Holiday Cheer

Round 1 of the holidays are over and we survived! I took a little over a month off from writing but I'm back now, if only for a little while.

I don't really consider Halloween a stressfull holiday. If anything it's relaxing. There is typically no snow yet, you don't really have to *do* anything if you don't want. You just get to stay at home, hand out candy, and after the trick or treaters are done, go to a movie or party, or just stay in with some popcorn and a scary movie.

My wife and I went to see Saw 2 on Halloween night. The movie wasn't as creepy as I thought it would be. In fact, I think the trick or treaters were creepier. I'll explain.

I was driving home that night, pulling into the neighborhood sometime after 6:00pm. There was nobody around, and it was super quiet. I stopped at the stop sign to get onto my street, I looked down at my radio to change songs, and when I looked up, there were people in costumes EVERYWHERE. I mean, there were so many people they spilled out into the street and I had to drive like 5 MPH, just to avoid hitting them.

A small army of minivans and SUVs had dumped platoons of children everywhere. By the time I pulled up to the house, the candy allocated for the event was already half gone, hoovered up by droves of pint sized people and questionably sized costumed individuals. I went upstairs to get settled and change into jeans.

I could hear "Trick or Treat!" being screamed every minute or so, with the front door barely being closed before the next round of screaming caped candy villains descended upon it. Once I had changed and showered I went downstairs to help out giving out the candy. I checked the bowl - 15 peices. Well, 14 now at any rate... While I was waiting for more people to arrive, a light went out on all the neighbors houses simultaneously. I glanced at the clock, 7:01. I peeked out the window and the street was empty. No cars, no kids, nothing. I opened up the door to try and listen to see if the rampaging circus had moved on, but I couldn't hear anything.

I double-checked my deoderant, just to be sure. Then went back inside. I left the outside light on for about 20 more minutes. The madness started about 6:00 when the street came alive with people & cars. Then, promptly at 7:00, everyone was gone.

While the event wasn't scary, per se. It ranks about a 7.0 on my weird-shit-o-meter. The next day I checked the front porch for candy, because if it were a paranormal event, the candy should be piled up on the front steps because you can't actually give candy to ghosts, right? I learned later that the township has meetings every week, and the week prior they said trick or treating was from 6pm-7pm. Any trick our treaters caught out past curfew were to be fed to a grue. Here I was thinking the roaming brute squad I glimpsed about 7:05 was just part of the show. -X_x-

All Appologies

I haven't written about anything lately because I've been too busy (read: lazy). Lots of things have been on my mind and I found a couple of articles I'd like to share:


http://english.pravda.ru/science/19/94/377/12257_Martian.html


http://english.pravda.ru/science/19/94/378/16387_Boriska.html

Between work related stress, things I read online about new SONY copy protection that can hide hacks and viruses, and nazi's comming to detroit from whatever hole they crawled out of, I've been a little...distracted.

http://www.securityfocus.com/brief/34

http://www.sysinternals.com/blog/2005/11/more-on-sony-dangerous-decloaking.html

http://www.sysinternals.com/blog/2005/10/sony-rootkits-and-digital-rights.html

A Minor Problem

...one that could lead to major issues of the dental variety. You see, I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Chocolate is my drug of choice. I don't think it's an aphrodisiac, it's just so damn tasty. Hershey, Dove, Trobolone, you name it, I love it. I'm not an addict... I'm not! I just can't help but swipe one or two, ahem, handfuls from the jar at the (dentist, doctor, break room, coffee table)...

What? They are there to take. Right?

So about this time every year, Halloween candy goes on sale. I can normally avoid the big bags because they cost so much, except now, when they are all on sale! On weekends I occasionally help out with the shopping despite my loathing of said activity. Due to my lack of willpower, during this time of year I dread getting the list of places to buy candy, er, shop at. A typical list might include: Drugstore, Grocery Store, Home Depot, Hardware Store and Pizza Place.

With a list like that, I'll have 4 bags of candy and a pocketful of mints by the time I am done. WTF? I don't even know how it gets there, and sometimes I think I steal it, but no, it's right there on the reciept. I suspect the clerk lady secretly scans it and stuffs it into the bag. Probably while I am reading the stupid National Enquirer headlines.

One activity I love almost as much as eating candy, is giving candy to other people. It's the "you've got to try this!" mentality I have where I just want to share good things with everybody. I remember as a kid I had a 1 track mind on repeat: "get candy...get candy...get candy". So I'd like to give back to society by feeding a child's desire of getting candy. Jerry Seinfeld said it best about Halloween: "What, people are just GIVING away candy?! ...I can wear that."

This year, as you know, my lovely wife and I just moved into a new house in a nice neighborhood with lots of kids. Previously the past two years in our old apartment we would get dressed up with candy at the ready, and get like 2 knocks at the door all night. This year we know for a fact there will be kids everywhere! So we bought a couple hundred peices of candy.

Because my wife has married someone who is closing on 30, thinks he's still 20 and acts like he's 10, candy in our house is something kept under lock and key. My wife is very sweet and wants to let me have full access to our treasure trove of candy. She however knows me better than I know myself. Whereas she can eat a peice a day, I can eat a peice an hour. She left for work one day and I tore the house upside down looking for the loot. I never found it. She hides things very well apparently. I now know that along with Chef, I can add Forensic Pathologist and Crime Scene Investigator to the list of things I will never be. I can't find the brown in a paper bag apparently.

I found out that she will be out of town this halloween and I will be working. As a result she unchecked the hide attribute on the 'bag o candy' and it appeared in the living room. Not sure what we are going to do with 400 peices of candy. She'll take some to work, I might take some and bury it in the back yard like a squirrel, and we'll probably leave the rest in a bag on the porch for halloween. We know that the first kid to come alone will walk off with the entire bag, but since we can't be there for trick or treating, that will have to do.

Update: I failed in my restraint and moderate candy eating, so I asked her to hide the candy again. I'll stick to the scary movies and pumpkin carving aspect of this holiday. A minor problem? Yeah, you could say that...

Mostly Harmless

It's not like I've been the fat kid in little league that always gets picked last, but I sure never get picked first. All along I figured I just wasn't destined to be popular. More recently I've begun to understand my lot in life. I'm mostly harmless yet totally clueless and kinda clumsy, as anyone who knows me has probably concluded. While those traits are sometimes cute and not enough to get picked on about, they don't exactly win votes for homecomming king.

I work hard at my job, I obey my wife, try new things, spend time with friends and family and play the lotto at least once a week for a dollar. Hey, it only takes one to win. I figure if there is 1 in 12 billion chance that an asteroid will kill all life on earth and some theorize that in 875 years one WILL hit our little blue planet (source: www.space.com), we might want to consider moving to Mars or risk having a really bad 3rd millenia. At least we should play the lotto and enjoy what little time we have left.

To those of you who think I'm whipped for obeying my wife, trust me guys, its easier that way. My wife and I have very hard heads and each want to do things our own way. I get a voice in the important things and that's all that matters so I'll take a backseat to everything else. Besides, I get my sippy cup refilled every now and again and my diapers don't leak too badly. Having to wear the damn helmet around the house after my "Silent Like Ninja" episode kinda sucks though. I overheard them say something about "special needs". What do I care? I got ice cream, bitches! :)

The other day I ate the last of the homemade salsa which was kind of greedy of me since I think I ate ALL of it from start to finish. I wanted to help out and decided to go to the store and pickup more ingredients. Aside from surprising my wife with good salsa, I also wanted to learn to make it myself. You see, my favorite food is mexican and me learning to make salsa would be like giving the cave man fire.

Speaking of fire...how hard can it be to make salsa? It requires none of this thermal substance what-so-ever! Well I'm not sure how I fucked it up, but I'll try to retrace my steps:

Start with the list, it's where anything starts when cooking is involved, even if shit is no bake. Jalapeno Peppers, check! Tomatoes, check! Cilantro (the leafy stuff), Onion, & a pinch of salt, check!

Step 1: Remove the liquid and seeds from the tomatoes and dice.

Hrmm, I didn't see dice on the list of things to buy...why do you need dice for salsa? Ok, skipping the dice. How do I get the liquid out of these tomatos? Cut the top off and squeeze of course! Fuck! That was messy. I'll have to clean that up later after it dries. Ok, lets try cutting them in half and scraping the insides. Fuck! That was even messier. I liked those shoes too. Ok, next tomato. Hmm, maybe if I cut the top off I can just suck out the seeds. That worked fairly well, but in retrospect I probably shouldn't put that one in the salsa. It tasted pretty good, but now I had one less tomato for the salsa. Shouldn't hurt right?

Step 2: Chop a handful of cilantro.

How big is a handful? I got pretty big hands. I grabbed a grubby fistful of leafy goodness and chopped away. I figured my hand wasn't part of the recipe so I was careful. Man, its really hard to chop leaves. What the fuck, don't we have a grinder or something for this shit?

Step 3: Cut jalapenos in half, remove half or most of the seeds. Dice very tiny.

But I don't have any dice. Maybe they mean chop very tiny? They need to fire whoever edited this article for content. Ok, I have two peppers that are roughly the same size. So if I cut one in half, I can take out all of its seeds, then just chop the hell out of the other one. Man this part is easy. Hmm, this next one seems to have a few more seeds than the first...

Step 4: Combine in bowl, add a pinch of sea salt.

What's a pinch? I got pretty big fingers. *looks up pinch* Well that was decidedly un-helpful. Maybe they mean teaspoon?. Ok, I'll add that and mix it all together and put it in the fridge and get to cleaning up this mess...huh? What's this unchopped onion doing here? I'll just put that back in the drawer and get back to cleaning...

In review, it turns out I am REALLY bad at this. I forgot onions completely, was missing an entire tomato on account of I ate it and then added enough sea salt to kill a small animal. Also, as I found out, all of the heat from a jalepeno comes from the seeds. My masterpeice of delicious was less along the lines of delicious edible concoction and more like the Dead Sea Salt Salsa from Hell. On top of all that, when I was done cleaning the kitchen I still smelled like ingredients and jalapenos. After washing my hands twice just to be sure, I still smelled like peppers.

Mistake 1: I put my finger in my mouth to bite my nail (a very bad habit I know) and lit myself on fire. My hands still had hot peppers on them! How the fuck?? Ow, dammit, my tongue! Now, I'm trying to wash my hands again I splash water on my face.

Mistake 2: I instinctively reach up to wipe my nose and eyes with my hands, cause I had water up there, yo. Shrieking ensues, small animals & birds in the backyard run for cover. Shrieking continues for several minutes and I wipe a few more times to remove the burn...

At this point I'm in the kitchen clamoring around blind as a bat with my eyes, nostrils and tongue on fire trying to find something, anything! I can't see shit and OMG it burns! I didn't even know a nose could burn from pepper juice! After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to use my screaming as sonar to find something like the sink to wash my eyes out, I give up and just stand there to let the burn go away enough on its own so I can see again. I really wish it would stop, I have to pee. (that's a whole other event we just won't go into here) I had kind of a mess to clean up that night.

When my wife got home I forget to tell her about my salsa event, but she did comment on how clean the kitchen looked. I can only describe the sound the emanated from the kitchen as Satan giving birth. I sat on the couch frozen in place staring at the doorway to the kitchen as the screaming continued for several minutes. My first instinct was to hide, but I don't think that would do very much if the house burnt down around me.

She wasn't THAT angry for long. I think she felt sorry for my culinary skills, or lack thereof. Bio-hazard I think was the term she used to describe my cooking. I was also banned from using the kitchen for a week.

So my skills in the kitchen arena remain as of yet limited to tacos, steak, hot-dogs, mashed potatoes (usually), ribs and anything out of a can. Oh, and I am STILL looking for all the goddamn dried tomato seeds. Who knew that when tomato seeds dry they are goddamn cemented to whatever surface they dried on and are impossibly small to see?!

*sigh* Chef Jim I am not. Mostly harmless? You betcha.

In a Nutshell

No, I'm not referring to the millions of acorns that rain constantly down upon my house, though I should be. It's almost like an en masse attack while my wife and I hunker down waiting for the bullets to subside and for the army to advance and clean up whoever is left over from the massacre. Sometimes a really big one hits the roof or side of the house and it sounds like a squirrel chucked it like a grenade. The yard is littered with leaves and shell casings and looks like a battlefield. It's probably one of the most breathtakingly beautiful seasons of the year. I love autumn, even if I am under attack by conscripts of the natural world.

What I really mean by 'In a Nutshell' is that I saw this comic online and it pretty much summed up my relational life with my wife. For all intents and purposes I am a hardcore gaming geek. Despite all my love of the beauty that surrounds me, I spend more time the digital realm than here in good ole reality. I am known as the master of plebs, the conquerer of worlds, the commander of soup (don't ask), et al.

When it comes to girls, or rather women, I kinda scratch my head a bit. I think I even once mustered the courage to say "Heh, yer a gurrl. Yer purrty ". Which is to say I have about as much game as Shaq had a movie career.

I met my wife at work with her being the intelligent, soft spoken vixen who could see past my skillz (or lack thereof) and see me for the person I am inside. We just kinda clicked. Sure we, from time to time, have our non-clickyness moments, but who doesn't. Imagine if you will my chuckle when my mom found out I was dating a girl and it turned serious (as in marriage), then asked if the girlfriend was older than her or young enough to send me to jail. Guess she was surprised that it wasn't someone desperate or naive. ;)

So how I landed someone as sweet and well rounded as Sarah, that just wants me for who I am is anyone's guess. And before anyone asks, I've never even seen absinthe, let alone been able to get ahold of any. That being said, I just spend time with her watching movies, doing home improvements, going on vacations and such, and she lets me play my video games. And on occasion I get to touch her boobs. It's a win win situation all around.

http://www.movie-comics.com/comic.php?strip_id=241

^_^

Jim the Toolman

After getting married I expected to give up a few things here and there. I'm not fully neutered yet, but it won't long before the men in white coats show up with the tin snips. I have however, learned that when my wife has a project in mind, it's best just to go along with it. Its safer that way.

We decided to host Thanksgiving this year as we wanted the opportunity to let our families see the new house. There's just one problem: wallpaper, lots and lots of wallpaper. The previous owners had wallpaper on the brain. I think whoever wallpapered our house needed something to do, because they even wallpapered the grates. Not just in any old way, but they actually took the time to line up the patterns perfectly and cut little strips and glue them to each fan on the grates.

It's all flower wallpaper from the 80's too. My wife's mom loves the wallpaper. I told her she can have it when we are done ripping it off the wall if she really likes it. I am probably going to put a peice in a box for her and give it to her as a gag christmas gift.

I have to say, despite being up all night till 4 am, our bedroom and the downstairs bathroom are looking sweet. Our bedroom is now a Tuscany style and the downstair bathroom is tiled modern contemporary. Tile and crown moulding are a bitch to install. Not really hard, it just takes a LOT of time to try and make all the pieces fit perfectly. I had some good news in that I got to play with power tools for like 8 hours a day. We ended up buying a wet tile saw cause it was $50 to rent, or $90 to buy.

Home improvements are fun and I'm glad my wife is a slave driver cause my lazy ass needs motivation. :) I've got the home improvement bug we just have to break for a few months to save some more money, what with the holidays approaching. We just finished the bathroom project and the house looks like a bomb went off. *sigh* Time to clean up the mess.

My Nemesis, Part 2

It had become a morning ritual. Every morning the woodpecker would drill on the outside of the house. My wife would wake up and startle the hell outta me by banging on the wall. I'd get up to try and kill the woodpecker and she'd remind me to put on clothes. One morning my wife hit the wall so hard, I expected to wake up and see her hand through the wall. I imagined her pulling back a fist full of feathers after having choked the shit outta that bird.

Goddamn woodpecker is making me exhausted and I don't have the energy to kill 200 bugs a day just to stem the tide (see: Block Party). I was outside looking for the woodpecker, clothed of course, and I noticed something strange. Expecting to see a woodpecker's ass on the side of the house, imagine my surprise when instead saw his head. He was looking back at me, from inside my house! I run out at him trying to shoo him away, but he pops back into the hole in the attic he has made. He was like that annoying frenchman from Monty Python & the Holy Grail - taunting me from the rampart.

I must be the world's biggest jackass, cause I went back in the house, and squeezed up into the attic by way of a 2'x2' square to wait for the bird. So I'm in the attic with a bb gun for like an hour. My ass hurts, I'm hunched over and its hot as hell. With no sign of the infidel, I finally give up and go back outside and find him perched on the tree just outside the hole. As he sees me, he flies back into the attic.

At this point I am looking around for the camera crew and the little kid controlling a mechanical bird while giggling manically. Obviously I'm not that lucky. I go get the electric saw, liquid nails, and some scrap 1x4 I had laying around and McGyver a thick woodpecker door (minus the hinges) and truge up into the attic and try to seal up the hole.

I stretch out to reach the far corner and apply my "woodpecker-be-gone device (tm)" while trying not to either impale myself on the 4 inch shingle spikes or glue my hand to my face. I have breathed in so many insulation fibers that I think I might die soon. My death will be meaningless if I can't get rid of this nuisance.

I have not had a better nights sleep. That night was an uninterrupted heavenly bliss. The next morning I was downstairs lamenting over my victory at breakfast when I hear "tap tap tap tap" on the other side of the house just as I was about to take a bite of cereal. Son of a...

Block Party

Here come the bugs! Today I have killed 4 spiders, 37 rollie pollies, 104 mosquitos, 13 ants, 1 monster sized mosquito (like an inch long), 1 centipede & some moths.

I ran from a giant wasp, got the crap scared out of me by the neighborhood cat that jumped at the bay window to eat a bug and found a dead lizard. I didn't even know Michigan had lizards.

Whoever said there was a party at my house needs to be slapped or at the very least bring some chips and dip. I love the birds, rabbits, cats, oversized squirrels and well fed chipmonks. They're on the guest list. Even the occasional deer can stop by for a drink. But I feel like Alan in Jumanji - "In the jungle you will wait, until the dice read five or eight."

One of these days my wife is going to find me dead stuck to the wall by spider webs. The more I kill, the bigger they get. But I learned my lesson - AHHH!! BUG!!! SMASH!!!

Silent, like Ninja

Ever since I was a little kid, I've always had this thing with learning my way around in the dark. I know my way around the dark in my house and can remember exactly where everything in a room is when I close my eyes. I count stairs. That has to be my most self annoying trait. I count them as I walk up or down. In my head of course. I don't need to blare out on a loudspeaker - Hey everybody, look at the escaped OCD mental patient!

I can remember every house I've ever lived in and the only one I never walked around in the dark was the one in the mountains in Tucson. For those of you not familliar with Tucson, AZ, this house was not a hermit shack in a deserted mountain refuge, it was an older western foothills area. We were renting a house with more problems than Emily Rose's Exorcism. This house had fist sized spiders, killer honey bees, voracious ants, poisonous frogs, fist sized spiders, electrical wiring that caught fire randomly and a hottub that nobody went in because it foamed mysteriously and made a sound like the opening of the gate to hell... There were so many things that go bump in the night, the dog had a nervous breakdown and hid under the bed and refused to come out. We finally had to give her away to some old lady. Poor Kristy.

But other than that minor setback in my training, I've always found it helpfull to learn your way around in the dark. Like when you first turn out the light and have to go 10 feet to turn on the next. Of course you've got to be light footed and non-committal in walking. If you walk with purpose and pull a jackass by tripping on a shoe or run into a wall you can mess yourself up bad. I've gotten so good, I am masterfull in my art.

My wife disagrees. Okay, she flat out laughs at me. I made a few mistakes - I step on boxes and random pointy objects left out by someone, kicked the cat twice, fell on the dog four times, ran into walls, ran into the bedroom door, ran into the bathroom door, fell down the stairs, stubbed my toe on the couch, ran face first into the pole in the basement, tripped on the automan stool, tripped on the garbage can, ran into a spider web that was spun in my way, ran away screaming into the dark while I could feel the spider crawling on me, ran into the wall again, knocked over chairs, left hand prints all over the walls trying to stop running into shit, finally stumbling into bed landing on my wife who was already awake from all the other noise I've been making. She said it sounded like the Home Alone bandits broke in and brought their pet rhino with them.

Other than that, I'm completely Silent, like Ninja.

A Use for SPAM

I admit, I'm an addict. A very special breed, while not unique in having a vice, I'm just filled with such happiness I can barely contain myself. For some its alcohol, others maybe cigarettes or sex. There are even some addictions for the truely derranged and socially inept. My addiction? More of a fetish really. I need more spam. Lots of it. More messages in my comcast DVR, text messages in my cell phone, computers calling my house, emails that fill up my inbox with all kinds of offers!!! I just wish I could put a chip in my brain just to get MORE SPAM!!

I've been watching for years and now I have successfully devised a way to get more Spam than anybody! My secret? I'm not telling you! But I have a plan with all this spam I have been getting. I am on my way to a better life!

I really want to meet those deparate housewives that want to be naughty while their husband is out of town. Those crazy bitches email me at least 19 times a day. Chill ladies, get some batteries while you wait for the love master to arrive! I really liked the email from Sandy Cracks, she sounded like a real beach vixen. She probably lives somewhere fancy like Malibu and her too-busy-for-sex husband is out banging the metermaid in Venezuela on company time.

Hmm, but first I am going to get me some penis enlargement pills and some sex prolonging pills just to make sure I am the sex god she has always wanted! While I am waiting for my penis to grow, I am going to "Work-at-home making $3000 a day" and be "losing weight guarenteed!" and replying to every chain letter I get just to make sure I don't get any of that bad luck.

I am going to cash in that "Completely free vacation, completely free!" that Sam keeps calling me about. I have my choice of destinations and Vegas is pretty close to Malibu, maybe he'll just let me go to Malibu instead. I'll give him some of my penis enlargement pills, he'll like that. I know, it means sharing my treasure trove but its a small price to pay for getting an STD in Malibu. In fucking Malibu!!

OMG, I almost forgot, Billy Q. Jackson texted me about a watch the other day. I need one of those, plus the deal was too sweet to pass on. "1 1/2 off a Luxury watch"! Holy horney toads a watch were they'll pay ME half the price just to take it? Tell me more baby! Oh wow "Sleek and Gracious...look fabulus and work grate !"!! I've GOT to get me some of those. I need the extra money and I get a watch, what more can you ask for?

A lot actually, cause I am going to take those watches and donate them for cash to the company that sent me a message via my comcast DVR. Paid to take watches, paid to donate watches! I'm going to be a thin lucky work-at-home millionaire sex god with an STD from Malibu! FUCKING MALIBU!!!! Life is perfect!

The Dowry

The dictionary defines a dowry as a gift of money or property given to the groom by the bride at the wedding. It also says it can be a gift given by the suiter to the father of the bride for permission to marry the daughter. Obviously these practices don't really apply anymore - at least one would hope we have travelled out of the dark ages.

My wife and I had a small beautiful wedding with people we love and even though we wish we could have invited more people than our budget had allowed, the gifts were not real high on our priority list. Sure we had a registry, but you should have one for people who would like to buy gifts, to give what you would like.

I recently read an article about worst wedding gifts. My boss walked over while I reading this list and because my eyes were so wide with amazement he said he thought I was looking at porno. After reading this article, I started reading more on my lunch break about other worst wedding gifts. I decided to compile a top-ten worst wedding gifts of all time: And folks, acording to the forums and the stories that went with them, these are supposedly no shit real gifts given to couples - mostly by Mother In Laws, with a couple "gifts from friends" sprinkled in.

"A regifted tray (with the original card to the regifter included with the present)"

"Fertility idol (the one with the huge PENIS sticking out of it)"

"A hand-blown vase that looks like a hookah with a note that says (you'll need this)"

"A really ugly art piece involving a cow tooth"

"A cartoon character cookie jar signed (for the kids) and still having cookie crumbs in the bottom"

"Dollar-store picture frame with price tag still attached"

"Mounted can opener with the UPC code removed (so the giver could get the rebate)"

"An emergency survival kit, which include blank Divorce and Annulment papers. (just in case)"

"Porno Playing Cards"

"A book called Why Men Love Bitches"

I'm not much for wanting to get gifts. I'm the kid that gave my mom a christmas list one year that only had TLC written on it. However moved that she was, she insisted that I make it include objects she could buy, I would have been happy without. Yet, this top-ten contains the equivalent of leaving a couple of dimes and some pocket lint in a restaurant, except with that little extra personal FU flare.

And people wonder why I lose faith in humanity a little more every year.

Alone in the Dark

It never really occurs to me how much I depend on electricity more so than when the power cuts out. Its like somebody takes a knitting needle and pops that perfect bubble of resource consuming reality. With a final bang! from the stereo speakers, there I am, no sounds, no music, no talking, nada. The crickets, frogs and other assorted nighttime noise making creatures seem unaffected by such things. In fact, if anything they seem more invigorated and lively, as if now they finally have a captive audience and they must play their symphonic concerto as if their little lives depend on it. Then I remember watching Animal Planet, and their lives DO depend on it.

It slightly amuses me that even in the dark, I reference TV for mundane things.

Normally when the power goes out, somebody in the room says something along the lines of "just perfect" or "great..." or if you live in my house, any number of brightly colored adjectives that describe our thoughts about the power cutting out. But I was home alone watching TV when the power went out a few nights ago and for a few minutes, I didn't really say or do anything. I just sort of sat there in the dark and stared off into the black abyss that was now my living room. Almost as if the boob tube held a peice of my consciousness inside it when the power went out and now comcast was just holding my soul hostage. If the power never came back on I'd be stuck sitting on the couch crosseyed and devoid of conscious thought.

Soon I twitch and even blink. Not long after that my body stirs and I can look around. It's like a new awakening. Gone is the familiar hum of the 100 AMPs of power coursing through the walls of the house like blood through veins. Gone is the sound of bad acting and commercials convincing me to ask my doctor about viagra, penis enlargement pills, or purple pill fucking nexium. And for one moment I'm glad I don't have to listen to another commercial about throw away mopping pads and toilet bowl brushes that remind me about how irresponsible companies are fucking us out of our civilization's future.

After about five minutes of quiet reflection and bliss, I realize - damn those crickets and frogs are really fucking loud. Plus, I'm bored. There is no light, I couldn't even read if I wanted to. I have no idea where a flashlight is if we even have one. I have candles and no matches. I don't really do any portable gaming and my feet smell. So much for taking a shower. Man they really stink, how did I not notice that before? And those damn frogs and crickets are REALLY LOUD!!! There must be 5000 of them camped DIRECTLY outside the window!

Then I hear a noise outside, like a rustling in leaves, which is probably a snake, but just then I notice a jogger run by in the dark and my spider sense starts tingling with that little robot screaming "Danger Will Robinson!" This is it, they are comming for the cleansing. I am witness to my last few moments and should cling to them like that frog choking that pelican to death as the bird gets ready to eat him with a caption that says "Never Give Up!"

After about an hour of overactive imagination considering things anywhere from "They're comming to get me" to "I wish I could see more stars" or "I bet Brazil is nice this time of year.", I am mentally exhausted. I call my wife using my cell phone which I found after knocking just about every lamp and knick-knack off the coffee and end-tables. I inform her that the power is out and there is no storm or bad weather and that her shows won't be recording tonight. She seems disappointed and hopes she can play Devil May Cry 3 on the Playstation2 when she gets off work. I tell her my feet stink and she says "that's okay sweetie, you'll be fine sleeping on the couch if you can't shower."

After exchanging our I love you's I hang up the phone, let out a deep sigh and roll over and try to get some sleep. I really should learn to be more at home without all this technology anyway. Counter-Strike isn't a sport, Azeroth and Morrowind aren't real vacation destinations and the Stargate program doesn't exist. As a kid I wasn't allowed to watch much TV and was perfectly happy running around in the woods and fields behind our house climing trees and lost in my own imaginary places of Grimm. Thinking back on fond childhood memories and vowing to get out more, I start to drift off to an early bedtime.

In true Jim fashion, nothing ever stays the same long. The power flicks back on, all the lights and the TV turn on, devices start whirring the walls start humming once again. Its like a circus of noise that drowns out the crickets and frogs which I just got used to listening to. All my senses were so slammed I half expected a clown to do a cartwheel in front of my wide startled eyes.

I get up and wander around turning off lights I didn't remember turning on in the first place and sit down in front of the TV. My short attention span fixated on the changing colors and lights once again happily lost in an episode of Futurama. My previous musings about being content without electricity are just a distant mirage in the back of my mind. Besides, the bikes have been sitting so long in the garage, spiders have taken up residence. Who am I to break up a happy home?

The Unholy Menace

Not much has been happening lately. Just been amusing myself with the computer games I have, but mostly just to avoid the mundane chores of cleaning the house. We finally finished cutting the baseboards for our bedroom redesign. After we are done with this little project, it will be sweet as hell. Owning a house is a lot of work, but a lot of fun.

It was a nice night, so we opened all the windows. There's nothing like a good breeze. I was feeling good so I asked my wife if we could watch a movie while working on cutting the baseboards. We had just borrowed House of 1000 Corpses, so into the DVD player it goes and we get to work, cutting up boards while the actors cut up bodies.

I think we scared our neighbors. Shortly after we started watching they all ran inside, closed the windows and bolted the doors. They probably began praying for our salvation. We live in a pretty quiet neighborhood with seemingly nice neighbors. I think they may all be religious because when I wake up at like noonish on Sunday, I am barely scratching my ass when I notice some of them comming home from somewhere all dressed up nice and fancy.

I have an update on my other neighbors, the one young guy (late twenties) and his new wife who are staying with his retired parents while they get on their feet, is really nice to me. Him and his wife always smile brightly and give a hearty hello. I know it can't be that I look good naked, but may very well be they think I am a psychopath (read: My Nemesis).

Between the movie choices I have (Harry Potter, anything with Zombies, Vampires and ass kickings), my hatred of the morning sun and the hilarity that becomes my life when I am woken up too early by crazed birds, I think I am truely the Unholy Menace of the neighborhood. An uneducated new age heathen. My white collar clothes are my sheepskin with which I used to make a pact with the devil in order to become a member of this established neighborhood. One without the correcting arm of an all asshole home owner association. I half-expect someone to wander over and try to convert me to their secret suburban society, the one that has kept them safe for 20 years. Like a bad xfiles episode or the stepford wives, if I were to refuse, they would all gather at my doorstep with torches and pitchforks ready for a cleansing!

...back in reality...

The sun is shining and the breeze is relaxing as I sit in the living room watching out the picture window in the front where everything on our little cul de sac is really peaceful. People go about their own business oblivious to the fact that my own personal apocolypse is occurring in my head. Maybe I've just watched too many movies. Of course, that's what they want me to think. Then, just when I let my defenses down...

Highlight of the Day

If you have ever played an FPS game of any kind, you'll enjoy this. If you have ever played BF1942 or BF2 you'll love this:

http://www.somethingawful.com/articles.php?a=3097

It is probably the funniest most accurate depiction of every public gaming server for BF2 on the internet (and some of the private ones too).

If you aren't a gamer, you might not find it as funny.

Best Laid Plans

So this weekend was like most others - house chores, laundry, video games - with an added twist of having to decide between relatives and work related issues. It wasn't even my work related issues, it was my wife's.

The story starts around my cousin's graduation. My wife and I couldn't make it to MN because I couldn't get the time off work. I figured no big deal, I'd send a card, everything would be peachy. Then he said he was having a get together on the weekend of July 23rd.

My wife's company picnic was on July 30th. Several weeks pass and we get an invitation - "My Cousin's Grad Party II" (sounds like a leisure suit larry episode) was also on the 30th.

Shit, now what.

I was torn between wanting to visit family but also financial continuance. On my wife's review they said she needs to socialize more with the team. Whatever the hell that means. So we figured the picnic was the best opportunity to engage in said activity.

So, genius that I am I figure we can go to both. Let's just say, trying to do 2 things at once leaves you not really doing either very well.

As I was contemplating Saturday's activities and how I could have better maximized the time, a little flying ant landed on my keyboard. Being that I was deep in thought my first instinct of - AHHH! BUG!! SMASH!! - was repressed and I decided to use a screw driver and poke at it lazily. The damned thing turned and attacked the screw driver. I don't mean inspected it, I mean wanted to tear it apart. So I poked it with my finger from the other direction. Well it must be having the worst possible day an ant can be having because I probably weigh a million times more than it does and it turned and flew at my face and bit me.

Being the strong man that I am I did what anyone would do when confronted with an angry insect assault: I screamed like a 12 year old girl, threw my headset in the direction of the ant, fell backward in my chair, & lost my robe trying to do the "get it off me dance".

Searching for the ant, it had occurred to me that my opportunity to smash it or to exact any sort of revenge for being bit in the face had come and gone. My hesitation left me with an empty feeling of being violated by an insect.

Advice for the week: When you see a bug, trust your instinct of AHH!! BUG!! SMASH!!! Don't be that jackass in every movie that reaches out to touch the creature that looks small and harmless, it just might kill you. "Aw, look how cute he is!" *CHOMP* o_O

My Nemesis

Let me preface this by saying I am not an animal hater by any stretch of the imagination, but I'll be damned if that woodpecker will get the best of me.

My wife and I live in a 2 story wood house that is surrounded by hundreds of trees. More trees than blades of grass it seems. We live in the city or rual area, whatever you call it, backed against a Nature Preserve (Michigan term for swamp / undevelopable land).

Every morning between 5am and 6am there is a rapid 'tap tap tap' on the wall outside my bedroom. This one woodpecker lands on the side of the house right next to my head (2nd floor bedroom). I used to bang on the wall and he'd fly away, but we must have some tasty bugs in the side of the house because he is back everyday and more persistent than ever, while less and less scares him.

Two+ weeks of this go by, every morning we bang on the wall and he stops, listens and continues. I think I even saw him once land on the window ledge and peek in. My one open eye shot a sleepy glare in his direction. I swear to god, he smiled mischieviously at me, flew back around the side of the house and started pecking again.

Boom! Like a flash I shot up outta bed, out the door, down the stairs leaving my wife sitting up sleepily wondering where the hell I was going.

So I'm in the yard looking for that damn woodpecker, but alas he has flown off into the woods, probably watching from a safe distance camoflauged in the trees. Then I hear a car door shut and the turning of a key. It's one of my neighbors going to work. He probably would have said hello except for the fact that I am standing in wet grass, 6:30 in the morning, fully naked, holding a BB-gun and looking up at the side of my house and searching the trees for apparently, something to kill.

The fact I had forgot my robe or any clothing what-so-ever hadn't occurred to me in my frenzied half-sleep rampage out of the house. The birds weren't chirping that morning, they were laughing their collective asses off.

I went back into the house with what was left of my dignity and when I told my wife that I think someone might have seen a crazed naked man running out of a house with a BB-gun in the wee hours of the morning, she laughed so hard, she couldn't get back to sleep. Neither could I. I kept thinking I'd have to explain that someday and I could hear the conversation play out in my head. Ever tried to explain that you aren't a hairy savage that hunts his breakfast in the morning with nothing but a birthday suit on? Me either. Yet.

Damn woodpecker...

Shit Balls

Is this thing on? What do you know, my first blog.

First Post!!

... hate those people.

Anyway, cool beans, now I get to post my opinions on the interweb where millions of people can read about it and not care what I have to say!

Sweet! >_<