Tuesday, December 28, 2004
why did i buy two, count em two, hockey games for xbox?
Thursday, December 23, 2004
JOYOUS KWANZAA!
say it like a ninja giving a karate chop and it's fun.
like, HIIII-YA!
say it like a ninja giving a karate chop and it's fun.
like, HIIII-YA!
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
alright, first off let's get one thing straight: there is no santa claus.
ok, moving on here.
my wife and i weren't going to go into the whole santa thing with our daughter. it was a tough decision. it largely rested on the fact that we would upset other relatives of ours that may or may not teach their kids about santa and let them believe until high skool graduation.
we were going to teach her that santa was once a nice man named klaus who brought toys to those in need.
the idea was to bring the focus in her mind that Christmas was about the birth of Christ.
not that we are religious fanatics who want to shun out everything in the world that may lead us into temptation such as chewing gum, books with non-fictional characters or movies above a G rating or even starring david hasselhoff.
i like exchanging presents just as much or even more than anybody, we were just going to keep santa alive in movies and malls.
when my wife first pitched the idea of not having saint nick as part of our Christmas morning thingie i got that evil grin i get sometimes. i immediately thought about the bratty kid in skools who goes around telling other kids that there is no santa claus, and works in the death of the easter bunny too. kids go crying home to mommy and/or daddy and they spend hours on the couch either talking their kids back into the mythology or spring the truth on them prematurely and just get it over with. worst case scenario, kids she tells go through years of therapy due to having this surprise thrown at them before they were ready to handle the shock.
way to go kid!
but alas, there would also be the phone calls from disgruntled parents who would feel the need to yell at me about how i raise my kid.
that's why i have caller I.D.
but no, my wife had the plan to ease our kid into and out of it. mommy and daddy do the whole present thing. santa brings the stocking. we were going to let her know to respect other kids and how they do the entire santa bizness.
but here's the reality of the situation:
she's in pre skool. she's surrounded by the king of the elves and his paraphenalia. it's cute actually. she comes home and tells me that santa is going to give her toys, not reindeer poop, daddy! her teached tells that bad kids get reindeer poop, when i grew up, it was coal. but reindeer poop is even less rewarding. even bob cratchett would have gone nutzoid if someone gave him coal to warm his white trash family.
anywho, so my daughter believes that santa is going to bring her toys on baby Jesus birthday. like i said, cute.
cuz on the other hand, she also goes to sunday school. and she gets a lot out of that. hopefully, she's pretty well balanced.
oh, by the way. she's terrified of anybody dressed in a santa suit. that's not my fault.
ok, moving on here.
my wife and i weren't going to go into the whole santa thing with our daughter. it was a tough decision. it largely rested on the fact that we would upset other relatives of ours that may or may not teach their kids about santa and let them believe until high skool graduation.
we were going to teach her that santa was once a nice man named klaus who brought toys to those in need.
the idea was to bring the focus in her mind that Christmas was about the birth of Christ.
not that we are religious fanatics who want to shun out everything in the world that may lead us into temptation such as chewing gum, books with non-fictional characters or movies above a G rating or even starring david hasselhoff.
i like exchanging presents just as much or even more than anybody, we were just going to keep santa alive in movies and malls.
when my wife first pitched the idea of not having saint nick as part of our Christmas morning thingie i got that evil grin i get sometimes. i immediately thought about the bratty kid in skools who goes around telling other kids that there is no santa claus, and works in the death of the easter bunny too. kids go crying home to mommy and/or daddy and they spend hours on the couch either talking their kids back into the mythology or spring the truth on them prematurely and just get it over with. worst case scenario, kids she tells go through years of therapy due to having this surprise thrown at them before they were ready to handle the shock.
way to go kid!
but alas, there would also be the phone calls from disgruntled parents who would feel the need to yell at me about how i raise my kid.
that's why i have caller I.D.
but no, my wife had the plan to ease our kid into and out of it. mommy and daddy do the whole present thing. santa brings the stocking. we were going to let her know to respect other kids and how they do the entire santa bizness.
but here's the reality of the situation:
she's in pre skool. she's surrounded by the king of the elves and his paraphenalia. it's cute actually. she comes home and tells me that santa is going to give her toys, not reindeer poop, daddy! her teached tells that bad kids get reindeer poop, when i grew up, it was coal. but reindeer poop is even less rewarding. even bob cratchett would have gone nutzoid if someone gave him coal to warm his white trash family.
anywho, so my daughter believes that santa is going to bring her toys on baby Jesus birthday. like i said, cute.
cuz on the other hand, she also goes to sunday school. and she gets a lot out of that. hopefully, she's pretty well balanced.
oh, by the way. she's terrified of anybody dressed in a santa suit. that's not my fault.
Monday, December 20, 2004
i've been doin this whole bloggy thing for over a year now, so i may repeat some of my ideas. considering that i am slow of mind.
anyway.
i really want a defibrilator!
not one of those ones where you place the stickers on the chest and press a button from a safe distance.
i want a defibrilator that lets you rub the iron sized paddles together and yell, "CLEAR!" and zap the heck out of your intended target.
like unsuspecting cats, they could use a good shocking. they have 9 lives. "CLEAR!" zzzzzzzt! meeowrrr! thud!
or wake up high skool kids who stayed up all night playing halo 2 on xbox.
"CLEAR!" zzzzzt!
oh man! good times.
anyway.
i really want a defibrilator!
not one of those ones where you place the stickers on the chest and press a button from a safe distance.
i want a defibrilator that lets you rub the iron sized paddles together and yell, "CLEAR!" and zap the heck out of your intended target.
like unsuspecting cats, they could use a good shocking. they have 9 lives. "CLEAR!" zzzzzzzt! meeowrrr! thud!
or wake up high skool kids who stayed up all night playing halo 2 on xbox.
"CLEAR!" zzzzzt!
oh man! good times.
bucky!
Friday, December 17, 2004
y'know, i hate people in general, but i love last minute Christmas shopping.
go figure.
go figure.
i was walkin around sam's club with a wad of cash in my pocket.
that's dangerous.
i almost bought 6 lbs. of peanut butter.
what am i gonna do with 6 lbs. of peanut butter?
what?!?
that's dangerous.
i almost bought 6 lbs. of peanut butter.
what am i gonna do with 6 lbs. of peanut butter?
what?!?
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
so i'm watching the road warrior starring mel gibson and something about it has always bugged me.
be prepared, this is not one of my more life changing revelationlike entries, just lettin ya know.
the movie is about a post apocalyptic time, in australia, in which those who lucky enough to survive drive around in search of the life giving substance, gasoline. yes, they constantly drive their cars, motorcycles and dune buggies all over the place in order to find more of this precious petrol.
ever since i was a kid and i saw this movie, and it's so not like me to yell at the TV or movie screen cuz i know they can't hear me, but i just wanted to shout, "STOP DRIVING!!!!"
i understand, driving from point A to point B and using up gas to do that. but they were outside the bunker that people were protecting their copious amounts of gasoline revving their engines and driving in circles.
sigh.
space, just keep telling yourself, it's only a movie.
one thing they did not seem to run out of in this movie was sports equipment that they wore instead of clothes. somebody raided the locker room as soon as the bombs dropped. some were hording food and other supplies, but somebody in this timeline made out like a bandit stealing shoulderpads and bike helmets.
there, not an earth shattering observation on my part, but, well, um, er, i just killed a few minutes of your life.
so there.
be prepared, this is not one of my more life changing revelationlike entries, just lettin ya know.
the movie is about a post apocalyptic time, in australia, in which those who lucky enough to survive drive around in search of the life giving substance, gasoline. yes, they constantly drive their cars, motorcycles and dune buggies all over the place in order to find more of this precious petrol.
ever since i was a kid and i saw this movie, and it's so not like me to yell at the TV or movie screen cuz i know they can't hear me, but i just wanted to shout, "STOP DRIVING!!!!"
i understand, driving from point A to point B and using up gas to do that. but they were outside the bunker that people were protecting their copious amounts of gasoline revving their engines and driving in circles.
sigh.
space, just keep telling yourself, it's only a movie.
one thing they did not seem to run out of in this movie was sports equipment that they wore instead of clothes. somebody raided the locker room as soon as the bombs dropped. some were hording food and other supplies, but somebody in this timeline made out like a bandit stealing shoulderpads and bike helmets.
there, not an earth shattering observation on my part, but, well, um, er, i just killed a few minutes of your life.
so there.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
the clay aiken Christmas, what layer of hell is that?
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
being on a team of superpowered beings would be all kinds of fun if there wasn't a telepath.
ahem. that's someone who can read minds and if necessary, talk inside your head.
let's use Jean Grey of the X-Men as our example.
it's very hard to control your thoughts, especially if someone tells you to make your mind completely blank.
the movie Ghostbusters makes a very good point at this. most people i tell to clear their mind do in fact think of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
so i know this about myself and i'm sure i can speak for others when i say that the first thought that pops into my head about most things is usually not the most pure of heart. that's why i enjoy that barrier that lies between my brain and my mouth called "inhibition."
if i was to hang out with a telepath, especially a female one, i would constantly be digging myself in deeper and deeper.
my thoughts might sound like:
"she's doing it again, isn't she? man! what did i do bad today that i'm not supposed to think about! HEY! BRAIN! N O T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT!"
"ok, don't stare at her...(blank), i said don't stare! look away! look at the floor! no stop! she knows! stop!"
"yeah, i know you're listening to my head! meow meow meow meow meow meow meow..."
so you can surround me with teammates who can shoot fire, turn into living steel or even a guy with claws, hairy back and an attitude. just don't put me on a team with someone who knows i'm not paying the least bit of attention when she's telling me about her day.
cuz chicks hate that.
ahem. that's someone who can read minds and if necessary, talk inside your head.
let's use Jean Grey of the X-Men as our example.
it's very hard to control your thoughts, especially if someone tells you to make your mind completely blank.
the movie Ghostbusters makes a very good point at this. most people i tell to clear their mind do in fact think of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
so i know this about myself and i'm sure i can speak for others when i say that the first thought that pops into my head about most things is usually not the most pure of heart. that's why i enjoy that barrier that lies between my brain and my mouth called "inhibition."
if i was to hang out with a telepath, especially a female one, i would constantly be digging myself in deeper and deeper.
my thoughts might sound like:
"she's doing it again, isn't she? man! what did i do bad today that i'm not supposed to think about! HEY! BRAIN! N O T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT!"
"ok, don't stare at her...(blank), i said don't stare! look away! look at the floor! no stop! she knows! stop!"
"yeah, i know you're listening to my head! meow meow meow meow meow meow meow..."
so you can surround me with teammates who can shoot fire, turn into living steel or even a guy with claws, hairy back and an attitude. just don't put me on a team with someone who knows i'm not paying the least bit of attention when she's telling me about her day.
cuz chicks hate that.
