I hate getting up early

Wow.
Even on Christmas, getting up before 11 is not where I want to be. I really wish that the parents and I could work out an arrangement wherein I get to wake up at like 2 in the afternoon and that would be okay. It'd be like a second wave of presents: you'd be enjoying the first set, then suddenly "WHAT'S THIS? Klaus is coming with MORE PRESENTS? I don't know if I can handle this!" But I give sweet gifts, so you could.

Side note: it is hard to wrap a bowl in such a way that it does not look like a bowl.

Other side note: My brothers gift from me took too long to arrive in the mail, and sadly, the folks at Apple won't let you just buy an iPhone box. I love giving the gift of false hope.

who flung shoe?

yeah, yeah... somebody flung a pair of shoes at President Bush. Ever the culturally aware, CNN, Bloomberg and all the other news outlets are thoughtful to point out that 'flinging shoes is considered an insult in Middle Eastern cultures.'
Really now. is there any place where throwing a shoe with that level of fury is considered a blessing? If some guy starts flinging size tens at me like they're ninja stars, I don't care if they're meant to carry 1500 years of cultural significance: I'm ducking.
Fortunately, Bush's experience in dodging things (like the draft) came in handy.

The life of crime

(via FARK)
These two Florida thieves stole more than 4 dozen breast milk pumps from a Port St. Lucie area Babies 'r' Us. story
surprisingly, this man was not in any way responsible.

Election 2008

Well, McCain lost in a particularly spectacular manner.
What's more interesting is that Ted Stevens continued with his campaign, despite being indicted on 7 charges. You'd think that his opponent would be quick to pick up on this.
Well, one must congratulate him on a splendid campaign, even though he may very well end up in a place where 'series of tubes' has a different meaning.

Someone saved my life tonight

A study by the University of Illinois is reporting that the Bee Gees song "Staying Alive" should be sung during CPR, because the song's tempo closely matches the normal human heart rhythm, and this will lead to less people dying.
Remember, the choice is between dying and hearing that Goddamn song one more time. Choose wisely.

free-fall

Economy sucks, in case you haven't been paying attention to the news.
For the record, I totally called it. Did anyone listen? Nope. I'm exploiting this one for all its worth anytime I have a hunch about the market.

Personally, I kind of hope that we hit another Great Depression, just so we can complain to our grandkids about how they've got it easy.

the first woman president

Any discussion of Sarah Palin's inadequacy and inexperience has to include the line "She's one 72-year-olds heartbeat away from the presidency". But come on people; you've got to give John McCain a little more credibility than that. If anything, cancer will get him before his heart gives out.

The Debate season

let's be honest, trying to figure out who won a presidential debate like last night's is like trying to figure out which supermarket checkout lane is winning - I don't think it can be done. Obama sounds a little smarmy, McCain looks like he's trying to hold in a massive fart.

The VP debates will be another issue. it seems the McCain Campaign has learned their lesson, and is putting a muzzle on their pitbull.

You have to realize that Palin is just like a pitbull chasing a car. yeah, she might eventually catch it, but that doesn't mean she knows how to drive.

I really like that line because there's a subtle 'women can't drive' joke embedded in there.

random thought of the week

Sarah Palin. no, not the guy from Monty Python.
She might be the first Female vice president, which would be a historic moment, were it not for the fact that Geraldine Ferraro could have done the same thing 24 years ago. Basically, it's the Right's way of saying 'we're only 24 years behind the Democrats'

where does Sarah Palin get off saying that she's a lot like Hillary Clinton? Does she really think women are that stupid?
"hmm. does she share my views on Abortion? no. Does she share my views on Gay Rights? no. does she have a vagina? yes. I think she has my vote."
let's not kid ourselves. A more effective speech would say 'All you lonely guys won't bother to check out my positions on any issues relevant to you, because I have tits.' This would be especially effective because all the guys would hear is "guys, check out my tits"

Ebert and Roeper need not apply

Disaster Movie, the latest installment in the series of increasingly-sucky parody movies, may be the only movie where the review of the movie is contained within the title of the film itself.

random thought of the week - olympic edition

Here we go with another random thought, delivered in a semi-weekly fashion.
I, like all Americans, have been watching Olympic swimming, and nothing else.
Anyways, At the start of the Backstroke races, I did not know that a start was required than from the blocks. So, when everyone jumped in the pool to get set up, I just thought that they were splashing around. I know that I would have yelled 'cannonball!!"

This may be one reason why I'm never going to the Olympics.

random thought of the day

It has come to my attention, that Isaac Hayes, the singer of the famous and iconic song "Chocolate Salty Balls" has died.
you have to realize that somewhere out there, there are people who don't know about Shaft.

random thought of the week - olympic edition

Ahh, the Olympics. the spectacle, the glory of the gold, the blatant attempts on the part of the presenters to avoid saying something that would piss off China. Because I don't care about China getting mad at me, I'm doing a special olympic edition of my blog.

Now, WTF is up with these parade uniforms?

This is not the PGA Tour from the 1950's, I swear.

Designed by Ralph Lauren, a designer who really wishes he were from England, these outfits aren't very... American. These scream "British". Well not scream, that wouldn't be proper, but they at least say it in a firm but polite tone. They look like something out of an Agatha Christie novel. The only thing you can do in one of these outfits that doesn't look weird is walk around going "Hurr Hurr Hurr".

because "too soon" is not in my vocabulary

today marks the one year anniversary of the 35W bridge collapse. To this day, I still feel like singing hat nursery rhyme 'London Bridge' makes you an asshole.

In other news, we have reports that as many as one fourth of bridges in America are structurally deficient or functionally obsolete. You're less likely to win the lottery than to be involved in some sort of bridge incident. Have a nice day and please don't pull a Chappaquiddick.

Google does not need my expertise

As many of you know, Google has made their wikipedia clone 'knol'. the difference is that an expert in a particular field creates and moderates a page... something on which they are an expert. Sadly, Google does not share my opinion that "not getting laid" is article worthy.

random thought of the week

4chan is down. I only recently started visiting the site, so I'm not aghast at the fact that I can't view the scrapings from the very bottom of the internet barrel. 4chan is the asshole of the internet, but if you haven't shit in 4 days, it is cause for concern.

a random thought

I'm in Rapid City, South Dakota right now, so I'm at a crossroads for a number of tourist traps. A billboard advertising for Deadwood offers 'Free Gunfights Daily'. I think Detroit needs to highlight this angle.

ANWR is a party

Gas is ass-expensive. Anyone who doesn't think this sucks deserves to have their bike stolen and their vegan burrito shoved in their face. But my distaste for people who are all too prepared for the gas-ocalypse is overshadowed by the seething hatred I have for the people who aren't ready at all.

Some argue for using our key oil resources now, to ease the burden on the poor people who decided that a 100-mile commute to work was a good idea. To do so will be disastrous, but instead of boring you with a reasoned argument, I'll use a metaphor of questionable morality.

---------------------------------
Let's say you're a guy at a typical college party. Near the end of the party, you've got to mentally change gears from "I'm gonna get hella wasted" to "I'm gonna get some action tonight". Incidentally, America is at a point where we can make the switch from fossil fuel-based power to alternative sources of energy. But fuck that, bro. We've got bigger concerns on our minds.

Like all parties, there's only so much alcohol to go around. Eventually, they'll run out. But there is time enough for one more beer run: ANWR. The beer run will make sure that more people can drink what they want. Yeah, you're pretty wasted dude, but a couple more couldn't hurt.

But then you see her: the really hot chick from your o-chem class. (Here, played by a sustainable and viable alternative fuel source). Yeah, you could go with the fat chick of diesel or the slut of hybrid cars, but you'll feel like shit in the morning for that. You need something a bit more long-lasting, a choice that you'll keep coming back to you and won't cut out.

You could go up and talk to the hot chick. You don't know her that well, and there's no telling how long it'll take for her to agree to go with you. She's a hot chick: she can take all the time she wants. The longer you talk to her, the better your odds, but who knows how long it'll take.

Or, you could chip in a few bucks for the beer run, but by the time the really hot chick agrees to go with you, you fucking better be ready to go. At this point, the more you're dependent on alcohol to function, the worse you'll crash when it runs out. So just start talking to her now man. But first dude, unpop the collar. It makes you look like a douche.
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I like to think that my reasoning is solid. Argue with it if you want to.

There is Some Justice in the World

George Carlin is dead. I'm sure you've heard by now.
I will say this much... he was funny right up until the end. That alone makes up for the fact that he's dead and Carrot Top isn't.

Here's to you, Mr. Carlin. I hope you enjoy your new underground venue.

Happy birthday to me (part one)

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry".
This is an expresion you don't hear a lot in normal conversation. When people say it, usually it's because they've been wanting to say it, and they blow it on some situation that's not emotionally ambiguous. I honestly can't think of many times when the decision is really hard. let's look at the facts:

things it's okay to laugh at:
-The idiocy of small children. some people use the euphemism "cute kid stories"
-Fred Phelps
-Finally taking over the world (maniacly)
-Those stupid emails forwarded to you by the guy in accounting who really needs friends (but not too much; you don't want to encourage him)
-The guy in accounting who really needs friends (just be sure he's not around)

Things its okay to cry about:
-death
-taxes
-onions
-your inevitable mortality and the realization that your life is an elaborately constructed lie about your success, virility and happiness.
-breaking up with your boyfriend (applies to both men and women)
-another losing season (applies to men who have painted their bodies with colors not usually seen in nature)

as you can see, there isn't a lot of overlap. hearing the news of Fred Phelps' death might count, but laughing makes you an asshole and crying makes you the sort of person I'd want to hit with a moving van. But some things push people into cliche-land

My birthday is one of those events.
the day before I turned 19, my computer broke. as an individual who uses facebook as a substitute to real interactions with people, this was devastating. I called one of my geek friends, and learned that the problem would be easily fixed by re-installing the OS. it didn't work, so I said that I'd go to the apple store and get it fixed there. sadly, this would have to wait until Tuesday.
Fate: 1, Klaus:0

Technically the next day, but really later that night, I went out partying with a group of people I was facebook friends with. could have been a lot more awkward than it was, and I had an okay time. the problem was that the group was trying to find a particular party, which on a 4 day weekend can be a hard thing to do. instead we went to somebody's house and ate fast food. I had breadsticks. something about being really tired makes fast food amazing.
somewhere along the way, I lost my student ID.
Fate: 2, Klaus: .5

unable to get food or use the computer labs, I mooched off my roommates, using their computers and meal swipes to survive. I just know I've abused my mooching privileges. I haven't yet paid for laundry soap or ibuprofin all year. Fortunately for my ability to keep doing so, the campus quasi-police found my ID on Monday night.
Fate: 1, Klaus .5

Tuesday was perhaps the pinnacle of my ability to get away with stuff.
I have a bio class that can be summed up thusly: the planet is screwed and its all our fault. because of this, I can take notes AND register to vote AND apply for a job.
My application was supposed to include 3 sample photographs and a 300-500 word essay on what I found interesting about journalism. I could not deliver these requirements before noon. When faced with a task that requires more work than can be accomplished in a given amount of time, most people give up. These people get thrashed by people like me. I pull justifications from out of my ass, wheedle and beg the question in ways that would make most slackers bow down and worship me. What my application did include was a link to my flickr account, 60 words written on the back of scratch paper about student journalism, and 40 words on how I don't fill essays with bullshit. if this worked, it would rival putting a man on the moon.

after class, I dropped off my voter registration card.
"have you registered to vote?" asks the girl behind the desk
a sheet of paper drops.
"merry christmas" I say, walking away.

shortly thereafter, I arrive back at my dorm where I wait for the guy I bum rides off of to give me a lift to the apple store. he says that I should wait an hour because he only got 2 hours of sleep last night. does he nap during this time? no. he watches an episode of Lost online. eventually, we drive out to the apple store.

Certain people should not be allowed to own nice cars. this guy is one of them. at stoplights he'll pop the clutch, accelerate and slam it back into drive as the light turns green. you can actually hear the transmission begging for mercy. He's the only person I know who will accelerate up to red lights. we get lost headed out to the store, and he learns that he's had his gps set to 'minimize freeways' rather than 'maximize freeways'.
we can't get an appointment until later that night, so that means another drive that almost induces pants-shitting levels of terror.

Later that night I grab all the stuff I'd need to show for the guys at the apple store.
"what are you doing" says The Guy I Bum Rides Off Of.
"we've got appointments for later tonight" says I, your humble narrator.
"I signed up for tomorrow"
at this point, my brain went into full What The Fuck mode. I knew he signed up for tonight. signing up for tomorrow would be douchy. did he honestly sign up for tomorrow? or was he so dense that he did not know how to use a calendar? A little more arguing proved that I was right, he caved in and off we went.

Somewhere along the line, my computer problems went from "kinda fucked up' to 'very fucked up'. my geek at the apple store plugged in an external hard drive that contained some kind of macintosh magic and all kinds of wonderful and bizarre things appeared upon the screen.
"your hard drive is about to fail" he said. a solution would be to run downstairs and buy an external hard drive. with luck, and some more of that geeky witchcraft, they could save my data. I purchased a rugged external hard drive that sounded like you could run it over with a truck. my geek plugged it in and started my dying computer up. my machine whirred and made noises, but my geek gave me that look of concern that Morgan Freeman has perfected.

"I'm sorry. your hard drive has failed"
Klaus: 1, Fate: 9999