Well, I'm off
. One month is the plan; one month with myself, the woods, the wet, and the rain. One month of miserable drudgery in the middle of nowhere. One month watching the frigid air and the wind blow and the sky fall down. One month to appreciate the inner beauty of a city apartment.
One trail. One trail of up and down and up and down. One trail of rock and mud and cold ground. One trail of pine and birch and alder and oak and grizzly. One trail to appreciate the inner beauty of a compact car.
One lifetime. One lifetime to enjoy this world we are put on as much as one can. One lifetime to see it as it was meant to be and as it will not be much longer. One lifetime to take in as much as possible with deep breathes and open arms. One lifetime to appreciate our Mother Earth.
$5 if you can get me proof this is fake. please.
...oh yeah. i forgot. i lost my virginity a while back, and never mentioned anything about it. it went in. and it went out. in-n-out, to be precise. i find it very difficult to drive on the freeway and not make people stop. the fries are cut fresh before your eyes. they make a phenomenal meatless burger. they have oversized ketchup receptacle thingies. damn. the shakes are just ice cream in a paper cup. in fact you have to wait for the ice cream to melt before it could technically be called a shake.
reminded me of crying today, since he mentioned some dude crying.. funny that. Anyhow, what's the dealio with that? Crying. I remember the last two times I cried emotionally.
1) Circa 1985. Guinea pig dies due to what is most likely a nasty case of pneumonia. I'm quite distraught. Cats, they come and go, but *guinea pigs*.. unrelated note: some years later i discover that guinea pigs do in fact exist in the real world, live in the wild, and are not a genetic hybrid produced by the hasbro company
2) Circa 1997. Girlfriend Cries due to what is most likely a nasty case of long distancitis. I'm heading off to college in a day, it's sunny out, it's August, everyone else gets to stick around for another whole week. I cry cause she cries and then I cry cause there is a lot in there. I figure as long as I am emptying things out, I might as well do a full job of it and I never cry again in my life. unrelated note: Girlfriend Cries rymes with Guinea pig dies
My roommate tells me he sees people in public crying all the time. People at the bus stop, people in the financial aid office, people in the grocery store, people at the mall, people walking down the street. I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone crying in public. This makes me wonder. What else am I missing? What else are people doing on the street that I am completely unawares of?
When I was perhaps a sophmore in high school I got a phone call from Asia. Asia the girl, not the continent. Asia was a grade above and years beyond my realm of comprehension. Sure, she was about my age but that didn't say a thing about our differences. Asia had, at this point, dated Gabe for awhile. Gabe was sort of a crazy, skateboarding punk but he was a nice guy too.. oh, and a karate man all the way. And I think he was a devote Christian. Anyhow, Asia was a bit the punker herself in that Degrassi sort of way. She had frizzy blonde hair and a snarl and more cleavage than was appropriate, I imagine. So she called me up. I can't remember what time of year it was, or even what time of day it was, but I remember her switching grateful dead records in the background as I played the guessing game with her. "Uhh.. are you in my class? Should I be expected to know who this is..?" In the end she was interested, I guess. She was probably as nervous as I was and I'm not sure why I bugged out but I did. I calmly talked to her while my mind raced ahead, "why is she calling? does she like me? we've never even spoken before.. could I date her? would I? It _is_ a girl.. why not? what would people think? would they think I was weird? They'd think I was weird.." It became apparent that this wasn't going to work out. I kept talking with her but I played dumb and it was over soon enough. It was a long time ago and I can't remember if we had more than one phone conversation or just that one but I remember her.. weird.. colorful.. strange.. out of my league. And as I look back now I wonder if it was more that my league was out of hers? Was I that much of a snob even as a kid? I told myself at the time that I couldn't handle her but it could have been my fear that did the talking. It could have been the fear of what others would think of me. I was a victum of my own pretention. A victum of what I hated the most but I did it anyway. Sorry Asia, we could have had fun.
Don't rock the boat if you don't know how to swim.
Ever notice the next best thing is better?
Sorry, but this one is worth the link
As his mother sat there yapping on and on about his aunt's surgery and the amount of money it was costing her and oh, won't it be nice for her to be able to walk again, he piled the potatoes high on his plate in a drip-castle fashion with tiny spoonfuls. He was hoping that if he went slow enough then it would all just stop when he was done. He thought this because it just wasn't fair for it to all stop without any effort; he knew this. So he put effort into everything. Pouring milk was a chore. Buttering bread was a colossal undertaking. It took him ten minutes to cut 6 ounces of steak. When he was finally done with the potatoes his dad looked up from the newspaper and croaked out a crack about aunt Joanne's fat ankles, chuckled to himself, and returned to the sports. He didn't even like sports.
my grandfather is now pranking me.
i gave him my phone number when i went to visit him in the retirement home last week. He asked for it...said he wanted to put it in his address book.
and now he pranks me all the time; calls my phone and breathes heavy into it.
usually he gets my answering machine and he'll breathe for a while...then say something like "this is an old man" or "HELLLLLLLLO?" or "My voice sounds funny."
most of the time he just breathes heavy.
My girlfriend thinks it's cute but it's kinda starting to freak me out.
Last time my car broke down I was 2 hours from home in a light drizzle in a convience store parking lot. My friend was driving the car. All the oil fell out onto the ground, so needless to say I couldn't limp home. My car never breaks in a way that allows me to limp home. When it breaks, it breaks good.
This drizzly Saturday - the same day and weather when it broke last time - I was only an hour from home, but it still managed to break in such a way that I could not limp home. I'm sure it will cost me a fine lump of cash to get it fixed.. It's the way things work.
Oh, and my motorcycle's battery finally died.. So I had to get that charged.
Oh, and my brand new hiking shoes were kind enough to give me blisters the first time out with them.
What do you call a bunch of accountants sitting in a petri dish, smokin' up, and railing on the government?
A Counter Culture.
Christ I crack myself up.
"Some people with multiple personalities have exhibited an interesting fact: Those who have a personality with diabetes and another personality without diabetes change between needing insulin regulation and not needing it depending on which personality is active"
- Oddities And Wonders - Human Body
Why old men are great
I'm going to make a great old man someday. Not old and cranky but not old and polite, either. I'll sit around on a corner store porch somewhere spitting shells or seeds are whatever the heck I might be eating at the time. I'll make comments to the out-of-towners that they won't get and I'll oogle the young women in just enough of a socially acceptable way that they'll think it "cute", not "gross". I'll play cribbage for a penny a hole and say things like "fifteen two, pair is four, and there ain't no more" and "If you saw my hand you wouldn't be so worried, I am one hurtin' unit". I'll sneer at the new cars and talk about "when I was your age". I'll wear fashion that is so old it's out of style... for the fourth time. I'll complain about "those dang kids these days" and I'll be referring to the over-30 league that tromps into the store after games leaving mud all over the place. I'll spend my money like every day was the last day of my life.. or at least the last decade maybe. I won't clip my ear hair because I think it makes me look distinguished and I'll run my mouth off at the cops when they pull someone over in ear shot.
Course, that's if I make it.
...you'll be living on Suburbia St. in Burbland and you'll have a wife and kids and you'll sit on your neighbours porch and drink lemonade while the kids run up and down the street on their bikes and the mayor, jogging by, will stop and chat with his foot up on the first step and his hand on his knee and you'll stroll through the backyards to the next street over to visit your wife's brother and share a brew and catch the game and you'll stop by the corner store on your way home to get some ice cream for the kids and Johnny the clerk will ask you if you've finished repainting the garage yet and, gee it's hot out I hope this weather breaks soon...
BritCoal: so I am thin and waif like.. did i tell yah?
d000dguy: i thought you said you were fat
BritCoal: relatively speaking, I am thin
BritCoal: but speaking relative to something else, I am fat
BritCoal: that's the wonder of relative speaking
BritCoal: you can't _really_ be wrong
d000dguy: yes i suppose it is
Some sage advice:
If the boss sits there and accuses you of stealing, of not having the right motivation, don't just sit there and take it, hit the fucker in the face.
I hate it when people steal my ideas before I have them.
that is all.
After much arguement and disagreement I contend the following:
1) Gnomes are tiny creatures about the size of a business card (on it's side of course). They cross-country ski, wear red pointy hats, and have rosy cheeks.
2) Dwarves are stout people, almost midget-sized but a little larger. They have irritable dispositions and like Alice Cooper.
3) Elves are tall. Lanky. Sometimes five or six hundred years old, with pointy ears. A short (full grown) elf is 5'8".
4) Trolls are human sized or larger, lumpy, and ugly. They are the bastard child of an elf and a dwarf with the personal hygiene habits of Alice Cooper. They're not only cranky and irritable, they're dumb too.
If I am wrong about this please let me know. These are things you don't want to get wrong, considering you'd look like a ninny if it came up in conversation at your next NRA fundraiser.
Okay, I have a few things to say.
1) What the hell is up with slicey Mp3s? Since when were digital files so goddamn degenrative? Useless pieces of crap, frankly, but that's what I got, which leads me into...
2) Who the hell has the time and/or patience to fill out the ID3 tags on their Mp3s? I gots about 2,000 and I sure don't think that is a very large collection but hell if I'm going through them all. I get stuck for ten minutes just trying to genrize Zebda -Y'a pas d'arrangment.
3) What's more annoying?
When audience's encore-inducing clapping accidently finds itself slipping into time (which is painful if you're part of it because you're not sure whether to change tempo to fix things or to wait for the next guy to change tempo, cause hell, if you both change at the same time you'll be stuck back where you were before).
Opening bands that suck butt yet come out for an uncheered encore anyway?
4) Does anyone out there have a computer that "just works"? A car? A dog? These things don't really exist.. You know this don't you? If you think they do then you're fooling yourself and you will come home on a flat tire to find a fried computer covered in dog piss.
Yahoo - The Nation's Most Popular Vehicles
1 - Honda Accord Sdn
2 - Honda Civic
3 - Honda Odyssey
4 - Nissan Altima
5 - Honda CR-V
Honda takes 4 of the top 5. They gotta be pretty happy with themselves. So tell me again why we pay import prices for parts?
Well, let's just face the facts. Women just were not built, evolutionarily speaking, for repetitive finger clicking and wrist pivoting - aka video gaming. Extensive research has shown that, despite the larger "funbags" females often exhibit hanging from their chestable areas, they are in fact not set up for the protective role that males play in the societal makeup of the homosapien. Males, however, have developed a number of unique characteristics over the years to aid in their protective nature towards the females of the species. For one, they have developed special "pouches" on their foresides on which to set the weapon of choice - preferrably a 4 to 6 button "Joy"stick, or gamepad. Also, they have developed lightening fast reflexes to ward off the excess of rabid turtles, ninjas, fighter jets, and football men that tend to infest the boxes kept in many homosapien living areas. In many tribes the male's ability to protect his female from these dangers is a matter of social status and competitions are often held. It is also not unheard of for a male to wrestle the beast zapper away from a female and ward her away from the box in which the beasts live, for her protection, of course. All is not violent, however, as the males of a tribe can sometimes be seen huddled around the beast box observing the creatures and discussing the relative merits of the different beasts and how best to go about dealing with them.
.still no comment numbers.
Monday. always good for a little sit-back, enjoy the coffee nostalgia. How about Cartoons
?? They actually have an unofficial website??!? (oft better than an official one, if you know what I mean). I have a hard time believing these dudes weren't a product of drugs and a smurf-watching marathon.
. Man, brilliant. 1961.. who woulda thunk it? And was introduced on CBS-TV in response to the 1961 speech by FCC Chairman Newton R. Minow which addressed television as a "vaste wasteland"
. Some good stuff there, to be sure. The 3D blackboard? Who didn't want one of those!?
And how about U.S. Acres with Orson the pig, Roy the rooster, Wade the duck and Sheldon the unhatched chick. I always thought this one was better executed than Garfield in making the print to animated switch-over. Also, it reminded me of Wings. I'm convinced either Wings was based on U.S. Acres or vice-versa.
And last but not least, the question everyone is wondering, Why have we never been graced with an animated series of Mark Trail?!? I mean come on - find me one person who wouldn't jump at the idea, shout from the roof tops, bark at the moon for a chance to see Marky Mark in full animated action against poachers everywhere!
Yes, life is good.
Steps to Becoming a Complete Loser
1. Go to the bar by yourself. This does not mean go for a beer after work while you read the paper, nor does it mean stopping in on your way by to see who is playing tonight.. This means really going out, like on a Friday night. Stroll down to the bar.. drink multiple beers.. look like a complete fucking loser sitting in a bar by yourself.. oogle the women.. look despondent.
2. Go to a movie by yourself. A matinee is sort of a weak cope out here but we'll allow it. To truly master this category go to the evening showing on a friday or saturday.. preferably opening night.
3. Sit at home and smoke a bowl by yourself. Yes, that's right. You've traveled so far down the spiral that you have nothing betterto do than sit at home on the couch and stare at the ceiling.. knowing in the back of your mind that you are a complete loooooser.
4. Eat at a restuarant by yourself. Fast food doesn't count. We're talking sit down full course meal. No shish, no pizza, no fries to
go... and it doesn't count if you're on a business trip.
..give me time.. I'm working on it.
Even robots like to try and cheat
.. That's amusing.
so tonight, my neighbor had a barbecue. the same one that owns the restaurant. his friend had just come back from a charter fishing trip, and we ate hunks of raw yellow-fin tuna with our hands. there was a communal bowl of wasabi / ginger / soy sauce. The interesting part of the party was the melon. melon was brought and distributed. i declined, as i am not a big fan of melon. soon after, someone made the comment that the melon was so good, that one could hardly taste the acid. the comment was both made and recieved straight faced, making me question its invalidity. or rather, not question its validity. hmmmm. these crazy drum playing, tuna eating californians. i guess you never can tell. anyway, being a little drunk at the time, i started becoming a little paranoid that i had actually eaten some, and would soon start to hallucinate. alas, i did not. hooray!
OK, OK. so there was no acid on the melon. that was just a joke. but not a ridiculous one . . . the barbecue man told me that he never went over to this mark's old house (mark, the one who made the joke, who is conveniently a chemistry major) because that house was notorious for practical jokes. and by practical jokes, he meant 'dosing.' the four people who lived there would dose each other's toothbrushes, coffee mugs, or the odd door handle - just to make things equal opportunity. pretty nutty. although i really like the word 'dose.' i want something with which i can dose someone. "don't fuck with me, man. i'll fucking dose your doorknobs."
so i was just talking to the voice-stream mobile lady, and i see i have only used 367 of my minutes for this month, and the billing cycle ends on the 18th, where the weekend is free. so i reason that I could talk approximately 40% of all the minutes left until friday at midnight for free, that totaling up to approximately 11 hours. and i says, 'damn, i'll ne'er be able to use all my minutes.' and she says, 'but you might need them when you start using your minutes at the beginning of the billing cycle,' and i says 'yeah, and when i make some friends.' and i wasn't trying to be funny or nothin', because i actually don't have too many friends here, so i said it all normal like. but she must have thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard or something, because she started laughing and laughing, and didn't stop for about 30 seconds. and i thanked her a whole lot for her help, and she thanked me for calling voice stream mobile, and then she laughed some more. and when i hung up the phone, i guess i thought it was pretty funny too, because i laughed and laughed.
It's silly. The onion. But sometimes it's so right. I thought of this after that post below about the 5-pint beverage container : Coca-Cola Introduces New 30-Liter Size - Bottle Will Be Unwieldy, Inconvenient
I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you"
I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll ever know
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world
mm.. i needed that..
So there _are_ Cool Nerds
(tm). Who would have figured. This is a great read if you liked stuff like Rounders and Boiler Room.. even more fun when it's true, right??
And they pick on _me_ for carting around my 28oz. mug at work... *These*
people are on the right track, anyway... I mean wow, a 5-pint cold beverage container? What's next, buckets of fries at McD's?
Sweet lake water.
The wind bristles aginst my wet skin.
Lying on sun-warmed dock smelling the wood.
A cloud overhead, a long one, long in the wrong direction, covers the sun.
I try to guess how many seconds it'll be 'til the wind pushes it away. My my teeth start chattering.
Then when warmth seems an impossiblity, the sun emerges from behind the last wisp of cloud.
It's a little weird how fast I get warm again.
I miss summer in maine.
so i sit in my concrete fortress torturing animals for science's sake
in a lab
in buffalo town
10 rats and me, the science clown.
ass in numb
finger is too
where the lab rat sliced right through
I mechanically fill the cup o joe,
Trying not to work so slow
Everyday I code some more
Listening to the A/C roar.
But then it hits me, hard and fast:
There is no way I can last
So out the door I kick my butt,
To the bars: I drink, I glut.
And then it hits me, hard and slow:
I belong in cubicle row.
So I sit here broken hearted,
tried to sigh but only farted.
Now the co-workers hate my guts,
"That smelly, dirty, disgusting Putz!"
So I turn to that which baits me,
The only thing that doesn't berate me,
Somewhere in that server rack,
Runs a little process: nethack.
Redd Volkaert's No Stranger to a Tele
. Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet meet Willie Nelson and have an illegitimate child? Or something. Also, he says: "I wish I learned to run before she made me crawl".. good stuff.
Okay. Maybe I should have a little baby britcoal blog-a-thon all by myself? Okay. That's the plan.
So upwards and onwards. Some things I have learned about motorcycles:
rock. Even if they are a bit pricey and expensive to fix and, as more than one biker has put it, are torture racks.
Insurance sucks. Sucks so bad it hurts. ONE frickkkkin ticket in 7 years and I gotta pay $240 more a year?!? A YEAR? That's almost a dollar a day you blood sucking bastards. And let's not get started on motorcycle insurance. 12 month policy?? I live in MAINE you mother f'ers. I can barely ride 5 months of the year let alone 12!
Oh, and that red streak on I-95 the other day? That wasn't deer guts....
So, secretly hidden at the top of your web browser sneaking into your brain is the title The Bruce Springsteen Fan Page
Sneaky bugger. Thought I wouldn't notice.
So. The question of the day is "How many days in a row could you get away with doing nothing but playing nethack at work? 2 days? 3 days? I'm going with 4 myself, but I think the only reason I would have to stop is my own burning guilt. Everything looks *Soooo* boring now.