Bus Drivers

I love Public Transport, but I'm quickly growing to hate the Bus Drivers. When the Bus Drivers Union went on strike a couple of years ago and totally disrupted my commute, picketing & shutting down a local Hub, I actually didn't mind too much. For the couple of months that they were On Strike I got to ride for free, because the other privately owned bus line (which had a bus I could also ride into downtown) accepted October's Monthly Pass right through into January. Then, because I wanted the Hub reopened, and because it was Christmas, I had an idea to help settle the dispute, so I approached a group of picketers with my suggestion, which wouldn't have worked because of the way the MTA operated. I won't bore you with details of my plan, suffice to say that at that point in time I was keen to help the Drivers get back to work. Now, after witnessing how arrogant some of the drivers can be, I won't be as inclined in the future to help them out if presented with the opportunity.

The Driver I rode home with today is one such jerk. This guy will not wait for you if you're not at the Stop when he pulls up, unlike the prick (did I just say that?) who I talked about the other week who won't stop even if you are waiting.

A few weeks ago I ran to catch the bus driven by today's Driver, and I got to the stop, which was at the other side of a signal controlled Pedestrian crossing, just seconds after the last passenger boarded. Now I thought I was good because Pedestrians were in the Crosswalk, so the Driver faced a flashing yellow, which in Los Angeles means stop and yield to all Peds in the Crosswalk. But just as I got to the Stop and waved to the Driver, he pulled away from the curb, veered sharply across two lanes, and accelerated his bus through the Crosswalk narrowly missing a couple of Peds.

So it wasn't really a surprise to me today when a guy running to catch my Bus, being driven by the same Driver, was unsuccesful. As the Driver pulled away from the curb the guy, running next to the bus, began smacking the window. He even followed the bus out into the street smacking the window the whole time. Needless to say the Driver didn't stop, and I couldn't blame him. The MTA ran a campaign a while back (and you'll still see some posters up in some buses) about not running to catch the buses, so the Driver is only following a Company directive.

Then, at the next intersection, a guy standing in the middle of the road (divided thoroughfare with him standing on the concrete median strip) waved to our bus as we turned left in front of him (we had a left-turn signal). There's a Stop immediately after our left-turn and the Ped in the middle of the road probably figured the Driver would wait for him; some Drivers will, they have for me in the past. No prizes for guessing that today's Driver pulled up at the Stop, and when nobody got on or off, promptly drove away with the Ped watching thinking "Prick!" or something equally rude.

I'm sure the Drivers have to deal with rude, arrogant passengers as well, so that most likely affects their attitude, and then their attitude affects us and our day, and it's a vicious circle.

I've now reminded myself of the lady at JE's school who I've dubbed the Parking Nazi, kind of like Seinfeld's Soup Nazi. Like the Bus Drivers, this is a lady with a position of authority (or who at least wields some power) who's let her position go to her head. Like the Bus Drivers, in her defense, I'm sure she deals with rude, arrogant parents every single day as she tries to do her job, with the end result being that this woman is now just a bitch, or a Parking Nazi, (which I'll shorten to PN for short and to avoid offending people)

The PN's job is to ensure that at both the beginning and end of the school day the kids are dropped off and picked up as fast, efficiently, and as safe as possible, and that cars remain on school grounds for as little time as possible.

My first run in with the PN was one afternoon when my wife and I arrived a little early to pick up JE. Liz pulled into the school's Driveway and because the signs on the road state to do so, she pulled all the way forward to the end of the drive. It being a rather warm afternoon I got Amber out of the car and walked towards JE's classroom. The PN came storming up and was almost yelling when she told me that I couldn't leave the car. Misunderstanding her statement, thinking she meant I couldn't even get out of the car, I told her I wasn't going to sit in the hot car with my baby daughter for 10 minutes. So the PN started on about how the cars couldn't be left unattended, etc. When I told her my wife was still in the car she shut up and went prowling for more vulnerable prey.

Yesterday I dropped Liz and JE at school because JE had a Field Trip and Liz was going along to help out, as some parents do. I had to take A. for her 18-month checkup (which went great, thanks for asking) so I needed the car for the morning. At 11:25am, as I left the doctor's office and headed towards the school, I called Liz to tell her I was on my way. Liz told me not to hurry, they wouldn't be back until noon, so I stopped and got some lunch for A. then continued on to the school, where I pulled foward, past several other cars, and parked at the very front of the Driveway. I got A. and her lunch out, and went and sat on the seats near JE's classroom. Around noon a School Bus pulled up, but JE & Liz didn't get out; it wasn't their bus. Already late, a lot of the parents were now really freaking out that their kids didn't get off this Bus.

It was about then that the PN came around, asking who were the owners of the four cars parked in the Driveway. She didn't ask me but spoke to a group of Chinese ladies nearby (most of the kids in JE's school are Chinese, so their parents are naturally Chinese as well ;). I overheard her asking if they owned any of the cars, and her tone was not pleasant at all. I'm sure dealing with arrogant Chinese parents (I'm allowed to say that, my wife and in-laws are all Chinese) has forced the PN to adopt her "Screw You, I'm Right!" demeanor. Not to generalize but while the Chinese may not have coined the phrase "Easier to apologize afterwards than ask permission first" they sure seem to have adopted it as their personal motto. Damn, I'm really sticking it to a lot of people in this Rant, aren't I :D

So the PN comes around, all swaggering and arrogant, demanding to know who owns the cars which are sitting empty in the Driveway (and blocking the Buses), and although nobody speaks up, one by one the cars are driven away and parked elsewhere (including that of yours truly, heh heh heh ;). Except for two cars, naturally the most inconveniently parked two, which remain there for another half an hour, making it very hard for the driver of Liz & JE's bus when it finally arrives almost an hour behind schedule to pull up to the curb. A guy gets off the bus and, just like the PN, starts yelling, demanding to know who owns the car blocking bus. Although the owner must be there among the parents, naturally nobody owns up. Liz and I left before we got to see who the owners of the cars were. I'm sure they got chewed out when they finally went to get in their car, assuming the teachers stuck around to find out who they were.

Well, that was a little long, I hope it was as amusing for you to read as it was cathartic for me to write :D

Public Service Announcement

This is a public service announcement to Parents everywhere.

Stay away from Kids Island.

The wife had thought about holding our son's birthday party there but it seemed a little expensive. I figured everywhere is going to be expensive but she sent me that link above so I checked it out, and she's right...although she's not right enough (forget I said that).

They're not only expensive, they're a rip off.

A 15-kid party costs $385. Simple math tells you that's $25/kid, although each additional kid is just $15.

So what do you get for your $25/kid?

You get access to Kids Island for 2 hours (well I would hope so, this is a party after all).
You get a bouncy castle for the kids to bounce around in for 2 hours.
You get a host to keep an eye on the kids bouncing around for 2 hours.
You get a gift bag...for the birthday child.
Gift bags for the other kids cost $3.50, each, but you better spring for the deluxe gift bag at $6/kid if you don't want to look cheap. 15 kids is another $50 or so for gift bags.

You do get face painting or temporary tattoos, but tips are appreciated (on top of your $385) coz Kids Island obviously don't pay their staff enough.
You also get party decorations (for your party, go figure) and 15 party balloons, and invitations, and paper plates, cups, napkins, etc.
You get the use of their serving utensils, pizza cutter, cake knife, servings spoons, etc.
The selection of party food is quite extensive though, just make sure you pick it up from the store of your choice before hand, because you don't get any food for your $385.

So for $385 you get a bouncy castle for 2 hours, face painting and tattoos, and a host. Make sure you tip the host, too, because that $385 does not include a gratuity.

Last year (or maybe the year before) Liz and I arranged a get together for a bunch of her relatives at our local Dave & Busters. I seem to recall it costing us around $500. That included food & drinks for everyone, D&B Funcards for the kids...and I could be wrong but I thought that also included a tip.

Am I being cheap? Am I expecting too much for my $385? They're charging $25/kid and NOT feeding them! I'm sorry but if I pay you almost $400 to host a party for my kid and his friends I expect you to feed them as well. I can understand having to provide the cake myself, but at $25/head I expect a meal as well. I'm pretty sure I can do Chuck E. Cheese for less than that, and at least they know how to do a kid's party right.

So we joined the gym yesterday, and afterwards Liz commented about the ladies showers in the ladies locker rooms not affording much privacy. Now this is a funny thing I've noticed (not personally...ok, sometimes witnessed first hand) about one big difference between men and women, specifically locker rooms/change rooms.

Pretty much everywhere I've gone (the country is irrelevant) if you're a guy taking a shower after gym (or where ever) you're going to be showering next to another guy (or you could be) because next to you on the wall will be another shower head.

Women, on the other hand (except in prison) have private shower stalls, in some cases they even have private changing rooms.

Is this related to mens' bathrooms forcing guys to stand next to each other while peeing? Are men just more comfortable with being naked in each other's presence? Or is this something more sinister? Is this actually a plot to keep women down?

Think about it for a second. There's this image of an ideal woman stuffed down our throats at every turn, so women buy all these beauty products, undergo plastic surgery, spend a small fortune on clothes, etc, all in the pursuit of endeavoring to look like the "perfect woman".

Now what if women knew that was a lie? What if they woke up to the fact that there is not only no perfect woman, but that they themselves are in fact...NORMAL!!!

Imagine a woman standing naked in a room with several other naked women...uh oh...cold shower time...ok, I'm over that...so you have these women, showering after gym, or where ever, and they're all standing next to each other showering just like guys do, and of course they notice, like guys do, that there is no perfect body. That all of these other women are really not much different from them. They all have a little cellulite, or slightly chunky thighs, or butts that are not tiny and practically non-existant. Translation, they all look like real women.

What's going to happen?

The fashion world will crash and burn. Makeup companies will go bankrupt. Clothing companies will go out of business. Ok, maybe that's over reacting a little...but isn't that how women tend to react when they look in a mirror?

I leave you with these funny pictures, which are not quite that funny when you realize how accurate they are. Now this is not to say men live in a fantasy world, because both pictures are extreme examples, but I believe they are still fairly accurate depictions of the way men and women see themselves. Sad but true.

Eights years, like it was a day

Tomorrow Liz and I will have been married eight years. I must be doing something right ;)

Yesterday we had an anniversary brunch at the Queen Mary, just the two of us. I tried to talk Liz into doing the Ghost Tour afterwards but she wouldn't have anything to do with that. She decided to join a gym instead. So we stopped at a local 24-Hour Fitness, got the tour, and were talking with the guy about what packages Liz would be interested, when the guy asked if I was interested in joining as well. One thing led to another, waiving of associating fees if I signed up, etc...and the next thing I know I've joined the gym as well.

We decided Liz could hit the local gym where we'd signed up. She'll either drop both kids with her parents after picking JE up from school then go to the gym, or alternatively the gym has a daycare center where for $1/hr you can leave your kids while you work out.

There is a 24-Hour Fitness Gym just a couple of blocks from my office, and because our membership gives us access to all 24-Hour Fitness Gyms we figured I could hit that gym before work.

Because my knees are messed up from various stupid things I did in my youth (and in my not-so-youth) I figured I'd work out on the zero impact ski-machine. I could burn calories and lose weight without constantly jarring my knees.

So this morning I exercised for the first time in a while and boy are my legs sore.

With the elevators in my building "Out Of Order" I'm glad I didn't go to the gym before work or I would never have made it up those thirteen flights of stairs to my office.

Why I hate "competitive" children's sports...

because someone always takes things too damn far.

I just read an article in Sports Illustrated about a Tee-ball little league team. Tee-ball is like baseball but for younger kids, who hit a stationary baseball off a waist high tee instead of facing down a pitcher.

On one Tee-ball team in particular was an 8-year old autistic boy, who I'll call Freddy (not his real name, and if you like stories with happy endings stop reading here) and Freddy's team had made it into the Tee-ball playoffs for their league.

Tee-ball has a participatory rule which states that every player who shows up must be allowed to bat in at least three innings.

Freddy's coach was a little concerned about this rule and Freddy causing his team to lose the playoffs, so he asked everyone on the team not to tell Freddy about the upcoming game;

Freddy's mom found out and turned up anyway.

Coach couldn't ask Freddy's mom to keep him out of the game, that wouldn't be right, but it was apparently ok for Coach to pair up Freddy with Reggy (not his real name), one of the hardest pitchers on their team, for a warm-up session immediately before the game.

Coach was also ok with offering Reggie $25 to take Freddy out, and I don't mean for pizza and a movie.

Reggie's first pitch hit the 8-year old Freddy in the groin, sending him in tears to his mother. When Freddy's mom encouraged him to get back in and keep playing, Coach approached Reggie and told him to hit Freddy even harder.

Reggie's next pitch hit Freddy in the side of the head, drawing blood. Coach then approached Freddy and told him the balls must be after him that day and perhaps he should sit out the game. Freddy refused to play and his team won.

Coach never paid Reggie his $25 and claims he never made such an offer. Reggie's father says he did.

So you have a little league Coach willing to bribe one of his young players to seriously injure a slightly disabled team mate just to win a game.

Now I said this story doesn't have a happy ending, but that's only because the court case against Coach hasn't yet been decided. Charged with aggravated assault, conspiring to cause injury, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and a few other things, Coach insists he's done nothing wrong and his attorney claims he's being vilified.

And we have people like this acting as role models to our children. Then again the Major League players, Coach's role models, take steroids and other illegal performance enhancement drugs just to win games, and then they lie about it, even in court. MLB should offer Coach a contract, it seems he'd fit right in.

I found an update on ESPN's website.

Cats

Yesterday we made it to church just in time to drop the kids in Sunday School and catch the last 3/4 of the service, then it was off to Hollywood to meet up with Xinh and see the musical play, Cats, at The Pantages.

Immediately following Church we grabbed lunch (or breakfast) for Liz who hadn't eaten before church, and then we put L.A.'s quasi-Public Transport system to the test, by riding the Gold Line from Pasadena into Union Station in downtown L.A., then transferring to the Red Line and out to Hollywood. The Gold Line took almost 40 minutes to get us to Union Station and it was around 12:20pm by the time we got to the Red Line's platform. A few minutes later the Red Line pulled in and it was our train (the Red Line has two Final Destinations) so we boarded and a few minutes later it pulled back out and we were off.

We made it with about 15 minutes to spare, but Liz needed a Bio Break before we took our seats, and of course there was a line. Now Theatres usually close their doors right on time and refuse to allow late comers admittance, but Liz decided to risk it anyway. She lucked out, did what she needed to, and we took our seats with a few minutes to spare. The show started, and for the next 25 minutes people were shown to their seats by the ushers, which we though was very rude and disruptive to both audience and cast. Whatever happened to 1pm meaning 1pm? It's generally understood among theatre goers that if you're late to a show, you wait in the lobby until the interval, but apparently not anymore. There was even a note in the Playbill that Management reserves the right to seat latecomers if they so choose. What a cop out.

Sight of the day would have to be the demon who boarded the Red Line a couple of stops before we got off. He had the wings, the horns, a big red scythe...a little chainmail cod piece. He had the lot. Very impressive. Sorry, we didn't have our camera so no pictures, coz he was cool.

So far

This morning we joined my mate, his wife and daughter for an Easter Egg Hunt at a local park, sponsored by the city. We got there a few minutes late and as JE and I walked into the area where the Hunt was located we passed several kids & their parents leaving with baskets FULL of eggs. No surprise when we met up with Spyfor & Co. (who had arrived early) and found out the Hunt was over barely 30 seconds after it had started.

Spyfor said the organizers had announced that it was ok for parents to accompany their kiddies into the Egg Hunt Area, but the parents that went in decided to interpret this to mean "Parents, grab as many eggs as you can." Spyfor's little girl managed to secure 4 eggs, but she gave 1 to a little girl who hadn't got any, then she gave JE another when we met up with them.

We decided to visit the play area/jungle gym in the park, which oddly enough was full of kids, none of who wanted to share the one-kiddie only equipment, like swings, etc. Spyfor's wife is interested in enrolling their daughter in the tennis class at the park so we went and talked to the people in the office about tennis classes, watched a bit of the kids playing tennis, then decided to go back to Spyfor's place for refreshments.

Nibbles was corn chips, a delightfully wickedly spicy salsa, and beer and wine.

While we ate and drank and chatted away and enjoyed each others' company, JE and Spyfor's little girl spent their afternoon alternating between bouncing on the mini-trampoline and eating/drinking chocolate milk & cheetos. No, nobody threw up. Yeah, surprised me, too :D

Tomorrow we hopefully leave our little ones with the in-laws and head to Hollywood to see Cats with Xinh. I say hopefully because the FIL has gone to the hospital with abdominal pains and suspected appendicitis. Let's hope he's ok, and not just so we don't waste our Cats tickets.

* EDIT *

Turns out the FIL has nasty kidney stones, so it's not appendicitis, so we'll still be dropping the little ones with the MIL and catching Cats this afternoon. Yay! For both the FIL not having appendicitis and for going to see Cats, I'm a kitty cat, and I dance, dance, dance, and I dance, dance, dance.

Local Gas Prices

Head on over here, enter your Zip Code, and you'll get a map of your area showing local gas station locations. Beneath the map will be a table showing the gas prices at each location.

These are the prices as reported from the night before, and stations tend to change their prices at 3am or 4am, so they may not be exactly the same when you head out this morning but they should still be close.

Very useful for finding the cheapest gas in your area.

Fucking Arrogant Bus Driver

This morning we (couple of fellow commuters and I) flag down the second bus of our commute, the very same bus we flag down almost every morning for the last leg (7 blocks) of our ride to work. We're above the actual bus stop (with covered shelter) and there are no buses so the bus drives past us (and past the bus shelter) and pulls up to a stop at the corner. We arrive at the door as several passengers are getting off, so I do the right thing and stand next to the door and let the passengers get off first.

As soon as the last passenger gets off I move towards the door. I reach for the handrail inside the bus and am about to step off the curb WHEN THE DOOR SLAMS CLOSED, ALMOST CATCHING MY HAND, AND FUCKING BUS DRIVER REVS THE HELL OUT OF THE ENGINE AS HE RUNS THE YELLOW LIGHT leaving us, metaphorically, in a cloud of dust.

I kid you not, as the door closed I had to pull my hand back, and the doors still brushed my knuckles.

I hate arrogant bus drivers.

Owned!!!

This cute little fellow is also an Australian. He's called a Huntsman, and just like me, he's good at turning up in the strangest places.



















Liz and I attended a friend's wedding when we were in Australia several years ago and on our drive back home late at night I saw a shadow run across the window of my car, and I knew immediately that it was one of these little guys. So I reached down and made sure my window was wound up, then reached behind me and made sure the back window was wound up, too.

Liz asked what I was doing. I told her there was a Huntsman spider on the car and asked her to make sure her windows were wound up as well. Liz had never seen a Hunstman before, had no idea what they were (other than a spider, as I'd just said) but she humored me and made sure her side windows were wound up, too.

Then she grabbed my leg and I almost ran the car off the road.

Liz thought it was hilarious and said the spider must have come off by now, after all, we're doing 65mph.

With perfect timing the Huntsman chose that moment to run across Liz's window.

Liz didn't think that was quite so funny.

Japanese Raft Game

This is a puzzle/game where you need to get everyone across to the other side, obeying these simple rules.
Only the father, mother, and policeman can operate the raft.
The mother cannot be left with any of the sons IF the father is not present.
The father cannot be left with any of the daughters IF the mother is not present.
The criminal cannot be left with any family member IF the policeman is not present.

When the instruction page loads, click the Big Blue Circle in the bottom right corner of the page to start the game.

Now go and have fun.

Ganked from Xinh

Ruprick People Iced: Twenty-five Car Bombs Planted: Twenty-five Favorite Weapon Shank Arms Broken: One Eyes Gouged: Fifteen Tongues Cut Off: Eight Biggest Enemy: Prickly Pear Get Your HITMAN Name

That I've planted twenty-five car bombs, and iced twenty-five people, would seem to imply that my favorite weapon is not the shank but the car bomb...hmmm?

A trip to Ikea

Liz has been complaining all week (& longer) about her computer desk. The problem is she has a computer desk (one of those little study desk things you get for $50 in Ikea or Target) but she uses her computer to do practically everything, so surrounding her computer are a ton of papers for various things she's working on. Or at least they should be on her desk but now that A. is walking she can reach Liz's desk and pull everything down, which she does, and Liz pulls her hair out.

So middle of the afternoon yesterday Liz decides she wants to go to Ikea to look at desks, and we find this monstrosity:



for just $130, which is a pretty good price for that much desk. The thing is 48"x48" and stands almost 5'6" tall. The top of the desk, the work area, is all one piece of wood, well one fabricated piece, it's not solid lumber. That meant the box it came in was 50"x50". That meant it wouldn't fit in our little car. We could have had it delivered for $50 but Liz didn't want to pay for delivery, plus it meant she'd need to coordinate times with the delivery people, then tip them when they drop the desk off, etc., so no delivery.

Fortunately Ikea have cord, copious amounts of cord, in their parking lots, so I tied this large 50"x50" box up until it looked like a huge cheaply wrapped Christmas present. All of that cord around the box meant I had something to tie more cord to when I tied the box to the top of our car. With the windows down cord went through the back seat, then Liz got in the car and closed her door and I finished tying the box down, with cord through the front door windows. Then I slid into the car a la Bo & Luke Duke and we were on our way home.

We got home around 5pm, cleared out the living room, moved Liz's old desk into the corner where JE's computer goes, hooked his computer back up, then commenced putting Liz's desk together. Around 10 o'clock that night I'd finally finished putting it together, had Liz's computer hooked up, the cable modem, router, and printer hooked up, everything working, and that was it for my Sunday. I crawled into bed exhausted and ready for sleep, and rolled over, and tossed, and turned, and I think I finally got to sleep around midnight.

This morning (the second morning of Daylight Saving Time) I hit the button for my alarm and turned it off. At 4:50 when snooze hadn't gone off I realized what I'd done and thought, "Screw it, I'm sleeping in for a while. I'll be late for work but I'll just work back tonight."

At 5:40 JE came into our room, waking me up. I had a quick shower & shave, caught the 6:10 bus and made it to work just 30 minutes late. So I got almost an extra hour in bed and only have to work back 30 minutes. That's a trade I'll gladly accept :D

To top it off, this is Spring Break Week, and I'm taking Wednesday & Thursday off (Friday is my RDO, so I'm already almost halfway through this week :D

Paying it forward

Yesterday I had an audit up in Lancaster, a 150-mile round trip from downtown Los Angeles. I checked out a car and had stopped at a light just a few blocks from work when a lady in a van waved at me. Not in a "Hi, how are you?" wave, but an "I need to talk to you" wave.

Whenever I'm in a City car, with City seal on the door, I always feel compelled to help people if they wave me down, so I wound down my window and the lady informs me that my trunk is open. I wonder how she can have seen that from where she is but I look down, and sure enough, the ol' barn door is wide open.

I'm kidding :D

I thank the lady, the light turns green and I pull over to the side of the road, and sure enough, the ol' trunk is open a little bit. Now it may not have been a problem on my drive, but who knows. At some point during the next 150 miles the trunk could have popped all the way open and then where would I have been? Halfway between LA & BFE, in the rain, with an open trunk, that's where.

So today at the Post Office a chinese lady approaches me in the parking lot and says "massage-ee?"

Wait, that wasn't this morning, that was in our hotel in Shanghai a few years ago.

Nah, this morning the lady is looking for a certain street, and I happen to have a Thomas Guide (map book to L.A. County) in the car, so I find her street (a few blocks away) and help her on her merry way.

Life is made better by random acts of kindness.

You know you're a parent...

when you change a dirty diaper and as you're throwing it in the trash you see the left over chocolate mudpie cake on the bench...and you promptly eat it...and the odor of dirty diaper wafting up from the trash doesn't faze you at all as you scoop up the last bit of chocolate mousse.

That, my friends, is hardcore.

Forgotten Friday Five

1) Of the various cultures, ethnicities or nationalities you belong to, which most strongly do you consider yourself?
Most likely Australian, although the longer I live here, the more "American" I'm becoming. On vacation in China I even caught myself being the Arrogant American at a Starbucks (yes, they have Starbucks in China) when they didn't make my Frapuccino the right way.

2) Is there a culture you cannot claim heritage from but which you feel quite close to?
That would be Chinese.

3) What’s one language you wish you knew fluently?
I'd like to know Shanghainese so I know what the in-laws all talk about, although I'm getting pretty good at reading their body language and knowing where the conversation is going. Living in Southern California, I'm probably better off being fluent in Espanol.

4) If you could move anywhere in the world and be guaranteed a job, etc., where would you go?
I assume we're talking about a well paying job where I never need to worry about financial problems, because I could go anywhere and get a job...just it may not pay the bills ;) It's got to be Sydney, Australia then.

5a) If you had a time machine, and could witness any one event without altering or disturbing it, what would you want to see?
The building of the pyramids.

5b) What’s the one place where you wouldn’t want to go, even if the opportunity presented itself?
I don't think I'd want to go to the Middle East.

The Guerrero family

JE wanted to play Wrestling on the N64 this morning, so we broke out the classic WCW/NWO Revenge and played Handicap matches; him & me vs a PC opponent. For one match JE chose Chavo Guerrero Jr. as our opponent, and the character came out wearing a t-shirt his real life counterpart had been forced to wear after losing a fued with his wrestling uncle, Eddie Guerreo.

The t-shirt Eddie made Chavo wear stated "Eddie Guerrero is my favorite wrestler". This was a sore point for Chavo, not the least because Chavo's father, Chavo Guerrero Sr., was also a national wrestling icon with the Lucha Libre.

I'd forgotten all about the t-shirt, and how big of a deal it was at the time, and how much it upset Chavo to have to wear it. I'm sure the t-shirt holds a special place in Chavo's heart now though, what with his Uncle Eddie passing away last year.

Oct. 9, 1967 - Nov. 13, 2005

Saddest toy/commercial in the world

I just watched the commercial for a toy called the Batmobile Exp or something like that. An Action Figure Batman has been captured by the Joker (another Action Figure) and is suspended upside down over a tin of "something", when the Batmobile crashes in to save the day by firing a small yellow Bat Disc at the tin of "something". The disc hits the tin and you see a hand (a real hand) push the tin over. The Joker then flees to the top of a pyramid of tins, so the Batmobile fires another Bat Disc at the pyramid of tins...and another (real) hand comes in and pushes the pyramid over.

At least the commercial is being truthful, I guess.

This is Teh Sexxorz

Or however that's supposed to be spelled (spelt).

This is the sexiest woman in the world. Oh, you're free to disagree with me of course, but you'd be wrong, because Jennifer Connelly is, without a doubt, the sexiest woman in the world...except for my wife of course (phew, good save!).

Black & White

This is bizarre.

Mouse over each of the people on that page. It's pretty freaky.

I like this

HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Well, I thought it was funny :)

Ok, so maybe I'm a little permissive ;)

Don't get me wrong, I'm a disciplinarian...I just get undermined by those around me, in-laws, etc.

But I also want my kids to enjoy life, to enjoy their time as kids. Life is tough enough as it is, when you're an adult, you accept that you won't get everything you want, but kids have a hard time dealing with that.

We hit the Santa Anita Mall today after picking up JE from school. This Mall is one of our favourite places, and it's not because we love shopping. It's because when Santa Anita expanded they added on a Dave & Busters. For the last year or so JE and I have spent some good quality time there, playing the games, winning some prizes, etc. Technically you earn prizes by redeeming tickets, you don't really win them, but that's a technicality we don't need to address here. JE likes Chuck E. Cheese; Liz & I don't. The pizza sucks, the games suck, the prizes suck, but the kids love it. D&B on the other hand has awesome games and the bestest prizes in the whole entire world! You can't "win" an X-Box 360 at Chuck E. Cheese, but if you're dedicated to the cause you sure can get one from D&Bs.

So we've been spending our time and money and saving our tickets (you convert them to credits which get saved to your D&B game card) and saving our tickets, and saving our tickets...then the X-Box 360 came out (we were saving up for an X-Box) and the redemption price jumped from 35,000 credits to 80,000. 35,000 seemed achievable, given that after several months of playing, which included getting JE some decent prizes, we'd accrued 15,000+ credits. 80,000 credits was a number we couldn't even comprehend. But we kept playing over the months and getting JE small prizes, and saving our credits, and I knew I had close to 20,000 today when we entered the prize area and saw a 10:1 scale, radio controlled version of Michael Schumacher's Formula 1 Ferrari.

JE and I ooh'd and ahh'd over it as we handed the cashier my game cards. He scanned them (I have 3) and tallied up the credits, and we were 800 short. So I put the car back and we got JE a snapping monkey on a stick for just 50 credits. That's another reason I love D&Bs, you get cool prizes for just a few credits. At CEC you spend a small fortune then get a cheap plastic car (like a Hotwheels car, but cheap) that falls apart almost before you get out to your real car.

As we were heading outside I looked down at JE and I could tell right away, without even seeing his face, that he was heartbroken, devestated. He'd wanted the Ferrari, and it had looked like Dad was getting it for him, and we'd left the store and all he had was a snapping monkey on a stick.

Side story: when I was just a wee, young lad, barely knee high to a grasshopper (and no, I don't mean David Carradine) my Dad was a Scout Master, and he took our family to a Jamboree. That's where thousands of Scouts from not just all over Australia but all over the world gather together and mess around and have a great old time, camping out, hiking, swimming, etc.

Now at this particular Jamboree there was a Scout Shop where you could buy all sorts of Scout-related things; Badges, belt buckles, books, knives, etc. One of the books was a graphic novel about Sir Robert Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scout movement. I was in there with a couple of the other Scout leaders' kids (all of us still too young to be Scouts) and they were buying some badges while I read this book, and I was enthralled with Baden-Powell's adventures in Africa during the time of the Boer War. But I didn't have any money with me at the time so I left empty handed. In the manner of young boys the world over I vowed to return before the Jamboree was over, with some money, and buy that book. But in the manner of young boys the world over I forgot all about it and spent the last few days of the Jamboree just messing around with my friends.

It was only on the last day that I remembered the book, so I got some money from my Mum and headed off to the Scout Store...but I'd left it too late. When I got to the camp site where the Scout Store had been set up it was empty; the Scout Store tent was gone. The owner had packed up his inventory and headed back to the Big City and his brick & stone store, taking, quite naturally, my Baden-Powell book with him. Words cannot describe how heartbroken I was that day but I remember walking back to our camp, head down, sobbing quietly to myself as I plodded along.

And that was how my father found me. I'm sure the sight of me in that state affected my father that day much as it did me today when I looked down at my son. I don't remember seeing Dad that day. I didn't even know he was there until he picked me up and asked me what was wrong.

The wheel turns, and I looked down at my son and told him that we could get the car next time. He never said a thing, he just kept walking, but I could see the tears had already started to flow. So I took his hand and we walked back to the prize area and I asked the cashier if we could make up the credit difference in cash. We couldn't. But I still had game credits on my card (as opposed to prize credits. Game credits allow you to play the games, prize credits are redeemed for prizes). Now it was almost right on 1pm by this time and Liz and I had agreed that we'd meet at 1pm to head home...but I was committed now to winning the car for my son and we only needed 800 tickets which I knew wouldn't take long to accrue. It didn't take long. In about 15 minutes we were leaving D&Bs with the car tucked under my arm and a happy son snapping his snapping monkey on a stick walking beside me.

I got told off a little bit by Liz when I met her outside the D&Bs, but she understood when I explained that we had not been able to leave without the car. And now she understands even more why she had to wait for us today.

Of course when we got home we still had to put the car together, and the battery needed to be charged, and JE is not the most patient of young men (anyone know any 5-year olds that are patient?), so he played outside for a bit, blowing bubbles, and quickly grew bored, and found a new game in the garage, and when Liz came down he made her get it out for him and begin setting it up, and he lost patience when she took too long to put everything together. A ton of little plastic men, and two dragons, and scenery, etc. can take a fair bit of assembling. Finally, almost 1 1/2 hours after I'd opened the box, I had the Ferrari assembled. In my defense a lot of that time was spent sticking the 12 stickers onto Schuey's helmet just so. I'm a little anal when it comes to putting stickers on things. They have to go exactly where they're meant to be or I'll spend hours removing them, adjusting them, replacing them, etc. You should see me in McD's with their toys when they only have 3 or 4 stickers that need applying. Liz and the kids will have finished eating by the time I finally get those 4 stickers on the toy exactly where they're meant to be.

Now the instruction manual recommended charging the battery for 4 to 5 hours. And it said it came from the factory with no charge. But I'd just spent 90 minutes putting stickers on this car, then putting the whole thing together. I'm as impatient as my son sometimes so the battery came off the charger, went into the car, and a quick test showed us that we had power!!! So it was out to the driveway where we raced the car up and down until the battery was flat again.

This is not a cheap radio controlled car. I just did a web search, and I would not have bought this thing for JE if I'd had to pay real money for it. Sure, I spent money at D&Bs earning tickets & credits to redeem for the car, but that's different, that was money spent on quality time with my son. The RRP for this car when Nikko first released it was $200. They're selling now for around $140 to $150. Out in the driveway for our complex, a nice long driveway, we got this car up to speed and it moves! Nikko have clocked it at 40kph, or 25mph for you Imperialists, and I don't think they exaggerated. I also don't think we should be driving it in the long driveway. Not because I'm concerned about a car coming, we can see the garage doors as they open, but because there's enough room for the car to turn around and that's pretty much it. At 40kph the car travels from one end of the complex to the other within seconds and it travels from one side of the driveway to the other in a heartbeat. At top speed it is all too easy to slam the car into the kerb on one side of the driveway or a garage door on the other. It's a lot of fun to drive the car at top speed but I'm not sure how strong it is. I doubt it's built to withstand repeating ramming of solid objects at 40kph. It is good, however, for JE to develop very fine motor skills, because the controller is digital, meaning you squeeze the trigger a little bit and the car travels at a moderate speed. Squeeze the trigger a little more and it works essentially the same as the accelerator pedal in your car; the more you depress it, the faster your car goes. Turn the tyre shaped steering wheel on the car's controller a little bit, and the car turns just a little bit, naturally turning sharper the more you turn the wheel, just like a real car.

This is not a cheap toy. It's not an X-Box 360 but it's still a hell of a lot of fun. We just need to find a nice, wide open area for us to drive the car around without worrying about running into other objects, people, cars, etc., and without acquiring a small group of kiddies looking on, as usually happens when one drives really fast radio control cars in public places. The kids looking on is not the problem. It's the kid on the bike who thinks it's fun, especially when encouraged by his friends, to attempt to race the car, or even drive around it as you drive around, and inevitably he's going to run over the car, breaking it, then he'll just ride off, leaving you with $150 worth of trash.

I don't want that to happen so for now, we'll settle for just carefully driving around in the driveway :)

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On a completely unrelated topic, I have begun waging war on the snails in the fish tank. Originally there was just one snail that hitchhiked in on the plant, and he/she/it grew bit by bit as the weeks passed from a small snail that I thought was a bit of crud, into the small snail that I looked for around the tank and was glad he was there because he was eating the algae that grew on the inside of the glass and helped keep the tank clean.

Then a while back we noticed a tiny snail crawling along, by coincidence, behind the first snail. Then there were several small snails, all around the tank...and that was when I noticed the big snail (well, still small for a snail, but bigger than all the rest, the original snail, if you will) chowing down on the leaves of the plant. I'd noticed the plant looking a little ratty lately, with several of the leaves no longer leaf shaped but just a web/vein structure. Now I'd caught the culprit red...well...not red-handed per se...kind of hard to catch something red-handed when it doesn't have hands, but he was guilty nonetheless. Maybe he was keeping the algae levels down, but if he was also eating the hell out of the plant, and if he was having baby snails (don't ask me how a single snail managed to have children, I don't know...maybe he adopted) if he was having baby snails that would also eat the hell out of the plant, well, keeping the algae down was something I could do myself so the snails were going to have to go. Yesterday I disposed of the big snail and several smaller snails. Today, I nailed four more snails (heh, nailing snails ;). I'm gonna keep an eye on the tank and every time a snail pops up, he's getting squished. And to think I'd found an eco-friendly way of keeping the algae levels down, too. Well, I'm part of the ecosystem, so if I have to clean the tank myself, that's still eco-friendly. So there. Take that, baby snail!

I am a Nine (out of Ten?)

Ganked from Loki. I pretty much agree with all of this, except for the very last statement under Parenting.

The Peacemaker (Blessed are the Cheesemakers) You are BX Enneagram type NINE

"I am at peace" Peacemakers are receptive, good-natured, and supportive. They seek union with others and the world around them. How to Get Along with Me If you want me to do something, how you ask is important. I especially don't like expectations or pressure. I like to listen and to be of service, but don't take advatage of this. Listen until I finish speaking, even though I meander a bit. Give me time to finish things and make decisions. It's OK to nudge me gently and nonjudgmentally. Ask me questions to help me get clear. Tell me when you like how I look. I'm not averse to flattery. Hug me, show physical affection. It opens me up to my feelings. I like a good discussion but not a confrontation. Let me know you like what I've done or said. Laugh with me and share in my enjoyment of life. What I Like About Being a Nine being nonjudgmental and accepting caring for and being concerned about others being able to relax and have a good time knowing that most people enjoy my company; I'm easy to be around my ability to see many different sides of an issue and to be a good mediator and facilitator my heightened awareness of sensations, aesthetics, and the here and now being able to go with the flow and feel one with the universe What's Hard About Being a Nine being judged and misunderstood for being placid and/or indecisive being critical of myself for lacking initiative and discipline being too sensitive to criticism; taking every raised eyebrow and twitch of the mouth personally being confused about what I really want caring too much about what others will think of me not being listened to or taken seriously Nines as Children Often feel ignored and that their wants, opinions, and feelings are unimportant tune out a lot, especially when others argue are "good" children: deny anger or keep it to themselves Nines as Parents are supportive, kind, and warm are sometimes overly permissive or nondirective

My Haiku Smackdown entry

Blatantly ganked from Eccythump!
For Xinher's Haiku Smackdown #42

Two nights in a row

Not the same dream (although I have had dreams repeat themselves, feelings of deja vu when dreaming are common) but a dream in a similar vein.

I was staying in a cabin in the forest with several other families and two nights in a row (yes, time passed in this dream) a pack of wild dogs slipped into the cabin and dragged away some small children (maybe a dingo ate your bay-bee).

I took my dog for a walk yesterday and a couple of the houses we passed have pitbull-variety dogs in the yards so this could have influenced last nights dream.

So we devised a plan (which wasn't much of a plan) to wait for the dogs and kill them when they attacked...but it was pointed out by my brother-in-law (who was in the dream) that the dogs just dragged away the small children so we wouldn't know they were there until it was too late.

See why everyone always dies in my dreams; I'm a terrible planner.

We then decided that all the women and children would sleep in one room and the men would all sleep in the room near the front door, which is where everyone had been sleeping the last two nights when the wild dogs attacked. In our quest for weapons one of the Inspectors from my work (real Inspector from real work) said he had a flame thrower, and he did, but we decided not to use it because the dogs would catch on fire then run out into the forest and set all the trees on fire and that would be bad. Setting trees on fire, not good; setting wild dogs on fire, that's ok.

But we ended up using the flame thrower anyway and killed two of the dogs that night and didn't set fire to the forest. The rest of the dogs ran away and we didn't suffer any more casualties.

Hooray for flame throwers!

I hate dreams like that

I was being hunted by the "Tailies" from Lost, but I've never even seen a single episode.

I think it was related to a quest I was doing on WoW before I went to bed. I had to kill a bunch of pigmen and collect their tusks, 60 of them, for an Orc whose wife they'd killed. The pigmen were about 4 to 5 levels higher than my character, which doesn't sound like much, but in WoW 4 to 5 levels makes a big difference. They also respawned very quickly, meaning the time it took for the game to replace them after I'd killed them was very short, meaning I was sometimes getting ambushed by pigmen appearing out of thin air, and because the pigmen were 4 to 5 levels higher than me that usually ended with my character dying.

So I think that contributed to my "being hunted by Tailies" dream.

What was bizarre about the dream was that the small group of people I was with were taking refuge in the river, usually hiding under lily pads as they floated down the river. The Tailies eventually caught up with us at a wier at the end of the river which was next to a Zoo. I don't know what a Zoo was doing there, but it had been abandoned, although the animals were still alive. We found instructions to feed them, and if you think the dream has been wierd so far, here is where it took not just one but several jumps to the left.

The instuctions indicated that the animals ate Chihuahua puppies, and sure enough, we found an enclosure full of thousands of Chihuahua puppies. So I grabbed a handful of these puppies...and threw some to the wolves, who looked particularly hungry, and they gobbled those Chihuahua puppies right up.

That was when the Tailies saw us but they had to go through the wolf enclosure to get to us, so we had some time to slip down into the river and hide next to the wier. I think at this point there was just me and one other guy left, but I think the Tailies got him, leaving just me.

That's usually the way these dreams of mine end, me and a group of people against another group of people, demons, monsters, etc. Everyone dies but me. You'd think that would be comforting, hey, at least I survived, right? But I don't like the message it sends me. One day everyone is going to depend on me, and they're all going to die. I think when that day comes in real life I'm going to turn to everyone and say "Trust me on this; if you stick with me you're all going to die."

If any of you are with me when that day comes, feel free to back me up by calling out, "He's right, you know. He's going to get us all killed!"

I won't hold it against you at all.

Jackasses, Smartasses, and just plain Asses

I just got back to work after taking the last week off sick to find the coffee cup full of change. I'm in charge of the coffee club funds, which operates on an honor system. If you take a cup of coffee you throw in 60c, or you throw in $1 and get your change. Then I'd take all the coins, roll them up, change them at the 5th floor cafeteria, order coffee supplies and pay the bill, etc. Because of this, I usually have change at my desk so people come by when they need to break a $20, etc.

This morning one of my coworkers, R, comes by and asks if I can make change. Two weeks ago I got wiped out by such requests so all I have are $1 bills, and I doubt R wants twenty $1 for his $20 bill.

One of my other coworkers, C, has apparently collected all the bills from the coffee cup all last week (he likes to help out when I'm not here), but C is not in yet so I can't make change for R. I tell R that as soon as C is in I can make change, and normally C is in almost as early as I am so he can't be far away. R leaves.

I've worked closely with both C & R and almost consider them good friends, and C & R have known each other for a long time (they went to college together) so what happens next surprises me.

My cell phone rings and I see it's an incoming call from R. I answer. R tells me he is downstairs at the cafeteria and that they need change, because R has just bought a breakfast burrito (a $2.50 purchase) and wiped them out...because he paid with a $100 bill.

While I couldn't have broken R's $20 without lumping him with 20 $1 bills, I could have totally changed his $100 into five $20's.

I quickly went into the break room and start rolling the coins. R had mentioned to me that I probably had a $10 roll of quarters in the cup, thus hinting that he'd like the roll if I did. No way was he getting a roll of quarters after pulling that shit.

Jackass.

I'm a bit of a smart ass, I'll admit it, and the following further confirms that we dislike most in other people the negative trait we exhibit ourselves.

I'm counting and rolling the coins and another coworker comes in and asks me if I just got paid. Yeah, funny.

I keep counting and rolling and a second coworker comes in and starts laying out some pastries she's selling for a fund raiser.

Another coworker enters the room and asks what the pastries are for. Seeing me counting the change this coworker asks if I'm buying pastries for everyone.

I get this kind of shit all the time when I'm counting the change.

Smartasses.

My name is John, I'm a smart ass, and I hate smart asses. Yeah, I hate myself sometimes, too.

Finally, an amusing clip from Australia. It's a community announcement asking Aussie beer drinkers to not steal the glasses their beer is served in.

You can see it here...or you should be able to.

Now the slogan to the clip, as you'll see if you visit the website, is "You steal the glass, we'll nail your ass." I actually emailed the company and complained because ass is not Australian, it's American. Aussies use the British variant arse. Now admittedly arse doesn't rhyme with glass, well, not when written down; it does when you say it, regardless of your accent, but I wanted to know why an Aussie beer company was using the American variant of arse, and I got response.

It's because ass got by the editors/censors, whereas arse did not. A fair enough explanation.

You steal the glass, they'll nail your arse...to the wall.
Nice one, girls. Keep up the good work.

The little one is being cheeky

She can walk now, she chooses not to.

I think she's just lacking confidence, although I think she loves the attention she's getting right now more than anything. Once the novelty of "Look at me! I'm standing! I'm taking a few steps! Now I'm dropping to my knees!" wears off, she'll be running around and we'll be in big trouble.

Earlier she took a couple of steps away from the sofa and just stood there, bouncing & bobbing a little as she watched TV. JE and I got all excited (which she just loves, little attention seeker that she is) and she grinned at us and stood there for several more seconds before dropping to her knees in an "Oh yeah, I'm not supposed to be doing this yet" kind of way.

Saved by the skin of his shell

Remember last time when we got home and the Tetras had all died...coz I changed the water and we suspect it was the dechlorinating chemical was old.

We just got back from dinner and visiting a friend, and I glanced in the fish tank, and no, it wasn't full of belly up Tetras, but the snail that hijacked a ride on the plant and who has been doing such a good job of keeping the algae levels down...well...he was floating in the middle of the tank. Like halfway between surface and bottom, and out in the middle of the water, which is not like him at all. Normally he's stuck like a limpet to the tank wall, I know, I tried to pull him off the first time we met thinking he was a bit of crud (he was just a small snail then) when I realized he was a snail.

So he was out in the middle of the tank and he was just hanging out of his shell, and things didn't look too good. JE was on the verge of tears (I think), "I liked the snail", he said.

At that very moment a Tetra dived in and made a grab for Mr. Snail and he quickly withdrew into his shell.

That was a good thing. That meant there was life in the old snail yet!

Quickly I grabbed the fish net and scooped him up, then looked at the tank wondering where on earth I could put him. There were no convenient ledges to pop him on, and I feared if I put him into the tank he'd only end up bobbing around in the middle again, and the air I'm sure he stores inside his shell can only last so long. I'm surprised he hadn't drowned while we were gone, unless he has gills...interesting thought.

Fortunately I have a heater in the tank, and the top of the heater protrudes above the surface of the water, so I dropped Mr. Snail on top of the heater...and he bounced off and into the tank. I quickly scooped him up, but as the water ran out of my hand Mr. Snail was carried away with it, and I lost him again. I grabbed for him a second time, and lost him a second time, and for the next ten seconds I was bobbing for snails...well...one snail.

Finally I got him again and managed to place him on top of the heater where he sat, all tucked away inside his shell.

After several minutes his shell gave a little shrug as he grabbed the top of the heater and made himself more secure.

Another good sign.

Just like The Simpson's Daredevil "Captain" Lance Murdock, "He's okay, folks!"

Now, nothing more to see here, move along, move along.

A few random rants

Inspired by my good friend Spyfor I am encouraged to rant, just for a bit ;)
This is guaranteed to have me on someone's list of "blogs to review".

Patriots are true to their country; the government is not the country.
The second Amendment gives the people of this country the right to own and bear arms; the National Guard are not the militia.
Take away their means to fight back, and you control the people.
Control the media, and you control the people.
It has never been proven that removing guns from society makes us safer; if anything, it makes us defenseless against a greater evil.
The United States of America was created because "the people" rebelled and fought an oppressive government. The United States of America was also created by forcefully removing, through strength of arms, the land from the current occupants.
When all is said and done, those who beat their swords into plowshares will plow for those who don't.
Guns are not evil. A gun in the hands of an evil person is not evil. It is dangerous, but it was dangerous before it came into his possession because that is how it was designed; that does not make it evil. Cars are also dangerous, but they have better P.R Managers than guns.
Tyrants and bullies never win until you let them.

End Rant.

Cold, cold man

Ganked from Xinh.

Definitely. You scored 61% Cold and 58% Level-Headed!

You can kill. But the question "Why would you?" arises. Out of safety or cruelty?

My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 81% on Cold You scored higher than 33% on Level-Headed

Link: The Can You Kill a Man? Test written by notmarkflynn on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

I recently rented the following movies from Netflix: ECW:One Night Stand ; Zatoichi the Outlaw ; & Chronicles of Riddick:Dark Fury

Netflix then recommended a few movies rented by members who also enjoyed those three movies.

Number one on that list?
The Looney Tunes Golden Collection : Volume 1

Responsibility

A father showed his 4-year old daughter a delicate glass vase and told her that it was his mother`s, and that she should "never, ever touch it."

His daughter looked at him and said, "Then you should never, ever put it where I can reach it."

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Aah, the wisdom of the children :)

SON OF A BITCH!!!

It wasn't a Double-Whammy; It was a Fucking Triple-Whammy!!!

The follow "review" is contains excessive spoilers. You have been warned.

I've been reading James Patterson's "Suzanne's Diary For Nicholas" on the bus to and from work the last couple of days. Yeah, I know the title and cover make it look like a romance. I've already read a few romance novels in my time. What's one more?

The story is mostly made up of, as the name implies, entries in a journal by Suzanne to Nicholas, her son. She talks about him as she goes through her pregnancy, made complicated by a heart condition (she actually has a heart attack early in the story, prior to her becoming pregnant), then about Nicholas' early accomplishments. How he slept through most nights at just two weeks old, how he held his bottle for himself at two months old. A lot of the entries are about her time with Nicholas and his father, Matt, and about how lucky they are that Suzanne didn't die of her heart attack, and and how every day is one more day they get to spend together.

In the present, Matt has disappeared, leaving the journal for his editor, Katie, who is also his current girlfriend. Accompanying the journal is a note that some parts may be difficult for Katie to read. Katie's initial reaction is that Matt has left her to go back to Suzanne and Nicholas, and Katie is distraught because she is pregnant with Matt's child.

Near the end of the journal Suzanne falls pregnant for a second time, but her heart condition worsens and her doctor suggests she abort; Suzanne refuses, and her condition continues to gets worse. To me, it appeared unclear whether or not Suzanne had an abortion, a miscarriage (when she fell down a flight of stairs), or if she continued with the pregnancy. Matt tells her he could not stand losing her, yet he supports her decision not to have an abortion, and so the journal continues.

Shortly after Nicholas's first birthday Matt takes over writing, because while driving into town one day Suzanne has a heart attack and drives off a bridge. She dies, of course. Matt would never have cheated on her with Katie (or vice versa) because he's a great guy.

I'm getting a little choked up at this point but I'm still doing okat so I continue to read...until Matt starts telling Nicholas how his own father died when he was just eight years old, and how much it hurt him. We know this from earlier in the story, but for me, losing my own father just last year, I had to put the book down at this point and compose myself. Donning my shades, staring out the window, repeating "I'm not crying! I'm not!" to myself. Things like that.

Just before the bus pulls into the El Monte Bus Station I feel ready, so I pull the book out and continue reading because I've only got a few pages to go.

Matt writes to Nicholas, telling him how he wished he'd taken Suzanne in his arms and kissed her goodbye that one last time, but she'd had her arms full so she'd just blown him a kiss (sans hands, I guess) as she walked out to the car.

Matt tells Nicholas how he looked so cute, waving back at him and smiling, as Suzanne strapped him into his car seat...before driving into town that one last time.

Yes, Katie and Matt get back together, and get married, and live happily ever after. But Suzanne and Nicholas and Suzanne's unborn child? They're all still dead.

James Patterson, you're a son of a bitch, you know that?

McDonalds, and Men's Pants

I love McDonald's Apple Pies, and judging by how they're always in stock whenever I go into a McDonald's, so do a lot of other McD's customers. I'm being sarcastic there, but it probably doesn't come across too well.

Liz hates McDonald's, I'm not fond of it myself, but I do love their Apple Pies. We have a local McD's that we used to go to on a fairly frequent basis for dinner on account of the large play area they have, which included an N64 station with 4 or 5 N64s set up with various games for the kiddies to play. Now I realize we're there at dinner time, which may or may not be a peak time for them, but this particular McD's never seems to have any Apple Pies. I think I managed to get some Apple Pies there just once or twice.

Sometimes I'd ask for a couple of Apple Pies (2 for $1 you know) when we'd order our meal, only to be told they wouldn't be ready for about 15 minutes. Fine, we'd have our meal, JE would play, 20 minutes would have gone by so I'd go up to the counter to get a couple of Apple Pies, only to be told they still had none available. Another 10 minutes, I'd be told. 10 to 15 minutes later, just as we were leaving, I'd try again. Still none available.

The other night I went to a different McDonald's, around 5:30, wanting a coffee (or what passes for coffee) and a couple of Apple Pies. Apparently the customer before me also ordered a couple of Apple Pies. We were told they had none ready right now, but they would be ready in a minute or so. We waited, the Apple Pies came out, and the Drive-Thru attendant squealed (literally) and pounced on them for her Drive-Thru customer...and that was it. They had no more Apple Pies. The other customer and I were then told it would be another 10 minutes before some more were ready.

WTF? It's dinner time, one of the peak McDonald's times, they're out of Apple Pies and they only bake/fry/heat two of them at a time?

I'm gonna complain to McDonald's Corporate about this.

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Men's Jeans.

Ladies, I know you have the right to complain about your sizes. What is a size 4? What's a 6, or an 8, or a 0?!?!? What do you do if you're too skinny for a 0? Are there minus sizes? "Oh yes, I'm a negative two." WTF?

Now men have it easy...you'd think, wouldn't you. My pants, size 36. Well...that's what it says on the label. But you can get a pair of jeans from the same manufacturer, in the same style, the exact same cut even, with different waist band sizes. Get yourself a pair of 36x32 and a pair of 36x34. (Second number is leg length) and the waist on the 36x32 pair is tighter/smaller than the 36x34 pair. I have a couple of pairs of pants with 34" waists. They fit me. I have some with a 36" waist. They fit me too. I have other pairs with a 36" waist, and they hang on me, they're almost too big. Can someone tell me which country has inches that are a different length to the U.S.? There is none! So why isn't a 36" waist a 36" waist across the board? "Oh, he's got shorter legs, so his 36" waist is narrower than someone with longer legs. WTF?

End rant.

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.