A Titanular Quest

I am well aware that reading about computer troubles is not what many people would refer to as "high quality entertainment", but recently I was deprived of the interweb at my home due to an unfortunate "hardware malfunction". Seeing as I was desperately trying to fix this problem in order to play Titan Quest, and Greek Mythology has been around for thousands of years and people still seem interested in it, AND given the fact that epic tales are by their very nature, epic, I will try to relay the story in a more entertaining fashion. It all began about three years ago, I was engaged in epic travels through the labyrinth known as the seacoast NH area. I was attempting to defeat some terrorists, or perhaps the Chinese, or perhaps attempting some other violent, yet noble feat, when I realized that my weapon had become a bit obsolete. Tirelessly I searched the jungle for a new weapon, or the makings of one. Eventually, I was able to find enough pieces to assemble a superior weapon, and with a little care and patience, it was honed into a vastly superior mechanism for accomplishing my goals. Over the next three years, I stumbled across various items that I used to enhance my weapon, adding attributes that made it more effective, and many beasts fell by its wrath. This is of course, until last Thursday. Last Thursday I had run across a swarm of giant locusts, and just before they fell in a heap, as had happened many times previously, my weapon fell to the ground, silent. The familiar blue aura had ceased as well. I frantically tried to repair my weapon, removing and replacing various runes and charms in an effort to awaken it. Alas, I could not fix it, and my comrades were forced to venture into the dark without me. After much study, I identified what I believed to be the problem, and immediately visited a local merchant to obtain a replacement. Upon reassembly, I needed to visit the cave of drivers in order to complete the fusion of the replacement part and all its fellow pieces. I entered the cave, which had a path clearly marked "drivers", so foolishly, I headed that way. At the end of the path was a fountain of water, which I rashly dipped my weapon in to. Immediately I was surround by the same darkness that had gotten me in to this predicament. After a brief moment of panic, I decided that I should probably go back to the merchant and acquire another OS (Outer Seal) to apply to my weapon, since the old one didn't seem to get along with then new part. The merchant informed me that I would have to write down the secret code to get another OS, or else talk to the Indian Robot, and have it give me the code. Failing at the former, I tried the latter, and again ventured in to the cave of drivers. Again I dipped my weapon in the fountain, and again I was immediately surrounded bu silence and darkness. "Mother of Hera!!" I proclaimed as I stumbled out in the darkness. Upon returning to the sign that said "drivers", I looked more closely, and off to the left, near a tiny crack in the wall was a sign written in what appeared to be Greek. I decided to go in anyway, and low and behold there was another sign that said "weapons" and after that a sign that said "your weapon". After using the fountain found in this room, my weapon was again restored to its former glory, and all was well. Fin

A Vicious Cycle

I had originally planned to write about these, but something more shocking and immediate has come up. That being said, I do have a few comments about Rap Snacks that I think should probably be addressed. I will start by saying that I have in fact consumed "Bar-B-Queing with my Honey" flavored chips brought to me by Lil' Romeo. Although I am not familiar with his body of work, I did like some of his father's creations, including this, and yes, even this. I will also point out that Lil' Romeo would like you to stay in school. No word on where his degree is from, but I will look in to it. I would also like to point out that many of the messages are very education oriented, so this one seems a little out of place, even if it is coming from the Youngbloodz. On a side not, one of my favorite songs of all time features the Youngbloodz, and every other song I have head by them is pretty much awful. I guess we will chalk that one up to Outkast. I wonder what their Rap Snacks would say?

Ok, enough of that. On to a more PRESSING issue. Let me preface this rant by saying that I understand that public bathrooms are gross, and from what I have heard/seen (while doing chores at the house) girls bathrooms are worse than guys bathrooms in this regard. That is not the issue. What I am taking issue with is the issue of WHY, and the vicious cycle that I perceive to be causing said phenomenon. Now, this morning, when I went to use the restroom, one of the stalls had SHIT (poop, feces, excrement, doo-doo, etc.) ON THE SEAT. Clearly no one now wants to sit on this particular surface, and if forced at gunpoint to use this toilet, would probably deploy the "squat technique" that I have heard discussed by female-types (usually while at a bar after a guy remarks about the dampness of the floor around a urinal). HOWEVER, it is not a fantastical logical leap to assume that the very same "squat technique" was being utilized in order to create this situation in the first place. You see, according to what I learned in Biology class, if you ass is PRESSING against the seat, there is no way that things can get ON the seat. For the sake of argument, let us assume that someone sees a toilet right after it has been cleaned. This person actually SEES that it is being cleaned, and waits until the cleaning is done, then guards it until it has time to completely dry. We can describe this toilet as "pristine". It would make no sense to squat, correct? Now, after this person uses the toilet, being sure to PRESS firmly, thus sealing off any sort of debris, is it really that much worse to sit on? worse than say, the knobs on the sink that are touched IMMEDIATELY after people "handle themselves" so to speak? I say no. And assuming that everyone followed that philosophy, then it would remain that way. Frankly, I feel like anyone that cannot handle that, should not be using a public toilet, because I think we can all agree that when business is done directly on the seat, then no one, germophobe or no, wants to use that facility anymore. Just as a final note, this particular toilet was also the one closest to those tissue paper seat covers. I really hate people sometimes.

Return of the Blogger

In light of it being voting day (though I am not actually voting, so I don't know what that has to do with anything) and at the urging of KP, I have decided to attempt a triumphant return to the "blogosphere". Admittedly, I have not even being keeping up with OTHER PEOPLE'S blogs, much less my own, but I did notice that Frank has not exactly been putting me to shame, that makes me feel a little better. My life has been just about the same excitement-wise as it was back when I was posting more regularly, but since my mission statement explicitly points out that what happens in "reality" has very little to do with what appears here, so I suppose that is also irrelevant. I can say with all certainty that had I written anything on Saturday evening/Sunday morning after visiting Brickskellers, we all could have had an entertaining morning read. You, courtesy of Brickskellers, and me courtesy of the MD 20/20s and Sparks+ that the Hermanator brought over before we went out. Man did I feel terrible the next day. A few notes in that regard: Beer + Rusty Nail? Not so good. Beer + Cayenne pepper? Not so good. All in all a good time though.

I did discover something interesting. I was watching "Flight of the navigator" the other day. As is not surprising, most people in that movie have never been in much of anything else. However, the movie does feature a very young Sarah Jessica Parker, and more surprising than anything, especially given my age when I first saw the movie, is that the voice of the ship is played by Paul Reubens. Interestingly enough, there appears to be a new Pee-Wee's playhouse movie coming out in 2007. First Brady throws 4 picks, then the Bears lose to the Dolphins, then the Lions win a game, then this. I really don't know what to believe anymore.

The Strangest Thing Happened the Other Day...

So the other night Elsie and I were walking to dinner. We were waiting to cross the street when a black BMW pulled up next to us. This is not unusual in DC. The window on the passenger side was rolled down, and the driver asked us for directions to 495, or any way to get to Virginia. This is also not unusual. Then it got a little weirder. The guy (who seemed a little strung out) asked if it was far, because he was almost out of gas. We told him no, not that far. He then decided to explain to us that he had no money for gas, and he was only in the city because his other car had been stolen. Being familiar with how things are in this city, I braced for the inevitable solicitation (which would be funny enough from a guy in a BMW as is). What came next was both bold and odd. He asked for $15 (bold) and then asked if "you smoke this?", holding out a little plastic bag filled with a dark substance (odd). We quickly said no thank you, and he pulled a little way out in to the intersection. Seeing that the light was red, he backed up a bit. He continued talking, and I ignored him, but Elsie tells me that he may have been trying to sell us "his" car. After realizing that we were not biting, he ran the red light (now that there were cars coming) and sped away with his little blue baggy (baggies?). Just another day in our nation's capital I guess.

The wait is unbearable, but the music is good

I have experienced a wait similar to this in the past, but it was not so small and black and... AWESOME. Waiting for built in batteries to fully charge for the first time is basically the worst thing ever. I never owned a game gear, but if I had, I would not have had to wait. Actually, I probably would have had to wait until my mom went to the store to get batteries. Which could have taken days. Which would have been worse. Nevermind. The point is, that Darth Vader now has a tiny, shiny black friend, and I am very excited. If Jefe gets his ass in gear, he will be as cool as me. If not, I will roll into his crew-meet(nerd-fest) next month as the baddest man in town. I don't know which to root for because on the one hand, I would pwn Jefe at his own "house" as the footballers would say, at an even where "pwn" is a very pertinent term. On the other hand, the more the merrier when it comes to drinking beer and playing multi-player DS games, right? I was thinking it would be fun to bring this down, unopened, so as to not have any previous experience advantage. I was hoping that I could keep typing until my new toy (name pending I guess) was charged, but I would need a lot more (read as: any) beer to get that many words out, and I have to work tomorrow. The ~3 hour commute sucks, but my little black friends make it more bearable (assuming that my new toy is as fun as the old one, which can now be devoted to full time Big Brain Academy and Brain Age for Elsie). I wonder, will people on the train look at me funny if I start yelling audibles into Madden 07? Would it help if I used my "headphones voice", as in, that loud talking you do when listening to headphones? I am sure to be listening to this song at some point, as it is awesome and I can't get it out of my head.

Oh Lord, That Was... Epic

Over the past weekend the true nature of the title of this blog was revealed to some (above). There were also several other varieties of Malt Liquor that descended upon us while on our way in to madness. Also bum wine. Also several varieties of beer, but those were more of a reprieve. After all of this, one thing can be said for certain. Wildcat malt liquor is the foulest form of malt liquor I have ever had. And I have had others in edition to what went down in the A-town, as they say. I have probably forgotten some, but after all that, it is probably a miracle I remember to breathe regularly. Malt liquor aside, there was much video gaming, food, and company to contribute goodness to the trip. Also, I hadn't stayed up til sunlight in a while. Good Times.

A Quick Question...

I have a quick question, but it requires a little background. Some of you are familiar with my current bathroom setup, and so this next little bit is unnecessary, but for the rest, I will explain the setup. My bathroom is small, and by small, I mean SMALL. The way it is laid out is such that the sink does not have a cabinet built around the bottom, because when sitting on "Le Jon", your knees go under the sink. I suppose this could be convenient if you were violently ill at both ends, but that is gross, and not the point. What IS the point, and which may be similarly gross, is as follows. I know that many people use the bathroom first thing in the morning, and often brush their teeth in the same trip. I would think that this question would then apply more so to the ladies due to the laws of probability or something, but here it is: As a time-saving measure, is it OK to brush your teeth while sitting on the toilet if the sink is right there? It seems potentially convenient enough to bring up, but I think I am leaning towards "no". Let me know what you think.

iLife

iRecently began my iLife. On a Thursday evening, iThought that iWould prepare for/celebrate my new means of earning a living. iWent to the Apple Store, and purchased a shiny new 60GB iPod (black). iGot home, and like a school-child at Christmas, iGleefully unwrapped my newest toy. As many of you may know, the first thing you need to do is install iTunes if you do not already have it, and there is a CD that comes in the box that iBelieved would allow me to do so. iPut the CD in my drive, and it began to install something that was not iTunes at all! What it was, was the software updater that would allow me to update my iPod to the newest version of software, which as it turns out, is the same as the factory default for this batch (also, iAm pretty sure that what apple calls "software" is really "firmware", but iAm not positive). After installing this semi-useless peripheral, iGot an error box telling me that iTunes could not install on a 64-bit OS. WONDERFUL! iDid some research, and as far as iCan tell, the only upgrade made for the newest version of iTunes (1.0.6) from v1.0.5 is that in v1.0.5, under a 64-bit OS, the CD burning does not work properly without some fiddling around with drivers (which I have not tried yet, iMay update that soon), and in v1.0.6, it shits the bed, and doesn't install. iFind this to make a LOT of sense. After getting iTunes installed, it was time for iBed. iWould begin my iLife in the morning. The next morning, after my sepcial lady-friend had left for work, iBegan the horrible process of updating all the tags on my Mp3s. This necessary evil allows you to use your iPod in a more convenient fashion, and iReally should have done it a long time ago, so no complaints here. After waiting quite a while for my iPod to update, iWas ready to listen to an mp3 through those nifty white headphones instead of through my computer speakers, and then the neatest thing happened! It FROZE COMPLETELY! iSpent the next full day looking up ways to do things that apple would not want to tell you about, like resetting the iPod (which iAm sick of typing, so iWill now refer to it as darth vader), DOWNGRADING the software (which takes a special, non-sanctioned program), restoring, re-syncing, and basically, desperately trying to make it work for more than a song or two. Finally, it was time to go out to dinner where we had two $40 bottles of wine that also had a screw cap instead of a cork. I am just glad I didn't have to pay for them. The next morning, iAgain tried to fix it, but before iCould get it working, it was time to go to the MLS game. That was fun, but it did not fix darth vader. Today, iTried once more, but no dice. iWent back to the mall, visions of getting into an iArgument at the Apple Store dancing in my head, but for the cost of the stupid thing, iWas prepared to iPunchSomebodyInTheThroat to get a working one. Turns out that the staff was very helpful, and after seeing darth vader in action, they went all emperor on him, and issued me a new apprentice. Or something. Anyway, the new one seems to work, which is neat, and iAm happy. Also, turns out not all my mp3 tags are fixed yet. iSigh.

A "Near-Death" Experience

As Kamikazee Pigeon pointed out, I recently had a near death experience (in a manner of speaking). It went something like this: I had a parachute, but I was considering getting a new one, as my current one was about due to be retired. That being said, it still had some use in it, so there was no IMMEDIATE need for another one. I was contacted by a parachute salesman, so I thought I would look into buying a new one. Here is where the near death comes in to play. I was on the plane, flying along, and I wasn't sure if my new parachute had arrived yet. I asked my assistant how soon he could have the old chute unpacked, in case the new chute arrived. He said, "I already unpacked the old chute" (with no mention of whether the new one had arrived), then shoved me out of the plane. At this point, I think I tried to crap my pants, but since both me and my crap were in free-fall, I think I was saved by physics. Or something. Anyway, as you may know, you cannot pull the ripcord immediately, or your chute gets tangled with the propellers, and it's a bad scene. So I had this agonizing wait while I basically assumed that I was going to die. Luckily, afer what seemed like a day or so later, I was able to pull the ripcord, and it turned out that I did in fact have a new chute, so that's good. Kind of an anticlimactic ending I suppose, but the whole thing is really more of an analogy anyway.

Putting the SUCK in Soul-Sucking

Today I thought to myself, "how can I combine several of my least favorite activities into one big fat morning-wasting adventure?" First, I had to decide on some of my least favorite things to do, before I could combine them. For this morning's purposes, I chose paperwork, interacting with strangers, and waiting in line. To combine these things, I thought, "I know! I will go to the DMV!!!" However, I was in for a big surprise! It turns out that I actually combined interacting with strangers with paperwork, and waiting in line, and waiting in line, and waiting in line, etc. Let me explain. Where I hail from, the definition of a line is very different than it is here. My first trip to the DMV consisted of 15 people in a room, 2 of which were working, 6 of which (at least) were waiting either to take a driving test, or for their license to be printed up, and at most 7 people in line. I would hear comedians joke about how much the DMV sucked, and I would laugh, but as it turns out, I was like a redneck laughing at Dennis Miller; namely, I did not really get the joke. The neat part about the DMV in the district, or at least the one I had to go to since there is only one place you can get temporary plates, is that the line to get your licence has like 40 parts. By this I mean, first you wait in line in the hall, then you get to a little airlock. Once in the airlock, you can see what you believe to be the end of the line, but when you get to the other side, you see that the line actually goes out along the wall and then doubles back. After you have doubled back, you have to wait for one of three people working at a little kiosk to say "next in line" in the most dreary possible tone of voice. After the three people in front of you go in rapid succession, the following happens: One needs a translator. This will have to be flown in from that person's country of origin, then taught conversational English, and with airline security the way it is, and the current state of our public schools, I don't need to tell you that this takes quite a while. A second person working at the kiosk takes this opportunity to go on a coffee break of some sort. The third is delayed because the person they are helping is asking if there is any way to get your license if you have a Martian birth certificate, no proof of residency, and you are only able to pay in stale froot loops. By the time you do get to go to the kiosk, you have forgotten where you are, and what you are supposed to be doing. After this is all explained to you, you are given a number and told to sit down. As it turns out, your number is preceded by a letter such that then next line can be a complicated WEB of lines, all leading to various counters. After watching divorce court with no sound for 45 minutes (which is actually kind of amusing) you are called to window number 18. You arrive there to find that no one is at window 18, but if you wait long enough, someone shows up because of chaos theory or some crap. You hand them the 8 things they require, which they do not even look at, but which they would also execute you for not having, and you are shooed off to another line where you wait for a lady who does not understand where she is supposed to sign the little piece of plastic, or why the plastic pen has no ink. It is important to note that this woman will also have an infant with her that will not stop screaming "mama" until sometime in her mid-20's. Finally you get your picture taken, your license is given to you and you go to "the terrible land of temporary tags". In here there is a smaller line, but that is deceiving. This is because there are only two employees. One employee is in charge of handling things from some other part of the labyrinth, while occasionally squeezing in a customer, and the other has the sole duty of issuing temporary license plates. She is inept. In the time that the first employee processed 3 requests from the labyrinth, and 4 customers, she had successfully completed ZERO transactions. The only thing that could make this worse is if you forgot your favorite method of portable entertainment, and someone in the very same room had a near-exact replica. It is important to note, that I did go the extra mile in this regard. I cannot WAIT to go back to get my real plates once I get my car inspected.

A Reason Not to Have Children

I cannot think of a better reason for not having children at this point than Little League Baseball. I know on the surface, this makes no sense, but hear me out. If I were to have a child, they would most likely end up a baseball fan, as I consider myself a fan. If this were the case, they would most likely wish someday to PLAY baseball, and that would probably mean that I would end up at a Little League game. As it turns out, the parents of Little Leaguers are so despicable, that they can actually turn something as pure and wholesome as CHILDREN PLAYING BASEBALL and turn it into something DESPICABLE. I cannot even begin to express how stupid this is. It seems clear that if I were to attend a little league game there would have to be an elaborate screening process through which anyone that wanted to speak to me would have to pass. And I would probably have to be restrained like Hannibal Lecter, or at the very least, Ice Cube at the start of xXx: State of the Union to keep other people safe, and me out of the newspapers. You know it would be turned against me too. For example, some guy that got cut from his company softball team would spend 45 minutes berating an umpire for a strike call against his kid that he didn't even really see because he was buying a hotdog. Then, he would saunter over to me, start trying to get me to agree with him, then make some crack about "musta learned that from the old man" after my kid made an error, which is inevitable. For anyone that has never seen one of these games, they should really count "non-errors" instead of errors, just to save effort. I would reply with something like, "it's a learning experience" or something, and then he might point out that it cost the team a run. At this point, I would probably go to the bathroom and then sit somewhere else, pretending to see someone I knew but my new buddy would find me and start in again. To avoid being any more tedious than I have already been, I will just sum the rest up. My new friend continues to berate the opposing team and umpires like he's at an MLB game harassing Barry Bonds. I would "politely" ask him to "shut up" (meaning probably work a crack about his mom into a crack about his role on the company softball team), and then he'd probably flip out, and then I am in the newspaper as one of "those" dads. Doesn't seem fair.

An inauspicious beginning

Being that I started this today on a whim, and that I am quickly approaching a meeting that I am supposed to attend via "telephone", I will make this brief. For those of you who understand the name of this blog, I am sure you recognize the above faces as ones you may have attempted to make, or have seen others attempt to make, or at the very least, as faces that you can comprehend at a basic, gravity-laden level. For those of you who do not, I am sure I will post again in more detail on this subject. That being said, I know that many of the people who will read this have blogs of their own, that they use to talk about things that happen in their lives that are interesting, or informative, or otherwise entertaining. I am not yet willing to promise that this will be the same such kind of posting. True, I may indeed talk about actual events, but I may also spend much time talking about things that may not have, nor will ever in our collective lifetimes, occur. Enjoy

--D14