I I whooooaaaaaa i'm still alive

yeah, not a whole lot to report.

school's in now, so that's pretty much taking all my time. nothing super interesting going on.

holy moly, it's been almost a month

i'm sorry.

i'm still alive.

i'm not sorry i'm still alive, just sorry i haven't updated lately.

yes, i realize the amount of ego it takes to write that, since one who would write such a thing must assume you care that it's been several weeks since an update.

how is viagra like disney world?

you have to wait an hour for each 5-minute ride.

more later. keep the faith.

avoid the clap,
jimmy dugan

Thinkin' 'bout leavin' tomorrow

the next reader contest i have will be "Name that Blog."

we sold the house (assuming appraisals and all that shiznonsense) this weekend. the buyers want to close within two weeks, so there are very few dispatches left to be sent from the northshore.

we'll be living in kenner for a while until we get the house built in metairie.

dear reader, it's up to you to decide what the blog will be renamed. Here are a list of things that will not be considered as possible replacement names.

-I'm 27 and Live with My In-laws

well, actually, that's about it.

winner will get to write the first entry for the renamed (and maybe redesigned) blog. leave your suggestions in the comments.

She turned me into a newt!

Several things have caught my eye media-wise today:

Check out this sentence from a story about a guy named Samuel Clemens doing a painting on the side of a hill.

Artist Samuel Clemens, not to be confused with the author of the same name, is at it again.

Man, I'm glad they cleared that up. Because if i saw that there was something going on in Newport, Oregon, written in the present tense about Samuel Clemens, i would have immediately assumed they were talking about the guy who's been dead for nearly 100 years.

And you all know how much zombie painters freak me out. I probably would've had a panic attack or something.

Nothing in my life has prepared me for the possibility that sometimes people have the same name...

...i got a chuckle this morning watching ESPN and seeing this appear at the bottom of the screen. "Adam 'Pacman' Jones to turn himself into authorities"

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, i will now asexually reproduce exact replicas of myself, each of whom will attend and graduate from the police academy...

...And, finally (i hope), this story tells of a girl who had a cable lop off both her feet when a ride at Six Flags broke. Check out two of the quotes from witnesses.

"When I got up there, the lady she was just sitting there, and she didn't have no legs."

"I seen the car go up. Then, like, the cable broke, I heard -- pwchh -- and I heard a lot of people screaming," Chris Stinnett, who was at a ride next to the Superman Tower of Power, told WDRB/WMYO.
"The cable went under the car -- and I seen it pull up and hit a lot of people -- and I seen them bring their legs up," Stinnett said.

For any current/potential journalists out there, i want to use these as an example. (disclaimer: i think there's a better than average chance the story was transcribed from a television story, so there may have been nothing to be done about the quotes.)

But if you should find yourself writing a story and you have very helpful sources, don't make them look stupid. I know, technically, you're supposed to quote people exactly. But would it have really done any harm to say "the cable went under the car -- and i saw it pull up and hit a lot of people -- and i saw them bring their legs up."

again, this is merely an example. i'm not faulting the writer here - unless it isn't a story transcript. in which case, i am faulting him or her.

Douchebaggery with a passport

I excused myself to go play online poker (sadly, of the "play money" variety) last night so courtney could watch matt lauer interview the prince people.

while i was playing, i heard lauer say something along the lines of "...talking to your mates at the pub..."

yes, i can just picture Matty Crewcut picking up that bit of dialect quite naturally in greenwich freaking connecticut. i'm sure all his "mates" at the "pubs" talk like that in new england.

freaking assclown.

Come witness the violence inherent in the system

(if you don't like when i talk sports, skip to the next section)

I'm flabbergasted.

There was a great college baseball game between Cal State Fullerton and UC-Irvine yesterday that went 13 innings.

In the bottom of the last inning, the Irvine lead-off man ducked his shoulder into a pitch that was maybe half an inch off the inside corner and the ball grazed off his sleeve (i think it was the third time he had been hit by a pitch in the game).

He quickly tossed the bat away and headed to first base. And then the strangest thing happened -- the umpire let him keep going.

Irvine eventually ended up scoring a run to win the game (as is the case a great deal of the time when you get the leadoff man on with nobody out).

The Fullerton coach got tossed for arguing the call, as was his responsibility, but i believe it would have taken security to get me off that field. The home plate umpire should never call another World Series game (fyi: i was actually pulling for Irvine before that play).

What baffles me even more is that the ESPN story about the game doesn't even mention the play (looks like CNNSI.com ran the same AP story).

***

To answer Ryan's question from yesterday's Father's Day massacre, my eyes are fine, but my face is a little redder than normal.

***

Book review time. I have to premise this by saying that I bought this book before I realized it was an Oprah book club book.

I'm like the literary equivalent of an indy music snob, i like just finding books to read instead of picking up what everyone else is getting (although i certainly read my share of authors like King and Grisham). I basically spend 20 minutes cruising through bookstores judging books by their covers/titles. It's how I discovered such gems as Like the Red Panda by Andrea Seigel and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon; although by this point i'm pretty sure both books have long surpassed the status of "seth's secret treasure" by the reading public.

Any who, what i'm ultimately trying to say is that while I was judging The Road by Cormac McCarthy by its cover, I somehow managed to miss the big ass Oprah sticker on front. Mea culpa...

The novel is about a father and son trying to find someplace warm after what can best be described as the end of the world. We never find out what ultimately precipitated the widespread death of plants and animals and humans and wambats and orangutans and breakfast cereals, nor do we learn why the man and boy survived the event. But the two travel many miles by foot through through snow and ashes, trying to survive.

Let's go to the scorecards:

Plot: 4.5
Not a whole lot to say here. Aside from not knowing what exactly the beginning is, there is a beginning, middle and end. Action progresses nicely throughout the novel.

Comedic Relief: 3
There really isn't any that i recall. but i'm not giving it a zero because i'm not sure there was actually any room for humor.

Ending: 4
how to put this...the ending tells you everything you need to know about the story of the man and his son. I think it also gives you a little more info without completely killing the mood of the rest of the book. Can't really say anymore without ruining it for you.

Je ne sais quoi: 4
McCarthy does a great job of telling the story and letting the reader know how hopeless the situation is without wasting a word. I would have liked a little more background, but that's likely the point--it doesn't matter how whatever happened happened, it's just a situation you either deal with or you don't.
There are also several times I would read a sentence and think "what a great sentence. I'm glad i wasn't the one who wrote this book, because i never would have thought to write that."

Final score: 15.5

Encyclopedia Brown and the Case of the Chocolate Boogers

I literally ate until I puked yesterday.

To understand the full story, we need to go back a bit.

About a month ago I was in Minden for my sister's graduation and went to the doctor. When I got weighed, I tipped the scales at 207.

There is absolutely no way for someone my height to gracefully carry around 207 pounds, so i decided to lose some weight.

I got serious about it a couple of weeks ago. Aside from spending time on the treadmill everyday, i was dodging the urge to snack by eating small meals more often.

Oatmeal for breakfast around 8 or 9. A sandwich at 11. At 1 p.m., a sandwich and some fruit. A couple of hours later, one of those healthy fruit cereal bars. Then a normal dinner at night and maybe some fruit before bed after my run.

Despite history telling me it wasn't going to happen, I decided that i was going to maintain that discipline when i went to courtney's folks' for Father's Day.

I made myself drink a couple of bottles of water before I had my first beer. Then I would rotate between beer and water.

But then the food happened.

It started out harmlessly enough with a quick bite of spinach dip. But then I kept eating it. Then i had a few bites from a couple of other different appetizers.

Then there was a break. Then the real food came.

I went into the kitchen to make my plate. I looked at my plate, then looked at all the food in front of me.

"This is going to be a two-plater, i believe," I told Courtney's uncle.

"yep."

So i take a little potato salad, and a little corn casserole, and a spoonfull of barbeque beans, and small piece of sausage, and a chicken breast and a couple of ribs and a piece of bread and go outside to eat.

Everything was delicious. Courtney's dad recommended i try a chicken leg. So after finishing my plate, i went inside, planning on getting a chicken leg.

Courtney is in there at the same time i am, and sees me pass up the corn casserole she made in favor of more barbeque beans. She guilts me into adding the corn to my plate. I grab a chicken wing and somehow manage to talk myself into three more ribs and another piece of bread (my guess is the beer was working harder than the water at this point).

Somehow i manage to finish off everything, but am not a very happy camper (despite the delicious food).

I sort of exist for a little bit. just hanging around not doing much of anything, although i'm pretty sure i'm going into shock.

Then they bring out the gelato.

I'm about halfway through a beer when they start serving. Mmmm, beer and ice cream. I was not happy.

Despite much of the day being a blur, i remember very clearly what i was thinking as courtney and her mom were passing out dessert. and i still don't understand how it could so obviously conflict with the rational side of my brain.

"ooh, I want a waffle cone because it's bigger, and she better put gelato in the whole thing and not just one scoop on top of the cone."

Ask and ye shall receive.

I knew about 20 seconds in that it was not in my best interest to finish the entire cone. I knew 12 seconds in that i was, in fact, going to eat the entire cone.

Shortly after finishing it, I walked inside and ran into courtney.

"what are you doing?" she asks.

"Pretty sure I'm going to throw up."

She says something dismissive, and i lie down on the living room floor. Not a good idea.

I get back up quickly and walk into the bathroom downstairs. I hung out there for a second, and decided that i didn't want to hurl where everybody was using the bathroom. So i scurried upstairs.

I paced around the bathroom for a bit, with no action beyond the occasional burp. I went and sat outside the bathroom and zoned out for about 10 minutes. Then i try lying down, and rediscover that changing positions is not good for the ol' stomach.

Courtney comes and finds me.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to throw up."

At this point, most people would want to throw up just to feel better. I, however, do not have that luxury.

When I throw up, it's violent. I'm talking burst-blood-vessels-in-my-face-and-eyeballs violent. People usually can't stand to look at me for a couple of days after i puke because my eyes are bloodshot and i look like i have a rash on my face.

It had been almost 3.5 years to the day since the last time I had thrown up. It was after my college graduation party. I'm pretty sure it was either caused by a bad appetizer or the Crown on the rocks i was double fisting through most of the party.

I was doing everything in my power to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

I went back outside and took a seat.

Someone else had arrived at the party and i stood up to shake his hand, getting woozy in the process. He then lifted the lid to the trashcan to throw away his plate and i got a big whiff of barbeque sauce.

Good night nurse.

I try not to make a scene and double-time it into the house. Courtney follows me in.

Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?Whatareyoudoing?

Without looking back i just snap my fingers. My little way of saying, yes, i hear you, but if i open my mouth the next sound you hear will most definitely not be English.

I make it upstairs, open the toilet and ralph something that looked like half-digested chocolate ice cream. I don't know if that's a simile or not, since it really was half-digested chocolate ice cream.

Courtney, ever faithful, comes into the bathroom. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just threw up. Wasn't so bad, don't think i broke anything in my face."

She takes a look and agrees. Then a second wave hit.

"Um, you might want to leave."

Then second round was a little more like i was used to. Including one of those things where you spasm and the next batch comes up while you're still puking the first batch, so it's like you're throwing up two different throw ups at the same time.

I have one last barf--this one was splattery--then try to start cleaning up.

Courtney comes in.

"man," i say, "I don't think i could handle having an eating disorder."

Then I stand up. And i feel great.

"Wait, I think i could handle an eating disorder. This is awesome."

Of course, I had the usual post-vomit breathing problems. so i grab a kleenex to try to clear stuff out.

I take a look and the kleenex is brown. How cool is that?

"Sweet, chocolate boogers. Hey, Courtney, look, i've got chocolate boogers."

And they all lived happily ever after.

Restring all your guitars and pack up all your stuff

i completely forgot that i read a third book a couple of weekends ago.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max

This won't get the standard review because it's unlike anything else you'll read.

basically, self-professed womanizing, alcoholic asshole tells all his best stories.

the stories where he lets his actions speak for themselves are hilarious. There were a few times on the plane i had to put the book down or hand it to Michael because i was going to make a scene.

Sometimes though, he resorts to a "listen to how funny I am" narrative that just doesn't work. As i've mentioned before, it's hard to like someone who laughs at his own jokes.

For example, when he throws a fat girl's clothes out his bedroom window so he won't have to introduce her to his friends it's hilarious. when he talks about how funny it was to make fun of a fat girl at a party, it wasn't so funny. Not because it was mean, but because what he was saying wasn't funny. (Sort of like how the why did the chicken cross the road joke is not funny, but not because its mean.)

check out some of the stories at his web site.

***

Ok, i'll now break the rule i just complained about and laugh at my own joke...

A while back i had to write about a musuem closing its egypt exhibit for renovations. My headline:

Caulk like an Egyptian

***

I broke a string on my guitar the other day trying to tune it. I don't know why i was tuning it considering i don't know how to play it.

***

and now, why i love reno911:

Reno 911! - New Boot Goofin'

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Take me back to New Orleans and don't call me anymore

Well, got the first schematic drawings of the new house. really like them.

Went over them this weekend to tweak some things and we're meeting with the engineer tomorrow to discuss our suggestions.

Optimistically hoping to be in the house by June or July of next year.

Had a couple of nibbles on our house now, but nothing real serious...

...I'm about halfway through with my weekend recap. should be done any day now...

...I've actually been showing some will power in my quest to lose weight. running everyday and eating smarter. Don't think the pounds are melting off just yet, but hoping for a noticeable difference in a couple of weeks...

...Saw Knocked Up this weekend. It's about a surgical intern at Seattle Grace Hospital who gets pregnant after a drunken night celebrating a promotion to become an on-air personality for E!.

Very, very funny movie. Slow at a couple of parts, but otherwise a lot of fun.

I'm trying to think of the last movie i saw that was this funny. I guess whichever came out later, Anchorman or Old School. Of course, I'm sure I'm forgetting one, so feel free to remind me in the comments.

But i give it an 8 out of 10.

[Edit: Upon further review, probably funniest movie since first 2/3 of Wedding Crashers]

You think Rockford Files is cool

Much like I always do in my actual work, I have grossly underestimated how much time it will take me to complete my recap of my weekend in Pittsburgh and Boston. So i'm changing my arrival date from "yesterday or today" to "uh, whenever."

But keep the faith, friend(s?), it will happen.

So let's do some reviews of my in-flight reading. I'm introducing a new scale, since i don't think my 1-10 was very consistent.

It's now a 20-point scale, with four, five-point categories. Here's how it breaks down:

Plot: Is there one? any obvious holes or generally unbelievable parts beyond what is acceptable in a work of fiction?

Comedic Relief: This has two incarnations. For heavier themed books, it's the unexpected laughs. For lighter reads, it's the laugh out loud parts beyond the general whimsy of the story.

Ending: A bad ending ruins books for me. it doesn't have to tie everything up nicely, but if there some unanswered questions, there needs to be enough there for me to figure it out on my own.

Je ne sais quoi: All the stuff i don't know how to categorize. Will also serve as a tool for me to adjust scores that seem too low or too high after the first three categories.

And away we go

Hit Parade by Lawrence Block

The third in a series of novels about a stamp-collecting hit man named Keller. The first two were excellent and quite funny. This one?

Plot: 2.5
I guess there was technically a plot, but it read more like a series of short stories. Way too much referencing to past events in the book, like he was trying to catch the reader up on what had happened previously. Wouldn't be so bad if he weren't trying to catch you up on something that happened 10 pages ago.

Comedic Relief: 4
The book as a whole is a fun read, but not a ton of belly laughs. Probably could give a lower score, but want to make sure it gets credit for being consistently humorous.

Ending: 3
Nothing special, but it got the job done.

Je ne sais quoi: 3
The two main characters, Keller and his broker, are endlessly likeable, but i'm not sure how much farther Block can go with them. Wouldn't be surprised if this is the last Keller book.

Final Score: 12.5 out of 20

Music for Torching by A.M. Homes

Unhappy suburban couple sets their house on fire, successfully making it look like an accident. Family splits while repairs/upgrades are being made. Couple stays with neighbors while their two sons stay with different friends. The sort of weirdness that very few beyond Homes are able to conjure and keep things readable ensues.

Plot: 5
Reading it, i felt a lot like the characters: I knew i was going somewhere, i just didn't know where. And I most certainly didn't expect it to go where it went.

Comedic relief: 4
For as bizarre and frustrating as this book and its characters got, it was surprisingly funny.

Ending: 4
I was torn on how to score this. The ending didn't suit my preferences, but i think Homes had to end it like she did to stay consistent with the novel as a whole. The more i think about, the more i think she met the "at least give me enough to figure it out for myself" criteria. So this score is .5 higher than i originally had it.

Je ne sais quoi: 3
There's one subplot that I found a little hard to believe. It involved one of the sons and i just can't fathom how the couple missed what was happening. Ultimately, i think the point of the story was that the fact that they could miss it was the problem. blame my happy upbringing, i guess.

Final score: 16 out of 20
(read this book)

I ain't a morning person, but i'd be one if i could

I'm in the process of writing about my recent extended weekend in Pittsburgh and Boston. Hopefully I'll have it finished tonight or tomorrow.

I didn't get to work on it too much last night because it took me three and a half hours to get home from work.

I read a couple of books on the trip, but i'm just too tired right now to write any reviews.

Now i have to catch up on missed work.

and don't forget to give me back my black t-shirt

Best Starburst flavors, by wrapper color. Best to worst.

1.Orange
2.Pink
3. yellow
4. Red

Non-traditional starburst flavors are gross.

Courtney is taking part of the CPA exam today. she should be done any minute now.

I'm going on vacation at the end of next week. Going to see a Pirates-Dodgers game in Pittsburgh and two Yankee-Red Sox games in Boston.

While courtney was studying this week, i read To Feel Stuff by Andrea Seigel.

It was a very quick read with a pretty interesting plot. Sick girl lives in university infirmary. "Dates" a fellow patient. Sees ghosts.

Not a world changing read, but it was pretty darned good. hard to complain about a book i read in two days.

i give it a solid 7 out of 10.

Spatial comparison of goodness of starburst flavors by wrapper color.

Orange
Pink

Yellow



Red











nontraditional

Heeeeey, you've got to hide your love away

Just wanted to drop by and say hello.

Nothing too specific to talk about today.

Had some very weird dreams last night. one involved drunk driving, another involved rocket launchers and the third involved me playing the piano at a relative's wedding.

I don't remember much about the first (seems appropriate). In the second dream, i was trying to blow up this house and kill two people. but whenever i would shoot a rocket, it would go through a window or something and blow up a house across the street. Then one of the guys pulled out a machine gun and started shooting at me.

In the last dream i was sitting at a piano in church writing a song to play during the wedding. then i looked at the program and the couple had already picked out which song i was going to play. i went and asked my brother to play it for me because i couldn't read sheet music (the fact that i can't actually play the piano didn't appear to be a problem).

I guess that's about it for now. since i made my mom mad with the last video i posted, let's do something with less pointless violence and more pointless.

hmmmmm

Could you describe a slightly wrinkled shirt as "irony?"


wait....

think about it....

think about it.....

there.

now you get it.

funny, huh?

Everything has changed, absolutely nothing's changed

It's already been a long day.

I've been up since 3 this morning finishing up two stories due today. And by "due today" I mean "due yesteday." And by "due yesterday," I mean "one was due monday." But that's OK because i turned in another story monday. and by "But that's OK because i turned in another story monday" i mean "that's not OK because the story i turned in monday was due last friday."

Now i have the most boring assignment ever due to today. Yes, I've known it was due today for a month. but that's neither here nor there.

As you likely gathered from a couple of posts ago, I'll be leaving journalism in a few months. Within the next week or two I will sign a contract to teach English (and probably a couple social studies classes) at an all-girl Catholic high school in New Orleans.

Courtney and I are also moving to Metairie. We've put our house up for sale and are in processing of buying a lot on the southshore. There's a good chance we'll live with her parents for a while during construction.

We met with an engineer/architect guy and a builder/developer guy Monday to talk about the new house. It's stressful. It felt like when i bought my car and i was all like "i'm on a budget, tell me if i can't afford it" and the salesman was all like "you can afford it" and the sales manager was all like "you can't afford it" but i bought it anyway and now i owe about a gazillion more dollars on it than it's worth and i hate it even though it's a good car and i should've been happy to get it but i wasn't.

So now i'm interested to hear back from the drawer-of-plans man to see how many of our square feet get amputated.

Enjoy...

Bad Will Acting

Let's catch up on some reviews...

Read another one of The Dresden Files books, can't remember the name of it. Another solid effort, though.

In the middle of reading Filth, by Irvine Welsh (who also wrote Trainspotting).

This is, without a doubt, the most appropriately titled novel ever. It's a good read, but i don't know if i can finish it. if i do, you'll get a full review.

But let's talk television today.

Grey's Anatomy

Yeah, I watch Grey's Anatomy. Shut up.

Of late, the show has been slipping from the quality entertainment it provided in the first two seasons. But last night's episode was much better than the the last several installments.

I don't think it's a coincidence that since the episode centered largely on the interns being interns (having to take a test to stay in the program) it was a good show. I'm not a big fan of the soap opera stuff that has crept into the show and has dominanted it for most of this season.

Since next week's season finale will pretty much have to wrap up the soap opera stuff (except for the necessary cliff-hanger to bring you back for next season), i'd be willing to bet that last night's episode will prove to be the best of the post-merideth-drowning episodes (the shows before that are a little fuzzy at this point).

I give last night a 7 out of 10, but due to the relative lackluster performances of other episodes, i would probably bump it up to an 8 or 8.5 after the curve.

Traveler

I was pretty excited to see this show, it looked like it would be pretty good.

I made it about halfway through it before i had to change the channel.

The plot idea appears to be solid, but the acting is CHEEEEEEEEZY. Particularly the rich guy's son. Oh yeah, i should back up a bit.

Three friends from Yale grad school. Cross country trip. start in new york. friend one(Will Traveler) disappears. calls other friends. says "i'm sorry." museum they were in blew up. cops think other two friends did it.

needless to say, when friend number two (law school grad) calls the FBI, there's no record Traveler even exists. friend three (rich guy's son) wants to run.

i don't know what happened after that. I changed it after friend two evades authorities and ends up at girlfriend's apartment. (He lives at Yale, she lives in New York, conveniently located where he happens to be. the girlfriend also has no complaints that he had come to New York with absolutely no intention to visit her.)

he looks through her pictures and every one with Traveler in it, his face is covered. So instead of going to the police and saying "see that weird guy you say doesn't exist, we have all these pictures of him with his face covered, that's fishy," he just throws the pictures across the room.

Exit me.

I give it a 4 out of 10.

A womb with a view

i was a victim of a crime this morning.

A drive-by uterus.

I was walking into the kitchen at work to get my morning coffee and there, taped to the door, were pictures of some lady's uterus.

This is apparently some sort of female ritual. They get pregnant and they want people to see their insides.

In a society where you can't show boobies on television, it is perfectly acceptable to say "look, world, I vaginally ingested some semen and it stuck. now there's a baby inside me. please relish its fuzzy, gray cuteness."

If all matters of childbirth are so cuddly, how come you don't ever see people passing around pictures of their shit- and blood-covered c-section? "and heeere's them stacking my intestines on my chest to get to little Mable Claudine, who was the most precious mix of fetal-pig pink and snot."

Now if you are one of those people who enjoy seeing uterae (i'm assuming uterus is a female noun), more power to you. your friends' can keep their pictures in an envelope and ask if you want to see them. You can say yes.

As for me, I have no interest in such matters. See me in a few months when the baby is born, clean and wearing clothes.

and i'll look at all the pictures you have.

Just freakin shoot me

This is a picture a coworker took this weekend.


Yes, it's two dogs riding in a stroller.

Yes, the stroller was brought along for the said purpose of pushing a dog in it. No, there is no baby involved.

You should know that if i ever see one of you pushing a dog in a stroller, we can no longer be friends.

I say hey sky, s'other say I won say, I pray to J I get the same ol' same ol.

i gets a call a coupla weeks ago from some schoo' in n'awlins needin a English teacher and they's be all wonderin if i be feelin it. i's like "sho" so we meets in the principles office and talk and stuff and they be all like "we gown needja to teech a class make sure you widdit" and i's like "sho."

so i drops in wednesday all gettin my observe on and my teach on and afterward they be like "dizzam" cause i learned kids some grammah and some romantic poetry while i show my mad dry erase art skill'z in da hizzouse.

now we beez talkin bouts da possuhbility of me comin to da schoo' and teechin proffessional. and i thinks it prolly gonna happen cause i know the langwidge and should be passin tha nollidge on to the next generation.

so now me an the old lady be lookin to change are residents flip side ah the lake to be closer to her office and da schoo'.

i may be missin da jernalism afta while but i's not so sho since i ain't like them wack honkeys be givin me trubles when i just try be puttin food on tha table. bossman be treatin me aight, not lovin folks be dealin wit outside tha office.

really think i be fective at teechin and lookin foward too it. thinks i get me some good students who wants to get learned. cause chump don wan no help, chump don git no help. Jive ass dude don got no brains anyhow.

A truant finds home

There's change afoot. details available once they're declassified.

Is it fat in here, or is it just me?

had to go somehere yesterday and couldn't fit into my suit pants anymore. always a great way to start the day.

in unrelated clothing news, something has come aloose in the sole of my shoe and rattles around when i walk. i think this means i have to buy a new pair of shoes.

Let's do some reviews, shall we? I did promise lots if them, after all. Not much middle ground here, some real duds and a few great efforts.

*****

Meet Joe Black

I'm a big fan of otherworldy topics when done correctly (Dogma is by far the best to pull it off in movie form), so i thought Meet Joe Black might be worth the risk, despite the obvious chick-flick perils. i finally got a chance to watch it the other day when it came on tv.

Worst movie ever.

I'm all for temporary suspension of belief (or whatever the technical phrase for "just go with it" is in the world of fiction), but even in Pretendland, 1 + 1 has to equal 2.

Spoiler Alert

Take for example, the end of the movie when the daughter is talking to brad pitt and says "wish you could have known my father," an obvious reference to the fact that she knows her father is dead. Which means that her father's body is on the other side of the hill. So what does she do? she walks off with Brad Pitt back to the party, just leaving her dead father out there.

End Spoiler

That's not even the most exasperating flaw in the movie, just the easiest to explain. Oh wait, there is another one pretty easy to explain. I'll just call it the "i don't know what peanut butter is but i am intimately familiar with the detailed workings of the IRS" theme.

Anthony Hopkins is the only redeeming part of this movie.

Score: 3 out of 10

*****

The Devil's Apocrypha by John De Vito

What Dogma is to otherworldly movies, I, Lucifer by Glen Duncan is to books . I stumbled across the De Vito book when looking for something else by Duncan. I had enjoyed another book Duncan wrote and wanted to see what else was out there.

I decided to get The Devil's Apocrypha because it was fairly cheap. It's the creation story told by the losers, so to speak.

Worst book ever.

I made it through the forward, barely, where the author misspelled "lose" as "loose" twice. And on the offchance he meant to use the word "loose," he used it incorrectly. So i stopped reading it.

I will keep this book for the rest of my life because 1)I'm opposed to throwing away books, and 2) I'm even more opposed to giving someone else an opportunity to read this literary abortion.

Score: 0 out of 10

****

Solomon vs. Lord by Paul Levine

Ah, sweet relief. A funny courtroom novel that, despite being pretty long, never gets dull.

At parts it gets a tad predictable, but i always tell myself "if things didn't work out the way they did, the story wouldn't have been worth telling."

The pace and storytelling makes up for any predictability problems, and even though how the case will be solved becomes apparent, Levine doesn't give away what the resolution actually is too early. I actually wondered if he did it on purpose, sort of "hey, let me make the reader feel smart, and he'll be happy with himself and like the book more."

Score 8.9 out of 10.

****

Torpedo Juice by Tim Dorsey

Picture the funniest person you know simultaneously being on speed yet having the self control to sit down and write a book. That's Tim Dorsey, the endlessly funny creater of Serge Storms, the serial killer with a heart.

I can't remember exactly how many of Dorsey's books i've read, but you need to grab some of his stuff if you haven't before. If you like Carl Hiassen, you'll enjoy Dorsey.

The basic premise is Storms is a mentally unbalanced lover of all things South Florida. he is prone to knee-jerk obsessions and finding creative ways to kill the bad guys. In Torpedo Juice, he catches a guy robbing an elderly couple. Serge takes the robber, makes him swallow a handful of bullets then runs him through an MRI machine.

Lots of amusing characters and Dorsey's outlandish humor is outdone only by his mastery of subtle humor.

Score: 8.7 out of 10

*****

Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

Got this a couple of days before Vonnegut died after a coworker recommended it.

Very good. It's sort of about two people, but then it's also more about two characters in a book, but then again, it's more about the relationship between an author and his characters.

The sort of thing that's easy to see why people would lift Vonnegut up as an icon. It didn't completely knock my socks off, but it's definitely a case where the way the story is presented adds a ton to the story itself. brilliantly done.

I give it 8.5 *'s out of 10 *'s

*****

A note on the scoring.

You might notice that I've scored two books higher than another novel considered an all-time classic. This does not necessarily mean that the other books are better than Breakfast of Champions.

In an intellectual environment (which i tend to avoid) i would tell you that Breakfast of Champions is easily the best of the books i reviewed. Think of it like this, I know that Tom Brady is a better quarterback than Michael Vick, but i enjoy watching Vick more.

Capische?

This is how you remind me...of that last song you wrote.

make sure you have headphones on or are someplace where you can turn up the sound on your speakers.

Oh man...

took me two hours to get to work this morning, then the elevator skipped my floor.

going to be a long day.

and for the last item in yesterday's post, it also includes grammy awards, oscars, and recreational bowling--particularly Misty's recreational bowling.

It's like his thoughts are too big for his size

Well, i made it through Lent without drinking coffee or soft drinks (although i am having a bit of an internal struggle over whether or not my new fondness for tea violates the spirit of the season).

I also have to admit that i was pretty miserable failure as far as using the break from coffee and soft drinks as part of a larger effort to get in better shape. Despite the will power on the drink front, the shape i'm in is still "round."

Everybody's working for the weekend

I made my first appearance on film since the 10th grade at our staff meeting today. And, now that i think about, i might have been an off-camera narrator during our filming of The Crucible, so maybe today was actually my debut.

One of the people in charge wanted to make a video roasting a coworker who turns 40 today. My two brief appearances got some pretty hearty laughs. Luckily, my coworkers aren't really the Comedy Central types, and; therefore, did not realize that my schtick was pretty much, nay, WAS a direct rip-off of Stephen Colbert roasting Chevy Chase. I'll look for the Colbert video later.

There is another work-related development.

The office manager is setting up balloons and whatnot to welcome the new employee here. It really brings the memories rushing back from my first day here...

...when nobody even freaking remembered i was coming.

Can i tell you how much i love getting to work in the morning and reading "Welcome _____ to the _____ ______ Team!!!"? It's like a sweet little kick in the shins.

It's one of those things I'd like to bitch about to the supervisors, but i'm worried that it'll make me look shallow, bitter and pathetic. And I am not shallow.

Jesus shoots one-over at The Masters

This is one of those things i mentioned last week that i wanted to talk about but wasn't sure I'd get around to it. Luckily, something happened yesterday that made it relevant, so i figure i'd go for it.

Yesterday, Master's champion Zack Johnson thanked Jesus for helping him win The Masters.

I would like to address one common response to that sort of statement. "I think Jesus has more important things to worry about than a stupid golf tournament/touchdown catch/ game-winning sacrifice fly."

One quick caveat: This is purely a logic argument, i'm not in any way presenting my own personal views on theology.

Every smidgeon of religious teaching i have received is based in large part on the following arguments.

• God created all people and loves all people, even the assholes.
• God is all-powerful.

So, the naysayers are basically making one of the following two arguments.

• God blessed you with tremendous athletic abilities, but doesn't care what you do with it and isn't interested in taking any credit for it.
  
• God blessed you with tremendous athletic abilities, cares deeply about what you do with it, but frankly has his hands full right now, so don't bother crediting him in your post-game/tournament interviews. You selfish dick.

To say that God had nothing to do with a touchdown catch is to say that, "sorry, we are not all unique and loved equally by our creator." Certain things are trivial in the eyes of the God, and those things are to be decided by religious, non-sports fans.

I think the second argument is more disturbing because it implies that God is not all powerful. By making some things trivial, you are in essence saying that there is only a finite amount of attention God has at his disposal to give at any certain time.

The results of the Cinncinnati-Buffalo game in week 3 is exactly the type of thing God is concerned about, if the basic premises I've listed above are true. God loves the second string receiver and wants him to make the most of his natural abilities, and certainly on top of that, the big man upstairs wouldn't mind a little credit along the way.

Is ESPN smarter than a fifth grader?

I've got a lot to talk about.

Chances are it won't all make it into this entry. and there's also a very good chance i'll never get around to talking about what doesn't make the cut. But there's always hope.

Album Review: Pearl Jam Rearview Mirror

Probably the easiest review ever.

Ever since my two-disk Live from Verona, Italy Pearl Jam CD disappeared, I've been looking for a suitable replacement (since you can't find it anywhere anymore). Luckily, I stumbled upon Rearview Mirror the other day, a greatest hits album that I think has been out for quite some time.

It seems the clever folks who compiled the CD's decided to put the harder stuff on disk one (marked by an up arrow), with the slower stuff on disk two (down). This is endlessly convenient. Disk two is perfect for the morning commute when I'm tired, disk one plays best on the evening drive home, when i'm full of road rage and murderous intentions.

Here is the total song list.

If i had never heard Live from Verona, Rearview Mirror would easily land a perfect score. But I can't do it, since it just isn't as good as its live-venue counterpart.

I give it a 9.67 out of 10.

Speaking of reviews...

It's my birthday, my buh buh buh birthday

Thanks to a gift card i received for my birthday, i went on a massive book-buying spree online last night. I think i ended up with 12 or 13 books. I think only a couple of them were by people i haven't read before, and three or four of them are Dresden Files books, since i've fallen a bit behind on the series.

So once those books start trickling in, I should have plenty to write about. i also have a second birthday-related gift card for when i'm ready to reload.

Please leave any recommendations in the comment section. My typical rule of thumb is that i don't like to read anything if it's meant to make me smarter. I don't mind books making me think, but i'd rather that be a side-effect of a well told story.

ESPN sucks at geography and customer assistance

Baseball opening day, which was Monday, is a minor holiday for me. I'm always at work, wishing i could be in front of the tv experiencing all-day baseball. But since I've never actually had a chance to experience all-day baseball on opening day, I can only assume it's glorious.

The best I can do, usually, is to catch the later games. Well, Monday, ESPN 2 was showing the Texas Rangers versus the California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim which was being played in California.

And, for some reason, the game was blacked out at my house. So we called DirecTV (i was just going to call Tuesday morning, but Courtney picked up the phone and called Monday night). They said it was an ESPN decision and it had something to do with local broadcast contracts.

So I e-mailed ESPN yesterday, after reading this flippant FAQ answer about blackouts on their site:

Hey, it's a rare occasion when we want to watch anything else except sports on ESPN or ABC either! But we've got these things called contracts that obligate us to black out areas (determined by teams, leagues or conferences) in order to protect local and regional television commitments, and/or to protect ticket sales. So we've got to play by the rules and, if our contract calls for us to black out, show something else (generally, ESPNEWS) in your area when a local team plays in a nationally televised game, when they are playing either home or away.

But we've got these things called contracts...you know what, ESPN, bite my ass.

So, why am i blaming ESPN for this, when the answer clearly says they don't determine the black out areas? Because, frankly, i wasn't happy with the way they handled my inquiry. As I just mentioned, that answer sucks, so i e-mailed them and asked how living in New Orleans in any way qualifies me to be in the regional television coverage area of freaking Dallas (but i was nice about it, pointing out that it's no less than a seven-hour drive between the two places. i don't exactly face a daily dilemma of deciding whether or not to hop in my car and go catch a Rangers game).




I got an e-mail reply from them that basically said, "thanks for the e-mail, we probably won't answer it."

Since they won't tell me whose fault it is, since they're too busy being dicks, i will assume that it's their fault.

stupid jackasses.

One hundred thousand pesos? we do not have one hundred thousand pesos.

i hit 100,000 miles in my car this morning.

I'm in my car a lot, so it really wasn't much of a suprise that i was driving when the odometer hit 100000.

Too bad i wasn't at home when it happened, or i could have gotten a picture or something. but no, i had to be in the car. i've had the worst luck lately.

Actually, I'm having an OK week.

Courtney's folks got me an autographed Emeril's Delmonico cookbook for my birthday. So i'm going to try to fix some good stuff saturday while courtney is at work.

last time i made something that required any sort of effort i ended up dirtying every dish in the house. so hopefully she'll be home in time to clean up.

I want to hold you high and steal your pen

I think I might be a genius.

I made a magnificent discovery yesterday.

If you take a good song and randomly replace words in it with "poop," the song's even better.

Betterman by Pearl Jam

Poopin',
watchin the clock it's 4 o'clock
it's got to poop.

tell him.
poop no more, she practices her speach as
he opens the door, she rolls overs
pretends to poop as he looks her over

she poops and says she's in love with him,
can't find a betterman.
she poops in color she poops in red,
can't find a betterman.


Good by Better than Ezra

pooping around the house.
pooping behind the window and the door.
Searching for signs of poop but there's nobody home.

Well, maybe I'm just too sure.
Maybe I'm just too frightened
by the sound of it.
Pieces of poop fall down, but the pooper said,

Aha, it was good pooping with you.
Aha, it was good.
Aha, it was good pooping with you.
Aha, it was good.

***

Other than that, there's not much to talk about.
will spend my weekend working in the yard and watching basketball.
hope yours is equally exciting.

a badge of teenage film stars, hash bars, cherry mash and tinfoil tiaras

Watched Idiocracy last night.

I had big hopes for it, but it didn't pan out.

The idea is brilliant. Stupid people are reproducing faster than smart people.

Average 2005 person ends up in 2505 and wakes up as the smartest person alive.

Luke Wilson's character learns of his status after being arrested in the future and taking an aptitude test to see what his prison job should be. The question: If you have a five gallon bucket and a two-gallon bucket, how many buckets do you have?

Wilson is charged with saving a civilization whose academy award winning screen play is a movie called "Ass" and the top-rated show is "Ow, My Balls" on the Violence Channel.

Sounds funny right?

It should have been (with the added bonus of being relevant social satire, to boot). But the laughs were noticeably absent.

I give it a 6 out of 10. The idea is great, the execution in lacking. I'd watch it again without complaint, but probably not on purpose. Even though i didn't particularly like it, i still recommend giving it a shot if you haven't seen it yet.

I live in the Village, wherever I go I walk to. I keep my friends around so i have someone to talk to

Hi, everybody.

Work has been kicking my arse of late, which is the reason behind the extended absence.

SPOILER WARNING - I'm going to give a movie review lower down, so if you haven't watched The Departed yet, and plan to, you might want to skip it. I plan on ruining the ending in pretty specific detail.

Since we last talked, a number of things have happened. so i guess i'll just type whatever comes to mind.

First, I had a birthday.

Turned 27 on 02-27-2007. That should be all sorts of good luck or something. haven't won the lottery yet, though.

Daylight Savings Time is here. boo! exclamation mark.
radio signals suck when i leave the house and it's still dark, so i didn't get to enjoy my usual sports radio talk this morning. Maybe this is a sign that i should get satellite radio.

This also means the return of Working in the Yard season. We have centipede grass, which looks all brown and gnarly in the winter, but also means that i only have to mow seven or eight months a year.

So i have mixed emotions right now. I'm inherently opposed to performing manual labor, but there's also a pretty cool feeling when your yard looks better than your neighbors' and only marginally worse than the yard-obsessed people elsewhere in the subdivision.

The people we bought the house from were big-time green thumbs, which means our garden looks muy shitastic compared to how it looked a year and a half ago. so we're going to get rid of the high-maintanace stuff (those are easily identified by their prominent being-dead characteristics) and go with fewer plants.

I, actually, just want to pay people to take care of the garden, but courtney's too lazy to do that.

we went to Home Depot yesterday and bought some weed killin', plant diggin' up stuff, along with some waterhose roll-up thingies. some people down here call it a hose pipe, i call it a waterhose, mmhmmm.

Had some delicious crawfish from Sammy's in Baton Rouge and some very-good-but-not-quite-great crawfish from the Boiling Pot in Madisonville. If the Boiling Pot had potatoes and corn, it could have earned a higher ranking. they had some good flaor, but not eye-sell-shut spicyness that i like in a crawfish. Sammy's provided all the above.

***SPOILER ALERT***

Watched The Departed this weekend. Good movie.

Aside from the occasional "Ok, i guess i missed something" moments, my biggest problem with the movie is that I like there to be a clear winner, even if it's the bad guy.

After DiCaprio got plugged, I was rooting for Damon to get away with it.

When everybody ended up getting killed, i was kind of like "eh."

***END SPOILER***

So now, I'm just going to take up some space, so people who don't want to read the review, don't accidentally glance up and see something.

BEGIN POINTLESS SPACE TAKING-UPPING

Man, this is really considerate of me.

A lot of people wouldn't go through this much trouble.

But there's no length i won't go to for my friends.

A real saint, i tell ya.

END POINTLESS SPACE TAKING-UPPING

So, I give The Departed a 7.67 out of 10. I'd definitely recommend it. And i'd watch it again, but probably wouldn't buy it unless it was one of those 4 for $20 deals or something like that. But I also don't typically buy many DVD's. even the ones i really like.

When you're strange, faces come out of the rain

So i got an e-mail today asking me to bring back "Uneven Streets."

For the uninitated, that's an e-mail newsletter I started when i moved to Houma. One of several (three, i think) short-lived newsletters I've put out in my life.

My original answer was, "i'm already doing a blog, so that's the same thing."

But the more i think about it, the more i like the idea.

A once-a-week newsletter type.

could we see the return of "Ask Doctor Sweaty" or "Random-onium?"

Stay tuned.

No one's been sleeping in my bed, but my tennis racket smells like tuna fish

I thought I'd start off with some reader feedback today.

Hey, everybody, Ryan shops at the Gap! exclamation mark

Misty seemed slightly bothered that i season tuna steaks before i cook them. And i quote, "someone apparently doesn't appreciate the natural flavor of tuna steak. what a shame. what a shame."

Well, dangit, I'm not going to apologize. this isn't a case of overseasoning a steak, cooking it for an hour then drenching it A1. This is seasoning two sides and barely cooking it. There is still no doubt you're eating tuna.

Montie' is fasting for Lent which takes entirely more willpower than i could ever muster. It's only 8:30 and i've already had some chex mix, pringles, three cookies and two mini reese's peanut butter cups.

So i'm really rooting for her.

And did i mention Ryan shops at the Gap?

***

I think I'm getting glasses this weekend.

I have to renew my driver's license by Tuesday, and I don't think there's any way I can pass the eye test right now.

I've actually "had glasses" for about four years now. But people make fun of me, so one day i broke them (accidentally) and never bothered to get another pair. So it's been a couple of years since i've actually worn glasses.

And, yes, I would rather be a danger to myself and others on the road than hear another person tell me i look like a certain other person when i have glasses on. But, alas, there's nothing i can do.

Oh, wait, yes there is.

I'm going to get glasses. try to pass the eye test without them. and if that doesn't work, i'll just put them on to pass the test then break them.

Hamburgers, sodomy and Ash Wednesday traffic

Happy Ash Wednesday, or, as I like to call it, Return to Suck-Ass Traffic Day.

As you all know, Ash Wednesday celebrates the time Jesus got his ass stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the wedding at Cana, so he turned Lot's wife to ashes for acts of sodomy.

The devout Catholics in Baton Rouge relive the event by taking Monday and Tuesday (also known as Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras) off of work to attend elaborately themed recreations of history's first traffic jam (and the sodomy) in New Orleans. Then, they participate in a much larger recreation by driving into work Wednesday and making my commute farging miserable.

I haven't been struck by lightning yet, so let's move on to a less sacriligeous description of my commute this morning.

Ever throw a party and really bust your ass to make it great?

You spend all day in front of the grill or in the kitchen, just churning out plates and plates of tasty food. Then you finish and decide to reward yourself with a tasty hamburger and you realize that everything's gone except a half-eaten hotdog weiner?

That was my today.

I spent Monday and Tuesday grilling (at work...stupid bosses and their protestant work ethic) while everyone else was partying (that's actually not much of a metaphor, since they really were partying).

So Wednesday comes along and I'm driving to work and everyone is there, hovered around the food (I-12 and I-10). And I'm stuck in traffic for a half-hour longer than normal.

Is it really too much to ask that if i have to work when everybody is off, i should at least have OK traffic to drive in when everyone else decides to come back to work, too?

I have no idea where i was going with that...

...Despite probably punching my ticket to hell earlier this post, i will be attending Ash Wednesday mass tonight.

I'm giving up coffee and softdrinks for Lent and also making a renewed effort to get to the gym. this seems like the perfect opportunity to work on the fact that it grosses me out when i see my reflection.

I walk a lawn and i walk a lawn

Happy Mardi Gras.

Hope I'm the ony one who actually has to work today. although i'm sure those of you displaced in the northeast are probably trucking along as well.

i have chili on my crotch. i got it washing dishes this morning. but i didn't notice until i was driving to work. so now i have to hide my crotch from people without being obvious about it.

If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D

So here's a recap of yesterday's menu. I think it turned out OK, probably a bit ambitious for my limited kitchen skills. Was fairly impressed that i pulled this entire meal off from start to finish in about an hour and 20 minutes.

APPETIZER: Spinach-stuffed croissants with low-fat homemade french onion dip

Courtney really likes spinach and artichoke dip, but i don't know how to make it. So I decided at first to put some spinach and stuff in dough and pan fry it. Then I decided just to stuff some croissants with it and make something to dip them in.

Directions: Cook some frozen spinach. Cut up some garlic, cut up some artichoke hearts. mix it all together with some shredded mozarella cheese. add some salt and pepper and teeniney bit of cayenne. open a can of croissant/crescent rolls. put a gob of mix in a roll and fold it up. follow cooking directions on can.

For the dip, mix two gobs of sour cream and one gob of mayonaisse in a bowl. add some dry onion soup mix, salt, pepper, and some lemon and lime juice. stir and refrigerate.

The Verdict: presentation really sucked. probably should have used some egg wash to keep the rolls from popping open. but overall, very pleased with how it turned out. Doesn't taste like spinach dip, so if you don't like spinach in any other form, probably not the dish for you. But if you can handle spinach, I'm not ashamed to say that this was a winner.

I give it 4 (out of five) stars.

Side Dish: Cauliflower au gratin
Another of courtney's favorites. This dish suffered the most for two reasons. One, I didn't know how to make it. And, two, because i was in such a rush i didn't pay attention to seasoning as much as i normally do. My cardinal rule is "There is never an excuse to underseason anything." well, since cauliflower is naturally bland, this was the wrong dish to not listen to my own rule.

Directions: Cauliflower au gratin begins with the words that have started a million love stories, "First, you make a roux." melt some butter, stir in a proportionate amount of flower. stir the ever loving shit out of it, then stir some more. this was the first roux i've ever made, incidentally. oh yeah, by now you should have already cooked some cauliflower. so let's backtrack...

cut up some cauliflower. boil some water or some sort of broth. but not a whole hell of a lot, control yourself. drop the cauliflower in, put on the lid. leave it alone for a few minutes. take it out and drop it in a big ass bowl of ice water to make it stop cooking. let it sit for a minute or two, then take it out of the water and put it in a casserole dish...

please tell me you didn't stop stirring the roux, you dumb bastard. ok, when your roux turns blond-ish in a few minutes (i just moved on to the next step when i got tired of stirring) stir in a couple of cups of milk. don't just dump in it all at once, and for the love of pete, keep stirring. stir that for a minute or two, then let it simmer. while it;s simmering, stir in some cheese. i didn't see how much i put in because i was starting to panic.

stir for a second and next thing you know, you'll have this thick sauce like substance in your pan (or pot). pour it over the cauliflower. season it more than I did and top it with some breadcrumbs and more cheese. bake at 375 for 30 minutes.

The Verdict: This could have been a 4-star dish, but because it was too bland, i only give it 3 stars.

Side Dish: sauteed shrimp and mexican tomatoes over pasta.

Whenever i need something quick to eat, i loves me some pasta and rotel tomatoes. so i decided it would make a nice compliment to the main dish. Decided to make it a little better with some sauteed shrimp.

Directions: Boil water. Add spaghetti. not much, because it's a small serving.

season some peeled shrimp. i went with kosher salt, pepper, and a little cayenne. melt some butter in a pan with some extra virgin olive oil. i also would normally add garlic to that, but the garlic i bought was bad because how in the hell am i supposed to know what good garlic looks like. put the shrimp in. cook them for a few minutes until they're cooked.

open a can of whatever kind of canned diced tomatoes you like. I prefer something with a kick.

put some pasta on the plate. add some butter (i used spray butter because that's courtney's preference). salt and pepper and sprinkle with some italian seasoning and a dallop of tomatoes. put some shrimp on top.

The Verdict: this dish doesn't get rated because you can't screw it up and it has a limited ceiling. You could add some bell peppers and grilled chicken and turn it into a main dish, though.

Main Dish: Pan seared tuna steak

A can't miss.

Directions: season the shit out of a tuna steak. kosher salt, black pepper, cayenne, italian seasoning. get a pan with some extra virgin olive oil really hot. put the tuna in it, cooking each side for about 30-45 seconds.

courtney and i both like tuna very raw, so you can cook it for longer if you prefer.

One of my favorite love poems

Read this in The Big Book of Limericks close to 20 years ago at Pierre Bossier Mall and it's stuck in my head ever since. I'm sure it violates all sorts of limerick rules, but here goes:

THere was a man whose love interests were gingery
He tore a hole in his sister's best lingerie
He touched her behind
and made up his mind
to add incest to insult and injury.

Nobody's romancin' cause it's too early for dancin', but here comes the music

One of my favorite things about Valentine's Day is that Courtney is OK with me trying things that are usually off-limits.

Usually, because of how closely she watches her diet, I can't cook anything without her suspiciously eyeing the ingredients or cooking methods. But today, I get to experiment in the kitchen while she stays the hell away until dinner is ready.

i am being fairly conscious about the menu though to make sure that if she doesn't like it, it'll be because I screwed up and not because it wasn't healthy enough. I'll share the full menu tomorrow, because i don't want to ruin the surprise in case she reads this today.

But here's a generic round-up:

Appetizer Based on a Common Appetizer but Not Exactly the Same: I actually came up with this one the other day my ownself. It was originally going to be fried, but i think i'm going bake it. I've never made the main part of it, but i looked at a recipe. It sounded hard, so I'm just going to ignore the recipe and make it however i feel like.*

Good Main Dish: make this every once in a while. I know she likes it. Healthy and hard to screw up.

Good side Dish I've Never Made: the recipe for this sounded hard, too. So i'm just going to ignore it and make it however i feel like.*

Secondary Side Dish: Simple but tasty. Small portion to accent the main dish.

Dessert: Don't really have this figured out yet. Think I'll just go with whatever we have at the house.

*I make a pretty darned good (if i may say so) chicken parmasan having never actually seen a recipe, so this isn't the guaranteed disaster you probably think it is.

So, have a great Wednesday and may you all have someone to share your VD with.

Don't know whether i was the boxer or the bag

Yesterday is that magical day where normally rational adults get entirely too worked up over where a bunch of 17- and 18-year-olds decide to play college football.

As you can probably guess, I am one of those people. I spent yesterday with a list of LSU committments and a highlighter, periodically stopping my work to mark off each name as the signed letter of intent was announced.

That is, until Joe McKnight announced he was going to USC.

I found out from my friend Michael, who sent me a text message. if said text message appeared in a newspaper, it would likely look like this:

F***

Knowing what that simple message meant, i sent him one in return. had it appeared in a newspaper, it would most likely look like this:

F***ing****faced****licking******bag*******ingdingleberryeatingcrotchrot****faced**********

Or, for the sake of space:

(expletive deleted)

I'm ashamed to say I had nightmares last night about McKnight's press conference. There's no good reason for me to get worked up about this.

Incidentally, I also had a dream that an old woman in a powder blue hooptie ran me down on the sidewalk because she thought i stole her microwave. luckily, i came away from the attempted pedestriancide with only a badly sprained knee. Also, working in my favor was the fact that it happened only a couple of blocks from the hospital. Unfortunately, the 911 operator said that since i was so close i would have to walk to the hospital.

But, I'd like to end this post on happy note. So here's a little souped-up Toto cover to help you fondly remember the time you touched the rain down in africa.

pass the mind bleach, please

we all, or at least most of us, have that internal editor that warns us sternly when we're about to say something we really shouldn't.

Mine is screaming its lungs out right now, because i'm about to say something that really doesn't need to be shared with the rest of the class. Common sense tells me just to drop it and never speak of it with anyone, for fear that people might realize how strange I really am.

But I wasn't born with a wealth of common sense. So i'll just throw this out there.

I had a dream last night that Katie Holmes had sex with a horse in a harness over the Grand Canyon.

Luckily, I didn't actually witness said act in the dream.

The dream was actually from the perspective of a newscast. the anchor was talking about a video that had leaked to the public of Katie Holmes having sex with a horse because Tom Cruise wanted her too.

The station then showed a clip of the video, with Katie Holmes and a horse in individual red, nylon harnesses hanging over the grand canyon. Before it showed anything, the newscast cut to an interview with Holmes, talking about the experience and how much she loves her husband and all that. she basically looked and sounded brainwashed.

anyway, that was it.

Andy, are you goofing on Elvis?

we've all been there.

you're watching a band and the lead singer is howling out his lyrics with a guitar dangling in front of him. every once in a while, he'll start to play it, but there's no noticeable change to the sound of the song.

I frequently have to ask myself if the person is just pretending to play so he has something to do besides just stand there and sing.

I've always considered Prince a prime candidate for such an activity.

Not a big fan, so i have no basis for any sort of an informed opinion, but the various clips i've seen of him have always left me wondering if he was actually playing.

but i was reading something today and someone said that Prince is actually a very good guitar player. I was a little shocked.

I have nothing more to say that is either relevant or true.

where did all these people come from, and how soon can they leave?

You may notice that there's a new blog in our stuff we're reading sidebar.

Misty, long time reader and commenter here, is busting out on her own. She's the Joni Loves Chachi of this blog.

her blog is called ambient life, which, i think, is a reference to a sleeping pill or something.

read it early and often. that girl crazy.

another blog, which won't be linked on the right is http://callingkettle.blogspot.com

It's titled "Calling the Kettle Black" and it's written by this anonymous journalist who talks about stuff other people write. the first two posts likely sound familiar.

we must never speak of it again.

I'm here because they're paying me to do my thing

I've become enamored with nit-picking other people's writing. I even considered nit-picking my own writing, but remembered that it would be considered giving an opinion on material published by my employer and that is not allowed (most people would say 'verboten' right there, but i won't).

This jumped out at me from a story I read this morning about a firefighter rescuing a person who had driven his car into some water.

The writer tells the reader that the firefighter "stripped to his pants and T-shirt" before getting in the water. There are a couple of things that i find interesting about the use of that phrase, and I'll be surprised if i can present this in any sort of way that makes sense.

So to help keep things moving along as best I can, I'll break it down into two separate but parallel but also intersecting points: A. The use of the verb stripped and B. Relevance of the verb stripped relative to its location in the story.

I hate to ruin the ending and all, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up being OK with how the writer uses the phrase.

A. The use of the verb "stripped."

Let's look at the phrase "stripped to his pants and t-shirt." I wouldn't be writing about it if it didn't initially strike me as odd.

To me, that could be reworded to mean "the firefighter took off his shoes, socks and possibly an outer-layer shirt." That to me, is not an act that would qualify as "stripping."

Then I thought about it for a second -- the writer did exactly what every journalism student is taught to do: use strong verbs.

"stripped" clearly moves the action along better than "took off his shoes..."

And how many people besides me are going to be anal retentive enough to actually catch something like that?

So i started to congratulate the writer for doing a pretty good job and i congratulated myself for being able to admit i was wrong.

But then I thought about it further.

Maybe the writer meant that the firefighter had gear on when he reached the scene, so he had an additional layer of clothing to take off, which would amount to stripping.

That, in turn, created another question in mind. How come when I read the article I assumed that the guy who made the rescue just happened to be a firefighter and not that he had been called to the scene as part of his job?

B. Relevance of the word stripped relative to its location in the story
While the rescuer is referred to in the headline and first paragraph as a firefighter, it's not until the third paragraph ('stripped' appears in the second graph) that it becomes evident (but not completely obvious) that the firefighter was called to the scene and was not a convenient witness to the accident.

So why didn't i immediately make the connection that "stripped" indicated him taking off his fire suit?

I was taught by Dee Dee Thurston (who stressed this to me until her eye balls bled) that "real people" go early in the story, officials go later.

My default mechanism told me that since the firefighter was mentioned early, that he must be a "real person." Had he been acting in the scope of his job, he would have been a firefighter first and, thus, the person who drove the car into the water should lead the action of the story with those acting in the scope of their profession being secondary to the story. Ergo (what?), since he was in the lead, he was not acting as a firefighter in an official capacity, and wouldn't have been wearing anything additional that would have necessitated "stripping."

But upon further reading, it is noted that the water temperature was in the mid-40s and that the firefighter was without feeling in legs for some time following the rescue.

That meant that the rescue was made under extraordinary circumstances and thus justified both 1)using the firefighter in the lead and 2) the verb stripped.

nice job by the writer (although a bit more explanation would have saved us all from the headache of this post).

Incidentally, I think this will inspire me to begin a second blog to write about stuff like this, while saving you from having to read it.

Bad writing kills world's oldest person

The woman featured in the previous post's story is dead.

I hope that writer is proud of himself.

slip away, i can feel it all slip away from me

Ok, check this out. She's old, right? Read that lead again...

A Connecticut woman born to former slaves in the decades following the U.S. Civil War has become the world's oldest person, at 114, according to Guinness World Records.

See that?

The lady is 114, she doesn't need some lame-ass attempt from some writer to make her sound older. She's 114!

2007 (now)-114 (her age)=1892 (her birth year)

Civil War: 1861 to 1865

Never mind the fact that she was born in (Wayne Campbell voice) "a year" not "decades"-- choosing the Civil War as the point of reference was bullshit. She was born nearly 30 years after it was over. Just lame (unless, of course, her amazing longevity truely can be attributed to her multi-decadenal gestation). (i'm also reasonably certain i misspelled several words in that last sentence.)

That's like saying "Seth, who was born in the decades following the Kennedy assassination..."

1892(her birth year) - 1865 (end of war) = 27 years

1980 (my birth year) - 1963 (Kennedy assassination) = 17 years

I was born a full decade closer to the Kennedy assassination than she was to the end of the Civil War. How many people associate Kennedy with the 19 flippin 80's?

Things that happened in 1892 that would have been a better comparison than that lame-ass Civil War shit:

-Rules of basketball published

-Ellis Island opens

-Columbus sails the ocean blue

-Lizzie Bordon chops up stuff...people mostly

-Grover Cleveland elected president

Just crappy writing. and if anybody knows crappy writing, it's me.

And i ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when

I was going to devote this entire blog to television shows, but there was a glare in my rearview mirror on the drive to work this morning.

This was literally (and i mean literally as in "literally," not literally as in "figuratively" like some people like to use it much to my chagrin) the first time in two weeks i had seen the sun. Just thought it warrants a mention.

And now on to television.

Started watching "Deal or No Deal" the other day. Really like the premise of the game, and enjoy factoring the odds and all that while watching.

But, bobdamn, do i hate the contestants.

I don't know how they find such annoying people and their very annoying friends and family. I start out interested in the game and playing along, but by the end i'm rooting against the contestant more than anything.

i don't know how long i can keep watching with such a high annoyance level.

Not much for reality television, but i rather enjoy Top Chef on Bravo. The two people i was rooting for were booted last night (althought i wasn't awake to see the end). Now i don't know if i want to watch next week's finale because i'm going to drop-kick a puppy if Marcel wins.

One of my favorite series of books, Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, is now a tv show on Sci-Fi.

don't like the dresden character. too rugged/macho looking. not nearly clumsy/funny enough. definitely a noticeable lack of humor in the show. to be an hour long, the first half should be a lot funnier.

not enough incidental magic stuff (yes, it's about a wizard). he needs to do more of the little stupid spells instead of just blabbering on about the high council then using some lame doom box at the end.

too much father/flashback stuff.

it was basically a detective show with a cop-out "blow the bad guy up" ending. needs to boost the cleverness factor a lot.

otherwise, it was watchable.

I made the mistake of letting Courtney watch Friday Night Lights several weeks ago. Now that I'm ready to quit watching it because of the unbelievable football stuff (although last night's episode was infinitely better as far as that goes), Courtney is addicted to all the soap opera crap involved.

i used to love it, but i don't believe in school no more

Besides the obvious events like my wedding and...well, my wedding, i guess...the happiest I've ever been around a female was at the LSU-Ole Miss football game in 2003 in Oxford, Miss.

World-famous douchetard Eli Manning was supposed to lead the Rebels to the promised land. but ended up on his butt and all was right in the world as they lost again.

Right after the deciding play. i turned around and saw a woman in ole miss garb crying. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. To quote Cartman after he cooked Scott Tenorman's parents in chili and fed it to him: "Yes, yes, oh let me taste your tears. your tears are so tasty and sweet. oh, the tears of unfathomable sadness. yummy! yummy!"

If you could ever enjoy watching another person's suffering on the level i did that night, you're going to love this video from NBX Sports :

***

Why do people insist on calling hypothetical places of perpetual solitude "desert islands?"

how in the hell do you have a desert island? an island, by it's definition is surrounded by water. it's kind of hard to have something that is both a desert and an island.

it's "deserted island," people. as in, there's no civilization on it. dumbasses.

***

speaking of calling things stuff, i heard someone refer to Les Miserables as "Les Mis" today.

how many times do you have to read or see that to call it Les Mis?

I've never read it, seen it, or have any clue what it's about. So do i have to pronouce it by its full name?

or even worse, am i allowed to pronounce it "Lay Mizerahb" even though i know nothing about it, or do i have to call it "Less miserables?"

any help would be appreciated.

Freecos?

man, it's been almost a week already. where to begin?

Of course, I was obviously pleased with the results of the sugar bowl.

and i'm not real happy with saban taking the alabama job. i can understand leaving LSU for the NFL if it's truly your dream. and i can understand leaving the NFL because it's not what you expected/wanted. but if you leave LSU for the right reasons, you don't take a job with a school in their freaking division.

i had insomnia pretty bad over the stretch of a few days between christmas and new year's. Check out this joke i thought of while drinking wine at 4 a.m. to try and knock myself out:

What vegetable goes best with extra duck?
Asparagoose!

oh man, that's awesome. if you look closely, you'll see that there are actually two jokes in there.

I kind of thought the whole House-drug arrest problem worked itself out a little too nicely on House last night, but all-in-all it was an excellent episode. i chortled a couple of times. easily the best show on television right now.

i can't promise i will be there on opening night, but i will see this movie...




and just because i'm so happy about it, a little classic lagniappe...