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May 31, 2005

Ga-ga video of the day

It's not often that I get turned on by a music video, but the video for Jem's "They" is like, totally awesome. I thought her CD was good, but had to snicker when another of her songs turned up on the Closer soundtrack right next to Mr. Turgid, Damien Rice.

Anyway, this video works for me because it has this hot stripping astronaut thing going on. The inner sci-fi geek in every 14-year-old male wants the girl astronaut to get naked. And, unless you're watching a porno, what are the chances of that happening?

Not that I watch sci-fi pornos, so I wouldn't know, but what do you think a good sci-fi porno movie title would be? A really, really bad one would be: Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Syph-ilis. Thanks, I'll be here all week.

Posted at 08:29 PM | Comments (0)

Somebody had to say it

What has Robby Gordon been smoking? The NASCAR driver has vowed to never race again in the Indianapolis 500 because uber-hottie Danica Patrick, who finished fourth on Sunday, has an unfair advantage because she only weighs 100 pounds. As the kids are fond of saying nowadays: wtf?

Gordon, a former open-wheel driver now in NASCAR, contends that Patrick is at an advantage over the rest of the competitors because she only weighs 100 pounds. Because all the cars weigh the same, Patrick's is lighter on the race track.

"The lighter the car, the faster it goes," Gordon said. "Do the math. Put her in the car at her weight, then put me or Tony Stewart in the car at 200 pounds and our car is at least 100 pounds heavier.

"I won't race against her until the IRL does something to take that advantage away."

For a suitable rant about this, click here.

Posted at 09:08 AM | Comments (0)

Told you so

As some of you might know, I am obsessed with Canada. I love Canada, and I love Canadian women. This merely confirms what I already knew:

BANGKOK, Thailand (CP) - Canada's entry for this year's
Miss Universe contest, Natalie Glebova, carried off the winner's tiara in Bangkok on Tuesday, narrowly beating a strong contingent from beauty-pageant-crazy Latin America.

The 23-year-old Torontonian, who emigrated from Russia 11 years ago, was considered a favourite but appeared surprised after judges picked her over runner-up Cynthia Olavarria of Puerto Rico.

Are you a Canadian woman? Do you want to marry me to get American citizenship? Leave a note in the comment box then! If not, take off hoser!

Posted at 07:57 AM | Comments (1)

May 27, 2005

For shame

This isn't a surprise to me at all:

rowding in US emergency departments is being fueled by rising numbers of patients even as some departments shut their doors, according to a report from the Centers for
Disease Control and Prevention.
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Dr. Catharine W. Burt and Linda F. McCraig, at the CDC's Division of Health Care Statistics, report the annual number of emergency department (ED) visits increased from 90.3 million to 113.9 million visits between 1993 and 2003

The reason for this is simple: people come to the emergency room for things that aren't emergencies. They do so because they know they don't have to make an appointment.

I once had a job at the hospital (the one where I had to shave balls), and we'd have people in the ER all the time who decided to come in with maladies that had been bothering them for weeks. It's unacceptable to jam up the ER like this, but it's also equally unacceptable to refuse treatment. If you want to hear something funny, ask my dad what he thinks about people who come to the ER for non-emergencies. I won't, because it's scary.

Nevertheless, I think people need to screw their heads on straight and realize they can't treat the ER like the health center.

Posted at 02:29 PM | Comments (0)

Gah gah gah

One of my failings, I think, is that I put off things that I think might hurt others' feelings. I hurt people's feelings all the time, but not intentionally. Occasionally, I lack tact. That's hard to say. Lack tact. Try it!

So today I sacked up, went in and told my boss I wasn't coming back for next school year. 'Cause I'm going to law school! While, as I told him, I haven't decided where to go yet, I'm definitely going somewhere. The conversation was preceded by me coming in to give him some stuff, and then me being all blubbery and nervous until he said, "is something the matter?"

Now that I told him, I feel so much better but still like a bit of an ass. I mean, this was my first-ever real job, in that it was my reason for getting up in the morning. (As opposed to, say, beer.) To simply up and quit like that, even though people do it every day, does not seem right to me. But, it was the right thing for me to do, and I think they support that. In the meantime, if anyone wants to give me money to buy Kraft Dinner, please e-mail me.

Posted at 09:02 AM | Comments (0)

May 26, 2005

I predict a riot

I really need to start toting my camera along with me when I go for bike rides. A few hours ago, I was peddling along on Sheffield Avenue to get a taste of my undoing - pretending to race the cute girl with glasses on the bike next to me, while she was probably merely annoyed that I kept getting in her way - when traffic came to a screeching halt.

I was near The Vic, and the road was choked with three or four tour busses, and a swelling crowd of people jaywalking across the street. It was, for lack of a better term, a decidedly urban crowd. I soon discovered I was in the midst of a taping for MTV2's "Two Dollar Bill" concert - concerts by famous acts for only two dollars - with none other than Fat Joe. I am trying to hide my enthusiasm as best as I can here.

I weaved through the crowd and the swearing cabbies, and marveled at the sheer amount of junk that Fat Joe had with him. What does he need all those buses for? It was nuts, fo' shizzle.

Posted at 08:13 PM | Comments (0)

Trivia question

Here's a good trivia question for you: six people have been made Honorary Citzens of the United States. Name any three of them!

Posted at 02:15 PM | Comments (1)

Idol chatter

Ah, so another season of American Idol has come to an end, and Carrie Underwood is this year's Idol. She bested the stupidly-named Bo Bice, and earns a number 2 ranking behind Kelly Clarkson in my list of hottest American Idols.

I spend a lot of time ragging on reality TV, but I think American Idol is okay in my book. As far as reality shows go, it's probably the "purest." There's none of the gimmicks of The Bachelor, the trickery of Survivor, or the bleatings of Donald Trump. Even the scandal wasn't a big deal: Paula Abdul, doing her best Blanche DuBois impression, could do nothing to keep her favorite contestant on the show. Yes, the hype machine works overtime when new episodes roll around, and maybe the show drags on, but these are forgiveable errors, not a fundamental, fatal flaw.

Some people ridicule the singers as "fake" because they got their record contracts through a TV show. I think this is better than the route other artists took to get famous. Nobody can ever accuse an American Idol winner of having to lip synch or getting her voice processed through a pitch-improving machine. If there is one thing to take away from American Idol, it may be a popularity contest, but you're always going to end up with a quality singer.

Posted at 08:22 AM | Comments (0)

May 25, 2005

Practicing my jump shot

I've been printing these reports at work, and for some reason every page I print generates another page with only the headers on it, and no other relevant information. I've tried to tweak the report, but doing so messes everything up. Not so cool!

So, I've got about thirty useless pages sitting here. What else am I going to do with them besides crumple them into little balls and throw them into my recycling can? It's a good little office workout, and quite a bit fun. Maybe I'll add a little backboard to it.

Posted at 02:06 PM | Comments (1)

Iraq-a-rama

Now to get really grim on you. I have a friend who once came to Chicago looking for a job, and I told him he could stay on my couch while going on interviews. So he stayed there for probably a good month, sending resumes, having interviews, and watching lots and lots of Simpsons episodes. He never did get offered a job, and one day he left and joined the Marines.

Now he's in Iraq, and his company is getting run through the mill. After all that, it looks as though they're getting sent into combat again. I'm speechless when I read about what these guys are going through. What can I say? Get it done, and get home safely.

Posted at 09:10 AM | Comments (0)

Moderates are mavericks

Kudos to Senator George Voinovich, who issued a missive to the other 99 senators asking that they reject President Bush's nomination for UN ambassador, John Bolton. Bolton is about as pleasant as a bunion, and as diplomatic as a rabid raccoon. I have a feeling that Bolton's nomination is going to go through, but it is good to see Voinovich make a stand rather than mindlessly follow the Republican agenda. Voinovich was previously governor of Ohio, and he was much much better than the current twit running Ohio, Bob Taft.

I'll tell you what drives me bonkers about the Republican Party. The people in charge are too far to the right to make any sense to me whatsoever. There's plenty of good, moderate Republicans. I think Voinovich is one of them. I don't have a problem with the average Republican, nor should anyone. However, because Voinovich isn't working on the strict party line, other Republicans are making veiled threats against him. Yeah, that's cool.

But in the same way that there is a backlash against ultra-liberal Democrats, some day this over-conservative Republican party will fail. Despite what Rush Limbaugh might tell you, the majority of people are either moderate Republicans or moderate Democrats, and soon the winds will shift back to the left. When that happens, I will chuckle heartily.

Posted at 08:42 AM | Comments (0)

Better safe than sorry

Lancaster had a bomb scare yesterday:

A box suspected of being a bomb forced police to close Forest Rose Avenue for about two hours Tuesday.

A U.S. postal carrier was delivering mail in the neighborhood around 12:40 p.m. when went to 410 Forest Rose Ave.

On the porch, next to the door, was a brown cardboard box with the written message "Merry X-Mas The Santa Bomber." The carrier called 911 and the Lancaster firefighters and police responded to the scene around 12:50 p.m.

"We saw the inscription and decided we were better safe then sorry," said Lancaster Fire Capt. Tom Dempsey.

He said police set up a perimeter and stopped traffic on Forest Rose between Union Street and Sixth Avenue.

The bomb turned out to be a box of CD's. Hehe!

Posted at 08:38 AM | Comments (0)

May 24, 2005

Thieves!

Yesterday I did a pretty stupid thing: before work, I threw all my towels except one into the washing machine in my house. I jaunted off to work, came back 9 hours later to see the towels still in there, and then threw them into the dryer.

I forgot all about them last night, so I went to get them this morning. They're gone. My towels are *gone*! I have only one towel, which unless I get them back, will soon become ratty and gross. I live in a three-flat, so there's only about six other people living in the whole building. It's pretty customary to just kind of leave your laundry in there, so I really thought nothing of it.

I am not one to cry foul and suggest a conspiracy against me by my neighbors. It's probably a simple case of mistaken identity, for one set of towels looks quite a bit like any other set of towels. Somebody came in there, saw a bunch of towels, and figured they were theirs.

I left the nicest possible note, on legal paper, on the dryer:

Mon. 5/23 PLEASE can I have my towels back? (4 yellow + 1 green + 1 white.)

Thanks,
Tim

Just to take some collateral, I snatched out of the dryer a handful of my neighbors' bras and thongs, which likewise had been left overnight. Okay, I really didn't do that, but I'm thinking if you can leave your unmentionables in the dryer overnight, you can do the same with towels.

Do you think I'll get my towels back?

Posted at 09:01 AM | Comments (1)

Worst. Band. Ever.

I got into an interesting philosophical argument last night at the Cubs game. It all started when the loudspeaker at Wrigley Field began playing "Drops of Jupiter" by Train. I unequivocally regard Train as probably the worst band ever. I don't know why, but I do. Pat Monahan is a nice guy, and the rest of Train seem like upstanding citizens, but every Train song I hear on the radio makes me wish I was deaf. Okay, I take that back - I would never want to be deaf. But it definitely makes me wish I had really long arms like Elastigirl so as to find the radio that is playing Train and change the channel.

So, I started saying to anybody that would listen how I thought Train was the worst band ever. But I realized that such proclamations could get me in trouble, because I once saw a band playing in the basement of a house in college who were really, pretty shitty. Train is probably better than them, so I amended my statement to be "Train is the worst band to ever have a platinum record."

This brought on a cavalcade of suggestions as to bands that may be worse than Train. My friend claimed that Genesis was definitely worse than Train, but I disagree. Phil Collins is awesome, and that is all I have to say about that. A secret you may have never known about me: the first compact disc I ever bought was Genesis's "We Can't Dance." I had plenty of tapes and records before then, but Genesis was my very first CD. No, I really can't remember why I bought it. But no way is Genesis or a solo Phil Collins worse than Train.

The people in front of us, three Southsiders who somehow found themselves at Wrigley, probably to watch the Cubs lose (which they didn't... assholes) heard the discussion and joined in. One says, "I know who's worse: that black lady with the real annoying voice." Then we both said "Macy Gray" at the exact same time. Yes, Macy Gray is also bad. She's the one who started that annoying drop thing I was talking about awhile back. But Train is worse. Macy Gray may have the most awful voice, but she can at least put some soul into her music. If we did this purely on awful voices, Bob Dylan would be in the poor house somewhere in Minnesota.

Now, in my mind, there is only one contender to worst band ever that even comes close to Train. And that is Chumbawumba. I don't even know if Chumbawumba should even count as a band. Their lone hit, Tubthumper, is a song about getting drunk and beating the crap out of each other. They are also self-styled anarchists who encourage fans to steal their CD's, though I don't know if you'd find anyone who would take a free copy of a Chumbawumba CD.

I am hesitant, however, to label Chumbawumba as worse than Train simply because they have no staying power. That is why Train puzzles me so much. They suck, but keep getting brought back for more. And people keep buying their stuff!

If anyone can think of a band worse than Train, let me know. I'm interested to hear your thoughts. My only limitations are that it must be a famous artist, who are not one-hit wonders and who have more than one CD in release. I await your suggestions.

Posted at 08:06 AM | Comments (3)

May 23, 2005

Take me out to the ballgame

I'm finally making my inaugural appearance at a Major League baseball game for this year tonight. It's the Cubs vs. the Astronomicals, and Houston is sending a guy to the mound who will be making his Major League debut. This makes me think he is going to shut out the Cubs. The Cubs are countering with Glendon Rusch, who has done well enough for the Cubs considering he went 1-12 two years ago.

I'm agitated about seeing Rusch because it usually goes without fail that every Cubs game I attend features their fifth starter. Two years ago, the year of the mythic Bartman Ball, I had to have seen freaking Shawn Estes pitch five times!

Posted at 01:12 PM | Comments (1)

Math for dummies

From Yahoo:

Sports Fans Cry Foul on Math Question

By The Associated Press 2 hours, 27 minutes ago

RALEIGH, N.C. - The state's test writers tried to come up with a math question about football and ended up with a fumble.

On an end-of-grade test this month, seventh-graders had to calculate the average gain for a team on the game's first six plays. But the team did not gain 10 yards on the first four plays and would have lost possession before a fifth and sixth play.

The team opened with a 6-yard loss, a 3-yard gain and a 2-yard loss, which would have made it fourth down with 15 yards to go for a first down. The team's fourth play was just a 7-yard gain, yet it maintained possession for a 12-yard gain and a 4-yard gain on two additional plays.

"Whoever wrote it didn't think it through," said Gene Daniels, athletics director of Salem Middle School in Apex.

Mildred Bazemore, chief of the state Department of Public Instruction's test development section, said the question makes sense mathematically and was reviewed thoroughly.

"It has nothing to do with football," Bazemore said. "It has to do with the mathematical concepts that you're studying."

This is a major mistake by the test writers. Technically speaking, it shouldn't matter for the purposes of testing that the team got an extra two plays, because they're not testing what you know about football, they're testing whether you can find the average of something. However, it takes a bunch of very dense people not to realize that the football aspect of the question would come into play. When something doesn't make sense in the context of a question, that makes it very difficult to continue. So, when you're asking about yards gained on six plays when the team would have lost possession after four, a lot of people are going to say, "this does not compute!" or something.

Maybe they're playing some fictional version of football, where you get six plays. I mean, you get three downs in Canadian football, so why doesn't North Carolina football get six downs? Either way, it was a bad question. Poor form, North Carolina. Poor form.

Posted at 08:25 AM | Comments (1)

May 22, 2005

Let the debate begin

I was thinking the other day, what are my ten favorite movie quotes of all time? I've thought about it for awhile, and this is what I've been able to come up with. In order to heighten the humor, I am going to leave these completely out of context. See if you can guess what movie they're from. These are in no particular order. Also, it seems that I favor lines with swear words in them. How rude of me.

1. "He chose... poorly."

2. "Dear Lord, please don't let me fuck up."

3. "Get your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape."

4. "Your best? Losers whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen."

5. "You tossers! You had one job to do!"

6. "We ain't found shit!"

7. "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here. This is the war room."

8. "Talk about the wrong stuff."

9. "Damn you people. Go back to your shanties... This is golf."

10. "Crash and burn, Mav."

Posted at 04:28 PM | Comments (3)

But does it work in real life?

Do you know how sometimes in action movies, there is a scene where one of the characters is pointing a gun at another character? Then, the one who is having the gun pointed at him says something sly like, "that's fine, but if you're going to shoot me, you'd better take the safety off." This causes the person with the gun to get distracted, check the gun, and eventually be disposessed of his weapon.

Now, has anyone ever tried this in an actual situation? If I am ever getting robbed, I think I will give it a whirl. I just hope it doesn't get into my obituary that I tried that.

Posted at 09:06 AM | Comments (0)

May 20, 2005

I never learned this in college

I'd try this, but sadly I'm not the sort of person who can walk around in a red bikini:

A 21-year-old college business major living in this northern New Jersey community has proven a basic lesson of marketing: Sex sells. Courtney Van Dunk posted a bikini-clad picture of herself on eBay about two weeks ago, auctioning off space on her body for advertisers.

The auction ended Thursday with a winning bid from a New Jersey wine retailer offering $11,300 for a month's worth of advertising. Van Dunk, though, says the offer has been retracted, but she's confident that she's made contacts with enough companies to still earn some cash.

Posted at 02:05 PM | Comments (0)

The real WMD

Exactly how gratuitous is the cover of today's NY Post?

For an aging totalitarian despot, he doesn't look so bad. This makes me envision a whole dictator issue of Playgirl. Was Hitler a boxer or a brief man? What did Pol Pot use for support? Maybe we can put Ivan the Terrible's bed pan in the Smithsonian. The possibilities are endless.

Posted at 08:31 AM | Comments (0)

May 18, 2005

I will never talk to another female again

Why, you ask? Because I am going to the theater at midnight tonight for the premiere of the new Star Wars flick. I'm going with a group of ten other people, and scuttlebutt has it that the theater we are going to, which has thirty screens, is completely sold out. There's going to be like 3,000 people at this theater, just for Star Wars. Presumably, a bunch of people are planning to wear costumes. However, my Wookiee suit is at the cleaners.

I'm very interested to see what is going to happen in this movie, but just as interested to see what sort of characters will show up at the theater. When the first new Star Wars movie opened years ago in Lancaster, I was flabberghasted to see the sister of one of my classmates dressed as Princess Leia, in full regalia, on the front page of the paper. I do not plan to be one of these people.

Posted at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)

How is this useful?

Internet types are soiling themselves because of this new Google Maps feature. It's pretty cool, I must admit. And like any new feature, people want to develop a killer app for it.

This is not one of them. Sorry to say, I just do not see how seeing where a taxi cab is can be useful. Unless I am sitting on a park bench with a wi-fi connection and the google map says one is about to come around the corner, there is no way that knowing the exact location of the cab will do me any good.

Posted at 08:17 AM | Comments (2)

May 17, 2005

It's a strange world

It seems to me that one of the trappings of modern society is that there are so many rules that are designed to prevent one thing, but end up creating other ridiculous problems instead. Combined with what I think is the asinine mindset of "rules are rules," we get stories like this one:

Scherr was referring to a requirement that the school’s valedictorian be enrolled in classes by the 20th day of their junior year.

It’s a rule aimed at keeping students from other schools from transferring into Kingwood late in their high school careers to claim one of the coveted top 10 academic spots.

Scherr’s been in the Kingwood school system since kindergarten. But she wasn’t enrolled in her high school on that 20th day of her junior year.

Instead, she was in a treatment facility seeking help for the eating disorder, anorexia nervosa.

“I was sick. That’s part of the disorder,” said Scherr. “It’s a mental disease.”

All I can really say is that I am so lucky that I am not going to elementary school at this time. I would be in jail or an institution or something. Then, when I got out of jail, I'd be sent back to first grade because my incarceration kept me from meeting No Child Left Behind requirements. Then I'd get depressed and make a snarky comment about introducing the principal to my little friend, and then the whole process would start over. Damn fools, they are. Damn fools.

Posted at 01:06 PM | Comments (0)

Can world peace be next?

Now that this has been solved, aspiring observational comics are sure to be the ones that are going hurt the most:

Justice Will Be Served!

CHICAGO, May 16 /PRNewswire/ -- In the spirit of peace, brotherhood and the benefit of all mankind, two Chicago-based companies that are, literally, as legendary as the Chicago-style hot dog, are taking an unprecedented step toward resolving one of the most vexing issues of our time: Why are hot dog and buns packaged in different quantities?

On May 17, 2005, at 11:45 a.m., the presidents of S. Rosen's, produced by Alpha Baking Co. and Vienna Beef, will convene at the James R. Thompson Center at 100 W. Randolph St. in Chicago, for the formal signing of a "piece" treaty promising to forever more package their hot dogs and buns in the same quantity: eight!

Eliminating one of life's annoyances has long been a topic of discussion between the two companies and through countless hours of negotiation, a more or less "formal" accord was struck. Currently, hot dogs are manufactured in packs of eight, and buns are produced in packs of six or twelve. As a result, shoppers must purchase 24 each of hot dogs and buns for an equal number. According to the National Hot Dog and Sausage Council, 837 million packages of hot dogs were sold in 2004, and hot dog sales through supermarkets topped $1.8 billion in 2003.

Long lamented by harried cooks and picnic planners nationwide, and made famous by comedian Steve Martin in 1991's Father of the Bride, the issue of "bunless" hot dogs will be resolved, restoring peace and sanity to meal planners everywhere. By both firm's estimates, more than 2 million buns a year have fallen to the wayside, not to mention the hundreds of hot dogs that may have been abandoned by frankfurter aficionados who refused to eat their dogs without buns.

"All of us at Vienna Beef are thrilled to do our part to make this world a better place, and all we are saying is give 'piece' a chance," said Howard Eirinberg, president of Vienna Beef, Chicago's venerable producer of frankfurters and sausages for more than 100 years. "On behalf of all our employees, management and owners, I promise that Vienna Beef will package our hot dogs in quantities of eight to honor the commitment made by our good friends at Alpha."

"Life is too short not to change the things we can and we MUST work together to give peace, or piece, a chance," says Larry Marcucci, president of Alpha Baking Company, Chicago's premier baker of buns, rolls, bagels and more under the S. Rosen's, MaryAnn, Kreamo, Castle, National, CableCar and Golden Hearth brands. "Eliminating one of the persistent inconsistencies of our time will be something that we all can be very proud of and I personally believe it will be my legacy to my company, the food industry and hot dog lovers everywhere."

The treaty signing ceremony will commence at 11:45 a.m. outside the Thompson Center, on the corner of Randolph and Clark Streets, in Chicago's Loop. During the event, Vienna Beef and S. Rosen's execs will prepare and give away more than 1,000 Chicago-style hot dogs for a suggested $1 donation to the Greater Chicago Food Depository, which distributes more than 40 million pounds of food annually through its network of 600 agencies.

Posted at 08:24 AM | Comments (0)

May 16, 2005

Washington wrap-up

Last weekend was an interesting weekend. As I think I mentioned, I flew into the DC area to screw around with the family. It goes like this: my aunt got this job with a certain government agency, and was in a town called Frederick, MD for the past ten weeks with training. They're all graduating on Tuesday, and so we all came down for this monumental occasion.

The flight there was typical ballyhoo. I left work at 3:50 and got to Midway Airport about 4:30, meaning I had a half hour to get through check-in, security, and onto the plane. I made it, but my bag didn't: I checked in so late, that Southwest Airlines said "fuck it" and left my bag in Chicago for the next plane to BWI. I didn't know this until I landed in Baltimore and watched the baggage retrieval as the same lonely bag rolled by five times, while mine was nowhere to be found.

The flight was uneventful, but wonderful: I had an entire row to myself, which for a person like me is great. What kind of person am I? The kind who doesn't like to sit next to people on airplanes. I whipped out my laptop, stretched out over the seats, and watched a DVD. That may as well be first-class.

On the other hand, the flight was slightly delayed because we had to fly around some storms. I've always wanted to be a pilot, but sometimes I think flying for an airline would suck. While having to fly around a storm is pretty lame, I think the schedules are suckitude as well. For example, I was once on a plane that flew from Buffalo to Chicago to Nashville to Minneapolis, or something like that. I'm thinking, how bad is this for the pilot? I get bent out of shape if I have to go from Lincoln Park to Lakeview to Wicker Park. If I'm the the pilot, I tell those people who want to go to Nashville: "I can drop you off in Memphis, and you can catch the bus. I'm not goin' all the way to Nashville. Do you know how far out of the way that is?" Then, I would get fired.

But back to my suitcase: we decided to leave the airport and come get the bag the next day, as opposed to waiting for the bag then. The main effect this had was that I had no clothing for a whole day. I was not happy, but I can deal.

So, Friday night we roll into Frederick, where we discover that my aunt was blasted, along with 15 of her comrades, at a bar across the parking lot and shopping plaza from her hotel. Needless to say, I soon started drinking too, and did not make it home until 2:30. Good times.

Something else odd happened: I met a girl. It will be interesting to see what happens, as she will be working in Chicago and lives like three miles down the street from me. She's smart and funny and purty, which can be a deadly concotion. But I am already worried about this, because this was all brought about my aunt, who may or may not have been talking me up beforehand. Not only that, my mom was in the place too, and I heard her say something about leaving now to give me "space." I am officially done, because my aunt and my mom now know that I have this girl's telephone number, and will be calling her. This also means I will now be getting constant questions about the status of all this. If there is one thing I do not need, it is my family peppering me with inquiries about whether or not I called her.

In fact, in the car yesterday, my mom actually said to me, "Don't be one of those guys who doesn't call for two years." Two years? What kind of guy doesn't call for two years? Even if you were in the Royal Navy and stationed in the Keeling Islands, you'd be able to get a letter back to Blighty in two years, I'd think. Anyway, now I'm all agitated because the parents know what is up.

But it was good. We talked a bit on Friday, and then I saw her for a little bit on Saturday night. When I said I had to go, she asked for my phone number and she gave me hers. That'd be cool if she wants to see me. I could use a little variety in my life. I don't know if it was the "let's be friends" exchange of numbers or if it was the "take me on a date" exchange of numbers. How can you really tell, anyway? She's supposed to be back Wednesday. Wish me luck, or something.

Now, as some of you know, I had the girlfriend there for a little bit. But that didn't work out. The most annoying thing she did was refuse to go to Chuck E. Cheese, which really, really bothered me. As far as places to refuse to visit, I can't imagine why Chuck E. Cheese would make the list. Yes, I am 25 years old. Also, whenever I looked at her, she would wink at me. That made it hard to concentrate.

While all this was going on, we drove around Washington. We looked at some memorials, including the impressive FDR memorial and the WW2 memorial. I saw the statue of General Sherman, Lancaster's finest, and ate a disgusting but refreshing boiled hot dog.

We went to the Spy Museum, which was very interesting but overflowed with annoying children. One of the exhibits in the spy museum challenged you to crawl into an air duct and observe the people in the room below without making too much noise. Alas, I was followed into the duct by some pre-teen girls who could not be quiet if their life depended on it. After that, I am starting to see why in action movies, it's always the girl who steps on a branch or sneezes and alerts the bad guys. They can't not do it!

Yesterday, we did more driving: looked at Georgetown, the embassies, and then out to Fairfax, where my dear cousin will be attending George Mason University in the fall. That will be a big change for her, coming from the Snow Belt and all.

My flight back was slightly more crowded, and this time I had to share my row with a person. She was nice, didn't bother me, and all was good. There was one surly passenger who chastised a flight attendant during the boarding, but it was overall a pleasant experience.

That was my weekend wrap-up. If you made it this far, congratulations.

Posted at 07:59 AM | Comments (1)

May 13, 2005

Weee!

I mentioned how at the U2 concert Bono had us text message a pledge to his little phone network. Bono just sent me, and I suppose 20,000,000 others, a text message thanking us for the pledge. Awesome!

Posted at 02:44 PM | Comments (0)

Stuck in a moment

As you can probably tell from reading this web site, I idolize Bono. Yesterday I finally saw Bono and the rest of U2 in concert, at the United Center. It was an interesting show. I've never been a fan of shows in gigantic arenas - Bono was but a speck in the distance from where we stood, which was about the farthest away one could be from the stage.

Bono did his typical world peace and debt forgiveness shtick, and he ended the night by having people pledge to work towards peace by sending a text message with your name to a special number. The names were then played on a screen during the encore. I wonder how long it took them to come up with that idea?

I especially enjoyed one particular bit of the show: how, throughout the entire concert, you could see hundreds of glowing lights throughout the arena. They were cell phones, held into the sky to give the person on the other end of the line a short snippet of U2. At times it seemed like every person in the arena was making a phone call like that. Whatever happened to absorbing the moment?

Posted at 07:22 AM | Comments (0)

Use the force

This new Star Wars flick is coming out in a little bit, and it has me pondering an interesting question: suppose that you are going to show somebody all the Star Wars movies for the first time, ever. Which movie are you going to show that person first? Do you start with the so-called Episode I or do you go with Episode IV, which was the original Star Wars movie that came out in the 70's?

Personally, I am going to start with Episode IV. Yes, technically it is the fourth installment, but I am of the opinion that these three newer movies are meant to explain what happens in the three original Star Wars movies, and that if somebody watched Episodes I through III without first seeing the original trilogy, all of the suspense will be lost.

Posted at 07:12 AM | Comments (0)

May 12, 2005

Time for you to get a watch

I hate when people ask me the time. I'll tell you why. It's because there are two basic schools of thought as to telling the time: you can tell the exact time, or you can round it off to the nearest 5. As I write this, it is 8:56 am. If somebody came round and asked me the time, I could say it's 8:56 or 8:55, though I'd probably phrase it as "it's about 8:55."

The reason I don't like to report exactly what it is, is because that makes me seem dorky, or even worse, anal retentive. The only time I think you need to know the exact time is if you are working for NASA and launching a rocket and need to have it in orbit at the exact right moment, or maybe if you are planning an invasion and need to land your landing craft right when the tide is at its lowest. But now we have computers for that.

However, what if the person who is asking the time is dorky or anal retentive? Then they are mad at me for being inaccurate. But, if they are anal retentive and that concerned about the difference between 8:13 and 8:15, they should be having their own watch. Ocassionally I'll be a dick and tell the person who asks me the time, "it's time for you to get a watch."

Posted at 07:55 AM | Comments (0)

May 11, 2005

Hoop dreams

As the hipsters like to say, I heart Slate Magazine. Admittedly, there is a good bit of bauble that I just don't give two hoots about, but they usually have at least one great article a day.

Today, it produces what I think is one of my all-time favorites: the NBA playoffs as an extension of YMCA pickup basketball.

Last week, I figured out how to reduce the NBA playoffs to a human scale. Like most people, my basketball expertise comes from playing pickup basketball. In a pickup game, you don't know anyone's name or background. Since there aren't any uniforms or color commentators, the only way to relive your performance is to seize on easily identifiable traits. I can't believe I had to guard the sweaty guy. Or, I totally crossed over the guy in the Michael Jordan jersey.

If you stare at pro players long enough, they start to look less like superheroes and more like the guys we've all hooped with at the YMCA. Ricky Davis isn't one of the NBA's top bench players. He's that annoying guy who thinks he's the team captain. The cagey old man who backs you down into the paint? You might know him as Chicago's Adrian Griffin. The guy who has more wristbands than points? Ben Wallace.

In the run-up to the NBA Finals, you won't see Steve Nash dish to a guy in jeans, and Ray Allen won't be hounded by a defender who refuses to take his watch off. But here's a list of some of the pickup archetypes you'll see in the next month.

I'm no baller. I've played basketball perhaps fifteen times my whole life. It started when my mom sent me to fifth grade basketball tryouts at Medill Elementary School, where I was promptly cut. I deserved it, because I sucked. However, I thought a grave injustice occured when Ben was also cut. He was a pudgy kid who wasn't the most popular, but he was nailing shots left and right. I said to myself, this kid's good. But he joined me on the discard pile.

So, despite my aversion to hooping - though I would certainly consider learning to play now - I recognize these basketball archetypes from playing pick-up soccer. They're slightly different, but still recognizable: there's the guy who shows up in an actual soccer jersey, but can't pass or shoot worth a damn; there's the mercurial Latino player who tries to dribble through everyone; there's the whiner who thinks everything is a foul; and there's me: the chunky guy who thinks he's Pele but plays in a style more akin to Terry Tate.

Posted at 08:53 AM | Comments (0)

Pretty in pink

I got this pink shirt for my birthday awhile back. Along with the pink shirt, I also received a black tie with pink dots to complete the ensemble. Fashion commentators have been saying pink is in for today's fashionable male, and I am starting to think it's true.

My evidence is this: I've worn the shirt and tie to work twice, and have been complimented on it by three attractive women. That's a ratio of one a half compliments per day, which obliterates my normal compliment rate of none per day. Furthermore, two of those were by strangers: the trainer at the gym, who is about as delectable as one can get; and a random girl on the street by my house who wanted me to take a picture of her and her friends. Ka-pow!

I am going to assume this is probably because it is a pink shirt. Three years ago, showing up in pink would have gotten you a beating Abu-Ghraib style. But now, the pink says, "look at me, I'm confident enough to show up to work in the girliest of colors."

Some women like that. The trainer at the gym, for example, always wears pink running shoes. When I wear a pink shirt, we match. That's about the best "in" a person can have, and I didn't even need to call in Hitch to bail me out.

Posted at 08:19 AM | Comments (1)

May 10, 2005

I'm stunned

Bob Dole's former press secretary wrote in to the Chicago Tribune. He suggests that cable news channels love missing white women because it gets higher ratings than, say, missing Asian men. Waaah?

Note to the news media--with an emphasis on the cable networks: Enough is enough.

Your continual focus on, and reporting of, missing, young, attractive white women not only demeans your profession but is a televised slap in the face to minority mothers and parents the nation over who search for their own missing children with little or no assistance or notice from anyone.

The latest missing woman to dominate the airtime of the cable networks was Jennifer Wilbanks, from Duluth, Ga. Like Dru Sjodin, Chandra Levy and Elizabeth Smart all before her, Wilbanks is young, white and attractive. Wilbanks, as it turned out, ran away of her own volition from her impending marriage. As a Maryland police official told me after Wilbanks turned up in New Mexico, "the media's non-stop focus on the possible abduction of Wilbanks forced the local officials and police departments to spend thousands of dollars they would not otherwise have spent."

I sure do feel bad for this Jennifer Wilbanks lady. Admittedly, she did not choose the best way to express her fear of getting married. Yet I can't believe that there is any way she could have realized that her disappearance would set off the national bonfire that it did. If there's a moral here, it's that you're young, white and female, and want to go missing, make sure it's for a legitimate reason, such as you're been kidnapped or maybe abducted by aliens. CNN and Fox News are going to have your picture all over the place, and it'd be pretty damn embarrasing if somebody finds you in North Dakota with bleached hair gobbling Dolly Madison Donut Gems.

Posted at 01:49 PM | Comments (0)

Buy my CD

I'm really annoyed that nowadays, everyone who releases a music CD says that it's "dropping" on such-and-such a day. For example, Weezer drops a new album today. Dave Matthews Band is dropping an album today, too. What the shizzle?

As far as I know, this can be traced back to Macy Gray, who showed up at the MTV Video Music Awards drunk as hell and a message duct-taped to her dress, noting when her new album "drops."

Ever since then, the music press uses "drops" and much as any other phrase. On the other hand, there was a girl in school with me who was promoting some sort of hip hop group in her spare time. (I didn't really try to delve in the details.) Whenever she mentioned her proteges, she would invariable say they were dropping a new single, new album, or, most famously, a press release.

This has to stop. The thing to me that is most annoying about dropping an album is that that is not what happens at all. These albums are like six months old by the time they are sent to the public, while dropping something is fairly instantaneous. If the band goes into the studio, whips out some song and then sends it all over the world in 30 minutes, THAT might count as dropping.

Instead of "dropping," I think we should convey something a little more like the real thing. My suggestions are "roll," "unearth," and "reveal." I think some of these terms are used every now and then, but they take a back seat to the ubiquitous stop. Let's change it, folks!

Posted at 10:52 AM | Comments (1)

May 09, 2005

Do you want to go the gun show?

http://www.sparesomechange.com/funny/can.asp?text=...This+gun+show!

That's all I got. See if you can do better!

Posted at 11:48 AM | Comments (0)

May 06, 2005

My old Kentucky home

Have a good weekend, everyone. I'll be here!

Posted at 07:12 AM | Comments (1)

May 05, 2005

WTF?

For some reason, every day I read the Daily Quickie on ESPN, though I often disagree with writer Dan Shanoff's opinions, especially when he dubs seemingly one sporting event per month the "greatest x ever." Without a doubt, he has some good analysis, but other times I just have to shake my head.

This is one of those days. I have no hard numbers, but Shanoff has used the word "schadenfreude" at least three times in the past week to describe how sports fans feel about the NY Yankees and their terrible start to the season.

The word, which is terribly difficult to spell, means this according to Merriam-Webster:

Main Entry: scha·den·freu·de
Pronunciation: 'shä-d&n-"froi-d&
Function: noun
Usage: often capitalized
Etymology: German, from Schaden damage + Freude joy
: enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others

This is a great word, but it is not one that you want to bust out too often. We all love to see the Yankees lose. What I don't like to see is somebody hammering a word like that over and over again. It doesn't matter that there is no direct English equivalent. It's unnecessary, as if to say, "look at me, I'm using a foreign word." To add to the messiness, Shanoff insists on italicizing the word.

Now, on the other hand, the Quickie did tip me off to something amazing: Marquette, after having a big stink about their Native American mascot, the Warrior, changed their names to the Golden Eagles. Nobody liked that, so yesterday they announced their new nickname: The Gold. Huh?

Personally, I don't think Native American nicknames are a particularly good thing, but I don't think they're as inflammatory and offensive as many people make them out to be. For example, there is controversy at the University of Illinois because they are named after an Indian tribe, the Illini. I don't think that is offensive, but I would think that the mascot, a college student dressed as a stereotypical Indian, is at the very least unwise.

But back to Marquette. The Gold? What the hell is that all about? This is the best they could come up with? I mean, everyone knows Marquette sucks anyway, but I thought they could have been a little more clever than that!

Posted at 10:19 AM | Comments (1)

But it was an unjust law

Well folks, I am officially over one thousand posts on this web site. Can you believe that? 99% of them are nothing but distilled junk, but the point is I did it. Good for me, and good for you for coming back to read. All five of you, that is. Ho ho ho.

Anyhow, this story made me laugh. I've never smuggled anyone over the border, but this doesn't seem like the best way to do it:

A Jesuit priest who teaches English classes at Canisius College has been arrested for trying to smuggle a deported Irishman into the United States, customs officials said Wednesday.

The Rev. James Pribeck, 43, an assistant professor, is accused of trying to sneak his friend, James Daly, 48, across the Canadian border in northern New York in a vehicle on Sunday afternoon.

Pribeck has been charged with felony alien smuggling, while Daly has been charged with felony re-entry after deportation.

Posted at 08:38 AM | Comments (0)

What's best for the company?

Does anyone work in an office where the employees still refer to each other by the last name? I don't mean "Mr. Smith," I mean plain ol' "Smith."

As in, "Smith, where's that report?"

I'm wondering because it seems old-fashioned in a funny retro kind of way. If I ever start a business, I am going to call all my employees by their last name.

"Johnson, I need that inventory ASAP! Where's McGillicuddy? Find Griggs, tell him I need to see him." Tee-hee!

Posted at 07:33 AM | Comments (0)

May 04, 2005

Dilemma

I am having the most annoying problem recently. I have this pair of pants, and I can't tell if they are a dark navy blue or black. Even now, I am looking right at the pants - well, when I am not looking at what I am typing - and I have no idea. I'm treating them as a pair of black pants today, and they don't look grossly mismatched with my blackish tie and black shoes. Does that mean they're actually black? At this point, I want to say they are blue-tinted black pants.

What would solve this problem is if the manufacturer subtly hinted somewhere on the pants what color they were. Maybe on the label: couldn't they put in the washing directions something like "wash only with other black clothes"? Is that too much to ask?

I have problems with clothes all the time, though. Just yesterday I was at the gym, and realized that I had left my shorts at home. I had everything else. I sat in the locker room with the naked old guys for awhile before deciding that I would buy a pair of shorts from the gym store. This would be simple enough, except the men's and women's clothes are on the same rack. I had no idea what I was buying, and resorted to looking at the tags (what else?) for hints as to whether they were designed for boys or girls. Eventually I decided the pair of shorts I picked out were for men, and purchased them. My greatest fear is that the cashier would call me out on it and ridicule me for buying girls' shorts, but this did not happen.

Posted at 09:48 AM | Comments (1)

Enjoy the show

What's with people filing false advertising claims against movie theaters because advertisements and previews make the actual movie start fifteen minutes after the listed time? This is the most asinine thing I have ever heard. I only have anecdotal evidence to back this up, but it seems to me that the number of advertisements and such have gotten bigger in the past few years.

Nevertheless, what's the big deal? Do they have somewhere to be that the fifteen minutes of advertising are going to make you late? Do they not know about the previews before a movie? Theaters have to make money. Advertising is a good way to make money. If everyone wants to get rid of advertising, be prepared for people to start making $1 an hour. I'd rather have the advertisement before the movie than in the middle.

The start times in the newspaper are the start of the show, and previews are part of the show. If somebody desperately wants to avoid the advertising, show up ten minutes after the start time. But be prepared to have nowhere to sit.

Posted at 08:06 AM | Comments (0)

May 03, 2005

He's gotta eat it

This disgusting story reminds me of a life-long dream of mine:

CLEARFIELD, Pa. - The burger war is growing. Literally. Denny's Beer Barrel Pub, which lost its crown as the home of the world's biggest burger earlier this year, is now offering a new burger that weighs a whopping 15 pounds.

Dubbed the Beer Barrel Belly Buster, the burger comes with 10.5 pounds of ground beef, 25 slices of cheese, a head of lettuce, three tomatoes, two onions, a cup-and-a-half each of mayonnaise, relish, ketchup, mustard and banana peppers — and a bun.

Fifteen pounds! Crimony! I wouldn't even want to think of how anybody could possibly eat all that. There's going to be some nasty digestive problems for whoever attempts it.

However, despite the ugliness of such a thing, wouldn't that be cool? I see it in movies all the time - The Great Outdoors comes to mind - where an inky dink restaurant has a gigantic steak for sale, and whoever can eat it gets the steak for free and some sort of commemorative t-shirt.

It has always been my dream to try that. I do not know how much I could eat, and I can't say I've ever tried. I've pigged out on many an occasion, but never to see how much I could gobble without getting sick. I think I could eat five pounds of steak without a sweat, but I don't know if that's enough to get me any free stuff.

Posted at 07:58 AM | Comments (1)

May 01, 2005

T-shirt time

It was eons ago that I said I would start taking pictures of my vast collection of t-shirts and telling the stories about how I acquired them. Here's number 2 in the series, meaning number three should arrive sometime in April 2006.

This shirt has an interesting story. About five years ago, the University of Dayton Arena was celebrating its 30th anniversary, and to commemorate the event, the UD athletic department named an All-Arena Team. The All-Arena Team was made up of the greatest men's and women's basketball players to play for the Flyers at UD Arena. Those guys were no slouches, either: they took the dominant UCLA teams of the early 70's to double OT in the NCAA Tournament.

At this time, I was toiling away as Rudy Flyer at the women's basketball games, wherein children beat me mercilessly, because guys in costumes don't feel pain.

My refuge during those games was the marketing office, because that was one of the few places I could go where nobody important would see me without the head. During those breaks, I would often liberate the promotional giveaways that were meant to be handed to those very same kids who were punching me on the kidneys.

The All-Arena Team shirt was one such item, and it is extra important because they weren't actually given to any fans. The shirt was worn only by members of the All-Arena Team, and no one else. So, I and about twenty former UD basketball players are walking around with this t-shirt. It's quite a lovely shirt, isn't it?

Posted at 07:59 PM | Comments (0)

Take it outside

At my very core, I am a nerd. A big, stinking nerd. I think most of you know that. I try to hide it some times, but that doesn't often last too long.

For the longest time, my favorite thing was to visit used book stores. Books feed my nerdiness. My fourteen year old self would wet his pants if he lived in Chicago, because there are about a hundred used book stores in the city. Whenever we went to Cincinnati, I always made my family go to the Ohio Book Store, which was the only used book store in the state that I knew about.

This has a lot to do with my grandfather, who filled the entire basement of his house with his own personal library. He had books about everything by everyone. Legend has it, he read every one. When he died, we took what we wanted and the rest were donated to a store in Buffalo. The books filled so many boxes that we had to make multiple trips. My dad has a similar library in his basement, and I am now accumulating one of my own.

Today, I was peddling along Clark Street when I spied The Bookman's Corner, which I go by way too often to make having visited it only once a crime. I stopped, locked up the bicycle, and was transported back to a different time. Books were stacked to the ceiling, too high for me to reach, arranged haphazardly by category so that you had no idea what you would find. Eventually I found the history category, and spent a good half hour browsing around until I settled for an anthology of WW2 newspaper correspondent articles for the digusting price of $2.18. (Such as this one.)

Pardon me for getting all nostalgic there, because that wasn't even what I meant to write about. When I entered the store, a small handwritten sign sternly warned, "please take all phone conversations outside." This was a reasonable rule for a book store, and I usually endorse such things.

However, the shopkeeper was setting a very bad example. He was talking very loudly to a customer, and the narrow corridors of the store only amplified the noise. His conversation partner was the loud one, and I could not help but notice the irony of the topic: obnoxious children on airplanes, trains, and other enclosed public places. Some people are simply loud talkers - I can't necessarily fault somebody for that.

However, I feel that a loud face-to-face conversation is as rude as a loud mobile phone conversation. The topic was banal of the highest nature, between two friends in a closed space. It must disturb the other customers. Isn't that the essence of the reason for banning phone conversations?

Posted at 05:39 PM | Comments (0)