Thursday, May 31, 2007


Wednesday, May 30, 2007


I just had a phone conversation. In it, I heard a phrase that I think just might be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

"I had a retard sitting next to me at the hockey game, and then I had a retard sit next to me at the restaurant. Luckily, the retard at the hockey game was totally cool."

Moments like this are why you keep certain friends.

Here's where you can volunteer to help the Special Olympics.

Friday, May 25, 2007


I don't know anything about horses. I know they measure them in hands, they usually get a phrase, not a name, and that you can bet on them and lose your money faster than the time it takes to understand what the hell a trifecta even is (it basically means you lose three times the money. It would help if they'd've spelled it with a "u" {need a minute for that one?}.) Anyway, that's about it for me and the horsies.

And maybe it's all copacetic in horse world, but a horse walking down my street is news to me.

There goes horsie. Looks like Ed Flanagan from this view.

Then he stops here.

This reeks of a used car sale. The buyers are striking an evaluative stance for sure. Hands on the hips, hands on the mid-to-lower back. Looks like some speculating. What the hell - are gas prices that bad?

Don't know what this conversation was all about, or what these people are thinking, but back up about 15 years or so and I could definitely tell you what they were thinking. It went like this:

"Okay, so that's about $20k in labor and about $60k in materials to build your home, plus trim of course."
"No - no trim."
"Well, I just mean simple shutters and things like a street number, etc."
"No - no trim. See honey, that's how they get you. You get the thing all priced out how you want it and wham! - out come all the extras. Well we're not falling for it. No trim!"
"Okay sir, but stairs or some way to get i..."
"Hey, you wanna build my house or not? Because I've had it with the upsell."

Not so sure how that place ever even got sided. Had to be one smooth talking salesman.

Anyway, they took a pass on horsie once they found out he needed a saddle.

Art or Junk Revisited

I think I got this one; it's junk.

I don't know - maybe art.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Yer Bagels

If your bagels don't look at least a little like this, you're getting the wrong ones.

Montreal never did much for me, but they have figured out how to make these little round breads. Some might even call them "Montreal-style bagels" but that just sounds like fancy talk to me.

If you don't have some rotund Canadien with two spent shoulders slicing, rolling, and working on a lifetime ERA of over two-million bagels (every one he makes is a home run, eh?), you might be missing out on something. Also, your bagel maker should be a NASCAR or Speed Metal fan.

If you can't see fire somewhere near (preferably right near) where your bagels are made, you may not actually be eating bagels. That cup there? Yup. Those are sesame seeds. Not for the bagels; for the fire. Try it sometime. Cheap entertainment that also smells good. A rare combo if ever there was.

Finally, if your "bagels" don't spontaneously leap off the long wooden plank (despite your baker's attempt to grab it back) in an orgasmic burst of intense bagel flavor and land on top of all the other bagels to form one huge lesbian bagel orgy, then you are in the wrong place. You have probably just been eating round-ish bread. Perhaps it is even a donut.

Notice the Link

The Fab Faux, while still an active and really good band, seem to have lost their website, so I updated my links. They had a good message board going there, so long as you kind of liked the Beatles, or any late 60's / early 70's actual "rock" music (Powder Finger, Misty Mountain Hop, White Room, etc.) since it also served as the message board for kick ass cover band "Prisoners of 2nd Avenue".

But now it's all done, so this means the links at the right have changed and my cousin Joe gets a plug. Joe's scene is pure metal.

We now return to our regularly scheduled griping.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Art or Junk?

You decide.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Boring (for you!)

Oh, don't worry; I've got lots of stuff to complain about, and I'll get back to that real soon. I promise.

I'm all about the photos lately. Sorry. Deal with it.

I bought a little $15 accessory for the new camera. Turns out, if you take the lens off your camera, turn it around and put it on backwards, it works like a magnifying glass. For some reason, when most people discover this they immediately run out and take a picture of either a coin or a flower. Do I get credit for at least taking a picture of a dead flower? No? Well here's my live one, then.


Requires a whole lotta light and a very steady hand (or a decent tripod - which I don't own.) Okay. Enough with these boring, tired old images we've all seen hundreds of times already. (Except for that first one - I kind of like that.)

I know, I know. Sometimes it's hip to like old things just because they're old, but sometimes old things really are hip. While people move to digital cameras, there are all kinds of used medium-format cameras out there, and they make pictures that look incredible - far beyond what a digital camera could do. You'd need at least 30 megapixels and some very expensive glass to get similar results in a digital camera. So, it's a buyer's market, and the cameras are awesome.

Yeah, my new camera is a wicked pissah, but I'm really jones'n for some vintage medium format action.

Check it...

Sweet, huh? Something like that looks cool just sitting on your shelf.
Forget it though, because people know this and a Rolleiflex is priced accordingly. Just forget it.

Always wanted one of these, though.

Oooh... A Hasselblad. All Swiss and whatnot. It's the camera that went to the moon (Right. Like that ever really happened.)

I just saw one with a couple of scratches on the lens go on the eBay for $450. That was a good deal, actually. Still hard to justify at this particular point in my life. Maybe sometime. My choice is the simple 501c (in chrome, as pictured above) should you ever decide to jumpstart my collection for me. Thanks.

Til then, it might have to be one of these...

The Kowa/SIX, which you can get for about $150 and the picture quality is still about 100x better than any affordable digital camera. Yup, you'll take fewer shots and you'll have to buy and develop film, but with a medium format camera like this, you're eventually going to get an image that looks great and means more to you than any piece of art you could buy.

That's what I want hanging on my wall.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Early Dismissal

I couldn't just write a note, huh? See - I think stuff like this is why people hate me.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007


It rained like Hell today. Sucks, but it at least presents an opportunity to take some photos of the backyard in all its sexy, mid-May lushness, as is the wont of chlorophyl at this time of year. Come on. Seriously - May is the best month, no? Yes.

So I'm shooting away, pretending that things are interesting (as is my wont)...

and pretending there might be some kind of point to shooting all these things

Look closer; there isn't. But the tone is kind of nice I guess.

And along comes an all-too-familiar thud.

Say, what's the splotch on the window there?

Oh, right. More wildlife mistaking my home for theirs. That's a window there, birdie. Sorry about that. And sorry about your concussion, too. Good luck finding which way is south in a few months.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

CSI: Mouse

Those bizarre noises from the other night? Yeah. Not solved after all.

You know, just a few days ago I was sitting myself in a chair in plain view of the rest of the room. Pretty sure I saw something. The plant moved. I thought I saw something making a break for it. I decided to just focus on why the plant moved. It was an ivy kind of thing and I just figured one of the stems musta fell. Also, you know what? I really don't feel like dealing with a damn mouse right now. Let's just ignore it, pretend it was nothing, and go back to trying to decide whether or not Cuddy is hot. Unsure, really.

So the noise comes back a few days later. We had all just gone to bed so it was pretty quiet around here, which means that this time everyone heard it. Dammit. No getting around it; the slacker approach had officially run its course. Time to meet the mouse.

He was camping out under the stove and chewing on something - which is not good. There are three things to chew under there. One is a vent - no big deal. The other two choices are the natural gas and 220V lines. If the mouse decided that any particular leg of a 220V line looked like a decent snack, and he took a decent chomp, the ensuing voltage would pop him like a balloon. Cool - except for the mess and the rewiring. If he decided to snack on the flexible gas line, well, you're reading this, so obviously he didn't.

How dumb are mice? Yeah, the gas line is yellow, but fuckin'-A...
Éste no es queso there, Topo Gigio.

OK, whatever. Let's get right to the police report.

Crime scene 1
After an unsuccessful reach-and-grab, suspect moved from under stove to behind refrigerator.
Suspect was then cornered by the refrigerator and appeared temporarily transfixed by the flashlight shining directly in its eyes.

While Officer B. held suspect at bay with mezmerizing and beautiful light, Officer in Command (OIC) procured weapons for disposal of suspect.

Crossman "Medalist" model 1322, .22cal pump-action pellet gun
Crossman .22cal "Super Pells" lead pellets (175 count)
"Cracker Barrel" brand sharp white Cheddar cheese

In order to minimize collateral damage and personal injury to the OIC (Officer B. already being well out of the line of fire), and due to the lack of familiarity with the firepower of a weapon which the officer had not fired since his early teens (and at anything other than army men during that time) and recalling that the weapon did pack a pretty good punch, and also taking into account that he would be firing indoors, a three-pump round was fired into the corner behind the refrigerator, directly at the suspect.

The round remained intact. The lack of use of appropriate firepower would prove pivotal.

After a brief period of what the OIC described as "some freaking out" the suspect ran around to the living room and holed up under some furniture. An immediate search was ordered. At this point, the suspect's status is switched to "perpetrator".

Examining the scene of the shooting, officers observed a small trail of blood leading from the scene of the shooting.

Perpetrator is clearly injured

A positive visual ID is then made of the perpetrator.

The officers again employed the use of the bright and mesmerizing flashlight and remained in a standoff for sometime with flashlight fixed on the perp, waiting for him to "bleed out". The wait was significant, and the perp remained surprisingly nimble despite the obvious injury to his left rear leg.

Several minutes of chasing the perp from one end of the room to the other ensued, but to no avail. The search effort was then escalated.

Crime scene 2

As other implements were incorporated into the search (broom, medium sized towel) officers finally devised a plan involving a fireplace poker and and a 1.5qt Tupperware brand plastic bowl.

As the perpetrator jockeyed back and forth between a large radiator and a 10" powered subwoofer, the officers were able to trap said perp under the 1.5qt Tupperware brand bowl.

I got you, you little fucker!

At this point, a piece of poster paper and phone book were procured to assist in the removal and ultimate release of said little fucker. Officer B. was reluctant to give up poster paper, claiming, "I don't know. I hate to waste a whole sheet on a mouse." OIC noted, "Well, it's for science."

The following photo is included because OIC believes he looks a bit like Elvis in it.

OIC would like to note that he does not in fact have muttonchops or live in a particularly well-defined "ghetto".

The perpetrator was then removed from the scene and taken to a nearby path, approximately 100yds. away. The bowl, poster board and phone book assembly was dropped on the ground.

Well... do something.

Perpetrator eventually climbed his way out to freedom or certain death. Whichever came first.

Case closed at 12:01AM

Friday, May 11, 2007

No You Can't Live Here


Look, I had the garage door open all of like two seconds, and this furry-ass little pecker comes waddling in, makes a bee-line for the useless junk in the corner and just parks it. Little shit. Pretty uncool of you to mock my inability to keep a clean garage. People just keep giving me stuff. What am I supposed to do? I don't ski or snowboard, but damn it all, I've got 'em both should I ever get the urge to strap on old gear that doesn't really work or fit quite right.

Yeah, so in runs this dorky little furball and I'm sitting there thinking it's probably pretty easy to scare away. I'm also hoping it's some explanation for the bizarre noises I heard the other night. Still haven't quite put my finger on that one.

Reasoning with it didn't work. Approaching the corner with a calm voice and saying, "Dude, you're gonna have to leave. Can't stay here at aaalllll" totally didn't work. Shouting "Beat it!" - also no go.

Next up - superball. I figured the zany bouncing around action would startle the thing out of there. Nothing.

Alright. Let's amp it up to a baseball. A nice, friendly thud with one of these should be all it needs, right? No. Fuzzy don't really seem to care.

Wow. Ski pole? Let's give that a try. Gave it a good prod, but it didn't care for the looks of the rest of the garage so it doubled back and decided to have a grab at the pole. Are you serious? What kind of balls does this thing have?

Alright. Screw this. Where's the goddamn grass rake?

Right. Done and done. Don't mess with the Agway 14 tooth, steel ferrule, 66-inch Model 457. Suck on that you squirrelly bitch. Now git! And away the little turd did run.

Okay, now before you call the ASPCA or Dr. Doolittle or Kentucky Fried Chicken or whatever, understand that I am trying to live with all the wildlife I've got around my little urban animal haven. I know I've said that I didn't want kitty in my house. I know I have previously cheered on the killing of certain snakes (seriously, just the assholey ones.) I know we have a massive skunk problem in my neighborhood and I am currently exploring my options in that area, but I will not be branded a wildlife-hater.

Check it...

I let a robin build her nest on top of my porch light. She spent a couple days gathering weeds and junk to put this bitch together. It's not like she just slapped it up when my back was turned. It made a freakin' mess out of my porch, but I was cool. It's a daily inconvenience to me because I can't open the door without this little thing freaking out and flying off as such...

...only to show up 15 secs. later on the power line, chewing my ass out and threatening to swoop down and pull a goddamned vein out of my neck. "Christ, bird. I'm just gettin' the paper here. You're the guest. Why don't you try acting like one. I'm not going to eat your babies. Don't be such a fucking ingrate."

I tried, vis-a-vis the repeated sweeping away of pre-nest gatherings, to give the hint to this bird that this may not be the best spot for it, but she kept after it and I just let her take it. I'm so feeble with the ladies.

And the mailman ain't so cool on the whole thing either, but I suffer through this every time I need to use the front door. And for what? More birds? Fine. Whatever. But the fucking garage is mine.

Thursday, May 10, 2007


Look, Honey - If I'm not the problem, then why is getting rid of me the solution?

Here's a tip: After you've brought a couple kids into the world, it's not really about you anymore anyway.


Tuesday, May 08, 2007


In an attempt to bring balance - this post:

When making a peanut butter and jelly sangwich, don't think of it as peanut butter and jelly at all. Think of it as jelly and peanut butter.

That's right! Spread the jelly first. You'll be able to get almost all the jelly off the knife just by wiping the knife on the bread. Then you have a clean knife to stick in the peanut butter jar!

Remember: It's a jelly and peanut butter samich!

Monday, May 07, 2007

How Totally Convenient!

Just a point of information: Wheelchair-bound individuals require additional space adjacent to a parking spot. This additional space is for the wheelchair lift that carries them in and out of the van. The extra space is not motorcycle parking. The proximity of curb cutouts to handicap spaces should serve as some indication to the keen and perhaps slightly less self-centered observer.

Thank you. Sorry I kicked your bike over.

Friday, May 04, 2007

You Might Be A Pessimist If...

It's full - but it's mostly air.

: How did she do?
OTHER GUY: Not that good. She got a very soft hit right back to the pitcher who threw her out.
GUY: Well, at least she made contact. That's what counts.

Okay - we'll just stop it right there. That's plenty enough to go on.

What's going through GUY's head?

"I'll make him feel better by putting a positive spin on this news" ?
"Anything that isn't obviously good news is upsetting to me, so I'll say something positive to put myself at ease" ?

Actually, it turns out to be a combination of both. GUY might have a problem in that he really can't deal with anything that might considered bad news so he kind of sticks his head in the sand about it. GUY could probably use some real optimism; bad news isn't always that bad and doesn't always connote crisis. Still, that's his own issue. It's that first option that OTHER GUY just might have a problem with here, too.

As far as OTHER GUY is concerned, a simple question was posed and a pretty straightforward answer was given. OTHER GUY has an expectation somewhere along the lines of, "Oh ,that's too bad" or "Not so good, huh? Oh well." Instead, he gets a pretty lame attempt at optimism. It's pablum at best.

What's the problem with that? Well, doesn't it sort of imply that OTHER GUY isn't capable of seeing the positive side unless it's pointed out? Doesn't it kind of say, "Well, it's not so bad. You just need to look at it this way" as if people need your awesome help?

Maybe OTHER GUY just answered a question, and isn't all that broken up about it anyway. Maybe the whole thing isn't such a big deal that it even warrants much reaction at all, much less the trite optimism born of your insecurity.

OTHER GUY could probably take it a step further and take offense to the implication that he must be a pessimist. He could even overreact and say some things that he probably should best just lay off, but he's had this same conversation like, forever, and I guess tonight he just thought of a new way to react right there on the spot. Someone might even end up spending the night on the couch or something. I don't know. I'm just saying this could all seriously deteriorate.

Maybe OTHER GUY didn't overreact. Not even later, when someone was feeding GUY's kid your daughter's dinner. I mean, GUY ain't exactly on food stamps if you know what I'm sayin'.