Miss Teen Wordpower

I'm going to go ahead and say it: "Miss Teen Wordpower" by the New Pornographers has got to be one of the happiest songs ever.

A perfect Sunday? Make a pot of coffee and crank up the first New Pornographers album, Electric and start cleaning. It's a religious experience. You'll be amazed at what you find yourself cleaning.

I'm Serious.

It's My Lot In Life

There are a couple things that provide stability in my life. The primary stabilizer outside of disappointment is laundry. It's a freakish addiction, but it's my happy place. It's my candles in the bathtub if I were a woman.

On that note, as a married individual, or a husband as they are called, I had a gripe about laundry. It was a fly in my ointment. It was a panty liner stuck to well, panties, since that's what they line, right? So, here's the deal. I really don't like finding them in the dryer, ever. So, as a non-married individual, or philanderer as some call it, I've not had to deal with that issue in about three years.

So, today, while I'm minding my own business and doing a load of whites, the most scum and villainous of all laundry when it comes to folding and sorting, I found a fucking panty liner in the dryer. What the fuck? Do the same creatures that steal one white sock or shrink one work sock also put panty liners in dryers? There hasn't even been a panty liner, to my knowledge, in my apartment since I moved in. I found a tampon in my medicine cabinet once that spurred a discussion that didn't end particularly well. As I recall, it ended with someone leaving my apartment with a bag of stuff.

I've since moved past that hangup, but it served as a symbol of doom at the time and I'll still stand by it being that symbol. I'm not totally jaded, however, for the right girl, there is a place in my medicine cabinet for her feminine sanitation products, but that is all time and place driven and should not be forced.

Also, there is no real Hallmark card that says "I like you so much..." on the oustside with a little fuzzy bear and then when you open it it reads "...that you can leave tampons at my house." There could be a market for that one, though. I'd also recommend putting a Starbucks or Target gift card inside if you ever have to give it to anyone assuming that the card gets created.

Losing To Learn How To Live

Spent the last couple of days finally accepting being sick and sleeping a lot. Like more sleep than I've had in a long time. It helped put everything back in perspective. I had lost my perspective for a little bit and through the help of a couple of ghosts, I feel that I've gained it again.

An hour long talk with my ex-wife the other day did wonders for some mental spring cleaning. I'd like to hope that being able to talk to your ex-wife is a sign of personal evolution and not the other way around. I'll get the question "Do you still love her?" all the time from people. Of course, I do, but not in a sleep together way. It's more of a brother and sister way. We break each others balls, but will totally be there for one another in an "In Case of Emergency. Break Glass" moment. It's severely ironic that a person who breached my trust more than anyone also still has the most of it. Call it what you will, but I think it's okay.

A brief text conversation with another ex helped a little bit, too. It was to congratulate her on getting engaged, but quickly moved to how bad I mistreated her and an apology. Again, we are all good now and when she's in town, she has an open invitation to lunch with me. I was a real asshole to her and will own up to it. I feel bad about it, but try to not treat people like that anymore. You've got to fuck up to learn.

So, the thing is, if you truly want to find out things about yourself that will lead to personal growth, go to your largest critics. Go to the people that hate you or hated you. While they can never beat you up as much as you can beat yourself up, they offer some form of atonement and brutal honesty that you need at times.

So, after that, I went to an adult/kids party. It was my old boss' house and there were tons of kids around and everyone were in pairs except for me. It put some stuff in perspective again. Eventually, the life of the party needs to hang up the life. You hear old friends talk about getting "hall passes" every month to go get wasted while you are on a permanent hall pass and while changing a shitty diaper doesn't sound like that much fun, a night in playing Scrabble with someone you care about sounds kind of entertaining. What do you give up for that? Oh, I don't know, nights of four hours of sleep, hangovers, trips to get STD screenings, mornings/weekends of secret regret meetings with yourself, endless disappointments, and people who you don't remember saying "Hello" to you in public places. You have to give up a lot for the "good life," but I'm at least checking out the pamphlets at this point. There's just an overwhelming fear that I would fail at it. Fear of failure, keeping winners losing since 1975.

So, the good news, it's a beautiful day. I've already finished a crossword puzzle and have laundry in while I spot clean my carpet. Totally showered and also found myself smiling like a wackjob crazy for no reason three times this morning. I was gathering up a bunch of crap and decided that I would make the most bizarre donation to the Goodwill today. It's a book called "Penis Pokey" that my sister gave me for Christmas one year. There's not even any words in it, I don't think, so you might like it if you liked the DaVinci Code. So, it's just kind of taking up space and I thought it would make a good donation. I hope to god it actually makes it on the shelf. That would be really, really funny. Here's a pic:

You Want Some Cheese With That, Wuss?

Okay. After the whiny last two posts, I felt that it was a disservice to everyone who read them to not put something worthwhile up. So, yes, anyone who read the previous two posts, I owe you five minutes of your life back. If you can find me, I'll give it to you.

I kind of figured out what was going on and find it a collection of unacknowledged stress from work, being sick, and just some life stuff that created the perfect storm of brain clutter. So, I just slept for 14 hours and am putting puzzle pieces back into place and think it's going to be all right. It has to be.

Think it may be time to hang up the party pants and pick up the responsibilipants. I just can't find them anywhere. It's been that long. It's fine when everyone around you at dinner is laughing while you harmlessly flirt with the waitress, but you get home and the apartment gets quiet and you start to feel like an arrogant, loudmouthed asshole. The question is is it really you or are you doing the monkey dance because you believe it's what everyone wants you to be. This is where the breakdown begins. You can't be both people. I think you've got to pick one path and just start heading in that direction. It shouldn't be that hard.

So, still nothing worthwhile, but I'll go outside at some point today and report back.

Kill Your Televison: Part VIII

I started watching Pleasure For Sale on the Sundance Channel about a week ago. I just watched my second episode of it and I feel like I need a shower. It's about the Chicken Ranch in Pahrump where the only thing weirder than the prostitutes are their customers. The first episode I saw had a dude who was in love with his prostitute and started crying when talking about how he had pursued a relationship with her and she wouldn't do it. She would, however, take money from him and fuck balloons because he got off with balloons. Makes that Erin Gray in Buck Rogers spandex jumpsuit thing that I have look tame.

So, then there is the prostitute who had a husband. That was kind of weird. I'm into trusting someone and I'm into letting an individual that I care about spread their wings and express themselves sexually, however, fucking dudes for money is a dealbreaker. You can totally add that one to the list. I think it goes beyond the "cheating" thing and goes to the level that I feel it is a disservice to all parties involved to fuck someone for personal gain while faking any type of connection. Yeah, I'm a softie deep down. That's the big con. Tricking the dumb man into thinking that you care about him. That's why the guy is really there, I have to imagine. A guy who finds himself with a prostitute has a hole in his life that is in need of some patching and I don't think a romp with a stranger is going to help at all, but I'm no Psychologist nor stranger romper.

Just as women get into porn, stripping, prostitution because of something really shitty that a man they trusted most likely did to them, men are there, too waging some type of revenge on the opposite sex. It's a collection of unresolved problems and issues preventing a person or persons from truly living a fruitious life. Yes, strippers love money the way ducks love bread (thanks, Tony), but I think the money affords them the freedom they need to distract them from the core issues that haunt their souls whether that be cocaine or sweats with writing on the ass of them.

Now, I don't know shit about anything and I'll be the first person to let you know that, but at least I know that I don't know. That's the first step towards learning. I do know that I'm not a huge fan of strippers ever since I got to know a few in college. They all had potential to be totally normal and some of them could even have been girlfriend material because they were super hot, but that's where everything stopped. You need so much more as a person than a nice rack and good hair. There's humor, intelligence, self-esteem, the ability to deal with Nazi's-looking-into-the-ark-and-melting stressful situations.

Yes, she must look good in a bathing suit and fit well with you on a couch in a pair of sweats while it rains, but she also must be able to beat you in Scrabble and look at you and go "Fuck you. You're totally wrong. I'm Googling that."

Instead, these beautiful girls would be in the bathroom when I got home from work stuffing themselves full of pharmaceuticals. I think that's what was going on. I kind of didn't even want to know what was going on at 3:00 AM on a Sunday morning. I just kind of had to use the restroom and noticed that they would be in there for a while.

About a year ago I did find out about one of them wiping herself with our hand towel because there was no toilet paper in the bathroom. The information came from a dude in a tree who was looking in through the bathroom window and is one of the creepiest, but funny stories I had heard in a while. She was hot. I don't think she was up a tree and peek in the window hot, though.

Do not mistake any of this rant as misogyny. I don't hate prostitutes, strippers and the like. I find it disappointing that a person is at that place in their life. I feel the same way about 45 year old guys at Best Buy. In a perfect world everyone could be a fireman or an astronaut. In a perfect world the homeless would be clean shaven and smell like cucumber lotion from Victoria's Secret. In a perfect world there wouldn't be the need for people to sell themselves and there would be someone for everyone like they say in books. Huey Lewis had song called Perfect World, didn't he? Yep. 1998.

So, back to the show. There have been two episodes that I've seen and a prostitute has cried on both. They really aren't that hot and I can't believe the clients. The idea of sitting in a double wide and looking at a lineup of dive bar chicks just sounds horrible to me, but at least I got to see the process without actually going to one of those places. Finally, I guess I'm looking forward to next week's episode.

The Book of Jim 3:16

So, I knew I was not a huge fan of my birthday and kind of didn't like Christmas, but Easter was retarded. Something was going on subconsciously that just wanted to ruin Easter any way I could yesterday. It started with theological debates with my Mormon grandmother where I immediately began the Bill Hicks inspired dinosaur bones argument versus the 6,000 year old bible history.

I think it started because she told my nephews that Jesus was speared and gored to make way for the Jewish holiday that was approaching. I countered to save their tiny brains by telling them that Jesus wasn't special and that they did that to everyone. She then turned and it was on. Yes, I'll argue with my grandma when I find it appropriate. She got a little pissed when I called her "teachings" propaganda projected on children's ears incapable of independent thought.

Now, sidenote here. Her and my grandpa raised me for a few years while my mom went to court reporting school and was 21 years old, so we go back a bit. Also, for loyal readers, I was raised and baptised Mormon so during this talk my poor grandmother is trying to figure out where she went wrong and why am I not drinking Postum and paying a 10% tithing. Not a huge fan. I actually told her about the day that I became agnostic. I was six years old and had to stay with some Mormon friends of the family that were not the Osmonds. So, I'm six years old and one of the kids asked me if I believed in God. I told him I wasn't sure. He replied that if I didn't I was going to burn in hell and be in pain for eternity. By the time, I had woke up the next morning, I was done with it.

Are you going to sell fucking Diet Coke by saying "Drink Diet Coke or you are going to burn and be in pain for an eternity?" This fear bullshit would only possibly work on the religous fucks who somehow find comfort in fear. Life is too fuckin' short to fear shit like that you god-fearing-retards (Republicans). Live a little. Snort coke off a hooker's ass. Christ, if there is a heaven, don't you want to bring stories about living? Do stupid shit. It makes life interesting and worthwhile. When your life goes to shit, you find religion. "Uhhh. Sorry, sir. You did too much heroin. Now, go find God."

You ever notice that it doesn't go the other way? Like, "Jesus, I way OG'd on God and totally found heroin."

Really, though, I could care less if you worship a fucking coffee pot or Zeus. It's your fuckin' right. The spot where I have a problem is when you force your beliefs on someone else. Don't you fuckin' dare knock on my door to talk about your savior unless she is naked, hot, willing and with you. Don't hand me a fuckin' pamphlet. Don't even look at me if you have a name tag on and ride a tenspeed door to door spreading your beliefs. If you want to impress me with your faith, sit down with three people of opposing faiths to yours and have fuckin' lunch. Now, that's a perfect world. As soon as we realize that no one is really going to win, we can start to move forward. No one is keeping score. Also, remember that no one keeps score after 1:00 AM.

Things:

Things I like: I like Nalgene bottles. I like movies that don't have Whoopi Goldberg in them. I like Lazy Sundays next to the pool with a book and my iPod and an occasional small Asian child semi-drowning while I nap. The last part I don't really like it just happens all the time in my complex. I've pulled two out of the pool to date.

Things I fuckin' love and had no idea that I loved: The teriyaki chicken bowl from Wahoo's Fish Tacos. It's black beans, ahi rice, teriyaki chicken and a tiny amount of a salsa garnish. My only thing that I would change would be more vegetables, but that thing was super good. Plus, I got to watch skate vids the whole time while I ate and noticed two John Lucero stickers stuck to the wall. My first real deck was either an old Lucero or a Caballero with Boneite. Probably the Lucero. It was such a tight deck. So, yes, I love the chicken bowl at Wahoo's and I think I will add it to my list of places to dine alone.

Things I may like: I went to Fry's at lunch to buy a new mouse. I had a bluetooth mouse because I kept catching my ankle in the cord of my other one, but the bluetooth went batshit crazy and was retired in favor of the Logitech MX 620 Cordless Laser mouse. I'll admit, I'm more of an optical mouse guy, but whatever, as long as there is no cord to get caught in, I'm good. The new mouse has a kickass scroll wheel that you can just spin forever. I'm a huge fan. Can't think of a compelling need for it, but awesome.

Also, I got reversible headphones. Swear. They are A4 Tech DualFit Metallic Earphones. They are so metal that they are made of metal. That's metal. One side is more bass responsive and one side is for "Clear, Crisp Sound." Honestly, they aren't the best sounding headphones, but they block out office noise (co-workers talking to me or each other or their kids on their phones) very well.

Things I would like: One night of uninterrupted, eight-hour lasting sleep.

Of Nano-Climates and Scientists

First off, I (heart) the new We Are Scientists album a lot. I noticed yesterday that at 2:44 into "Let's See It" there is a blender or vacuum or something going on in the left channel. I kept taking my headphones off at work and looking around for what was making the sound. I looked like a tard.

Update: "Chick Lit" off of Brain Thrust mastery makes me want to dance on a houseboat after taking two Vicodin and drinking four Bud Lights. If not, I'd put money on it happening on someone's coffee table. If I'm at a party or any type of function accompanied by music at your house, do not put this song on. If you do, your coffee table will be danced on. BTW, horrible dancer. Horrible.

Here's a picture from my sister's birthday that I took. I've got pics from the drive up through the city (SF) that I'll have to post. There is a Doggie Diner, my old flat, and traffic jams. The change of scenery that flashed by on the way to Healdsburg was kind of a trip. Also, Cotati still smells like ass. I stopped at a Target there to buy some shorts in the event that a hot tub party erupted at the house. I secretly enjoyed the peacefulness of the house and Healdsburg, but that's just between you and me. If anyone found out, I'd lose a shred of streetcred-grade smarminess.


Oh, so the reason I logged in to post was to post today's office nano-climate forecast. It's exactly the same as everyday. I just read this about my office on weather.com.

"From 7 - 10 your office will be amazingly pleasant. At 10:00, you will start to notice loss of feeling in your hands as joint hardening cold makes its way from your fingertips to your shoulders. At 11:00, working with the keyboard will become almost unbearable to the point of violating OSHA standards set for meatpackers working in refrigerated warehouses. At 1:00 someone will have complained or they just plan this, but the office will start to heat up in an effort to lull you gently to sleep in a way very similar to that of a hypnotist's pocket watch or a roofie. At 4:00, perfect office climate will be achieved again as you leave."

Hey Phucker

Okay. Here's a follow-up. I looked at the e-mail that I got from HP after two days of trying to contact a human being.

There was a ton of idealism in college about how to conduct business, but some of it rang true if not made a good rule to bend slightly when conducting commerce i.e. making the world go round. This is ridiculous, though. Look how personal this e-mail is:

"Dear Customer, (Customer. That's like writing dear HR Manager when submitting a resume. It's just faking it. If it's going to fall flat like that and shout that it's a form letter just don't even try.)

Thank you for your order from Hewlett-Packard. This is your delivery receipt. Please keep it for your records. Should you need help, please contact customer service (There is no such thing. HP customer support without a support contract is an urban legend) of the Hewlett-Packard store from which you purchased, by following the "contact hp" link from the home page. You don't buy the product that I bought at the store. Maybe should have stuck with a more general form letter that just said 'You, thanks.-HP Peace Out.'

As always, your interest and continued use of Hewlett-Packard products are greatly appreciated. We look forward to serving your needs in the future. I don't think HP has any interest in serving me in the future and they will still probably get the sale. It feels like sleeping with an ex. I'm going to feel dirty and of low self-esteem when I buy this product. I will feel like a man of no discipline and morals. I'll feel professionally whorish making this purchase.

Sincerely,

Hewlett-Packard Company (There is nothing sincere about signing a letter like that. It's like getting a note from your car on a post-it. 'Hey Hugh. I need a car wash. Sincerely, a Honda Civic Automobile.)"

So, I'm going to recommend that Hewlett-Packard Company go to Borders Bookselling Company and purchase a book in the Business section about customer-centric business practices. God knows there are a ton of those kinds of books. Instead of illegally listening to their board members phone calls a few years back, they really should have focused on listening to their customers. This was a shoo-win sale, but I'm going to look for something open source or a competitor. This is ridiculous.

Sincerely,
Hugh Voltage Blogging Organism

Huge Pain

Ummm. If you are driving in silicon valley and you see an HP building, just let me assure you that it is an empty building. Even if the parking lot is full? There is no one in that building. You see people? Holograms.

Trying to get anything from this company has proved to be a phone maze of button pushing which is entertaining as some kind of meta-game of commerce, but when you are looking to perform an efficient and timely business transaction, you don't have time to play meta-games.

I seriously have no idea how this company sells anything outside of ink, but they do have an elaborate system of license granting and e-mail procurement that leaves people completely out of the loop. They should remove all of the jpegs on their web site that show people and just put phone keypads. Seriously. They have me by the balls on this because I need the product and I especially need the license so that I can get the patches I need to get Internet Explorer to work again after their demo version killed it this weekend. Fuck. Not a huge fan of HP right now, yet feel closer to them than I did a week ago because of all the time we've spent together lately.

Also, I'm a little suspect (sounds like a midget pickpocket) of their disdain towards people. When did SkyNet become self-aware? 1997? I'm not going to point any fingers, but could HP be the company that is going to turn against the human race with it's phone recording, button mashing army?

Dude, you're just not that awesome.

When you are me, nights can go from routine to interesting within seconds. When I meet people, I'll leave a mark sometimes. For instance, last night, myself and a couple of other guys from my soccer team went to get a few beers at my local watering hole. The watering hole where I have CDs in the jukebox for my comfort. The watering hole where I know the bouncers and all the staff and have been on drinking missions outside of their establishment with them. It's a safe place.

So, when a small Irish man gave his ID to the bouncer while we were talking and then one of his friends called him by his bald Irish name, I realized I knew who he was and he wanted to kill me for dating his girlfriend after picking up on her in front of him and then telling him to "punch me in the fuckin' face you fuckin' pussy." Pappy was there and claims I kinda ruined breakfast. It happened a long time ago, but I didn't know if he had let it go. He hadn't recognized me yet, though, and I was seriously within ten inches of him. It was like being invisible. I felt like I was swimming with a tiny shark all night and milled about narrowly missing bumping into him and looking over my shoulder a lot. I figured a punch was going to come from behind and I kept my eye on him just in case.

Then, the bouncer walked up to me and goes "He heard someone use your name and figured out who you are and was talking mad shit about you out front. Watch your back."

This is the price of handsome and charming. It just puts a damper on my night. It's not that I'm handsome. It's not that I'm charming. It's not that I'm awesome. It's that he is not that awesome. It's dudes like him that lower the bar for me to look good. I was just a vehicle for his girlfriend to get out of a situation that she was not really happy in. If anything I did him a favor and yes it feels like ripping a band-aid off, but sometimes you just gotta count to three and rip it at two.

I will say this, though, it's no reason to make out with a fat chick in front of the bathroom in a public place. Get a hold of yourself, dude. People are watching. That's just a loss of self-respect. If you are going to make out with a girl in a bar, make sure she is super hot. Pro tip.

Dude, you're just not that awesome.

We Are Scientists - Brain Thrust Mastery

Song by song review of the new We Are Scientists album. I've only been through it a couple of times and I've been working while I did it, but I'll make this quick.

1. Ghouls - I was expecting the first song to jump out of the gate like they did on With Love and Squalor. They fuckin' hit the ground running on that album and the video displays another reason that you should fear bears. On Ghouls they are still self-deprecating with a tongue in their cheek. I hope it's tongue in cheek. Well, basically it starts "We all recognize/That I'm the problem here." It dirges along on the bass line for a bit and then the drums and guitar come in and it picks up a bit. There is a sample in the left channel unless the drummer is riding the hi-hat. Kicks in the right channel. I dig it a bit. Overall, though, this song just serves as a long, repetitive, ambient demo.

2. Let's See It - The riff in this song runs up behind you and puts you in a headlock. It's awesome. There is something Phil Spector-ish of the chorus on this song. I think it's the chamber echo or ginormous reverb going on. It just sounds real good. This should be the single off the album. I'm not sure which one is. The pre-chorus "Oh-Ohs" are pretty good, too. Those are good in songs when used properly. They always remind me of Genesis' "Land of Confusion" for some reason. What a fucked up video that was. So, yes, love this song.

3. After hours - What's up acoustic guitar? Hmmm. Someone in white pants will dance to this song like George Michael in the Wham! years. This song reminds of something, but I can't quite get my hand around it. Oh, it reminds me of the song Common People by Pulp which was recently covered by Shatner and Joe Jackson. It's almost got a Killers vibe to it except it's not whiny and shitty.

4. Lethal Enforcer - Holy Shit! You got your Duran Duran in my We Are Scientists. This is straight up DD, but without biting. It's a jam. This is a cool song. Chris Cain is becoming one of my favorite modern bass players. He knows just the right notes to play and carries some of the songs as they are a trio. He is definitely tapping the vein of John Taylor on this.

5. Impatience - This song is different. I'm mixed on it. It isn't bad, but it isn't awesome. It's song number five out of eleven. It fills space. It gets kind of Killers in the middle. No band wants to be compared like that. So, again, it's that Duran Duran that the MTV generation carries with it whether they know it or not. The Duran Duran bridge that you write and then go "Fuck, I just wrote the Duran Duran bridge."

6. Tonight - Pulling off the 80's guitar tone on this. This song pulls the listener out of song 5 like the administration of CPR to a drowning victim. Well arranged, interesting and fuzz bass. Love it. The bass just owns the bridge. This song is cool.

7. Spoken For - The guitar has that Spector vibe again. They must have done their homework between albums and have good musical taste. This album definitely shows growth from their first album and is not a rehash. There are similarities, but there are also a lot of changes. It's cool. They are so rad the way they will have this shoe gazing groove going and then in the bridge just grab you and throw you across the room. Take a note Jack Johnson, it's called dynamics. Really cool arrangement.

8. Altered Beast - Bass line sounds like Muse right here in a good way. The production on this one is so dense you could take a bite out of the backing vocals if you had to. The use of space by the drummer on this song is smart. You don't need to hit all the notes when the bass line is keeping the rhythm. It's like a throwback to old school jazz when the bass carried the rhythm and the drums were the accents and syncopations. Write that down.

9. Chick Lit - Dude, a hybrid. This sounds like We Are Scientists and Duran Duran. Perfect melding of an influence. Paying homage without biting. It's a gray line. This song is great. The groove is sick. The club remix is probably already in the can.

10. Dinosaurs - You could sing "Devil Went Down To Georgia" over the beginning of this song. Cool groove. Good bass line. They're a good band.

11. That's What Counts - It almost is Roxy Music Club-by. The harmonies are great. There is also a great organ on this song and then a sax thrown in. They are keeping music interesting and I thank them for that.

Pre-Order Brain Thrust Mastery here. Seriously, pre-order it.

New Advertising Campaign Idea #234

It's really based on my love affair with Yoplait yogurt which borders on the obscene-No, I have never stuck my...whatever, I don't need to justify my love affair with Yoplait to anyone. It's between us and that's all that matters. It started when I was a kid and the foil top and shape of the container was so much cooler than the fruit on the bottom or Alpha Beta brand yogurt. God, fruit on the bottom yogurt was so gross. Anyway, it was just way cooler and more fun to eat because it felt like you were eating the insides of a tiny spaceship.

I recently was at the grocery store in a hunger blackout and came home with 10 containers of Yoplait, beanless turkey chili, and I think I actually bought corn dogs or something. Rule to live by: Don't go to the grocery store hungry or high. It's like going to Vegas and drinking to many RVs (Red Bull-Vodkas) and you start seeing through the cards, spilling a drink on the table every twenty minutes and giving a speech to a blackjack dealer that if he is offended by the word "Fuck" then he should go to DeVry and get a different job that's not in a casino filled with drunk people trying to get their rips in before Cirque Du Soleil or a marriage. Yeah, grocery shopping hungry is exactly like that.

Anyway, I was just thinking how awesome it would be if Yoplait put out an ad campaign inspired by the Cocoa Puffs Cuckoo who is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and goes all ape shit to try to eat them which implies to children watching the cartoon that they should wear down their parents until they buy them so that the children can be crazy, too.

So, I was thinking that the Yoplait version could be an animated French mime that just appears on the screen with accordion music on in the background. First, he puts on a beret. Then, he lights up one of those super long cigarettes that French people smoke and says very subtly "I'm gay for Yoplait." Other commercials could feature notable French people and gay people alike announcing that they are gay for Yoplait. I'm sensing a movement much like the "I'm a Pepper. You're a Pepper." movement. It would be like "You and I are gay...for Yoplait."

I'd like to see that commercial. I'd also like to see what would happen if I walk by a mime and say under my breath, but just loud enough for the mime to hear, to someone "Don't worry. It's just a shitty clown."

You Can Be A Winner At The Game Of LIFE

So, the story goes that Newton was sitting under a tree and a coconut fell out of it and hit him on the head and that's how he discovered...Wait, dude. A coconut? He lived in England. I think I've got the Schoolhouse Rocks! version of this smashed into my memory. It's like knowing the comic book or rather, graphic novel version of Moby Dick or the Bible.

Regardless, I subscribe to the belief that the best things in life happen when you are not looking both ways before you cross stuff (rivers, landing strips, roadways). Besides the pedestrian fatalities and curb induced concussional blunt head trauma victims, the people that don't die sometimes experience some cool stuff. It's a kind of social Darwinism, meets luck, meets Kismet and then smashes you over the head with a flower pot while you hope for the best.

That is the best way I can describe life in general. At least, life as I know it. Don't try anything. Do something. Always remember, however, that your cards may already be dealt no matter what you do. Good things can happen if you sweat your ass off or just point and laugh. Life is awesome and shitty at the same time like that.

I forgot why I was talking about this this morning. I guess the point is that you can never take yourself too seriously, nor your surroundings. I mean, guy, if there is someone with a shiv in your kidney in the shower in jail, take it seriously. That is not the time to laugh at yourself and the wacky situation that you got yourself into. For the rest of us who sit at coffee shops and do crosswords and have a positive outlook on life without feeling that we are owed something, though, it's good to know that good things can happen for no reason.

These good things can range from getting an onion ring in your large fries at Burger King to finding a ten dollar bill in the dryer. That's the biggest range I've been able to pull off in the recent past, but it counts.

Actually, I'm finding ways to stumble into good things happening, as well, after a crash course down the path of good intentions and least resistance. I'm smarter than that. In fact, I'm smart enough to write subtext into documents by saying cryptic things.

I've also left a path of destruction behind me while I was stumbling, but wouldn't change a thing. It was worth it already. I really needed the bitchslap of how good people still were that I received lately. It helps restore my faith in the fact that there may be less crooked hookers than good people in the world. The crooked hookers were really winning for a while, but some people can be so fuckin' rad. The trail of the dead that is left behind is really inconsequential.

Happy hump day.

Hey Diddle-Lee Dee...

...Ninjas take a point in the ongoing battle of pirates vs. ninjas unless someone can find a book called Sodomy and the Ninja Tradition. Sweet. I'm seeing Google search hits on "Ninja Sodomy" now. Whatever. See below.


Here is a link to the GoogleBook page.

I (Heart) Will Arnett

He lost his gig as the voice of the car in Knight Rider, but that may have been fortunate as I watched that piece of dogshit Ford commercial and it was beyond awful. Will Arnett is brilliant for this.

The News

I'm sitting here working diligently and shuffling the 8,000 songs on my iPod. It's always interesting. I noticed that that Journey song "Lovin', touchin', squeezin'" or whatever it is, is not as bad as I previously thought. I'll expect one more gray hair for having that thought.

Anyway, there is the volume adjustment in iTunes that I have to occasionally use on some files. Journey was actually one of them and Huey Lewis & The News is definitely the other. I'm mindin' my own business writing a retarded script and "WHACK!" H & The News just starts blarin' in my fuckin' ears. I think it actually may have caused a nosebleed. Sadly, it was "Doin' It All For My Baby" off of Fore!.

The preceding paragraph may have just inspired me to put together an awareness campaign towards musicians that would demand respect for the letter G in the use of present participles in song titles. It's just an idea. Somethin' to do.

A Confession

So, that's Hugh Voltage in Halo 3. He's a corporal grade 2 and is very aware that there is a war going on in the future...and it's being fought by 13 year olds.

I went home last evening after work and cracked a beer and started playing some Halo 3 again. It had been like a week and I had been playing some other games because my dreams were getting kind of disturbing and my hands would shake for a little bit afterwards. Totally healthy. Last night I dreamed that I had moved back in with my step-dad and that I witnessed a helicopter accident on the freeway. It was stressful enough to wake me up.

So, first couple games were mellow, I was learning the controller again and playing with no headset. I had forgot some of the maps and was just getting pwn3d on some of them. Occasionally, I would get carried by really good players.

Like five beers later, I'm still playing and I've got the headset on and I'm talking shit back. One kid is just ranting in Spanish, but myself and another guy are kinda catching some of the stuff he is saying. I think he said "Head Shot" in Spanish a bunch. Then, these two twelve year olds were just yelling about pwnag3 and dominating the game. Finally, this four man team had screen names of "Douchiest," "Less Douchie,""Douchie," and "More Douchy." They then whipped our ass in about three minutes. They were douchie.

One dude started talking shit directly to me and I told him that he is fat, pimply and can't do one sit up in real-life and to enjoy his alternate life in an imaginary universe. He, then, got all quiet and just replied "Dude, it's all I do." It felt like an intervention and I felt kinda bad.

Then, I accepted a team invite from afro man jkls and this other guy. Afro Man is hecka good. He is also 13. The conversation went like this:

"How old are you HughVoltage?"

"Dude, I'm an old man. I'm 32."

He replied "I'm 13."

Then, the other guy goes "Don't worry about it, dude. I'm 40. You've got a dude coming up behind you."

I'll admit it was reassuring to know that there were older guys playing than me. I'll also admit that it was way more cost efficient than spending the evening at a drinking establishment. I just don't know why I never get good.

Dude, I look kind of bad ass in that picture. I could see how people could get lost in their Halo dude.