Showing posts from March, 2008
I listen to music constantly, as many of you know. I'm listening to music when I'm at work writing huge SQL scripts, when I'm driving home (wanting to run people over), when I'm playing computer games, and just about any other time when I'm not sleeping. (That last point was a pathetic attempt to suggest that I do more than work, sleep, and play computer games. Did it work?)

Ever since I discovered the wonderful world of Fraps (No, that is NOT a euphemism for sex...this time.), I've enjoyed recording bits of cool sequences in computer games that I play and setting them to music. I'm sure you can find a few in the archives of my blog, but I'm way too lazy to look any of them up right now. I think the most recent one you'll find is a really cool Portal video.

As a result of this hobby-within-a-hobby, whenever I'm listening to music I'm always thinking to myself, "Hm, would this make a good computer-game-video song?"

The list of son…
Last night around 10:00 PM or so, I made my way upstairs to get a drink as I do just about every night when I run out of drink. This night, however, would prove to be quite different from any other night before it.

I open the basement door, and I see a moving furball on the floor in front of me. It made it's way over to the kitchen door and sat there. And then it began to growl.

I pushed my initial thought out of my head (which was to go back downstairs and get my shotgun), and instead decided to take a closer look at this alien being that seemed to have made a home in the small area between my kitchen and the main exit of my house.

It was a dog. A rather small dog, only a little bit bigger than a football, but a dog nonetheless. Once again, I pushed my initial thought out of my mind (which was to go back downstairs and get my shotgun), and instead proceeded into the living room to question the other residents of my household as to why such an animal was in my house.

The resu…
I don't discuss politics very often, because I despise politics and politicians. However, even though I hate the entire structure of polics, I still ensure that I read and know what is going on in my own country. I refuse to be classified as an "ignorant American".

Thus, I made an observation on Tuesday. After Barack Obama delivered his speech (yes, I read the transcript and watched the video -- all 37 minutes of it), I knew it was going to cause a media storm. There was something about that speech that seemed different than anything I have seen in a presidential campaign since I can remember them. And I knew one thing for sure: Eventually, at least one journalist is going to start comparing Obama to Martin Luther King Jr.

And it only took 24 hours for that to happen.

I'm not offering my opinion on the speech, or this campaign, or who I think should be the next president of the United States. I'm just sh…
I came across this article yesterday while attempting to avoid any news article related to the 2008 presidential election. I thought I'd share, since I found it entertaining:

Click here, the link is too big to display in full.

Lost in Translation

Ordering Chinese food is always a treat, because I don't understand what the hell they are saying, nor do they understand what the hell I'm saying.

Today was made even more difficult by the fact that I knew this restaurant's menu better than the girl taking my order. There wasn't even a chance that I was pronouncing the names of the dishes incorrectly, because I was using their numbering system in addition to the name. And still the girl didn't know what the hell I was saying.

Then, another person got on the phone AT THE SAME TIME. How many Chinese people does it take to get my order right? Rhetorical question. If this lunch is accurate when (if?) it arrives, it's going to be a Buddhist miracle.

I find the map and draw a straight line, over rivers farms and state lines.
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be, is only finger lengths that I see.
I touch the place where I'd find your face, my finger in creases of distant dark places.

-- Set Fire to…


There is a lot of static electricity in my office, which is a pretty natural occurence. Any time you go through a door you can be assured the doorknob will zap you as you touch it. I got zapped on the hand so badly once that the discharge was heard clear across the office. I'm sure it would have lit up the room had it been dark.

This morning, I stood up from my desk to talk to a co-worker behind me. We're separated by the wall at my back, where I have a dry eraser board hanging by metal clamps. As I leaned up against the wall, I made contact with one of the metal brackets, which then proceeded to send what seemed like 500 volts of static electricity right into my left nipple. I would compare the pain to being kicked in the scrotum with golf shoes. Of course, my co-worker was peeing herself laughing as I'm laying sprawled out on the floor, twitching as my nipple was wondering why the hell it just got sent to the electric chair for a crime it didn't commit.
The weather around here has been really nuts as of late, and I keep waiting for the meteorologists and scientists to coin some new phrase for it. We've already had two versions (at least) of El Nino, so I'm sure they can come up with something even more creative this time. Global Warming just doesn't have the same ring to it.

In any case, we've been hit with about 3 inches of snow which was immediately followed by 60 degree weather and 3 inches of rain. Which melted the snow quickly and basically left a mess in its wake. Given that I live in a basement, situations like these tend to make me nervous.

Rightfully so. When I got home from work yesterday evening, the carpet behind my bar was showing visible signs of moisture. This spread to the area close to my bed by the time I turned in for the night, and was still prevalent when I got up this morning.

Thankfully, today has been dry outside. Overcast and miserable, sure, but no rain or snow to speak of. It's a…