I'm a few days behind on this but I just found out Robert Jordan died. My reactions to this are:
Crap, I needed closure on that series.
And, with a touch more humanity:
Crap, an author I liked just died. This is a sad thing.
It's not a fitting eulogy to a guy who was by all accounts very nice but:
Crap, this sucks.
It's incredibly unfair that we don't get to be immortal.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Office View
This is the view from my office. Today I set up the webcam monitor on one of my desktops. It's kind of funny that as much as I have a view now, I hardly ever look outside. Hopefully the webcam monitor will encourage me to change that.
Friday, August 31, 2007
The Dark Lord of the Bedroom
Tuesday night I was wired to a circuit board in a manner somewhat reminiscent of the matrix. I was then asked to fall asleep, which did not go as planned. 3 blissful, wired-to-15-instruments hours later I guess I finally did, although I don't think I slept very well, for reasons that were difficult to fathom.
2 days later they informed me that the results of the test indicate that I have mild to moderate sleep apnea, which is not a problem in the short run, but possibly leads to bigger health problems long term. They casually mentioned that if I WANTED they'd be happy to remove my uvula, tonsils and assorted unnecessary fleshy bits at the back of my throat. I decided to forego that option in favor of positive pressure air masks favored by sith lords and bounty hunters alike. But other than questionable bedtime machinery, I am fine.
Apart, that is, from a nagging suspicion that I was programmed with a secret objective by whatever agency uses the sleep clinic as a front. I keep trying to find my trigger phrase.
"Apocalypse cow!"
"The Blind Pig Flies North."
etc.
I should probably stop.
2 days later they informed me that the results of the test indicate that I have mild to moderate sleep apnea, which is not a problem in the short run, but possibly leads to bigger health problems long term. They casually mentioned that if I WANTED they'd be happy to remove my uvula, tonsils and assorted unnecessary fleshy bits at the back of my throat. I decided to forego that option in favor of positive pressure air masks favored by sith lords and bounty hunters alike. But other than questionable bedtime machinery, I am fine.
Apart, that is, from a nagging suspicion that I was programmed with a secret objective by whatever agency uses the sleep clinic as a front. I keep trying to find my trigger phrase.
"Apocalypse cow!"
"The Blind Pig Flies North."
etc.
I should probably stop.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
How I learned I was undead
Soooo, after many complaints of my loud, heard-from-several-rooms-away snoring on vacation this summer, and talking about these and other symptoms with my physician, I went to a sleep clinic. The nice doctor palpitated the fleshy outsides of my throat and took a peak at the topside of my airway and declared "You have a small throat!" After a brief discussion on how that affects my worth as a man (a conversation which was entirely imaginary), she told me I probably have sleep apnea (which was not imaginary). I don't think this is a big deal, it's generally not a serious condition, but now I have to go do a sleep test this coming Tuesday night. As far as I can tell this involves being wired up to 50 machines and then asked to sleep. so, you know, fun.
My only concern is that it's being run by a cult and I'll wake up the next morning brain-washed. "Why yes, I do worship a highly evolved form of the color purple, why do you ask?"
In any case, I do not look forward to sleeping with a breathing mask. Although I suppose it does have darth vader appeal.
"LUKE! I am your pillow!"
My only concern is that it's being run by a cult and I'll wake up the next morning brain-washed. "Why yes, I do worship a highly evolved form of the color purple, why do you ask?"
In any case, I do not look forward to sleeping with a breathing mask. Although I suppose it does have darth vader appeal.
"LUKE! I am your pillow!"
Monday, August 06, 2007
Herbie the love civic
So my Honda died and had to be towed to the shop the other day. Two otherwise rational people have now told me it was because I was openly discussing selling the car in front of it. Am I crazy for arguing that the car is, in fact, inanimate? I mean, I understand the urge to anthropomorphize the hell out of everything I use in daily life, but I draw the line at giving people crap for discussing certain things in front of in-organic objects for fear the object might take offense. I'm sorry, that's just how I roll.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Hirsute Kiln-boy
So last night, I was busting through harry potter and the deadly marshmallows, in the final legs, ready to finish the book and devour it's secrets when I hit page 610. Now, there was nothing in particular wrong with page 610. In fact, it was a rather exciting moment in the book. It's just that it was followed by page 643 all the way up to where 643 should have been, at which point page 643 started all over again. So . . . huh . . . how irritating.
No worries though, I have a second copy for the girlfriend! I'll just go read that one. Oh, huh. It seems it suffers from the exact same flaw. Oh good. So anyway, I will be journeying to the book store tonight to buy two more copies. Wish me luck.
What are the odds I can sell two flawed books from the first printing to a collector someday?
No worries though, I have a second copy for the girlfriend! I'll just go read that one. Oh, huh. It seems it suffers from the exact same flaw. Oh good. So anyway, I will be journeying to the book store tonight to buy two more copies. Wish me luck.
What are the odds I can sell two flawed books from the first printing to a collector someday?
Bumper Sticker of the Day
"Ask me if I give a shit!" which was pasted just below a christian fish symbol on a modest sedan.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Aqua-tappa tappa tappa
Pepsi admits today that the water in aquafina is just tap water. So is Dasani which is bottled by Coke. I have a mostly-full box of Aquafina sitting at home. I am paying for the privilege of having someone bottle the water from my sink for me.
God I feel stupid.
God I feel stupid.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Phone Fuckery
I hate my phone. This is the second LG Chocolate that has died on me. I went to check it in the middle of winco only to find that my cell phone is now displaying the white screen of death again. And this is a completely different phone than last time. On the bright side, the phone isn't actually dead. I can still receive and make calls. It's just that the screen is completely useless now. And this is after treating this phone pretty well. Hadn't dropped it, spilled water on it, or sat on large, powerful magnets. I have no idea whether my warranty is still good, but, if so, I am sure that Verizon, in their infinite benevolence, will bless me with yet another shitty plastic phone.
In closing:
LG Chocolate phone, I fucking hate you.
In closing:
LG Chocolate phone, I fucking hate you.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Anonymous Rex
My first name is unique enough that typing it and only it into google yields a hit with my full name on the first page of results. This is pretty much the entire reason I try to have an anonymous web identity. Really, in the interests of being able to speak one's mind to the fullest extent, is there any good reason to use your real identity on a web site?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Back in Tack
Pardon my lack of posting. I was busy for a few weeks and then I spent a whole week minus the internet in Montana. Which wasn't as painful as I thought (being bereft of internet I mean), but I still had the occasional impulse to look something up and found myself needing some google. If I really needed to know something I could drive 20 minutes into Great Falls and use the library. What's funny about that is that I wouldn't be going to the library to look up the information in a book, I would be going to use the free wireless internet to google as I like to do. Which makes me laugh for some reason.
Also, if you have long hair (in a pony tail) and are a man in Montana your automatic nick-name is "Willie Nelson" or "California". So, yeah.
Also, if you have long hair (in a pony tail) and are a man in Montana your automatic nick-name is "Willie Nelson" or "California". So, yeah.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tales to WoW you, part 4
I see by the comment two posts down that I still have people who read this blog. This is a situation that must be rectified. Therefore, I am excited to unveil part 4 in our ongoing series, "Tales to WoW you". Yes, World of Warcraft fan fiction at it's absolute worst. You will read it and wish you hadn't. Now that I've intrigued you,
Narrator: Our heroes lie, in pieces, amidst pools of blood and murloc drool. They appear to be dead. Again.
Karibou: Well, you've killed me again Gul.
Gulveris: What do you mean "again"? We died from the plague the first time remember?
Karibou: . . . Gul, do you remember what happened the day we died?
Gulveris: Well, let me think. In the morning I believe I bought some cheap bread from the new baker in town. For lunch I made us sandwiches with said bread and I believe by late afternoon we, along with the rest of the town, had been infected with the undead plague and subsequently died. What part of that was my fault? The only thing I'm guilty of is making your last meal a tasty one.
Karibou: No.
Gulveris: What do you mean "no"? That's EXACTLY what happened.
Karibou: No, Gul, it is ALMOST what happened. What actually happened was a little more interesting. Do you remember what the new baker looked like that day?
Gulveris: Um . . . I think so. Pale guy, black cloak, hood, smelled bad.
Karibou: Uh huh, uh huh. I thought so. Tell me, did the bread he sold you look, in any way, fresh?
Gulveris: Well, it had a bit of mold, but you couldn't beat the price!
Karibou: No. No Gul, that was not "just mold". You bought infected bread from the undead scourge, and we ate it for lunch. THAT is how you killed me the first time.
Gulveris: Well, hey, I'm sorry for not being perfect Mr. "I know so much about everything", excuse me for not noticing the thing that no one else in town noticed. If you'll recall, they all died of the plague too.
Karibou: Again Gul, close but not quite. Do you recall seeing any notices that day on your way to buy bread?
Gulveris: Um, the only one I noticed said "For a good time, find Gronkelina."
Karibou: Well, my good friend Gulveris, if you had happened to read the notice just next to that one you would have seen one that said "Beware shady bread vendors selling scourge infected bread." As it happens, the rest of the town DID see that notice and thus were not infected by the scourge.
Gulveris: Well, how did they die then smartass?
Karibou: Do you remember what happened after we died?
Gulveris: If I recall correctly we un-died later that night.
Karibou: Do you remember what we did then?
Gulveris: Well, I dimly recall being hungry.
Karibou: Gul, you dimly recall everything. But let me refresh your memory. We were not just hungry, we were RAVENOUS. And do you remember what we were ravenous for?
Gulveris: Cake?
Karibou: No! No Gul! We were hungry for Brains! Brains! Which is why, undead zombie Gulveris, we went from house to house that night and killed everyone else in town, eating their brains.
Gulveris: So what you're saying is, I killed you by feeding you infected grain and then both of us became undead and killed the rest of the town?
Karibou: Yes, Gul. That is what I'm saying. Hence, this is the second time you killed me.
Gulveris: Fine, I get it. But you didn't have to be such a dick about it.
Karibou: My dear friend Gulveris. Please forgive me for causing you any emotional incovenience as I lie here, dead, in a pool of blood and murloc drool.
Gulveris: Aw, Karibou, you know I can't stay mad at you. Besides, I understand how dying for the second time must be stressing you out. Which brings up an interesting point. How are you stressed about anything at all? I thought we were dead?
Karibou: You know, Gul, that IS interesting.
Narrator: NO! It isn't! But join us next time as our dead undead heroes explore this and other equally tepid topics in "Murder-squared: For the love of the Light, why can't I die?" We guarantee you'll be wondering the same thing! See you next time, in TALES to WOW YOU!
Narrator: Our heroes lie, in pieces, amidst pools of blood and murloc drool. They appear to be dead. Again.
Karibou: Well, you've killed me again Gul.
Gulveris: What do you mean "again"? We died from the plague the first time remember?
Karibou: . . . Gul, do you remember what happened the day we died?
Gulveris: Well, let me think. In the morning I believe I bought some cheap bread from the new baker in town. For lunch I made us sandwiches with said bread and I believe by late afternoon we, along with the rest of the town, had been infected with the undead plague and subsequently died. What part of that was my fault? The only thing I'm guilty of is making your last meal a tasty one.
Karibou: No.
Gulveris: What do you mean "no"? That's EXACTLY what happened.
Karibou: No, Gul, it is ALMOST what happened. What actually happened was a little more interesting. Do you remember what the new baker looked like that day?
Gulveris: Um . . . I think so. Pale guy, black cloak, hood, smelled bad.
Karibou: Uh huh, uh huh. I thought so. Tell me, did the bread he sold you look, in any way, fresh?
Gulveris: Well, it had a bit of mold, but you couldn't beat the price!
Karibou: No. No Gul, that was not "just mold". You bought infected bread from the undead scourge, and we ate it for lunch. THAT is how you killed me the first time.
Gulveris: Well, hey, I'm sorry for not being perfect Mr. "I know so much about everything", excuse me for not noticing the thing that no one else in town noticed. If you'll recall, they all died of the plague too.
Karibou: Again Gul, close but not quite. Do you recall seeing any notices that day on your way to buy bread?
Gulveris: Um, the only one I noticed said "For a good time, find Gronkelina."
Karibou: Well, my good friend Gulveris, if you had happened to read the notice just next to that one you would have seen one that said "Beware shady bread vendors selling scourge infected bread." As it happens, the rest of the town DID see that notice and thus were not infected by the scourge.
Gulveris: Well, how did they die then smartass?
Karibou: Do you remember what happened after we died?
Gulveris: If I recall correctly we un-died later that night.
Karibou: Do you remember what we did then?
Gulveris: Well, I dimly recall being hungry.
Karibou: Gul, you dimly recall everything. But let me refresh your memory. We were not just hungry, we were RAVENOUS. And do you remember what we were ravenous for?
Gulveris: Cake?
Karibou: No! No Gul! We were hungry for Brains! Brains! Which is why, undead zombie Gulveris, we went from house to house that night and killed everyone else in town, eating their brains.
Gulveris: So what you're saying is, I killed you by feeding you infected grain and then both of us became undead and killed the rest of the town?
Karibou: Yes, Gul. That is what I'm saying. Hence, this is the second time you killed me.
Gulveris: Fine, I get it. But you didn't have to be such a dick about it.
Karibou: My dear friend Gulveris. Please forgive me for causing you any emotional incovenience as I lie here, dead, in a pool of blood and murloc drool.
Gulveris: Aw, Karibou, you know I can't stay mad at you. Besides, I understand how dying for the second time must be stressing you out. Which brings up an interesting point. How are you stressed about anything at all? I thought we were dead?
Karibou: You know, Gul, that IS interesting.
Narrator: NO! It isn't! But join us next time as our dead undead heroes explore this and other equally tepid topics in "Murder-squared: For the love of the Light, why can't I die?" We guarantee you'll be wondering the same thing! See you next time, in TALES to WOW YOU!
Monday, May 14, 2007
Tales to WoW you, part 3
. . .in which my World of Warcraft fan fiction almost kills you.
In order to get myself back into blogging, I have decided to finish some of the WoW stories that I had in my head when Eric and I were playing. In addition to getting my blogging groove back, I expect to drive the remaining portion of my readers screaming into the twisting nether with my god-awful prose, thus making them able to find this blog afresh later on, as we both start anew.
With that, read on! If you can stomach it . . . and be warned, I don't feel like spell-checking today (you know, I think I have a future in public relations). Also, I'm not sure, but in my mind undead swear as much as possible, so apologies for that.
When we last left Gulveris and Karibou, Gulveris had wandered off to Undercity to find his destiny leaving Karibou to fight the denizens of Tirisfal Glades alone.
(SCENE: Karibou fights a battle against two hideous murlocs in northern portion of Tirisfal Glades.)
The Sounds of Battle: CLANG! SMASH! Mrggrggglrlgle (that was a murloc) THUNK! SLICE! POW! (Adam West was riding by) CLANG! . . . . BOOOOOOOOOM!
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: Hey, Karibou! Looks like I arrived in the nick of time!
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: (Looking Confused, which is difficult when your jaw has almost fallen off) What?
Karibou: . . . What . . . (spits out murloc foot) . . . the fuck . . . (removes murloc eye from his own eye socket) . . . was that!
Gulveris: Oh, you mean the method of your deliverance from those rotten little savages? Well, I'm glad you asked, it was (rummages in back-pack and soon hefts a red stick) Dynamite! Cool, huh?
Karibou: Gul, right now I'm tasting murloc toe-jam, I am nearly deaf from the explosion (and possibly the murloc spleen lodged in my ear) and I have, if I am not mistaken, a fucking fish femur sticking through what's left of my lower intestine.
Gulveris: You know, a little gratitude would be nice. (Begins to perform first aid while casually picking murloc remains off of his friend).
Karibou: (with a hint of sarcasm) Yes, thank you Gulveris, if it hadn't been for you I might have easily killed two murlocs without draping myself with their entrails.
Gulveris: (Finishes bandaging Karibou) There, that should keep you together until the Apothecary can look at you.
Karibou: . . . Gul, you packed murloc intestine in with my personal intestines.
Gulveris: Well, you shouldn't have left yours hanging out like that then!
Karibou: (Irritated) I . . . Didn't!
Gulveris: Oh, you'll get over it. What, are you worried it will get infected? Anyway, enough of your bitching and moaning, guess what I did in Undercity?
Karibou: Well, you either explored your necro-sexuality in ways I don't want to hear about or you learned to make dynamite.
Gulveris: (Laughing) Silly, Karibou, why can't it be both! In any case, you are looking at the newest member of the Undercity Engineering Guild! Look how much dynamite I made! (hefts back-pack crammed with explosives towards Karibou)
Karibou: (Steps quickly back) Congratulations, you have managed to complete number 32 on my list of "Ways Gulveris is Likely to Get me Killed" just under "Pushed into Lava" and just over "Trampled by Kodo".
Gulveris: Oh stop it. These things are perfectly safe (starts tossing a stick of dynamite lightly into the air). A sizable majority of my graduating class managed to do so with their limbs intact.
Karibou: Fine! Fine. I'll take your word for it. You know, your natural inclination to get me killed aside, your massive bag of explosives has great potential. Let's blow something up.
Gulveris: (Grinning) I thought you'd never ask! Look at that rabbit!
BOOOOM!
Karibou: (Clapping excitedly) Ooh, that was fun. Now me!
Gulveris: (tossing stick to Karibou) Sure, here you go!
Karibou: (Briefly glaring at Gulveris for tossing high explosive at him. Then trying to light the dynamite) Hey, how do I light this thing? Why can't I ignite the fuse?
Gulveris: (Looking embarrassed) Ah, I forgot. Let me see it? (retrieves dynamite) I'm afraid you won't be able to use this dynamite because you're not an engineer.
Karibou: What do you mean? It's just light and throw right?
Gulveris: (looking smug) Oh, I'm afraid it's much more complicated than that.
Karibou: (looking increasingly irritated) What the fuck is so complicated about "light and throw"!
Gulveris: (thinking hard, then condescendingly) Well, there are many aspects to it that a non-engineer just isn't likely to grasp.
Karibou: Like what?! (Making exasperated motions with hands) You just light and throw! Light and throw!
Gulveris: Well, for one thing an engineer would know to keep his calm around a large satchel full of dynamite. Oh, you know what! I totally forgot, I learned a new recipe just before I left! (Rummages in satchel and comes up with a pink stick of dynamite painted with flowers and puppies and a plastic cap on top) Here, try this one!
Karibou: (Looking at the stick skeptically) What the hell is that?
Gulveris: You my friend are looking at "EZ-throw" dynamite. Fun for engineers and non-engineers alike!
Karibou: So what, I can only use the kiddie dynamite? How freaking insulting is that? And why did you paint it pink! What, am I 12?
Gulveris: Well, if you were 12 you would be substantially more grateful about receiving high explosives I think.
Karibou: I'm not 12!
Gulveris: I thought you'd like it!
Karibou: Gul, pink dynamite painted with flowers and puppies will NOT strike fear into the hearts of my enemies!
Gulveris: You know I think you're just cranky because you stink like murloc intestine.
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: (realizing the situation is going downhill) Wait, look how easy it is! (Pops plastic cap off of EZ-throw dynamite and tosses backwards down to the beach).
In the distance: BOOOOOM! Mrglglgrlelglelrle! (Both turn to look at the pack of furious murlocs racing up the hill towards them)
Karibou: Number 23.
Gulveris: "Killed by a pack of furious murlocs?"
Karibou: Yup.
Gulveris: You know me too well.
Karibou: (Pulls out his sword) To know you is to hate you.
Gulveris: Aw quit yer bitchin', I have a plan.
Karibou: Me too.
Gulveris: Mine's better. You charge and hold them off while I destroy them with dynamite.
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: What?
Mrlglggggrlgrlgl!
(to be continued . . .)
In order to get myself back into blogging, I have decided to finish some of the WoW stories that I had in my head when Eric and I were playing. In addition to getting my blogging groove back, I expect to drive the remaining portion of my readers screaming into the twisting nether with my god-awful prose, thus making them able to find this blog afresh later on, as we both start anew.
With that, read on! If you can stomach it . . . and be warned, I don't feel like spell-checking today (you know, I think I have a future in public relations). Also, I'm not sure, but in my mind undead swear as much as possible, so apologies for that.
When we last left Gulveris and Karibou, Gulveris had wandered off to Undercity to find his destiny leaving Karibou to fight the denizens of Tirisfal Glades alone.
(SCENE: Karibou fights a battle against two hideous murlocs in northern portion of Tirisfal Glades.)
The Sounds of Battle: CLANG! SMASH! Mrggrggglrlgle (that was a murloc) THUNK! SLICE! POW! (Adam West was riding by) CLANG! . . . . BOOOOOOOOOM!
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: Hey, Karibou! Looks like I arrived in the nick of time!
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: (Looking Confused, which is difficult when your jaw has almost fallen off) What?
Karibou: . . . What . . . (spits out murloc foot) . . . the fuck . . . (removes murloc eye from his own eye socket) . . . was that!
Gulveris: Oh, you mean the method of your deliverance from those rotten little savages? Well, I'm glad you asked, it was (rummages in back-pack and soon hefts a red stick) Dynamite! Cool, huh?
Karibou: Gul, right now I'm tasting murloc toe-jam, I am nearly deaf from the explosion (and possibly the murloc spleen lodged in my ear) and I have, if I am not mistaken, a fucking fish femur sticking through what's left of my lower intestine.
Gulveris: You know, a little gratitude would be nice. (Begins to perform first aid while casually picking murloc remains off of his friend).
Karibou: (with a hint of sarcasm) Yes, thank you Gulveris, if it hadn't been for you I might have easily killed two murlocs without draping myself with their entrails.
Gulveris: (Finishes bandaging Karibou) There, that should keep you together until the Apothecary can look at you.
Karibou: . . . Gul, you packed murloc intestine in with my personal intestines.
Gulveris: Well, you shouldn't have left yours hanging out like that then!
Karibou: (Irritated) I . . . Didn't!
Gulveris: Oh, you'll get over it. What, are you worried it will get infected? Anyway, enough of your bitching and moaning, guess what I did in Undercity?
Karibou: Well, you either explored your necro-sexuality in ways I don't want to hear about or you learned to make dynamite.
Gulveris: (Laughing) Silly, Karibou, why can't it be both! In any case, you are looking at the newest member of the Undercity Engineering Guild! Look how much dynamite I made! (hefts back-pack crammed with explosives towards Karibou)
Karibou: (Steps quickly back) Congratulations, you have managed to complete number 32 on my list of "Ways Gulveris is Likely to Get me Killed" just under "Pushed into Lava" and just over "Trampled by Kodo".
Gulveris: Oh stop it. These things are perfectly safe (starts tossing a stick of dynamite lightly into the air). A sizable majority of my graduating class managed to do so with their limbs intact.
Karibou: Fine! Fine. I'll take your word for it. You know, your natural inclination to get me killed aside, your massive bag of explosives has great potential. Let's blow something up.
Gulveris: (Grinning) I thought you'd never ask! Look at that rabbit!
BOOOOM!
Karibou: (Clapping excitedly) Ooh, that was fun. Now me!
Gulveris: (tossing stick to Karibou) Sure, here you go!
Karibou: (Briefly glaring at Gulveris for tossing high explosive at him. Then trying to light the dynamite) Hey, how do I light this thing? Why can't I ignite the fuse?
Gulveris: (Looking embarrassed) Ah, I forgot. Let me see it? (retrieves dynamite) I'm afraid you won't be able to use this dynamite because you're not an engineer.
Karibou: What do you mean? It's just light and throw right?
Gulveris: (looking smug) Oh, I'm afraid it's much more complicated than that.
Karibou: (looking increasingly irritated) What the fuck is so complicated about "light and throw"!
Gulveris: (thinking hard, then condescendingly) Well, there are many aspects to it that a non-engineer just isn't likely to grasp.
Karibou: Like what?! (Making exasperated motions with hands) You just light and throw! Light and throw!
Gulveris: Well, for one thing an engineer would know to keep his calm around a large satchel full of dynamite. Oh, you know what! I totally forgot, I learned a new recipe just before I left! (Rummages in satchel and comes up with a pink stick of dynamite painted with flowers and puppies and a plastic cap on top) Here, try this one!
Karibou: (Looking at the stick skeptically) What the hell is that?
Gulveris: You my friend are looking at "EZ-throw" dynamite. Fun for engineers and non-engineers alike!
Karibou: So what, I can only use the kiddie dynamite? How freaking insulting is that? And why did you paint it pink! What, am I 12?
Gulveris: Well, if you were 12 you would be substantially more grateful about receiving high explosives I think.
Karibou: I'm not 12!
Gulveris: I thought you'd like it!
Karibou: Gul, pink dynamite painted with flowers and puppies will NOT strike fear into the hearts of my enemies!
Gulveris: You know I think you're just cranky because you stink like murloc intestine.
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: (realizing the situation is going downhill) Wait, look how easy it is! (Pops plastic cap off of EZ-throw dynamite and tosses backwards down to the beach).
In the distance: BOOOOOM! Mrglglgrlelglelrle! (Both turn to look at the pack of furious murlocs racing up the hill towards them)
Karibou: Number 23.
Gulveris: "Killed by a pack of furious murlocs?"
Karibou: Yup.
Gulveris: You know me too well.
Karibou: (Pulls out his sword) To know you is to hate you.
Gulveris: Aw quit yer bitchin', I have a plan.
Karibou: Me too.
Gulveris: Mine's better. You charge and hold them off while I destroy them with dynamite.
Karibou: . . .
Gulveris: What?
Mrlglggggrlgrlgl!
(to be continued . . .)
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Follow-up on Catch Scratch.
I later recovered from my cat bite.
Thanks to "Busty Karen takes it 3 ways" for caring enough to leave a comment.
Thanks to "Busty Karen takes it 3 ways" for caring enough to leave a comment.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
cat scratch fever
My wonderful, friendly cat Minino gave me four bloody puncture wounds and a trip to the ER this week.
I am used to pushing his nosy little head out of the way all the time, usually to keep his head from being crushed by the refrigerator/sliding/front door. He usually is okay with that. However, Tuesday night he was trying to kill a stray cat through the sliding glass door and I made a crucial error. I opened the sliding glass door to hiss through the screen to scare the other cat away. Having done that, I was trying to close the sliding glass door again. So, in my bare feet, I do my usual shove-cat-aside -with-foot maneuver and get bit hard for my trouble. Four nice neat puncture wounds just behind the pinky toe on my left foot. If I were a higher class of sentient I would have realized that he was in fight-mode with the outdoor cat and not put my bare foot anywhere near him.
In any case, my patient girlfriend helped me dress the wound and 24-hours later it had swollen and was looking red. So into the ER we go to get anti-biotics. So now I'm limping dramatically everywhere I go and trying not to think about teeth and/or bacteria. Also, I'm supposed to elevate my leg at every opportunity. How to do this at work and retain dignity, I don't know. And all this on top of a $500 car repair, $1000 dollar estimate for cleaning the teeth for both cats (sum, not individual), and x-rays on my wrist, for which I have not been charged yet.
It's not the crappiest week anyone has ever had, but you know.
I am used to pushing his nosy little head out of the way all the time, usually to keep his head from being crushed by the refrigerator/sliding/front door. He usually is okay with that. However, Tuesday night he was trying to kill a stray cat through the sliding glass door and I made a crucial error. I opened the sliding glass door to hiss through the screen to scare the other cat away. Having done that, I was trying to close the sliding glass door again. So, in my bare feet, I do my usual shove-cat-aside -with-foot maneuver and get bit hard for my trouble. Four nice neat puncture wounds just behind the pinky toe on my left foot. If I were a higher class of sentient I would have realized that he was in fight-mode with the outdoor cat and not put my bare foot anywhere near him.
In any case, my patient girlfriend helped me dress the wound and 24-hours later it had swollen and was looking red. So into the ER we go to get anti-biotics. So now I'm limping dramatically everywhere I go and trying not to think about teeth and/or bacteria. Also, I'm supposed to elevate my leg at every opportunity. How to do this at work and retain dignity, I don't know. And all this on top of a $500 car repair, $1000 dollar estimate for cleaning the teeth for both cats (sum, not individual), and x-rays on my wrist, for which I have not been charged yet.
It's not the crappiest week anyone has ever had, but you know.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Okay, last post on this topic
So the other day I was in the guest bathroom, "doing some contemplative work" when the cat noses his way in (the guest bathroom door doesn't latch very well). So he slides into the bathroom, bothers me for about 30 seconds and then wrinkles his nose and races back out of the bathroom. Then, I swear, I see his little paw reaching in from the outside, frantically trying to close the door as if to say "That smell! I'm gonna throw up! Close the door! Close the door!"
And in answer to your as-yet unspoken question: because you deserved to know.
And in answer to your as-yet unspoken question: because you deserved to know.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
GSA Forevah
Kvc's post reminded me of something Mr. Unwilted put up over on youtube (the Brandon part, not the pooping part. :-). It's the 1992 Gem State Academy Video Yearbook, complete in six parts. Hooray! Here's part one:
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Some Pooping some Nudity
I was sent to the below movie by a Mr. Todd Jarnes. I thought several of you would get a kick out of it.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Things you don't want to think about
I make my 53rd triumphant return to the blog with poop stories. Now, I don't plan on getting too graphic, and I typically stay away from this topic for obvious reasons ("hey! Where are you going? Don't you want to hear more about my poop?"), but I have observations about male bathroom behavior that I wish to share. You may stop reading now if you're not interested.
I don't like using public bathrooms. In my dream world, a public bathroom stall would be completely enclosed, floor-to-ceiling, well-ventilated and sound-proof. Alas, public bathrooms do not meet this standard. Which is all to say that I hate using public bathrooms. But I have noticed a few things about the behavior of the people who use them (including myself).
First, there are 4 basic types of strides that men take when they head towards the bathroom door.
1) Confident and Mature. They're going to go in, do their business and get out and not think about it anymore. Obviously the best way to approach life (i.e. as an adult).
2) Overly Casual. They stroll along whistling, happen to notice the bathroom door and open it on a whim. They wouldn't normally go into such a place you understand, and it certainly wasn't imperative that they head there, but they'll go in and check it out. This is generally my category. They're trying to be an adult but clearly a little too conscious of the whole event.
3) Slinking. On some level, this person is embarrassed about going to the bathroom and slinks as close to the wall as they can on their way to the bathroom door. Because, you know, no one can see them that way.
4) Power walking. Most people do this walk from time to time. It's an emergency and you can't walk normally because it's all you can do to contain it until you get to the toilet and hope to god you don't run into anyone in the hallway.
As for how people act in the bathroom, let me just say that the funniest thing I hear while I'm in there is people talking to themselves while they do their business. Whether it's the incoherent mumbling I hear from the guy at the urinal or the loud "Oh GOD DAMNIT!" as someone goes through a rough patch in the stall next to me, it's all I can do not to giggle nervously.
As for the walk away from the bathroom, the first 3 strides all still apply. But to that, we must add:
5) the Big Boy. This is when a guy comes out of the bathroom with a certain jauntiness and/or swagger. You're not sure what he did in there, but by God is he proud of it. I also have to stop myself from laughing when I see this one. A variation of this is just a look of simple relief. It was a trying time, but now it is over and there are rainbows and butterflies everywhere.
I don't know why, but I've had this particular post bouncing around my head for months now. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to write it, but you may rest easy knowing it has been catharsis for me.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to walk down the hallway in an overly casual manner.
I don't like using public bathrooms. In my dream world, a public bathroom stall would be completely enclosed, floor-to-ceiling, well-ventilated and sound-proof. Alas, public bathrooms do not meet this standard. Which is all to say that I hate using public bathrooms. But I have noticed a few things about the behavior of the people who use them (including myself).
First, there are 4 basic types of strides that men take when they head towards the bathroom door.
1) Confident and Mature. They're going to go in, do their business and get out and not think about it anymore. Obviously the best way to approach life (i.e. as an adult).
2) Overly Casual. They stroll along whistling, happen to notice the bathroom door and open it on a whim. They wouldn't normally go into such a place you understand, and it certainly wasn't imperative that they head there, but they'll go in and check it out. This is generally my category. They're trying to be an adult but clearly a little too conscious of the whole event.
3) Slinking. On some level, this person is embarrassed about going to the bathroom and slinks as close to the wall as they can on their way to the bathroom door. Because, you know, no one can see them that way.
4) Power walking. Most people do this walk from time to time. It's an emergency and you can't walk normally because it's all you can do to contain it until you get to the toilet and hope to god you don't run into anyone in the hallway.
As for how people act in the bathroom, let me just say that the funniest thing I hear while I'm in there is people talking to themselves while they do their business. Whether it's the incoherent mumbling I hear from the guy at the urinal or the loud "Oh GOD DAMNIT!" as someone goes through a rough patch in the stall next to me, it's all I can do not to giggle nervously.
As for the walk away from the bathroom, the first 3 strides all still apply. But to that, we must add:
5) the Big Boy. This is when a guy comes out of the bathroom with a certain jauntiness and/or swagger. You're not sure what he did in there, but by God is he proud of it. I also have to stop myself from laughing when I see this one. A variation of this is just a look of simple relief. It was a trying time, but now it is over and there are rainbows and butterflies everywhere.
I don't know why, but I've had this particular post bouncing around my head for months now. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to write it, but you may rest easy knowing it has been catharsis for me.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to walk down the hallway in an overly casual manner.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Half-Remembered Quote of the Day
"Why should I have to change all of the clocks in my house just because farmers can't wake up at 4am unless you tell them it's 5?" -- Stephen Colbert (more of a half-remembered paraphrase, but you get the idea)
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