Tiny Horses

So, in the last 72 years while you were a gleam in your father's pants, maybe born, got housebroken, learned to throw a ball, and grew up into the wonderful person that I assure you you are; in that 72 years there have been seeing eye horses. WTF?!?!?! you say? Yes. So did I, but it's real. I saw a picture of one in action and sent it to a friend who then sent me back a link to the Guide Horse Foundation's website and I stared at my monitor like I was seeing a UFO land in my backyard (if I had one). The term used was "bedazzled."

I've seen miniature horses before and I'm a big fan. I mean there are cat people, dog people, and even bird people. Then you get to the less common, fringe animal owners. These are your reptile and ferret people. Cat people are usually weird. Dog people are usually trying to fill a gap in their lives. Bird people...Weren't there bird people in Flash Gordon? God, Queen is awesome.

I don't know what to say about bird people. I had one and it died after it ate guacamole. Guacamole doesn't kill birds, people who give guacamole to birds kill birds. Anyway, he was named Tweety and after he died he lived in our freezer for months or maybe a year. The go-to joke was to pull him out of the freezer in his freezer bag home that had expanded with air death particles and throw him in someone's lap during a family party. As a family, I'll admit that we are twisted and dysfunctional, but it's kinda like when you are walking around in the Winter time and you just plant one shoe about 4 inches deep into a puddle. At first, you're all pissed off and your foot is cold and your sock is wet while your other foot is completely dry and normal. After about 17 steps you come to grips with the fact that that's your shoe now and that's just kinda how it is. Once you accept that you have a fucked up shoe, it's usually not as bad as it was initially.

So, bird people are like that. Whatever that means. The fringe animal arena is filled with people that are craving attention. That's why they are on the fringe and own illegal animals like ferrets. One popular ferret owner is none other than Perres Helton (that's misspelled on purpose to avoid getting picked up in search results of people looking for that name. I learned an important lesson when I namedropped Sisqo). So, yes, ferret people and reptile people are weird, attention cravers.

Now, I will fully admit that I'm making broad accusations almost to the point of being specist, but using the broad generalizations depicted above have got me this far and been in the area of 97% accurate. Broad generalizations rarely fail in the realm of Tommy Bahama shirts, tribal armband tattoos, guys that wear visors and are not golfing, people that drive large trucks, hippies, uber-recyclers, Prius drivers, gingers, people who wear eye patches, people who wear stunna shades in a club at night, croc wearers, people in sandals and socks, guys in moustaches who are not cops or firefighters, cops or firefighters without moustaches, guys in fanny packs, anyone from Orlando, anyone in Orlando, office talkers, etc...Broad generalization is a proven system that works.

So, anyway, what I was trying to say and totally getting sidetracked, was that out of all of those animal people it would be cool to be a mini horse owner. I'll acknowledge that it's totally in the fringe subset of animal owners and probably has elements of all of them wrapped into one. It would be weird, attention craving and filling a hole in my life that a human has been unable to do. So, I guess now is the point where I let everyone reading this know that I'm a huge hypocrite and have no right to judge weird cat people...and did "Don't Stop Believin'" really just come up on my iPod while I was shuffling? All of a sudden I feel like I'm in the work montage from a romantic comedy that has some guy writing on his computer as seen through the window by the camera. At the end of the montage it has him running through the rain while he's holding his trench coat in his hand. He turns the corner and goes to the spot where he met the girl interest in the movie because they had a fight over a misunderstanding and he chose his job over her. He sits there for a minute and looks down as the montage turns into the real scene and the girl gets out of a cab and runs to him. Pro tip: This does not happen in real life. Second Pro Tip: It would be The Shins or anything with Ben Gibbard in it instead of Journey.

So, I'll sum it up by saying that miniature horses are awesome.

Is This Really Necessary?

So, there is a Grease 2 fan site. Technically, the ultimate Grease 2 fan site. Granted, Michelle Pfeiffer helped me discover my special purpose during the ladder riding, cool rider scene and Adrian Zmed was brilliant, as usual, but does it warrant a fan site. Could/Did the Internet go to that place that TV did? I'm not one of those Kill Your TV shirt wearing hippy elitists, but I will admit that it is just fucking cluttered with crap. Somebody needs to clean the cat box that Comcast calls digital cable. It's not that TV sucks, but so much sucks on TV. Hate the playa, not the medium that it's transmitted on. Guns don't kill people, etc...So, when there are fan fiction sites for Good Times and extreme erotic guilds in web based RPGs, it may be time to build an app that will sift through the crap. I know there are some things out there that can help, but that's the Google killer, it's the application that cleans up your path down the WorldWebSuperHighway. Not censorship or rating systems of any kind, but simply streamlining. Now, here is Michelle Pfeiffer on the ladder. Thank you YouTube. At 1:32, you get jazz hands and the ladder. That's so rad.

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is going to be cooler than being born:

I'm Really Glad That I Read This Today

Not only will you die alone, but more quickly than non-alone people. That's great. At least the doctors figured out why. Might as well keep up the smoking.

Also, for the ladies that have participated in the sanctity of life: TrueMomConfessions.
And for those about to rip their office phones out of the wall and throw them down the stairs at work: TrueOfficeConfessions.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Drinks

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What is a Pinback?

Pinback is releasing Autumn of the Seraphs next week. I've been listening the shit out of the album and just have to say that these guys are such a breathe of fresh air and are truly unique when compared to emo, indie, or whatever term the rack at Target that houses their album calls their music.

Basically, there is tons of interplay between the bass and guitar utilizing a gang of syncopation, dissonance and resolution. Lyrically, they are extremely interesting and the delivery is usually subdued and mellow even when they are yelling.

So, here's the tracks:
1. From Nothing To Nowhere - The introduction almost sounds like it could be a Police song. It's got a driving guitar line that pushes the song through while the bass line just wrecks it through the verse and then players reverse positions while the bass plays it straight through the chorus while the guitar just riffs. Also, if you've got heeadphones listen for the organ low in the mix.

2. Barnes - Quintessential Pinback. It sounds like the bass and guitar are fighting playfully in this song. They really push that syncopation thing. It's almost like a King Crimson song or something. Totally prog-rock.

3. Good To Sea - The drumbeat on this song sound like it's coming off an old organ's presets, in a good way. It's just chill. "It's really not that kind/To terrorize one in one's sleep/And if you really tried/You'd probably cut the chase to deep." I care for that line. There is something truly nautical about this keyboard line, too. It sounds like it's being played on a submarine barely submerged. Don't ask me why.

4. How We Breathe - Dude. Rob Crow and Zach Smith are so better than you. I love the way this song starts. Again, the drum line is so subdued, but perfect for the song. Do they seriously say "Overneath" in this song? This song is about having anxiety I think. Not much to say about this song except the guitar tone sounds a bit like a grandfather clock at the end.

5. Walters - This song has a verse about a guy who tied balloons to a lawn chair until he floated away. The balloons pop and he comes back to the ground. It's a tribute to him. His name is Larry. One of the simpler Pinback songs I've ever heard. Then, it gets all hard in the last minute or so. It's kinda cool.

6. Subbing For Eden - Spoken verse. Has a line "Folder reference cache/zeroes, ones and tildes." Pinback uses words in songs that Bad Religion couldn't even use. Kinda short.

7. Devil You Know - This has a cool rolling guitar line. Riffs. The verse has that in the round thing that Pinback do where they sing syncopated verses. It's really cool, but I don't know how these dudes can do that and still play at the same time. That's really hard to do. The first verse, I believe, is referring to leaves as the tears of trees. That's good writing. a piano line follows the verse really effectively on the chorus in this one.

8. Blue Harvest - Wasn't this the code name for Return of the Jedi while it was in production? You can totally hear the Police influence in this song. The guitar line evokes "Message in a Bottle" a lot. I'm not calling biters or anything. I'm just sayin'. Plus, if you are biting a little bit of The Police, you are paying homage.

9. Torch - This is probably my favorite song on the album. It's totally a sci-fi nerd song. Check this line "You're close to me/I push you away." Speaks volumes in the middle of a sci-fi nerd song. I think there might be something else going on in this song under the surface.

10. Bouquet - The keyboard intro on this song made me think that my computer was scanning me and importing me into a world run by an entity called CPU and I would have to fight other programs for users in the real world and perhaps fight Sark and play electric jai-alai and light cycles...Oh shit. I thought I was in TRON again. My bad. Pinback is Nautical. That's all I'm going to say.

11. Off By 50 - What's up King Crimson? Cool guitar line at the beginning. "Mindless Hateful/There's no such thing as a free lunch/No such thing at all." Syllabically, this line is delivered brilliantly. These guys are good. Everyone should buy this album. I really care for it.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Popcorn will kill you. I knew it.

Official Laugh At The World Day Is Today

Because of a three day weekend and a brain damaging Sunday bout of day drinking, today is official laugh at the world day. Yes, I just invented it.

First, Friday night? I don't remember what I did. Oh, wait. It was beer Friday at work and then I showed up on my bike drunk at my team's soccer game that I took the night off from to actually do something, but it just turned into a Plan B night. Plans have been very difficult to make as of late, however, there has been an increase of spontaneity and mostly pleasant surprises.

Saturday? Pappy came over and watched me play Guitar Hero until he got bored (2 songs). Pappy does not like video games, so we drank vodka and tequila drinks while we waited for a couple of friends. A trainwreck developed while we discussed how much of a pussy Ozzy Osbourne was and how we were dumbfounded that anyone thought that he was a satan worshipper and instead it was because of his album covers. Then, we decided the same thing happened to Maiden, but they rocked a little harder and never recorded a song called "Mama, I'm Coming Home."

Woke up Sunday morning to find that a piece of my dash had been forcefully dislodged from my car. Drunk strength can be compared to adrenaline. How come you hear stories about women lifting cars off their kids in emergency situations, but never a drunk picking up a houseboat to get a horseshoe? That's a really good question I could sit on for like an hour. Sunday afternoon was a pretty intense situation of day drinking. A lot of it will remain untalked about. A lot of blurred faces like on Cheaters or cops due to incriminating actions. We drank dollar beers out of styrofoam cups, saw a Bay Bridge half-dollar from 1936, met Dennis and his wife, met Gabe and Devon, I got invited to a fight club this weekend in Oakland, lost my sunglasses, and managed to find transport to a friend's house to have a barbeque with her mom and sister while we were mostly drunk and some slept.

So, by Monday evening, my brain was suffering in like a manic way. You get all wasted for 48 hours and then your brain starts putting the pieces back together and none of them fit and you get all bummed because the euphoria can not be maintained of being wasted and not really thinking about all the stuff that you are doing wrong or at least not right in your life. This version was especially bad for some reason and still was lingering Monday morning. Nothing going to bed at 8:00 pm Monday night couldn't fix, though. Binge drinking is not what it used to be, but I still think that the press is unfair to it. It's not as bad as binge eating.

So, what am I saying? I know there are things going on right now that are not what they should be for a young, "marketable" (my old doctor called me that), 32 year old male like myself. I can do way better than putting up binge tabs every weekend because I don't want to put the effort into anything else productive outside of laundry and vaccuming. It just makes my head cloudy and prevents me from getting smarter and moving a step closer to world domination. Seriously, if you are reading this, I am like -(negative)685 beers away from running your life. If I quit drinking, I will eventually become the equivalent of a Bond villian or a superawesome ninja. You've been warned.

So, instead of sitting there thinking about how bad stuff is and taking it personal, I'm just laughing about it and it makes it feel so much better. Try it next time you walk by your couch and catch the corner of it between your big toe and index toe. Instead of yelling "Shit!" because it hurts hecka bad, just start laughing. Or, when someone comes up to you at work and asks you the stupidest fucking thing that you have heard that would sound cute coming out a five year old, but when it comes out of an adult you want to punch them in the fucking face, just laugh. You'll start to build a weird association between anger, pain and funny. Do it enough and it sticks. Yeah, it sucks to be the guy laughing at a funeral, but it's the price you pay. It's really a better alternative to feeling any type of pain, trust me. It's worth the price of everyone thinking that you are absolutely shithouse rat crazy.

The Real Air Guitar Champeen

Will Arnett is brilliant and should be the real US Air Guitar Champion. Cue the youtube to 5:32 if it's counting forward and 2:10 if you're counting backward and watch the magic happen.

This Will Get Taken Down (Feist 1-2-3-4 on Letterman last night)

This is like the Indie Rock We Are the World. Watch it quick before they take it down. Everyone Indie rock guy and gal seem to be singing backup on this.

Sweet Dreams are Not Made of These

First off, my iPod is totally gay for Cheap Trick and That1Guy on Shuffle. It's not so bad, I think both bands are awesome.

Second, went to bed at 8:30 PM again last night. That makes two nights in a row. It is what it is. Last night, however, I kept waking up and then had a weird dream within a dream experience where I woke up and it was 5:16 Am in the dream and I was just going to get up and get ready for work, but then realized that it was only 11:30 PM. It was super disorienting.

So, I wake up again at 1:00 AM with one of those jerk outs that happens in dreams sometimes and I try and remember what I was dreaming about and it was super weird. I was saving the world from an alien guy whose power was in a tube that resembled those Rain-blo gum tubes that we used to get as kids. So, after doing some ninja shit, I managed to get the tube and eat the gum and killed him. I distinctly remember that the last gumball thing had Nerds inside. So, then I woke up.

I fell back asleep and woke up at 4:00 AM in a cold sweat. I was dreaming that I woke up with Nicole Richie in bed and she was giving me shit about getting too drunk the night before and not being able to get it up and passing out on her. That one sucked.

I think these are three examples of why I sometimes become an Insomniac. My sub-conscious must just fucking hate me. Where are the dreams of a land of chocolate or jet packs and lightsabers or a house made of cake? Why don't I ever get good ones.

By the way, Black Eyed Peas suck Black Eyed Ass.

So This is What it's Like...

To lay on a bed of nails with a giant rock on your chest. I had to cancel a day drinking seminar that I was giving today because I'm in no shape. First, I've got this super deep leg bruise that is making it very difficult to get around and also to sleep. It sucks. I hate being tired. Second, I have no idea what's going on with the girl.

I'm a cool guy. I can go with the flow in most situations, however, there is some unprecedentation going on and I feel absolutely in the dark on everything on top of the fact that everything was so confusing anyway. I've seen glimpses of what must be the emotional equivalent of the visual representation of puppies and unicorns and I've seen other glimpses of candy being taken away from a baby. All I want in life at this point is simplicity and peace of mind. It seems that the only way to have those risk free, however, is to rid yourself of everything that you hold dear. Basically, if you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. This became apparent in a conversation I was having recently when I explained that when you are alone, being alone feels fine. When you have had a taste of what it feels like to not be alone, alone hurts again. Call it numbness or ignorance or simply shutting off some feelings, but it was working.

So, tidied up the apartment and made a grocery list and then realized the leg wasn't going to work and I was too tired and I was just supertense about the girl situation. It shouldn't be this tense and everything would be fine if she were just another girl, but we're not even technically dating and she is scared because she likes me...that's like hating a food because it's too good. Actually, isn't that how a lot of people feel about certain cakes and drugs. They're like "Oh, get that away from me. It's too good." Then, they eat it anyway in most situations.

She is not returning my calls after a bunch of texts last night and I'm just absolutely confused. A voicemail that said "Fuck you. I hate you. Don't call me" would be better than the current situation because when you don't know anything and your brain spins like mine does you start to get creative. I start asking myself things like "Did she realize she can't live with that small tuft of hair that I have on my lower back? Are my ears too big? Does she know about that calcium deposit on my skull from when I cracked it open? Is she going back to her secret French husband? Space monkeys? German transients? Clown gangs?" So, my move is to try and sleep it off so I'm not thinking about it. That's my healthy alternative to self-medicating, but then when I close my eyes I just think about her and I'm too tired to fight it and then can't sleep. So, I think the term right now is either bedogged or frazzled or just bummed.

Then, in the middle of this my stepdad drunk dials me and tells me that I should come out and visit him while my mom's at Michael Buble. A) I tell him that I really shouldn't be drinking when I feel like this. I've learned the hard way B) He just wants me to come out and fix his computer and C) Why the fuck is my mom going to Michael Buble? I thought he was a Target brand.

So, after splattering this crap into the InterSphere, I realize there are three possible outcomes to this. The first is that it finally built up to the point that the girl really doesn't want to pursue anything and doesn't want to communicate at all. That's fine. The second is that she is just having a freakout and does want to pursue something, but just can't deal with me right now. That's fine, but it's killing me. The third is, regardless of the previous two options I can cut bait and concentrate on work and laundry and getting stuff done because when my head is cloudy like this I can't do anything. Oh my god, am I pining? That is so weak. The third option is the nuclear bomb option and is definitely the one that I want to avoid and would be the hardest to do because she is in the top 5 awesome things that have happened to me in twenty years, but I just don't know what's going on? On top of that, she reads this blog and I just flipped all of my cards over for the world to see. It's like charades where instead of acting out the parts of the word like a mime, you just say what it is and your team has to guess or just repeat what you just said. It's the world's easiest version of charades, so shouldn't it make this a little easier. Fuck Me.

Ocho Cinco

This article, T-rex versus Beckham? Sorry, David, you're lunch states and I quote that "The smallest dinosaur could reach speeds of nearly 40 mph (64 kph) and even the lumbering Tyrannosaurus rex would have been able to outrun most modern-day sportsmen, according to research published on Wednesday."

That's fine, but notice that it says "most." This is because Ocho Cinco could beat the T-rex in a race. Why the fuck would the article compare it to Becks? He's not known for his speed. I mean if anything compare it to those two olympic busts from like 8 years ago. I can't even remember their names.

Beyond that, if Ocho Cinco was involved in Michael Vick's dog fighting ring, his dog would whip all the other dog's asses. In fact, if there was a T-rex there that had a dog, Ocho Cinco's dog would whip the T-rex's dog ass. It's hypothetical, but scientifically provable.

Just a Reminder

Ween is better than you. Way better.

Manstrual Cycle

I'm a firm believer in a male's manstrual cycle. The Urban Dictionary definition is close, but I think it goes much further than what Mr. Lewis Wandon submitted.

So, first let's look at the menstrual cycle. Wikipedia's definition gets a little too detailed, but I'll work with it. Basically, it is a set of physiological changes that occur in female human beings and great apes. Oh my god, I wish I hadn't read ahead like that. The follicular phase gets quite involved. So, maybe the manstrual cycle is making light of something that is a little bit more involved than it would seem on the surface or as it's referred to with its set of nicknames.

Okay, I'm way out of my element at this point. This is what I do know. A female's organs look like a cow's head. Please see Exhibit A. That's what I got out of Human Sexuality at Diablo Valley College, but the A only cost me $25. That's a local joke. If you watch the news, you'll get it.

Exhibit A

So, the manstrual cycle that I'm experiencing is similar to the first phase of the traditional menstrual cycle as experienced by women and ape women. It lasts about 2 to 7 days. It occurs about every 60 to 90 days. That's my personal cycle, but other males and ape men may differ. I get extremely irritable and almost want people to pick a fight with me even to the point of baiting them. I give shiteye to people. I get real quiet and introverted. I listen to sad emo music. I think a lot. I cramp up and retain water. I also develop adult acne in the form of breaking out.

Every couple to few months, I'll be in the bathroom getting ready for work and I'll look in the mirror and see a tiny blemish and I'll be like "Oh, fuck. Looks like it's my time of the year again." That's when my man-period starts.

Last night, I was totally on my guyrag. I was cranky and pissed off at someone over the phone because I wasn't getting what I wanted. It's crazy, though. I have no control over the way I'm feeling. I mean I'm not the chick crying in Bed, Bath and Beyond because her boyfriend can't remember her birthday or doesn't want the homo bedspread that she picked out, but I'll act out. I'll say things that I wish I didn't say that open up a can of worms that I can't recan, EVER.

So, I guess this is an apology to the world for the way I've been behaving and also a plea for patience at the same time. I don't want to demean you (the collective you), I don't want to stomp on your foot "accidentally" in a soccer game and then help you up and say "You all right, man?" when both of us know that I just stomped the fuck out of your foot because I'm getting a visit from Uncle Flow, and finally I just want to be good and feel good. Fuck this Charlie Brown bullshit. Whatever happened to Charlie Brown? Did he finally hang himself and leave some tragic love/suicide letter addressed to Lucy professing his unspoken love and also asking her to take care of his dog?

So, anyway, please be patient with me (the collective me) and if you see me on my period, just get in your car and leave me alone and we'll all be fine. It goes away.

FOTC - Business Time

Currently, this is making me laugh almost as much as the punch dancing scene in Hot Rod.

"Team building exercise '99"

Van Halen Reunion

And the new album cover is already done. I like the way they have modernized their 1984 philosophy. I'm assuming the album will be called 2008.

Douchefest '07

I found the funniest clip from The 2 Coreys. I was watching it last weekend and this was the part that made me lose it. It's so funny. Scripted or not scripted, who cares? Enjoy.

Corey Haim Cries Like a Little Girl

Posted Jul 23, 2007

Corey Haim breaks down in tears after learning from Corey Feldman that he's not being asked to do The Lost Boys sequel.

In Case You Were Wondering...

...this is how you play guitar like Joe Satriani.

Play Guitar Like Joe Satriani

It's that easy, dude. Now let's hear a little Satch Boogie outta ya. The live version.

That's not even his right gear. I guarantee you he's got an Ibanez Tube Screamer in his live rig. Everyone has the Tube Screamer except for me. Actually, my bad, he uses a Boss DS-1. Here's a link to his rig. Satriani's Rig.

I'm so outed by this.

Michael Cera Has More Funny Than You Do

Michael Cera, who played George Michael on Arrested Development (RIP) is eelarious. His dry delivery is unstoppable and after SuperBad he is going to blow up. Check out him and his buddy's web site where they post eelarity. And, god, I miss Arrested Development. Nothing since could even hold a candle to it.

Clark and Michael

Ms. New Booty

Here is a bitchslap of youtube goodness that a friend and I were passing back and forth over e-mail. I think we found it on digg.

When We Escape by Minus the Bear

Most of the people hitting this blog are coming from searches on Sisqo. You got me on that one. Apparently, the Thong song still kindles a flame in the soul of some people. Other people have been searching on Minus the Bear lyrics. So, I'm throwing a bone today and posting lyrics from an unreleased song from Planet of Ice. Here's where you preorder it. By the way, I'm a gaybird for doing this.

When We Escape

Someone's turning the lights down low
And the music up. Do you feel the beat?
I see you do by the way you move
I need to feel your body moving on me

You must be an illusion
Can I see through you?

Someone's pulling me out the house
Cars are parked up and down the street
Her dress is begging to come off
A quiet dark place is all we need.

You must be an illusion
Can I see through you?
You must be an illusion
You must be an illusion

When we escape
It's with a white lie
We're both alive
And now we lay this close
Catching measures of the pulse

You must be an illusion x like 25

Notice that the song title is actually in the lyrics. MTB is evolving. They are also superawesome. Buy the album. It's real good. Also, go to their shows. They are real good. Some would say amazing. I'm totally gay for Minus the Bear.

The Condition My Condition Is In

This guy fell asleep and had sex with a minor. He called his condition "sexsomnia." I need to hang out with this guy. I'll look him up on MegansList. He must have a personal ad on there or at least a Missed Connection.

I'd call bullshit on him, but I've totally done the same thing except it was with a consenting adult. I'm not gross.

Man cleared of sleepwalk sex with 15-year-old (The Daily Telegraph)

Finally, the Future is Here

Private jet packs, bitch.

I have a theory that the reason there is even a right wing of the population that has chosen Jesus over science is due to the disillusionment with the scientific community because of its failure to provide us with a jet pack by 2000. Well, now that we have personal jetpacks available, they can put down the Jesus juice and come back to us from all their abracadabra bullshit. Logic vs. magic. Come on people.

There are a some drawbacks to jetpacks, however. For now, the price of $155,000 is a slight hurdle and that's for the cheap one. Currently, there is only 30 seconds of hangtime on available jetpacks. That is not near enough time to jetpack to work. Lastly, the idea of strapping a tank of jet fuel or propane to one's back evokes the phrase "What could go wrong?" in bright neon letters in my head.

Other good news is that this is the first step towards getting me a fully functioning lightsaber. If we are tinkering with jet packs, someone is working on a lightsaber, or laser sword for N00bs, in their garage.

Basically, if I had a jetpack and a lightsaber, I would have no more excuses for not completing any goal I have ever set for myself. Wait, I need a jetpack, a lightsaber, a bear cub, and a subscription to Cat Fancy. That would do it.

Let's Make a Dealbreaker

Dealbreakers are mysterious and can happen as two people interact with each other in the early stages of building any type of relationship whether it be a new friendship, business associate, teammate, whatever. As the relationship building blocks lay a foundation, they become less of a problem, but there are still isolated instances where they occur late in a relationship and sometimes even too late. For instance, when you catch your husband in the bathroom with a jumbo tube of toothpaste, a strap-on, a penguin and the world's largest ketchup packet. If that happens to you, just grab a suitcase and leave immediately.

Now, let me clarify that a dissimilarity or disagreement on an issue, flavor, book, movie, musician, etc. just shows that the other individual has free thought and to roll over and agree just to avoid confrontation or because of a fear of dealbreaking is a weakness and unattractive. I have some really good relationships with some really good debaters and you would think that we hate each other, but I think we enjoy the way we challenge each other and there is definitely shared respect between us. On the other hand, I cannot even justify any type of conversation with the unintelligent. It pisses me off. Also, stay way from politics and god in any type of drinking establishment or drinking situation. Pro tip.

How can one expect someone to like ALL of the same things and agree on everything without the dispensing of some sort of paycheck or without being fucking Elvis? Everyone agreed with Elvis. So without further ado, here are some personal dealbreakers.

-Bad Hair
-Pot Smoker
-Butterfaiths (She's cute, but her faith)
-Non-Independent people
-Weak willed (Must fight back)
-Silver Dollar Nipples
-Wears overalls and baseball cap a lot
-Anything taller than me makes me feel like they should hold me
-Lack of wit or intelligence
-There's others, but I can't think of them

To be fair, here's my dealbreakers
-I watch Battlestar Galactica and spend my Saturday mornings drinking coffee and watching soccer
-I hate Jack Johnson
-I'm obesist
-I'm stubborn and opinionated
-Sometimes I need a tug on my choke chain or I will run with it
-I don't vacuum enough
-I have an unhealthy addiction to doing laundry (because I watch porn when I fold)
-I like some really horrible and inaccessible music
-I say some things without thinking about how they will affect the listener
-I play soccer a lot
-I don't like the movie Gladiator because of a lack of story and gay overtones (hoping that's not really significant)
-I've got a checkered past, however I'm currently running from it as much as possible

The whole idea behind this is that some stuff is ingrained and a part of a person's personality and also represents something much deeper. That is a lot different than a person's interests and opinions. Yeah, if I hung out with someone who thought Dick Cheney was awesome and Burt Reynolds wasn't, we might have a problem, but that's a pretty extreme example. So, you like Dave Matthews Band, James Blunt and A Date with Tad Hamilton. No problem. I like Gummo, Ween and Iron Maiden. It's called peanut butter and chocolate. Peanut butter and peanut butter just isn't as interesting.

Here We Go Again

Imagine it like this. You get fake like you know stuff about fine wines and good food. You manage to stay sober enough to get the girl home. You get her in your room, she disrobes. You put on Reanimator's Music To Slit Wrists By...And then fucking Eddie Van Halen goes to rehab. That means no reunion. No Diamond Dave. No soup for you. This is never going to happen, but what if it did?

If this works out great, but if it all falls apart again. That's fine, too. Why does Van Halen keep doing this to me?

Van Halen and Roth to Announce Tour Next Week (Yahoo! News)

Queen of Cats

In case you were wondering, Freddie Mercury loved cats.

Freddie Mercury and his Cats.

Don't Want to be a Hobo No More.

So, Myspace is officially done. Why? Hobos have fucking myspace pages. If you have an account go to the myspace page and look at the road pictures. I ain't a hobo, I just crush a lot.

Hobo Myspace page

Also, to learn other hobo stuff go here. Apparently, some people are really into hobos. There are a lot of hobo resources for hobo enthusiasts at that link.

Just a Quick Question

Why don't they do Circus of the Stars or Battle of the Network Stars anymore? I'm assuming because waitresses from Bennigans' and "dancers" are cheaper for reality shows, but wouldn't it be nice to see Emmanuel Lewis on a trapeze. Also, please note that in this link I am about to give you, if you look real closely, you will see that Abe Vigoda was in one of the first Circus of the Stars episodes. Yes, cat lady, this is one of those moments when I show my age. Also, please note, that I can't vouch for the quality of this product if you are ordering any of them, but I assume they are on VHS tapes.

70s TV Specials
Youtube results for Battle of the Network Stars
Youtube results for Circus of the Stars

Apparently,...

I'm the second biggest asshole in the world. I use netvibes to organize feeds and there is this Flickr widget that you can set the search to find pictures based on that criteria every time you open netvibes. I've set it to my name, Billie Piper, and now Muffin top. So, I felt kinda bad that I was searching on that, but couldn't help but click on one of the images and saw this person's Flickr account. It looks like they go to art & wine festivals and take pictures of people that are skinnily challenged or have gunts. The mean part of it is that they take pictures of their faces, too. Man, this makes me feel horrible.

I had been reading about this phenomenon called Public Shaming and is essentially what everyone does anyway when people watching, which is bag on people to make them feel better about themselves. Get on a soap box and tell me that you are evolved enough to not do it and you are fucking lying. You are doing it in your head and just not saying it out loud like I do. I straddle honesty and assholery on that one and really am trying to cool it a bit and have mercy on strangers who deserve every right that I have to a content, pleasing public outing without some person ruining it for them without them knowing. I know I'm obesist, though. I'm a total fucking obesist. It's horrible.

Anyway, that Flickr account is a great example of public shaming and this is probably the most famous one right now. It's the Malingering Flickr account. They actually shut it down for a bit. Also, she is actually a really good photographer. I have a problem with her love of the Dodgers, though.

The Randy Raft?!

This can't be serious. Summer Sex Positions. I think they are considered Summer because a bunch involve a pool. I suppose the Winter positions would utilize a menorah, Christmas tree and a ski pole somehow. The Sexy Sprinkler is Eelarious. And what about the fuckin' Randy Raft? The names are great, but the jury is out on the positions.

Oh my god. Every time I look at the Randy Raft, I burst out laughing. It looks like the dude has her wrapped around him like a gattling gun. Like he is going to start twisting his hips and shooting projectiles out of her mouth. So funny.

Oh and it's via The Bachelor Guy. I've never seen the site before today. I was just doing some sexual position research because I like to stay on top of my game. Sure.

Circus Sized Peanuts

First out, whoever found the blog by searching "and then we all bought yachts"; I have a soft spot in my heart for you. That's awesome.

So, last night I rode my bike down to get some tacos for dinner. The idea was to have a couple of beers and eat three tacos al pastor. I care for them mucho. I watched a rerun of Man U v. Watford from last year that they had on and ate my tacos. Man U spanked them 4 - 1. Soccer talk. Then, the guy who took over keeper for me for one of my teams so that I wasn't constantly turf burned and limping showed up. It's part of breaking my soccer cycle. We talked about the game that I have tonight and two beers turned into four. Then, one of the bartenders was talking to me about how he was going to Vegas this weekend for his bachelor party. He was sure that he was lucky because he had just been let go on a 75 in a 55 by a CHP. I told him he was let off because it's the second of the month and ticket quotas aren't kicking yet. He got a little irritated with me, so instead of a tip I gave him a buck and a lottery ticket. I was like "Prove it, dude." He scratched his winning number that he had to match to win as I watched intently over his shoulder. That grey crap was shooshed away with a dime in time to reveal ol' lucky number thirteen. I fucking lost it and started cracking up. Then, to recover, I told him that he was just bleeding out all his bad luck before he went. Went home and got ready for bed before it got dark...like I'm 8 years old.

Got to bed later than I would've liked, but got lazy and rolled into work an hour late today so that kind of made up for it. As it turns out, today is work picnic day. It's a three ring circus of awesome people watching.

I work in a pretty blue collar work place. At least, most of the people have their names on their shirts. When I first started, I had to prove myself or I was going to get shivved. At the first work Christmas party I was nearly killed next to the Sheraton pool. This big dude fuckin' came at me and started talking all this shit about all the time he had done in prison and got up in my shit for some reason. I'm blaming handsome and a shit eating grin. To be honest, if I was drinking, I may have been baiting, but I may have been innocent on this one. So, anyway, my female boss jumped between us and kept us separated for the night. If I had a male boss, someone would've went in the pool and I probably would have lost my job and maybe a fuckin' tooth.

For the next two years, I worked to bridge the gap between myself and some of the people that I worked with. They thought that since I wore a button up shirt to work and had an office upstairs that I was a rich asshole. I proved to them that I was Palo Alto poor and not that much different than them after about four years. It's quite an accomplishment, now that I look back on it.

Anyway, the picnic is today and features catering provided by the Grill Sergeant (sounds like something from The Simpsons) and a cover band. Last year, I got drunk and sat in for Little Wing and some other song. Jack-Fucking-Ass. Pulled it off, though. I just need a key signature and I can fake my way through anything. There is also a horseshoe tournament, a hat contest sometimes, and a giveaway item. My kitchen is composed of work logo emblazened glassware because of these giveaways. SPOILER ALERT: This year's giveaway is a beach mat. I'm really going to need to find a girl to give these beachmats, visors and canvas bags that I get at some of the events that I go to. The girl in charge of it always asks me what I think we should get because I used to deal in the tradeshow tchotke circuit. This year I suggested a rape whistle or flask. She wasn't a huge fan of either of those.

So, where was I. Oh, I was sandbagging the reader because the whole reason I am writing this is because there is a fucking cake walk at the picnic. And, it is walked to the live band. If you have never seen adults cakewalking to a live band, you have either never hallucinated on some good shit or have never lived. The first time I saw it, I could not move. I was absolutely frozen like a lean cuisine in the cat lady's groceries in front of me in line at Safeway. It's been five years and I'm getting used to it now. Or, at least I'm able to move when I watch it, but every year I can feel the energy in the air leading up to the event. Fuck the food, fuck the beer and fuck the beachmat. I'm at the picnic to see the Cakewalk...and to figure out their beer regulation method and break it.

That's the other thing I like about the picnic. Being the resident Chico Alumnus, I am consulted on all things to do with kegs. These topics include tapping them in a fashion to limit foam, pouring them in a fashion to limit foam and exactly how many red cups can be filled from one keg. I then put the number of cups to a keg in a spreadsheet and ran it against the number of expected employees and have seriously come within four cups of perfect for a couple of years. I have since passed the formula on and am no longer involved with the kegs. I've moved onto beer consumption regulation cracking.

The idea is that each employee is limited to a maximum of two beers each. That way we can have booze at the event and no one gets all shithoused and wrecks their car on the way home. We'd be responsible and have to cancel the booze at the picnic. Nobody wants that to happen, so we create methods to monitor what everyone has had to drink. The first year that I was here they did tickets. The work around was to find non-drinkers and get their tickets. That was a 10 (+8) beer day and absolutely no challenge.

So, the next year, maybe allegedly because of my gross abuse of their system, they brought in the stamp system. One stamp per beer. People with two stamps cannot get any more beer. Whatevs, dude. I went to the soda bin and put my hand in the water and ice and rubbed my stamp off. That was a 12 beer day (+10). I may have been self-medicating at that one.

Since then, I've figured out that if I just pour and hang around my old boss we'll just get wasted at the picnic. Last year, he took me on a quick tour of benchmarks around my work. That sounds like Dudley in the kiddie pool with the dude from WKRP. Gross. So, I guess the best method to crack the beer regulation system is just diplomacy and charm.

This year, I'm retiring from fucking with the system because I have a soccer game tonight and I'm a lot better not hungover and not under the influence. I will drink about a hundred Diet Cokes, though, and if I'm lucky, eat a fucking cake.

Oh My God This Is Fun

Let Them Sing It For You.

Text to speech program using pop songs. You can make it say "Give Me Back Mah Bucket" or "I'm Not Touching You" or whatever you want it to say.

My Office

Ozzfest Jauge Simpsonized

This conversation really just happened. I was working between three spreadsheets. It's like juggling with copy and paste and concatenation formulas and is kinda awesome. That data is then dropped into a script and magic happens. It's pretty easy, but you can't be distracted while you do it or you should just start all ever again. So, Office Dwight walks into my office and and I remove my iPod because I'm assuming he is having a problem. People only talk to me when they need help. That's one of my functions and callings in life. I'm a helper, if you are helpable. If you're helpless, I'm out. We'll start at the point that I press pause on my iPod and remove my headphones. By the way, I'm listening to The Fire Theft.

Me: "What's up?"

Office Dwight: "Hey. Have you ever seen Charlie's Angels? You know the new ones?"

Me: "No. Why?"

OD: "Damn." pumps fist downward

Me: "That it? Everything else is cool?"

OD: "You know, I went across the street yesterday and checked out their laptops. I tried to play a CD and the laptop ran out of batteries."

Me: "Yeah, you told me that yesterday. If you plug in a power supply, that shouldn't happen or you can just make sure that it's ch.."

OD: "The help desk showed me that there's a pinhole that if you push it, you can get the CD out when the power is off"

Me: "Yep. You sure can. Seriously, do you need help with anything?"

OD: "Oh no, there was just something really funny in Charlie's Angels that I wanted to talk to you about."

Me: "Dude, maybe a little later, I gotta get some stuff done."


Cranky. Don't need this shit. This guy is like ten years older than me and finds me as some kind of funny aficianado. He also references Beavis and Butthead and Monty Python a lot. Does he not know that the funny is all just a small part of brooding sub-genius? I'm an incredible brooder when I'm not being funny. It's what I do. I help. I brood. I make funny. It reminds me of back in the day and dealing with drunks in the bar. I like people. It's just that I only like attractive, witty and intelligent people. Is that bad?

So...

Last Friday I was hitting nothing but home runs and throwing nothing but no hitters at work. It kinda carried over into the weekend and I spent hours knocking on wood hoping that a gray cloud would not form above my head and another boot would not drop. It was a dumb move. A smarter move would have been to find an umbrella or to go limp like a drunk in a car accident. They never seem to get injured. That might explain why astronauts do it. The drinking, not the going limp part. Not even Burt Reynolds drives something as badass as an astronaut so maybe they know something that we don't. Back to me. To sum it up, your instinct is smarter than your gut. Buh-Lee-Dat!

So cloud formed and boot dropped, whatevs. I really did know it was coming and it's all part of the process and some things are just out of your control and they just get worse the more you try and control them, so you just gotta sit and watch and keep your nose clean and hope for the best. It's just like the eighth inning of a Giant's game. It's hard to watch, but occasionally(sometimes) the good guys win or things work out. Life can be really strange.

The bad news is that I started smoking for twelve hours again. Why? Because I'm a big fuckin' baby. Then, after smoking I beat up on myself for about an ever. Nobody can kick my ass verbally (not out loud, innervoice) like I can. I know all the weakspots like R2-D2 knew about the Death Star. Plus, you pick your battles. A few smokes is nothing compared to what I'm capable of when it comes to acting out. I'm trying to avoid that to the severe disappointment of the "Jauge Show" fans. There are some people who just really love the asshole in me. I don't get it. Some would call them enablers. On the other hand, everytime my family sees it, they want to take turns strangling me. It's really a waste. I will admit, however, that it can be entertaining to third parties, but I will not do the monkey dance for anyone...there are a few exceptions.

After work, I rode my bike home and had a nice tall glass of ice water and not a beer. I then laid down on the couch and processed everything and filed it away neatly. Skipped beer league softball because I thought better of drinking more beers than innings played and made myself dinner. Quit smoking again and watched the Giants game. It was a nice relaxing night. The smartest moves of the night and my own personal highlight reel consists of making dinner rather than going out for a couple of beers on a Wednesday and not picking up the phone when my mom called right when I was about to go to bed. I'm getting smarter. Watch your ass.

Only problems are that I keep waking up at 5:00 AM and then toss and turn until about 5:45. I get to work real fuckin' early right now. I do more before 9:00 AM than the Army does all day and they do more before 9:00 AM than most people do all day. So, I'm doing a lot before 9:00 AM when compared to the Army and most people. Also, I'm trying to pull off Nike Dunks with Kenneth Cole slacks and a polo shirt. I'm fuckin' high, but if I can pull this off I might be trying my white loafers with jeans pretty soon. It's like lying in that if you use the right tone and accents, no one will ever know that you are full of shit. I think my high school girlfriend probably still thinks that Titanic was a true story because of that. So, if you have clown shoes and Cavaricci's on, just carry yourself well and no one will bat an eyelash.

Who's Your Daddy? Issues

My dad's birthday is next week and it dredges up shit every year because I usually go visit him. He's in Elk Grove which is about 20 miles North of nowhere. Recently, it's been coming up in conversation with a friend who is going through a divorce and is concerned about the effect it's going to have on her kids and for me it doesn't need to get in the way of anything anymore.

The last big advancement in dealing with it occurred a couple of years ago and involved accepting the situation as it was and not trying to force it into the typical archetypes that you see on TV sitcoms. It's a little more like Star Wars, which is kinda dramatic, but awesome. And it was'nt very therapy driven. It was basically, just saying to myself that I wasn't going to hate anymore. Hate is a waste of effort...in most cases. Dick Cheney and Loni Anderson still might be hateable.

It is what it is. I'm never going to have a relationship where I can go to him with a personal problem or for money or advice. There will never be the "Dad, I got my girlfriend pregnant what should we do?" talk between us. We'll just stick to the weather, the kids (my brothers) and sports. Occasionally, we talk about alpacas now, but we really don't have a lot in common besides good hair and alpha maleness. An ex on a couple of occasions told me that she had had dreams about my dad where he was holding her in his arms like when a fireman carries someone out of a fire. That's super duper duper weird. Oh, and the closest we ever got to a personal conversation was when we were moving some stuff and he was...holy crap. I just deleted a line because it was too incriminating. Basically, in the conversation he used the word "pussy probation." When your dad says that, it's like watching Porky's with your grandma. It feels kinda gross.

The least I think we owe each other, however, is forgiveness. He was too young for what happened and doesn't need to feel guilty about it anymore (if he does). Shit happens. People change. It's done. I'm fucking over 30 years old and really don't need to be thinking about this shit anymore. He had two kids when he was 19 and left. At 19, I couldn't raise a plant, let alone a couple of kids. I think the only thing really hanging up the whole process is just to talk to each other, but you can tell that we are both deathly afraid of talking about it. Also, funny thing, we will not get wasted with each other. We've never once been drunk at the same time. Contrastingly, I've been housed with my stepdad quite a few times. Actually, fucking tore up with my stepdad.

I'll walk up to a stranger in a public place and make fun of their shoes and basically tell them to fuckoff, but I can't sit down with my dad and say "Hey man. I just want you to know that you had an immensely negative effect on me for a really long time, but I understand and it's all good." Even the fact that we have virtually nothing in common shouldn't get in the way of just kickin' it. I've felt more comfortable in job interviews than in his presence. It's really crazy.

The good news is that I'm not mad anymore. I've let it go and I think he has, too. I guess we just need to tell each other eventually. It's still scary, but it seems attainable.

So, the severely personal douchefest was caused by this article below. I thought it was really good. And my smattering of soppy crap has just felt like a nice cleansing shower. 90% of therapy is just getting it out there. Total strangers just happen to be my sounding board. I just saved $80 by throwing it out here.

David Duchovny: My Defining Moment

Lastly, I'm smitten. It's so hard to act all hot when you are smitten. I wonder if this ever happened to Fonzy or Michael Madsen.

Tongue Tied

A friend sent this youtube link to me and it froze me like a deer in the headlights. I had IMd it to a few friends, but I think it's my job to share this with everyone. It's by the Skatt Bros. and is called "Life at the Outpost."

The good news is that I finally found something that was more unintenional gay than the volleyball scene in Top Gun. At least I don't think the video is trying to be gay. It's just real confusing. Especially when the girl shows up and rides one of the dudes like a horse.

IT Happens

First, the person who found my blog by searching "Taco Penis" is my new hero. I'm also considering "Taco Penis" as a candidate for the next band that I put together, however, "The Gaylords" is still a front runner and the logo is already done for them. I would need to unburn a significant bridge to put that band back together, though. Also, I'd have to purchase the piano from Big.

Second, my chest is on fire. I laid by the pool with no sun screen and had a conversation yesterday and had no idea that I was setting my chest on fire. I took my shirt off last night to go to bed and was in shock at what I was looking at in the mirror. It wasn't just the Handsome shocking me, but also the burn that I had incurred from our sun god, Ra.

Third, The last 72 hours have flipped everything upside down on a personal level. Up is down, right is left, nothing makes sense, but it's all in a good way. It's not that crazy, though. Wheel of Fortune and Fall Out Boy still suck. There is a whole section of my brain that had kind of been mothballed that is all of a sudden active and it's a little uncomfortable and scary as a series of buttons are being pushed and things long since dead are roaring back to life. It's not like clown scary, instead it is like getting a new job or moving to a new place scary. You are super happy to be in the situation you are, but are scared to enjoy it in the event that someone takes it from you or you fuck it up. So, to avoid disappointment or failure, you can just not even take the risk of grabbing it and enjoying it or you can expose your neck and let the cards fall where they may. For once in a longtime, I think I'm going to expose the neck and let the cards fall. It's life's version of 52 Pickup. Basically, I haven't stopped thinking about a person since I met her on Friday. It's great until you put face wash in your hair instead of shampoo. I'm not really acclimated to the whole situation yet, but I sure am acting like an eighth grade girl staring at a boy bander on the back of a CD. It's recockulous. I need to go cruelly make fun of someone in the office to get my negative edge back, but instead, just this once, I'll just sit here and smile dimly while I work this morning. I can't believe I just wrote that previous paragraph and pushed it down the tubes we call the InterWeb, but it's all part of the deal.

National Lampoon's NASA

Fuck It! I want to be an astronaut. Drunk astronauts? That is so rad. That really takes drunk driving to the next level. I don't condone it, but WTF?!?!?!?!?! Astronauts are turning into the fat guys at the party (or International Space Station?) singing Wooly Booly while playing air guitar in a tropical shirt with a lampshade on their fuckin' heads. I'm predicting that sex tapes are the next boot to drop. Who'd a thunk that Lindsey Lohan was on her way to being an astronaut? How do you cut lines of cocaine in space? I think we're about to find out a lot more stuff about astronauting and astronaut enthusiasts.

Ozzfest 07 in one pic

Somehow, Pappy and I managed to turn Ozzfest into a cross between a log ride and the running of the bulls in Pamplona. Thank you to Amy for the pic. The combined age of the jackasses on the ground is about 70 years old.

Ozzfest 07

First of all, I was way too old to be there and had no business having that much fun on a weekday, but here's what went down.

I decided I was responsible enough to drive to the show and in a worst case scenario we could cab it back to my place and my counterpart could still get home in her car if she left it at my apartment. I'm using counterpart in every sense of the word here, too. So, of course, I think she is awesome. I pack an Elvis blanket, some waters, an Arsenal warm up top and some spray on sunscreen. We head to show at 11:00 AM and pick up a twelver of wifebeater light and head to $20 worth of parking. We are four deep by the time we get to the gate to pick up our ticket from Pappy. It might barely be Noon.

The next part of the story may break some rules, but let it be said that we are in the gate with 6 beers in my backpack. That's like $48 worth of beer inside. We meet our group and proceed to the second stage. All the beer is gone by 1:00 PM. Drunk dialing and texting is in full effect as i try and talk a Googler into grabbing a Google bike and coming over for the show. She's not biting at all.

We work our way to the bar and start cocktailing on some Cape Codders for a bit while I talk to strangers. I'm mostly making fun of their emo without them knowing for my own amusement.

We walk around and people watch for a little bit and I put a guy named Big Dave (6' 5") on my shoulders for a picture in fron of the I (heart) vagina booth. There is a pic from that somewhere.

We keep returning to the second stage to check out some of the bands, but most are disappointing or I'm just way too old. Mondo Generator was pretty tight. I remember that.

So, hours are slipping by and we decide to go mark our space on the lawn so we can catch Lordi. They are kind of like Gwar. Very theatrical. I'm fading at this point, which i think is like 6:00 PM. My counterpart and I are starting to get cranky and tired. We're too old for this enduro-drinking. I head up to grab another beer for us and bump into these two girls who I think start trying to clown on me while I wait for an outhouse. I clown back a bit and then head back to the lawn with beers.

My counterpart and I start throwing beer on each other and arguing pretty soon, so she heads for the box with the rest of our group and I sit it out for a while and sober up on the lawn. Three or four songs into Ozzy we are texting each other and ready to bounce. I tell her I will meet her at the car.

As I walk out the two clowning girls are right next to me and tell me to meet them at a bar three blocks from my house. Who could say no to that? I drop off my car and counterpart at home and head to the bar. They are there. They are pleasant and they were born in 1985. I start having reservations and try to avoid any shenanigans. I manage to get home alone which actually became a goal.

It's 1:30 AM and I'm at my door when these two Mexican dudes walk up to me. I'm pretty sure I'm about to get mugged by the dudes who stole my shorts and everything is about to make sense when, through broken Spanish, I realize they just need me to call them a cab because they can't speak English well enough to and they have no idea where they are.

So, I grab a cab number and call it on their cell phone as my phone rings. I answer my phone while I'm waiting for the dispatcher to pickup and am now in two conversations...wait make that three and one is partially in Spanish. On my phone I have one of the girls I was hanging out with. Her friend and her got into an argument and she bailed with no ride and was now down the street from my house crying. On the dudes' phone I've got the cab company and I get them a cab and hand them back their phone turning down a $20 bill they offer me for my help. It feels nice enough to do something nice for my friends from south of the border. I go back to my phone and get the dirt on what's going on with the girl and realize that she is probably going to have to stay at my house that night. Chivalry is not dead, but it misplaced severely sometimes.

Twenty-two year old drama all night chased with a hangover Friday morning means another day of vacation from work. Turns out she lives with her parents and has had a live-in boyfriend for six and a half years. In my head I'm just thinking "What the Fuck!?!?!?!?" I take her home the next day and grab a Squishee from the Kwik-E-Mart in Mountain View which quells the hangover nicely.

On my way home, I start noticing that this hangover is feeling a little severe and unique and chalk it up to enduro-boozing. By Saturday, I'm sweating through my clothes and then getting the chills with a gnarly cough and throat scratch. By Sunday, I've nested onto my couch and my apartment is looking like an opium den. I seriously feel like my weekend is going to turn into some Kafka-esque tragedy of self-discovery as I start to spin some type of cocoon made of Kleenex.

As all of this is happening, I look underneath my desk and see the girl's ID. I'm giving up at this point and just accepting that Ozzfest is never going to end for me. I'm sitting here finally back at work, wanting nothing more than to go home and sleep and thinking that there is going to be a parking ticket in the mail or something from Shoreline, so that my Ozzfest experience can keep carrying on.

As an added bonus to the story, my drunk ATM pulls would rival drunk ATM pulls seen in Vegas. I'm getting way to old for this. WAY TOO OLD.

You Are Here

Wow, I just moved a meeting with ten people tomorrow so that I could go to Ozzfest. Is that growing up? Here are the terms that people are searching on and getting to my blog. It's just disturbing, but really funny.

1. Penis Sours - That is awesome. I wonder what it is in reference to.

2. Mark Morford - He's brilliant.

3. Black Sexual Intercourse - It really takes away from the loving part when it's all technical like that.

4. Dynamo from Trader Joe's - I interned where they made it and love it. It's really RW Knudsen, yo.

5. Herpes on Penis - Poor fucker who had to search on that. Hope you like riding on horses like in the Valtrex commercials.

6. Billy Ocean Romancing the Stone - Obviously, someone looking for the soundtrack.

7. California Senate Bill 1613 - This is gonna be a big deal in a year

Other terms that have been used recently: Optimus Prime Cos play, lame pants, unicorndog, iPod cannot do, best condoms, sexual intercourse, neal schon divorce, couldn't stop myself from lookin' hard.

That last one is awesome. So that's my demographic. Neal Schon, Intercourse, and Optimus Prime cos play.

Planet of Ice

So, I managed to get the new Minus the Bear album, Planet of Ice, early. I don't feel guilty for liberating it because I gave them $20 at their merch booth and it was kind of like pre-ordering the album. Plus, I plan on seeing them this tour, so they'll get their money for their work. I was just getting antsy and wanted to hear it NOW.

1. Burying Luck - There area a lot of guitar toys on this song. There is a pitch bend on like every chord in this song on one of the guitars. This song is hooky with a great scream on the chorus. With lyrics like "The man in the hole/has carried away/the moonlight/cupped in his hands/A time on the water/he's a patient man/as his careful stepping shoes." So, it's about a man in a hole.

2. Ice Monster - They played this on their last tour. It's a cool song with an awesome maraca-clapping breakdown. Spontaneous breakdance-offs could occur at shows. You've been warned.

3. Knights - This song could easily have been on Menos El Oso. Big fan of this as it is quintessential MTB. A lyric sample: "A piece of you for a piece of me/It's hardcoded." It's gotta be about exchanging DNA and breaking even.

4. White Mystery - Bass line is tight and smooth and in the pocket. They use the term "bottle of goodtime" in one of the verses. I like that term. This song comes off like one of their hopeless and desperate love songs about making out on a beach or in a pool or in a laundry room at a Christmas party. They haven't written the latter situation yet, but I'm sure it's in the queue. They have a gift for capturing those moments in their songs. Those moments of lusting for the caterer at a wedding or any of those moments that you feel totally uncomfortable relating to anyone.

5. Dr. L'Ling - SPOILER ALERT: This is a part one in a two part series. This one has been on the InterWeb tubes for a bit. The song rocks. It's got that guitar note bend from "Her Eyes Are a Blue Million Miles" by Captain Beefheart. The song's use of Yeah would make Rob Zombie proud. The song uses the fit of clothing as a metaphor for quality of love. That's pretty good. It also has a lyric about a fear of "Becoming a casual businessman on matters of the heart." This song is chock full of notes. It's going to look like Rush on the Show of Hands tour when they play these songs live.

6. Part 2 - Minus the Bear is brilliant for calling this song Part 2. It resolves the issues brought up in Dr. L'Ling. This song is half of the reason that the InterWebs are saying that this album sounds like Dark Side of the Moon. The beginning of this song totally does. It may be played on the David Gilmour Signature Model Stratocaster. It's about finding that right fit in Tokyo and there is a verse that sounds like sake was just forced into the line, but it's still awesome.

7. Throwin' Shapes - The guitar tone totally reminds me of 311, but that's just a clean Paul Reed Smith, I think. This is another song about the water, swimming, shorelines, boats. These are subjects that Minus the Bear writes about. They love water. Yeah is used effectively again. Even Yeah-heah.

8. When We Escape - So many notes in this song and it is one of the rare Minus the Bear songs that actually has the song title in the lyrics. The arrangement is really cool and dynamic. It's got that Pixies quiet-loud formula to it. Why do all of their songs evoke feelings of longing for something. That might just be me. I might be longing.

9. Double Vision Quest - Best named song on the album. Vision Quest was a tight movie. This song is a bad jam. Again, a lot of notes. If there are any more notes and tapping added to these songs they are going to need to hire Stanley Jordan. That's an inside joke for editors of guitar magazines and new age radio programmers. He's a guy who finger taps pretty much exclusively. He even has a damper on his nut so he can just tap like crazy. Anyway, this song is super cool and the drums just push it all the way through until it picks up into a nutty guitar line. This is pretty typical Minus the Bear, like Knights.

10. Lotus - This is the other half of the reason that the album is being compared to Dark Side of the Moon. It may be the best song on the album. It is really good writing on all accounts. The chord changes are very Pink Floyd in how they drive the accents in the melody. That's just my opinion, though. Three minutes in it turns into a straight up three note per string hammer-on exercise that I think I did when I was in high school. Then, it gets all slow and jammy for a while with some space sounds and gets super Pink Floyd. If you close your eyes you will see walking hammers.

Cool album, though. Minus the Bear fans will not be disappointed. These guys are real good. That's for sure. I'll make sure that I pick up a copy when it comes out so they don't have to dream about gettin' paid and get paid in full.

You can pre-order it here or here.

Hell's Yes

This isn't good for anonymity, but finally made the customer action shot section at ThinkGeek.

I Can't Keep This To Myself

This has got to be shared. Take a half hour today and just click through this and be amazed.

Just Click It. Trust Me.

IHOPpllebee's

This is a friggin' culinary power couple right here.

IHOP to acquire Applebee's for $1.9 BIL @ Yahoo! News

Also, how is it possible that a "neighborhood grill & bar" restaurant like Applebee's could be sold for that much money. Something tells me that there was nothing neighborhoodie about that oasis of epicurean delight.

Sorry. My Bad. I didn't see this power couple.

Romijn, O'Connel' wed in Los Angeles @ Yahoo! News

Because the fat kid from Stand By Me and star of My Secret Identity can marry a hot chick like Rebecca Romijn-Stamos-O'Connell, I am deeming him the Scott Baio of this decade. It makes no sense, but good for him. He should seriously be changing his last name to O'connell-Romijn-Stamos due to the imbalance of power in the relationship.

ChupaCabron

Click the pic to go to the source

First off, an apology for lack of graphical content. I just recently got a new laptop delivered and I am breaking an ass groove into it. Photoshop should be installed tonight or tomorrow and I can start making pictures again. Still need to replace my digi, though. It's a low priority compared to everything else. I only use it for dick-pic responses to Craigslist ads anyway.

So, I've time traveled slightly today and I am remaining an hour ahead of the present...mentally. Still seems far fetched, but this is how it works. I woke up at 5:00 this morning instead of 6:00 because I was having nightmares about exes and someone draining my mutual find via identity theft because I have left my personal effects strewn from one drunken debauchacle to another. I suppose that it is guilt manifesting itself in my subconscious. Whatevs.

So, I couldn't go back to sleep and just got ready for work and went and sat in a Starbucks reading "Vineland" by Thomas Pynchon until it was time to go to work. "Vineland" was in my bag that was stolen recently and I had to reorder it to finish the last 50 pages. It's really good and easier than Gravity's Rainbow, but still has a sliding narrative and suspect timelines, however, much easier than Steve Erickson when it comes to timelines.

Whoa, way off topic. Hold on...So, I got to work and made coffee for the floor and started working at 7:00. The time travel happened an hour ago when it felt like 10:30 and it was only 9:30. It just happened again because it felt like it was 11:30, but it's only 10:25. This time travel is pretty much going to suck at the end of the day when it feels like I'm doing an extra hour on the day. I'd leave early like the champion that I am, but I have a work softball game. It's hardcore beerleague like I have never seen before.

So, the reason I needed to blog this morning was because I hadn't in a while and because there were some things that sucked that I recently saw.

First thing that sucked was the fucking All-Star Game. Watching the All-Star game is like sleeping with a fat girl. You gotta be real drunk to enjoy it and if you are lucky you won't be able to remember it. I'm blaming the All-Star game for my not being able to go back to sleep this morning. Yes, there was an in-the-park home run and Eric Byrnes' bulldog was pretty funny, but everything is wiped out by Joe Buck. Can this man be stopped, PLEASE! He probably talks to himself and adds drama to the situation when he walks up to a urinal and unzips his pants for the first time that day. (In Joe Buck voice) The last time he walked up to a urinal to pee was the day before, but this time it's different as he goes for the 128th piss in 30 days. This is what makes Joe Buck, brought to you by Ford and Doritos, going the bathroom exciting. Sorry for the dramatization and I think you need to read that out loud in his voice to even get it. What a fuckin' sukkadick. I can't stand him.

Then there's Singing Bee vs. Fox's version of Singing Bee. Both of these shows should be on Nickelodeon after Double Dare on a Wednesday at 3:00 PM in 1982. This is not/was not prime-time material, but since You Pick a Suitcase and I Betch Yer Kid is Smarter Than You are getting people to watch them, who could really give a fuck anymore. It's just getting sad. It makes Wheel of Fortune look like a chess tournament.

I managed to rubberneck the first two minutes of Singing Bee with host, Joey Fat One. The Fat One from N'Sync. He would introduce the song like he was introducing advancements of technology in the Industrial Revolution, but instead what came out was "this song was a hit for Bananarama in 1982 and went like this..." Then the band would play one line and the contestants would have to finish the next line. The catch was that it had to be perfect. Like they are fucking Jeopardy questions.

One last thing is that the opening riff of "32 Pennies" by Warrant will take over your life and mentally scar you. I will be sitting in my car and start humming this opening riff all the time. It never leaves me alone like the image of the weird Black Eyed Pea guy. I think he is supposed to be the Indian. I dare you to try and listen to that intro and shake it. It can't be done. It's like that movie in The Ring, but instead of dying you just have to relive the riff over and over again. I guess that would go under the pro tip category or it may be a dare.

Anyway, work is calling and I need to put some links up there. Much more later.

In Search Of...

Here are some of the recent searches that people are using to get to this blog. I love this shit:

-Sisqo
-Boris Vallejo (That's all those homoerotic centaur paintings)
-Sexual Intercourse (Occasionally, that is covered)
-Herpes on Penis (That's kinda random. I'm cool and have the test results to prove it)
-Llama Penis (Don't have one and have the test results to prove it)
-icanhaz (teetering on the edge of the shark jump, but still awesome)
-dan automator (he fucks nothing up and does no wrong)
-leadspringmail.info (spammer)
-tattoo jesus (have no idea how that happened
-Fantasia Centaurs (kinda random, but might be worth a google search)

Have safe and wonderful weekends.

I, LoBot

First off, fires are getting played out. Palo Alto is literally burning down and the Peninsula is on fire. It's getting hard to concentrate around here.

Next off, I was thinking that with the headset in cars law coming up in July '08 that maybe we could pass a law that says that if you are not in a car and are in public that you have to use your handset rather than publicly humiliating yourself by using your BlueToof headset. They are down to $30 retail for most phones and are not a sign of status anymore. So, please put them in your glovebox and step away from the car. You look like LoBot from Empire Strikes Back. You only found out his name if you read the credits or bought the action figure, but I assure you he is a bad ass...hold on...googling LoBot FanFiction. Yep. Lobot fanfiction. Holy crud. There is fanfiction for everything. Go ahead try and stump the Interweb with a fanfic search on 1-800-flowers. Actually, give me twenty minutes. I'm writing it right now. I'm also sketching out an outline for fanfiction devoted to the R2-D2 mailbox.

Last off, I've been not-dating someone for the sole fact that I shouldn't be dating anyone right now, but feel bad that I'm undateable because the other person (for some reason) thinks I'm a'ight. I, personally, see the situation as going nowhere and am subconsciously doing things to throw shots across the bow to protect the other person from the inevitable cold shouldering and under-the-breath commenting that will more than likely be the end result of the whole situation. I would love to stay friends with the other person involved, but that never really works out. Someone always takes it personal when it really isn't anyone's fault. Stuff just doesn't work out sometimes and you just aren't in as much control as you ever think you are. Nuts and Gum are never going to work out, no matter how much therapy you put the nuts through. Also, Paula Abdul and that cartoon cat eventually had a falling out, even though opposites do attract. Opposites never attract over the long term and really only amount to a one night stand for the conquest sex type person or maybe a few months until annoyances bubble up and manifest themselves as a fight of fish vs. chicken or cold vs. warm or fuck, mu shu chicken vs. chicken chow mein.

Anyway, I think it's near an end because the other morning I woke up and she had left for the first time ever. In addition, all of her clothes were gone. That's a first. Normally, Fridates last until at least Sunday evening. The kicker, though, is that I've been finding stuff around my house that she had returned without telling me. It's super weird. I keep finding stuff around. Maybe I should just clean more.

Regardless, I'm hoping for a soft nose-up crash landing with minor cuts and abrasions rather than an endo combined with a nard pack off of a homemade jump on a Huffy with mushroom grips that ends with someone running inside the house and crying to their mother. Wow, that was a flashback.

Eelarious Eadline

This headline is awesome. To assault someone with an energy drink because you are too embarrassed to buy condoms is definitely a cry for help.

"Clerk assaulted with can of Rock Star energy drink, robbers flee with condoms" from the San Jose Mercury.