Monday, July 31, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
The cynical team member then laughed and said, "Yeah, I'd sure like to see how a book is going to help dissipate your problems if your arm is caught in a wood chipper."
Several other Cynical Team Members laughed, and then one of them spoke up. "Wait," he said. "If you had read the instruction manual, chances are your arm would not have been caught in the wood chipper to begin with." Everybody grumbled agreement.
They may be cynical and they may have a bleak outlook on life, their jobs, and any purpose or meeing in life, but at least they have a sense of humor!
7.2 magnitude earthquake hits Indonesia, Java struck by 6-foot tsunami
A powerful earthquake sent a 6-foot-high tsunami crashing into a beach resort on Indonesia's Java island Monday, killing at least five people and causing extensive damage to hotels, restaurants and homes, the president and witnesses said.
Israel Ground Troups Enter Lebanon
Israeli ground troops entered southern Lebanon to attack Hezbollah bases on the border, but they rapidly returned to Israel after conducting their military operations, officials said Monday.
Next target: Tel Aviv
Hezbollah rockets yesterday killed eight Israelis in the strategic northern city of Haifa - amid new fears that the next round of missiles could be headed for Tel Aviv. Officials believe Hezbollah is plotting to hit the country's second-biggest city, and worked through the night to install upgraded radar and radio systems that could detect an attack.
and, finally, this …
Many still flock to N.J. Winking Jesus
The raucous revival atmosphere is gone; the curiosity-seekers have long since moved on to the next big thing. But the "Miracle on Jackson St." - a plaster statue of Jesus that some say opened one of its eyes a year ago - is still drawing scores of religious faithful to Hoboken."Since God opened one of the eyes, you have faith," said Vincent Ortiz, who often prays before the statue - and its gleaming blue right eye - on his way to work.
Bring on the four horseman. Bring on the Brittney Spears/Aerosmith/Run DMC super group. It’s time for Armageddon!
Sunday, July 16, 2006
I then said, "They've fallen victim to one of the classic blunders: never get involved in a land war in Asia."
She followed it up immediately with, "Only slightly less known is never to go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line."
Reason #4,976,453 why I love her.
Friday, July 14, 2006
"For the record, folks: I never took a shit on stage, and the closest I ever came to eating shit anywhere was at a Holiday Inn buffet in Fayetteville, North Carolina, in 1973."
I don't know why, but I just couldn't stop laughing.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Spam Haiku #1: An ad for financial investments
"No," I said. "Let's wait."
She spoke of very simple things
How much would she have?
Spam Haiku #2: You can figure it out.
All things are greater with size
enlarge your penis.
Either there are some creative spammers out there, or the guys writing code for human language approximation are getting really good.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
Here is one paragraph from an entry on June 23:
“I gave up caffeine. Yes. Me, the guy who is single-handedly responsible for bringing Diet Mountain Dew into the mainstream through continuous consumption of the sweet nectar, has given up his nasty vice. It’s been almost four days since I quit and, now that the gremlins have stopped gnawing on my head, I’m beginning to see the world through new, clearer eyes. Continued side effects include, rampant dizziness, unending exhaustion, a powerful and unquenchable thirst, a constant ringing in the ears, and a slightly more mature outlook on how to approach the world. Perhaps I should go back.“
I guess the “slightly more mature outlook” comment could be viewed in that light, but I figured it would have been outweighed by all the physical maladies I listed previous to that statement, most notably the rampant dizziness and ringing of the ears, which have continued throughout the inexorable relapse you all knew was coming. That, and the admission in the very next sentence:
“Oh yeah. I might also be diabetic. Have a nice day!”
Which ended up not being true, but still made me feel a bit on edge that afternoon. In the very next entry on June 30, I began with the following, completely humble statement:
“I am the man!”
But, of course, I meant that in respect to the web design project I had recently completely; a project which failed, by the way. I know this post was not in reference to caffeine in any manner, however, since later in this post, I say the following:
“In case you couldn’t tell. I’m back on the caffeine. And, lo, it is a good thing. At least until the stomach cramps start, that is.”
As far as I can tell, I wasn’t being an asshole about the whole thing. I never claimed that quitting caffeine made me a better person or that I was somehow morally superior to all others for abstaining from it. I don’t do that shit, and I don’t even like to pretend to do that shit because people who act like that piss me off. So if you got the impression that I was being a smug, self-righteous asshole in any way, shape, or form, please accept my most heartfelt apologies. It was either a miscommunication on my part or a poorly phrased attempt at humor.
Friday, July 07, 2006
There's an hour of work left on a Friday afternoon in this foul year of our Lord, 2006, and I can think of nothing better to do than write something, especially since the construction people of the large state university in Ohio where I work have apparently decided to put the totality of their technical acumen to good use through banging large, metal wrenches against thick, percussive poles endlessly, for hours upon end. Seriously. It's like they're going for a fucking record or something. My eyes have stopped working and the devastation of Meniere's disease upon my inner ear has persuaded the desk in front of me to jump ten feet to the left at random intervals all day. Just when I think its safe to start work again, somebody puts my office on spin cycle and everything flies around me in a discombobulated whirl. This means that even if I wanted to do real work I can't because my office won't let me.
Driving home should be fun.
So what are you up to? Is work going well? Are your various and sundry public service endeavors turning out like you had hoped? I realize that sounds sarcastic, and I apologize. I don't mean to be. I actually have a deep respect for whatever the hell it is you do. You're an amazing person and a testament to all that is American or Canadian or whatever nationality you are. I don't mean to be this way. It's just that, in my current state of mind, I can't help but sound like an ass.
I crossed the street this afternoon in search of a chipotle burrito and ran into a telephone pole. I mistepped while trying to avoid a homeless person who simultaneously begged for spare change and wished God's blessing upon all those who declined to share the contents of their emaciated pockets. He moved this way and that like a professional dancer in rags, jumping and thrusting his appendages at queer angles like a gazelle with loose tendons. I don't think he saw me coming, because after he imparted the wisdom of Job upon two college students who failed to notice him above the din of their iPods, he leapt backward, thrusting his arms in the air, shouting, "God say's it's gonna be all good!" His trajectory left him in my path, which would normally have been an easy thing to avoid. Unfortunately my aforementioned vertigo took that moment to tilt the earth downard and to the right, and I ran face first into the pole. This was a lucky thing, though. Because at that very moment a city bus blasted through the intersection at nearly 50 miles per hour. I might be a match for a VW Bug, but a city bus would have eaten me for lunch, which would be ironic since it was I who had recently sought noontime sustenenace.
The circule of life, indeed!
Alright. Enough babble. Everybody return to their regularly schedule programs, and I shall return to my previous love, professional yodeling. Ah the fun memories I have from my days as head yodeler on the professional circuit: the oppressive crowds, the thrill of competition, the sexy leiderhosen, the suffocating stench of sauerkraut. It was an amazing time but, sadly, it is another story for another day.
Yodeleeeee HEEEE hooo!