Awesome Youtube search

Youtubing "Ghost Ride The Whip"

Also related is an article on sfgate detailing the two ghostriding the whip-related fatalities of 2006. One in Stockton and one in Modesto. Proof that there is nothing to do in the valley. Hyphy ain't easy that's for sure. Make sure you stay with the article to the end where Snoop talks about sideshows becoming the "ghetto NASCAR."

Oh, snap. My new external harddrive from Buy.com just arrived. It took no time at all and using Google checkout, I got 320 GB for a C-note.

Now, a couple of other things real quick. I don't think Erin Gray has a myspace page, but if she did, I would add her as a friend. James Bond marathons make the day go by a lot faster.

Nothing Hotter

Than this...

Rockin' Ray & The Frisbee Dogs

Frisbee dogs are awesome. Here's some pics of Rockin Ray and the Frisbee Dogs.

Good news this morning:
$16 Million for a season. That's like a million a game that he'll play. I'm going to go out and get a Fremont A's hat as soon as possible. Yahoo Bonds Story

We will fight your bombs with our bees and your biological weapons with our llamas. This explains my helper monkey dream last night. Yahoo! llama story. On a side note, if I ever raised llamas on a ranch, I would call my ranch Lorenzo's Llamas...and it would be awesome.

Dude, this sucks. Yahoo! condom story

Not news, but everyone should be reading Mark Morford. Here's a link to this week's article.

To work.

How To Be Awesome: Chapter 1

Go to work at 7:00 in the morning clutching a plastic Safeway bag. Dock your laptop and power it up and then go into the break room with your plastic Safeway bag. Place your bag on the counter and start making coffee for the office. Only make ten 6 oz. cups because if you make twelve you risk getting grounds in the coffee and that just ruins it for everybody like Herpes did in 1978.

While you stand in the break room with gloves still on watching the coffee drip-drip-drip, acknowledge your co-workers with light conversation regarding how fucking cold it is, the duration of the week left before Friday and whether you did or did not bring a lunch AKA "What's in the bag?"

When asked about the bag, reply "Oh, that's my lunch. I almost forgot about it." While the person is still watching, take two Diet Cokes out of it and place them in the door of the refrigerator and place the bag in the garbage. Exit the room immediately and log in to your laptop and start work for the day.

By following this routine repeatedly, co-workers will fear you and expect your manifesto within twelve months. If within said twelve months, you decide to distribute your manifesto via the company e-mail, send this:

My 2007 Manifesto By Hugh Voltage

1 lb. lean Ground Beef

Salt and Pepper to taste

Hot Sauce

1 large Red Onion chopped

1 can (16 0z.) Refried Beans

1 can (4 oz.) Green Chiles chopped

2 cups Cheddar Cheese shredded

1 cup Monterey Jack Cheese shredded

1 lb. Mission® Tortilla Triangles Chips

1 large Red or Green Bell Pepper chopped

1 cup Sour Cream

1 cup ripe Black Olives pitted

3/4 cup Taco Sauce

Recipe Instructions:

1. Cook ground beef until brown, drain fat and season to taste. Add 2 to 3 drops of hot sauce and onion. Spread beans in a large 9"x13" rectangular oven-proof dish and top with cooked meat. Sprinkle with green chiles, both cheeses and taco sauce. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes in a 400 degree F oven.
2. Remove from oven and garnish with black olives, sour cream and bell pepper. Serve with Mission® Tortilla Triangles around the edges of the dish.

Do not actually make this recipe. It's awful. If you do make it for the pure thrill of following instructions with a semi-predictable outcome, half the cheese portion.

The Burning Smell Lets You Know That The Condom Is Working

Being a single and safe individual, contraception and prophylaction are of interest. This, however, is not. It is the spray-on condom. Thank you Gizmodo via Digg. As a bonus, here is the page translated.

So, let's see "Soon there is no more reason to rather make it without." That's good because now I rather make it without, currently. Next, "The new condom comes from the spray can and adapts to each member optimally." So, it's like Weight-watchers where they customize a member's weight enhancement program because they are just a curvy BBW right now and don't really need to lose the weight because they are fine just the way they are, but why not just try and even look better. Is there an acronym for BBMs? Apparently not, unless it is a supergroup with 2/3 of Cream in it.

Here's more from the translated site: "The advantages of the spray condom are obvious: it is easily and fast applicable, adapts to each Penisgrösse and form individually and offers apart from stretcher comfort, optimal protection with the sexual intercourse." So, first penisgrosse is so true, they are just not good looking. A penis kind of looks like a turkey neck. Dude, stretcher comfort sounds awesome. Hammock comfort would probably be a step above that, but I'd take stretcher comfort.

And here is the best part: "Still condom testers are looked for, which already gained experience in handling condoms. Prospective customers can announce themselves on this web page anonymous."

Spray rubber on your penis in the name of science? I could think of worse things to do with a penis. One thing would be to rub it on a toilet seat. That's how you pick up STDs.

Back On This Blog

I'm going to start this blog again. The digs need some serious work, but I will, hopefully, get some time to dust off my dynamic html skills from 1997 and clean it up a little bit and start posting again about everything from being STD-free (so awesome) to happy, positive and freakish things that start happening around me, like my experience with the boneless buffalo wing drought of Seattle in October of 2006. It's crazy that Seattle is such a great city and only 27 people live there. I mean, shit, they have a Monorail and a Space Needle. What more could people want? Seriously, it's my number two city to live in if the Bay Area wasn't so super stellar. I would like a space needle, locally, though.

Also, on a space needle tip, my sister outclassed me by a hundred times by paying to go up on the space needle and then immediately taking a dump as soon as she got to the top. I fucking love her for that.

Dirty Words

Good Stuff

I thought I invented the word AssFuck until I checked out this link. Apparently, I was wrong and the peronalized NFL store had already thought of it for the back of a jersey and banned it. You also can't get "Ass Whore" or "Ass Puppies." Other classics on the list are "Axing The Weasel," "Jesus Christ," and "Lucky Camel Toe."

If this list is real, I don't know what to say. Actually, I have a whole bunch of new things to say.

See Me. Wouldn't Want To Be Me (Nice Dreams)

Copied this from my myspace blog and myspace is still for perves.

When I was 8, things were way simpler. An ice cream machine was a flipped over big wheel and bad dreams involved Boogie Mans, Ghosts, Aliens or Sasquatches. Now, bad dreams are far worse and consist of myself, Mexcellente and Pinch at a frat party where an old man gives me his cell phone number as I try to leave and tells me to put it in under Herman Hesse so no one knows it's really him. Then, I walk Pinch back to her room and go home. That's the part where I wake up at 4:00 AM and toss and turn for the rest of the morning, pissed that I am going to have to drag through the day supertired. Now, here is my weekend in bulletpoints and this is why you don't want to be me.

Friday, 5:00 PM
-Leave work.

-Sam meets me at bar of choice and mentions she hasn't been drunk in a long time. I say it sounds like a dare. We drink shots of Crown Royal until we are semi-blind. The bartender starts pouring Jack Daniels in my beer when I go to the bathroom.

-Dude calls and says that he is going to a metal show in Oakland and he'll pick us up from the bar and take us. We say sure.

-We end up in a car with a German dude who names the Scorpions song everytime Sam whistles one.

-We get to Oakland and everyone in the car pees on the street, practically. We go to the show where the band is so metal that they don't have a bass player. I call one of the guitar players out on it and Sam takes a picture to clown later. She also points out that I am the only one in a white shirt in the club.

-I call my little sister who comes and picks us up in Oakland and brings us back to Palo Alto. We go to other bar of choice and the next thing I know I wake up in my bed and there is a bag of Jack In The Box in my trash. I have no car and Jack In The Box is too far to walk to. So, figure that one out Encyclopedia Brown.

Saturday
-JD takes me to my car en route to a horseshoe tournament in Livermore. He points out that he can see my nipples through my wifebeater.

-I drive by my grandma's old house where I spent years four, five and six and also drive past Mr. Goddammit's house since I am in the area.

-Hang out at horsehoe tournament and explain myself to friend's girlfriends and wives. An explanation of my singleness. It feels like everyone feels sorry for me because I don't have a girlfriend or a wife. They shouldn't. Nobody likes to feel like someone feels sorry for them. Personally, it makes me feel like a hobo or something. I Drink lots of water throughout the afternoon and rehydrate

-Take off around 5:00 and go pick up back pack from first bar of choice and go home.

-Watch last two episodes of Battlestar Galactica and sleep at 11:00 PM

Sunday
-Get up at 9:00 and talk to mom right when I get out of the shower, while hair dries to the point that it cannot be fashioned. It's gonna be a hat day.

-Clean apartment and vaccuum. The bathroom counter is spotless. Get coffee and paper and plan on just chillin' all day. Maybe do the crossword and cryptoquip. The Sunday Sudoku is too complicated. I really am looking forward to reading an article on soy beans and how they can be harmful if too much is taken into the human body.

-Girl with a boyfriend TMs and wants to ride bikes and get gelato. That sounds good.

-Pappy calls and wants to get a cocktail. That sounds a'ight. I just want to go downtown and get an Oscar Wilde book so all three can be accomplished.

-I call girl with a boyfriend and tell her to make sure she wears undergarments as Pappy will be there.

-After an episode of Always Sunny In Philadelphia, we go to the New New Old Pro and it's closed.

-Plan B is Compadres. After 3 pitchers, the bartendress recognizes me as "You're the guy that was in here and drank an Adios Motherfucker that one night."

-Five minutes after the comment, an Adios Motherfucker shows up at the table. Still unsure if she was trying to hint at me to leave.

-Pappy and girl with a boyfriend call JD to tell him that I am passed out as they joke about how he will never call back. He doesn't. This escalates to saying that they are visiting me in the hospital while I get my stomach pumped. I think it's gone too far and text him that I am okay.

-We move into the bar at compadres after we settle up because it is time for dollar margaritas. What could go wrong?

-At this point some equestrians from Stanford sit down next to me and girl with a boyfriend is annoyed that I am talking to them, at least I think. She reads this so she can give me shit about it. Anyway, girl with a boyfriend clocks me in the jaw while I am smoking.

-Girl with a boyfriend has had it and things are getting sloppy so we scrounge up some cash and call her a cab.

-Dr. Finn, medicine madman, shows up at this point and gets something to eat while Pappy and I are at two dollar margaritas.

-The good doctor drives my car to other bar of choice where we last about long enough to get a quesadilla to bring home to girl with a boyfriend in case she is hungry.

-Pappy passes out on the couch while some shit goes down in the kitchen. I hear Pappy leave and go to sleep.

-I Wake up at four or five with bad dreams.

That's pretty much everything in a nutshell. Hope girl with a boyfriend doesn't get mad about the blog. I also never ended up getting the book or gelato and instead have a sore jaw. Man, I really shit the bed on that one. In case you are keeping score at home, Sunday is not the new Friday either. You can also mark me down with an error.

Coming Soon

Quitting the myspace blog and moving back over here very soon. I miss the anonymity. Plus, myspace is for suckas and pervs.

The War At Home

First, the TV show War At Home is a crappy, rehash of Married With Children that promotes negative parenting and shows no redeeming qualities related to a family dynamic.

Second, this is disgusting, but I think I may have caught something from a girl who used to be at the house a lot. She had a dog like Little Orphan Annie and her dog may have had fleas because I just found my third one in three days. It makes me absolutely paranoid and freaked out, too. So, I have to napalm my apartment on Saturday or I am going to end up just throwing everything out and starting from scratch. I find myself vaccuuming everyday like I'm on diet pills and constantly scouring for another flea.

I'm thirty one and had a good run, so it's not the first time I caught something from a girl. It's how I met my ex-wife, kinda. Actually, not kinda, and it was probably a pretty good indicator of what was to come, but love is dumb if not blind. Those days are behind me, though, so now that I've grown a tiny bit more responsible, I'm still dealing with catching stuff from girls, however, now it is fleas. Also, a prescription of antibiotics is way easier than powders and bombs to eradicate something. A funny related story is when I thought I had something really horrible and went to the health center at the college and had to put my penis in some woman's hand to be told that it was Dickne.

Starts with cooties and ends with fleas. It's the circle of the social life. Meeting people is easy, but it takes a 24 hour period to kill the fleas.

Worst case scenario is that I have fleas which is totally plausible because of the beard which was nearly shaved this morning because it is horrid or horridle, if you will.

Mutual Fun!!!

Chuck Palahniuk once said at an in-store that he knew he was an adult when he bought new furniture. Add a divorce and a few other changes, if you talk about me, the story's the same one. The real defining moment of adultness outside of dropping $60 into a PGA Tour video golf machine and watching Justice League Unlimited is monitoring and taking pride in my mutual fund.

My Real Estate fund was a go-getter last year, but I was anticipating a slow down, so I pulled a lot out and put it in Blue Chips hoping for market resurgance. The dark horse that I got cheap and has tripled is the Japan mid cap fund. That thing is kickass there was a small shakeup on the Nikkei, but it's getting better. Anyway, a 12% return on my investment last year. That was awesome and it has been slow this year, but my YTD has tripled in the last week from almost nothing.

So, why talk about mutual funds? I think I use it as a substitue for something. Some women will get a cat or a dog and have this weird personal relationship with it trying to fill some sort of gap they are experiencing. If that works, cool. I, on the other hand, am pretty happy with being alone for a while. I'm over the textbook path that I was given a long time ago. I'm over wife, kids, and picket fence. What do I want with my life? I was thinking about picking up an external hard drive, getting a couple of picture frames to hang a couple of prints and maybe buy some new kitchen stuff. In the long term? Maybe pay off my credit cards and buy a new car. These are my goals in life at this point. Oh, also drink less and be more productive.

Natural concerns would be being bald and alone at 50 years old. I'll just have to go with it. If I am unhappy with being alone at 50, if that indeed does become the case, I can go volunteer, write something, paint fire hydrants green until they catch me, it really doesn't matter at this point. I'm over babies, marriage and fences and I'm quite good with it.

De(comp)pression

Hung over today and don't even know how I got into my house last night as my house keys were in my car this morning. It's kind of weird. I'll have to have a chat with my neighbor. I kind of needed to let off some steam last night, so it's juat as well and justified that I got blown out on a Wednesday. Now I just need to find one of my credit cards at one of the three bars I went to last night. I leave cards around too much. I need to go to a cash only policy.

Just talked to the ex-wife who is moving to San Diego to be with her dude and it felt all right...finally. It also turns out that I screwed up the divorce kind of. I was supposed to request that she be served, but it's my first divorce so I'll do it right on the next one. Sometimes it trips me out that I am technically married still.

Speaking of that, I'm kind of single again and that's good. I got a bit freaked out when there were tampons in my medicine cabinet and realized that things were moving too quickly with my last relationship. Plus, I had gained five pounds buy getting on that making dinner for two thing. I've since filled the void with tons and tons of work and it feels pretty good. I'm getting awesome in the workplace again. It's looking like I could be in a spot to win again. In the meantime, I will be fostering change in the organization because that's how I roll. I also swear before 9:00 AM now. So, there are still a few things to work out, but pretty soon I should be right around 90% and I will take that.

Why would anyone read this? I am writing to myself.

What a Sucka Dick

I recently heard/imagined that, Dick Cheney, in lieu of his recent public relations forest fire, planned on giving back to the people by introducing a new forty ounce beer variety. It will be brewed by Halliburton Breweries/Chemical Warfare division, but he had nothing to do with securing them the contract to produce the product. What is it? What makes it special? Well, it is a forty that features lottery scratchers on the label and is to be sold in poor inner-city areas throughout the United States and even Canada. It is to be called Dick Cheney's Blottery Beer.

When reached for comment (imaginarily) Dick Cheney said "I thought that this would be a good way to a) take even more money from the American people while giving them a brief glimpse of hope in the shape of financial freedom and then crushing their dreams of wealth and b) add one more notch on my evil belt." It was then reported that he ate a handful of hundred dollar bills, had the blood removed from an eight year old boy to fuel his black heart and shot someone in the face while kicking a puppy.

In other news, I was hanging out watching TV and my friend who shares my bed from time-to-time in order to be efficient like those that shower together to save water remarked to me that I should have a talk show on TV because I talk a lot and I'm funny. Clearly, the charming things are not annoying to her yet. I sat on that for 12 seconds and imagined how awesome it would be. Here's the plan. Due to my utter self-absorption it would be brilliant and follow the normal talk show formula. I would have a monologue where I talk about what I did in the past 24 hours or week. Then, I would have some celebrities on to be interviewed. Here is where my show is unique. Because I am self-absorbed to the point of nausea to listeners, I turn all of the celebrity stories into stories about me. They end up promoting nothing, feel unimportant and I get to talk about myself. Also, for college students, they could create a drinking game where they take a drink everytime I say "I" and a shot if I ever talk about playing in a band.

I see this as a win-win for the general populous as we take the wind out of the overblown celebrity market and get back to real people that have funny stories about their weird uncle. Only problem would be that nobody would watch, however, that is becoming the mark of brilliance on TV so I'd take that. If you have a high-rated sitcom on TV right now, you are most likely using canned laughter so your retarded audience knows when it is okay to laugh and you are also probably going for no-brainer jokes that are obvious from a setup almost two minutes before you drop the punchline or sight gag. I will miss you so much Arrested Development.

The solution to this is to start funding educational programs at a young age and get the noses pulled out of US, People, and In Style magazines for the girls and I don't know where the dudes noses are, but based on recent research, I don't think it is Cargo magazine.

Recommendations: Happy Tree Friends and Attack of The Show on G4, Blueberries, Battlestar Galactica, Hating on MySpace, but still checking your e-mail, and NoisePop SF 2006.

Super Great

I just got the news that I wouldn't be getting a bonus for the first time in three years at work because my performance was not a usual extraordinary over the last eight months. If you do the math, you figure out where it dropped off. Granted, in the last month or so things have improved greatly at work, but that's not enough to make up for the lost time. On top of that, I've gone from being considered for supervisor to getting a supervisor. The thing is I'm getting what I deserve. I don't expect it to get handed to me because I've had to endure a rough few months.

On the other hand, when I started writing this I had dropped fifty or sixty pounds, I wasn't sleeping anymore, I wasn't eating, I was coughing up blood and I was taking Tylenol PM to sleep every night. On top of that, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I was battling alcohol and I felt alone in a crowd. So, outside of work, I have been doing extraordinary and I guess that softens the blow. Plus, I have all of this year to do better and get back to where I was. I can't blame anyone. I should've been stronger than this and no one should be responsible for your performance besides yourself. Learned some important things this year that will come in handy way outside of work and way down the line. I also figured if I let this go on the Interweb I could let it go out of my head for now.

I Don't Know What I'm Doing

I've been focusing on work today because I realize in regards to dating members of the opposite sex I have no idea what I am doing. No idea. Flying blind.

Right Into The DANGER ZONE

Good news: found the gray area of drinking and I am absolutely comfortable in it now. I'm smitten like seriously head over heels in a gay way for a girl who is way too hot, witty, smart and good for me. I haven't felt like this for six years. It feels good, but scary

Bad news: loose ends are going to have to be tied up somehow and I am going to have to prepare myself for about 45 "You are such an asshole. I hate you"s in order to tie them up. Smitten is scary because women can be evil and ruthless if you put yourself in a position to let that happen.

Anyway, went from zero to four in a week and now have to figure out how to get it to one. I suppose the equation is relatively simple, you just minus three, but I am struggling with it today. I guess the key is to always be okay with being back at zero no matter what happens, but I swear to god this girl is so awesome I would fuck her brother if she had one. That's super scary.

Making New Friends and Influencing People

Well, it's tax season and many people are concerned with write-offs so I thought I would address it. Recently, it has become more evident than ever that I am going to have to rebuild a pretty good empire of friends that were built over an 18 year period in some cases. I have salvaged what I could, but I have not seen many friends in what is approaching a year. Some broken acquaintances have been by choice and others are a result of being excluded because people would be taken out of their comfort zone for reasons that I am a little bit more than indirectly responsible. I'm not a finger pointer, but I can't have the whole blame rest on my head. On the other hand, if I was that awesome it probably wouldn't be a problem.

So, has begun a period of rebuilding and I should be right back where I was as I approach 50. I really shouldn't let it bother me, but sometimes I miss some of those friends and while I understand, it still sucks sometimes as I try to adapt to new ones and build new quality friendships. I'm just still alittle bit stubborn about accepting the situation and I still tend to find friends that may be not of the standard that I am looking for. It feels unfair sometimes, but I don't really believe in unfair anymore. It's not a matter of fair vs. unfair. It is a matter of this is what you got, so work with it and make the best of it. The art of faking it eventually will become an art of day-to-day living.

Black Scabbath

I went to therapy for the first time in six weeks with the intention of breaking up with my therapist because I felt like I was doing better. A friend had referred to therapy as picking a scab the other night and I'm starting to believe that to be true. He was in a band with me off and on for seven or eight years and is in therapy for a similar situation to mine and we joke about how almost everyone who was in the band is in therapy now. If we ever start a new band together it would have to be called "Fourth Session" at this point. I would have to get a tattoo touched up, but then at least it would be consistent. After recent events the tattoo is more like a scar than a badge of honor. Well, it was never a badge of honor, but it was never a scar of shame and regret before.

Anyway, in the session after bleeding my inner self, filled with doubt and concern, all over the rug, it became kind of apparent that I may need more therapy. On the other hand, I was feeling a lot better when I wasn't being forced to talk about it every two weeks. It would seem that I have an old problem that could be serious that I thought I was beating. Yeah, you could chalk it up to the first holiday alone, but alcoholics are brilliant excusists in their own mind. If I don't deal with it now, there are a couple of excuses coming up in the next three months that could prove to be very dangerous to my psyche.

Meanwhile, post-therapy today, my productivity has grinded to a screeching halt and I find myself staring at a screen and nudging a friend over IM all day. It sucks. Then, I tell myself that I will just go home and get some work done, but Marissa's sister is coming back to the O.C. and I told my sister I would go to dinner with her. Apparently, she is concerned about things, too. Today is reminding me of the old days of this blog, but a little bit better. I ate lunch today and I quit Tylenol PM, so I'm still moving in the right direction, I'm just tripping on stuff here and there.

I'll recharge tonight and kick ass tomorrow and then pick up dry cleaning and stay home. That is the key for this weekend. Just stay home and be productive. Maybe visit family, but whatever I do, I do not need to go to the bars and meet people that I will not remember the next day. Here's how it works. Lonely. Go out to a bar and drink. Meet people. Talk to people for a while. Get wasted. Go black. Wake up next day and have numbers in phone without a clue of who they belong to. The driving problem is conquered at least as I don't even bring my car keys with me anymore and instead, have assigned a set of keys for drinking that consist of house key, laundry key and mail key. Seems brilliant some days and sad on other days.

Uncanny Resemblance

I hadn't posted a graphic in a while, so I pulled this out of my archive. Thought I would post it and let anyone know that I am working on splicing the DNA of a unicorn, a dog and a corndog to create the world's first Unicorndog. The body of a horse, the head of a dog and a horn of a delicious corndog. A few kinks so far in obtaining DNA from a unicorn, understanding any type of genetics as well as the difference between RNA and DNA and determining whether a corn dog has DNA at all.

Grey Stoked

I don't make resolutions. No cliches like quitting smoking, starting to work out, or quitting masturbating or anything lame like that. This year I am making an effort to make some slight adjustments. I want to learn to live in the gray area. Just exist at point zero on the number line. No love, no hate. I won't get mad at anyone or anything, but I won't like anything too much. That means no overplugging of good bands or telling anyone that anything is brilliant. I guess it's okay to feel that way about some things, but I am going to try to keep it to myself. I will never eat more than makes me full and I will not eat too little either. I won't talk too much and I won't be too quiet. No happy and no sad. I won't oversleep, but I will get at least seven hours every night. I won't call you ever again, but I won't try to not call you. I won't drink too much, but I won't quit drinking. I will clean my apartment once a week, but no more than that. I will do laundry once a week, but I will not separate the colors and wash it in warm, not hot or cold. I will watch less TV, but I will watch worse shows. I will eat one unhealthy meal a week and go to lunch when I'm at work rather than the gym. I will fuck up and do something stupid once a month. I will exist as an individual, but not be a hermit and avoid friends and family in observance of Obi-Wan weekends.