Problem: My wish list is a list I keep for the sake of keeping tabs on things I want to eventually get for myself. You’ll also see on there, Large Screen 1080p LCD’s, expensive camera equipment, and… Blu-Ray Players. Which is to say that I don’t currently have a blu-ray player, making the gift sort of a good doorstop.

When they told me that they had gotten something off of my Wish List, my very first reaction as “I hope it’s not something that requires something else off the list to be useful.” They didn’t quite get what I was saying at first, then it dawned on them. What good is a DVD player without DVD’s, right? And what good is a DVD without the player, as well? They rely on each other for usefulness.

Well I guess they missed the fact that there were Blu-Ray players on my list, meaning that the disc would be without use until I got one of those dang player thingies.

Enter Saturday.

We were doing OK this month financially, despite Christmas, and figured we could afford the cost of a player. None of the local shops had the player we wanted (which was priced at about $400), that being the Sony model which has gotten rave reviews. I didn’t want to pay essentially the same price for a player from another brand that wasn’t reviewed as well (cough cough, Toshiba cough cough). But I also wanted to have it in time for their stay with us, so we could get down in HD in their honor (sort of).

I went back to amazon, and I found a killer (killer!) deal on the player I wanted. Overnight shipping was affordable. There was no tax. It came with a movie. A really really, really really sucky movie (Spiderman 3), but what the heck, right? It’s a good deal, and actually ended up cheaper than what we were prepared to spend. Yes, for all that, including the shipping, we only paid $350. Yikes, that was a smoking deal.

Kinda funny, actually, as the “normal” box without the free spiderman movie was $400. So now I know exactly how much Spiderman 3 sucks; they have to pay you $100 to watch it. Wow. That’s a sh!tty movie. I’ll be donating it to charity later today.

Because that’s when my Blu-Ray player arrives. Joy to me. Merry Consumer-mas after all!

Peace. And a happy New Year.

We saw some rather comical little snippets of this film here & there, so we decided a cutesy little Christmas Day film it would make.

Now I don’t mean to imply by the title that it was not funny, or not entertaining, it’s just that… well, the major plot centered around the Robinsons, a future-based family that’s all too quirky. And I mean that quite literally, they’re too quirky. The film had lots of laughs, and a decent-enough message, but the central idea of this damn family began to get irritating rather immediately. Like, immediately.

They went way too over-the-top with these peeps. If they had just toned it down like 3 or 4 notches on that family, it could have saved the film from “cutesy attempt” and rocketed it to “On my list of movies to buy.” Really. You know, that list that should totally mean something to you, btw.

As it stands, though, it’s never going to be more than marginally enjoyed once. I give it a C+, and I’m being a tad bit kind, too. You take your chances. If you love or can overlook overly-cutesy devices, then you'll probably get a kick out of it. If – like me – you get rather easily annoyed by silly, cutesy plot devices & ploys, get your laughs with Superbad or Wedding Crashers, or Shrek if you want to stick with animated features.



Friends arrive tomorrow!
I have a pair of friends – married – to each other – that are set to arrive here tomorrow for the better part of a week. This ought to be fun. We always have a good time together, and this is their first venture into our neck of the woods too, so we ought to have a fun time showing them around.

Only problem is, they’re going to be here for New Years, and they want us to do “something fun!” Only problem is, I have no idea what they mean but “something fun,” and I’m not sure that whatever it is we’ll have it around here.

Sh!t, part of the reason we moved where we did is that it’s a lot simpler, and we enjoy the simple things in life much more. We have some pricey material possessions, but they’re few and we take care of them for what they’re worth, but for the most part, give me a river, lake, trees, ocean, and I’m a happy hiker. Most of our expensive material possessions are to share in pictures & video these exquisite ventures we tend to take.

So hopefully their idea of “something fun” is a hike, followed later by a warm shower, a good barbeque steak, and a movie, followed shortly after by bed time.

‘Cuz that’s fun for me.

Peace.

We stayed up late (didn’t get home from work until 11:15pm anyway) and opened gifts around, oh, 12:01am Christmas Morning.

I got a nice sweater, some shorts, a piece of workout equipment, a Blu-Ray Movie (which I don’t have a player yet to watch it with :-( … ) and a mini wet/dry vacuum.

The Girl got some pants, a sweatsuit, some shirts, a couple sweaters, a cast iron pan & handle cover, & a Victoria’s Secret Nightie & Undies. And handcuffs. Yes, Handcuffs.

So you could probably say I got a piece of ass for Christmas, too.



Later that day…
We got up and had breakfast (using the new cast iron pan), then hung around and eventually got up enough strength to take the dogs out again today. We were helped along by some wet-nose prodding, of course. We went out to the less-frequently visited portion of the beach, then trekked around (in 4x4 mode) along the beach to the tip of the peninsula and around to face the bay. Here, we let Miles have at it in the waters for an hour or so.

Hopefully they’ll be worn out enough tomorrow to leave us the hell alone! Well Miles, hopefully. Zoey’s already so tuckered out that she’s falling asleep standing up with her face on the couch.



Then…
The rain came. I had plans to do a workout and also to mow the lawns. Suffice to say that instead, I took a nap and lounged around all day.

Not that rain prevents working out. It’s just that I figured, what the hell. It’s Consumer-mas. So I skipped it. Well, not so much skipped it as pushed it back a day. I’ll be home by like 3:30pm tomorrow, provided I don’t get fired. So I should have plenty of time.



Then it was movie time
We rented Meet the Robinsons on Christmas Eve, to watch on Christmas. I’m not going to give an overview here now, but maybe in another day or so.



And, you?
Like I said yesterday, “Joyous festival of your choosing.” So hopefully you did that, huh? Was it everything you hoped I would be? Did you get a 60” Sony Flat-screen LCD HDTV with 2ms response time or less?

Because if you did, I hate you.

Peace.

Tags: Animals, women, Gym

For those of you who aren’t in the know, it’s a reference to a semi-fictitious holiday made popular on Seinfeld. Funny guy that Jerry.



Merry Christmas!
For those that aren’t in the know, it’s a reference to a date in December (the 25th) that the christians took away from the pagans to celebrate the “birth of Christ” who was NOT born on December 25th. This was done in order to help indoctrinate the “savages” into organized religion.



Happy Hanukkah!
What the hell? The Jews already own everything else, why not the Christmas season, too?! 10 Days? I suppose next thing you’ll say that Jesus wasn’t really the Son of God or something.

What!?!?!



Happy Consumer-mas
And to the rest of us, Happy Consumer-mas. Because that’s what it’s all about, right? Buying me presents?

Good, good. I hope it’s a 60” Flat-Screen LCD with 2ms Response Time per pixel from Sony. I wrote santa.



Oh, almost forgot: Happy Kwanzaa
Yeah F’ing right. Are you joking? That’s a holiday like OJ is innocent, OK?

That wasn’t too soon, was it? It’s been long enough, right? Oh well.

Peace. Er, Merry Peace.

Anyway. The film is good. It stars Viggo Mortensen, an actor you may remember from movies such as A History of Violence. Well these films also share a director, and they also share a similar sort of narrative to them. They both ask tough questions, and leave them unanswered. And I’m not sure how I feel about that.

The acting is good. However, I’m still not sure if it was supposed to be a “Thriller” in the sense that you “find out” the plot twists or whatnot later, or if they’re supposed to be transparent. Because they most definitely were; it’s not going to keep you guessing.

But those pesky questions. Is this a Thriller? Does he follow through on his duty? Does he become consumed with the power, becoming his old nemesis? These questions are not answered (except I answered the first one for you).

I watched the short “Bonus Materials” stuff on the disc, and the director was talking about how they wanted to leave it like that, sort of let the audience contemplate the nature of man, the decisions we face, and how we react. Hey, I’m all about philosophy, right?

But those questions… Look, I like a good movie, but honestly, if it’s 2 hours long, I expect a beginning, middle, and end. Therefore, if the end is missing or they leave it up to me, then it kinda makes for a bad design, methinks. There are of course exceptions (see Total Recall), but by and large, I expect closure. Sure I want to leave and talk about the film, but the way this ended, it was sort of ambiguous; you didn’t know enough about the characters to have an argument over what you thought happened, and that sort of bothered me. I could have drawn my own conclusions that he was actually an alien sent from Death Star 9, and was going to eat all of humanity. No one could argue I was wrong.

But it is a decent flick. I just think that the reviews kinda had that Hype Momentum going for it. You know, Hype Momentum. It was good. It just wasn’t that good. Let’s say it’s a shaky B+, if only because the acting’s pretty good and the camera direction’s there, too.

Beware, though: There’s man-dick involved. Can’t miss it. So just keep in mind, I warned you.

Peace.

The Problem with Miles being so fit
OK so after our vet visit, we trekked off to the beach for a little fun & exercise. I have been using a Chuck It Ball thrower for a while now, but I found a nice doggy toy that is about twice as big as a tennis ball and had a spot I could tie a rope to.

The idea being that I could essentially use it like a Chuck It, giving the “ball” extra momentum to get it out into the water further.
OK, let me back up for a second. Remember when I was telling how it’s almost impossible to get Miles sore anymore? Still true as I write this. The swimming in the waves though takes some work, so I try to get him to the beach to at least try and wear him out often as I can. I was using a buoy of sorts for a while, but it was light and didn’t go far enough out into the water. Tried some sticks, but they would either not last, or give me splinters, or both. I was trying to avoid tennis balls, because honestly, with all the rough water & waves, it’s hard enough for me to see the ball, I can only imagine for the dog, right?

But nothing else seemed to be going out far enough, so I broke down & bought the Chuck It. It’s been working pretty well as far as getting the target out into the deeper waters, but the problem is it’s also rougher out there, and if Miles loses track of the ball, he retreats back to shallow waters to try and find it. And eventually, the ball shows up in the shallow waters, so thus Miles never actually gets a wave-centric workout.

So today with the rope-a-dope toy made & ready, we went to the waves to see what we could do. Verdict?

Well it seems like it’s going to be 6 of one, half-dozen of the other no matter what. I just can’t huck it as far as I can the ball on the stick. BUT, Miles can see it, and also it tends to stay ‘out’ in the deeper areas longer, so Miles can go and get it. I just have to get it out there.

So it seems my choices are either a small ball that goes out far, but carries a large chance that Miles simply won’t be able to track it, or a larger ball that will not go as far, but Miles can easily track. No toy seems to exist that will satisfy both my concerns.

I really need like a shoulder-fired bazooka launcher. Put the big ball in and send it out 50 yards or something.



How Awesome is Miles? Let me count the ways…
Anyway, I told you that story so I could tell you this one:

In the middle of getting him his wave-centric workout, I managed to get the ball-on-a-rope out pretty damned far, into a nice sized swell (after which I ran back to shore to keep dry). Miles took off after it, and decided to take on a rather large crashing wave all by his lonesome. It was rather big and rather harsh, and as Miles was being tossed around and pulled under & back, I thought to myself “I hope his collar doesn’t come off him again.” It had happened before, by the way. Collars can get expensive, especially with tags attached. Anyway, sure enough Miles’ head pops up after a few seconds, and what do I see out in the distance, some 40 yards out in the crashing waves? A black dog, holding a black collar in his mouth.

Yes, My Miles is so stupendously awesome, that in the middle of being tossed around by a wave so violent that it took the collar off from around his neck, he had the sense to grab his own collar out of the turbulent waters and carry it back.

Of course, it’s not like the collar came off so he gave up on the ball-on-a-rope. Nope, with his collar in mouth, he tredged out to the ball, & grabbed that too. Then brought them both back to me.

Miles can NEVER die. I won’t allow it. It cannot be. The earth will cease to spin ‘round the sun should that day come. He’s just too amazing.

Peace.

Tags: Animals

Mommy Spears’ Parenting book put on hold “indefinitely.”

Gee, I wonder why?

HAHAHAHAHA!!!!



What he meant to say was, “My locker’s over here”
Terrell Owens tells Jessica Simpson to stay the frick away.

Hey man, she has a sister, you know. Knock on that door, huh?



Miles to the Vet; Miles off to the Beach shortly after
So about a week ago I blogged about finding a growth on Miles’ eye. This morning we ended up at the vet over the matter (don’t worry, it was by appointment).

Also this morning, we discovered that Colorado State U will give a Veterinary Certificate to about anyone. Yep, it’s time for a new vet. Miles has a growth on his right eye. A GROWTH. The doctor looks at it, says it might be an infection and prescribes antibiotics to deal with it. Antibiotics. You know, the things that combat bacterial infections. To counter a possible growth on his body. Says maybe it’s a swollen, infected gland… Strike one.

Then he says that if the antibiotics don’t clear up the growth, then we can surgically remove it. This, he assures me, will rid us of the evil bacterial growth and solve the goopy eye problem. Strike two.

OK now I’m not a doctor, but I do have one in the family. And for strike one, sh!t I don’t even need to consult him! Warts & similar growths are a viral infection; antibiotics are like sending the Queer Eye for the Straight Guys cast into the Playboy Mansion; nothing’s going to happen. You sent the wrong force, you know? Square peg, round hole syndrome, get it?

And the second strike, thankfully I did call in reinforcements in the way of Daddy Doctor. He informed me a few days ago on the phone that surgical removal of something on the eyelid is sort of a problem, because if they remove eyelid and he can’t close his eye properly all the way... he’ll have persistent infection problems of the eye.

You know, that thing that brought us into the vet in the first place.

Man, f*ck this. We’re going to the beach, then we’re going to find another vet. Preferably one that graduated from an institution from a State that is not known for it’s piss-poor beer.

Miles? He’s doing fine. He doesn’t even notice a weepy eye. He only sees the next beach trip. Which begins right…. NOW!

Peace.

Tags: Animals

Hey, sex at 16? You’re not going to catch me getting all uppity. But pregnant, too? C’mon!

Hey, I think maybe addictive behavior runs in the family. That and being slutty. Nothing wrong with that per se, but pregnant? C'mon, that sort of ruins it.



Star Wars Fans get collective Boners over Science
Hear about this monster galaxy shooting photon death beams at another galaxy? Yeah, they nicknamed it the “Death Star Galaxy.” Shwing.



Yeah, it’s sexist. Just like the Early Bird.
This lawsuit in NYC I think has merit. I mean, the only way the club can make their case I think is if they can convince the judge that women are indeed just objects for men to behold.

Yes, it might very well have far-reaching implications for other “only you and not them” specials. But the guy is completely correct, OK?



If I smoke pot, can I have $9,000?
So a game bought for $90 somehow becomes worth $9,000? Just because a kid smoked pot?

Sign me the f*ck up. This is quite the investment opportunity. And I’m getting in on the ground floor. Who’s with me?!

So what I’ve never smoked pot? I just won’t inhale. Worked for a certain President. And no I’m not referring to bush. He definitely inhaled, mouth & nose, & probably did some licking & swallowing too. Have you seen his agendas?

Yeah, he’s fried. Like, to a crisp. Couldn't find his way out of a sandbox, that guy.

Peace.

Tags: women

So last night I closed the shop down. What with the holiday hours, that means I got home sometime around 12:45am. Actually, it was on the dot, as I had said in the afternoon to expect me around that time, and when I got in the 4Runner, I saw I had two minutes to make that statement a fact. And so it was.

However, it’s not like I could go home and just go to sleep or anything, mind you. Nope, especially not this morning, as The Girl was on her way out of town via airplane to visit her kooky family in So Cal. A plane that left no later than 6am, and required us up by 3:45am or so.

Now couple that with the fact that when I got home, I was informed there was chocolate pudding in the fridge, and you can piece together how I maybe got one or two good hours of sleep before I was up and at ‘em. That’s the saying, right?



But it lead to a mighty fun day
Now I admit that after the drop-off at the airport, I managed to get a couple more hours of shut-eye. But the puppies cut that short as they felt I had both a) slept long enough, and b) started coming dangerously close to letting them starve to death.

Since I was up, I got started on our day together, which largely revolved around them. It was off to the beach, where I ventured to an area we hadn’t been to before. It was kinda cool, actually, as the waves broke way out, so there was lots of water to wade through to go and get the ball I was throwing out there.

But this wasn’t all I had in store for them. The other day when we ended up going off-roading, we also came across a little area that faces the bay, not the ocean, so there is no crashing waves or anything, just abruptly receding land that gives way to nice, deep water. This is great news for Miles, as he loves to swim, and I love to see him swim because it works his butt out something fierce, and getting him to actually work up a doggie-sweat is hard-damned work. Other than swimming, I’m not sure there’s enough hours in the day to do it anymore, actually. If a fiddle was fit, I'd say he was that, I guess.

But this wasn’t all I had in store for them. The other day when we ended up going off-roading, we came across a nice, steep access point from the dunes to the actual beach. I didn’t go this direction at the time because a) we saw a truck stuck there (damn Chevy's; yeah sure this is your country, huh?), and b) I didn’t want to also become stuck there. However, today I was following a Toyota Tacoma loaded with a couple dogs going this route. I figured that if he could do it, so could I. And so I did.

We followed the beach around to the peak of the peninsula. There’s a Jetty on either side of the bay entrance, and I parked the 4Runner then took the dogs out on a ½-mile walk to the end of the northern Jetty.

But that’s not all….. OK you’re probably sick of that literary trick, huh? Well after that I took them around to an even better spot that faces the bay, and miles got a really good workout swimming into and out of the water. So much so in fact, that I fear he may actually end up sore tomorrow. He’s not showing signs yet, bet we were out there swimming for the better part of 3 hours. We shall see. We. Shall. See.

Peace.

Tags: women, Animals

Turns out The Girl in all her youth had never witnessed this film before. So I decided that I’d pop into the video store and rent that sh!t. To be honest, I wasn’t sure she’d like it. And also, I hadn’t seen it in like 8 years myself, so I wasn’t sure it’d be as good as I remembered. So it was with a little apprehension that I plopped it into the DVD player.

I needn’t have feared, however. The movie is a solid classic. Filled to the brim with quality actors giving caliber performances, and a story that is simple enough to follow yet complex enough to keep you engaged, it’s a classic that is soon to be on my list of movies to add to my collection. Which, of course, should totally mean something to you, btw.

So if you haven’t seen this yet, or you haven’t seen it in the last 5 years, go and watch it.



Going through Lost withdrawals
My favorite drama on TV didn’t start this September like every other Fall show. Because it’s shot entirely in Hawaii, they are very much at the will of the weather. I hear weather happens often there.

Anyway. Because of this, they are not starting their new season until some time in February. They are not sure when yet, and I am sure of this because I just got back from checking the official site, which says TBD for the next episode. Ho-hum.

This officially sucks.


This just in: Widespread Steroid Use in Baseball
Say what? MAN! And here I thought that all these guys that do not move more than 50 yards in 3 hours of play all just magically got necks larger than thighs naturally.

Thanks for spoiling the illusion, guys…

(end sarcasm)

Peace.

So happens I have the answer.

Down South, we had regular ol’ carpet, a low shag type of fluff. It looks great right after you vacuum, no doubt, but it tends to look trampled relatively fast. Like, as soon as you touch it. I understand why people used to be so anal about not walking on the carpet; pretty to look at, hell to maintain.

We move up north. The place we rent? Has berber carpet. Has a mix of colors, which we assume will wear well, hiding daily dirt and whatnot. Great that it has no real ‘grain’ or anything, as now whether your vacuum or not, walking on it doesn’t make it look trampled. Yay.

BUT, we were dead wrong about the wear ability of this sh!t. I mean, our carpet is most definitely spotted where it’s used the most. And I think it’s actually a function of the low shag; since there’s no grain, there is nowhere for a stain or discoloration to hide.

Our kitchen is tiled in a sort of renaissance-type color scheme, with mixed reds, oranges, browns, etc. I don’t know what to call it, but I can say this: it stays clean, it’s easy to clean up, and eventually, I will have a house that’s floored entirely with something similar to it.

Though maybe not the grout. I hate grout. No grout. More specifically, I was thinking something like this here. Ah yes, a solid, easy-to-clean surface without grout lines. What do you think?



The. Most. Fun. EVER
That might be a small exaggeration, but I did have more fun than a barrel of monkeys with their pants down today. We took the dogs out to the beach where we normally do, then as we were leaving, I decided to take a right instead of a left and go exploring. What did I find?

Dunes. The kind that you go off-roading all over. I knew the dunes were there, sort of, but I didn’t figure I could just drive there, keep going, and then be free to do as I pleased out there. It was a surprise, and lo-and-behold it was a fun one.

Unfortunately, The Girl had to work tonight, so we had to skip home earlier than I would have liked. I took some quick photos that didn’t come out, so you can look forward to me not putting them on the web to share, too. We’ll be back there soon enough. We have some friends (turns out I have a couple) that are going to be visiting us during the late stages of this month, so I plan on taking them out there and 4-wheeling the hell out of some dunes with them. They’ll enjoy it.



The Girl is too damned nice
I mean, it’s a good thing for me that she’s nice to me, but she’s too damn nice to everyone else. I keep telling her she needs to stand up for herself and not let people walk all over her all the time, otherwise they’ll continue to do so because they know they can get away with it.

Case in point: We get home, and there’s a message on our machine from some girl asking if she could work in The Girl’s place tonight. Cool, because The Girl needs to finish getting ready for her trip back to Southern Hell-ifornia this Sunday. They make the plan, all is set. We have lunch, look forward to another night together, then the phone rings.

This lady is calling back to say that she kinda changed her mind, and doesn’t want to work for The Girl anymore. Now since she’s technically scheduled for the shift, it’s not like she can really say too much to the effect of “tough sh!t,” because it is her ass on the line. But, she was so overly nice about it that she made it sound like she was relieved to be having to work tonight after all, which wasn’t the case.

If it had been me, instead of being all “oh it’s alright, I’ll do it, no problem,” that lady would have heard “You mean now that I’ve gone out of my way to give you the shift you asked for, and subsequently made other plans, you’re calling to renege on that deal? So I’m going to have to cancel my plans because you changed your mind? No no, that’s fine, I’ll do it. I have to go and get ready. No really, I’ll do it. I’m on the schedule anyway. I can’t talk anymore, I have to go and cancel my other plans and then get ready for the shift I thought was covered. Bye.”

Yes it’s petty, but how the hell else do you get across to these people that this sort of behavior is just not acceptable? A little shaming can go a long way, OK? And really, that's what I sorta feel is necessary.

Yes I told The Girl this. Yes she gets it. It’s just hard for her to do, because it’s in her nature. Which is why it’s good for her that it’s not in mine. Don’t worry, baby; I’m here to keep you from being a door mat ;-)

Peace.

Tags: Animals, women

Following a day in the life of two girl-obsessed High School dorks, Superbad delivers the laughs from the time you pop it in the DVD player. It’s on my list of movies to purchase, if that means anything to you. It should totally mean something to you, btw.

If you haven’t heard of it – which is entirely possible as it seemed to fly under the radar this summer – then I should warn you that there’s a bit of potty humor in it. Oh hell who am I kidding, it’s based entirely on potty humor, OK? But it works. This is High School, and if you went to that institution any time in the last 30 years, you’ll probably get a kick out of this movie because that’s exactly what High School is: Potty Humor.

I liked that the comedy was largely understated, in that they didn’t have stupid gags and then have to point out the punch-line to you with a horn so you’d know when to laugh. It’s not a Wayans comedy is what I’m saying, I guess, it’s genuinely funny in a smooth, seamless sort of way.

Hopefully you aren’t dick-shy, though. Or Va-jay-jay shy, either. If by chance you’re not sure what va-jay-jay may be though, perhaps this isn’t the movie for you…

So, if you went to HS in the last 30 years and know a va-jay-jay? A-. If you didn’t either go in the last 30 years, or you did but you are clueless on the va-jay-jay? D+.



Other titles considered
I was also thinking of leading with “Superbad: More fun than a barrel of monkeys with their pants down.” But then I realized that just doesn’t work, because monkeys don’t wear pants. And besides they throw their own shi!t, so it’s not like you can really verbally add anything more extreme to a monkey anyhow.

Also considered “Superbad: an autobiography,” sort of implying that they stole some pages from my manuscript. BUT, if you know This Guy, then you may have heard that in fact it sort of is an autobiography, as he and his friend wrote the story about how their High School life went down for the most part (or if you’re into potty humor, how it didn’t ‘go down,’ if you get my drift hint hint wink wink). Which sort of kills the funny of the review title.



Typed under the cover of darkness
With very little sleep, either. Monday started my work on “Open ‘til Midnight” scheduling. Which puts me out of the building at about 12:30am if everything goes right.

Everything did not go right. My dumb ass somehow came up $15 dollars short at the end of the night. I’m new. I like my job. I like my new town. I want to keep both. This is scary. It’s also not the first time. What the frig.

So I panic a little bit, and end up having to stay until closer to 1am, trying to find this damn $15. Now couple that with the fact that as I rolled my way home after eventually finding said $15, I discovered that I had a set of keys on my person that were not supposed to be on my person any longer. Makes for a mighty few sleep hours, because they'll need them things bright & early at 6:30am...

So now it’s about 6am and I’m getting ready to go back. On my day off. To drop of a set of keys and fill out some paperwork I forgot to sign off as well. This. Is. Magical.

Where’d I find the $15? Well I found $20 and lost $5. Huh? There was a $20 bundled with some $5 bills, the difference of which is $15. I may need caffeine pills that late at night.

Peace.

Why is it a dog that will go swimming in cold-ass ocean water will still fear the hose and more specifically a bath from said hose? I can’t understand it. Yes, I know that it’s a dog, not a qualified human, but still: it’s water, just the same. You get wet about the same. Hell, less actually from the hose. So what’s the big deal? You're less wet. I don’t get it.

And just so we’re clear, I’m talking about the Dumb One. The Smart One does not fear anything. He still don’t particularly like baths, but he puts up with it. Mostly because he absolutely LOVES the toweling-off afterwards.



And while we’re talking about dogs…
You may or may not recall a post many months back about Miles being rudely attacked by the neighbor’s mutt. Well shortly after, I noticed a wart on my Miles. Then a month or so after that, another was discovered.

Not long ago, Miles began having an excessively weepy Right Eye. He’s always had some measure of weepy eye, but this was kinda goopy instead of just teary, so I figured I’d try to clean it up and out and make it recover a bit faster. I noticed whilst doing this that at the back corner of his eye, he has developed… another wart. On his eyelid. Right there. Can’t miss it.

I’m beginning to think that these things aren’t old-age related as I had thought previously, but may in fact be linked to the dog bite he suffered. Maybe that mangy excuse for a family pet contaminated my Miles? Man, if he wasn’t dead already I’d kill ‘im. Frickin’ Frack, dammit! Sigh. I may have to get the venerable Miles into the vet to have a good ol’ look-see. I don't want him to become merely a collection of ugly bumps, you know?



And while we’re talking about dogs…
Michael Vick was sentenced to Death recently. OK no he wasn’t, he was sentenced to 23 months in Prison. I told the girl about it, and she wasn’t happy with that sentence herself; she feels it should be much more harsh.

But… I think it’s an adequate term. They are dogs, not people. Yes what he did was morally tragic & equally deplorable, but he’s going to be in prison for two years as punishment. Couple that with the public defacing of his image, and the lost job & also the ability to garner positive press which’ll lead to few – if any –endorsements, and I think he’ll have suffered a due amount.

I mean sure, I could demand more time, but I’m not cruel to animals myself now, c’mon.

Peace.

Tags: Animals

Last night after getting home from work, The Girl plopped down on the couch and actually read my blog. You know, the one about Marisa Miller being HOT. That one.

Anyone that read that probably thought that I was in for a severe case of the girlfriend blues, and I would think that about someone else, too, had they written what I wrote. But not me, not with my girl. She reads that? Then checks out her site. Then stares at every picture of her on her website.

I casually dropped that in my research for the blog, I discovered that she started out as a nude model in Perfect 10 magazine (which, btw, means her boobs are real). Did I get slapped? No. I got asked “are there pictures of her naked? Can I see them? Where are they?”

Marisa Miller is that Hot. My Girlfriend, who would never consider a lesbian encounter in her lifetime, wants badly to make it with Marisa Miller. Of this I am certain.

God Bless my Girlfriend. And God Bless Marisa Miller ;-).



So, uh, you’ve been blogging a lot recently….
I have had time. Suffice to say I have had the time to do it, without detracting from any other of my multitude of activities. There’s really nothing else to say about it, honestly. Like I said, I’ll be doing it when I can, and probably mostly for myself, and time has permitted this in the last few days.

So enjoy it, ‘K? Who knows; The Girl goes back to the death trap on the 16th and will be gone until the 20th of this month, so I’ll probably even be able to get a Mac Tip or two up during that week. Time will tell, eh? And if you’re a recent Mac Convert, and you haven’t been reading…. You have no excuses. Make it over to my Mac Help pages, you fool. Read. Enlighten. And stop asking me the same questions every 5 minutes.

Peace.

Tags: women

Tags: women

What can I say about Ocean’s 13? How about: MAN, I sure liked Ocean’s 11. And that about sums it up.

The Girl said something equally accurate. Namely, that it’s sort of been-there, done-that stuff. Not only that, but where the first two (first ONE in particular) was measured and conceived – the plot, that is – the 3rd just sort of throws stuff at you, then tries to explain it away later. Which I hate.

It’s too fantastic and not well-enough designed to be worth watching. Guess I’ll have to remove the Trilogy from my wish list.



Wind & Rain & Bears, Oh my!
The last couple of days it’s actually been windy here. I was curious so I looked to see what the wind speeds were that everyone around here is so apt to complain about. 20mph. 20mph. OK, so again, I come from a land where they name the winds they’re so strong, right? So, uh, 20mph.

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s still windy. But we’re talking between ⅓ to ⅛ the strength of the Gale-Force, 100mph-+ Santa Anas.

Here, you lay awake in bed, thinking man it’s hard to sleep with all that noise. Down South, you think Man. I hope my home is still standing in the morning.

I think I’ll survive is what I’m sayin’.



No Really, not Mad
Hey for those of you taking it personally that I’m rewiring myself in regards to the website? Calm down. I was explaining how I’m going to be taking care of things considering. You’re not being singled-out, you’re being en massed out. So stop sending violent emails and throwing things at me on the street.



JLH mad at her body
Yes, I know she’s been telling everyone that she’s mad at Hollywood for giving young women a sense of beauty that’s unrealistic. You know, all those beautiful size 0 women.

I think she’s focusing her distaste for her own appearance on the media on this one, however. Look, I agree that hollywood DOES give people an unreal sense of beauty when they touch up people’s photos and do this & that to make such & such person look a way they don’t really look. BUT, to say that a level of beauty is unattainable is hogwash. I see girls every day that are FAR more perfect than the famous faces we see on TV. Perfect bodies. They just didn’t make it in hollywood. I mean, there’s only so much room, and once you have an established act, you stick with it, right? It sells. You have a following. So JLH gains 120 pounds, you try to slim that down on film because everyone loved her in I Know What your Beautiful Big Breasts did 3 Summers Ago at that One Place with the Boats & the fishermen & that one hunky guy; You know the one I’m talkin’ about. But that’s not to say there’s no women out there who look a certain way or are beautiful. That’s what we call a reach.

Because you see, I believe Art imitates Life, not the other way around. Hollywood shows me things that turn me on, because that sells. They don’t tell me what arouses me, because Willy Knows best, OK? You try to dress up the ham, I’m sorry, but I’ll call BS and point out that it IS just a pig in lipstick. I have a built-in beauty pointer, and it never fails, OK? And it ain’t pointing at you, honey.

But even IF she was dead-on in her estimation (she’s not), that doesn’t detract from the fact that she appears to be a cellulite-ridden size 22. And you don’t get that way from decent diet and exercise. You get that way from laying around and eating bon-bons. Fudge-covered Bon-Bons. She can yell all she wants. But she’s wrong in her focus point. I can show her pics of beautiful women that aren’t touched up at all. Because they DO exist.

But yelling at the media is easier than taking repsonsibility for one’s condition, right? So of course she says the media makes beauty unattainable. She’s mad at that she says, when really she’s mad they got a good look at her and burst the bubble. Because, I sure as hell didn’t see her turning down Hanes endorsements, flaunting those big fun bags that everyone thought were cute & perky.

Yeah, pissed that she got caught is what it looks like to me.

So, uh, ladies? Don’t listen to this line. You best be taking care of yourselves. It can be done. I do it daily. You just have to show up, that’s the hard part. Really

Peace.

Tags: Gym, women