Here's to Root Canals

And why is the procedure called a Root Canal, anyway?

Thursday I was having trouble chowing down on my roast beef sandwich, specifically, chewing with the molars on the right side of my mouth, which is the side I normally chew on. I chew on the right, I'm right-handed, but I dress to the left, go figure. Actually that makes sense, because I dress mostly with my right hand, so things are going to be tucked away to the left...eww? TMI? Whatever are you talking about?

So I'm forced to chew with the left side of my mouth, and it works, but I have to concentrate and remember not to chew with the right, but that's easy enough because if I forget, it hurts. Pain: the great motivator.

My after-lunch coffee was not enjoyable because the hot liquid was also very painful. Apparently tooth pain caused by heat is not a good sign. Tooth pain at cold is also not good, but tooth pain at hot is a sign of something seriously wrong.

Liz picked me up at from the Bus Station then we went and picked up JE from an Art Class Liz enrolled him in. While A and I sat in the car, I amused myself by sipping the ice-cold coke left over from Liz's lunch and seeing how long I could hold the liquid in the right side of my mouth. It hurt, but it also felt good. When I finally swallowed the coke there was a brief respite from the pain before it returned, so I took another mouthful of coke and Oh Shit! It hurt so good!

When Liz returned with JE I told her we needed to go to a drug store coz I needed drugs, but instead we called our dentist and actually got in to see him at 6:30 that night. We got to his office at 5:30, had dinner at a local Boston Market (normally a good move, but this particular Boston Market sucked for some reason) which I skipped. An aching tooth quelled any appetite I might have had.

Finally we entered the Dentist's office where I still had to wait, had some x-rays taken (why do they put a lead apron over your chest/stomach when they're x-raying your head? Seriously, they're x-raying your head. If the x-rays are so dangerous that you need a lead apron over your body, and the dentist and nurse step outside during the x-ray process, THEN WHY ARE THEY X-RAYING YOUR F**KING HEAD?!?!?

So they take the x-rays and determine that I need a Root Canal. This is apparently a Root Canal I was scheduled to have a couple of years ago when we first started going to this dentist, but with the cost of work I needed to have done, and the willingness of my Insurance Co. to pay for Sweet Fanny Adams of the required work, I've been getting said required work done a bit at a time, like every 6 months, or so. This Root Canal decided it wasn't going to wait anymore and it went supernova on me.

I spend almost two hours in the chair having the inside of one of my teeth drilled out, then packed with a temporary filling. Once the drugs wore off I was pleased to note the pain had gone. I still couldn't eat using the right side of my mouth because it still hurt to bite down on that side, but thankfully I could once more drink piping hot coffee.

Before I left the dentist that night I made an appointment for Monday morning, which is a Public Holiday for me, but the dentist was still open for business. That was another two hours spent in the chair, getting the temporary filling pried out, the tooth re-drilled and prep'd, and a crown fitted, which the dentist messed up and had to carve a new crown. On the plus side, he showed me the new machine he has which actually carves the new crowns/teeth right there on the premises using sophisticated computers, cameras, 3D imagery, etc. It was all pretty cool.

Finally I got my new Crown fitted and I'm once again able to chew.

Yay!

But what a way to spend a 4-day long weekend.

On the plus side, Xinh decided that I was a Hakiu Grand Master.
Yay me!

I thought I was hearing things...

I thought I was hearing things as I walked past the truck parked outside the 7-Eleven.

"Cops'll be here soon."

I stepped inside the 7-Eleven, made my way to the coffee counter, and as I helped myself to a cup of java I looked out the window. The two guys were still sitting in their truck and it didn't look like they were in a hurry to go anywhere.

Two guys mentioning that the cops would be here soon were either cops themselves on a Stake Out, and what better place to Stake Out than a 7-Eleven, or they were the bad guys, tipped off that the cops were fast approaching.

But if they were the bad guys, why would they just be sitting in their truck, waiting for the cops?

If they were cops themselves, wouldn't they have said "Back-up will be here soon"?

As I walked over to the counter and took my place in line I noticed the clerk kept looking out the window...at the truck...which was still there.

It was still there when I paid for my cup of coffee.

It was still there when I got my change, which was when three cop cars pulled into the parking lot and fenced the truck in.

As El Monte's Finest emerged from their vehicles, guns drawn, the passenger who'd told the driver that the "Cops'll be here soon" wound his window up.

That just gave the cop who approached the truck something to tap the barrel of his gun against, which he did, and the two guys decided to get out and have a peaceful chat with the nice policemen. Guns really are an excellent negotiation tool, especially when you have one and the other guy doesn't. You also have to be willing to use the gun, and the other guy has to know that, or at least think you'll use it, for it to be really effective.

As I left the store the two guys were being handcuffed and the initial interrogation had begun. "How much money did you get? And don't lie to me or you're going to jail," said one of the cops to Mr. "Cops'll be here soon".

Aah, the fun & excitement of El Monte :)

The Amber Liquid - it provokes, and it unprovokes.

Some time back I went to a Sports Bar for a friend's Bachelor Party. There was just a few of us, but the Sports Bar was a happening place, some chain Sports Bar, so it was pretty crowded. As is the way of Bachelor parties we knocked back a few beers in mourning, I mean celebration, for our friend, and as I'd got a lift down with another mate I helped celebrate a little more, to make up for my mate needing to hold back, on account of him being designated driver.

As the night wore on my cast-iron bladder started straining at the seams, and even though I could hang on, with the long drive back home I knew I'd really be feeling the pressure at the end of it, so I elected to break the seal and return some of the Sports Bar's amber fluid.

Now I mentioned that this Sports Bar was a happening place, but what I meant was you couldn't walk through the joint without bumping shoulders with people, literally. When I arrived at the mens' room it was all too obvious just how popular (& crowded) this place was; there was a queue to get into the men's room. That's right. A queue to get into the men's room. I never see queues to get into the men's room, but there was one here, so I took my place in line and waited.

Now the funny thing about guys is while we're (often) very extroverted, there's something about peeing in a crowded men's room that makes things happen...or not happen, as the case may be.

Kettleness (adj.) - The inability to pee while being watched. The Deeper Meaning of Liff, by Douglas Adams & John Lloyd.

I suffer from kettleness. I also really needed to go, I mean I really needed to go. These two factors mean that I was going to have a lot of trouble getting started, and even when I got started, it was going to take a lot of concentration to keep the gates open. Ladies, you may have to sit down to pee, but let's face it, when the flood gates open, they really open, and everything just comes rushing out in an oh so satisfying way, I'm sure. Guys are not so lucky. Sure, we can lean against the blindside of the car parked on a side of a busy highway, and just casually wash the dust off the tire, but when we really need to go, and when we're being watched by a dozen or more guys who also really need to go, we're going to have trouble going.

Now I could have waited for a stall, but I had a mate waiting for me, so when my turn came up I bravely strode forward and took my place at one of the few urinals, and stood there, waiting, willing something to happen. But of course nothing did. I decided in this case, valor was the order of the day, discretion was not welcome at all, oh no.

I called back over my shoulder to the long line of guys waiting their turn, just as I'd waited, and was still waiting, "Sorry fellas, first piss of the night. You know how it is."

The pained groans from the masses behind me told me that they did indeed know how it was. My being there, in front of them, having my first piss of the night meant my time at the urinal was not going to be the average 20 seconds or so of everyone before them, it would be considerably longer.

But my ballsiness in openly declaring the situation (as opposed to gritting my teeth and enduring the calls of Hurry up! and Come on! from behind me) worked miracles and relief was soon at hand. Oh, sweet relief!

So take heed, dear readers, and be warned; if you wish to imbibe of the amber liquid, be sure to seek relief from the inevitable effects sooner, rather than later.

Technology Woes

Liz called me at work on Friday because we had no cable connection. No cable TV, no hi-speed cable internet, nothing. She'd called Adelphia and been on hold for over half an hour. I called and got a "Due to heavy call volume, a Customer Service Rep is not available to speak to you right now. Please call back later." To me, that sounded like someone messed up and cut something they shouldn't have, so everyone was calling Adelphia and complaining that they had no cable.

I got home and we still had no cable. When I called I got their automated help line so I chose to report an internet problem and got to speak to a real person. Of course he was a computer tech meant to help me with my internet problem, while my problem was absolutely no cable at all, so he scheduled a service call for the next day for me.

The Cable Guy comes out the next day, I tell him we have absolutely no service, he tells me he'll check the connection box, where everyone in the complex is plugged in to get their service. As soon as he lifts the lid, straight away, he says "You've been disconnected; I bet this is your cable here." He removes the do-hickey (that's an actual technical term for the thingamabob {not such a tecnical term} which goes between your cable cable and your cable socket in the cable box and prevents you from receiving a cable signal) and reconnects the cable cable to the cable socket and tells me we'll now probably have a cable signal. I go upstairs and sure enough, the cable modem is already showing its receiving a signal. I switch the TV on and we have stations.

WE HAVE CABLE ONCE AGAIN ! ! ! ! !

I thanked the man and called Adelphia to complain that some moron had disconnected us yesterday. The girl told me it was an accident, and as I'd already received a credit for having no service the day before she couldn't really do anything for me. I told her I'd received a credit for having no service, but what about the moron who disconnected us. She gave us a 1/2 day credit. Better than nothing, I guess. I told her what about the moron who'd disconnected us. She said she was sure The Cable Guy from this morning had probably reported the error to his supervisor. I told her I'd like to make sure it had been, and could she be sure to mention it to her supervisor for me.

Now it occurs to me, sitting here, typing this...that maybe Saturday's Cable Guy was also Friday's Cable Guy...and that's why he knew straight away that we'd been disconnected...because HE'D DISCONNECTED US THE DAY BEFORE ! ! ! ! !

In which case he wouldn't have reported the problem as a "disconnect" to his Supervisor, but noted that it was a faulty wire, or something. Oh well. We got our cable back :D

Liz's PC has also been acting up on her for the last week or two, and spontaneously rebooting. Ghoti's Ross mentioned that he suspected the power supply, which is a little 250W thing, so today I bought her a 350W job. It's in now, and Liz has been playing on my PC, so I've been typing this on her PC, and so far, so good. Let's hope that was the problem. Usually when Liz's PC has problems I'll be a nice guy and let her use my PC, which means no WoW for me.

Time to get my PC back :D

What is the Internet for?

I found this extremely amusing:

The Internet is for Porn

Enjoy :)

Oh, and the language used, while not explicit, may not be suitable for younger viewers, or for work.

View at your own discretion.

In case you're wondering, the song is from a little known Broadway play called Avenue Q

Trivial : The three tallest mountains in the world

Mount Everest: The summit of Mount Everest is the highest point on the Earth's surface as measured from sea level, with an elevation of 8,850 meters.

Mount Chimborazo (Ecuador): Although the summit of Volcán Chimborazo is just 6,310 meters above sea level, its summit is the farthest point on the Earth's surface from the Earth's center of mass; a distance of 6,384,404 meters or 3,967 miles.

Mauna Kea: From base to summit, the tallest mountain on Earth is Mauna Kea in Hawai'i. The base of Mauna Kea is 5,998 meters below mean sea level, and when combined with an elevation of 4,205 meters, Mauna Kea has a total height of 10,203 meters.

(Ok, kids, I think that's enough fighting for today)

Inconsiderate bus riders

They make a good point for people being inherently evil...ok, maybe that's too harsh, but they definitely behave in a "me first, f**k you" manner.

There was the lady on the overly full bus who took up two seats, one for her, one for her shopping bags, while she chatted away on the phone. Another lady gestured to her that she'd like to sit down. Phone Lady said, my bags are here, and continued talking on the phone. Standing Lady stood over her, so Phone Lady turned away and faced the window and continued talking. Standing Lady finally realized that Phone Lady was not actually a Lady at all, but was really Selfish, Inconsiderate Evil Bitch Woman in disguise.

Today the bus was once again full, including Wheelchair Guy (he's ok), who effectively takes up 4 seats when he parks in the disabled section at the front of the bus. We pulled into the Bus Station (major bus depot) and several people got off but a crowd of people waited to get on. One older guy from the back of the bus walked down and stood in the rear doorway.

The first two people to board the bus were an old Chinese couple. Ma had several very full shopping bags, Pa was pushing one of those basket carts with wheels. They boarded the bus and in the fashion of most riders got just past the driver, and Ma put her bags down and they stopped, but there were at least 20 people still waiting to board the bus.

As people boarded Ma would pick up her bags, move a step or down closer to the back, then put the bags down. More people would board, and Ma would repeat the shopping bag shuffle. Until she got level with the rear door, where there's two steps up to the back half of the bus, and there she stopped, with Pa right behind her, blocking the entire aisle with his basket cart, and at least ten people still outside waiting to board the bus.

One other woman had joined the man standing in the rear doorway, so it was kind of crowded, but with people pushing and shoving, Ma eventually moved up onto the second step but refused to move any further. Pa managed to force his basket cart into the rear doorway where Standing Man reluctantly made room for him, but only when the basket cart's wheels ran over his foot.

A young man behind Pa managed to squeeze past him, but he really had to force his way past Ma. Everyone else remained stuck in the front of the bus, jammed in like sardines, and yet the entire aisle at the back of the bus was free.

I figured Standing Man (the one in the rear doorway) wanted to get off at the first or second stop past the Bus Station, but he didn't get off at either. Wheelchair guy's stop is about six stops after the station, I figured that would help alleviate the crowd. I was hoping Ma and Pa would be getting off before then, or at least at my stop, because at every stop, if someone wanted to get off, Standing Man had to leave the bus, let them out, then get back in.

At Wheelchair Guy's stop Standing Man let a couple of people off, then he got back on. With Wheelchair Guy getting off, the people at the front of the bus needed to move out of his way, but Ma & Pa effectively prevented anyone from moving further into the bus, so the front passengers left the bus by the front door, and under direction of the driver walked down to the open back door and attempted to board.

Standing Man would have no part of that. Now if he absolutely had to be in the rear doorway, Standing Man could have got out himself, let these people in, and got back on after they'd pushed past Pa and Ma. Once in the back of the bus they could have sat down, because Ma & Pa hadn't let anyone past them to sit in the seats vacated by the riders who'd disembarked earlier.

But Standing Man refused to move.

Standing Man actually said, out loud, "Don't send them down here," as he stood in the doorway and refused to let them in. Being all Hispanic and not wanting to make a fuss, not one of them said to Standing Man "Either get out, or move back, but get the f**k out of our way so we can get on." I wouldn't have said that either, not at first, but I would have politely asked Standing Man to let me past. His continued refusal would have led to a stronger choice of words until I would have uttered the above expletitive.

The Hispancis all turned and walked back to the front door, and once Wheelchair Guy had rolled off the bus and the ramp had been raised, they once again took their place at the front of the bus.

By this time I'd noticed that while Standing Man was willing to step outside to let people get out, Pa would remain standing next to his basket cart and leave approx. 6" for people to squeeze past.

I'm a big guy. I can't fit through a 6" gap. I was already pissed off with the blatant "Me first. Nah, f**k that; me, me, me" attitude displayed by Ma, Pa, and Standing Man, and we were just a few blocks from my stop. It was almost my turn to show these people how to really be a prick.

The bus stopped and Standing Man got out, just as he'd been doing all along for nine stops now. The arrogant prick had blocked the doorway for nine stops, and Orion knows how long he remained standing, blocking the rear doorway after my stop.

Pa stayed next to his basket cart, leaving the 6" gap just like he'd been doing all along.

"Excuse me, please," I said to his back, as another elderly Chinese woman (Not Ma) stepped up to the rear doorway. "Oh, are you getting off too?" I asked her, gesturing at the door, implying she could go first.

Not Ma stood there confused, either not understanding me or my gesture, or perhaps just being polite and wanting me to go through first, just like I was willing to let her go first.

"Excuse me," I said once more to Pa's back.

Just seconds before Pa was forcefully bent forward over his basket cart, he was saved by Pa2, another elderly Chinese man, who alerted Pa to the fact that there was a big white guy behind him wanting to get through, and there must have been something in the big white guy's eyes that told Pa2 to tell Pa to move the f**k out of the way before he got hurt.

Pa stepped around behind his basket cart totally opening up the doorway and allowing me, Not Ma, and several other passengers to leave the bus.

I thanked Standing Man as I got off the bus and walked past him; the arrogant bastard didn't even blink at me. Perhaps I should have said "Thanks for not blocking the doorway, you Arrogant Bastard."

Maybe that would have got a reaction out of him.

A very Pagan Christmas

We attended the second week of Advent service at Church this Sunday. Now I like the Christian faith, even though I know it's been corrupted by The Church over the years, but this Advent service really drives home just how much assimilating of other religions The Church did over the centuries.

Let's start with the 7 candles of Advent. Most people's experience with a Menorah occurs during Chanukah. So most people think a Menorah has 9 candles, but it doesn't. A Chanukah Menorah has 9 candles; a Shabbat Menorah has how many? Anyone? Anyone? You there in the back, with the really long sideburns. Yes, seven. That's right. A Menorah traditionally has 7 candles. While our Advent candles are less in number than a Chanukah Menorah, we're still lighting a Menorah. Don't forget that Jesus wasn't actually a Christian. He was actually Jewish. While Jesus was still alive (I mean on this earth in his manly form), guess what he did during the winter solstice (which is when Chanukah and Christmas coincidentally occur)? That's right, he lit the candles of a Menorah, just like we do during Advent.

Now, about that Christmas tree. It's an evergreen, meaning the leaves/needles don't fall off in Autumn; the tree stays green all year round. In our service last Sunday numerous references were made to "The Ancients" (which already sounds a little paganistic to me) who decided that the Pine Tree was "alive" all year long, so it somehow symbolized Jesus bringing eternal and everlasting life. That a Pine Tree was a predominate feature during the Druids' winter solstice festival, which just happens to occur around Christmas time, was not mentioned during the service.

These same "Ancients" also decided that a wreath made from the prickly leaves and red berries somehow symbolized the bloody crown of thorns worn by Jesus at his death. Do you think the Druids used Holly (also an evergreen) in their winter solstice festival? Yeah, me too.

So during Chanukah and the winter solstice we light the candles of a Menorah, we "worship" a Pine tree, and we hang up wreaths of Holly and decorate our homes with other pagan and Druidic symbols...but we do this as Christians, with the approval of The Church.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still going to be a hypocrite...of sorts...I'm still going to celebrate Christmas. Then again, it could be argued that there's nothing hypocritical about celebrating Christmas if I acknowledge where the various symbols of Christmas come from. I'd only be a hypocrite if I knew the history of Christmas symbology, but pretended it was all Christian-based.

The immovable booger

You know what I hate?

When you get a booger deep up inside one nostril.

It's up there so far that blowing your nose doesn't really dislodge it.

What you need to do is take your little finger (coz it's smaller and more nimble than the rest) and shove it up inside your nostril until you can almost scratch the back of your eyeball, and then you can finally get to the booger.

What's really annoying is when you get a booger deep up inside your nostril like this, and you're at work, so you have no privacy to go rooting around inside your nose like a miner digging for gold.

So the booger stays there, making your nose itch, and you try surreptitious picks, like the full-hand nose scratch where one finger or your thumb slips inside and tries to get to the booger, but that doesn't work, because you need to go long, as they say in football.

You try rubbing the outside of your nose, but that really doesn't help either.

You need to get a finger up deep inside your nostril, but for that, you need privacy.

Coz no one, not even Sienfeld, wants to get caught with a finger in their nose, even if there was no pick.

We watched the latest Harry Potter on the weekend. Good movie. I love how they keep reminding us of Professor Snape's dark past, because it is, after all, an ongoing, integral part of the story. Is he still a bad guy? Has he really reformed? Is he just fooling Dumbledore?

I expect at the end of the series when Harry is on a ledge over the fires of Mount Doom fighting Gollum for the One Ring, I mean, when Harry's fighting Voltemort at some yet to be determined precarious and deadly dangerous location, Harry is going to need Snape. Seriously need him. Like if he doesn't get help from Snape, it'll be all over for Mr. Lightning Bolt Head.

And that's when everyone will be holding their breath.

Both Voltemort and Harry are going to turn to Snape for help, and that's when we find out whose side Snape is really on.

Of course if Snape does turn out to still be a bad guy then Dumbledore will appear and save the day. This will be an unexpected surprise because previously we will have seen Dumbledore apparently fall to his death while fighting a Balrog, but now he's back! Yay!

That's going to be an excellent movie.

Age of Empires III

We bought Liz AoE III the other night, but it wouldn't install on her new PC, coz we got an error message claiming various CAB files were corrupt. The CDs themselves looked fine, but the game wouldn't complete the install. I tried burning a copy of the CD (you know, like threatening something. See here? This is you, only an effigy of you, and I'm burning it...get the picture? Wait, that's not what I meant by "burning a copy"...never mind) but during the burn my DVD reader reported quite a few unreadable sectors on the CD (the original CD, not the burnt copy...I mean all the sectors on the burnt one were unreadable, coz it was burnt, right?...never mind) so I figured the CDs got messed up while they were being produced, so we returned them tonight.

Yes, you can return opened video and PC games, but you can only exchange them for a copy of the exact same game, which was fine with us. Liz had already played the demo and enjoyed it, so we were happy to get a working copy.

We got home, popped in CD#1 (of 3), ran the install, it asked for CD#2, we popped that in...and a corrupt CAB error message came up. WTF? What the hell is this shite? Well the game is produced by Microshaft Microsoft. Need I say more?

This time I attempted to not burn a copy of the CD, but install it, on my PC, and it worked...WTF? Ok, Microshaft Microsoft are taking the piracy thing a little bit too far and are encoding their CDs so they are more difficult to pirate...which is complete BS because they're no more difficult to pirate now than they were last year...but they are harder to install unless you have top of the line readers to handle all the encryption shite, like I do, but Liz doesn't.

I then attempted an install on Liz's PC over our LAN using my PC, and it worked...sort of...despite the fact that in the network neighborhood I could see the shared directory on Liz's PC, and that said directory contained a folder called AoE III, I could see that folder only on my PC. I mean it was on Liz's PC, but I couldn't see it using her PC, I could only see it using my PC. WTF? So Liz calls my bro-in-law to ask him for help, but she calls my bro-in-law by mistake, as in she meant to call my older BIL but called the younger BIL instead. While I was chatting to him I copied the AoE III folder from my PC to Liz's PC over our LAN. Not installed, copied. Liz popped in the CD, and instead of getting an Install prompt, she got a Play prompt. That was good, but another WTF? moment.

So she plays AoE III for a little while, and she's enjoying it...but it's awfully slow...coz she doesn't have a dedicated video card...she has an onboard video card using 64 of her 512Mb of PC2700 DDR Memory, which is enough to run the game...it's enough to run the game. Liz got a little annoyed. Frustrated even. Some might say "Pissed."

I was playing World of Warcraft (as I do every evening) and I don't know what came over me, but I voluntarily gave up my PC so Liz could play her new game. No, she didn't ask me if she could kick me off, I offered my PC to her. She was so pissed at first that she didn't want it, but the desire to actually play the game (not just run it, get the difference?) was too strong, and she agreed.

Tomorrow, we get her a BFG4000 video card...from Best Buy...or maybe I'll see what CompUSA have...although we have a 12% discount coupon at Best Buy...I think BB is gonna get our business...again.

Running late

This morning I was going to take out the trash when I looked at my watch and realized I was running late for my bus, so I left the trash outside the front door (hope it was ok, there) and ran for the bus stop.

At the intersection across the road from the bus stop, while pressing the button for the little green man, I looked down the road and saw the bus coming. I'd just missed the lights so I had to wait for them to cycle, but the bus was approaching, and I would have run across the road like I do sometimes but I never got a large enough break in the traffic.

An elderly Chinese gentleman and his wife normally wait at the stop in mornings with me, and I saw him talking to the bus driver and pointing across the road at me. We have a couple of regular bus drivers, and if you ride the bus often enough you get to know people, not by name, but enough to wish them a good morning.

So I waved at the bus driver, and pressed the button, and prayed for the light to change so I could cross. The driver slowly crept forward and he was probably wanting the light to change, but it didn't, and he crept forward into the intersection, and then, well, he couldn't really stay there, so he drove on through.

I saw the Chinese gentleman looking at me through the window so I waved to him, in appreciation for his willingness to ask the driver to stop. As the light finally changed the bus pulled through the intersection, and stopped, and switched on its flashers.

I ran across the road to the bus stop but once again I was still on the wrong side, and the light was once again against me. But this road is a smaller side street, just one lane each way, with a considerably smaller volume of traffic. Before the light had changed again every car wanting to proceed through the lights had done so, and the way was clear.

I ran across the road, up beside the bus, and the door opened for me. I thanked the driver for waiting and headed up the back to my usual spot. I shook the Chinese gentleman's hand as I passed him and thanked him for asking the bus to stop.

What a beautiful start to the day.

One of life's lessons

When I was younger, maybe 10 years old (not sure of exact age), we visited a paternal uncle and his family in Melbourne. Because they were fairly well off, they had an inground swimming pool. Being summer we all spent a lot of time in the pool. At one point my uncle told me he'd hold a pool bean bag for me (like a regular bean bag but for the pool, not your family room) while I did a forward somersault from the edge of the pool into the bean bag.

So I climbed out and I guess everyone but me knew what was coming because it was a big joke when I did a flip into the pool and hit the water, because my uncle had pulled the bean bag away of course.

Laughing, my uncle told me he'd hold it for me for real this time, so, still trusting him, I climbed out and did another flip and again went straight into the pool.

He was the only one laughing when he did it the third time.

And when I climbed out of the pool the fourth time my Dad told me to stop.

Dad knew by the look in my eyes that I intended to continue doing flips into the pool until my uncle stopped pulling the bean bag away. Dad also knew that my uncle would always pull the bean bag away, long after it had stopped being funny.

See my uncle and my dad intended to teach me a lesson, that you can't trust anyone, not even family, and they were right of course.

But I intended to continue doing flips into the pool because I wanted to teach my uncle a lesson; if there's anyone in life you should be able to trust, it is family.

I did learn something that day. Nothing hurts more than when your family betrays you.

Liz's tiny PC

When I picked up my two sticks of Ram from my local Best Buy, because the store cannot alter an online order, nor give me a refund for the overcharged sales tax, the manager sold me the Ram as if my order never existed. He honored the online price and gave me $5 off, which was the sales tax on the two items. I just had to cancel the order when I got home, which I did, and in the comments section I made sure to mention how upset I was with the CSR I spoke to who couldn't communicate with me, and who couldn't resolve my problem, and who wouldn't transfer me to someone who could.

We ended up picking up a couple of other things while we were in the store. Liz had been complaining about how noisy the fan in the new PC was, because her old PC had a super-quiet fan, and I guess it was, because Liz noticed the new one, so I got a tube of thermal grease, necessary for replacing/changing over heat sinks. I also saw Age of Empires III. Liz said she was getting bored with AoE II and wanted a new game so this was perfect timing.

Back home I opened up the case for the new PC and was amazed again at just how compact they had made it and still got everything inside. Of course it helps that practically everything inside is built into the motherboard, but, you still have a hard drive, a CD Rom, a 3.5" floppy drive, and a power supply (just about the biggest thing in there) all tucked into the tiniest of cases. The hard drive is actually mounted in a bay which runs horizontally across the case, rather than being mounted in the usual manner, i.e., front to back like the CD Rom. In order to change over the hard drive I actually had to remove the entire hard drive bay, not just the hard drive itself. Well, in order to replace the fan and heat sink, I actually had to take out the power supply. This probably means nothing to anyone who hasn't cracked a PC case before, but this is not SOP for replacing CPU fans & heat sinks.

This is akin to shoe horning a 5.0 litre V8 (about a 308 to you imperialists ;) into a Mini Cooper S. We're talking about getting stuff inside an area where it technically fits, but has never, ever been in a space that small before. The economical use of limited space is just sheer genius, although it does make working on those things a real bitka (no offense, Bitka, I just had to throw that in ;).

Fortunately Liz uses her PC for surfing, doing our finances, and playing AoE II (now III) so what she has now is pretty much going to get the job done for a long time. About the only other upgrade I'd consider is a real Video Card. Her onboard card is using 64Mb of the 512Mb of Ram I dropped in, which makes it an average card by industry standards, but it's not a real 3D card. Not that she needs one, but, it would be nice for her to have a dedicated 3D card, so, I might have to buy one and drop it in for her, and then she'd have everything she needs. AoE III should run on her system, but, it may want a real 3D card too, so I could be cracking her PC once more in the very near future.

Some cute kitties

Best Buy's imaginary Customer Service

I've decided I no longer like Best Buy. A month or so back, I visited a Best Buy store with a page printed from their website showing an item and its price. The in-store price was several dollars higher than the online price. The clerk told me they couldn't honor the online price because their website is considered a separate entity from their brick & stone stores. It didn't occur to me at the time that if www.bestbuy.com is a different entity from Best Buy then I should have asked them to price match like they would a competitor.

This morning I placed an order online for two memory cards. Annoyed that I was going to pay twice the S&H for two exact same items (how much harder is it to grab two of one item from a bin and stuff them in a box than just grab one? Not twice as hard, that's for sure) I decided to pick up the cards at my local store, just a few miles away. So I placed the order and put it on my Bestbuy credit card. Several hours later I received an email confirmation that my items were definitely in-store and ready to be picked up. I went to bestbuy.com and verified my order, and discovered I'd been charged twice the sales tax (i.e., 16.5%) for one of the memory cards. I also got charged 8.25% for the other, so it wasn't like the sales tax was combined.

Not a problem, right? I called Bestbuy's Customer Service Dept. where a gentleman by the name of Raj with a heavy indian (asian/middle eastern) accent took my call. Now not only was Raj's accent rather heavy, but his syntax and grammar were way off. Hey, as long as Raj knows his stuff and adjusts the sales tax, I'm ok with that.

Raj had no clue.

Raj has no idea what sales tax is. He doesn't comprehend that two items on the same order at the same price should incur the same sales tax. After amusing me with his bizarre version of english and putting me on hold, it was not so amusing when Raj informed me that he would send my "request" to the "research" department, and that they'd get back in touch with me in 24 to 48 hours.

Excuse me? My "request"? Raj, buddy, this is not a request. Your company charged me the wrong sales tax amount. This should be a simple correction. Just go into the system and change the sales tax so that both items are charged the same amount. Raj cannot do that. Ok, Raj, let me speak to a supervisor, coz this is going nowhere. I'm sorry, Hal, I can't do that. Now Raj sounds like a nice guy, but there's something in the way he's denying my request to speak to a supervisor that says my call begins and ends at Raj. So I hang up on him.

And I call the local Best Buy store.

The one where I plan to pick up the memory cards after work. The one in California which will understand about Sales Tax.

A girl answers, I explain the situation, I need a refund because I've been charged the wrong sales tax. She transfers me to another girl. I explain the situation to her. She transfers me to a guy. He works in the Home Theater section, so he transfers me to Customer Service. The second girl answers the phone. She's still working on my problem, she says. Why I ended up at Home Theater I don't know, although I've been sent there while visiting their brick & stone store as well. It's as if Home Theater is the place to send a customer when you don't want to deal with them.

After talking to someone else there, 2nd girl comes back and tells me I'll need to speak to a manager when I come into the store.

I plan to do just that.

I've also written a nice letter to Best Buy corporate detailing how unhappy I am with their so called Customer Service. I'll be giving the manager at my local Best Buy a copy of the letter when I go there this afternoon.

I used to love Best Buy. I'm not so happy with them anymore.

Half the weekend

We went out for Breakfast at Millie's in Covina with the in-laws. It wasn't too bad, but not unlike a Denny's. The service was a little slow, food preparation wise, but those coffee refills kept on coming, even before the food arrived, and I got seriously wired.

They had a Solitaire "jump-the-pegs-until-one's-left" game on each table. I was able to get down to one peg almost every game I played. JE got down to three a couple of times, the FIL just didn't seem to have a clue. Now he's an intelligent man (I'd like to think) but he had a huge problem "seeing" the moves he needed to end up with one peg. Of course he was also trying to be clever and finish with 8 pegs and no legal jumps, but that's damn near impossible.

And what the hell is up with people who cannot cook "fried eggs over medium" as I always request? Denny's cannot do it. Several breakfasts at Denny's I get my eggs over easy, which is not a big problem, I'll eat that, but I ordered over medium. I ordered over medium at Millie's too, and they came back "over-less-than-easy". I kid you not, the whites were still runny, not the yolk (it was runny, too) but the whites. We'd waited so long for our meal that I just ate it anyway. Liz and the MIL ordered over easy, they got over easy. No surprise there, I almost had over easy myself, just another minute or two on the grill and they would have been over easy, but I ordered over medium.

After breakfast the kids went with the in-laws and Liz & I stopped at Ikea where we picked up a set of shelves for the garage. After they were put together Liz turned them into a shoe rack. The garage is looking a lot cleaner now, so much so that we actually found the key to the padlock on the back gate. We promptly made use of the key and unlocked the gate because the gardeners had arrived. It's a good thing we were in the garage because the gate has been locked ever since they let Anzac out (he was found by a neighbor a couple of doors up) and they cut down the tree we had growing in the backyard. The gardeners asked if we wanted them to cut the lawn, we said yes. We'd already locked Anzac all the way around the back and Liz picked up the little surprises he'd left on the lawn.

Saturday JE wanted to ride his bike (he still has training wheels) and I had a cunning plan. We rode (JE rode) down to the bike path alongside the river, where I hooked Anzac's leash to his bike and he pulled JE along the bikepath. I actually had two leashes on Anzac. One for him to pull JE, and the other I hung onto to make sure Anzac didn't run down into the river. JE thought it was neat that Anzac was pulling him along, and Anzac got a good workout, which he needs, being a Border Collie.

We joined friends of Liz's at the Macaroni Grill Saturday night and pigged out. The husband is in the clothing business (manufacturing brand name clothing in China, not knock-offs, he has contracts with the stores to make the "original" items) so I wound up with a bunch of new clothes. Liz gave her friend (who is 7 months pregnant; "just 71 days to go" she said) a bag of her old maternity clothes, so it was a fair trade. We were going to catch a movie at Santa Anita afterwards, but the four story parking structure was jam-packed, at 7:30 on a Saturday night. Then again, there's also a Dave & Busters which accesses that same structure, but it was 7:30 on a Saturday night, and that structure was fuller than I've ever seen it. Liz gave up and we headed for home...after stopping at TJ Max's first ;)

This morning I plan to get Liz a new PC. I think the mobo on her old one is dying. Fry's have a good PC (full system, will just have to change the hard drives over) for $170. It will give Liz an upgrade at a fairly low cost.

I'm hungry. I made myself a bowl of Cheerios, took a big spoonful, was chewing away and noticed a rather bitter taste. Checked the carton of milk, it expired two days ago. We have no more milk. There's probably breakfast goodies in the freezer. I'm going to check. Bye for now.

Homestyle Cafe

The owner of the Homestyle Cafe was a lovely English woman who probably took to me a little more than her average customer because of our shared heritage, and I always took the time to have a quick chat with her whenever we visited there for their HUGE breakfast at rock bottom prices.

I just found out she passed away not too long ago. Her children decided they didn't want to go into the restaurant business, and so the Homestyle Cafe is no longer open for business.

My cousin must know someone

First he features in this article which appeared in The Age, one of the major Australian newspapers.

A few months later he rears his head once more in this article.

I'm not jealous, I'm just feeling a little melancholoy at the moment; googling relatives, being cognizant of the time that's gone by.

The Tetras have arrived

We made a trip to the Pet Store tonight and picked up eight Neon Tetras. I only have a 10-gallon tank, but Tetras only grow to 1.5” or so, and they’re narrow bodied fish, which means you can put in more fish than the recommended 1” of fish per gallon of water. Plus the Tetras are schooling fish, so I wanted to get several of them. Six would have been a good number too, but I’m expecting one or two to not make it (just the way things are) so if we do lose one or two we’ll still have six of them, which is still a decent number for a small school.

I did several water changes throughout the week, changed out the filter (again) and got an A-Ok from the guy at the Pet Store who tested the water, so last night we picked up a small plant and the Tetras.

After a lengthy acclimation of over half an hour, the Tetras were finally out of their plastic bag and happy to be swimming around in the tank in a little school. Amber was extremely excited to see the tank occupied once again and we’re going to have to keep an eye on her because as soon as she’d pulled herself up next to the tank she was banging on the glass and it was extremely obvious why aquariums ask you not to do that; the Tetras were swimming around at a mile a minute, with a couple of them even hiding in the plant or under the rock decoration.

Then we noticed that one of the Tetras that we’d thought was hiding in the plant was still hiding in the plant, face down, under a leaf, not moving. The school had regrouped but this particular fish was still hiding, face down, under a leaf, not moving. Man, they’d been in the tank barely twenty minutes and we had our first casualty. I poked the net into the tank and a JE did a quick 180 from tears of grief to tears of joy as the "dead" fish shot out of the plant and rejoined the school.

The website I linked to earlier tells me the Tetras like a darker substrate/gravel in their tank, as it makes them feel a little more secure. I seem to recollect reading that a darker substrate also helps to bring out the colors in colorful fish, so I think I’ll have to pick up a bag of darker/black gravel and start mixing it in with the current substrate. As that would probably make a lot of substrate in the aquarium I think I’ll have to replace a substantial portion of the substrate, not just pour the dark gravel in on top of the current lot.

And now, here’s a picture of me and my coworkers from last Monday, when we wore our pajamas to work. Actually we didn’t wear them to work, we just wore them at work :)

The things you find on the Web

I was searching for sites explaining the laws regarding a licensed driver driving without being in possession of their driver's license, i.e., they left it at home, in their other jacket, pants, etc.

Then I discovered this gem. Now I'm a Christian, but I find the thought of The Kingdom of Heaven Driver's License to be just a little bit disturbing.
You can also register your car with the Kingdom of Heaven. The KoH gets the title to your car, you become a steward of the vehicle; so KoH owns your car but you have their permission to drive it. That's scary.

From their website, here's their spiel on how to become a resident of the Kingdom of Heaven.

"Take care of your State obligations. If you are in debt, pay off your loans as quickly as possible. If you have long-term loans or mortgages, consider selling the property or letting the bank foreclose. If you are burdened with loans, you are a servant to the lender and are still in bondage. If you can become free, do so.

After paying off your loans, you will no longer need a corporate job. Ask God to lead you to work where you do not need the marks of the beast, such as a social security number and State licenses.

You will also need to withdraw your children from public school and remove the family from any State tax-supported activities. If you wish to partake of public libraries, swimming pools and community colleges, pay non-resident rates."

I guess I'm not yet ready to become a resident of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Happy Halloween

JE dressed up as a member of the Power Rangers SPD (which I assume means Special Police Department, or something else equally clever, witty, and irrelevant) while Amber was a pink butterfly.

Liz picked me up from the Bus Station, then we went and grabbed a couple of pizzas, picked up her dad, and headed for the Church where we ate the pizzas while waiting for everyone to arrive for the Trunk or Treat party. Our Church decided to create a safer way for kids to Trick or Treat, so every Halloween the members of our church now park in the church parking lot, open their trunks, pull out the decorations, and decorate the back ends of their cars for "Trunk or Treat".

Having made a last minute reservation for Trunk or Treat (the church likes to know who's attending), and an unsuccessful last minute hunt for costumes for us (adult costumes, that is. The kids already had theirs) I told Liz not to bother getting decorations because most of the people who decorate their cars go to extravagant lengths, so any cheap, last minute attempt we made would look like a cheap, last minute attempt.

After Amber and JE made the rounds of the cars, JE stood behind our car giving out the candy we'd brought. We were the only ones there with Cadbury's Chocolate Frogs :)

I think Cadbury totally missed the boat by not teaming up with Warner Bros. and inserting Harry Potter picture cards into each Chocolate Frog packet. Unless they did do that, but only in the U.K. or Australia while I wasn't there.

On the way home we stopped at a neighborhood "Haunted House". Not a real Haunted House but one someone had created in their backyard for Halloween. As we slowed down to look at it JE announced that he wanted to go in. So Liz stopped the car and we joined the small group of people standing outside the Haunted House. The excited screams and squeals from inside told me that our neighbors had gone the extra mile to ensure any visitors to their Haunted House received a good scare.

When we got to the front of the line the man asked if we wanted to be scared, or not scared. Looking down at the 5-year old boy hanging off my arm I decided "not scared" was probably the wiser choice. A small group behind us had two little 'uns with them, even younger than JE, so they wanted to come through and be "not scared" as well. The man said the little 'uns could come through and be "not scared" but the older girls (teenagers) needed to be scared, so their mom took the little 'uns in, with JE and I bringing up the rear.

The man led us through the twisting, turning, narrow corridors of the Haunted House, calling out "Not scary! No scaring, please! Not scary." It's amazing what you can do with a tarpaulin, numerous sheets of black plastic, a fog machine and fake cobwebs. At various points the Haunted House's narrow corridors opened up (ever so slightly) into small rooms whereupon there'd be either someone in a monster costume who'd wave and say hello, or some scary props, such as glowing skulls with red eyes.

JE got a little bit scared, and it was probably a little scarier than he was expecting, but as we went through I reminded him about Luigi in the Nintendo Gamecube game Luigi's Mansion. Although Luigi is scared he still enters a Haunted House and fights the ghosts inside to rescue Mario. Reminding JE of Luigi helped him to be brave, and before we knew it we had made it through the Haunted House and were out the other side.

When we got home and had put Amber down for the night, it came as no surprise to me when JE pulled Luigi's Mansion from the cupboard and asked me to play :)

Presenting...HERMES!!!

Because you requested it, the Capn delivers it.

And now...heeeeeeere's Hermes ! ! !


Here he is, hanging out next to his pool.

Remember, you can click on the photo to get up close and personal with Hermes, the Hermit crab ;)

*Update*
I got some even better shots of Hermes late last night but haven't had a chance to download them to my PC yet. I was surprised at how photogenic he was. Normally if you come near his tank he withdraws into his shell, but last night the camera flash was repeatedly going off just 12" to 18" from his tank, and he didn't care. Compared to his old shell that new one is huge; if he chooses to he can completely withdraw into it. It wasn't until I put in those two shells (you can see the second behind him in the background) and he discarded his old shell that I realized just how small the old shell was. I'm sure he's a lot more comfortable in his new shell.

Here's Hermes again; this is a really clear shot.
Click on the photo to get up close & personal ;)

The lady on the bus

There's a mother on my bus,
with a three year old child.
It's just gone six ten a.m.
Lady, where are you going this morning,
with your child still wrapped in a blanket?

I know the bus that you ride,
I know from whence you have came.
I know the time you left behind
your warm, safe house this morn.
Lady, where do you go at this time?

You get off the bus at my stop,
and I look back as I enter my office.
You cross the road and head east,
into territory that I dare not enter.
Not at this time of the morn.

Mother and child in a blanket,
it's too early for you to be out.
You should be home, where it's warm and it's safe.
Yet here you are, walking the streets.
Where do you go at this time?

Hermes the Hermit crab

We visited the Pet Store on Sunday to check out Tetras (to replace Mr. Piggy) but we'll need a small heater coz Tetras are tropical fish. The fish guy also recommended we wait a few days before dropping in some Tetras, and also do a 50% water replacement, stir up the gravel on the bottom of the tank, basically give the tank a chance to settle down. Ammonia and Nitrate levels were a little high, nothing off the charts, but high enough that he recommends a 50% water change which is extreme and would kill any fish if they were in the tank when I did that. The Tetras will be much prettier fish, plus we can get a small school of 6 or so of them for our 10-gallon tank.

We also picked up a couple of extra Hermit crab shells, for Hermes, our Hermit crab. No, not Herpes, Hermes.

One of the shells was a round, snail like shell, such as he already wears, but in a more natural "shell" color (his current shell is red). The other shell is a more pointed shell. Both are of a similar size and unpainted.

I popped the shells in a pot of boiling water the other night, then went upstairs and forgot all about them until I could smell the scum burning on the inside of the pot. I ran downstairs and sure enough the pot had boiled dry, but all around the inside of the pot was this brown scum which had come out from inside the shells. I boiled some more water, poured it in on top of the shells, then poured the whole thing into a bowl to cool. The next night I removed the shells from the water and dropped them into Hermes tank. Despite giving him fresh food, several hours later he was still under his log, although he looked like he was thinking of coming out in an hour or two, but maybe only if I stopped looking in at him.

This morning when I had breakfast I looked in on him, and he'd switched shells. He didn't go for the plainer version of his current shell; he went for the more streamlined, pointier shell.

He's looking pretty sharp in his new threads. As soon as I can, I'll get you a picture ;) Only problem is he is nocturnal. I know, I know. The Hermit crabs in the pet stores and malls run around in that huge tank all day, under that bright light. That's because they're running around trying to find shelter to go to sleep, because it's obviously daylight, there are predators around, and they need a safe place to sleep. Hermit crabs in stores and malls must live a very stressful life.

Sudoku

I have a new vice, it's called Sudoku.

You may remember these, or something similar to them, from your school days, called Magic Squares. Sometimes they were a simple 3x3 grid requiring you to insert the numbers 1 thru 9 such that each row and column added up to a predesignated amount (basic algebra stuff).

Sudoku is more logic based (not that math is not logical) but Sudoku asks you to insert the numbers 1 thru 9 in each row, each column, and in each of the nine 3x3 grids.

When I first came across this in the LA Times it took me a good couple of hours to work the puzzle out. Each day the time to solve the puzzle became shorter. Then I realized some basic techniques to help solve the puzzle, and this morning I solved today's puzzle in under half an hour.

The easiest way to work the puzzle out is to, quite obviously, eliminate impossible numbers for each row and/or column so that, as Sherlock Holmes is reported to have said, once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

An alternative means to solving these puzzles is to work out which number must go into a certain column, again by process of elimination. If you have two 3x3 grids with the same number in them, then you know by process of elimination which row or column in the third 3x3 grid (in a straight line) houses that particular number. If there is only one spare block in that row/column, it's obvious where that particular number must go. However, if there are two or three open blocks, then you must look to see if you can eliminate one or both of those superfluous blocks, thus eliminating the impossible, and arriving at the truth.

Solving Sudoku does not require any math-based skills, rather it requires logical thinking and deductive reasoning, and it's a good way to pass the time if you have nothing better to do.

"Improv Everywhere" strike again!

On May 21, 2005, U2 performed at Madison Square Gardens in New York City.

Half an hour before their concert, thanks to Improv Everywhere, U2 gave a 4-song rooftop appearance right across the road from The Garden.

I love this one. I wished I lived in New York City, or there was an Improv Everywhere chapter here in L.A. These guys are awesome.

Amber is one; Mr. Piggy is dead

So yesterday was my daughter's first birthday. We had a few friends and relatives over. I went out and got pizza. Liz made her world-famous li'l wieners in grape jelly & cocktail sauce (don't knock it, they're yummy). JE played with the other kids, including a game of hide & seek where him and another boy hid really well under one of the beds, and no-one could find them, because there is a divider under that bed which means you can only see one half of the floor underneath the bed. JE and is cousin fed Mr. Piggy, and fed him, and fed him, and by the time the party was winding up Mr. Piggy wasn't looking too good. A couple of the guests commented that he was sitting on the gravel at the bottom of the tank. Did I mention he was all alone after Mr. Whacko went belly up? Then someone mentioned about the kids feeding him, and I noticed flakes of food sitting in the bottom of the tank, and that was a sure sign something was wrong; Mr. Piggy never leaves food behind, and I do mean never. The kids must have given him a ton of food for him to not be able to eat it all.

JE & Amber spent the night with the in-laws. I was gonna bitch about the FIL but I figure he's our problem...although I will say what is up with people who love to dish it out but can't take it? Ok, so I guess I will bitch about the FIL. He went to try one of Liz's world-famous li'l wieners (you know the rest) and asked if they're spicy. Knowing he can't handle spicy food, I of course replied "oh yes, they are." He looks at me and says, "It's not nice to lie." Never mind that this is how he jokes, by lying to you, then when you get upset he will act all indignant and say "I was only joking." Nope, there is no "practice what you preach" with the FIL.

Anyway, the kids went to the in-laws for the evening, and sometime last night I went downstairs and saw Mr. Piggy lying upside down on the bottom of the tank. This morning, he was floating belly-up, so I scooped him out, bagged him, and tossed him in the trash.

I'm planning to get half a dozen or so Tetras, but to do that I need to get a heater, because Tetras like warmer water. Tetras are also smaller (like a maximum of 1.5" long) so I can put more of them in the tank, and they don't produce as much waste/ammonia/nitrates etc as Mr. Piggy would.

Having the day to ourselves today, Liz and I went and saw the Doom movie, with WWE's The Rock. It was not an Oscar winning movie, but I didn't expect it to be, and because I didn't have high expectations for it, I enjoyed it. Liz enjoyed it too, except for the wanker behind us who started talking to his buddy, and Liz told him to shut up (yeah, she said shut up). He obviously thought he was Stone Cold Steve Austin, because he says, "What?" Liz says, "You heard me." He says, "What?" Liz says, "Shut the f**k up!" (yeah, she said that too). The guy says, "What?" but I also hear his buddy saying to him, real quiet, "Dude, shut up," and he finally does, and we were able to enjoy the rest of the movie.

We had dim sum for lunch, or yum cha, depending on which part of China you come from (both are equally yummy), then later we joined Liz's parents for dinner and pigged out again. I am stuffed!

Good night, all.

HEY, XINH!!!

Do NOT follow this link.
Don't say I didn't warn you ;)

Omar Shamshoon

I'm not sure how much credence to give to this story about Homer Simpson, I mean Omar Shamshoon and his family moving from Springfield, USA, to...er...Somewhereville, ME...that's Middle East.

Now apparently to make The Simpsons, I mean The Shamshoons a little more palatable to the nation of Islam, the producers of The Shamshoons have removed anything forbidden by the Koran, such as bacon, beer, and any other references that might be considered offensive.

Instead of chugging down Duff Beer like it's going out of fashion (which it is, the Koran forbids alcohol) Omar Shamshoon will guzzle down good old Arab Soda. Hot dogs will become Egyptian beef sausages, and donuts will become a popular Arab cookie called "kahk."

So, if Beer is verbotten, what about the Cheers-like scenes set in Moe's Tavern? Say goodbye to Moe's, because Somewhereville, ME has no place for it. Moe's has been written out of "The Shamshoons", along with any characters who are Jewish (Krusty the Clown), Hindu (Apu Nahasapeemapetilon) and Christian (Rev. Lovejoy and Flanders).

Man, and we thought we had it tough here with censorship.

So, has anyone else seen anything about this? Does the name of the new show "The Shamshoons" imply that this just might be a joke? After all, Matt Groening, The Simpson's creator, is famous for his sense of humor. Could this be a build-up to the Simpson's Annual Halloween Special?

Maybe the Wall Street Journal is in on the gag too.

If the story is legit, and it isn't just some huge publicity stunt, it's no surprise that The Shamshoons is not a hit in its highly edited "Islamic" form. I say the producers should have attempted to do a direct translation of The Simpsons and kept the series for what it is; a satirical show which takes a jab at everything that is wrong with American society. Now that kind of show is something the Nation of Islam would have appreciated.

Part I - Blanchard

The first two parts of the following story told first from Blanchard's then Hollis' point of view are Urban Legends, of sorts. The Epilogue is my own addition.
* * * * *

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Marine's uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He was looking for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, who had told him he would know her by the rose she'd be wearing in her lapel.

Blanchard's interest had begun eighteen months before while browsing a second-hand book store, and one book in particular had intrigued him; not with its words but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and an insightful mind. In the front of the book, Blanchard  discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell, and after some time and effort he located her address up in New York City.

Blanchard wrote to Hollis and invited her to correspond with him but the next day he was shipped overseas to fight for his country in World War II. When her reply caught up to him in France, Blanchard was surprised and delighted that she had taken the chance and written back.

During the next year and a half the two grew to know each other through the mail, and each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart and their romance bloomed. Several times Blanchard requested a photograph but each time Hollis refused. She said that if he really cared, it shouldn't matter what she looked like.

When the day finally came for him to return from Europe they scheduled their first meeting; 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel."

Now it was 7:00pm, and Blanchard was in the station, looking for a girl whose heart he loved but whose face he'd never seen.

He saw a young woman approach. Her figure was long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears, and her eyes were as blue as a clear summer sky. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. Such was her beauty that he started toward her, not yet aware that she was not wearing a rose.

As he moved toward her she looked up at Blanchard and a small, provocative smile curved her lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured to him. Almost uncontrollably Blanchard made one step closer, and then he saw the lady standing behind her, the lady with a rose in her lapel. Hollis Maynell.

While the young lady was just entering her twenties, Hollis Maynell was well into her thirties. Whereas the young lady's hair was light and blonde, Ms. Maynell's hair was light and greying. The contrast between the two was evident, right down to the rose on Ms. Maynell's lapel; a rose which Blanchard was now painfully aware that the pretty, young lady did not possess.

As their eyes met, Blanchard realized that Hollis had been watching him the entire time. From the corner of his eye he saw the girl in the green suit walk quickly away, and he felt as though he was being torn in two. He was filled with the urge to follow the girl, yet that desire was matched by his longing for the woman whose spirit had upheld his own during his time at war. And now she stood in front of him. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, and her brown eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle.

Blanchard gripped the worn, blue leather copy of the book that was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, perhaps something even better than love, a friendship for which he had been and must still be ever grateful. He squared his shoulders, saluted, and held out the book to the woman. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard,” he said, “and you must by Miss Maynell.” Even as he spoke the words, John felt choked by the bitterness of his disappointment. “I'm so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"

The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about, son," she answered, "but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she asked me to wear this rose on my coat. She said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test."

Blanchard possessed just enough presence of mind to thank the lady, before he turned and set off in pursuit of the "love of his life".

* * * * *

Part II - Hollis

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," I thought to myself while in the taxi, heading toward Union Station. I was going to meet John Blanchard for the first time, although truth be told, we already knew each other so well from our correspondence.

My interest in John first started when I received a letter from him, approximately four months after my husband had been killed in the war. Perhaps that led me to hope that in John's writings, I might find a new love.

John claimed to have found a book of mine; one that I had marked notes in. I honestly don't remember doing it, but I was willing to accept it as truth, because that is the kind of thing I'd do, so I wrote back.

Almost two months passed before I received John's reply. Like my husband John had also been called away to fight in the war, and he implored me to keep writing. So we exchanged letters and during the next eighteen months we grew to know each other through the mail. I couldn't help but hope that a new romance was budding. Even my friends teased me about him.

About six months into our correspondence, John sent me a photograph of him and requested one in return. I said that if he really cared about me, it wouldn't matter what I looked like. Several times he requested a photograph and each time I refused. I told him that I wanted to look into his eyes the first time he saw my face. Finally the war ended and John was to return home.

We arranged to meet in Grand Central Station at 7:00pm. Since I hadn’t given John a picture I told him that he would recognize me by the red rose in my lapel. He responded that he would be carrying my blue leather book, which he'd carried to Europe and back.

As the taxi pulled up to the curb I placed the rose in my lapel, paid the driver, and left the cab. My first impulse was to turn around, right there and then, and forget this whole crazy thing. Instead, I pressed on. It was just a few minutes past 7:00 when I first saw John.

I recognized him instantly; if the uniform wasn't a giveaway, the book he was carrying was enough. He was a handsome man, clean-cut and fresh from his tour of duty. He reminded me of my late husband, and a tear formed in my eye. But he had not yet seen me.

As I began to approach him, a remarkably beautiful girl dressed in an elegant emerald suit passed in front of him, and the desire in his eye was all too obvious. As she walked past he took a step in her direction before seeing me; a 35 year-old woman, just a few years past her prime, and the beauty of the young lady only accentuated the effects of time on my own appearance.

John looked longingly at the young girl as she left the station before he finally approached me, and I was more acutely aware of my homely appearance than ever before. "I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard," he said, taking my hand and shaking it, "and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?"

He tried. He really tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but I could hear it only too well. All of my fears had been realized, and I recognized that it would never work between us. Fighting back the tears I replied as cheerfully as I could, "I don't know what this is about, son, but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she asked me to wear this rose on my coat. She said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test."

That was all the convincing he needed. He thanked me and walked away. After three steps he started to run.

It was only then that I called out to him. "John, wait!" But it was too late. I turned around and walked away, crying.

Looking back on that day, I sometimes fantasize what if I was the young lady? Or if John hadn't been so quick to believe that I was? I sit here now, wondering whether or not John caught up to the young lady, and what he did when he found out that she wasn't me. What if I had just handled things a little differently. I wonder what might have been.

* * * * *

EPILOGUE

Hollis sat at the small, scarred, wooden table in her cozy kitchen in her one bedroom apartment. There wasn't a lot of room in the apartment, but Hollis wasn't someone who needed much room. Her two children from her first marriage were long grown with children of their own, and her second husband had passed away almost ten years ago now.

She sat quietly, sipping her cup of tea. Although she'd favored coffee in the past, a single cup left her with heartburn and kept her up half the night. The Sunday paper was open in front of her but Hollis wasn't reading it. With her hands clasped gently around the warm cup, Hollis stared out the kitchen window into the tiny backyard where a cherry tree, lit by the afternoon sun, was fighting to find its niche in the suburban jungle surrounding it.

The chimes of her doorbell broke her reverie of yesteryear, and as the notes died away they were punctuated by a knock at her front door.

"Coming!" Hollis called out, as she slowly climbed to her feet and made her way to the front of the apartment. Although it was just a short distance from the kitchen to the front door, the passing of the years had slowed Hollis down so she called out once more, just in case her unknown visitor hadn't heard her the first time. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

Peering through the peephole Hollis saw an elderly gentleman with graying hair. Something about the man's appearance spoke to Hollis and she sensed that there was no danger here. A few weeks ago, Mrs. Jenkins, the widower from three doors down, had been been beaten and robbed for opening her door to the wrong person, but as Hollis looked out at the man she couldn't help but feel she knew him from somewhere.

As the man reached out to knock again he looked up at the peephole, and Hollis looked into his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat and she took a step back in shock.

Hands trembling, she fumbled with the security bolt for several seconds before she finally managed to slide it across, then she unlocked the door and pulled it wide open to stare at the aging soldier in front of her.

His uniform was old and faded, and it hung a little in some places, but it was still very neatly pressed, and as the old soldier snapped to attention it seemed as though he and the uniform were made for each other.

Then he smiled at Hollis and she went weak at the knees and she had to lean even more heavily on the door for support.

"I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard," he said, offering her his right hand, (a very old, very worn, blue leather-bound book was clasped in his left.) "You must be Miss Maynell. I'm glad you could meet me. May I take you to dinner?"

Shooting is hard work

Today I hit the range with a good friend of mine who served with the U.S.M.C. during the Desert Storm conflict. I got to shoot (more than just) the five numbered guns in the above picture.You can click on the photo to view a slightly larger version of it.

Here's a picture of me with the .50 caliber (the BFG at the back of the above photo).



I also shot several skeet with both a Winchester and a Mossberg 12-gauge pump-action shotgun. I impressed my friends when I nailed 5 of 5 skeet with the Mossberg, which seemed the easier of the guns to shoot. The Winchester has a tighter choke which means the pellets didn't spread as much, so you needed to be dead-on accurate with it. I was the only one who could actually hit a skeet with the Winchester :)

Not pictured are several .357 Magnums and a .44 Magnum (all revolvers), all of which were actually fairly pleasant to shoot...except for the .44 Magnum which kicked like a mule. It was not the most brutal handgun to shoot, that honor belonged to a friend's Beretta Tomcat, a tiny semi-automatic that could fit in the hip pocket of a pair of jeans and almost go undetected. Because it was so small it kicked a lot, even though it only fired a .32ACP round.

I guess with the adrenaline flowing, I didn't care about bruising, but now my right shoulder is starting to feel a little tender, and for some reason my whole body aches as if I spent the day working instead of playing and having fun, and boy, did I have fun :)

Sight/s of the day was the deer which wandered across the back of the range. In the morning, while we were shooting the handguns, and in the early afternoon while we were blazing away with the rifles. Now keep in mind that my friend and two other shooters had their .50 caliber rifles out and firing, and several people were blowing skeet out of the sky, so there was a lot of noise going on, and yet these deer wandered within 400 yards of the shooters. No, we didn't shoot them, it's not deer season, and as soon as a Lane Marshall noticed the deer, a "Cease Fire! Deer on the Range" announcement was made, so we had to stop shooting or risk a $10,000 fine for shooting dear out of season :P

All in all, we had a great day. Thanks go to my buddy for providing the day's toys, and to my wife for letting me out to play :)

Aaagh, you got me!

Liz tagged me, I think, so here goes.

Band of choice: Men At Work.

Are you male or female: Man With Two Hearts
Describe yourself: Down Under.
How do some people feel about you: Be good, Johnny.
How do you feel about yourself: Helpless Automaton
Describe what you want to be: Down By The Sea.
Describe how you live: Upstairs In My House.
Describe how you love: Settle Down, My Boy.
Share a few words of wisdom: No Sign Of Yesterday.

I think I'll tag Mogs :)

A missed opportunity

I was thinking quick, but not quick enough.I was out walking with a coworker and we were waiting to cross with the lights at a busy downtown intersection. We got the green light and started out into the cross walk, but watching the cross traffic as one always does in Los Angeles, and probably in many other parts of the country (if not the world), and a good thing too.

A young lady, in her brand new car, still with dealer plates, rolled across the pedestrian's cross walk and stopped, just on the other side, halfway out into the intersection. She came within a couple of feet of hitting me, and would have done so if I hadn't been paying more attention. She then foolishly engaged Reverse, as if the pedestrians she'd almost run down were going to let her back her car up out of the intersection.

Not a chance. Not one.

Everyone walked around behind her car, and she was forced to sit out in the intersection, blocking one lane, which had a big old bus in it. Once the light finally changed to green for her, despite her having a 12 foot lead on everyone else, she was the slowest car through the intersection. I guess her little incident shook her up somewhat. I guess almost running down half a dozen pedestrians probably would shake someone up a bit.

Afterwards, I realized I'd missed my opportunity. She wasn't going that fast. She stopped just the other side of the pedestrian crossing, with the back of her car blocking part of the crossing. Had I really been on my toes, I could have ignored her and stepped in front of her car, and got hit. I would have thrown my weight upwards and backwards and landed across her hood (bonnet for you non-US readers) with probably nothing more serious than a couple of bruises. But I wasn't thinking quite that clearly, or opportunistically, or right now I'd be lying on an Ambulance stretcher giving my statement to a police officer. With me would have been my coworker, a government employee, not as above reproach (in the eyes of the law) as a Police Officer, but still a more than credible witness. I would have also ensured the bus driver did not leave the scene, and thus acquired a second government employee as my witness.

Of course knowing my luck, after she hit me, the girl would probably have floored it right into the intersection in a foolish attempt to flee the scene (coz that's just my luck) and she would have either rammed another car, or I would have gone flying and bouncing down the road and really hurt myself.

Maybe it's for the better that I didn't seize the moment and launch an unethical operation, which could have netted a small fortune.

Liz, don't be too mad. Yeah, maybe I passed up an easy opportunity to score a few hundred thousand dollars, but the potential for me to have been seriously hurt if I did jump in front of her is fairly high, not to mention, what if she was one of those thousands of drivers who don't have insurance.

Yah, there's a reason why honest people don't usually participate in dishonest activities.

From the depths of my memory

I was young, not sure how young, but maybe 6 to 8 years old at most.

We'd been to a birthday party at a younger cousin's house. My aunt had five kids, and each new kid supplanted those who came before, until she had R, when she stopped...or maybe she had her tubes tied. I don't know, I don't care, she had no more after R. He was the baby of the family, and he was spoiled rotten. He could do nothing wrong and he always got whatever he wanted.

The birthday party was R's birthday party. In keeping with the natural order of things, that when kids leave birthday parties they take a balloon with them, I had taken a balloon with me. I was in my seat in the back of the car, holding my balloon, when R decided he wanted my balloon, and my aunt had to get it for him. It didn't matter that there were probably more balloons inside the house, or that this one had been given to me, R. wanted my balloon, and my Auny had no choice but to get it for him. I remember her running down the path towards our car. My window was down because my seat was closest to the house and we were all in the car saying goodbye.

My aunt is not an attractive woman. In fact she's a downright scary looking woman. When I replay the scene of her bearing down upon the car, one word comes to mind. An appropriate word, I believe.

Harpy.

I remember screaming and complete chaos ensuing. I think I remember my older sister telling my dad to drive away. I remember my aunt leaning in the window of the car, tugging at my balloon, trying to pull it from my arms. I remember her fingers pressing at the sides of the balloon and it seems to me that she'd decided if she couldn't get it for R, then I wouldn't have it either. I can see her hands and her fingernails as I cast my mind back across the years, but I don't see hands, I see claws, I see talons.

I don't remember what happened. I guess my dad couldn't drive off with my aunt hanging half in and half out of the car. Maybe the balloon burst. Maybe my aunt gave up. Maybe she got the balloon away from me. I don't remember any of that. I just remember this screeching woman bearing down on the car, and her hands clawing at my balloon. I remember the fear and panic I felt at this moment.

We all had traumatic times in our childhood. This is one of mine.

The weekend in review

Saturday was a real rush job (except for a relaxed few hours in the afternoon, which only contributed to the rushing continuing into the late afternoon.

I dropped Liz at the hairdressers Saturday morning, then took JE to the Huntington Arboretum for a Kids Art Class. Liz had said it was at 10:45, but when we got there everyone tried to tell me the only class was for 12 noon. Now it's not like my wife to be wrong. I'm not saying she's always right (she has a horrible sense of direction and could get lost on a one-way street), but when it comes to organizational stuff she usually knows exactly what's going on and when. So when the girls at the front entrance to the Arboretum told me the only class was scheduled for 12, not 10:45, I was a little skeptical. The girls passed me off onto the Members Office, apparently a separate entity from the Front Entrance, the two areas never know what each other is doing. On this they both agreed, there was no 10:45 class. Feeling a little confused that my wife had insisted the class was at this time JE and I went outside and looked at the peacocks for a few minutes. Then I noticed a man who looked suspiciously like an Art Teacher going into the Gift Shop; a third building at the entrance to the Arboretum (the tub of pens & pencils, and the art folio kind of gave it away that he might be an Art Teacher). JE and I headed into the Gift Shop and found no sign of the "Art Teacher". We looked around for a minute and JE decided he wanted one of the Peacock feathers they sell for $1.50

I bought a feather for him and made small talk with the cashier about the art class, and sure enough, it had been the Art Teacher who'd passed through. The cashier directed me out on exit door (an exit door from the Arboretum, but the way we were going it was an entrance into the Arboretum) so we followed his directions and discovered the 10:45am Art Class, just like the wife had said. Apparently the 12 noon class had been overbooked, so the Art Teacher had set up a 10:45 class at short notice, hence no one else knew about it.

I left JE at his class and raced back to the hairdressers where the stylist was applying the finishing touches to Liz's hair, turning her into an even more ravishingly beautiful woman, and here you were thinking that was just not humanly possible :)

We then raced back to the Arboretum and arrived just as the class was winding up. Dropping the kids at the in-laws it was off to Santa Anita where Liz wanted to get her nails done (we had a wedding reception that evening, wedding was six months ago, reception was tonight). After lunch Liz went to the nail salon while I headed upstairs to Dave & Busters. Around 3pm Liz called me to say she was finished. I suspect she'd been shopping too, but I'd been shooting bad guys and collecting tickets for JE to turn in next time for a prize so I wasn't complaining.

We got home around 3:30 and Liz checked the Invite to discover the reception started at 4pm. Fortunately it was in Pasadena, not too far away, so after a very quick shower and shave (me) and dressing and make-up (both of us...except for the make-up) we were off. We made it to the reception shortly after 4pm, but no one is ever on time for these things. We hooked up with a couple of people from work (the girl who got married was a girl from work), had a little bit to drink (not too much, just enough, 4 or 5 Coronas ;) then headed into the dining room for the dinner.

What a great night. Good food, good friends, just enough alcohol, great conversation. 'Twas an awesome night.

Sunday morning I had a mild hangover, but nothing to worry about. I'd just finished my bowl of cereal when Liz got up and was dismayed to see that I'd eaten already. Apparently she'd wanted to have breakfast at some coffee shop she'd read about on someone's blog. Well the coffee shop is in Hollywood so it took a little while to get there, but not too long, about 20 minutes. Neither the food nor the service were anything to write home about. The coffee shop is located under a hotel. It's more of a Diner than a coffee shop, and not a very good Diner at that. It appears to service both the hotel's guests and neighborhood locals, not that that's a bad thing. I don't mind eating in Diners, I work in downtown, I've eaten in some places that you'd drive past with the doors locked and windows rolled up, but this was not a good Diner.

I expect top quality service in a Diner. I'm not talking 5-Star service, but Diners have legendary waiters. These are the waiters who are supposed to get customers seated, take their orders, get them their food, get them coffee refills right when they're needed most, then have the check sitting on the table as the customer mops up that last bit of egg yolk with the last bit of toast or biscuit. The service at this Diner was nothing like that. We seated ourselves and had our waiter tell us he'd be with us in a minute. He then brought us a glass of water (each) and the menus, then we never saw him for 10 minutes. Ok, that's not true. He walked right by our table many times carrying food for other customers but never stopped to take our order. I was seriously thinking of getting up and leaving when he finally stopped to take our order. We ordered our meals and two coffees; one coffee arrived. Liz & I both said we wanted two coffees. The waiter returned with a second coffee. Liz pointed out that she did not have a napkin or cutlery. He had to come back with those. These are little things that a good waiter should be looking out for. I downed my first cup of coffee in no time at all, then had to wait forever for a refill. Low points for that effort as well. Then the bill arrived. $20, for two breakfasts & coffees, at a diner in a run down neighborhood in a town that has a far greater reputation than what it deserves, but then nobody in "Hollywood" actually lives in Hollywood.

We left Hollywood for a better part of town, namely "The Grove". The difference is just a few blocks, ok, it's a little bit more than "a few blocks" but it's not too many more. Our breakfast Diner and The Grove are on the same Thomas Guide page, but they couldn't be in two more different areas if they tried. Ok, they could, stop making me contradict myself.

I think this was my third time at The Grove (maybe it's been more, trips have been few and far between) but if it is the third time, it means every time I've been to The Grove I've seen a star. The first time we saw one of the many Wayans brother (should Wayans be apostrophized? Is there even such a word as apostrophized?) and Nicholas Brendon (Buffy's Xander) on another trip. This time out we ran into Tom Lenk, (Buffy's Andrew) one of the evil trio who helps to make Buffy's last season particularly difficult for her. He was standing in the checkout behind us at The Gap. Man, is he short. No, really, he is. He's only 5'6". Danny Strong, who played Jonathan Levinson on Buffy, is only 5'2". No wonder Adam Busch, who played Warren (the third of the evil trio), who's not that tall at 5'8", seemed to tower over Jonathan.

After The Grove, Liz was in the mood for Vietnamese food; there's a Vietnamese noodle house we like to go to close to home but we hadn't been there for a while. I was still full from breakfast (and a milk shake I got at The Grove) so I talked Liz into going home where I finished relaying the floor boards that I'd had to pull up when we had the water leak all those months ago. I'd special ordered a couple of boxes of replacement boards a few months ago but when they arrived they were the wrong shade, so I had to return them and reorder new ones, after making sure we had the correct shade. It took a lot of work, cutting, shaping, fitting, etc, but I finally got the planks replaced, including laying wood down on the floor of entryway closet because I'd left it carpeted when I did the job the first time (much to Liz's chagrin).

After all that work I was ready to eat, so off we went to the Vietnamese restaurant where we ate dinner for cheaper than we'd had breakfast. In my opinion, the food and service was far superior, too. To go with our meal we each got a Vietnamese Iced Coffee, French-style, with condensed milk. OMG is that stuff gooooooood! :)

If we'd just drank water the meal would have been even cheaper still, but you can't have Vietnamese food without Vietnamese Iced Coffee. It just wouldn't be right.

The weekend was almost over by that time so home we went to chill out and relax, or relax until the in-laws dropped the kiddies back home, and then things were back to normal :)

Friday Five

It's all about computers!

1. What kind of computer do you have? (Mac, iBook, Dell, etc.)
A generic PC. It's got an Athlon XP 2600+ CPU, 1Gig of PC3200 DDR Ram, a Radeon 9600 256Mb video card, a DVD drive and a CD R/W drive. The only let down is my HDD. It's got a total of no more than 40Gig, of which I have just 6Gig free.

2. How old is it? Are you happy with it?
It's about 1 year old. After upgrading the Video Card and the Ram, I'm fairly happy with it. A bigger Hard Drive would be nice, or a dual-drive setup.

3. How many computers are in your household? (at home if you are away at school)
3 desktops and 1 laptop (plus all the bits in storage that Liz doesn't know about).

4. What are your favorite games/time wasters on your computer?
Absolutely no points for anyone who can guess (do you even need to guess) that my FTW is the life draining World of Warcraft.

5. If money were no object, what kind of computer would you like to have?

That would be this baby.