It's time to get away, it's tiiiiime to get away... from you
Well, circumstances at work have changed for the better. Unfortunately, as a direct result, I've decided that the blog is going to have to take a permanent back seat. I guess I could let it limp along via infrequent posting, but I'd rather just put it out of its misery now.
So, thanks for the readership. It's been real, and it's been fun, but it hasn't been real fun.
Well, I've finally made my way through Crichton's State of Fear; it's the first Crichton I've read in no less than 10 years. I don't know what his personal opinion on catastrophic Global Warming is, but the novel is all about uncovering it as a massive, pseudoscientific scare campaign, employed by power-hungry individuals with seedy political motives.
I've been crunching on salt since I started reading it - Crichton himself readily admits that statistics can be twisted to prove, well.... anything - but nevertheless it's refreshing to hear someone shout "no clothes" for a change. Sane people know only all too well just how wearisome the endless apocalyptic prophecies of the Global Warming Cult can be.
All last week, Morning Edition on NPR ran features on the Arctic, and yesterday All Things Considered did the same. You can guess what they focused on as the major issue there. Now, I don't doubt that the climate is changing near the poles. Hell, I don't even mind people reporting on the effects of climate change. What I do mind is the implication that the truck I am driving whilst listening to your report is somehow responsible for other people's long summers, or the ice shelves calving. Fuck off and get a clue; the dynamic disequilibrium of the universe is bigger than me, and it's certainly much bigger than you.
I wonder what people blamed global climate change on 25,000 years ago when it was fucking cold, and following game herds required them to cross the Bering land bridge into the Land of Plenty.
1. I'll go ahead and get this one out of the way first. With no disrespect meant towards the victims of the shooting, I am so happy to see V-Tech get the everliving shit kicked out of them. I've fucking hated "Beamer Ball" since the first time I heard the term, and I think they've consistently been one of the most overrated programs during the past 5-7 years. This season, the communal dicksucking they've received from the sports media (cough*ESPN*cough) has been nothing short of sickening. I can't wait until they lose two more games over the course of the season.
2. All I'm gonna say about this one: Dear Greg Davis, Remember the I Formation? I do. Love, Everyone.
3. I think I just invented the perfect poor Mexican's margarita. In a heavily iced glass, pour two shots tequila, one shot brandy, one shot Curacao; fill the rest with Lemon Lime Gatorade. Toss in copious amounts of salt and lime. Mmmmm....
4. This LSU team is good. SCARY fucking good.
5. Aaaand flipping over to ESPN2... Probably the only time I'll ever admit this is after I've consumed several of the aforementioned drinks, but holy fucking shit, Auburn's got some talent. True, nothing will ever change the fact that Texas girls are the best in the world, but there's just something about those Old South gals that gets to me every time. Any time I see a group of three of them in HD, it's instantly love at first sight. During their SEC coverage, CBS usually does a great job of keeping me focused on their hot asses, but I've got to give it to ESPN tonight: they're doing their part. Here's to the great state of Alabama.
6. And to Michigan (in my best Ralph Wiggum voice): Ha ha.
7. Herbstreit just said he's keeping USC at #1 and voting OU into #3; LOOOOO-ser.
Alright, time to start obsessing over my fantasy teams.
That's what the kids are calling #1 and #2 these days.
Grover!!! Grover's in this one!! Grover has "to go!"
Whoever does Grover's voice these days is awful; Frank Oz, he is not.
There's a big purple King Kong-ish character on the screen. "Monkey pee, monkey doo" was the punchline of his segment.
Grover's back. Man his voiceover blizows. Now he's dueting with Elmo. Fuck me.
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This is killing me. Elliot stopped caring, thank Christ.
A few closing thoughts:
My hatred of Elmo knows no bounds. If you want to talk about the dumbing down of America's children, let us begin our discussion with the the little red abortion that is now the fucking star of America's preeminent children's educational television program, and who is ubiquitous on toy shelves in every store in the country.
Witness Grover and Forgetful Jones, my favorite Sesame Street characters ever.
They're pretty much the anti-Elmos.
Frank Oz is the obvious voice of Grover, and we're all familiar with his work. If you are a Muppet aficionado, you will probably recognize Richard Hunt as the voice of Forgetful Jones; Hunt's other well known characters included Sweetums, Scooter, Junior Gorg, Statler, and Beaker. He was legendary.
Elliot wants to ride his bike. Time to go outside.
11:50 AM - Lunch will be served out of the trunk of Terry's car, in the basement of parking garage. Lunch will consist solely of Bud Light.
1:05 PM - The Onshore Division is going to the ball game! That's right, the higher ups have armed each of us peons with a ticket and twenty Astros Bucks. This is game three of a 3 game series with Cards. Interestingly enough, Game 1 was a 7-0 blank by the Redbirds, but the Astros managed to return the favor last night with a 7-0 shutout of their own. Today's pitching matchup is Albers-Pineiro, so there should be plenty of action on the hitting front.
Sure, the last place 'Stros are drawing dead right now, but they still have a month's worth of baseball to play spoiler for everyone else in the division.
5:30 PM - Live draft at our VP's house, with my boss, and several other managers. Accompanied by... more beer. And pizza. Something tells me that after 5 solid hours of drinking, this is the probably a very dangerous place for me to be hanging out. Just a hunch.
8:00 PM - Poker at Casa de Siy. Ahh, poker. It's become a weekly cleansing ritual, therapeutic in nature and calming in effect. A good way to wrap up the day (and part with all my cash).
So there it is.
Now I have 45 minutes to wrap up 3 hours worth of work.
He is a god amongst men. A titan amongst mere mortals. He is the first World Air Guitar Champion from the U.S. of A. He is C-Diddy.
I strongly, strongly, STRONGLY suggest that you rent/watch Air Guitar Nation completely spoiler free (I think it's the only way you'll get the full force of its impact), but if you must get a taste of the pudding before you eat the pie, then witness C-Diddy in all his glorious splendor.
