Monday, August 28, 2006

JOKE HA

I made this up, so direct all hate and groaning at me. Or whoever is nearby.

Q: WHAT DO YOU CALL A SLUTTY OVERWEIGHT HOUSEWIFE?
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A. FLOOZY HOMEQUAKER

Also, []D [] []\/[] []D. Can you read it?

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Worst Buy

I used to shop at Best Buy, but no more. Here are a few tales of personal woe inflicted upon me by that den of crooked, incompetent assholes. I was inspired to write this by Mike over at WetWire.

1. I buy a stick of RAM to upgrade my laptop. I take it home, install it, and all of a sudden I start getting random blue screen crashes that just shut the thing down. I take it back to Best Buy and want to exchange it. Since I have both opened it and used it, they say no. I ask what else I can do. They say nothing.

2. I go to talk to a Geek Squad asshole about the effect this new RAM is having on my computer and he refuses to believe that the RAM is causing that problem, tells me I don't know what I'm talking about (I work on/fix computers for a living), and that there's nothing he can do. Also, a couple of pixels had died in the screen and I ask how much longer my laptop warranty is covered by them. He looks up the information (reluctantly) and says I've got about a year to go and asks if I want to give it to them to fix/replace. I haven't backed up everything yet, so I say I'll wait a while yet.

3. The VERY NEXT DAY, I press the power button on the same laptop and nothing comes on but the cooling fan. It's dead. Convenient that it dies the day after I tell them to eat a bag of shit. So I take it to the Geek Squad shitfuckers again. He happily greets me with an "I told you so" demeanor and says they'll have my machine back to me in 10 days or less. Fine. I have no choice, right?

Ten days come and go. I hear nothing. I call, they say they JUST received it at the repair place. Fine. How much longer? Oh probably another 5 days, but they don't know since they haven't diagnosed it yet. Fine. I am patient.

Ten more days go by, and nothing. I call and get no answers but get plenty of xfers to different departments, but have no concrete information. I call several more times over the next ten days and still get nowhere.

Thirty days have now gone by and I have NO information about the diagnosis, status of repair, or what the hell's going on. I keep calling but just get the runaround. Finally one of my chick friends was having a really shitty day and sympathized with my plight. She called them and pretended to be my wife. Hell hath no fury indeed....somehow, ten minutes later, she hung up the phone and told me I could go in tomorrow and pick out a new laptop of my choice, and would only have to pay anything it cost above and beyond the original purchase price of the original one.

But there's a catch. They make me buy another service plan, even though the original one still had a year left on it. I was happy with my last Sony VAIO laptop, so I picked up another one with impossibly good specs for the price (that's Sony's bullshit marketing for ya, but that's another rant). I end up paying about $400 total for it, but got it taken care of FINALLY. A MONTH later.

4. I buy a small LCD monitor at Best Buy with inputs for game consoles and a PC (S-video and VGA, basically). Pixels start burning out the same NIGHT I bought it, so I took it back the next day and just wanted to return it and save my money for a better model. They didn't want to take it back. They also didn't have but one person working the returns/customer service desk right around Xmas time. Genius.

They INSIST that I must have done something to damage the monitor. The current state of it is just impossible to accept without some kind of abuse from me. Bullshit. So they take it behind some flimsy wall and hook it up to their own "diagnostic tool" to figure out what I did to break it. COULD THEY BE ANY MORE INSULTING? After about 45 minutes (I'm not kidding) they come back out and with the most reluctance possible admit that it just went bad and it wasn't my fault. But they weren't gonna give me my money back. They wanted to give me store credit. FUCK NO. So I got noisy and pissed off and insistent and dragged down some manager from the ivory tower and finally I got my money back.

5. I get a BB gift card for Xmas that year and now I just HAVE to go there one more time to spend it and be done. I'm in the market for an external DVD+/-RW drive, so I get one for about $90 and finally am done with the place. They managed to slip me a price sheet for the Geek Squad, so now I have a reference point for my clients when they think I'm overcharging them for service.

6. I thought I was free and clear, but somewhere along the way someone ELSE got me a Best Buy gift card. I was having some power outage problems over the summer, so I blew it on a battery backup, which I was about to buy when the STORE lost power, making them unable to sell it to me, and then in about the rudest way possible told all the customers to get out of the store and don't bother coming back. No problem buddy. I eventually got the power supply, but I have to warn my friends and family right here and now:

DO NOT BUY ME BEST BUY GIFT CARDS
FOR ANY REASON

I eventually got a 19" LCD wonder monitor from Sony with DVI-D, SVGA, HDTV component inputs, S-Video, RCA inputs....the works. I love the thing. I get a little ghosting when gaming due to the response time of the LCD elements, but overall I'm happy with the $900 I spent on it at CIRCUIT CITY where they were totally helpful. So helpful in fact that I went back later that day and bought a 62" HDTV from them.

Best Buy can die in a fire.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Just How Much This DOESN'T Matter

Over the last few days, a few people have been giving the power and actual readership of my blog a LOT more credit than it deserves. Check it out:
Further proof that this is neither a classroom nor a courtroom, and no one cares what I say except the oversensitive. For them, go spend an afternoon with Maddox. And you think I'M an asshole...

And for the affected parties, please know that I have unceremoniously unsubscribed from your blogs so you can go write about whatever you like without fearing the sensationalized WRATH that apparently comes with getting mentioned on my page. Now I won't feel compelled to make any more suggestions that'll get taken the wrong way and blown entirely out of proportion.

I still find it hilarious that this petty post got escalated to the heights of a "public announcement" or a "flogging." Talk about overdramatizing...

PC vs. Mac: The Battle Over WoW Screenshots

There's a big dumb debate running rampant thru my inbox ever since Greg hit Reply All instead of just Reply over PC vs. Mac. It all started when I found a Web page for the 1998 Mac Gaming Championship and made a joke about how there really ARE no games on the Mac. Needless to say, all hell broke loose (seems to be a trend around here lately) and people are fighting tooth and nail about it.

Then I found this, which reiterated what I already thought. The short version is that in Windows (on a PC), to take an in-game screenshot, you hit the universally known Print Screen key, then either open the default saved image or paste the saved visual data into ANY common graphic editing program.

On the Mac, your machine may or may not have the required key, and if not, you have to fiddle with a bunch of settings, and even THEN you might have to download and install Adobe Acrobat just to do anything with the image.

Read the full details below....

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How To Take WoW Screenshots!

For Windows Users:

While in the game, press the Print Screen key on your keyboard. You should see a Screen Captured message. The screenshot will appear as a targa (TGA) file in the Screenshots folder, in your main World of Warcraft directory. You may need to get a special image viewing utility to open up or modify the TGA file such as IrfanView if you cannot do so normally. (NOT NECESSARY. JUST PASTE IT INTO MS PAINT, INCLUDED WITH EVERY COPY OF WINDOWS)

For Mac Users:

There are two methods for taking screenshots on the Mac:

Players can take a screenshot in-game using the keyboard key bound to the Print Screen functionality.

If you have a keyboard with an F13 key, press the key to take an in-game screenshot. Players without an F13 key on the keyboard can change the default Screen Shot key in the Key Bindings menu.
You should see a Screen Captured message. The screenshot will appear as a JPEG file in the Screenshots folder, in your main World of Warcraft folder. Additionally, Mac OS X includes functionality to take a desktop screenshot that will save onto the desktop. This built-in functionality can be used to take an in-game screenshot.

While in the game, press Command-Shift-3 on your keyboard. The screenshot will appear as an Acrobat Reader (PDF) file on the desktop. You may need to obtain Adobe Acrobat Reader to open up or modify the PDF file if you cannot do so normally.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

How to write a blog post.

Maria keeps yelling at me for yelling at her for the way she blogs, so here's an easy to follow how-to for those of you new to the blogosphere. First, the post in question (font reduced to show you what a chonky block it is, and since you're not going to read it anyway):

So I've been accused by certain MySpace, and real-life, buddies of writing blogs that are too lengthy (a-hem, Lord Boinky, I'm looking at you). Of course, it certainly wouldn't be the first time I've been called overly verbose or wordy. I do tend to ramble on at times and get off-track (in both speaking and writing :). Plus, the English teacher in me tends to obsess over supporting details, description, meticulously spell-checking/editing/proofreading everything (even though I have had a few glaring slip-ups lately......"man cocoa," etc......which was totally a typo, btw, King Boy :) Still, though, if we're going to analyze the entire "blog" genre of writing, are there really standards that dictate length? I'm a bit new to this, I admit; but, I have certainly seen quite a few amusing blog entries that span several pages. And if they're entertaining, well-written entries, who cares about length? I'd rather read a longer entry that details something interesting or is, at the very least, thought-provoking, than a paragraph about someone's monotonous work day, what they picked up at the supermarket, and what leftovers they dug out of the fridge for dinner. Seriously, I DON'T CARE, nor should I. What kind of self-important ego-maniac thinks their friends and loved ones care about the mundane details of their day? I actually read a non-MySpace blog of an acquaintance (who's NOT on here), that talked about the SOUP she ate for dinner. SOUP. It was only a few sentences, but really, if that's all you have to write about, why even bother? I mean, if she was going to go into the significance of the soup, like say, her dead grandmother gave her the family recipe, or how eating soup reminds her of cold winter days when she was a kid, and wasn't life so much easier back? Blah blah blah nostalgia, etc., I could maybe understand, but she didn't. She just talked about the "yummy" soup she heated up from the night before, and that was essentially it. No details, no significance, no anecdotes on soup, nothing. Maybe I'm being too judgemental (which I've also been accused of, perhaps accurately), but to quote Steve Martin in Trains, Planes and Automobiles, "...You know, when you're telling these little stories? Here's a good idea - have a POINT. It makes it SO much more interesting for the listener!" In fact, I've often used that quote with my college and high school students over the years, telling them they should ask themselves if they HAD a point after reading over their work. If they can't find it, methinks they better re-think their purpose, as well as their thesis statement (or if you're using the dumbed-down curriculum in the NYC public schools, your "BIG IDEA"......thesis statement is just too old school and stuffy.....grrrrrrr).

Nobody could follow all of that without groping the screen and needing Visine. That, and just the SIGHT of that much text all at once is the ocular equivalent of trying to swallow a basketball. Without chewing first.

The major offender here is that it's just too much all at once, a common mistake to anyone not accustomed to writing for the Web. Actually, I'm not really gonna write out a whole step-by-step. Just look at the finished product and use your intuition to see the diff.

So I've been accused by certain MySpace, and real-life, buddies of writing blogs that are too lengthy (a-hem, Lord Boinky, I'm looking at you).

Of course, it certainly wouldn't be the first time I've been called overly verbose or wordy. I do tend to ramble on at times and get off-track (in both speaking and writing :). Plus, the English teacher in me tends to obsess over supporting details, description, meticulously spell-checking/editing/proofreading everything (even though I have had a few glaring slip-ups lately......"man cocoa," etc......which was totally a typo, btw, King Boy :)

Still, though, if we're going to analyze the entire "blog" genre of writing, are there really standards that dictate length? I'm a bit new to this, I admit; but, I have certainly seen quite a few amusing blog entries that span several pages. And if they're entertaining, well-written entries, who cares about length?

I'd rather read a longer entry that details something interesting or is, at the very least, thought-provoking, than a paragraph about someone's monotonous work day, what they picked up at the supermarket, and what leftovers they dug out of the fridge for dinner. Seriously, I DON'T CARE, nor should I.

What kind of self-important ego-maniac thinks their friends and loved ones care about the mundane details of their day? I actually read a non-MySpace blog of an acquaintance (who's NOT on here), that talked about the SOUP she ate for dinner. SOUP. It was only a few sentences, but really, if that's all you have to write about, why even bother?

I mean, if she was going to go into the significance of the soup, like say, her dead grandmother gave her the family recipe, or how eating soup reminds her of cold winter days when she was a kid, and wasn't life so much easier back? Blah blah blah nostalgia, etc., I could maybe understand, but she didn't. She just talked about the "yummy" soup she heated up from the night before, and that was essentially it. No details, no significance, no anecdotes on soup, nothing.

Maybe I'm being too judgemental (which I've also been accused of, perhaps accurately), but to quote Steve Martin in Trains, Planes and Automobiles, "...You know, when you're telling these little stories? Here's a good idea - have a POINT. It makes it SO much more interesting for the listener!"

In fact, I've often used that quote with my college and high school students over the years, telling them they should ask themselves if they HAD a point after reading over their work. If they can't find it, methinks they better re-think their purpose, as well as their thesis statement (or if you're using the dumbed-down curriculum in the NYC public schools, your "BIG IDEA"......thesis statement is just too old school and stuffy.....grrrrrrr).

Now I'd actually READ that. Same content, but MUCH easier to digest, from an internet-reader perspective. It's not "traditional" writing, but it's not a traditional medium either. People who read stuff on the web need it to look snappy and keep their eyes moving, not getting lost in a sea of verbage.

It's also worth noting that blogging spawned from the keeping of personal online journals. They're written for the AUTHOR, not so much for YOU (except this particular post, of course). Blogs have such random audiences, maybe someone really needs the bright spot that IS someone's yummy bowl of soup in their day.

Still, at the end of the day, I'll say the same thing I'd say to people who want to ban prayer in school and take God off our money: If you don't like it, ignore it and look the other way. Hell, I'm an agnostic and I support people praying or putting God on money or whatever. Does it affect me? Not till they start burning crosses on my lawn.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Ain't That Some Shit

I've pretty much ruled out flying as a way to travel as long as this paranoia regimen is governing the security detail at the airports. Really, it's not making anyone any safer, and the crazies will just keep thinking up new ways to make air travel more exciting for everyone.

So I looked into a Greyhound ticket. Bear in mind it takes 12 hours for me to drive from Sandusky, OH to Worcester, MA, and about 8 hours from Sandusky to Brooklyn. The best I could find for OH to MA takes more than a DAY, and to NYC takes over 16 hours, or twice as long as it would take me to just drive it myself. So funk that noise.

So what about Amtrak from Sand-town to Penn Station? Takes between 13 and 15 hours. Will someone hurry up and invent auto-pilot for cars? It's not the time lost that bothers me; it's the BOREDOM of staring at pavement for 8 to 12 hours at a time. At least on a train or bus I could be reading or writing or 'rithmeticking

I read a review for Darkstar One tonite, and it reminded me how neglected one of my favorite game genres has been lately. If there's one thing videogames can do really well, it's simulate outer space, even on low-budget hardware. Freespace and Homeworld instilled that sense of awe, of the huge and empty nature of the universe, and what it feels like to drift around weightlessly.

Of course, then there was the time in Terminus that I shorted out my ship's power system (overloaded it somehow) and it killed the engines, navigation, then life support, and as the ship drifted helplessly away from the space station I'd just upgraded at, I watched salvation inching ever further away, me trapped in this steel, jet-propelled coffin of my own design. Then the screen started to turn red as the pressure inside the ship dropped and my eyes grew ready to burst. Fade to black.

THAT was a creepy moment, living my own death in space, and all because I pulled a little too much juice for a few seconds. Eeeeeery. I keep thinking I might like EVE Online, but hearing that everything is menus menus menus is a huge turnoff for me.

I <3 space. And yet I can't stand Star Trek. Go figure. Huh, I started out bitching about terrestrial travel and wound up in orbit.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Game. Winning. GOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLL!

Corrina should enjoy this....so I'm up at the park throwing a puck around, taking my precious moments off from my 5 jobs to perfect my tough-angle shots (far to either side of the net) and ringing the posts, as always (YOU try hitting the front three posts of a hockey net with a puck from 15 feet away and tell me how easy it isn't). I'd been out there for a couple hours, working up a nice sweat, just about ready to call it a day when 5 more guys show up. I HAVE to stay now. For weeks I've been up there and no one shows. Opportunity is knocking, and I gotta get the door.

They amble over to the benches and start getting their gear on while I keep trying (and failing) to ring the posts audibly to intimidate them with my not-skill. They decided we should all play together, if for no other reason than 3-on-3 was fair teams. Puck or ball? We end up going ball. This alone should mess me up cuz the feel of shooting with a ball is very different from the puck I'd spent the last two hours (not to mention the previous two WEEKS) practicing with. Plus, all of these guys had to have been at least 5 years younger than me. I felt I might be in trouble, but cast out all thoughts of performance anxiety, says me.

So we start. We throw sticks to decide teams at random. My team wins the first faceoff. We score the first goal (we're playing three-post, as described earlier, to present at least some challenge in lieu of actual goalies). Things are looking good. Then I take a semi-hard backwards tumble after getting tangled up with another player. It's not the fall that hurt; it's when my stick struck my right shin on the way down (I'm icing it as I write this). I've got a nice goose egg of a shiner on there now, and I skate gimpy for a few minutes. On top of that, the other team finds their stride and comes back to beat us 5-1 in five straight goals/posts. I had an assist on the one goal we DID get, but that wasn't much of a boost considering the sound thrashing we'd just taken.

We break for water and to cool down. The skeeters are biting. After a few minutes we decide to go at it again, same teams, same everything, despite some debate about changing in the face of our previous ass-kicking.

But it wasn't the same. Something changed. We got in their faces more. We didn't hang back and wait for the play to develop and read things after they start happening. One of my teammates feeds it over to me, shot, DING off the post. Score. We're up 1-0.

One of my other guys scores. Now we're up 2-0. Then the other team starts to get into the groove again and posts one, we get one more, they get one more, we get one more. Now we're up 4-2, game point. I strip the ball off one of their players and am GONE. Clean breakaway, shot, (don't get your hopes up yet) DING, but it was contested because it hit the ground at almost the same time it hit the post. Rule says it has to be in the air when it hits the post. I let it slide, we were still up 4-2, but I said "Okay, well I guess I'll just have to do it again." They all sorta chuckled, they take the ball, and we go at it for probably another 10 minutes with no score despite several shots by both teams.

Then it happened. JUST like it happened the time before. Stripped the ball off the same guy and took off. One of their guys managed to keep pace with me, but just barely (it's all about the legs, ladies). I pushed hard to stay ahead of him, and was heading toward the corner, which is always a bad place to be nearing at high speed. I thought, "I don't want to die today. I want to score a mofoing goal." So I turn hard, my feet almost at the red line (look at a hockey rink; it's the line that runs across the ice right in front of the goal; shooting from the red line is THE hardest angle to get one in from). Turn and rip it, just in front of the guy about to clobber me, and DING off the FAR POST HOLY SHIT. To the unenlightened, not only did I score from the toughest angle in hockey, but on the narrowest slice of available real estate. WHO'S THE MASTA, LEEROY?

So I drove home just in time to clock in for work, pretty damn proud of my 4-point game. Two goals, two assists, including a no-look behind-the-back pass to center as I was going behind the net to one of my teammates who proceeded to ring the post with it. That's highlight reel shit. So needless to say, despite feeling pretty gross right now (I desperately need a shower....anyone wanna help?), I'm also pretty damn happy with myself, thank you very much.

We joked a little after the last goal. I said, "Does THAT one count?" knowing full well there's no way they could challenge it. They pretended to anyway. "Yeah, you didn't have both feet on the ground" and "It was too high on the post" and other things, but we all had a good time. They said we might play again Thursday night, if my leg heals up in time.

Then again, it's hockey. I'll play injured just to play, dammit. WHO'S WITH ME??

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Friday, August 11, 2006

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Just to Prove a Point

I went to the BMV today to get my new license. There was a gorgeous young lady working there. I asked for her number. She said, "I already have a boyfriend and I don't think he'd appreciate it."

This brings numerous things to light. For one, to those of you in the Intarweb community who repeatedly say I am "teh hawt" and you don't understand why I'm single, here's proof. It has nothing to do with her supposed "boyfriend;" it has everything to do with the fact that she and I currently occupy the same zip code. My hypothesis stands. (Might I remind the audience that my gf in NYC actually lived in Queens, which is a different zip code from Bklyn)

The OTHER big thing that this brings up is...WAY TO SOUND LIKE A FUCKIN AUTOMATON, YOU PUPPET! Do you sit and speak and roll over and this guy's beck and call? I just wanted to call you sometime. I didn't offer to replace the asssaxophone. I dunno, I guess I thought the phone was pretty non-threatening and anonymous. Way to sound like a submissive who can't decide anything for yourself.

So in some ways this makes me think she isn't worth the trouble. I'd HATE to have someone I was dating completely blow someone off just because they thought I'd be upset that they have opposite-sex friends. Funk that noise. No one who controls who their significant other spends their time with actually has a happy significant other.

On the other hand, I can *sort of* appreciate where she's coming from, being loyal and all that, but I'm more inclined to think it was an easy out, rather than telling me that she finds my visage terrifying and will need to sleep with the light on for a month just having seen it once. O, how I probably broke the web cam thingy they use to take licence pics and whatnot.

Or maybe I'm reading too much into it. Either way, Miss In Training (that's what her nametag said), you are a beacon for everything I adore and loathe about dating and women and relationships, all at once. Congrats.

How Much for a Lap Dance?

Well it was cheaper and friendlier than the place we went to in NYC, and the girls were a lot more personable and agreeable (and fully nude), but there were fewer of them, methinks, but not by a lot. For a Monday night, I think we made out pretty well. Here are the stats, as best I can recall:
  • Left home with $150 to blow between Deja Vu and Platinum Showgirls (FYI, we never made it to Platinum...the unc turned into a pumpkin and...if you can believe it...got bored and wanted to head home)
  • Got 5 vodkas (1 cherry, 4 grape) with Red Bull (my drink of choice) at $4.75 apiece (the unc bought two of them)
  • Got six boobs on my face of varying size and at varying times, but all told I had an absolute value of probably a dozen face-to-titty interactions (stage gratitude plus couch dances)
  • Three couch dances total at $15 apiece (the unc paid for one), the first was very nice, the last two were just one LONG one with a gal named Racquel who came to sit at our table and bullshit with us afterwards for about a half hour....naked....and completely comfy with it. Gotta love that.
  • About $9 spent in stage tips, and the ladies were far less greedy than the ones in NYC, where one had the nerve to tell me to tip $100 or not at all. You can guess which option I chose.
So was it better than Rick's in Manhattan? In some ways yes, in some ways no. Rick's had a bit more atmosphere and a LOT more people, but it was also a party night (not a Monday night) and it was our staff party so about 40 people were there by default. However, the level of personal attention and accessibility of the girls here (in Ohio) was a bit higher, and they got a lot more physically involved in the couch dances. They sure knew how to stoke the fire, but I wish to crap I had someone at home waiting for me to take advantage of that pent up energy. Any takers?

I walked in with $150 and walked out with $97. Not bad at all, in my mind. I expected to spend more, but I have it down to a near science. Would you like to know more? Of course you would.

I grab a seat, not right at the stage, but pretty close, and examine the merchandise. I don't make any bones about this. It's a meat market for all intents and purposes. I watch how they dance, how they're built, and after the first full rotation, I know who I'm going to start spending some money on. Even then, I don't go berserk with it....a few bucks here and there, the occasional lap dance, and it's all good. PACE YOURSELF. If you run out of money in the first hour, you're gonna start feeling the booze wear off, and the ladies stop paying attention to you. That's a shitty place to be.

I also do not buy into the facade that they really are interested in me any more than a grocery store cashier is interested in how many hot dogs and ravioli I buy, so long as I pay and walk out with a smile on my face. I will never get a date with any of these girls, despite the unc pressing the issue between me and Racquel; it's legally considered prostitution if she even accepts a phone number from the clientele. However, I respected that and told her that the sentiment was there nonetheless. She was great. It's hard to compare one great dancer to another. It's like picking the impurities out of a gold bar. Who the fuck cares at that point; both she and my fave vixen at Rick's in NYC were top shelf acts. The rest is just details.

So the story has a happy ending, but I still want to see what Platinum has to offer. Tonight was Foxy Boxing, which didn't really pique anyone's interest anyway. I'm happy to see that no one's vocally chastizing me for taking these little adventures in bachelorhood, not that it would stop me at this point anyway. Now I just need someone willing to reap the whirlwind of a hornified me. Now accepting applications....

Monday, August 07, 2006

Boobs and Birthdays

Many thanks to all who came out of the woodwork to wish me a happy birthday. I plan to spend the day eating cake, drinking vodka, and watching bare boobies bounce to and fro in front of my face. My original idea was to just hit Deja Vu or Platinum Showgirls up in Toledo, but then the unc said, "Hell, let's do BOTH!" And so it shall be. I've only ever been to Rick's in midtown Manhattan, and that was an upscale swanky joint I'd love to go back to. After tonite, I'll have two more experiences to compare against. The funny part is the unc has NEVER really been to a strip club in all his 60-some years of livin'. His biggest concern is falling in love with one of the dancers (he falls in love via the wrong head IMO), whereas my biggest concern is him having a heart attack.

Should be a good time. I'll try to remember enough of it to deliver upon you a full report either after we get back or the following morning. YAY FOR TITTIES!

QUICK POLL: I'm thinking about wearing the black suit from my current profile pic to the club. Would you advise me for or against this idea, and why? I don't wanna look like a chump, but I don't want them expecting $100 bills from me either....

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Winkytiki

Check it out. Some cool themey photography that some of you photo-hounds will likely adore...

http://www.winkytiki.com/thegirls/girls/index.html

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

A Letter To Maria

(This was originally just to my friend Maria, but I figured you'd enjoy it, too. Plus, I'm too lazy to reformat this into a proper blog post. Also, I said some things I thought were pretty priceless in here.)

Hey Buttbucket,

Yeah, I finally saw it. Your dolt sister said "check out the new post" and to ME, that means BLOG post, not BULLETIN. Terminology is important. Would you call a gerund a predicate? No, I think not.

So you're toiling away in the temping doldrums. Sounds delish. I, on the other hand, got promoted today at my funky tech support gig, which ironically is based in NYC, but didn't get until I LEFT NYC. I have to do a little more work, still all from the comfort of my lazy desk at home (this means I can work naked if I want to), but my schedule rounds out to an even 40hrs now, plus I get a raise, and I'm STILL self-employed and of course I just plain rock in general. The really cool part is my boss passed up people who'd been working there for a few years and thought to offer me the promo FIRST cuz I'm such a swell guy (I've only been there 2.5 months). She called me "conscientious," which I think is a nerdy way of saying "sexy." Yeah, I rawk.

So here's two more things I started that you can start blabbing all over and make me famous for:

1. Instead of telling people to FUCK OFF, tell them to FUCK ON. Actually, a lesbian friend of mine started this, but I feel authorized to steal her thunder and sell it at warehouse prices.

2. "Drinks from the hose." This is used to describe something either BAD or GAY or BOTH. I think we talked about this already cuz I seem to remember saying to you "Mario sure does drink from the hose" as an example of using it gaily. Plus, when my computer locks up, that really drinks from the hose, too.

Also, I've been up in BG just about every other or every third day lately. Lotsa good times up thurr, especially at the hockey rink in the city park. I don't think I'm quite done with the east coast yet tho. I want to CEMENT my job situation and still enjoy parts of New England that are NOT Worcester, but I think I'd be pretty content raising a family in the Findlay or BG area. I got everything I need here. Someday man, when I find the right ho....

Speaking of, I've been getting on swimmingly with this chick lately. The MS page won't open right now, but it might by the time you read this. She's a lot of fun and very easy on the eyes, too. And, of course, since it's ME, she doesn't live within 1000 miles of me.

So, I rule. And if I rule any harder they're going to put two-term limits on MY AWESOMENESS! Kneel before Zod.

Mark!