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