Spam and Smapsibility

Actual, unabridged contents of a spam email I just got from one Yoshi Chestnut:

She had never forgiven Robert for killing him.That made him angry too. Dareon was not supposed to be making up songs about courtesans. He

Check Stunning Low priced Medication http://www.newyearsalebargain.cn

continue with this folly?is going mad. What of our brave Ser Loras? How often does he call upon his sister? Garin reined up beneath the willow. Wake up, you fish-eyed lagabeds, he called as he leapt down

---

It’s the same Hotmail®. If by “same” you mean up to 70% faster. Get your account now.

Wait! I agree that Dareon's songwriting had crossed the line and sure, Ser Loras can be kind of a freak with his sister (WTF's up with that, am I right?), but I'm dying to know what happens to the fish-eyed lagabeds!

Tell me more about the lagabeds, Yoshi!
I guess I'll just have to wait for faster Hotmail. Blast!

How to deal with the economic downturn

Stand on your head. Then it's an upturn!
It's that easy!















If you're wondering if this photo was taken at the company holiday party, umm...

No comment.

Grammar, please

For the last time:

Breath is what you take, breathe is the act of taking breaths.

Spelt is a grain, spelled is the past tense of spell.

Their, There & They're - Possession, location & contraction, respectively. There shouldn't have to be a Facebook quiz about this!

Width = how wide
Depth = how deep
Heighth = NOT A WORD. Were you thinking of height? Yes, I think you were.

That is all.

Dork out.

Thanks December!

End of the day, end of the week, almost the end of the year.



















I don't care what anyone says. I'm a sucker for a good wintertime sunset.
(reproduced poorly here by my camera phone, but trust me, it was breathtaking...)

Downsizing

Since I've been thinking WAY too much about my online activities or lack thereof, I've realized that I'm nearing the bursting point of my own personal tech bubble, as it were. Don't get me wrong, I'm crazy about the new web toys and tech buzz and all that, but it's getting kind of top-heavy and time-consuming.

That said, some changes are in order. I've decided to make some networking layoffs:

Twitter: I really tried, but my attention span is just too long for this. Or maybe not long enough. See? I don't even know what this service is good for. I don't work for Obama, I'm not in a touring band and I'm not a Mars lander. No one wants to hear what I'm doing every 5 minutes, least of all me. Tweet you later.

MySpace: I honestly can't remember the last time I spent more than 30 seconds on MySpace. I used to go there all the time and it's still great if you're a band that wants a free website, or if you enjoy testing your seizure threshold for Flash banner ads, or if you need to stay current with what [alt/metal/hip-hop/teen movie superstar-of-the-minute] is up to. Facebook's got me firmly under its minimalist, Web 2.0 spell for all my personal e-socializing needs. ByeSpace.

Under review:

This blog: Ha! Just kidding, I could never quit this blog. I mean, unless you think I should. Would you like me more if I blogged less. Or less if I blogged more? Because I can change, I swear I can! This was just a goof. That is, unless you take it seriously, then it's totally for real. Whatever you want, baby.

LinkedIn: The only reason this one didn't get the pink slip is because if my paranoia that I will someday need it to find another job. And LI just sits there until you use it, which is refreshingly unobtrusive. Plus, my dad is on it. LinkedIn stays in for now.

IM: Mixed feelings. I hardly ever use IM (nor am I in high IM demand, truth be told), but there are a few people that I would otherwise never talk to without it. Plus, it's faster than texting and usefully linked to my email. IM on the fence.

Skype: Our home internet sucks, but someday it might not and Ida and I have loved ones outside the US that would really dig the free VoIP calling. Do I believe the Skype?

Staying on:

Email, duh
Text messaging, also duh.
Facebook
Youtube
Flickr

Additionally, you'll find a bit more info over on the sidebar now, as I've deleted the old basilharris.com site and just redirected the URL traffic here. It's like moving in with your parents! If your parents were a website and you were a collection of links to loosely affiliated, narcissistic web accounts and pages.
Which, apparently, I have now become.

So now that ducks are slowly assembling in a row, this should be the last of the blog posts about blog posting. What to talk about now? Fashion? Politics? Opera?

Greetings from the new vanguard

An excuse explanation has presented itself for my lackluster blogging schedule of late.

Apparently, it's called Slow Blogging and I for one welcome our new web-slacker overlords who're advocating for:

"...a willingness to remain silent amid the daily outrages and ecstasies that fill nothing more than single moments in time, switching between banality, crushing heartbreak and end-of-the-world psychotic glee in the mere space between headlines. The thing you wished you said in the moment last week can be said next month, or next year, and you'll only look all the smarter."

Well, well well. Looks like there's room for a seasonal, roadside, homegrown, variable-hours farmstand in the world of Mega-mart blogging after all. Just goes to show that "behind-the-curve" can quickly become "cutting-edge" once everyone else reverses direction.
It's like that scene in Modern Times where a loitering Charlie Chaplain finds himself suddenly (and literally) waving the red flag at the head of an angry mob that happens to be sweeping through.

Yeah, it's exactly like that, I think.

MoveOn said I should post this, but I think they're paranoid

First of all, YES, we do need to keep the pressure on. We need to keep fighting, we need to behave tenaciously, determinedly and with focused and tireless effort for our will to be realized. We need to behave like the Republicans would if their man kept getting good news served up on a plate.
However, I got this email from Adam at MoveOn.org today and I have to take issue with all 5 of the reasons he gives for keeping the heat on [italics are mine]:

TOP 5 REASONS OBAMA SUPPORTERS SHOULDN'T REST EASY [sez MoveOn.org]

1. The polls may be wrong. This is an unprecedented election. No one knows how racism may affect what voters tell pollsters—or what they do in the voting booth. [Yeah, they may be, but the moon might also crash into the earth someday. Humans are stupidly addicted to peer pressure. Colin Powell, The Salt Lake City Tribune, the Chicago Tribune - all conservative outlets, btw. Don't discount the human nature to follow the masses. Racists don't say they'll vote for Obama just because they want to please pollsters. They call themselves undecided or hang up the phone at the words "political poll". If anything, I'd predict more self-identified Republicans and conservatives secretly voting for Obama.]

2. Dirty tricks. Republicans are already illegally purging voters from the rolls in some states. They're whipping up hysteria over ACORN to justify more challenges to new voters. Misleading flyers about the voting process have started appearing in black neighborhoods. And of course, many counties still use unsecure voting machines. [Too little, too late. An effective GOP smear machine would've planted these seeds months ago. McCain's and Palin's attacks have thus far been duds. This one has no strategy - no Karl Rove - and won't hold any real Swiftboat-style weight. ACORN's not Whitewater, it's a voter's rights org. Pass.]

3. October surprise. In politics, 15 days is a long time. The next McCain smear could dominate the news for a week. There could be a crisis with Iran, or Bin Laden could release another tape, or worse. [See above scenario vis-a-vis the moon crashing into the earth. Eyes on the ball people.]

4. Those who forget history... In 2000, Al Gore won the popular vote after trailing by seven points in the final days of the race. In 1980, Reagan was eight points down in the polls in late October and came back to win. Races can shift—fast! [Numbers are so scary! Seriously, what's the point here?]

5. Landslide. Even with Barack Obama in the White House, passing universal health care and a new clean-energy policy is going to be hard. Insurance, drug and oil companies will fight us every step of the way. We need the kind of landslide that will give Barack a huge mandate. [So, you mean we have to keep working AFTER the election? Gosh, I thought we just pressed the Obama button and a better country popped out! Landslide? Try rolling avalanche. Again, think of what the opposision would do and has done to keep their agenda front and center these past 8 years. We need to do that. Only, you know, with less evil.]

It's true we shouldn't rest easy yet, I'm just miffed that MoveOn thinks they have to stir up scare tactics of their own to remind us of that. Anyway, sign up to volunteer at your local Obama office. It'll make Adam happy.

Wired magazine says I should stop blogging

They told me I should quit behaving like it's 2004 and get on board with Facebook posting and Twittering (see left [UPDATE: see right]) and Flickr live feed video conference update yadda yadda blah blah. Nobody cares about me, the casual and erratic social blogger, anymore. It's all about actual "news" blogs and LOLcats now. These beets are made of dinosaur dust and dodo dreams.

But I enjoyed 2004. Things were different back then, before the iPhone, back when a text message really meant something, you know? I miss those days. How long until regular blogging becomes retro-chic? I can wait, I don't have to be anywhere til 3:30 today.

I know my posting has been anemic of late - the Google analytics graph of this site looks like a Kansas cornfield in December >rimshot!<.

So maybe they're right. Maybe I should stop blindly following the imagined demands of those who rely on weekly updates from me and begin blindly following the imagined demands of those who crave up-to-the-minute, CNN ticker-style tweets. Imagined demands are still demands, after all.

But I'll never stop fondly recalling the days before Vista and Leopard. When Internet video was still code for "adult entertainment" the kids still vaguely remembered VHS. Those were the good times, people.

Beets never forgets.

How to go insane

Step 1.

Search keywords Clinton, Obama, DNC, McCain, Economy, Iraq, etc.

Step 2.

Select news item from the findings (washingtonpost.com for best results)

Step 3. 

Read article, vow not to read comments.

Step 4. 

Read entire comment thread.

Step 5. 

Lose mind.

It's that easy!

I've been published. Kinda...

I submitted a dumb graph to GraphJam, my new favorite time-wasting site. Check it!

'S'funa, right?

You can vote on it here (or somewhere in the vicinity) and if it gets enough votes, they'll post it to the main site. 

Support my stupidness! I command you!

Who sent me this shirt?

This came to me in the mail on Friday with no name or note included.

Don't get me wrong, I love free t-shirts and all, and this one comfortably rides the line between ridiculous and juvenile (c'est moi!), but um...

Who do I have to thank/reprimand/by a beer?

Did I win something?

Will this shirt get me in trouble?

How come all these awesome things keep happening to me?!?!

City of Contradiction

I have a pretty great view from my desk at work. On particularly slow work days (like, um, today), I've been known to pause mid-keystroke to watch a ferryboat trudge across the bay or to consider the real estate value of one of those condos perched on Alki point. Even in bad weather, the view is still pretty great. This is a realization I came to while working at the Space Needle, actually: Seattle looks good almost all the time.

Since our offices are located in a older building (no double-panes here) above a busy street near Pike Place Market, though, my daily soundtrack is a series of events I can hear but not see - tires screeching, unattended car alarms, sirens, blaring horns, those damn Duck Tour loudspeakers, obscenities and random shouting (alternately frightening and entertaining and sometimes in connection with the Duck Tours), and a guttural chorus of engines large and small. Regardless of the auditory assault, the corresponding imagery always looks something like this:

It's a bit of a disconnect, I must admit.

Release the brilliance!

Today, in honor of my mother's 60th birthday, IFC Entertainment releases My Effortless Brilliance as part of their Festival Direct series, among other things they do. 

No time to talk - I must clear off my box spring for the piles of money that I will soon use as a mattress. For you see, in the eyes of cable TV subscribers everywhere, I will, no doubt, presently become like unto a star. A distant and tiny dim star, to be sure, but somewhere in the flooded galaxy of digital media, I will have arrived. 

Where do I pick up my baggage, I wonder?

Also, I have a used mattress which I will let go for $300,000 OBO.

Happy Birthday, Mom. 

I hold you partly responsible for all this.

Legalize it

Dear Santa-

This year for Christmas, I would like for you to legalize marijuana for all the good boys and girls. Even for the bad boys and girls. I don't really care. 

I know Christmas is a long way off and you're still probably on vacation in Tahiti or somewhere, but I needed to get my request in early because it is so important.

Here's why:

Today at my job, two of my coworkers were talking to each other about buying weed. Of course, they didn't use that term ever. They said things like, "I was interested in meeting up with your friend" and "When is your friend in town?" and "Should I contact your friend directly?" Then they would giggle and exchange knowing smiles and agree with each other about nothing in particular. 

I have to be honest, Santa, I hate potheads with an unreasonable and probably unwarranted passion. They speak in riddles have insipid little rituals. I hate them because they let me know they're potheads by trying to keep it a secret and they get all mad when I call them on it, usually in a loud and irritating tone.  I must admit, it gives me great satisfaction to see them act as if the DEA is about to burst through the door at the very utterance of the word "marijuana." Ah, good times.

Nonetheless, I am asking you to legalize pot so I don't have to put up with their intricate and futile rites of secrecy and self-righteous pseudo-politics about how alcohol is worse for you than pot and there are no documented cases of lung cancer associated with smoking dope. First of all, I KNOW alcohol isn't good for you, that's why I drink it. That's why everyone drinks it. Do you know what we call people who go on and on about the benefits of alcohol, Santa? We call them a cab! Get it?

Seriously, Santa, everyone knows the war on drugs is a joke. Recreational pot use is all but accepted by the general population, or at least ignored. It's being prescribed by doctors and state laws are actually protecting sanctioned growers. Can we please just close the loop and make it official? 

I'm not sure I can deal with much more incessant tittering and badly-veiled tokers' code in my social life, let alone my workplace. 

Legalize it, tax it, make it as normal as buying a 6-pack at 7-11. Maybe that'll shut those stupid hippies up.

Thanks Santa. Have a great summer.

Your friend,

W.G. Beets

When the lightning strikes

Something great about hearing throughout the day that more than a few people were jolted awake last night by the same, soul-shattering thunder clap around 5 a.m. 

I remember thinking, in my sleep-intoxicated, partial dream state, "This is so cool. I hope the baby doesn't get scared. Thunderstorms are the best. I wonder if that just hit a treezzzzzzzz..."

A cool, muggy summer night with gigantic electrical explosions coming out of the sky:

It is a divine thing, indeed.

Classic lit or classic rock?

The answer is not always so easy.

Twain's Huckleberry Finn

OR 

Rush's "Tom Sawyer"

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

OR 

"Frankenstein" by The Edgar Winter Group

Melville's Moby Dick

OR

John Bonham's drum solo in the middle of "Moby Dick" by Led Zeppelin

Orwell's 1984

OR

Van Halen's 1984

Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut 

OR

Breakfast in America by Supertramp

Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre

OR

"Jane" by Jefferson Starship

Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

OR

"Uncle John's Band" by The Grateful Dead

Nathaniel West's The Day of the Locust

OR

"Hocus Pocus" by Focus

Henry James' Portrait of a Lady

OR

"Lady" by Styx

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

OR

"Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)" by Jimi Hendrix

Somerset Maugham's Of Human Bondage

OR

"Tied to the Whipping Post" by The Allman Brothers

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

OR

"8 Miles High"  by The Byrds

There are no correct answers. Or rather, no incorrect answers. 

Only small actors.

Who never ask stupid questions.

Or something.

Addendum

...to this post.

(With props to Dakwallah. An old friend and smartypants with a boyish grin and an adorable family. Seriously, you should meet them.)

Now, unleash the fury, my stupids!

Cotton

Two years ago today, we got married. Still, the only thing I can pull from memory about that day is a series of colorful sketches - clothing, jewelry, flowers, the sky, green grass among faded brick. It's all still a warm, broad-stroked blur. I'm glad there are photographs to put sharp edges on some of those impressionist images.

I remember smiling so widely and for so long that I had to physically pull down on my facial muscles to ease the strain.
Trembling on the verge of tears as I read my vows and as Ida read hers to me. Embracing as a married couple for the first time as if our brief moment on the stage had been an eternity and we'd been miles apart, even though our apartment was right down the street.

The day was color and sun and music, out-of-town family and well-dressed friends all sunglasses and smiles, buoying up our already full and racing hearts. It was Dave J.'s getaway car with classic rock blaring out of the speakers literally carrying us off into the sunset, tired feet and wet cheeks and all.

I'm proud of what we did that day. I'm proud that we did something so regular and everyday and made it our own. I'm proud that we even made Mr. Rich cry and that we were still able to say our vows on the upswing of the minute-hand like we wanted, despite a late start.

I'm proud of our life together, G. Thanks for saying yes. I hope we'll both always keep saying it.
Happy marriage, long life.

Cheesed off

It doesn't take a genius to gather how much I love tacos and types of food associated with tacos. I'd say the main clue would be the fact that I have a functioning digestive system, because come on: Tacos!

What you may not know is that Ida and I are a bit choosy when it comes to Mexican food. Our honeymoon was guided, in large part, by our proximity to quality authentic posolé and homemade tortillas. However, we don't consider ourselves complete snobs about it, since as we all know, tacos should only be used to promote unity and love, never conflict. (I got your "immigration reform" right here...)

So it was with increasing frustration yesterday that we circled the grocery store three (3) times in search of queso fresco to use in Ida's delicious and easy-to-make enchilada pie:

First pass - Hm. We must have missed it.

Second pass - Let us ask someone. [ask] Okay, she said it's in the other cheese section. Of course!

Third pass - All right, you stay here, I'll go alone. We can't both freak out in front of the baby.

A store that carries every type of cheese from virtually all of the recognized cheese-making nations - France, Italy, Russia, Greece, England, Turkey, Spain (I know!), Ireland, Scotland, Canada, Germany - fails to carry (fails to carry!) the most basic staple of great authentic Mexican food besides corn, chilies and avocado. 

Unacceptable!

But gee, why not just use sharp cheddar or Colby jack like Red Robin does? Or grab one of those bags of pre-shredded "Mexican blend" cheeses? Might it be because those cheeses have NOTHING to do with actual Mexican food?  Per-effing-haps!

Hear this, grocers of America: The Mexicans are coming, despite your best efforts, and they are bringing their delicious delicious food with them. So try as you might to distract us with your uninformed, vaguely xenophobic and quasi-racist, "that kind of cheese is only available at specialty cheese shops" line (you mean like one of your other stores, Mr. Corporate Grocer?!), you'd best believe that the soft, crumbly, salty queso will be on your face when it comes time to pay the cheese piper.

And also, what in the DAMN HELL is THIS?!

Don't tell the Tin Man

Though I believe you might run into a problem here.

Robot plays dumb until robot sees its chance...

[Muchas gracias to habeas cornchip for the image. The colors match so well with the blog, don't you think?]

Some Changes

Re: your Lexicon of Current Acceptable Pop Culture Slang, category 12d, terms of derision/excitement/adoration/food/geography/cats/human anatomy/music/movies/popular first-time novelists/the Internet/sharks, please note the following updates for the 2008 spring session:

• Both douchebag and the shortened d-bag are replaced with "a-hole." You may still use the douchebag hybrid beta test, "deeb."

• Similarly, and as a protective measure, awesome will be shortened and made slightly less easily-accessible by converting to "a-some."

• Used in its adjectival form, "fucking" is replaced with the lighter, more portable "effing". Its verb usage is unassailable and remains unchanged. 

• When absolutely necessary, nachos and vacation may be shortened to "'chos" and "vacay", respectively.  

• "Resto" is not an acceptable substitute for restaurant, since no one ever says "resto" under any circumstances whatsoever because it is stupid and pretentious. 

• Using "va-jay-jay" when referring to the vagina has been retroactively banned universally forever, especially in print. Because what are you, 19?

• New York City may only be referred to as "NYC" in print or in the context of the musical "Annie."

• When someone remarks, "I don't care anymore", any reference to Phil Collins should be avoided thereafter. The same rules apply to all other Phil Collins songs that contain lyrics.

• "Your mom" has been temporarily replaced with "YOU are" as the default answer to any question, regardless of subject, tense or context.

• While private enjoyment of LOLcats is always encouraged, public conversation regarding them is no longer appropriate. 

• Any phrase that appears in a t-shirt advertisement on MySpace has obviously jumped the shark and will no longer be tolerated.

• "Jump the shark" may only be used if the speaker can accurately track its origin. 

• Chuck Norris was pretty good in The Delta Force and the Missing in Action movies. That's about as far as it goes with him.

• The phrase "Succotash my Balzac, Dipshiitake" is now hilarious again.

More updates as they happen.

That is all.

Sources: Dave J., Ida S., Harper, JSF, The STFU Institute

We're Going to the Movies!

I don't often use this sacred space for shameless self-promotion, but-

Wait, can we take that again? I didn't feel like I sounded sincere enough.

Do you think I sounded genuine? 

Okay, are we still rolling? Okay, let's just take it again.

Ahem.

Dear readers,

I do hope that you and all of your friends will come see the films that I am in this year at the Seattle International Film Festival, of which there are three. You can find out more about the wonderful festival - the largest on the continent! - here.  Specific details about the films I'm in can be found here.

Really, if you want to see anything at the festival, you should act now, as people in Seattle do love their artsy, indie, filmy-films so. You wouldn't want to end up in the lobby, crying in your popcorn, because you couldn't get into the big show. 

Because, come on. That's a waste of perfectly good popcorn. 

Don't embarrass yourself.

Best Wishes,

W. G. Beets

Great mystery of life #276 (at last I've found you)

File under: "That one thing? I can't remember what it's called. I saw it years ago on PBS, I think- what was it? I wonder if it's on YouTube somewhere?"



Less a cutting-edge bit of cleverness these days than an effective learning tool. But I'm still glad I finally found it. Let's hear it for Canadian women making indie films in the 80's!

The Boy at the Door

A short play in one act

(Based on actual events)

Scene: A Sunday afternoon. A couple and their young baby sit on the couch in their apartment, reading. There is a knock at the door. The MAN gets up to answer it. He opens the door to find a ten-year-old BOY, slightly stocky and dressed in camouflage pajamas, looking up at him.

MAN: 

Hi there.

BOY: 

Um, uh...

The BOY looks at the MAN, then at the wall, then the floor, then shifts nervously, then looks at the MAN again, then at the wall, figets, looks back at the MAN, figets, is about to say something, hesitates, looks at the floor.

The MAN smiles patiently and says nothing. Then,

MAN: 

What can I do for you?

BOY: 

Um... uh. Um. Um... uh. Are you new here?

MAN: 

Nope.

The BOY looks at the MAN, then at the wall, then the floor, then shifts nervously, then looks at the MAN again, then at the wall, figets, looks back to the MAN, figets, is about to say something, hesitates, looks at the floor. He takes a breath, lets it out, fidgets, looks at the MAN, then the floor, the wall, the floor, the MAN, the wall, figets, is about to say something, stops, looks at the wall.

The MAN smiles patiently and says nothing.

BOY: 

Oh, um... never mind.

The BOY turns and walks away. The MAN closes the door after him and returns to the couch with his WIFE.

WIFE: 

How'd that kid get in the building?

The BABY fusses slightly. There is silence.

Blackout.

Fin.

iFeelings

Not that I feel shamed into writing by a recent commenter (posting funny pictures is NOT a cop-out!), but I notice that if I don't have anything clever to write, I don't write anything at all. Which is why I'm daring myself to write now.

Already, I've slipped into that double-trap I most despise about blogs - writing about writing and writing about one's feelings. Someone once said that the internet has given unprecedented rise to the validity of uneducated opinions. Anyone who spends 4 seconds reading the comment threads of any major (or minor) news story online knows this. Opinions are like, uh, armpits (said the new dad), and as I've always said to myself in the privacy of my own brain: People are idiots.

The best way to stave off idiocy? I say humor. Or mockery or absurdity or, in this case, radio silence. The last one serves me best in the long run, but the silence is inevitably replaced with anger and restlessness and spite. Because it's not that I'm not paying attention to the asinine goings-on of the government/art world/music scene/media, I'm just choosing not to respond. And that's usually fine.

When it's not fine is when I can't seem to joke my way out of it. I know I'm getting older, too, since I'm being more deliberate about my sense of humor. I firmly believe that the heart of comedy is beauty and the heart of beauty is truth (I know, here we go...). Now, you can define "beauty" and "truth" (and "comedy" , for that matter) however you like, but in my mind, they are the holy trinity. If I can truly laugh at something, it is divine.
If something's not funny, well... courtesy laughs are for the weak. And I'm through making dull people feel better about themselves.

Perhaps I haven't had time lately to laugh as much (and how I do so miss 30 Rock). Things aren't bad, just moving at a very different pace with The Baby (the ultimate combination of truth, beauty and humor), so maybe I don't have to go looking for a reason to laugh at the world now. It's right in front of me with a drooly grin and fat little thighs, pulling my heart out slowly through my ribs. No more idle cynicism, I can dial down the toxic language and self-aggrandizing ego campaigns. Babies don't care about elections or wars or economies right now and it's kinda nice living in that world for a change.

So I guess I've been checked out for a bit - which must crush my fours of readers, I'm sure - but rest assured, I'll be back soon at full cleverness, wit and charm. Though I may have gained a little weight. And I may be wearing more Seahawks gear.

Thanks for indulging this moment of introspection. We now return you to your regularly scheduled internet, already in progress.

Area man finds physical copy of Onion

"It's easy when you don't have to type in the 'dot com' part."

Let the iMocking commence

After buying one of these for Ida (you know, just because), I requested and was given one for my birthday.

I admit: 

1. Holy crap. It totally rules, and 
2. I am a gadget whore. There, I said it.
   

I'd also like to formally apologize to all those iPhone owners I mocked for their geekishness. 

  

I now humbly submit to the taunting slings and arrows of both of this blog's readers.

Le Geek, C'est Moi. 

Syntax update

The following are terms and expressions I look forward to using and overusing in the weeks to come. When you see me next, I might only be interested in stringing these together somehow throughout our conversation. You have been warned.

•  "This... isn't over." - Used in personal-action-movie-style drama (spoken in a harsh whisper through clenched teeth)

•  "You'd better have a roommate because I don't know how you can live with yourself." -Used when imparting feelings of utter disgust in a friend or family member (it happens more than you think)

•  "I know where your mama parks your house." - Used when forced to insult a redneck

•  Deproblem (v): to fix or eliminate the problem. (ex. My wife asked me to deproblem our daughter's diaper situation) - Made-up office terminology. Can be used outside the office. 

Feel free to try these yourself, they are for public use. Just as long as you credit me or the TV shows I stole some of them from. 

I'll probably have moved on to new and better expressions by the time these get popular anyway. It's how tastemakers like me deproblem a boring life. 

It seems like only yesterday...

... that I was asked by a co-worker if I thought we'd ever see a woman president in our lifetime. I said yes, of course, or a black president, for that matter. 

Optimistic but reasonable, I thought. Probably not before 2012, though. I mean, let's be realistic, this country needs a backboard and a neck brace before it can be moved. 

Right?

Well, here we are at the primaries and it's going to happen. HRC or The Big O - one or the other is moving in and Whitey The Man is literally getting his walking papers. This is the year we see it happen. 

(Potential Fallout: Punk rock ceases to be relevant. Maybe?)

If that doesn't get you worked up in some way, check your pulse. 

You might be dead.

Or Canadian.

These R not the droids UR looking for.

U don need 2 see teh paperz.

Today, I wore sunglasses on the bus

What'd you do today?