33.991781

As the personal odometer prepares to tick over another digit, I have been contemplating the events of the past year. I feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension regarding the impending celebration of my birth. That's natural for anyone, I suppose, but this year seems... Different.

This past year has been filled with struggle and accomplishment, rebirth and disappointment, the loss of old beliefs and the acquirement of new ones. It's been a busy year alright.

I have smiled and cheered for my best friend who overcame all odds to achieve his dream.

I have seen a wonderful change in my personal hero, who has finally thrown off the personal shackles he was chained with and is living life to the fullest and is finally, truly happy.

I have cried for a friend who died so senselessly, his murder unsolved and the culprit still running free.

I made a new friend who challenges me and threatens me to go for my dreams, no matter how silly they are, or else they will kick my ass. Heh.

I finally met an old friend I had never met beyond the confines of text and the occasional phone call, took them tubing with me and we were both relieved to discover that neither one of us was a psycho axe murderer in disguise.

I discovered that another friend of mine will most likely die within six months and there is not one current medical cure in this world that can stop it.

A person that I know well is a person I recently found that I don't know all that well after all.

I mourned the loss of Gerald, my old Ford, and celebrated finding the TARDIS, a vehicle that proves awesome in its own right and is reasonably affordable to boot.

I nearly died, but I didn't thanks to current medical cures that do work.

I became a Captain and a pirate, neither of which is connected.

I learned to accept constant diarrhea as a way of life and have been fighting with the Truth that I can't eat whatever the fuck I want to anymore. (I'm sure y'all LOVED to read that line... Sorry.)

I mourned the loss of fried food, BBQ, Dr. Pepper, Cheeseburgers, steak and lovely, lovely bacon.

I learned to eat like a communist, but realized that it's still ok to not like it.

I raced down Der Bahn a couple of hundred times, leaving my win/loss record at 214/8, certifying once and for all that Der Bahn is my bitch and Mother Schlitterbahn is my church.

I went tubing as much as was ridiculously possible. Until mid-October, no less.

I worked my ass off.

I actually wrote my ass off as well.

I wondered where my ass had gone.

I wrote this entry.

Germs Are Icky Things...

Ladies and gentlemen, our good friend Wonko has a mighty good point.

Went to the credit union to put some money in and I was shocked to witness someone at the forms desk using the bottle of hand sanitizer provided to wash HIS hands after filling out his deposit slip. According to the teller, the hand sanitizer was requested by a handful of credit union members.

"Apparently, the pestilence of dirty money and paper checks will doom us all," she sighed and I just about lost it.

We both rolled our eyes and chuckled at the over zealous "OMG! GERMS!!!!" lobby scoring another victory over the good common sense of normal people. We then laughed over each other's reactions and I swear to the gods that we shared a moment.

Teller Amy, will you marry me?

Dusting Off the Keyboard...

Well, I finally did something this time around instead of just sitting and thinking, "Damn, wouldn't it be sweet if..."

For those in the know, I am a fan. I dig the original BBC series, the new series and Big Finish's Doctor Who audio adventures. What was extra cool was when BF announced that they were offering a chance to pitch a story idea, along with two pages of script, of a short episode that would star Peter Davison and Sarah Sutton.

Davison, who played Doc #5 in the original series might be possibly recognizable to those familiar with the BBC Hitchhikers Guide TV serial. He was the pig looking cow thing that was offering himself to Zaphod, Ford and company at the Restraunt at the End of the Universe.

Anyway, #5 was always one of my favorites, if not the favorite. When I started watching Who, PBS was showing stories from his run. To get the chance to possibly write an episode for Davison to star in, well, that I just couldn't pass up!

So, we'll see what happens from here. 1,200 entries to contend with. If nothing else, it felt euphoric to finally do something with my writing than to sit here and merely talk about it.

Wish me success, my friends. :)

Yep, It's The Usual February Rush...

One week, two days down.

The faster I get through this month, the better. Now that the birthdays of three people I care about this month have passed, the rest of this month can zoom by...

This Does Not Amuse...

There are those who believe that this was a waste of money:





One of these people is, quite possibly, the President of the United States of America.

So, if the rumor is true, thanks for nothing, Mr. President.

Two Things I've Overheard...

"I swear to cripes that the next stupid sumbitch I catch pissing or crapping in my alleyway is gonna meet my good friends Mr. Shovel and Mr. Bag O' Lime."

-My Boss


"Just reboot the thing. The pixels are not going to come back from the dead and haunt you for the rest of your life if you reset it because it gave you the blue screen of death In fact, you're probably doing them a favor by leading them to the light."

-IT Guy

All These Worlds Are Yours...

It was a simple idea. To attempt to type this entry without opening my eyes. I'm surprised I made it this far. Seriously.

But since I made it this far, I shall continue. Guess I can thank Mrs. Parker later for drilling the concept of touch typing in my head all those years ago, eh?

Anyway, time to clear the head a bit. It is now 2010, a year that seemed so far away ten years ago and yet now it feels like it sorta flew past.

Heh. Sorta.

For those familiar with Arthur C. Clarke, this is the year where we find all the answers to the questions asked in 2001. Well, again... Sorta.

We find out why the U.S.S. Discovery is in a decaying orbit, why Hal went batshit nuts and why one would be batshit nuts to poke around the goddamn Monolith in the first place.

The one question we are confused with is "what the hell happened to Dave?" Sure, Dave makes an appearance to warn Dr. Floyd and the Russo-American mission crew about the impending 'something wonderful' event that converts Jupiter into a midget sized star called Lucifer. Sure, he also visits his mom and ex-wife on Earth. Sure, he pops in towards the end to comfort Hal and to send the famous last message to mankind before nothing is heard of David Bowman again until 2061 comes around.

All these worlds are yours except Europa. Attempt no landings there. Use them in peace, use them together.

Repeat over and again. "Attempt no landings there."

I sit here and ponder the same thing. 2000 rolled out and I had a ton of questions, fears and anxieties regarding the future. For every Europa that piqued my interest, I simply attempted no landings there.

Things look and feel a lot different than they did back when I was still young and charming. I played everything way too safe.

I can't say I wholly regret that, I've had really good reasons. Still, there is a big hole somewhere and I have no idea what goes there.

I open my eyes at this point because I'm running out of steam. I just want to know what it is I am doing and why. Not exactly something I can answer here, true, but here we are.

Happy Chanukah, Y'all!

To celebrate in style, I present to you The Diamond:



Enjoy!

Propel, Propel, Propel Your Craft...

A while ago, my eldest brother shared a link to the Way Out Junk Blog, a site that features out of print records from long ago. His collection spans across decades of out of print LP's, ranging from classic Children's albums to political comedy records and beyond.

I had downloaded a copy of Mister Rogers' album, King Friday XIII Celebrates in Misterogers' Neighborhood of Make Believe fairly recently and found myself listening to it earlier today.

Two songs in particular struck me as particularly hilarious, Propel, Propel, Propel You Craft and Three Rodents With Defective Vision, so I went tooling around the 'net to find the lyrics.

During my search, I stumbled upon this gem. For those of you who have ever been in the Scouting program, you'll definitely recognize at least one or two of these songs.

The thing that strikes me the most is that while most of the principal elements of each song is constant, there are several regional differences between the version on their website and the versions I recall from my own days in Scouting. Was talking with Robert about something of this nature before regarding the variations in oral tradition and this illustrates this concept very clearly.

For example, let's take Announcements. A classic example because while the first part is the same, there are several other verses that we used to sing along with it.

Their version goes like this:

Announcements, announcements, announcements ,
A terrible death to die, terrible death to die,
A terrible death to be talked to death,
A terrible death to die

Announcements, announcements, announcements,
Ohhh...

Our version went something like this...

*Ahem* (Practices scales and clears throat)

Announcements, announcements, announcements!
What a horrible way to die.
A horrible way to die.
A horrible way, a horrible way, a horrible way to die.
Announcements, announcements, announcements!

We sold our cow! We sold our cow!
We have no need, for your bull now.

Did you ever see a windbag, a windbag a windbag?
Did you ever see a windbag, well there's one right now!

Blows this way and that way
And this way and that way
Did you ever see a windbag?
Well there's one right now!

Did you ever hear about Patrol Leader Jeff?
His kindly Scout Leader talked him to death.
Now he's up with the angels, seeking all kinds of angles
To keep his fellow scouts from the same tangles
But all of them Angels and even the Devil fall by being talked to death.

Announcements, announcements, Annnnooouuuunnncccceeeeemeenttts!

(Finish with gurgling and impersonations of over-dramatic dying gasps and groans.)

I was actually pleasantly surprised to find that Johnny Verbeck still floating around. Back in my era and in my region of the country, the name was actually "Johnny Rebeck," but otherwise the song pretty much matches up to my memory of it.

The memory is a little hazy on the song we used to sing as cadence whenever we would go hiking. I can recall most of it, but forgive me if the lapses have crept in.

Everywhere we go
People want to know
Who we are?
Where we come from?

So, we tell 'em
We ain't the Marine Corps!
The Jarhead Marine Corps!

We ain't the Air Force!
The Flybaby Air Force!

We ain't the Navy!
The deck swabbin' Navy!

We ain't the Army!
(I forget this part except it ends with "Army" Backpackin' Army kinda sounds right.)

We are the Boy Scouts
Of the mighty Troop Twennnnty
(Forget this line too. Something about... Meh, can't remember)
From the big-assed state of Texas. (This line I didn't forget. Buddy of mine came up with it, we found it hilarious much to our Leaders' chagrin, but it stuck anyway)

Sound off!
1. 2.
Sound off!
3. 4.
SOUND OFF!
1, 2, 3, 4 Can we hike a little more? ONE TWO THREEFOUR!

See? Now I'm transplanted to a time where we'd pay someone a dollar to fart on the campfire to prove the Theory of Fireass Stupidity!

Good times and good memories!

Let's Clean Up and Go To...

Yep, another NSFW post. I swear I'll get back to good and wholesome entries in the near future! Heh.

I mentioned this in yesterday's Blog entry, so now I shall explain the origin of the phrase, "let's clean up and go to Arby's."

As many of my readers are aware, I edit video for a living. My jobs run the spectrum from new babies and weddings to independent student films and the occasional home-crafted porno.

Now, I'm not personally a huge fan of porn. It just never really appealed to me to watch other people play "hide the 2x4 in the sawmill," to be perfectly honest.

I realize that professional porn is a multi-billion dollar industry and good for them, but they have yet to receive dollar one from yours truly. If that's what gets you off, more power to you. I do not judge what you do in private.

Every now and then, a client will bring in some of their personal "homebrew" porn and ask that I transfer it to DVD or as a video file for their own editing. I have one simple rule that I adhere to and I don't hesitate to explain to the client this rule right to their face.

It goes like this:

"No children, no pets and if this looks like those or if it is coerced sex (ie rape or someone got slipped a mickey, etc.), I'm calling the cops."

I do not fuck around with this rule and yes, I have had to call the cops a couple of times when something just didn't look or feel right about either the client or the footage they presented for transfer. I do not keep copies of what they bring in, nor do I show any of my co-workers for laughs and after the job is finished, all files go promptly into the recycle bin for immediate deletion.

Well, the fun part of handling sensitive material is that sometimes the footage is more hilarious than perhaps the "stars" of the film intended. I can't discuss most of it, obviously, but this one takes the taco.

A rather husky couple were engaging in the throes of sexual congress for a good fifteen minutes. Imagine observing walruses in mating season and you get all the visual you require. I'll pause for a moment while you reach for the mind bleach to purify.

Good for them being free and open with their love for each other. What I didn't need to have permanently etched somewhere in my brainpan was hearing this...

"Oh, baby, you were so good! You rode me like a hungry lion!"

"Yeah, and to tell the truth, I am actually pretty hungry."

"You want to eat something?"

"Yeah."

"OH! I know! Let's clean up and go to Arby's!"

You're welcome.

Complete and Utter Whore...

Oh, yes, this one is very unsafe for work reading... :)


11:28Robert

I am thinking of using the the phrase "hookers and blow" to rewrite some Barry Manilow songs...

I did work on a version of Copa Cabana in which Lola was a hitter for the mafia.

11:32pmMe

Her name was Lola, she was a coke head. She'd suck off every guy with a gleam in her eye. Then they would pay her, she'd then go spend it. Buying lines here and there and shoving needles in her thigh.

11:32pmRobert

LOL!

11:32pmMe

Her knees would hit the floor.

The men would cry for more.

She'd drop another dime and get real real high...

We're talking Hookers, hookers and blow-ow

11:34pmRobert

Her name was Lola
She was a hitter
She would whack a guy and never bat an eye

11:34pmMe

Ohhhhhhh... Punnery!

Well played!

11:35pmRobert

Thank ye.

:-):-)

There was blooshed and screaming at the Copa...Copa Cabana

bloodshed, that is...

11:36pmMe

Belinda was mine til the time that I found her. Blowing Jim. Sucking him. The Sue came along and loved me strong, or so I thought. Me and Sue...and her dog too...

Don't know that I will, but until I find out
If I have AIDS or Gonorrhea I'll find out...

Sorry, swapped to Neil Diamond there for a second.

11:37pmRobert

Still, well played, good sir!

11:37pmMe

I'll be what I am. A complete and utter whore. Complete and utter whore...

11:37pmRobert

Bwahahahaha!

I sense that this may be - dare I say it? - blogworthy.

11:38pmMe

Hrrrmmmmmm....

Hmmmmmmmm...

Why, naturally. Keep going. :)

11:40pmRobert

They come to the Mafia
TODAY
They wanna be wiseguys
TODAY...

They wanna get a favour
TODAY

11:41pmMe

My Family, tis of thee! Hit men of liberty. Of thee I sing, of thee I siiinnnng toooodaaayyy!

11:42pmRobert

Oh, la bella mafia
TODAY
Oh, las cosa nostra
TODAY

LA coas nostra, that is...

cosa (DAMN TYPOS)

11:44pmMe

Buwahahaha!

Sweet Godfather, tis of thee. Strong man of liberty. For thee I kill...

11:46pmRobert

TODAY

From the rackets to the numbers
We work for the Mafia

11:46pmMe

Oddly enough, I actually deployed some Neil Diamond in the car today.

Was in one of those moods.

11:47pmRobert

I understand...

11:47pmMe

Yep. Crunchy Granola Suite followed by some I Am, I Said and finished with some Porcupine Pie.

A well balanced meal, I suppose.

11:47pmRobert

Cracklin' Rosie like to dress like man...

Ugh, typos...

Cracklin' Rosie liked to dress like a man

She insisted that folks call her Sam

11:52pmMe

Ohhhh I love my Rosie, er, Sam... She/he got the way to make me confused.

11:53pmRobert

She makes me dress just like a woman
Our relationship is plain confusin'

11:54pmMe

Cracklin' Rose, you're a sturdy manwoman, lift Volkswagons while guitar strummin', swingin' your fake dick at passers by singin' "Hey now, hey now, hey sailor!"

Yes, I did have a very stressful day. Why would one ask?

Hehe

11:55pmRobert

If I had been drinking something, it would be all over the screen now...

11:55pmMe

Bows

11:57pmRobert

For some reason, I just had a mental image of Eminem covering Neil Diamond songs...

And vice versa...

Neil Diamond sings "Ass like that"...

11:58pmMe

Would probably improve the song 10000%

For all that Neil touches is Gold.

...except the Jazz Singer. Shouldn't mess with a classic.

11:58pmRobert

Thus it is written thus it shall be...

11:59pmMe

Verily. Thus spaketh Zarathrustra.

T'day 12:00amRobert

Duuuuum... Duuuuum.. De dum!

Boom boom boom boom

12:00amMe

Makes me want to clean up and go to Arby's*.


*I'm quite sure that I'll have to explain this phrase in another posting since it is likely I haven't told that story to the general public as yet...

Awards and Cheating In Las Vegas...

8:26pmRobert

We need a multiplayer game called Hookers and Blow. You go to Vegas and try not to pay for vices on the company credit card...

8:28pmMe

Bwahahaha!

Good challenge that...

8:31pmRobert

"You avoided the Mustang Ranch, 500 bounus points..."

8:33pmMe

BUSTED. LVPD caught you sticky handed while you were boning that $2 special behind the Bellagio. -2500 points, -1 Condom, +1 STD

8:34pmRobert

LOL

The whiskey and condoms appeared on your purchase card statement, - 1 Job.

8:37pmMe

Achievement Earned

Congratulations! You discovered your boss engaging in three way sexual congress with a showgirl and a donkey and have successfully blackmailed him into giving you a raise, earning you the Gotta Get Paid to Get Laid Achievement!

8:37pmRobert

LOL

On The Cusp Of... Something.

I think I may have an idea for this year. Video Pirate. If I can rustle up what I need, I think it'll be awesome.

Stay tuned!

I think I'm having a nervous breakdown.

Completely without ideas for Halloween this year. This simply will not do, my friends...

Thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink...

Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut...

Customer: Yeah, calling to check on my 8mm order.

Me: Yep, still working on it.

Customer: That's ridiculous, it's been a week. What are you guys doing? Are you even working on it?

Me: Normal turnaround is two weeks.

Customer: IT'S BEEN A WEEK.

Me: Yes sir, I understand. The. turnaround. time. is. two. weeks.

Customer: Let me speak to the guy running my film.

Me: I am he.

Customer: He, who?

Me: The video editor who is currently working on your order, sir.

Customer: Yeah, lemme talk to that guy.

Me: You are speaking to the video editor, sir.

Customer: Ah. Well, I turned this film into you a week ago. When will it be ready?

Me: Well, you turned it in on the 15th, so it will be ready on the 30th, sir.

Customer: I don't get it. It's been a week.

Me: Right. That's because our normal turnaround time on 8mm film transfers is set for two weeks.

Customer: If I had known that, I would have gone somewhere else, like competitor's name here

Me: Their turnaround time is also two weeks, sir.

Customer: Don't bullshit me into keeping my business. No one here in town takes two weeks to run 4000 feet of film.

Me: ...

Customer: So, I'm coming by to pick it up and I'll take it to competitor thank you.

Me: Sir, you are more than welcome to do so but if you do, it's going to be an extra two weeks for them to complete the order.

Customer: How the hell would you know that?

Me: We use them to transfer 8mm sound flim. They've always taken two weeks.

Customer: I don't think I like your tone, smartass.

Me: Sir, please try to understand. 8mm transfers take time because we clean your film, repair splices that have failed, run them through the machine, correct the speed to match proper video, make any reasonable adjustments to the brightness/contrast, export the final footage to the files we use to burn DVD's with and then finally burn the DVD's.

I am sorry if you aren't happy with our turnaround time, but these things take time to do the job right.

Especially in cases where we are working with three quarters of a mile of film.

Customer: Fuck you, smartass. We'll see what your boss has to say about this.

...

I now await the wrath of my boss. :p

Heh. I love people who have nothing to do...

Hi Ho, Geoffrey, AWAAAAY!

1:03pmRobert

Boston.com article regarding use of GPS tracking devices in criminal investigations.

1:06pmMe

Ohhhhh joy.

Not that the smarter criminals won't find a workaround or anything.

Plus that is just bad for privacy rights.

1:08pmRobert

Not just that, but what about the 4th Amendment?

1:08pmMe

Exactly.

Wonder if they'll try to appeal further.

1:09pmRobert

I am all for cracking down on crime, but this rubs my libertarian sensibilities all wrong.

This, to me, is tantamount to illegal search and seizure. Plus, it is like trespassing. If you want to keep tabs on a suspect, then do it the old fashioned way or get a friggin' court order to enter their property (in this case, a vehicle).

1:10pmMe

Supposedly, they had a warrant.

1:11pmRobert

I haven't read the rest of the article yet.

Thanks for that info.

1:11pmMe

NP.

Even then, still chaps the ass.

1:12pmRobert

Hmmmm. I just don't like the idea of placing a GPS tracker on a vehicle because of "suspicion."

1:12pmMe

Me either.

If I had somehow discovered that my car was being tracked via GPS, I would drive aimlessly.

Say...

Drive around 1604 four or five times.

1:16pmRobert

Or get a friend to drive around while you use their car.

1:16pmMe

Then I'd drive to Burger King, drive the 410 loop a few times and head home.

Or steal one.

1:16pmRobert

Yup.

Or get a Taxi, a rental car, etc.

1:17pmMe

Horse.

1:18pmRobert

Camel, emu with a saddle, mountain gorilla, etc.

1:18pmMe

Giraffe.

That'd be sweet.

Sticking up a bank and escaping on your getaway giraffe.

1:20pmRobert

"Can you describe the getaway vehicle?"
"Yes, it was a Giraffe."
"Who makes that?"
"Other giraffes, I guess."

1:20pmMe

HA!

You, sir, owe me a new keyboard.

1:20pmRobert

Why thank you. I do aim to amuse.

I now have a mental image of a gang of bank robbers clinging to a saddle in the back of a galloping giraffe.

on the back of...

1:25pmMe

HAHAHAHAA!

No, the first works better.

Gives new meaning to "exotic mount"

1:26pmRobert

Harhar.

The "getaway driver" holding the reins in his hand as the galloping giraffe strains against the bridle.

1:28pmMe

Soft core pr0n at its best.

1:30pmRobert

"Half a league, half a league rode the robbers from the First National Bank..."

1:35pmMe

Bwahahaha!

1:36pmRobert

"Police to the left, Police to the right..."

1:40pmMe

"And safe was I due to the giraffe's height."

1:40pmRobert

LOL

One Last Slide For The Summer...

Time zipped by too crazy go nuts this summer. I spent the day over at Schlitterbahn, essentially closing down the place for the summer season once again.

I rode my beloved Der Bahn at least 26 times, smoking out my competition all 26 times in the downhill race of awesome. To say that I'm an addict to this ride is an understatement.

Last day at Schlitterbahn is aways awesome and sad in the same breath. Summer's coming to an end and for myself, that's when boredom sets in. Except at work, which gets psychotically "OMG, IT'S CHRISTMAS!! PANIC1111!!!!ONEONEONEELVENTY!!!"

For now, I comfort myself with the thought that I might just squeeze in one last tubing trip if the fates (and the meterologists) deem it possible. Otherwise, I shall mourn the end of summer and will start counting down the months until I can start frolicking in the water once more.

Ahoy Thar!

Arrrr, today be pleasin' to my mind for it be International Talk Like a Pirate Day! Be sure ta spread the news with yer mateys and give the gift of arrr!

For those of you with a Facebook account, you can change the language settings under your account settings. In the drop down menu, select English (Pirate), wash hands, rinse and repeat!

Enjoy me hearties! Ima off ta torment the company crew with some pirate shanties!

Show Due Deference to His Majesty...

All hail Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico and celebrate the 150th anniversary of his ascension to the throne!

Late Night With R & R...

There are times and there are reasons. Then there are times without reason.

Robert and I had been in the midst of a brief discussion about an article written by William Faulkner, entitled The Duty to Be Free, which was written back in 1953. Shortly after that, he found an article about members of the California legislature enjoying themselves with free food, gifts, etc. provided by lobbyists while the state struggled against bankruptcy.

As it was starting to get late in the evening, naturally our conversation began to descend into blissful hilarious anarchy. Enjoy!



11:53pm Robert

Sheesh, I guess the polidiots in Cali are nuts:
SacBee Story

11:55pm Me

$420 limit.

Speaks volumes, no?

11:55pm Robert

Yeah.

11:56pm Me

Esp. in a state that sanctions medicinal marijuana

Just makes sense...

Heh

11:56pm Robert

LOL

"Pass the dutchie while we pass this bill..."

12:02am Me

Heh.

Well, I smoke two joints in da mornin' I smoke two joints at night. I smoke two joints in committee and then I smoke in debate, smoke two joints...

12:04am Robert

LOL

"Dude, those weren't Zig-Zags, that was the bill!"

12:06am Me

Govnuh Arnold says you be hardworkin' assemblyman, but then he channels Uncle Teddy and gets as high as he can. And I says hard work good and hard work fine, but an Assemblyman's gotta be high, so I smoke two joints in da mornin'...

Heh.

(Replying to Robert's previous comment): "Oh shit, mang! I done rolled page four-twenty of the budget and smoked it! Should I have not done that?

snickering

12:07am Robert

"Uh, like, my colleague totally sparked the pending budget amendment."

12:09am Me

Bwahaha

12:10am Robert

"Sorry, dude, I totally had the munchies and like used the transportation bill to wrap some fish and chips."

12:11am Me

Dude, that is not cool.

Fish is murder, man, have some crunchy granola instead.

Fuck. Now I have Neil Diamond's "Crunchy Granola Suite" going through my head now...

12:12am Robert

Even organic farm raised and hand fed fish?

12:12am Me

Yeah, man, you're like killing the earth, man.

12:13am Robert

Wow, the fish are hemp fed and everything.

12:13am Me

You could give the fish a hand job before killing it and that'd still be evil.

12:13am Robert

LOL.

I can't stop laughing...

Just the image of someone trying to jerk teh gherkin of a fish is damned funny.

12:14am Me

Heh.

12:15am Robert

LOL. This must be blogged.

Well, I am off to the happy slumber land. I holler at ya tomorrow.

12:16am Me

My blog is slowly becoming the R&R chat show.

Hehehe

Alrighty, dude, g'night to ye!

Beets Ahoy!

The Romanians will shortly test their new "let's tie a rocket to Yvgeniy's mule and feed him lots of borscht" technology.

Click here, Comrades!

The Hunt For Red Chicken...

Robert and I were getting out of control again...

ENJOY!

7:56pmRobert
Yo!

7:56pmMe

Heya!

Just messing around a bit until dinner.

7:56pmRobert

Had some homemade Reuben sandwiches for dinner.

7:57pmMe

Mmmmmm.... Hell yeah!

7:59pmRobert

Indeed!

7:59pmMe

I'm making something...

...Chickenish?

8:00pmRobert

By the pricking of my thumbs, something chicken this way comes.

8:00pmMe

heh

8:02pmRobert

Now I am inserting the word "chicken" into a variety of book and film titles.

The Chicken Weekend (think of The Osterman Weekend)

8:03pmMe

Hahaha!

Of Chicken and Men

8:03pmRobert

Excellent!

The Chicken Strain

Chicken Park

(a Michael Crichton roll there)

8:04pmMe

Bwahaha!

Brave New Chicken

(just for the contradiction, you see)

8:05pmRobert

Teehee.

Chicken Games

8:05pmMe

The Hunt for Red Chicken

HA!

8:05pmRobert

"One CLuck, Vasily"

8:05pmMe

Fucking awesome. Simul-Clancy post!

"This chicken is going to get out of control and we'll be lucky to live through it."

8:06pmRobert

LOL

The Chicken and The Snowman

8:06pmMe

Heh

Star Chicken, The Chickenmaster and let us not forget Mad Chicken: Beyond Henhousedome.

8:08pmRobert

All the Right Sqawks

8:08pmMe

Twelve Angry Chickens.

8:08pmRobert

LOL

The Right Giblets

All the Rooster's Men

8:09pmRobert

The Chickenman, All The Chicken's Men and DAMNIT

Stole mine!

You bastard.

8:11pmRobert

Teehee.

8:11pmMe
Just for that, I'm blogging this...

8:11pmRobert
Spiffy!

A Moment...

So long, Teddy...

Trap Door Sprang Open...

Random thought I had for the day was this:

If one was to scream in a vacuum, would there be cows in Antarctica?

Moving on to my next thought of the day, I finally heard of Jon & Kate Gosselin and immediately wanted to smack my face with a hammer. We really need to stop caring about people who become celebrities based purely on the fact that they are raising an orchard full of crotchfruit.

Naturally, the station that broadcasts their trainwreck, The Learning Channel, also airs a program centered around the goings on of the Duggar family, a large family living in Arkansas. I think that last I heard they had 18 kids and were hoping for number 19?

I'm all for people having kids. As long as they take care of them, love them, raise them with good character and are not a financial burden on the taxpayer, more power to you.

The issue I have is this glorification of it. Eighteen kids is quite a milestone, but not something that deserves constant media attention.

Indeed, I found myself taking umbrage with the network's name. "The Learning Channel" seems a bit disingenious to me. Checking on their schedule, it seemed like hour after hour of the Gosselins, the Duggars, pregnancy, being obese and pregnant, being impoverished/rich/middle class and pregnant, and the delivery of newborn children.

I believe that they should drop the facade and change their name to something else. For example:

"The Learning About The Various Stages of Pregnancy, Delivery and the Raising of Multiple Children Channel"

Or, to shorten that a bit, why not call it the "Crotchfruit Orchard Channel?" I can just imagine the Beavis and Butthead response to that one.

Huhhuhhuhhuh, that shortens to COC.
Hehheheheh, yeah! You said "coc."

Alright, if that last one sounds a bit crass, I offer to you the simple and more 'family friendly' moniker, "The Knocked Up Channel."

The other thing that gets me is the "WE" channel, or "Women's Entertainment" as it is formally addressed. I do not poke at the channel itself, per se, just that it boggles my mind that one really needs sixteen hours of wedding shows per scheduled day with the occasional 'Movie of the Week' thrown in to keep things real.

Seems like most of the girlfriends and gay friends that I've ever had were absolutely transfixed by this channel, which, if this is a fair scientific sample of the populace at large, explains the success of this channel. Not my personal cup of tea, but I've had to sit through several shows over the years thanks to said girlfriends past.

Getting to the heart of the matter, I would rather watch shows about cattle grazing than WE's fare. I'm not a violent man by nature, but I found myself wanting to punch each Bridezilla out - Buzz Aldrin style.

It's like reliving 75% of the weddings I ever shot, edited or attended. It's the "Bride's Special Day" so naturally she has to act like a complete selfish bulldog brat and make everyone within a five mile radius completely miserable.

Seriously, why give them a show? I can see the "laughing at their unruly behaviour" angle, but why encourage this type of behaviour by showcasing it?

Not for me, friends. Instead of "Platinum Spoiled Rich Weddings," I'm quite happy watching with "Ice Road Truckers" (even though I have no fucking clue what the hell THAT show is doing on the HISTORY channel).

One thing I'd like to see would be one of the Bridezillas, fully dressed in their gowns, hauling pipe to Deadhorse, Alaska in -40 degree ice storms. That would be bloody awesome.

Achieving Your Childhood Dreams: The Stumble Upon Edition...

When I was a lad, I recall having a short list of things that I wanted to do in life tucked away in my dresser's middle drawer.

I'd pull the list out of its safe-keeping spot and glance it over, occasionally scrawling a new desired life goal in waxy crayon and scratching out the ones I didn't like anymore. I hadn't actually thought of this list in decades, but I stumbled across it recently and decided I'd check in with my spelling-inept six year old self and see how I was doing...


1. A puppy of my very own.

I've co-owned a small handful of animals throughout the years, usually resulting in having to surrender them to the ex-girlfriend once our relationships would end. Usually they were the ones who'd bring the pets into the relationship, so it was logical that they would go with them after things were over. I think in one or two cases, I missed the animals way more than I did the owners.

I'm one who definitely gets attached to the cuddly beasties and I'm not afraid to admit that.

Then I met Katy, the golden retriever puppy I adopted while on a business trip to Houston. She was my puppy and she was awesome. I still miss her, she was a hell of a dog. She'd be the first dog I ever brought into a relationship and when that relationship was going to end, I knew she was coming with me! Heh.


2. Be a seal trainer.

Behold!



Alright, so that wild career in working with my favourite animal in the world didn't exactly take off. Turns out I needed more of a marine biology background and tons of experience with animal training to even think of doing this for a living, but this was the next best thing.

I found out that Sea World offered these "Sea Lion Interaction Programs" for an additional fee. I was surprised on my birthday with the opportunity to jump in with the sea lions, which I looked forward to. Then I had my surgery this year and had to wait some more.

Until July.

104 degrees that day.

In a wet suit.

Still, totally fucking worth it. It was even more awesome than I ever imagined it'd be. I'll probably post about this adventure later on, but it was definitely the coolest thing since swiss cheese dipped in awesome sauce.


3. Yep, this happened this year as well. Not by real design because I was looking more at the sticker prices and condition of the vehicles I was shopping for, but I have to admit that I did finally get my cool blue truck. Yay, TARDIS!


4. I'm never going to be President of the United States, nor the President of the United Federation of Planets, nor President of the local Rotary Club. I still may be president of my own company some day, but I believe in this case that ascending to the political path of the office of President was a childhood dream I came up with after watching Reagan on TV passing Jelly Bellys to his cabinet.

Having thought about it a bit more, I am actually the head of state of a nation in Cybernations, a game I play online. I rule my country fairly without any real world consequences and I can be President of my beloved Nachoburrito while eating Jelly Belly's if I so choose. Yes, I can nuke the crap out of my enemies while eating very cherry beans and lounging around in my pj's, thankyouverymuch.

So, I'll call this one good. :)


5. Make millions of dollars... Hrmmm. Work in progress. I'm happy making tens of dollars for now, but I'm keeping my eyes open.


6. Yep, went to California by myself, with friends and with ex-girlfriends several times since I was a kid. Last time I went was years ago, but I'm about due to go again. Done and done!


7. Beating up my brother M for tormenting me all those years. Truth be told, if I hadn't been so obnoxious, he'd probably have left me alone most likely.

I didn't quite kick his ass, but I do recall being bigger than him and pinning him to the floor during a good natured brotherly brawl in the living room. I think he still won that one or perhaps we ended in a draw if I recall, but I think being able to actually knock him on his ass helped us learn that we were both too old for that shit. Heh.


8. Rosie, sweet Rosie. I had the biggest crush on her when we were in Kindergarten together. I used to let her borrow my fingerpaints and she'd sometimes share her snacks with me at lunch. I loved her so much that I named my favorite stuffed seal after her. Ahhh, such young love.

If I recall correctly, she was in love with Jason though so we Rosie and I were only just friends, destined to never sit on the swings next to one another.

I never heard where she ended up, but I hope she is well. Although if she is single and still just as sweet after all these years at age 33 as she was at age 5, tell her to meet me at the swings after recess.


9. No and no, unless you count Halloween costumes. Not that I'd be interested in the godless Michael Bay Transformers one whit. Original series for the win.

I heard there's a DJ named DangerMouse, but I doubt I'd impress him/her with my awesome Penfold voice impressions.

"Oh, crumbs, Chief I bungled it again, eh?"

See? Nothing. No phone call or anything. Philistines.


So, that's part one of mine so far. How are y'all doing on yours?

Comments drop below in the bottom-hand side, yo!

33 & 1/3

This being the day I rolled this particular number on my chronometer, I'm jamming out to George Harrison. That is all.

Iran, Pt. Deaux...

A little Penny Arcade to get in the mood and then we'll continue with tonight's early morning fiesta of fervor. Click the image to imbiggen!



I have to admit that this news article from Wired amuses the evil 1337 h4x0r side of me a bit:

Looks like 4chan and the Twitter Shitters have been busy...

Being neither a fan of Twitter (a tool that reminds me of how much I hate AIM-speak with the fury of Thor) or 4chan (a website which apart from their DDOS shenanigans against Scientology, annoys me to death), I have to admit that I'm impressed. Twittering as well as blogging has allowed news from inside Iran to percolate out into the world, a concept that would have been unheard of twenty years ago.

It is a huge risk they are taking in reaching out. Could you imagine getting a bullet in the brainpan for blogging? It's true and it is happening right now, friends, make no mistake.

The interesting thing about the DDOS (distributed denial of service, which is basically attempts to flood websites and choke up their available bandwidth with junk attachments, clicks, redirects, etc.) attacks is that it works both ways. Yes, they have been bringing the Iranian government and state controlled media outlets to their virtual knees by these attacks, but this has an effect on those inside the country who are trying to get legitimate news and information out.

I've been keeping a watch on the BBC websites and Fark, since the Beeb has more of a world view perspective than the more USA-centered mass media and Fark is a wonderful news aggregator in times of crisis so you can find links in a pinch when shit hits the fan.

I wouldn't recommend my readers join in the hacking fun, but I do post this so that y'all can take notice of what a few hundred thousand geeks can do. Good luck, we're all counting on you...

And Iraaaaan, Iraaaan Soooo Faarrr Awwwaaayyyy...

In case you haven't heard, the people of the Islamic Republic of Iran are currently in a crisis of potentially revolutionary proportions.

Right after the recent election held in Iran, which declared incumbent President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad the winner with over 62% of the vote, questions of widespread voter fraud emerged.

While such accusations are quite common in political contests, it has been alleged that the violations of the process were so flagrant and biased towards Ahmadinejad that a recount and further review was demanded by his political opponent Mir-Hossein Mousavi.

This election drew 85% of the voting populace, which was inspired by high unemployment, a shaky economy and several polarizing factions who either vied to maintain the status quo or bring about sweeping reform to the government of Iran. Right after the election, several peaceful demonstrations were held in an attempt to bring about review of the election results.

After the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, certified the results of the election to be Allah's Divine Will in one day instead of the customary three, the demands for more in depth analysis became more fervent.

The Interior Ministry promised they would look into the results again and have updated information in seven to ten days, but stated that while the actual count might fluctuate a bit, Ahmadinejad was still the likely winner. Mousavi stated that there were upwards of ten million written ballots that were not certified correctly (meaning that the registration numbers on the ballots in question are not present and therefore cannot be tied to the individual voters who cast them) and that these ballots mysteriously appeared and were certified as valid before the actual non-write in ballots were.

Needless to say, friends, Iran is in a world of shit.

Since that time, demonstrations of the pro-reform / anti-Ahmadinejad voters have taken place in many areas of the country, specifically in Tehran where some demonstrations have numbered in the MILLIONS. Dubbed the "Green Revolution" in honor of both the traditional colors of Iran and for Mousavi's Obamaesque campaign supporting reform and change for the Iranian people, this situation appears to be the largest demonstration against the sitting government of Iran since the late 1970's when the Shah was removed from power.

It will be interesting to watch what develops. While it remains to be seen if a more democratically controlled government (that is likely to be still largely overseen and controlled in the background by the Islamic clergy) would be an improvement for the people of Iran as well as the rest of the world, I am hoping for the best...

Hospital Hijinks...

There was a bit of hilarity during my stay in the hospital that I will now share. It's a bit NSFW, so do not say that you were not forewarned!

When one comes out of surgery, typically there is a bit of a checklist that follows to ensure that things are going well. I'm giving the abbreviated version, but it starts out like this.

Is the patient:

Breathing on their own?
Conscious?
Able to move around some (arms, legs, fingers, etc.)?
Able to communicate?
Able to take a piss?

The general rule of thumb is that barring certain medical circumstances, one should be able to relieve their bladder by a certain time. Anesthesia tends to require the body to essentially reboot itself in regards to several functions, and believe me They are keeping track of everything.

At Surgery+6 hrs, the nurses began their quest for information in earnest.

"How you feeling?"
"Are you feeling hungry or thirsty?"
"Have you been able to urinate?"
"Do you feel like you need to urinate?"
"Do you feel that your bladder has pressure building?"

My answers were usually a more diplomatic variation of:

"I'm high, I feel nothing."
"Thirsty! I demand water! Gallons of it!"
"No."
"NO."
"No, now please fetch me a pitcher of your finest water, kind lady/good sir! I THIRST!"

Around S+7:30, another nurse returned to ask the magic questions again.

"How you doing?" High.
"Are you hungry or thirsty?" Yep, still thirsty.
"Have you urinated?" Um, no.

"It's been almost eight hours, Robert, don't you feel the slightest urge to relieve yourself?" the nurse asked in a concerned tone.

I closed my eyes a bit, and sleepily replied, "nope. I'm thirsty as hell though."

"You know you've had three pitchers, right?"

I glanced towards the side table where three empty water pitchers sat. Math skills eluded me at the moment, but I took a stab at it and guessed I drank more than 64 ounces of dihydrogen oxide over the course of three hours. Just using my understanding of basic river-floating mechanics, I should have sauntered off to a nearby peein' tree by now, surely.

"Huh," I grumbled, "isn't that strange."

The nurse shook his head a bit. "I hate to say this but your time is almost up. Give it a good try because the alternative is... unpleasant."

Having the good fortune of being the son of someone who worked in the medical field for over three decades, I had vivid memories of discussions of treatments that used to pepper family dinnertime conversation.

"Catheter," I sighed.

"Yeah," the nurse replied, a slight glint of male sympathy crossing over his furrowed brows, "I'll be back in thirty to check in on you. Give it your best shot, man."

I laid in my bed, holding the bedpan in one hand, the other hand resting gently on the side rail of my bed. I felt absolutely nothing but I was determined to give this a try. After five minutes of concentration, I fell asleep once more.

"Hey, time's up, man!" I heard the nurse say, "any luck?"

I woke up to find myself holding the still empty bedpan and cursed myself for wasting time asleep when there was important personal business matters to attend to. Lords knew I wasn't in the mood for... the Alternative.

"No. Damnit, no," I swore in frustration.

The nurse sighed, "alright, I'll get the cart. Be back in a few."

As he disappeared, another nurse walked in. "Still no luck?" she asked me as I lay there contemplating my fate.

"Not a whisker," I grunted.

"Need anything while he's getting ready?"

I laid there thinking, 'another pitcher of water would be nice,' but knew that would be futile. Then, I had a bit of inspiration.

"Not to be gross, ma'am, but I'm not used to going in bed. Would you mind helping me to my feet and I'll see if heading to the bathroom will help?"

She smiled, "sure. I wouldn't advise walking that far just yet though. Let's see how sturdy you are on your feet."

She helps me to stand up and turns away as I reach down to make another attempt. I felt absolutely ridiculous having a fellow human being stand there and steady me while I attempt to pop the cork. I'm quite sure that didn't help matters one bit.

"Would you like me to go turn some water on for ya?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, let's try that," I agreed, "I think I can manage standing now as long as I rest against this chair."

She helped me move the few steps over to the big chair in the room and I steadied myself against it. She moved to the bathroom and I could hear the sink taps open up.

A few minutes passed as I stood there. I hadn't realized it fully before, but I was standing in front of the open window, flashing the city of Austin. Fortunately, it was nighttime and the room was dark so my identity was relatively safe.

"Would you like me to sing you a song?" the nurse joked from the bathroom. I'd already established quite a rapport with the nurses working there with my sense of humor so I was relieved that most of them felt more at ease with me.

"Does it help?" I chuckled.

"With some patients it does," she giggled, "I have a good one."

I laughed a bit. "Naw," I said, "let me go into my moment of contemplation."

In the distance, I could hear the sounds of a heavyset cart being wheeled down the hallway. It was time to get to work.

Alright, dipshit, this is serious business.

Think... Think...

OOOO! I know! You're on the river. Mid July.

Twelve pack of Shiner Bock on ice.

Smoking a cigarette and popping open that first beer...

Hell, yeah, drink that sucker. Drink another.

River's flowing down...

Oh, man, I gotta take a...

I had never felt so relieved as to let loose with the mightiest stream of liquid gold as I was that moment. I was a human being again, urinating long and fast.

I let the moment get the better of me and I let out a small whoop of joy. I was proud of this achievement and I was going to by gods savor every moment.

And somewhere, deep within the confines of my restroom, a gentle voice sang out:

"Who's the big boy, peeing in the potty, peeing in the potty, peeing in the potty..."

Who says that hospitals have to be boring...

Rising From The Ashes...

Been rather underground last month.

Always dread February as many of you know, so forgive me my usual "Duck and Cover" of late. Fortunately, it was a quiet one for myself this year and hopefully that means the rest of the year will follow suit! *crossing fingers*

So, SitRep:

1) QTV

I FINALLY got a working copy of Dreamweaver at work and while I haven't attempted to ask if I can have a copy at home, I am allowed to work on my old site in the interests of "education, experimentation and exploration" during my breaks and lunch time. This is a good step in the right direction because I really miss working on my own stuff and if this opportunity develops into a rebirth of a favourite creative outlet, then I welcome the potential awesome with open arms.

Since the impromptu move from the old ISP has made sure to nuke the existing internal site links from orbit, I've got a TON of cleanup to do. You can now point and laugh all you like at all the broken links, missing images and Flash file (.swf) links to nowhere, how fun is that?

I believe that the main issue we're going to see is that all the internal links in the .swf webshows and shorts are going to be very difficult to repair. HTML links = easy, Flash movie links that I no longer have the original .fla files for = not so much.

I have no idea how I can go about repairing those. D and I lost touch over a year ago now and thanks to a hard drive failure wiping out my contact info last year, all that contact info is long gone. If an opportunity arises where I can re-connect, I'll see if ol' D still has those files knocking around. We shall see.

In the meantime, I'm simply going to have to figure out new things to do. I've lost contact with pretty much 75% of the site's usual contributors, barring Wonko, Dr. P and myself, so it's now a question whether I want to do something solo or attempt to find new co-conspirators. Anything is possible in the realm of possibilities, but for now I'm focusing on fixing what is before contemplating what can be.

Common theme with things I do, it seems. Heh. We'll see how things go indeed.

2) Project: BoozeTunes

As Summer slowly approaches, my mind is turning once again to thoughts of the River and of Schlitterbahn. I was toying with this idea last year of constructing my own ice chest stereo system.

If you've ever tubed the Guadalupe over the past several years, it's likely that you've seen (or rather heard) what I'm talking about. Essentially, I propose to literally build an ice chest that not only contains favoured icy beverages but also a marine stereo sound system as well.

For an example, there's this one, designed by RadioRaft. While awesome in execution, it's rather damned small. After one adds in the hardware and battery, there isn't much room for anything else.

I would almost say that this model is meant for music alone and not for the ideal dual purpose I would ideally utilize it for.

Here's a DIY model from Reggie Smith, webmaster of Toobing dot net His approach is to hard bolt speakers and the receiver on the lid of the chest itself, with the wiring and battery tucked into the ice chest itself.

I believe that a more traditional rectangular ice chest would allow more room, I'm currently dealing with the following issues:

A. Heat

Putting a receiver inside as well as speakers adds heat to the interior of the chest. While one could open and close the unit occasionally to allow reasonable heat/air exchange, condensation is also another concern especially on those humid Texas days.

B. Condensation/waterproofing

I decided to go with marine equipment because that provides greater protection against condensation and water splashing issues, however, there is a concern with keeping the exposed wiring free and clear.

C. Battery

Probably going to go with glass pane, closed system marine batteries. Lead acid batteries on the water make the Law a bit fussy. Problem is with the closed batteries is the higher cost, between $70 to $200 depending on size and rating.

D. Design

I admit, I am not the most mechanically inclined individual for the job. I have a ton of theories and some wild ass hopes and dreams, but I envision building the speakers into the front side wall of the chest and tucking the battery in on one side of the chest, leaving the other side free for frosty beverages.

My quandary is in building this so that it allows for ample beverage storage, proper ventilation, waterproofing and be reasonably aesthetically pleasing.

Two and a half months until the season starts and I'm open to suggestions! :)

How the Free World Will Conquer Communism...

You're staring again.

Hmm?

Sitting there like a fool on a stool, staring blankly at the posting screen.

Oh. Haven't heard from you in awhile. How... uh... how are things, Voice?

Wondering why you haven't driven off a cliff yet.

Beg your pardon?

You've been sitting here for about an hour staring at a blank screen. Not typing anything, just sitting there with your forehead resting gently in your hand like one big cradle full of stupidity.

Don't know what else to do. I need to do... Something.

Start with thinking.

Right, been doing that.

Continue with doing.

Ok.

No, dipshit, I didn't mean keep thinking. I mean start writing anything you were just thinking about. You can squander away months just sitting there and thinking. Write something.

Don't know what to write about.

DON'T CARE, DAMNIT! WRITE SOMETHING!

But I don't know what to write ab...

WRITE SOMETHING!!! NOW!!! DO IT!!! NOW!!!

FINE! Fuck's sake, you're pushy.

WRITE!

I uh, hmph.

Lemme grab a smoke first...

*facepalm*

For You TV Historical Types...

Found this link to the Archive of American Television on YouTube.

This channel is a treasure trove delving into the history of Television containing many in depth interviews with producers, writers, actors, executives, etc. From Harvey Korman to Carol Spinney (Big Bird), this site impresses me with the sheer volume of background info on the shows we remember and the industry who gave us them.

I suggest checking them out, it's a bowl of nostalgia mixed in with fascinating insight!

Fly In The Ointment...

Something I found for my fellow WoWheads (click to embiggen)...

It has been asked why I've been quiet as a mouse this election cycle. Many have grown accustomed to my die hard Independent views on many of life's issues, so why is it that I've steered a wide path away from discussion on this election since the primaries?

I really didn't feel like sharing. I got so tired of defending myself against those around me who could not understand why I wasn't pumped up and excited for either candidate. One colleague said to me after the last Obama/McCain debate: "Surely, you have to know by NOW who you want. You've not been paying attention otherwise."

It got a little quiet around work whenever people would gather and discuss politics and I just happened to pass by. No one really knew where I stood and that made things awkward. I don't give into "Groupthink" very often, especially in political matters, so I suppose I could understand.

It was a very interesting cycle, one that really didn't give me a ton of fervor beyond "anyone, dear lords of Kobol, except Hillary." Now that the election has come and gone, I feel in a better place to discuss my feelings.

First off, I really don't have much to say against Obama.

I respect how far he has come in such a short time and I recognize the positive historical significance of his victory, hopefully leading to better cooperation and understanding between ourselves and with the world around us. He ran a campaign based on hope, encouragement and promoting a "we're in this together, let's get to work" attitude. In times like these, a little Pollyanna "we can do this because WE CAN" attitude is exactly what we need to get things back on track.

In many ways, he has reignited a sense of optimism and good feeling about this country. Much like Reagan, Obama has unique charisma that can really ignite a crowd.

I feel more comfortable with Obama in charge than I ever did with Bill Clinton. Obama is more of an idealist, who hopes to accomplish as much as possible to benefit this country. Clinton was a charismatic idiot who hoped to accomplish as much as possible to benefit himself. Big difference.

The downside of Obama's Pollyanna optimism is the reality that he's been charging up a high bill of promises that will be difficult as hell to cash in. Right now, this country is in a state of euphoria. The people have spoken and history has been made, so let the celebration commence.

Let's see what happens in a few months once the transition is complete. Obama will come into office with a Congress that has added more Blue seats in this election. Indeed, the Senate is only a few seats shy of having a filibuster-proof majority. You would think that this would mean that Obama will have an easier time passing his agenda, right?

Time will indeed tell. My hope is that we can get through the next two years without major political corruption, wasteful spending and tax increases rising again to epic proportions. There is a reason why you do not want one party in overwhelming control of both houses of Congress as well as the Presidency. Too much temptation to fuck off at the expense of the taxpayer with little reprisal.

I'm hoping for the best, I really am. I've never been keen on either political party and have always felt that the blind faith that several of my colleagues have placed in the party of their choice is disturbing at best, but it is their choice and I should respect them for that.

As for myself in this election, I wasn't actually all that impressed with either candidate. To be perfectly honest, I struggled for over ten months to make up my mind, even up to the point where I closed the curtain behind me and started voting. Who I did end up voting for will remain a mystery here because I honestly am so tired of political chat I could scream.

I'm not one to give blind faith and devotion to anyone. You hope you made the right choices and the system runs on automatic. It is up to you to make sure they stay on task. I wish the Dems luck and hope that they use good sense and try not to take advantage of their good fortunes.

Oh, and don't raise my taxes either. I can't afford another bump, thank you very much.

A Little Housekeeping Is Rarely That...

To follow up on the last post, as a good colleague of mine pointed out, Der Bahn will be back a little early. Apparently, they're going to somehow freeze the lanes over (or lube 'em up?) to create the special Christmas "Sled Run" ride!

I have to hand it to S-bahn. If anyone can find a way to turn a muti-acre complex filled with WATER slides and pools into a bustling CHRISTMAS themed celebration, it's them. I wish them luck, I really do.

I may even pop the $14 to check it out. While I may detest the holidays, I'm a sucker for theme park holiday celebrations. If ever I can satisfactorily work out that logical conundrum, I may indeed have unlocked the mystery of the ages and will one day receive that big check made out to Science for the amount of $327.38.

Anyway, something to look forward to. I hope the sled version of Der Bahn is as bitching as the summer version. Still have to wait a month to find out... Patience. Grrr.

Oh, yes! To answer the question posed by those who wondered exactly why I've fallen off the face of the Earth this past week, I've been falling in my bed quite often, in between the magical in-depth discussions I've been having with my toilet bowl.

It's been delightful.

We've discussed, at length, the failures of our two-party system of government, the latest episode of Kitchen Nightmares and finished it off with a long marathon debate about why can I not stop revisiting my latest attempts at meal consumption. You'd be surprised how insightful a toilet can be.

Been more or less down for a week now. Been going into work since the initial first few days since I have Responsibility, but given the option, I'd stay at home and watch my Buck Rogers Complete Series DVD's. Again. For the third time.

The worst experience of the week came in the form of a nightmare I had where Dr. Phil was chasing me around with a chainsaw yelling at me for showing up to the Dr. Phil show-----DRUNK! Yes, that fat, bald bastard can run.

Woke up in a cold sweat and realized I'd left the TV on while I slept that day and I guess my brain's Dream Management Centre picked up on the fact that Dr. Phil was on and decided that it was bored enough to fuck with my mental well being. I still have residual trauma as a result, lemme tell you. Heh.

Halloween wasn't as awesome as I'd hoped because of the illness. I threw on last year's Shaun costume for the few hours I was at work, then left it on for a couple of hours at home before falling asleep to hearing Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds musical version. I observed tradition regardless and I pledged to do better next year.

The return to Standard time went without a hitch. Fortunately, I neglected to unpack unnecessary clocks, so that reduced the annoyance level. I managed to log into WoW for a bit and hang with my bro. Don't tell him I said this, because I'll deny it for the sake of the Code of Rugged Manliness, but I totally missed hanging out with him this week. We don't get a chance to see each other in RL as much as we'd like, so that's kinda what adds another level of cool to the whole WoW experience.

Plus, with the expansion pack coming out in less than two weeks, we'll have the perfect excuse to screw around in WoW some more and have a few laughs with him and the other hilarious pals we have there in chat. I'm usually only on a couple of hours here and there, but it's a nice escape when I need it.

Other than that, I must say that the Addy cat has been quite the godsend this week. While she isn't quite the fluffy pillow that Katy was, she's found a knack for doing that "making bread" kneading thing on my sore stomach. That and sleeping on it, which doesn't feel quite as good but who am I to complain?

Alright, kids, I'm logging off for now to fetch me some soup. Hope each and every one of you is doing awesome, feeling good and all that good stuff. I'll be back again soon with... something to say, muwahaahahahahahahahaha!

Arrrrrrrrrrant Corner...

First off, ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! AHOY THERE, IT BE TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY! Don't be a square and wuss out. You're working today and you know how boring as hell it can get on a Friday.

Talking like a pirate is good for you, so get out there and strike yer colours!

Now, it's been a while since I last had access to the Internets so I figured it was time to pop in and casually explain myself. Or, rather, to give you a good honest, classically tuned rant for your enjoyment.

I present to you, dear readers, this installment of Robert's Rant Corner!

*bows*

I hate poor craftsmanship.

It is because of poor craftsmanship that I had to pack all my shit, scramble to find a place, haggle over rents, maintain a high level of diplomacy that I simply didn't feel I should have bothered with, move all my shit and attempt to do all this within the span of a week and also before a category two hurricane was (or was not) coming right for me. I also hate long, run on sentences and awkwardly composed paragraphs, but that's a matter for a different entry.

By some miracle, the roof at the old place didn't collapse in on my head. It wanted to, I could tell. When you can look up through the gaping Hellmouth that has opened in the sheetrock above your head and can clearly see the sky peering in amongst the rafters above in such a way that you believe that you are in the MacDonald Observatory, you're the victim of shoddy craftsmanship.

I believe if the storm had hit, it wouldn't have taken more than a mouse fart for the entire mess to come down. Moving was required and further encouraged by the strongly, yet politely, worded letter tacked on my front door one day.

I picture the parish father opening the door to the church and seeing the letter posted by Martin Luther and I am so deadly curious what his response was. He probably sensed things were afoot, yet I'm sure somewhere in his mind he heard a little voice saying, "awww geez, not this shiat again..."

Moving sucks, but I did it once again and somehow I've lived to tell the tale. What really gives me the red ass about it is that so far during this process, I have sustained six bruises, three abrasions, had to perform minor surgery on myself to remove broken glass particles (thanks to a clumsy maneuver involving yours truly, gravity and five shot glasses), four puncture wounds and a lovely long gash on the driver's side forehead. This was achieved thanks to some clumsy maneuvering around the kitchen as I was putting things away in the cabinets.

Pretty much from the hairline to the eyebrow. Dug myself a lovely Frankenstein-esque Marianas trench to remind me over the next two weeks of my epic failure to maintain proper spatial relationships between myself and inanimate objects. Good times.

Naturally, the work crowd found it most amusing. I had a big assed (and extremely red and itchy skin since I'm allergic to latex rubber) band-aid on my forehead all day today and it became instant comedy to those cretins.

I would quip something about sustaining the injury on their mother's headboard while I was playing "I'm going to be your step-daddy" with their mom or that I broke five hundred inch-thick panes of stacked glass with my forehead to impress my sensei so that I could finally get my quadruple black belt. All of it indefensible and unfettered bullshit, true, but it did make me feel better spinning such yarns than having to say, "I done lost yon fight with yon kitchen cabinet door."

Truth is, I'm a gorram clutz. Not twelve hours later, I counted two nearly brutal trip falls into concrete, a charley horse sustained while moving my elbows on my desk and yet ANOTHER broken glass which luckily didn't cut me this time.

All this because of shoddy craftsmanship. Avast!

I also hate people who come begging me for money. They're goddamned everywhere, especially in the Austin area.

Times are tough, I know that well. While I may have a roof over my head and ramen noodles to eat, I'm barely keeping my head above water these days.

Now, I'll kick a buck or a smoke on rare occasions, but the person begging me for it had either A) Be telling the honest to Zeus truth about what their situation or need for the money is or B) If they are going to lie to me, they'd sure as hell better entertain me.

As a general rule, I am wise to their tactics. I can recognize the conversation attempt signal on their faces and my brain is already in defense mode.

"I do not know them, they do not 'know my brother or cousin,' we didn't serve in the Army together, if they ran out of gas then why is their car running, they never were my friend or distant relative, aliens are likely not giving them hand jobs at night while stealing their wallets and they are most certainly NOT going to pay me back."

Happens every fucking time I'm pissed off about something unrelated to begin with and they usually always start with a variation of the same spiel. At HEB, on the street corner, Downtown, in the country, at the electric company offices. They stand there, just waiting to piss me off more.

Not that I dare act rudely. No, I am quite polite, apologetic and emphatic to their situation 99.9% of the time. I know how it sucks to be broke and I'm not going to be disrespectful to someone just because I consider them to be a pain in my ass.

I rarely carry cash anymore for partly this reason though. I talk a lot of shit here, but deep inside, I'm a damned sucker for hard luck cases. I learned how to say no to the tired routines, but I have tipped a couple with a buck or two for making me laugh.

Such as the guy who had a sign that read, "Need money for a burger, six pack of beer and a hand job." How can anyone resist such blatant honesty?

Actually, I'm a goddamn liar. I didn't give that guy a dime. I thought about it for a minute before I realized that there were a group of firemen doing their "Fill the Boot" campaign for Jerry's Kids at the next stoplight.

Helping Jerry's Kids or helping some junkie blow his load. Not a difficult decision to make, my friends. Helping kids with nasty diseases = a Good Thing. The bum can simply take care of his "need" by himself.

I understand the plight of the needy, don't get me wrong. I've been living on the Line for over ten years now, lost one place to fire and another to storm damage and realize full well how utterly screwed I'd be if my job dried up. I'm a paycheck away from disaster and I know this well.

I also have pride, though, and know I'd be busting my ass off from sunrise to sunset to find my ass a job, whether it be in the field I'm in or even if I had to flip sandwiches at Arby's for the time being. I've seen a ton of shit in my life and know I can survive a hell of a lot. Giving up isn't an option.

I guess what I'm saying is this...

You're down on your luck and legitimately need help, fine. I'd be happy to help you if you are willing to work on helping yourself.

If you're simply out to waste my time with some bullshit story that has no basis in truth or is lacking in entertainment or intellectual value whatsoever because you feel that this is so much better than actually applying yourself to something, good luck to you.

When you think about it, is this really something that's too much to ask?

Let The Laff-A-Lympics BEGIN!!!

What a start, eh?

Should be a fun run this time around. There was a guesstimate floating around that estimated 4 billion people who'd be watching the Olympics this summer.

Amazing. Simply amazing.

Oh, and don't forget the 2008 Puppy Games. You can't miss out on this shit, believe me. Kept me entertained for AT LEAST five minutes or so!

Heh. I love puppies.

So, I got a bitchy phone call today - Pt. 2

Different customer called this past Friday with the same issue.

Time to solve the problem of pressing the "play" button on the DVD remote: five seconds.

Total length of call: 1.5 minutes.

Alright, dude, keep it together. We have a lot to get done today so let's just tuck in and keep things on track today.

The Pile beckoned. I knew I had a few things to get done today, so I didn't hesitate in diving in. I grabbed the first three orders due by tomorrow and eased myself into my office chair.

The first few hours progressed rather quickly. I loaded up the assorted videotapes into the appropriate machines and prepped some 8mm film footage for transfer. Everything seemed to be progressing smoothly until...

*plop*

Ah, damnit, that was smooth, mate. You dropped one.

I had accidentally dropped a reel on the floor just as I was preparing to load it into the 8mm transfer rig. Dropping a reel doesn't damage 8mm film whatsoever, but it is a pain whenever it happens because it usually falls beneath the table that the 8mm machine rests on. This usually results in having to get out of my chair and crouching down to retrieve said wayward footage which isn't usually a difficult or risky proposition...

*Riiiiiiiiiipppppppp!*

Ah, bloody hell! Did I do what I thought I just did?

A cursory examination of the fabric covering my lower posterior was rather revealing. Literally.

"FUCKING HELL!" I swore disgustedly as I stood and turned my head to get a better view of the situation, "Hellbollocksshitfecker!"

A muffled voice, that of a fellow co-worker, queried from the adjacent room, "You alive in there?"

"Yeah," I grumbled, "but I done ripped my fuckin' britches!"

*silence*

"You done what?" my co-worker asked from beyond the safety of my editing cave.

"My pants! I ripped the damn things."

I could instantly hear a muffled peal of laughter through the wall.

Apparently, my shame was of instant comedic value. Rightly so. Ripping one's pants, while embarrassing, can be really damned hilarious in certain situations. He was right to laugh, so no faults there.

"Suck it, assnut," I fired back, "it's not that funny!"

Co-worker coughed briefly between guffaws, "Yeah, IT IS that funny!"

Good point. I started to chuckle a bit before joining him in a hearty chuckalicious laughing fit.

Finally, the laughter died down and my co-worker decided that he'd had his fill of jocularity this morning and he decided to be helpful.

"What do you need?" he queried.

I considered this for a minute. What I really needed was a new pair of pants, a beer and a steak, but I needed to be practical. The nearest pair of work pants that I have was fairly far away and my schedule was rather busy today, so I knew that some speedy ingenuity and improvisation was required.

*thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink*

"Want me to grab you a lab coat?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah," I sighed as I resigned myself to my fate, "that'll work! Lemme find something in here to temporarily cover my ass because I have no idea which of those fits well enough to pull this off."

Another chuckle. "Ok, just don't come out of there naked or anything. Don't think anyone wants to lose their lunch today from such a ghastly vision."

Ever so helpful, my co-workers. Didn't help that for the remainder of the day, people kept calling me "Doctor."

Heh.

Vote Fiven For Gabe!

*Shameless Vote Whoring*

My sister-in-law's cousin, Gabe Garcia, is a contestant on this year's Nashville Star country music singing competition. He's a really nice guy who has quite some talent and I'd like to help throw some votes his way.

Check out the show Monday nights at 8PM Central on NBC. Voting is done over the phone, via text message or by going to NBC.com and voting on the Nashville Star webpage.

Voten FIVEN for GABEN!

/*Shameless Vote Whoring*

The Videographer And The Atheist

I sat under the shade of one of the trees outside work today, happily consuming some leftover crab alfredo pasta that I had made the night before. I was enjoying the calm of a sunny afternoon, wishing that I could be outside all day instead of working.

It was peaceful and relaxing. All was good and decent with the world.

Then, like a oncoming category five hurricane, the Atheist arrived.

I've had conversations with the Atheist before. He works in the same retail center as I do, so it's not uncommon to run into each other during the odd smoke break or two. Usually, our conversations are restricted to such things as the weather, how business is going and whether or not XYZ sport team has a shot this year.

I usually stick to the weather and business. Sports just were never really a big deal for me. I love going to events, but personally can't stand watching them on TV. I get bored way too easily having to listen to the miles of endless stats, plays and what the particular sportscaster thinks about what someone chooses for breakfast.

I do recognize the duality of my situation, I really do. For while I practically am a doctoral candidate for the area of Arcane Knowledge (Doctor of Trivial Knowledge and Useless Factoids), I just never could get into sports trivia.

Hell, I couldn't technically claim a single team as my 'favourite.' I'll usually pick up a few things about local teams that are enough to pretend interest. It's a tool of the trade, you see. A way of putting the client at ease that yes, I am a true-blooded American male and not some lowly communist subversive seeking to overthrow our Republic and American values.

I was taken rather by surprise by the Atheist's follow up question to the standard "how's business?" question. He stood there with a look of determination as I munched on my pasta.

"You're the video guy, right?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He nodded sharply before asking his next question, "How much do you charge to film events?"

I told him and he nodded again. I queried him on what event he was interested in having filmed.

"Well, it's a meeting of this Atheist action group that I help organize," he replied, "we're looking to create a recruitment video."

Now, personally, I don't really care what you choose to believe or not believe. As long as you aren't out deliberately hurting people or pestering me and wasting my time, I could care less.

I thought for a moment and said, "Alright, that sounds like a project. Think about what y'all would like to put together and get with me at the office if you are still interested."

His face lit up a bit. "And while I'm at it, you're more than welcome to just come to the meeting if you'd like! All atheists are welcome!"

I chuckled. "What gives you that impression that I'm an atheist?" I asked with a polite grin. I shouldn't have gone there. Very bad move. I just hate it when people automatically assume things about me and that always gets me into more trouble than Curiosity Cosby.

"Oh?" he queried, his body automatically adopting a defensive posture, "I just thought, ya were since you sounded interested in the project."

"Ah, no worries. I'm really kinda private on such things, always have been. I'd be happy to work with you on the project though..."

He frowned. "On second thought, go fuck yourself. Getting all high and mighty, I bet you're about to give me a sermon, right?"

"Dude, chill. I wasn't trying to start anything. All I was saying was that I believe in whatever I believe in but I'm also the type that says that everyone has a right to believe in what they want to believe. I believe that religion is a personal matter best left to the individual."

"That's retarded. Atheism is not a religion," he snorted.

I stifled a giggle.

"You disagree?" the Atheist needled.

"Yeah," I sighed, resigned to my fate, "I do. At least in the form that you are presenting it in."

"Explain," he chided.

I sucked in a quick breath...

"Basically, a true atheist wouldn't bother with meetings, action groups, posters, propaganda, lectures or invitations. Atheism in itself is the practice of believing that there isn't a supernatural force behind our creation or continued existence. There is no point in believing in a god, because he/she/it/them don't exist in the first place as Science has proven.

"A true atheist would recognize that and be content with that knowledge. There is no god, so let's live our life accordingly.

"Given the circumstances, I personally find it intellectually dishonest for atheists such as those who are in your group to rail so harshly on those who do believe in the Supernatural when for all intent and purposes, you are going through many of the same procedures of worship.

"Using Christianity and your group as an example, if you will excuse me for doing so:

"Christians believe in god and salvation through Christ's sacrifice on the cross. In this setup, you believe that there is no god and the only true path is science and human thought and reason.

"Christians go to church, which is a meeting combined with a lecture and readings from the Bible, followed sometimes by smaller group meetings and lunch. Your group also has a meeting where there is usually a lecture of sorts and discussion of books based on Atheism or related topics followed by chatting and refreshments.

"You claim Christians are out to convert the masses and bring them to church, which is funny because your group is also out to convert the masses and bring them to your meetings as well as to abandon the teachings of long ago mythologies.

"Church posts a billboard encouraging new membership, you do the same.

"Church passes the collection plate, y'all ask for a donation.

"I'm giving you the reader's digest, but I hope you understand that again I don't care a whit as to what you believe. It's personally none of my business. I just want you to recognize that based on my experience, Atheism is as much of a religion as say, belief in the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

And that pretty much ended the conversation. He looked at me deeply in the eyes to see if I was going to start preaching at him for a moment and then he stormed off.

Guess I'm not getting that job...

I'm Actually Writing Something, But Not What You Expected...

It's been a different style of writing for me. I haven't had a lot to say here in the ol' blog lately but thanks to my esteemed brother introducing me to Warcraft, I've once again discovered my writing voice again.

It was an unexpected victory for me when I found myself first typing out a short entry on the guild message board. I was not only putting words together on the Internet, I was constructing an actual story of my character's "life" in the big World. I wrote a rather embellished (comedically) account of my milestones, thoughts and feelings and posted them on the board.

I was rather surprised by the responses. People actually read and took interest in what this complete n00b had to say, though most of them had been playing for months or more. That felt good.

Part of my major frustration over the past few years has centered around being mentally blocked when it came to creative outlets. I wanted to be creative but that kind of thing is never awesome if it's forced. Let me say that it was a complete shock when I discovered how easy it felt to slip back into writing mode when I have the right inspiration.

Hell, I felt so inspired that I started doing another secret project (which will be revealed later on once the wheels are officially rolling on this) as well as to finally get serious about the QTV redesign. I have a few notes on QTV's "Phoenix Rising" operation to share with you later as well, if things move along with that instead of being another false reboot like last time.

In the meantime, I offer one of my first entries on the subject of Warcraft. I shall post some Cliff Notes below the entry for those who have no friggin' clue about what I'm talking about. I hope you enjoy! :)

-------------

A Time To Kill and A Time To Run FedEx, Another n00bish Reflection...

It's been almost two full weeks since I took a flying leap into the World.

I hadn't been too sure what the world held in store and what my place was to be in it. All I had at first was a wise brother who said, "dude, I think you'll totally dig this..."

Well, let me be the first to thank him oh so very much for getting his younger brother addicted to Warcrack, er, WarCRAFT, sorry. You'll have to excuse the obvious n00bish pun that I'm sure most of the seasoned vets in the game have rolled their eyes to after hearing it for countless years.

Can't say I blame ya. I felt the same way when I met my first n00b "Browncoat." I'll take a mulligan for the bad pun and shall go write a hundred lines of "I shalt not make n00bish puns unless I really like being tree monster food."

My first week was spent trying as hard as possible to avoid going to the nearest Boot Hill. Believe me, in the first week, I became well acquainted with every Boot Hill from Elwynn to Redridge to Westfall. Heck, I even paid the one in Duskwood a visit just to give myself a sense of achievement.

One night, I died fifty separate agonizing and variably gruesome deaths. From being beat down by the thugs of the Defias Brotherhood to getting sliced into 200 pounds of sirloin by those pesky fleshstripping vultures, I pretty much grew accustomed to being an ethereal being that night.

I kept at it though, slashing and slaying my way up the ladder. I was fortunate because I had signed up a guild that was filled with fellow adventurers who were willing to lend a patient hand and show the new kid the ropes. (Hoisting a cold one in your honour, lads & lasses!)

After a while, I began to notice that there were a hell of a lot of what I like to call "FedEx Runs" for me to do. I'm not sure if there is such a thing as the SWPS (Stormwind Postal Service) or not, but it sure seemed like it.

My favourite so far was the run from Westfall to Stormwind to Redridge to Stormwind to Westfall and back to, you guessed it, Stormwind. I racked up some easy XP and easy cash, sure, and I did learn a little more about the lay of the land, but I believe my index finger actually fell asleep while holding down the "up arrow" key. (awww, poooooor baby, lemme shed a tear of unimaginable sadness for ya... heh)

Sure, I COULD have flown to save myself the trouble, but I'm a cheapskate in nature and can't seem to justify squandering 99 copper sitting comfortably on the back of the Gryphon Express when instead, I can run amok through the forest like a crazed madman screaming Demoralizing Shouts and lopping the heads off of wolves, bandits, bears, boars and the occasional cow.

Hey, you know that cow's evil incarnate, man, don't try to tell me it didn't deserve it. Standing around, chewing it's cud. Plotting to rule the world. Cow had it comin'.

I'm sure the novelty of running will wear off in time. I admit that I can now lift a 1985 Olds Delta88 with my right index finger now, so there is a big awesome win for me in RL!

Anyway, I shall close today with a big thanks to everyone for helping me settle in. I hoist another cold one in your honour and wish you good luck and happy hunting!

-Vancinius (my character's name)

----------

Notes:

1) Browncoat is a reference to the short-lived Firefly sci-fi TV series created by Joss Whedon of Buffy The Vampire Slayer fame.

2) Boot Hill - Graveyard. When your character kicks the bucket, you appear as a ghost in the closest graveyard. You then have to resurrect by running all the way back to where you died or you have to be resurrected by another character (another player or by the glowing angel spirit in the graveyard) to continue playing.

3) Elwynn, Redridge, Westfall, Duskwood - Place names for some of the many playing areas in the game. Each location is very different in climate and geography. For the first 30 levels of play, you spend a lot of time in these areas.

4) Stormwind - Capital city of the human race in the World as well as a major city of the Alliance (the good guys).

5) SWPS & FedEx runs - My joke about the quests that involve either "hey, go take this package to this guy who lives way the hell over on the other side of the territory," or "hey, go talk to this guy over there and he'll give you another quest."

FedEx Runs serve a purpose in introducing you to new territories, pointing you in the direction of additional quests and also helping to give you a little experience for doing basically little more than just running from one end of the planet to the other.

6) The "up arrow" refers to the key that is the default for moving your character forward. It gets quite a workout, I assure you.

7) Gryphon Express - The mythical gryphon serves as easy transport between one land and another, saving you from having to squander game time by having to run everywhere. It does cost some coin to do this, but comes in handy if you have things to do.

8) RL - Real life. Reality. Life outside of WoW. Heh.