I figure, I need about 5025 miles on the bike to get in shape. It's been a long time. So this morning, I mowed the lawn, pulled one of my bikes out of the garage, hosed it down real good, pumped up the tyres (tires) to about 9 bars (130 psi), stretched the twin 6 clothing to its absolute limit and went for a ride.
At first it was like riding a bike. I felt like I remembered how to do it. I coasted down the driveway, down the street, down through memorial park, up through UNO. Uh oh. Up seemed a little too hard. Oh well. Through elmwood. "FORE!!" And up onto the trail, going south. At this point, I realized I had a pretty good tail wind, since I was going 23 without much effort and haven't been on a bike for several months. I felt good. Except for my hands. And my legs. And my bottom (I say shyly while covering my mouth to suppress a giggle). I settled in at around 25 miles an hour and cruised to the place where I turn around (12.5 miles). Then I spun into the headwind at 12 or 13. nice. My legs now felt really sore. My hands couldn't get comfortable. My golf clubs were in the trunk of my car all lonely. After much effort, I made it home, barely surviving up the hills.
So, I'm not quite ready to hang with the skinnys. Maybe tomorrow.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
This morning reminded me of a Rolling Stones concert I never went to
So I'm driving to work this morning, minding my own business, listening to Mike and Mike talk about which of them should throw out the first pitch next time they're invited and if only one is allowed. My thoughts are wandering the way they always do when your driving 30 minutes and there's nothin' much to do. I'm thinking about how much fun it is to swing a golf club. The bills I need to pay. The fact that I should get my tags for my license plates since they'll be expired by Monday.
Anyway, the stretch of road I was on had a posted speed limit of 40 MPH. I basically never speed, unless I'm on the interstate. I'll go with the obligitory 5-10 over. So I'm cruising along at 40. Mike and Mike agree that Golick should be the one to throw the pitch. Just then, I hear the rumbling of a motorcycle. It comes whizzing past, weaving in and out through the traffic. It was loud. It was moving at least 60 mph. It was probably a Harley. I didn't really see. What I did see was the jacket the rider had on. It said "Hells Angels Ne***" or something. The location was obscured by the back of the bike seat. I was surprised. I didn't know they still had "Hells Angels".
I was kind of entertained by that. I hadn't thought about this group of misfits since I saw the "Starsky and Hutch" movie. There weren't Hells angels in it, but there was some sort of Bike Club that was supposed to be for toughs.
There was also this Charlie Sheen movie where he was a cop who was deep undercover in some outlaw bike gang.
Recap of my wandering thoughts this morning:
"I think I should throw the first pitch, because people would be more enter..."
"Let's see, Pay the daycare, U.P. tuition, get new car registra - What the - Hells Angels, Ne***? Wow. I didn't know they still had those. Maybe it's his dad's jacket. No. No one would wear one of those unless they "earned" it."
I wondered how you get in. Who do you contact? Do they have a web site? If I was to guess based on what I remember from Starsky and Hutch and that one Charlie Sheen movie. I'd say first of all, you have to ride your motorcycle to some shady saloon on the outskirts of town. It is very important that the saloon be made of wood. It must have a lot of worn out paint advertising on the building. Of course there must be several Harley Davidson motorcycles lined up out front. I don't think you'd be doing yourself any favors if you were recently bathed either. It might not be the case anymore, but I believe a couple of decades ago, it wouldn't hurt to have a red bandanna tied around one of your boots.
Once you enter the bar, the worst thing you can do is anything other than walk solemnly to the bar and order a beer. This is one thing you cannot get wrong. Do not order a Budweiser, a Miller, or any other specific brand. You order a beer and take the 8 ounce draw you're given. If there are no women in the bar you might be in trouble. You will probably have to finish your beer and get out of there before someone starts talking to you. But don't worry, there's always a woman in the bar. She's currently being harassed by the biggest guy in there. The leader of the gang. Now all you have to do is pick a fight with him. This is not optional. The Hells Angels are currently looking for troublemakers. They don't care if they kick the shit out of you or vice versa, but somebody's getting a whoopin'.
The best way to pick a fight with the leader of the Hells Angels is to simply notice that he's being kind of rough with "The Lady". A subtle turn in the direction of the disturbance and then a quick glance back down at your beer should be enough.
"Something on your mind, mister?" and congratulations, your application is currently being processed! It's all down hill from here. Just mop up the floor with the guy and bingo, not only are you in the club, you're their new leader.
And that woman you protected? She'll welcome you aboard with a nice slap in the face. Even though it will sting tremendously, it is very important at this point that you don't cry. A wry smile and a turn to finish the last gulp of your beer is the next step to full-fledged Hell's Angelhood. So finish that beer in one gulp, and head for the door.
"Say hold up mister,"
Stop. Turn slowly to face whoever.
"I ain't never seen anybody put a whoopin on ol' Dean like 'at. Who the hell are you?"
"Just passin through. Stopped in to get a drink. That's all"
"We could use a guy like you. No shit. Why don't you ride with us."
"Not much of a joiner"
"Hell, none of us are. That's what this is. A club of loners."
"What would Dean say about it?"
"Dean ain't gonna say shit, is you Dean?"
"uhg"
"Suppose I was to ride with you all on say a probationary basis. What do you guys do?"
"Hunt vampires, mostly"
"I'm in"
(to be continued. or not)
Anyway, the stretch of road I was on had a posted speed limit of 40 MPH. I basically never speed, unless I'm on the interstate. I'll go with the obligitory 5-10 over. So I'm cruising along at 40. Mike and Mike agree that Golick should be the one to throw the pitch. Just then, I hear the rumbling of a motorcycle. It comes whizzing past, weaving in and out through the traffic. It was loud. It was moving at least 60 mph. It was probably a Harley. I didn't really see. What I did see was the jacket the rider had on. It said "Hells Angels Ne***" or something. The location was obscured by the back of the bike seat. I was surprised. I didn't know they still had "Hells Angels".
I was kind of entertained by that. I hadn't thought about this group of misfits since I saw the "Starsky and Hutch" movie. There weren't Hells angels in it, but there was some sort of Bike Club that was supposed to be for toughs.
There was also this Charlie Sheen movie where he was a cop who was deep undercover in some outlaw bike gang.
Recap of my wandering thoughts this morning:
"I think I should throw the first pitch, because people would be more enter..."
"Let's see, Pay the daycare, U.P. tuition, get new car registra - What the - Hells Angels, Ne***? Wow. I didn't know they still had those. Maybe it's his dad's jacket. No. No one would wear one of those unless they "earned" it."
I wondered how you get in. Who do you contact? Do they have a web site? If I was to guess based on what I remember from Starsky and Hutch and that one Charlie Sheen movie. I'd say first of all, you have to ride your motorcycle to some shady saloon on the outskirts of town. It is very important that the saloon be made of wood. It must have a lot of worn out paint advertising on the building. Of course there must be several Harley Davidson motorcycles lined up out front. I don't think you'd be doing yourself any favors if you were recently bathed either. It might not be the case anymore, but I believe a couple of decades ago, it wouldn't hurt to have a red bandanna tied around one of your boots.
Once you enter the bar, the worst thing you can do is anything other than walk solemnly to the bar and order a beer. This is one thing you cannot get wrong. Do not order a Budweiser, a Miller, or any other specific brand. You order a beer and take the 8 ounce draw you're given. If there are no women in the bar you might be in trouble. You will probably have to finish your beer and get out of there before someone starts talking to you. But don't worry, there's always a woman in the bar. She's currently being harassed by the biggest guy in there. The leader of the gang. Now all you have to do is pick a fight with him. This is not optional. The Hells Angels are currently looking for troublemakers. They don't care if they kick the shit out of you or vice versa, but somebody's getting a whoopin'.
The best way to pick a fight with the leader of the Hells Angels is to simply notice that he's being kind of rough with "The Lady". A subtle turn in the direction of the disturbance and then a quick glance back down at your beer should be enough.
"Something on your mind, mister?" and congratulations, your application is currently being processed! It's all down hill from here. Just mop up the floor with the guy and bingo, not only are you in the club, you're their new leader.
And that woman you protected? She'll welcome you aboard with a nice slap in the face. Even though it will sting tremendously, it is very important at this point that you don't cry. A wry smile and a turn to finish the last gulp of your beer is the next step to full-fledged Hell's Angelhood. So finish that beer in one gulp, and head for the door.
"Say hold up mister,"
Stop. Turn slowly to face whoever.
"I ain't never seen anybody put a whoopin on ol' Dean like 'at. Who the hell are you?"
"Just passin through. Stopped in to get a drink. That's all"
"We could use a guy like you. No shit. Why don't you ride with us."
"Not much of a joiner"
"Hell, none of us are. That's what this is. A club of loners."
"What would Dean say about it?"
"Dean ain't gonna say shit, is you Dean?"
"uhg"
"Suppose I was to ride with you all on say a probationary basis. What do you guys do?"
"Hunt vampires, mostly"
"I'm in"
(to be continued. or not)
Friday, May 22, 2009
The New Star Trek Movie Beams Up Some Serious Walking Around Cash
Spoiler Alert: If you have seen the movie, you may not want to read this review. I haven’t seen the movie but I’ve heard it’s really really good.
At last. The new star trek movie has arrived. I have been eagerly anticipating this event for months. It has been all I could think about day and night. I haven’t groomed. I haven’t bathed. The idea of seeing the crew of star trek one last time before the next sequel has got me all giddy.
I know very little about it other than my brother said it was really good. He’s usually pretty good about that. I still don’t get “Unbreakable”, but otherwise we like pretty much the same movies. “Ooh, I’m made of glass and you’re afraid of water! Ooh.” Whatever. Stupid movie (Unbreakable).
I’ve seen some commercials for it (Star Trek: Back to the First Generation). It kind of looks like “Starship Troopers” or something. I hope it’s as good as that movie! I think Leonard Nimoy is in the new movie. Wow. That doesn’t seem pathetic at all. Maybe he’s in it kind of like the way Paul “Michael” Glazer and David Soul were in the “Starsky and Hutch” movie. I bet William Shatner is in it too. Probably, the new Kirk wrecks the enterprise chasing down a bad alien or something and the new Spock buys the original Enterprise from the old Kirk - reluctant to give up the keys.
Yeah, that’s probably what happens. Then Probably Old Kirk and New Kirk sit out on the balcony, smoking Cigars, bragging about conquests or asking each other’s permission to bang some chick or something.
Warning: The following is what I know about the plot from the commercials and the way I remember stuff people said about it. And probably some stand up comedy routines from decades ago.
So the story begins introducing us to an ornery little Jimmy Kirk in the sleepy little town of Ottumwa, Iowa. It is clear early on that he’s got a taste for adventure. Constantly getting into Mr. Wilson’s flower bed and tracking mud on his mother’s nice clean kitchen floor. He’s incorrigible!
We also get to see Spocky. A four year old half/Vulcan child. He struggles internally with being different than the others. Oh big shock there. I struggle internally with thinking that humans and Vulcans have compatible DNA. There’s probably some explanation in some book somewhere, but it’s not all that interesting to me.
It is in high school at a Halloween party, that we find out Captain (Of the football team) James T. Kirk has a thing for green chicks. He meets a hot green chick (thinking she’s dressed up for Halloween). Next, we see classic Jim, strapping his boots back on. That’s when he realizes this girl really is green and boom, off come the boots!
The movie is well written. The characters are directed to be a sort of tribute to the originals. And that guy from "Shaun of the Dead" plays Scotty. Well that’s about all I know about it. That makes me want to go see it. Or at least wait for Blu-Ray (which was my nickname in college).
At last. The new star trek movie has arrived. I have been eagerly anticipating this event for months. It has been all I could think about day and night. I haven’t groomed. I haven’t bathed. The idea of seeing the crew of star trek one last time before the next sequel has got me all giddy.
I know very little about it other than my brother said it was really good. He’s usually pretty good about that. I still don’t get “Unbreakable”, but otherwise we like pretty much the same movies. “Ooh, I’m made of glass and you’re afraid of water! Ooh.” Whatever. Stupid movie (Unbreakable).
I’ve seen some commercials for it (Star Trek: Back to the First Generation). It kind of looks like “Starship Troopers” or something. I hope it’s as good as that movie! I think Leonard Nimoy is in the new movie. Wow. That doesn’t seem pathetic at all. Maybe he’s in it kind of like the way Paul “Michael” Glazer and David Soul were in the “Starsky and Hutch” movie. I bet William Shatner is in it too. Probably, the new Kirk wrecks the enterprise chasing down a bad alien or something and the new Spock buys the original Enterprise from the old Kirk - reluctant to give up the keys.
Yeah, that’s probably what happens. Then Probably Old Kirk and New Kirk sit out on the balcony, smoking Cigars, bragging about conquests or asking each other’s permission to bang some chick or something.
Warning: The following is what I know about the plot from the commercials and the way I remember stuff people said about it. And probably some stand up comedy routines from decades ago.
So the story begins introducing us to an ornery little Jimmy Kirk in the sleepy little town of Ottumwa, Iowa. It is clear early on that he’s got a taste for adventure. Constantly getting into Mr. Wilson’s flower bed and tracking mud on his mother’s nice clean kitchen floor. He’s incorrigible!
We also get to see Spocky. A four year old half/Vulcan child. He struggles internally with being different than the others. Oh big shock there. I struggle internally with thinking that humans and Vulcans have compatible DNA. There’s probably some explanation in some book somewhere, but it’s not all that interesting to me.
It is in high school at a Halloween party, that we find out Captain (Of the football team) James T. Kirk has a thing for green chicks. He meets a hot green chick (thinking she’s dressed up for Halloween). Next, we see classic Jim, strapping his boots back on. That’s when he realizes this girl really is green and boom, off come the boots!
The movie is well written. The characters are directed to be a sort of tribute to the originals. And that guy from "Shaun of the Dead" plays Scotty. Well that’s about all I know about it. That makes me want to go see it. Or at least wait for Blu-Ray (which was my nickname in college).
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Mmm … Marketing
Tuesday afternoon I decided to eat lunch in the cafeteria at work. Each day, a different vendor sets up shop and doles out somewhat warm food from the menu. There is no allowance in the cafeteria for hot plates or ovens or anything, so the vendor must either prepare everything beforehand or cook it in the parking lot and bring it in to the “kitchen”.
Tuesday, the vendor was DJ’s Dugout. They’re not any better or worse than any of the other vendors. I was in a training class and did not want to go out to lunch so I just needed to grab something. I decided on a burrito. DJ’s is not a Mexican place or anything, but they had burritos. Well, I thought they did. I saw somebody in front of me paying for what I mistook to be a burrito. So that’s what I tried to order.
“You?” said the DJ’s Customer service representative, pointing at me indicating it was my turn to order.
“I would like a burrito, please” confidence spilling into my tone. See, I rarely eat at the cafeteria, so I don’t have the routine down. I feel foolish, because some of those people in line seem to not only know how it works, but they actually are on a first name basis with several of the crew. One thing I don’t want to do is slow down the line. My fellow cafeteria brethren are hungry. They don’t need me getting in the way. I am desperately trying to make this all go as smooth as possible.
“Huh?” questioned my salesperson.
Uh oh. I did something wrong. I hear whispering behind me. Tongue clicking. I sense eye-rolling.
Um, “A beef burrito?” all confidence gone. Maybe “Huh” meant I had to specify whether I wanted chicken or beef. Didn’t I just see a burrito leaving the cashier area? I’m certain of it. Actually, I watched them make it.
Quickly I look to the wall on the left where the menu is kept. A quick scan reveals no burrito. What did I do wrong? I’m sweating now. Just about to panic and order a cheeseburger when I see it. There’s an item listed on their menu as “Taco Salad Wrap”.
Of course. How could I have been so foolish? I know if I worked at DJ’s and we had “Taco Salad Wraps” and somebody ordered a burrito, I’d be like, “Huh?”
Taco Salads were a great invention. The exact same ingredients as a taco, but with proportionally more lettuce and a big greasy fried bowl. Yum. The problem with Tacos is that they are not considered healthy. Even though a taco salad is roughly 1000 more calories than a taco, it has salad in its name, so it’s guilt-free eating.
But what’s healthier than a burrito, besides just about anything? A wrap, of course. Wraps are healthier than bread, so wraps are healthy. Looking back on it, I should thank DJ’s for their health consciousness. Had they just given me a burrito, the self-loathing would have lasted until dinner time. But no. Not only did I have just a salad for lunch, I had it in the form of a heart friendly wrap.
How to make a healthy alternative to burritos that’ll keep them coming back (Taco Salad Wrap):
One 12” Tortilla (call it a wrap to live longer)
½ pound ground beef with taco seasoning in it.
½ cup diced tomatoes
2 cups Cheddar cheese
¾ cup lettuce (shredded, like your abs will soon be)
Some sliced olives (optional)
A crap load of sour cream.
Carefully shove all ingredients onto a tortilla and roll that sucker* up. Then enjoy while contemplating getting into that old bathing suit.
* I'm thinking "Bad boy" might have been a better word choice here than "sucker". Oh well.
Tuesday, the vendor was DJ’s Dugout. They’re not any better or worse than any of the other vendors. I was in a training class and did not want to go out to lunch so I just needed to grab something. I decided on a burrito. DJ’s is not a Mexican place or anything, but they had burritos. Well, I thought they did. I saw somebody in front of me paying for what I mistook to be a burrito. So that’s what I tried to order.
“You?” said the DJ’s Customer service representative, pointing at me indicating it was my turn to order.
“I would like a burrito, please” confidence spilling into my tone. See, I rarely eat at the cafeteria, so I don’t have the routine down. I feel foolish, because some of those people in line seem to not only know how it works, but they actually are on a first name basis with several of the crew. One thing I don’t want to do is slow down the line. My fellow cafeteria brethren are hungry. They don’t need me getting in the way. I am desperately trying to make this all go as smooth as possible.
“Huh?” questioned my salesperson.
Uh oh. I did something wrong. I hear whispering behind me. Tongue clicking. I sense eye-rolling.
Um, “A beef burrito?” all confidence gone. Maybe “Huh” meant I had to specify whether I wanted chicken or beef. Didn’t I just see a burrito leaving the cashier area? I’m certain of it. Actually, I watched them make it.
Quickly I look to the wall on the left where the menu is kept. A quick scan reveals no burrito. What did I do wrong? I’m sweating now. Just about to panic and order a cheeseburger when I see it. There’s an item listed on their menu as “Taco Salad Wrap”.
Of course. How could I have been so foolish? I know if I worked at DJ’s and we had “Taco Salad Wraps” and somebody ordered a burrito, I’d be like, “Huh?”
Taco Salads were a great invention. The exact same ingredients as a taco, but with proportionally more lettuce and a big greasy fried bowl. Yum. The problem with Tacos is that they are not considered healthy. Even though a taco salad is roughly 1000 more calories than a taco, it has salad in its name, so it’s guilt-free eating.
But what’s healthier than a burrito, besides just about anything? A wrap, of course. Wraps are healthier than bread, so wraps are healthy. Looking back on it, I should thank DJ’s for their health consciousness. Had they just given me a burrito, the self-loathing would have lasted until dinner time. But no. Not only did I have just a salad for lunch, I had it in the form of a heart friendly wrap.
How to make a healthy alternative to burritos that’ll keep them coming back (Taco Salad Wrap):
One 12” Tortilla (call it a wrap to live longer)
½ pound ground beef with taco seasoning in it.
½ cup diced tomatoes
2 cups Cheddar cheese
¾ cup lettuce (shredded, like your abs will soon be)
Some sliced olives (optional)
A crap load of sour cream.
Carefully shove all ingredients onto a tortilla and roll that sucker* up. Then enjoy while contemplating getting into that old bathing suit.
* I'm thinking "Bad boy" might have been a better word choice here than "sucker". Oh well.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The Clever Trick by Chick publications
Christian: Do you know where you’ll be after you die?
Filthy Sinner: Well, I’m not sure it matters, since, by definition, I’ll be dead.
But presumably, very close to wherever I was just before I died.
Christian: Oh, it matters brother.
Filthy Sinner: Wait. Are you talking all that Bible Junk? Well, that’s ok, I
don’t really believe in all that stuff.
Christian: Oh man, you’ve fallen for Satan’s cleverest little trick.
Filthy Sinner: Huh?
Christian: It’s true. Satan knows that if he can get you to not even believe
in his existence, he wins.
Filthy Sinner: Really? Tell me more.
Christian: Oh yeah, see the “Bible Junk” you mention tells us that if you come
to Jesus, he will in no wise cast you out.
Filthy Sinner: What does “in no wise” mean?
Christian: Not.
Filthy Sinner: Oh. Why don’t they just say “not”. Or why don’t they just
say “Thou shalt in no wise commit adultery.” See, there are too
many inconsistencies in the Bible.
Christian: Well, first of all, brother, that’s from the “old testament”. And
second of all, I find it interesting that you go straight to the
adultery one.
Filthy Sinner: Well, I’m in no wise going to covet my neighbor’s ass. I got that one all under control.
Christian: Pride cometh before a fall.
Filthy Sinner: You talk funny. What’s that mean.
Christian: I don’t know. We just say it a lot at church. Sounds pretty cool, huh?
Filthy Sinner: Yea, it sounds all royal and stuff. So what’s this clever Satan thing again?
Christian: Satan tries to convince you that he doesn’t exist. If he can do that, he might be able to convince you that there is no god. Then you won’t be born again. Then you’ll burn in hell for all of eternity for believing the lie of Satan.
[ image: Ghandi, Hitler, Mohamed, Tevye very sorry and in great misery for their transgression of not being Christians – or not very good ones, in the case of Hitler ]
Filthy Sinner: Woah there, Moses. Slow down a bit. Boop Boop Boop. What do you mean Satan tries to convince me? How? Do I talk to him and stuff? I don’t think so. And seriously dude, Ghandi?
Christian: You know how like, a lot of times, you sit around thinking about stuff that isn’t in line with the word of god?
Filthy Sinner: No.
Christian: Well, that’s actually Satan’s voice.
Filthy Sinner: No it isn’t. Like I sit around thinking to myself in some gravelly, deep Heavy Metal voice.
Christian: If it’s not from God, It’s from Satan.
Filthy Sinner: I thought God created everything. And by the way, that Satan trick thing isn’t really all that clever.
Christian: Oh Yeah. Never mind. I was just messing with you.
Filthy Sinner: Maybe that’s your clever little trick.
Christian: Remember. The wages (wage) of sin is “death”. But after taxes it comes out to about “Don’t feel well. Better lie down.”
Filthy Sinner: So are you saying that whenever I get sick, it’s because of payment for some sin after taxes?
Christian: More or less.
Filthy Sinner: So where does the tax go to? Roads? Health care? It doesn’t make any sense.
Christian: The lord moves in mysterious ways.
Filthy Sinner: Yeah, ok. That clears it up. Where do I sign?
Christian: Sarcasm is the natural language of the devil.
Filthy Sinner: Where do you get this stuff?
Christain &
Filthy Sinner: Ooh! Look! A vampire! Aaaah! Run!
[ Crunch, rip, snap, slurp ]
Filthy Sinner: Well, I’m not sure it matters, since, by definition, I’ll be dead.
But presumably, very close to wherever I was just before I died.
Christian: Oh, it matters brother.
Filthy Sinner: Wait. Are you talking all that Bible Junk? Well, that’s ok, I
don’t really believe in all that stuff.
Christian: Oh man, you’ve fallen for Satan’s cleverest little trick.
Filthy Sinner: Huh?
Christian: It’s true. Satan knows that if he can get you to not even believe
in his existence, he wins.
Filthy Sinner: Really? Tell me more.
Christian: Oh yeah, see the “Bible Junk” you mention tells us that if you come
to Jesus, he will in no wise cast you out.
Filthy Sinner: What does “in no wise” mean?
Christian: Not.
Filthy Sinner: Oh. Why don’t they just say “not”. Or why don’t they just
say “Thou shalt in no wise commit adultery.” See, there are too
many inconsistencies in the Bible.
Christian: Well, first of all, brother, that’s from the “old testament”. And
second of all, I find it interesting that you go straight to the
adultery one.
Filthy Sinner: Well, I’m in no wise going to covet my neighbor’s ass. I got that one all under control.
Christian: Pride cometh before a fall.
Filthy Sinner: You talk funny. What’s that mean.
Christian: I don’t know. We just say it a lot at church. Sounds pretty cool, huh?
Filthy Sinner: Yea, it sounds all royal and stuff. So what’s this clever Satan thing again?
Christian: Satan tries to convince you that he doesn’t exist. If he can do that, he might be able to convince you that there is no god. Then you won’t be born again. Then you’ll burn in hell for all of eternity for believing the lie of Satan.
[ image: Ghandi, Hitler, Mohamed, Tevye very sorry and in great misery for their transgression of not being Christians – or not very good ones, in the case of Hitler ]
Filthy Sinner: Woah there, Moses. Slow down a bit. Boop Boop Boop. What do you mean Satan tries to convince me? How? Do I talk to him and stuff? I don’t think so. And seriously dude, Ghandi?
Christian: You know how like, a lot of times, you sit around thinking about stuff that isn’t in line with the word of god?
Filthy Sinner: No.
Christian: Well, that’s actually Satan’s voice.
Filthy Sinner: No it isn’t. Like I sit around thinking to myself in some gravelly, deep Heavy Metal voice.
Christian: If it’s not from God, It’s from Satan.
Filthy Sinner: I thought God created everything. And by the way, that Satan trick thing isn’t really all that clever.
Christian: Oh Yeah. Never mind. I was just messing with you.
Filthy Sinner: Maybe that’s your clever little trick.
Christian: Remember. The wages (wage) of sin is “death”. But after taxes it comes out to about “Don’t feel well. Better lie down.”
Filthy Sinner: So are you saying that whenever I get sick, it’s because of payment for some sin after taxes?
Christian: More or less.
Filthy Sinner: So where does the tax go to? Roads? Health care? It doesn’t make any sense.
Christian: The lord moves in mysterious ways.
Filthy Sinner: Yeah, ok. That clears it up. Where do I sign?
Christian: Sarcasm is the natural language of the devil.
Filthy Sinner: Where do you get this stuff?
Christain &
Filthy Sinner: Ooh! Look! A vampire! Aaaah! Run!
[ Crunch, rip, snap, slurp ]
Monday, May 18, 2009
OH MY GOSH!!! ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME!!!
Source: Reuters
RPT-TREASURIES-Debt prices trim losses after housing data
Mon May 18, 2009 2:04pm EDT
* Builder sentiment in line with estimates
* Sharp rally in stocks cuts safe-haven bid for Treasuries!
* May NAHB index reads 16, as expected, up from April (Refiles to additional subscribers) (Updates prices, comment)
By Ellen Freilich!
NEW YORK, May 18 (Reuters) - U.S. Treasury debt prices trimmed sharp losses on Monday after an index showed an improved mood among U.S. home builders, right in line with expectations.
Any ray of hope that the housing slump might be coming to an end would tend to be negative for Treasuries prices. But prices were already down sharply on the day as a strong stock rally cut the safe-haven big for government debt and some traders may have hoped for a more robust reading on home builders' sentiment than the small improvement actually recorded.
The National Association of Home Builders/Wells Fargo Housing Market Index showed U.S. homebuilder sentiment rose to 16 in May from 14 in April.
The big jump in equities prices was partly driven by stronger results from home improvement retailer Lowe's (LOW.N: Quote, Profile, Research, Stock Buzz), which fueled hopes the economic slump was easing and spending was stabilizing. Those gains, reflecting a revived appetite for risk, kept bonds in negative territory.
"The market definitely has been on a downtrend from (strength in) equities and corporate deal flows. The NAHB data came in pretty much within expectations," said Ralph Manigat, senior bond strategist with 4Cast Ltd. in New York.
Benchmark 10-year notes
The 30-year bond
The Dow Jones industrial average was 2.03 percent higher at 8,436.30.
"It's really just a reallocation trade," said Calvin Sullivan, trader at Morgan Keegan.
Earlier, the Fed bought Treasuries maturing in August 2019 and February 2023.
Bond yields have been creeping steadily higher for two months on evidence that the pace of economic decline was slowing. But doubts about a second-half recovery have helped the market recover some ground. Benchmark 10-year rates have fallen about 0.25 percentage point in just over a week. (Editing by Leslie Adler)
Boredom
A few blog posts recently (2 of Brady’s one of mine) have been accurately appraised as being painfully boring to read. It got me thinking. I know that some posts are entertaining, and others make no sense or are just completely a waste of time. The confusing ones are a function of a computer guy trying to get ideas from his head into someone else’s. Good writers routinely achieve this. Computer guys don’t.
So, what’s boring? Watching golf is boring. Watching the PGA tour on television while waiting for the Preakness to start is excruciating. Especially since there was a rain delay, so it was just the announcers talking about how the “action” might continue in 30-45 minutes. The beautiful Big-screen images of the course with nobody on it for an hour or so really topped off that broadcast. But with the 5.1 Dolby Surround, I could hear the rain all around me. I invented “soakaround” technology. I grabbed a water bottle from the laundry room and asked Jack (age 6) to occasionally come by and spray it on my umbrella. It was just like being there. Boring.
But then thankfully, the television broadcast of the 134th Preakness Stakes began at 3:30. The race itself was not until about 5:20 or so but all the really boring crap leading up to it was way better than looking at a rainy day at a golf course on television. The actual race was very exciting. It was another one of those deals where I bet on one horse, but was actually rooting for another. Rachel Alexandra just hung on to beat The Kentucky Derby/ Probable Belmont winner by a length. Whew. My heart was beating hard watching, thinking she wouldn’t be able to hang on. But she did. And she didn’t break any legs either, so.
A lot of people think baseball is fun to watch. Nope. It’s boring. Baseball might be the only sport that is actually better on the radio than on television. I think it’s because you can visualize a much more interesting contest than what is actually happening. You hear the bat hit the ball, the roar of the crowd, the excited announcers yelling about whatever. Sounds very interesting.
Many people pretend they like to watch cycling. Mostly boring. The sprint finishes or the tremendous attacks on mountains are really cool – but honestly – only if you know what kind of effort that stuff takes. For the most part, the TDF is a bunch of guys riding on relatively flat roads together for hours at a time, creeping toward the breakaway group that they’ll catch and then there will be a sprint finish (which will be cool – but it took hours to get to that 2 minutes of action). Then all the time gaps of the GC contenders will be the same as the day before. Yawn. But just wait! In a couple of weeks, we hit the mountains! Yeah, whatever.
This blog. About once every 3 or 4 months, I write down some incoherent, irrelevant, self-indulgent dribble and present it to no one in particular (Brady and Shim).
But here’s the crazy part. How bored do you have to be to read it? I think it has to do with expectations. I hope it is not the case that a reader (Brady, Shim or Mary) would be like, “Man, I’m pretty entertained right now. I guess I’ll go check out fredcube.” I hope none of these people are like, “Wow, this skydiving is everything I thought it would be, but before I pull the ripcord, I just want to check something on my Blackberry…”
“Hardy Har har – tipping at Scooter’s! Oh, that fredcube. What a card.”
So, what’s boring? Watching golf is boring. Watching the PGA tour on television while waiting for the Preakness to start is excruciating. Especially since there was a rain delay, so it was just the announcers talking about how the “action” might continue in 30-45 minutes. The beautiful Big-screen images of the course with nobody on it for an hour or so really topped off that broadcast. But with the 5.1 Dolby Surround, I could hear the rain all around me. I invented “soakaround” technology. I grabbed a water bottle from the laundry room and asked Jack (age 6) to occasionally come by and spray it on my umbrella. It was just like being there. Boring.
But then thankfully, the television broadcast of the 134th Preakness Stakes began at 3:30. The race itself was not until about 5:20 or so but all the really boring crap leading up to it was way better than looking at a rainy day at a golf course on television. The actual race was very exciting. It was another one of those deals where I bet on one horse, but was actually rooting for another. Rachel Alexandra just hung on to beat The Kentucky Derby/ Probable Belmont winner by a length. Whew. My heart was beating hard watching, thinking she wouldn’t be able to hang on. But she did. And she didn’t break any legs either, so.
A lot of people think baseball is fun to watch. Nope. It’s boring. Baseball might be the only sport that is actually better on the radio than on television. I think it’s because you can visualize a much more interesting contest than what is actually happening. You hear the bat hit the ball, the roar of the crowd, the excited announcers yelling about whatever. Sounds very interesting.
Many people pretend they like to watch cycling. Mostly boring. The sprint finishes or the tremendous attacks on mountains are really cool – but honestly – only if you know what kind of effort that stuff takes. For the most part, the TDF is a bunch of guys riding on relatively flat roads together for hours at a time, creeping toward the breakaway group that they’ll catch and then there will be a sprint finish (which will be cool – but it took hours to get to that 2 minutes of action). Then all the time gaps of the GC contenders will be the same as the day before. Yawn. But just wait! In a couple of weeks, we hit the mountains! Yeah, whatever.
This blog. About once every 3 or 4 months, I write down some incoherent, irrelevant, self-indulgent dribble and present it to no one in particular (Brady and Shim).
But here’s the crazy part. How bored do you have to be to read it? I think it has to do with expectations. I hope it is not the case that a reader (Brady, Shim or Mary) would be like, “Man, I’m pretty entertained right now. I guess I’ll go check out fredcube.” I hope none of these people are like, “Wow, this skydiving is everything I thought it would be, but before I pull the ripcord, I just want to check something on my Blackberry…”
“Hardy Har har – tipping at Scooter’s! Oh, that fredcube. What a card.”
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Workin’ Hard? - or Hardly workin’? Hardy har har
I really dislike being put into situations with strangers where they are trying to break the ice with some corny comment.
One of my most favorite things in the world is the lame attempt at humor via tired old phrases.
I especially like when I hear a new one - well it could be old, but it’s new to me - that is every bit as lame as lame phrases from old.
Yesterday, at the Scooter’s drive thru, I purchased a large cup of dark roast coffee. I prefer scooter’s to Starbuck’s because I can usually get some coffee by ordering entirely in English. I know you’re thinking, “Yeah, Ok, whatever Rush Limbaugh!” Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of these people that thinks English is the only patriotic language. I don’t think that the language you speak makes you any more or less a great lady golfer. I just prefer to order coffee in English. Mostly because that’s the language I’m most comfortable with (with which I’m most comfortable, I mean).
So anyway, the total of the “large” “coffee” with tax was $1.95. Sweet! I’ve got 2 dollars.
Another thing that I’d like to mention at this point is one of age and culture. My grandparents were raised in a time that good restaurant service was rewarded with a 10% tip. For my parents, it was 15%. Now, 20% is the tip for ok service. Lousy service still gets 15%
I think tipping is appropriate in places like: Restaurants, Full service Gas stations (R.I.P.), Beauty Salons, Tailors and Strip Clubs. Places where there was some actual service being provided by an expert.
You never tipped at self service places where the main qualification is that you’ve decided college isn’t for you: Fast food restaurants, grocery stores, self serve gas stations (all gas stations) and uh drive thru coffee shops.
Smart server people know that when you set the money on the table to pay the bill, they should always ask if you need change back: Example:
“I’ll be your cashier when you are ready!”
So you throw down a twenty for a nine dollar tab.
“Do you need any change back?” (a good wait person will laugh and laugh at whatever you say, once you point out that yeah – you are not tipping 120% today).
A good wait person will also hand you 1 five and 6 ones, so you can conveniently tip more than a dollar, but less than 10.
But I’m not talking about good waiters. I’m talking about people who dump whipped milk in coffee, charge 5 bucks and want a tip for that. Or am I talking about sandwiches? I was recently at a Schlotzsky’s where not only was there a tip jar, but also the cashier gave me an abundance of ones. I probably should have said “Hey – I’m not going to tip you, so could I just get a 5? But anyways …
Of course there’s a tip jar there at the drive thru window of Scooter’s. Recall, I’m talking about Scooter’s. Someone has written “College Fund” on the jar (presumably, the excuse this pierce-faced winner is not in school). I guess I’m supposed to pay for your college. But I’m not going to, because you’ll just blow the money down at Exotica, buying crap to stick through your face. Had they written something like “Kolleej Phundde”, I’d be shoving money in there. Because that’s funny. But no.
So I hand over the 2 bucks, get my piping hot coffee, and
“Here’s your nickel. Now you can give someone a penny for their thoughts with interest!”
It was at this point that she stopped talking, but only in reality. In my mind she would not shut up about me not giving her a tip for filling the cup with delicious coffee and putting a lid on it – ensuring only my thumb would be scalded in the event of a spill.
In my mind she said, “ … for their thoughts with interest you cheap bastard. You come in here and pay 2 bucks for some brown water we ran over some crushed beans and you can’t even throw a buck our way. Well you can shove that nickel up your ass! With interest! Prick."
Does that even make any sense? "Penny for your thoughts, plus interest." Does it mean I struck some deal with someone? I offered them a penny for their thoughts but didn't actually have it on me? So I promised to make it right at a later date, when I could scrape up the cash? Then before the disclosure of thought commenced, we drew up a rough contract, agreeing on the conditions of payment. The interest rate was extremely steep, but the cost for the thoughts was so low I just couldn't pass it up.
Actually, that is kind of funny. Never mind I have to go put a tip in the scooter's college fund jar.
I love coffee.
One of my most favorite things in the world is the lame attempt at humor via tired old phrases.
I especially like when I hear a new one - well it could be old, but it’s new to me - that is every bit as lame as lame phrases from old.
Yesterday, at the Scooter’s drive thru, I purchased a large cup of dark roast coffee. I prefer scooter’s to Starbuck’s because I can usually get some coffee by ordering entirely in English. I know you’re thinking, “Yeah, Ok, whatever Rush Limbaugh!” Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of these people that thinks English is the only patriotic language. I don’t think that the language you speak makes you any more or less a great lady golfer. I just prefer to order coffee in English. Mostly because that’s the language I’m most comfortable with (with which I’m most comfortable, I mean).
So anyway, the total of the “large” “coffee” with tax was $1.95. Sweet! I’ve got 2 dollars.
Another thing that I’d like to mention at this point is one of age and culture. My grandparents were raised in a time that good restaurant service was rewarded with a 10% tip. For my parents, it was 15%. Now, 20% is the tip for ok service. Lousy service still gets 15%
I think tipping is appropriate in places like: Restaurants, Full service Gas stations (R.I.P.), Beauty Salons, Tailors and Strip Clubs. Places where there was some actual service being provided by an expert.
You never tipped at self service places where the main qualification is that you’ve decided college isn’t for you: Fast food restaurants, grocery stores, self serve gas stations (all gas stations) and uh drive thru coffee shops.
Smart server people know that when you set the money on the table to pay the bill, they should always ask if you need change back: Example:
“I’ll be your cashier when you are ready!”
So you throw down a twenty for a nine dollar tab.
“Do you need any change back?” (a good wait person will laugh and laugh at whatever you say, once you point out that yeah – you are not tipping 120% today).
A good wait person will also hand you 1 five and 6 ones, so you can conveniently tip more than a dollar, but less than 10.
But I’m not talking about good waiters. I’m talking about people who dump whipped milk in coffee, charge 5 bucks and want a tip for that. Or am I talking about sandwiches? I was recently at a Schlotzsky’s where not only was there a tip jar, but also the cashier gave me an abundance of ones. I probably should have said “Hey – I’m not going to tip you, so could I just get a 5? But anyways …
Of course there’s a tip jar there at the drive thru window of Scooter’s. Recall, I’m talking about Scooter’s. Someone has written “College Fund” on the jar (presumably, the excuse this pierce-faced winner is not in school). I guess I’m supposed to pay for your college. But I’m not going to, because you’ll just blow the money down at Exotica, buying crap to stick through your face. Had they written something like “Kolleej Phundde”, I’d be shoving money in there. Because that’s funny. But no.
So I hand over the 2 bucks, get my piping hot coffee, and
“Here’s your nickel. Now you can give someone a penny for their thoughts with interest!”
It was at this point that she stopped talking, but only in reality. In my mind she would not shut up about me not giving her a tip for filling the cup with delicious coffee and putting a lid on it – ensuring only my thumb would be scalded in the event of a spill.
In my mind she said, “ … for their thoughts with interest you cheap bastard. You come in here and pay 2 bucks for some brown water we ran over some crushed beans and you can’t even throw a buck our way. Well you can shove that nickel up your ass! With interest! Prick."
Does that even make any sense? "Penny for your thoughts, plus interest." Does it mean I struck some deal with someone? I offered them a penny for their thoughts but didn't actually have it on me? So I promised to make it right at a later date, when I could scrape up the cash? Then before the disclosure of thought commenced, we drew up a rough contract, agreeing on the conditions of payment. The interest rate was extremely steep, but the cost for the thoughts was so low I just couldn't pass it up.
Actually, that is kind of funny. Never mind I have to go put a tip in the scooter's college fund jar.
I love coffee.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Ok, I think I'll start riding again
Brady has been sending the occasional email to me about the U.P. Lunch rides. In a recent one, he mentions dropping someone repeatedly. Man, that sounds like fun. Problem is, I haven't been on the bike in several months. So I won't be able to just jump right in. A few things must happen first ...
First, I need to remove the thick layer of dust from one of my bikes (they all have it, but I'll only ride one at first).
Then I need to squeeze into my XXXL Twin 6 T-shirt that says "Bike Path Warrior" or something.
Then I have to find my white tube socks and tennis shoes.
Then I need to sacrifice a pair of blue-jeans and make myself a nice pair of biking shorts.
Then I need to buy a bottle of Aquafina that is a little smaller than the water bottle cage. It is very important to stay hydrated.
Then I need to adjust the chest strap on my heart rate monitor so my ribs aren't crushed when I put it on.
Then I need to head south on the trail for about 8 miles or so and promptly call my wife to come and pick me up.
I'll be dropping the Wednesday night crew in no time!
First, I need to remove the thick layer of dust from one of my bikes (they all have it, but I'll only ride one at first).
Then I need to squeeze into my XXXL Twin 6 T-shirt that says "Bike Path Warrior" or something.
Then I have to find my white tube socks and tennis shoes.
Then I need to sacrifice a pair of blue-jeans and make myself a nice pair of biking shorts.
Then I need to buy a bottle of Aquafina that is a little smaller than the water bottle cage. It is very important to stay hydrated.
Then I need to adjust the chest strap on my heart rate monitor so my ribs aren't crushed when I put it on.
Then I need to head south on the trail for about 8 miles or so and promptly call my wife to come and pick me up.
I'll be dropping the Wednesday night crew in no time!
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Well that took a while
Last October, we bought a used house. It was across the street from the old house. Since then, The Mrs has completely remodeled it. It looks great. It is almost finished. It was not almost finished when we moved in which was April 1. For about 3 weeks we slept on the floor (mattress, we're not barbarians) amidst the drywall dust and paint fumes. It sucked. But the worst part was that the television I bought in December was still in it's huge box.
Not anymore. It is now attached to the wall as if by magic or some sort of "wall mounting hardware" (nickname in college). There are surround sound speakers flush mounted to the wall and ceiling in various places. A big effing sub-woofer over on the floor. a PS3 (i don't even play games, but I went a little crazy) - all controlled by the MCP - this Harman Kardon receiver dealy. Yeah - it's got AM/FM just in case I ever just want to listen to music on my big-huge screen TV. Mostly I just watch Iron Man and Planet Earth on Blu-Ray.
And you know what else? I'll tell you. PS3 (besides being a blu-ray player) has a web browser. So if for some reason I want to watch something on say HULU or something. Boom, there it is on the big screen in surround sound. A little jerky (internet thing) but still pretty cool.
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