For more sensational WW, click here.Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Kissing Ronald
My first job (not counting a couple of paper routes I had) was as a cook at McDonalds. Nothing glamorous, but I earned some extra cash and got out of the house a bit more.
We used to get a meal break every shift we worked, and they were nice enough to give us a free meal. Of course I was never hungry by the time my break came. We made Big Macs six at a time, and if you “dropped’ one by accident, you would only put up five for the shift manager. Did you know you can eat a Big Mac in about three bites if you are in a hurry? And after 4 or 5 of them, you really don’t want a meal on your break.
There were other things we did for fun while working. After we closed at night there was usually a french fry fight. Those little onion rings really hurt after they have been under the heater for awhile. I later learned in chemistry class that this has to do with some property of oil and vegetables. Ouch!!!
Those ketchup and mustard bottles make good squeeze weapons as well. You can sneak up on someone and fill an ear with condiments in a split second.
One of my favorites was that every time we did something with food in the kitchen we would announce it to the shift manager. “Dropping fries!” “Six Quarter pounders on the turn!” We served fish sandwiches, as usual, so I would yell, “Shark Down!” This never failed to get a reaction out of the shift manager. We didn’t sell shark burgers after all. Some people have no sense of humor.
But the most fun was when we had a lunch break. Out back of the restaurant was a storage shed. This was used for various tools, bread storage and drink syrups. There was also a large helium tank out there. It was used to inflate balloons for birthday parties for the little kids. It had a big Ronald McDonald head on it so that it looked like Ronald was blowing up the balloons for the precious little crumb snatchers.
The other employees and I would sit in this storage shed and breath helium for our break. Kissing Ronald became the secret phrase for this activity so that the managers wouldn’t know what we were doing. That is also exactly what it looked like.
You would put your hand behind Ronald’s head to turn the valve, and you would put your lips to Ronald’s mouth, where the helium was released. We would catch a big lungful of H and lean back and say, “I love you Ronald”, in that high pitched voice.
Call it latent homosexuality if you will, but I will always remember the feeling I would get when someone would look at me at work and ask if I wanted to go kiss Ronald.
Those were the days.
-P
We used to get a meal break every shift we worked, and they were nice enough to give us a free meal. Of course I was never hungry by the time my break came. We made Big Macs six at a time, and if you “dropped’ one by accident, you would only put up five for the shift manager. Did you know you can eat a Big Mac in about three bites if you are in a hurry? And after 4 or 5 of them, you really don’t want a meal on your break.
There were other things we did for fun while working. After we closed at night there was usually a french fry fight. Those little onion rings really hurt after they have been under the heater for awhile. I later learned in chemistry class that this has to do with some property of oil and vegetables. Ouch!!!
Those ketchup and mustard bottles make good squeeze weapons as well. You can sneak up on someone and fill an ear with condiments in a split second.
One of my favorites was that every time we did something with food in the kitchen we would announce it to the shift manager. “Dropping fries!” “Six Quarter pounders on the turn!” We served fish sandwiches, as usual, so I would yell, “Shark Down!” This never failed to get a reaction out of the shift manager. We didn’t sell shark burgers after all. Some people have no sense of humor.
But the most fun was when we had a lunch break. Out back of the restaurant was a storage shed. This was used for various tools, bread storage and drink syrups. There was also a large helium tank out there. It was used to inflate balloons for birthday parties for the little kids. It had a big Ronald McDonald head on it so that it looked like Ronald was blowing up the balloons for the precious little crumb snatchers.
The other employees and I would sit in this storage shed and breath helium for our break. Kissing Ronald became the secret phrase for this activity so that the managers wouldn’t know what we were doing. That is also exactly what it looked like.
You would put your hand behind Ronald’s head to turn the valve, and you would put your lips to Ronald’s mouth, where the helium was released. We would catch a big lungful of H and lean back and say, “I love you Ronald”, in that high pitched voice.
Call it latent homosexuality if you will, but I will always remember the feeling I would get when someone would look at me at work and ask if I wanted to go kiss Ronald.
Those were the days.
-P
Monday, May 26, 2008
Tangents
Hey everyone,
At the urging of my other half (and I am not talking about the voice in my head), I have created another blog.
Please take a look. It is probably not for everyone, but what is. I will continue my hit and miss postings here. Where else can I sound like a complete idiot and still have people leave me comments.
Thanks everyone.
-P
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Sing, sing a song...
My last few posts have been a little on the dark side, so I am going to try and write about something a little lighter in tone.
I have a terrible habit. I almost hate to admit it here in public. My wife is driven to distraction by what I do, but I can’t seem to help myself.
Grab your children and cover their eyes…er, ears…
I sing the wrong lyrics…on purpose…to songs on the radio.
And not just the wrong lyrics, but the wrong lyrics with a dirty undertone. Kind of a perverted Weird Al channel if you will.
There have been a lot of misinterpretations of song lyrics over the years. Louie Louie by The Kingsmen is probably the most famous example. The Monkeys (Sweet Young Thing), CCR (Lookin Out My Back Door), and Pearl Jam (Glorified G), all come to mind. If anyone wants to discuss what I am hearing when I listen to these song, feel free to ask.
But my problem is not one of misunderstanding. I go out of my way to change the lyrics even if it is quite obvious what the actual words are. Here, let me unlock this dark and cobwebby place in my head and show you.
Melissa Etheridge has a great song out called “It Only Hurts when I Breath”. I love this song, I think it is one of her best. But when I hear it I can’t help but sing:
It’s alright, it’s alright…it only hurts when I pee…
Seems kind of obvious to me. But really pisses the wife off. There are some songs that she can’t listen to anymore because she now hears my rewritten version instead of the original. Here’s another example.
The Cranberries Song “Linger”. While the skinny little Cranberry tart is singing “do you have to let it linger”, I am belting out, “do you have to pull my finger”. It can change the entire mood of the song.
Every song is open to reinterpretation by me, I pull no punches and allow no one to slip under my musical sights. Probably the only music that I can’t do anything with is country, it already makes fun of itself so I’ve got nothing. We were watching a couple of minutes of the CMA’s the other night and Trace Atkins sang a song. “You were looking out the window, of our SUV…”, how Americana can you get…(retch, gag, blow nose)
Sorry, I hate to get some of my lunch caught in a nostril.
Anyway, any song that tells you how many times to breath in a minute and when to swallow and blink your eyes is already to far gone to be messed with.
(Disclaimer – I love bands like Big & Rich, Lyle Lovette and Dwight Yoakam…go figure)
But anyway…even the Beatles, Led Zeppelin and Alice In Chains, rock Gods that they may be, are not beyond the scope of my dementia. I ought to write all this stuff down someday. I know Weird Al has already made a killing off of it, but I just can’t help myself. I have even found myself changing the lyrics to his rewritten lyrics.
I have been quite tame here. I am sure that most of the stuff I blurt out in the car would never make it past the censers. Of course there is satellite radio now. They even let Howard Stern talk without a loop button. Hmmmm….
-P
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
I keep getting tagged with these things. For someone who exists almost exclusively in a blog vacuum I sure am popular.
The idea behind this one is to tell six things about yourself that everyone else might not know. I will try not to get to personal...lol
This one has some rules, so I will include them here. I am also supposed to pick 6 people to have do this meme. I don’t think I know 6 people in person, never mind online. So, if you feel like doing this, please, be my guest. Don’t forget to link to me if you do.
The Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you (that's me!).
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about you in your blog post.
4. Tag six people in your post.
5. Let each person know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know your entry is up.
Ok, here goes…
1. I have a patent. It is for an optical memory chip. The number is 6,873,560. I tried to get funding to develop my idea but I was told that the idea was to advanced. My patent has actually been referenced by another patent. I guess it can't be to ahead of the curve. If anyone wants to buy it, drop me a note.
2. When I was 14 years old there was a fire at the house next door to mine. I was watching tv and noticed the kids huddled outside in their pajamas. I ran out side and they told me there was a fire. I ran into their house and their grandmother was trying to carry a pot of water up the stairs, I think she was in shock. I got her out side and called the fire department. I wasn't very popular at school so all the other kids said that I started the fire just so I could see the fire trucks. The upstairs of their house had to be gutted.
3. My grandmother died when I was about 7. We were very close and I was extremely upset at her passing. I did not attend the viewings or the funeral. I asked to go at one point thinking that my parents would have to buy me a suit. I always thought that wearing a suit was a very grown up thing. Everyone who was important and grown up wore suits, even the Beatles. My mom asked if I really want to go, because I could if I wanted to. I thought about it for a second and decided that wearing a suit was not a good enough reason to see my grandmother lying in a casket. I still remember her as being alive to this day.
4. I had a girlfriend in the fourth grade named Beth Johnson. We used to talk on the phone everyday after school. When I moved from North Carolina to Minnesota we promised that we would meet in Florida when we were 18 and sail away on a sailboat. I still want to live on a sailboat, but I doubt Beth would remember any of that.
5. I have a foot fetish. Not just any feet mind you. They have to be female feet (sorry guys). The foot has to be well shaped with a nice arch. The toes have to be the proper length, I hate when the second toe is longer then the rest. The pinky toe has to be well formed, no stubby twisted little things. And they must be clean. Sorry, everyone has a dark side.
6. I have always has a fascination with flying. I used to take a bed sheet and use it as a parachute while jumping out of a tree in the back yard. I came up with a design for the X-Prize that used a modified F-5B Tiger. Burt Rutan has a way of spoiling everyones dreams.
There ya go. I bet you're sorry you read this one...lol
-P
Friday, May 16, 2008
And You May Ask Yourself…Well, How Did I Get Here?
I never intended to do this. If I would have had a dart and a blindfold, I don’t think I would have hit this on a wall across the room.
I am referring to my profession. My daily grind. My 9 to 5. My job.
I am a network engineer by trade. I work with people who have degrees in computer science and electrical engineering. For the most part they seem happy with what they do, and look forward to the next challenge that might arise.
I on the other hand…hmmmm, let’s take a look at that hand. Shall we?
I watched the first men walk on the moon. I was 6 at the time, and fairly intelligent for my age. I pretty much taught myself to read using the news paper when I was 4. I used to take my writing and grammar school books and teach myself the lessons for the next grade up which were listed in the back as a preview.
I missed most of the fifth grade due to illness, but remained a straight A student through the middle of my 7th grade year. I had always planned on something in science or engineering, because that is what astronauts did. I wanted to go to the moon or Mars or some other place out in the solar system.
These are normal dreams for a child. Along with fireman or baseball player or butterfly catcher (my son’s choice when he was 5 or 6). But we all grow up, right?
When I was in the 7th grade I hit puberty. I became rebellious and decided that I didn’t want anything to do with normal society. Those people were sick conformist geeks. I would not get in line and Become One of the SILENT MASSES!!!
Sorry about that. Where was I?
One day I heard a song by the Beatles. It was the song Help! from their 1965 movie of the same name. I was immediately obsessed with becoming a musician. I wanted to play bass and sing in a rock band. I mowed lawns, did odd jobs for the neighbors, I even baby sat for some friends. All of this to save up and buy my first guitar.
Within three months of buying my first guitar I knew enough chords to join a band and play my first gig. I was the rhythm guitar player and singer. I stopped singing when my voice changed. I became a lead guitarist (never got to be a bass player), and joined a few bands who wrote their own music and preformed.
Like children, even adults have dreams that never come true.
While living in Seattle in the early 90’s and hoping to break in to music at the birth of the grunge scene, I took a job as a computer operator. Actually it was given to me by a friend. But she knows, and I know, that I never should have been hired for that job. I had no experience what-so-ever. I learned everything from scratch. I did end of being pretty good at it, but it was never what I wanted to do.
As I have gotten older I have gone back to my childhood dreams of science and engineering. I would love to have a degree in theoretical physics. But that dream is almost as difficult as the dream of being in music. I am so busy working as a network engineer that I have little to no time to attend school.
I actually dropped out of high school when I was 18. I earned my GED with a B+ average while in the marines. I even took the SATs for a possible run for the Marine enlisted officer program. I had chosen to go to college at the University of Michigan for aerospace engineering, but my eyes weren’t good enough to fly jets. So, like an idiot I dropped the whole process.
So, with no real high school education, no college degree, and no formal training, I design and test computer networks for a variety of clients. I make as much as my peers (finally), and am tasked with the same responsibilities. But I am not happy. I feel trapped in a never ending loop of design this, write about this, fix this.
I know for a fact that any other job I did would follow exactly the same process or loop. But it would be something that I chose. Something that I had an actual interest in. Right now I am just waiting to get old so that I can stop doing what I am doing and not have to worry about it anymore.
Go ahead, berate me and tell me how good I have it. I have heard it all before.
If life is what you make of it, I have made a mess of mine.
-P
I am referring to my profession. My daily grind. My 9 to 5. My job.
I am a network engineer by trade. I work with people who have degrees in computer science and electrical engineering. For the most part they seem happy with what they do, and look forward to the next challenge that might arise.
I on the other hand…hmmmm, let’s take a look at that hand. Shall we?
I watched the first men walk on the moon. I was 6 at the time, and fairly intelligent for my age. I pretty much taught myself to read using the news paper when I was 4. I used to take my writing and grammar school books and teach myself the lessons for the next grade up which were listed in the back as a preview.
I missed most of the fifth grade due to illness, but remained a straight A student through the middle of my 7th grade year. I had always planned on something in science or engineering, because that is what astronauts did. I wanted to go to the moon or Mars or some other place out in the solar system.
These are normal dreams for a child. Along with fireman or baseball player or butterfly catcher (my son’s choice when he was 5 or 6). But we all grow up, right?
When I was in the 7th grade I hit puberty. I became rebellious and decided that I didn’t want anything to do with normal society. Those people were sick conformist geeks. I would not get in line and Become One of the SILENT MASSES!!!
Sorry about that. Where was I?
One day I heard a song by the Beatles. It was the song Help! from their 1965 movie of the same name. I was immediately obsessed with becoming a musician. I wanted to play bass and sing in a rock band. I mowed lawns, did odd jobs for the neighbors, I even baby sat for some friends. All of this to save up and buy my first guitar.
Within three months of buying my first guitar I knew enough chords to join a band and play my first gig. I was the rhythm guitar player and singer. I stopped singing when my voice changed. I became a lead guitarist (never got to be a bass player), and joined a few bands who wrote their own music and preformed.
Like children, even adults have dreams that never come true.
While living in Seattle in the early 90’s and hoping to break in to music at the birth of the grunge scene, I took a job as a computer operator. Actually it was given to me by a friend. But she knows, and I know, that I never should have been hired for that job. I had no experience what-so-ever. I learned everything from scratch. I did end of being pretty good at it, but it was never what I wanted to do.
As I have gotten older I have gone back to my childhood dreams of science and engineering. I would love to have a degree in theoretical physics. But that dream is almost as difficult as the dream of being in music. I am so busy working as a network engineer that I have little to no time to attend school.
I actually dropped out of high school when I was 18. I earned my GED with a B+ average while in the marines. I even took the SATs for a possible run for the Marine enlisted officer program. I had chosen to go to college at the University of Michigan for aerospace engineering, but my eyes weren’t good enough to fly jets. So, like an idiot I dropped the whole process.
So, with no real high school education, no college degree, and no formal training, I design and test computer networks for a variety of clients. I make as much as my peers (finally), and am tasked with the same responsibilities. But I am not happy. I feel trapped in a never ending loop of design this, write about this, fix this.
I know for a fact that any other job I did would follow exactly the same process or loop. But it would be something that I chose. Something that I had an actual interest in. Right now I am just waiting to get old so that I can stop doing what I am doing and not have to worry about it anymore.
Go ahead, berate me and tell me how good I have it. I have heard it all before.
If life is what you make of it, I have made a mess of mine.
-P
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Motorcycles and Memories
I recently took a weekend trip to my mother’s house on the outer banks of NC. What made this trip unique was that I rode my motorcycle down.
I have been riding for about 2 years. Not a lot, and not as much as I would like, but I try to get out when the weather is good and I have some time to relax. Due to the increase in gas prices, I have started riding to work now. I drive about 100 miles a day round trip, and it is really helping to bring down the cost of my commute.
But back to the trip…
It is generally a 6 hour trip from my home to my mom’s. I rode into work on Friday morning, (about an hour), and then left from work to head on down, (about another 5 hours). I did have my doubts about the trip. Was I going to be able to ride a bike that far, would I get run over by a truck, would it rain on me…stuff like that.
Even though I have been riding for a couple of years, I still lacked confidence on the bike. I took the riding classes and all, so I am up on the basics. But I am still a newby. The last time I had ridden a motorcycle, (before buying the one I have now), was in Mexico in 1981.
I was 18 years old and some friends at the Holiday Inn in Puerto Vallarta had a little beater tucked in a closet. The chain was hanging off of it and no one knew how to fix or ride it. Truth be known, neither did I. But I convinced them to let me fix it and ride it around town.
I got it running. But I had no idea what I was doing. No helmet. I never got it out of first gear, (maybe second). But I would run up and down the cobblestone streets of the town with the motor just a whining. Every now and then I would end up at the bottom of a hill and I would be forced to push the bike up the hill because of the weak engine and my lack of experience. I even carried a few tools with me to repair the chain when it fell off, (every day).
So here I am now, 45 years old, and running down I-95 on a 700 lbs motorcycle at between 75 and 80 miles an hour. Either I am a complete idiot, or I have to stand on this bike because of the size of my balls. Actually, I am an idiot. But I love riding that bike.
After the ride to NC, (no rain, no run ins with trucks, and only minor cramping), I now have an acceptable amount of confidence. I feel more certain as to what to do in different situations. So I am thinking of selling the car, getting some rain and cold weather gear, and riding the bike all the time. Hell, I’m not rich, and $4 - $5 per gallon gas is not going to suddenly fit into my budget.
I have decided that the only car with acceptable gas mileage, it the car that is paid off. So I think I will be riding the bike for awhile. There may even be a trip down to Florida in my future…we shall see.
-P
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Meme...Me?
Someone seems to think that I don't post enough. So guess what happened to me.
I guess this is a blog thing, because I have never heard of it before. It is called a meme, or is that supposed to be a me-me, and you are supposed to answer everything with one word.
I am not fond of things that probe you for personal information. I don’t have anything to hide, but I tend to be a private person. That being said, I have a tendency to whine uncontrollably when prompted. (you have been warned) Maybe that is why my wife sent me something that requires one word answers.
Here goes…enjoy.
1. Where is your mobile phone? connection
2. Your significant other? home
3. Your hair? long
4. Your mother? drama
5. Your father? memory
6. Your favorite thing? future
7. Your dream last night? nothing
8. Your favorite drink? scotch
9. Your dream/goal? education
10. The room you’re in? cage
11. Your ex? who?
12. Your fear? money
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? moon
14. Where were you last night? billiards
15. What you’re not? sane
16. Muffins? coffee?
17. One of your wish list items? flying
18. Where you grew up? everywhere
19. The last thing you did? sigh
20. What are you wearing? jeans
21. Your TV? information
22. Your pets? spoiled
23. Your computer? slow
24. Your life? lacking
25. Your mood? lost
26. Missing someone? reload
27. Your car? thirsty
28. Something you’re not wearing? gauntlets
29. Favorite Store? Borders
30. Your summer? hopeful
31. Like someone? nope
32. Your favorite color? green
33. When is the last time you laughed? Sunday
34. Last time you cried? Leo
-P
I guess this is a blog thing, because I have never heard of it before. It is called a meme, or is that supposed to be a me-me, and you are supposed to answer everything with one word.
I am not fond of things that probe you for personal information. I don’t have anything to hide, but I tend to be a private person. That being said, I have a tendency to whine uncontrollably when prompted. (you have been warned) Maybe that is why my wife sent me something that requires one word answers.
Here goes…enjoy.
1. Where is your mobile phone? connection
2. Your significant other? home
3. Your hair? long
4. Your mother? drama
5. Your father? memory
6. Your favorite thing? future
7. Your dream last night? nothing
8. Your favorite drink? scotch
9. Your dream/goal? education
10. The room you’re in? cage
11. Your ex? who?
12. Your fear? money
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? moon
14. Where were you last night? billiards
15. What you’re not? sane
16. Muffins? coffee?
17. One of your wish list items? flying
18. Where you grew up? everywhere
19. The last thing you did? sigh
20. What are you wearing? jeans
21. Your TV? information
22. Your pets? spoiled
23. Your computer? slow
24. Your life? lacking
25. Your mood? lost
26. Missing someone? reload
27. Your car? thirsty
28. Something you’re not wearing? gauntlets
29. Favorite Store? Borders
30. Your summer? hopeful
31. Like someone? nope
32. Your favorite color? green
33. When is the last time you laughed? Sunday
34. Last time you cried? Leo
-P
Monday, April 7, 2008
A sphincter says what?
I do not hang out here everyday, (obviously).
So I was very surprised to log on today and see a comment on a post that I made almost four weeks ago. My first thought was that someone came over from my wife’s blog,
http://gettheetoapoet.blogspot.com
and read what I had written about my pets. This couldn’t have been further from the truth.
The fact of the matter is that someone had written a comment about my wife on my blog. What an act of cowardice. Apparently this person, who shall remain nameless, had made some comments on someone else’s blog about a mental illness. Quite a few people blog about issues with their own health or a member of their family, and it is not an easy thing for any of them to do. This nameless person, who just so happens to be a mental healthcare nurse, made some poorly, worded comments.
After coming to the defense of the owner of this blog, my wife became the target of this woman. Target may be a harsh word, as it would imply that my wife was the center of her disdain. Apparently this woman harasses anyone who doesn’t agree with her. Her blog talks about:
What a great person she is
How she helps people
How much smarter she is then anyone who actually lives with a person with mental illness
How much money she makes helping people
What is going on with troublesome patients
How her husband slept with someone else and left her
Her weight
Co-workers who don’t like her and what she would like to do to them
(I had to make these bullet points because there were so many of them in just the three posts I read)
My blog post concerned my dog farting. Not the most glamorous of happenstances, but a life occurrence none the less. This woman decided to comment about my dog’s gas issues by saying that my wife was a baby machine and a writer wannabe. A simple question about published works would have been answered with the names of the books that my wife has written. But instead of an inquiry, my blog was littered with a comment about my wife being a baby machine, (2 kids does not make you a baby machine, it just means that you are getting laid by your HUSBAND).
Now, my wife has quite a few friends in blogland, and I am sure they would not be happy with any of the comments by this woman. But as I have said, this woman will remain nameless, and any future comments by her with be deleted. She does not deserve the attention that she would receive from anyone going to her blog and commenting on her posts. Of course, self absorbed people always find a way to make themselves known. And anyone that knows who I am talking about or has run into this woman before will know exactly who and what I am talking about.
Happy blogging everyone…P
P.S. – I would like to say hi to this woman if she drops by and reads this post…HI!!!!!
So I was very surprised to log on today and see a comment on a post that I made almost four weeks ago. My first thought was that someone came over from my wife’s blog,
http://gettheetoapoet.blogspot.com
and read what I had written about my pets. This couldn’t have been further from the truth.
The fact of the matter is that someone had written a comment about my wife on my blog. What an act of cowardice. Apparently this person, who shall remain nameless, had made some comments on someone else’s blog about a mental illness. Quite a few people blog about issues with their own health or a member of their family, and it is not an easy thing for any of them to do. This nameless person, who just so happens to be a mental healthcare nurse, made some poorly, worded comments.
After coming to the defense of the owner of this blog, my wife became the target of this woman. Target may be a harsh word, as it would imply that my wife was the center of her disdain. Apparently this woman harasses anyone who doesn’t agree with her. Her blog talks about:
What a great person she is
How she helps people
How much smarter she is then anyone who actually lives with a person with mental illness
How much money she makes helping people
What is going on with troublesome patients
How her husband slept with someone else and left her
Her weight
Co-workers who don’t like her and what she would like to do to them
(I had to make these bullet points because there were so many of them in just the three posts I read)
My blog post concerned my dog farting. Not the most glamorous of happenstances, but a life occurrence none the less. This woman decided to comment about my dog’s gas issues by saying that my wife was a baby machine and a writer wannabe. A simple question about published works would have been answered with the names of the books that my wife has written. But instead of an inquiry, my blog was littered with a comment about my wife being a baby machine, (2 kids does not make you a baby machine, it just means that you are getting laid by your HUSBAND).
Now, my wife has quite a few friends in blogland, and I am sure they would not be happy with any of the comments by this woman. But as I have said, this woman will remain nameless, and any future comments by her with be deleted. She does not deserve the attention that she would receive from anyone going to her blog and commenting on her posts. Of course, self absorbed people always find a way to make themselves known. And anyone that knows who I am talking about or has run into this woman before will know exactly who and what I am talking about.
Happy blogging everyone…P
P.S. – I would like to say hi to this woman if she drops by and reads this post…HI!!!!!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Animals are awesome!!!
I had to put this up.
If any of you have ever been around an English bulldog then you probably know the two most obvious things about them.
1. They are great, lovable dogs
2. They create gas to rival a herd of cattle
My wife was just sitting in the recliner with Bodhi, our 8 month old bulldog puppy, and Gizmo, our daughters cat. Both the dog and the cat were napping. Bodhi cut an SBD (Silent But Deadly) that threatened to take the paint off the walls.
The cat woke up and looked around. She looked very concerned about the air quality in the room, but couldn't figure out what was going on. In a last ditch effort to determine the source of the methane, she lifted her own leg and sniffed her own ass. After confirming that she was not the originator, she looked at the dog and jumped off the chair.
We all laughed so hard we woke the poor dog up. He doesn't know the power he wields.
-P
Ok, this was depressing
I found this on my wife's blog and decided to fill it out. My normal impulse is to stay away from things that cause me to explore myself or give any insite into myself. I should stick to those impulses.
I don't really think I am that deep of a person, so scratching the surface usually just shows the other side. But, in the interest of fairness, I will post my answers. Maybe some armchair psychiatrist out there can get their Phd figuring me out...lol
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Enjoying the view from the beach in those Corona commercials
What is your greatest fear?
Having anything wrong with my heart. I would rather have cancer then a heart problem.
Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Galileo
Which living person do you most admire?
The Dalai Lama
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Procrastination
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Intolerance
What is your greatest extravagance?
Flying, it is very expensive to rent a plane and pay for fuel.
What is your favorite journey?
Anything over water
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Virtues are defined by culture. I guess I would have to answer for the Western and/or Christian virtues because of my upbringing. For the Western virtue I would pick Temperance and for the Christian virtue I would choose Faith.
On what occasion do you lie?
To avoid hurting anyone or causing conflict
What do you dislike most about your appearance?
My high forehead
Which living person do you most despise?
Karl Rove
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
“You’ll have that”, I don’t like the person I learned it from.
What is your greatest regret?
Not finishing school
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
I have to say my wife, (or else this will be my last post…lol)
Which talent would you most like to have?
I would like to be better at math
What is your current state of mind?
Confusion
If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
One thing would change nothing, so it is a moot point.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I have one patent approved and a few more on the way
If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
This one is very karmic, I don’t know if we get to choose, and I don’t know whether I would move up or down the ladder
If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?
A sea turtle
What is your most treasured possession?
My sanity (it is also my smallest possession…lol)
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Going to work every day doing something you take no pleasure in or feel no sense of accomplishment from.
Where would you like to live?
The moon or some other celestial body with no atmosphere
What is your favorite occupation?
Physicist or aerospace engineer
What is your most marked characteristic?
My cynicism
What are the qualities you most like in a man?
Intelligence
What are the qualities you most like in a woman?
Intelligence
What do you most value in your friends?
Tolerance
Who are your favorite writers?
Alastair Reynolds, Asimov, Mary Stewart, Marion Zimmer Bradley
Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
It is a toss up between Conner Mcleod (Highlander) or Qui-Gon Jinn (Star Wars Ep I)
Who are your heroes in real life?
Neil Armstrong, Ferdinand Magellan, Albert Einstein, Richard Feynman
What are your favorite names?
Constance, Sarah, Conner
What is it that you most dislike?
Dishonesty
How would you like to die?
The truth? I would like to be in a spaceship, somewhere between the stars. When I know the time is right, I program the life support systems to slowly lower the temperature to just above freezing. That way I pass into sleep, and I am there for anyone to find in the future.
What is your motto?
I should have made a left turn in Albakerky
I don't really think I am that deep of a person, so scratching the surface usually just shows the other side. But, in the interest of fairness, I will post my answers. Maybe some armchair psychiatrist out there can get their Phd figuring me out...lol
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Enjoying the view from the beach in those Corona commercials
What is your greatest fear?
Having anything wrong with my heart. I would rather have cancer then a heart problem.
Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Galileo
Which living person do you most admire?
The Dalai Lama
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Procrastination
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Intolerance
What is your greatest extravagance?
Flying, it is very expensive to rent a plane and pay for fuel.
What is your favorite journey?
Anything over water
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Virtues are defined by culture. I guess I would have to answer for the Western and/or Christian virtues because of my upbringing. For the Western virtue I would pick Temperance and for the Christian virtue I would choose Faith.
On what occasion do you lie?
To avoid hurting anyone or causing conflict
What do you dislike most about your appearance?
My high forehead
Which living person do you most despise?
Karl Rove
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
“You’ll have that”, I don’t like the person I learned it from.
What is your greatest regret?
Not finishing school
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
I have to say my wife, (or else this will be my last post…lol)
Which talent would you most like to have?
I would like to be better at math
What is your current state of mind?
Confusion
If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
One thing would change nothing, so it is a moot point.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I have one patent approved and a few more on the way
If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
This one is very karmic, I don’t know if we get to choose, and I don’t know whether I would move up or down the ladder
If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?
A sea turtle
What is your most treasured possession?
My sanity (it is also my smallest possession…lol)
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Going to work every day doing something you take no pleasure in or feel no sense of accomplishment from.
Where would you like to live?
The moon or some other celestial body with no atmosphere
What is your favorite occupation?
Physicist or aerospace engineer
What is your most marked characteristic?
My cynicism
What are the qualities you most like in a man?
Intelligence
What are the qualities you most like in a woman?
Intelligence
What do you most value in your friends?
Tolerance
Who are your favorite writers?
Alastair Reynolds, Asimov, Mary Stewart, Marion Zimmer Bradley
Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
It is a toss up between Conner Mcleod (Highlander) or Qui-Gon Jinn (Star Wars Ep I)
Who are your heroes in real life?
Neil Armstrong, Ferdinand Magellan, Albert Einstein, Richard Feynman
What are your favorite names?
Constance, Sarah, Conner
What is it that you most dislike?
Dishonesty
How would you like to die?
The truth? I would like to be in a spaceship, somewhere between the stars. When I know the time is right, I program the life support systems to slowly lower the temperature to just above freezing. That way I pass into sleep, and I am there for anyone to find in the future.
What is your motto?
I should have made a left turn in Albakerky
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Resurrection Spells for Sale
All of the geeks know it. Anyone who ever wanted to slip through a dimension door and live in a permanent Ren–Fest knows it. Last week Gary Gygax went to the great beyond. This death is ripe for the picking. I mean, just look at the title of this post. But along with all of the resurrection jokes and debating over which alignment and gods he followed, there is probably a group of people who a taking some pleasure at his passing.
Certain religious groups have been staunchly against the game of D&D and AD&D since they came on the market. Just like using Ouiji boards, it has been said that anyone who dares to roll the dice is actually opening the door and inviting Satan in. There is even a passage in the Bible, (don’t ask me where, but I have read it myself) that says you are not supposed to cast spells. So I guess that playing this “game” is about as close as you can come to breaking Gods laws.
Now, believe it or not, I have actually played this game. It’s true, I know you probably don’t believe me, but I used to enjoy weekly games of D&D with my friends. It started when I was in the Marines back in the 80s. After the money runs out and you can’t afford to go drinking on liberty anymore, a rip roaring game of D&D is just what the doctor ordered.
We would sit in the barracks on Okinawa and see what kind of trouble we could get into. The first character I ever rolled was a fighter of Nordic origin named Eric Broadaxe. (How’s that for creative?) This was before the Unearthed Arcana rules came out, so I rolled 3 6-sided dice 6 times to get my numbers. This guy came out with an 18/88 strength and an 18 intelligence. Unbelievable!!!
Sorry if I am losing any of the uninitiated.
Eric was quite the dude. Everyone wanted him to run in their dungeons. Twice the gods bestowed extra strength on him, so that his total became a 20. In my arrogance I began playing him with no armor. He could literally kill with a single strike of his 2 handed sword.
But alas, the good times always come to an end. He was punished for an act of murder and could no longer harm humans. No matter how hard he struck someone, they would feel nothing. (Dragons, you were still in grave danger)
Now…back to real life. I have never killed anyone. If I did, I would suffer a worse fate then not being able to harm another human being, (I am getting to old to be doing all of that bending over). And all of the dice I rolled, and all of the evil little critters I killed (on paper) never altered anyone’s life in any way, shape or form. So, am I evil? Have I been corrupted? Should I be held up as an example of what can go wrong if you start down this dark and dangerous path?
There was another group of Marines who did not join us for our weekend games. They would disappear from the barracks on Friday afternoon and show back up at formation on Monday morning. Married and single, they all had one thing in common. They all had a woman in town that they were seeing. Some even lived with these women on the weekends. It was kind of a rotational thing I believe. As one unit rotated out and another one rotated in, the women would hook up with new guy. The men got company and the women had someone to help pay bills and buy food.
The world is a strange place. We keep quiet about the doings of people in their private lives, and we raise hell about people playing a game that might match you against a demon. So what if you have to roll a few dice and caste a fireball spell to defeat your foe.
I never got laid playing D&D.
And that might be the biggest joke of all…lol
RIP Gary. And thanks.
-P
Certain religious groups have been staunchly against the game of D&D and AD&D since they came on the market. Just like using Ouiji boards, it has been said that anyone who dares to roll the dice is actually opening the door and inviting Satan in. There is even a passage in the Bible, (don’t ask me where, but I have read it myself) that says you are not supposed to cast spells. So I guess that playing this “game” is about as close as you can come to breaking Gods laws.
Now, believe it or not, I have actually played this game. It’s true, I know you probably don’t believe me, but I used to enjoy weekly games of D&D with my friends. It started when I was in the Marines back in the 80s. After the money runs out and you can’t afford to go drinking on liberty anymore, a rip roaring game of D&D is just what the doctor ordered.
We would sit in the barracks on Okinawa and see what kind of trouble we could get into. The first character I ever rolled was a fighter of Nordic origin named Eric Broadaxe. (How’s that for creative?) This was before the Unearthed Arcana rules came out, so I rolled 3 6-sided dice 6 times to get my numbers. This guy came out with an 18/88 strength and an 18 intelligence. Unbelievable!!!
Sorry if I am losing any of the uninitiated.
Eric was quite the dude. Everyone wanted him to run in their dungeons. Twice the gods bestowed extra strength on him, so that his total became a 20. In my arrogance I began playing him with no armor. He could literally kill with a single strike of his 2 handed sword.
But alas, the good times always come to an end. He was punished for an act of murder and could no longer harm humans. No matter how hard he struck someone, they would feel nothing. (Dragons, you were still in grave danger)
Now…back to real life. I have never killed anyone. If I did, I would suffer a worse fate then not being able to harm another human being, (I am getting to old to be doing all of that bending over). And all of the dice I rolled, and all of the evil little critters I killed (on paper) never altered anyone’s life in any way, shape or form. So, am I evil? Have I been corrupted? Should I be held up as an example of what can go wrong if you start down this dark and dangerous path?
There was another group of Marines who did not join us for our weekend games. They would disappear from the barracks on Friday afternoon and show back up at formation on Monday morning. Married and single, they all had one thing in common. They all had a woman in town that they were seeing. Some even lived with these women on the weekends. It was kind of a rotational thing I believe. As one unit rotated out and another one rotated in, the women would hook up with new guy. The men got company and the women had someone to help pay bills and buy food.
The world is a strange place. We keep quiet about the doings of people in their private lives, and we raise hell about people playing a game that might match you against a demon. So what if you have to roll a few dice and caste a fireball spell to defeat your foe.
I never got laid playing D&D.
And that might be the biggest joke of all…lol
RIP Gary. And thanks.
-P
Sunday, March 9, 2008
This is Red 5, I'm going in...
Ok, so I wasn’t here for a few days. But I have a great excuse.
You see, for the past 5 years, (that’s right…5 years) I have been taking flying lessons. Now this might seems a little excessive considering the fact that you are required a minimum of 40 hours of flight time to obtain a pilots license. But I am nothing if not patient.
Before I say anything else let me tell you that I am not a terrible pilot or a slow learner. I don’t have 1000 hours in my book with no solo endorsement, and I have no accidents or any mishaps. I have just been…side tracked.
I started off fine. I would go out a couple of times a week and take my lessons. I attended ground school and took my FAA written test before I ever flew. And, I even soloed at 18 hours, which isn’t to bad from what I hear. But life happens.
My son went off to an expensive college…for one semester. That put a dent in the wallet. And I kind of got off track after that. If was over a year before I started flying again. And it was actually my wife who put me back in a plane.
She took me out for breakfast for my birthday last year. We went to the little diner at the airport. It’s one of those $100 hamburger places that you hear about. If you’ve never had a $100 hamburger, come and see me for a plane ride. After breakfast she opens the trunk of the car, and all of my flight gear is in there. She says, “you’re flying today, Happy Birthday!”.
So I started flying again.
It still wasn’t easy. Work has been a pain this past couple of years. The weather has been iffy at best. I have gone back to school and have been struggling with calculus. So I have been flying on the weekends, maybe once every 4 – 6 weeks if things are bad time wise. But I am getting there.
I have 60 hours of flight time now. I was at the airport this morning taking my stage 2 check. I am ready for my cross-country solo flights now. Next up, stage 3, which is just a review of everything, and then my FAA check ride. I should be done in the next month. (Famous last words)
I am truly looking forward to finishing this process. We are talking about flying down to the Outer Banks of NC in May. It would be great to look down and see all the traffic we could be stuck in while we cut the travel time in half.
Of course I will probably start in on my instrument rating after this. I just hope that doesn’t take another 5 years.
-P
You see, for the past 5 years, (that’s right…5 years) I have been taking flying lessons. Now this might seems a little excessive considering the fact that you are required a minimum of 40 hours of flight time to obtain a pilots license. But I am nothing if not patient.
Before I say anything else let me tell you that I am not a terrible pilot or a slow learner. I don’t have 1000 hours in my book with no solo endorsement, and I have no accidents or any mishaps. I have just been…side tracked.
I started off fine. I would go out a couple of times a week and take my lessons. I attended ground school and took my FAA written test before I ever flew. And, I even soloed at 18 hours, which isn’t to bad from what I hear. But life happens.
My son went off to an expensive college…for one semester. That put a dent in the wallet. And I kind of got off track after that. If was over a year before I started flying again. And it was actually my wife who put me back in a plane.
She took me out for breakfast for my birthday last year. We went to the little diner at the airport. It’s one of those $100 hamburger places that you hear about. If you’ve never had a $100 hamburger, come and see me for a plane ride. After breakfast she opens the trunk of the car, and all of my flight gear is in there. She says, “you’re flying today, Happy Birthday!”.
So I started flying again.
It still wasn’t easy. Work has been a pain this past couple of years. The weather has been iffy at best. I have gone back to school and have been struggling with calculus. So I have been flying on the weekends, maybe once every 4 – 6 weeks if things are bad time wise. But I am getting there.
I have 60 hours of flight time now. I was at the airport this morning taking my stage 2 check. I am ready for my cross-country solo flights now. Next up, stage 3, which is just a review of everything, and then my FAA check ride. I should be done in the next month. (Famous last words)
I am truly looking forward to finishing this process. We are talking about flying down to the Outer Banks of NC in May. It would be great to look down and see all the traffic we could be stuck in while we cut the travel time in half.
Of course I will probably start in on my instrument rating after this. I just hope that doesn’t take another 5 years.
-P
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Mr P... congratulations, it's a girl
I am a father.
This isn't anything new mind you. My daughter was born 24 years ago, and my son was born 20 years ago. So I actually have a history as far as parenting goes. But, from time to time, your children have a way of reminding you that you have donated DNA and added to the population. And this is not always a good thing.
Now don't get me wrong, I love my kids. When I am gone, they will cry over me, put me in a box, slide me into a fire, and throw my ashes into the air like confetti. Well, if they have been listening to me all these years they will. And if they ever have children, they will tell those kids how crazy I was, and how I used to retell the same stories from the Marines, and how everyone mistook me for their brother instead of their father.
But...and this but could be the one where my kids have a tendency to cause the most pain, there are times when I would like to forget that I am a father for a while. It seems that no matter their age, they seem to want to bring their problems to you and share them. And not just share them, but give them to you like a gift.
My aunt and uncle had a dog that would go out and catch rabbits and bring them home as gifts. I remember seeing one of them with it's leg bone hanging out. The dog was so happy, tail wagging, tongue hanging out with a hound grin on his face. My kids bring me a rabbit every now and then. And they expect me to skin it and cook it.
It doesn't help the rabbit any. And I don't mind skinning and cooking a rabbit. But if you keep bringing me rabbits, I am going to get tired of rabbit after a time. And you won't like me very much when I a tired of rabbit.
So, if I could say anything to the young people out there, and my kids in particular, please, learn to clean your own rabbit. It might taste better if you clean it yourself, and it might give you a feeling of accomplishment if you do.
By the way, I like rabbit. We used to have it every week in Okinowa and I looked forward to those days. I stood guard in an ammo dump in NC for a few months. We carried shotguns, and there were always rabbits about. Damn if it wasn't tempting to load up and take a shot. But I had a job to do, and I was dedicated to the mission...LOL. Sorry, couldn't hold that in.
Take care all...P
Monday, March 3, 2008
Where's the penguin?
Hello,
I was really expecting to see the penguin picture that they place on the different blog pages that we have to choose from here. He was a sturdy looking fellow, and named John Doe none the less. Perhaps his name should have been John Doe Penguin, giving a nod to Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
I find it amazing that most if not all animals share the same last name. And that name usually has something to do with the type of animal they are. If that practice extended to people then we would have names like Mary Human, or Howard Homosapien. Thank goodness we aren’t animals.
Ummmm…never mind
As you may have noticed, this is my blog. I am going to blog here. If you are inclined to read blogs, you might want to visit here from time to time and read my blogs.
There are many blogs to choose from, and we at the “Who—but who isn’t” Blog appreciate you choosing our blog for your blog reading needs.
Nothing special to report. Since this is kind of new to me it may take me a bit to become accustomed to doing this. I have attempted to keep a journal, but my attempt has turned out to be quite feeble.
Writing can be very good for you, or so I am told. So, I will try and make this a bit more of a priority. If it turns out that people are reading, I may become obsessively active at blogging. If not, then you may be treated to bouts of sobbing and self degrading tantrums. We shall see.
If you want to know anything about it, it shall be posted in my profile soon. If you have any questions or comments, don’t be shy, hit the button. Later…
-P
I was really expecting to see the penguin picture that they place on the different blog pages that we have to choose from here. He was a sturdy looking fellow, and named John Doe none the less. Perhaps his name should have been John Doe Penguin, giving a nod to Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
I find it amazing that most if not all animals share the same last name. And that name usually has something to do with the type of animal they are. If that practice extended to people then we would have names like Mary Human, or Howard Homosapien. Thank goodness we aren’t animals.
Ummmm…never mind
As you may have noticed, this is my blog. I am going to blog here. If you are inclined to read blogs, you might want to visit here from time to time and read my blogs.
There are many blogs to choose from, and we at the “Who—but who isn’t” Blog appreciate you choosing our blog for your blog reading needs.
Nothing special to report. Since this is kind of new to me it may take me a bit to become accustomed to doing this. I have attempted to keep a journal, but my attempt has turned out to be quite feeble.
Writing can be very good for you, or so I am told. So, I will try and make this a bit more of a priority. If it turns out that people are reading, I may become obsessively active at blogging. If not, then you may be treated to bouts of sobbing and self degrading tantrums. We shall see.
If you want to know anything about it, it shall be posted in my profile soon. If you have any questions or comments, don’t be shy, hit the button. Later…
-P
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