Seriously, I rented Hello Kitty Animation Theater, and I think I'm watching the strangest episode ever.
There's this duck character, I'm sure he has a name and he's a nice tax-paying upstanding young duck, but he's just swallowed a fox, a ladder, a river, and wasps. Not violently, just told them it was more comfortable in their stomach, and they shrunk themselves, went into the duck's mouth, and the characters jumped into his mouth. Where they were lots of hearts, and it was, indeed, comfortable.
And of course, the best part was when the river went into the duck, kinda like a reverse throwing up deal whereby the whole river just got sucked into his mouth.
Oh my god, the guards just threw the duck into a freaking furnace. And the river came out his mouth and saved him.
And wasps just flew out of his mouth.
YEAH.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Bored
Generally posting because I'm a little bored, and on the weekends the tech blogs that I usually visit down update much. News is a bit slow, and it's raining outside. The kids are at the same table as I am, playing with PlayDoh, which I have wisely chosen to opt out because they'll want me to make something, and then promptly destroy it seconds later. Such is parenthood.
We went to Toys R Us today to get presents for Jane and Joseph, my grandchildren who are handily close to my own children's age. Joseph got some Transformers toys, which I'm sure his Dad will enjoy too. I myself never owned a lot or any of those toys in my seminal kid years - somehow it was a bit too macho and sci-fi for me. GI Joe was the other. I don't know why boys' toys have to be so hostile, but I suppose it's just society priming their young for their roles later on in life. Jane got a pair of roller skates, perhaps to skate away from the oppression of cultural norms.
Forgive me, having watched "The United States Vs. John Lennon" last night, I'm in a bit of an activist mode. I'm not a smart guy, so I have to watch pop documentaries to get me up to speed on history. For example, the documentary indirectly hints at the parallels between Bush and Nixon, and it's almost creepy that a president could handily repeat the same mistakes 30 years later. The documentary, was of course skewed in favor of Lennon, but it didn't have to try hard to do so. The Nixon administration was terribly paranoid and out of touch. Cocky as hell, too. Much like the current administration.
---
I technically have a wedding to edit, but I'm waiting on them to give me some song suggestions. I would wing it, but I can't wing the Spanish theme. They even had a Mariachi band and I have no idea what their first dance song was. I called them but no return call back, and their email either has me blocked, spammed, or just ignored. He's on Hotmail, and the spam filter on Hotmail is infamously inaccurate. The thing that this wedding memorable for me is the unfortunate misspelling on the souveniors they have for the guests. I don't know what was inside, but on the outside it said, "Groom and Bride's Weeding." Maybe there were some mini-shears inside the boxes.
---
I was going to talk about my constant habit of fussing with my facial hair (it's poky and fun to stroke) and I thought there might be a condition for it or something. Turns out, not really, but there is a lot of info regarding Chinese men and growing facial hair.
The good news is, most Chinese men like me will have the same type, kinda sparse, straight, and light growth that's mostly 'stache and light goatee. Any longer it veers into stereotype, any shorter hints at just coming into puberty.
The bad news is, seems like nobody likes a Chinese man with facial hair. The European/Americans who usually think it's manly to have facial hair, think that the Asian 'stache is either weak or strange. And the Chinese population think it's creepy. Everyone of them thinks like my Mom or something. That it's creepy, pervy, and whatnot.
But FYI, I went to the interview without trimming my facial hair this time. Just didn't care, mostly because I know that working in a call center wouldn't matter what the hell you look like. And Nintendo probably put more emphasis on work ethics and integrity than my pervy facial hair.
---
Well, better clean up this PlayDoh mess. Dinnertime.
We went to Toys R Us today to get presents for Jane and Joseph, my grandchildren who are handily close to my own children's age. Joseph got some Transformers toys, which I'm sure his Dad will enjoy too. I myself never owned a lot or any of those toys in my seminal kid years - somehow it was a bit too macho and sci-fi for me. GI Joe was the other. I don't know why boys' toys have to be so hostile, but I suppose it's just society priming their young for their roles later on in life. Jane got a pair of roller skates, perhaps to skate away from the oppression of cultural norms.
Forgive me, having watched "The United States Vs. John Lennon" last night, I'm in a bit of an activist mode. I'm not a smart guy, so I have to watch pop documentaries to get me up to speed on history. For example, the documentary indirectly hints at the parallels between Bush and Nixon, and it's almost creepy that a president could handily repeat the same mistakes 30 years later. The documentary, was of course skewed in favor of Lennon, but it didn't have to try hard to do so. The Nixon administration was terribly paranoid and out of touch. Cocky as hell, too. Much like the current administration.
---
I technically have a wedding to edit, but I'm waiting on them to give me some song suggestions. I would wing it, but I can't wing the Spanish theme. They even had a Mariachi band and I have no idea what their first dance song was. I called them but no return call back, and their email either has me blocked, spammed, or just ignored. He's on Hotmail, and the spam filter on Hotmail is infamously inaccurate. The thing that this wedding memorable for me is the unfortunate misspelling on the souveniors they have for the guests. I don't know what was inside, but on the outside it said, "Groom and Bride's Weeding." Maybe there were some mini-shears inside the boxes.
---
I was going to talk about my constant habit of fussing with my facial hair (it's poky and fun to stroke) and I thought there might be a condition for it or something. Turns out, not really, but there is a lot of info regarding Chinese men and growing facial hair.
The good news is, most Chinese men like me will have the same type, kinda sparse, straight, and light growth that's mostly 'stache and light goatee. Any longer it veers into stereotype, any shorter hints at just coming into puberty.
The bad news is, seems like nobody likes a Chinese man with facial hair. The European/Americans who usually think it's manly to have facial hair, think that the Asian 'stache is either weak or strange. And the Chinese population think it's creepy. Everyone of them thinks like my Mom or something. That it's creepy, pervy, and whatnot.
But FYI, I went to the interview without trimming my facial hair this time. Just didn't care, mostly because I know that working in a call center wouldn't matter what the hell you look like. And Nintendo probably put more emphasis on work ethics and integrity than my pervy facial hair.
---
Well, better clean up this PlayDoh mess. Dinnertime.
Friday Night
Well, Saturday morning, actually.
Some rants, some raves.
---
I don't really want to jinx it by mentioning anything, but what the hell, I throw my caution to the wind and shrug. I applied to a position Thursday afternoon and in a couple hours, I had an appointment for today. I took the tests today and I guess I'm upward to 66 words per minute with a 1@ error rate, and my listening skills are just barely passable. I have another appointment on Monday to get a sample of what they do, and to take a tour of the facility. It's a call center for customer service, and it's going to be a contract job, possibly up to a year, and possibly a way into full time if they don't mind seeing my face. All and all, it's not exactly what I went to college for, but it's not too shabby.
Here's the catch - I was offered a full time position with a travel agency, with bonus and travel benefits about an hour after the interview with a travel agency call center, but I turned it down. It was slightly lower pay, but really, I don't have that much of a jonesing to work for any call center. But why this call center?
Because it's the House Mario Built. I won't mention it by name, mainly 'cause I don't want it searchable by Google, but yeah, I'm psyched about it. There'll be a 10% employee discount, which isn't much, but the store will have lots of goodies that aren't available to the public.
But it's still too early. I suppose if I'm touring the place, I've got a toe in the door, but we'll see how Monday goes. I wouldn't mind moving up this company, that's for sure. Who knows, even if nothing pans out at the end of it, it'll still be interesting to say that I've worked there. It's like being in Candyland.
---
So I'm unofficially part of the population that's happy that Paris Hilton is headed back to jail. I guess why I'm even wasting my time talking about this stupid girl is because I feel that justice, in part, has been enforced. Although I've never been affected by drunk driving, I'm actually very critical of people getting a slap on the wrist when it comes to that. I don't think there's any excuse for it, and I don't care for the fines or light jail time for drunk driving. I look at it this way - if you took a gun, walked down to the market and waved it around while you were drunk - you'd get some jail time for endangering the public. But for some odd reason, when you're behind the wheel of a 3000 pound vehicle going 35 miles an hour, you're not as liable.
Anyway, I know Paris wasn't in jail for drunk driving - she was driving on a suspended license due to drunk driving, and it was her second time caught. But she has a blantant disregard for the law and it's despicable that the sheriff responsible for letting her out justified it to overcrowding and a medical disorder. C'mon, doesn't he recognize a tantrum when he sees one? Furthermore, she managed to make Martha Stewart look like a saint. Evidently when she was hauled back to prison, she was crying and calling for her Mom.
Say goodbye to her career.
---
Well, I had more on my mind earlier, but I guess it fell out of my head.
Some rants, some raves.
---
I don't really want to jinx it by mentioning anything, but what the hell, I throw my caution to the wind and shrug. I applied to a position Thursday afternoon and in a couple hours, I had an appointment for today. I took the tests today and I guess I'm upward to 66 words per minute with a 1@ error rate, and my listening skills are just barely passable. I have another appointment on Monday to get a sample of what they do, and to take a tour of the facility. It's a call center for customer service, and it's going to be a contract job, possibly up to a year, and possibly a way into full time if they don't mind seeing my face. All and all, it's not exactly what I went to college for, but it's not too shabby.
Here's the catch - I was offered a full time position with a travel agency, with bonus and travel benefits about an hour after the interview with a travel agency call center, but I turned it down. It was slightly lower pay, but really, I don't have that much of a jonesing to work for any call center. But why this call center?
Because it's the House Mario Built. I won't mention it by name, mainly 'cause I don't want it searchable by Google, but yeah, I'm psyched about it. There'll be a 10% employee discount, which isn't much, but the store will have lots of goodies that aren't available to the public.
But it's still too early. I suppose if I'm touring the place, I've got a toe in the door, but we'll see how Monday goes. I wouldn't mind moving up this company, that's for sure. Who knows, even if nothing pans out at the end of it, it'll still be interesting to say that I've worked there. It's like being in Candyland.
---
So I'm unofficially part of the population that's happy that Paris Hilton is headed back to jail. I guess why I'm even wasting my time talking about this stupid girl is because I feel that justice, in part, has been enforced. Although I've never been affected by drunk driving, I'm actually very critical of people getting a slap on the wrist when it comes to that. I don't think there's any excuse for it, and I don't care for the fines or light jail time for drunk driving. I look at it this way - if you took a gun, walked down to the market and waved it around while you were drunk - you'd get some jail time for endangering the public. But for some odd reason, when you're behind the wheel of a 3000 pound vehicle going 35 miles an hour, you're not as liable.
Anyway, I know Paris wasn't in jail for drunk driving - she was driving on a suspended license due to drunk driving, and it was her second time caught. But she has a blantant disregard for the law and it's despicable that the sheriff responsible for letting her out justified it to overcrowding and a medical disorder. C'mon, doesn't he recognize a tantrum when he sees one? Furthermore, she managed to make Martha Stewart look like a saint. Evidently when she was hauled back to prison, she was crying and calling for her Mom.
Say goodbye to her career.
---
Well, I had more on my mind earlier, but I guess it fell out of my head.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
The Big Tease
I promised myself, once my Cingular contract runs out, I'm gonna cancel that bill out of my life. I'm not a phone talker, and I'm certainly not using all my minutes on my plan, rollover or not, and it's sucking out 50 bucks a month out of me. The long distance is nice, but since I'm home most of the time, I ain't got no one to text. Well, now for some inexplicable reason other than tech greed, I'm keeping my account active because maybe, maybe something might be plausible and the iPhone might be in my hand, if the stars align and God doesn't hate me too much for that last post.
Anyway, the new iPhone ads at Apple.com are just pure porn to me - they simply show you how to watch your movie, look on the map, call for a reservation, all with a digit flowing around the screen with incredible ease. The music is unassuming and plain, the delivery matter-of-factly, and there's no bells or whistles - other than the cool iPhone, of course.
Well, Macrumors and other sites are now exclaiming all kinds of tidbits like, "No 2 year contract required on new ads!" and "data plans may just be 40 bucks!" and "just donate an organ and we'll call it even, and it doesn't even have to be your organ!" For some odd reason, it seems like it's more in reach, that maybe with some mojo owning one might be possible. Even though I know it's not, really.
I couldn't imagine getting an iPhone without a contract would be good, though. Be like pricey as hell.
What can I sell that isn't illegal...
---
So the job market is continually mocking me with showing initial interest, and then dropping off the face of the earth. Okay, the Apple thing burned me - 3rd week now and they promised to call "later that week." I feel like the date after the one night stand who believed that not everyone thought that wearing a dress necessarily meant that I didn't have a penis.
Well, yesterday I got an email of interest for a job that I applied for, and it's - promise not to laugh at my face - a video game tester. Yeah, it's a real job, likely doesn't pay that great, but it's something that might be interesting for a while. Mostly because it'll be a contract position, with no career advancement. Anyway, I emailed back my answers in a hurry, and kept checking the email today, but nothing. Maybe they're just running through the applicants. Maybe "Because I look good in a thong" wasn't a good answer for Question 5. Or Question 14, for that matter.
---
The forces of the universe have suddenly transported me back to the 70s. I borrowed a comic book about the 70s from the library, and it's a collection of panels that are done by various artists, covering various aspects of a theme. I have one of my own called "The Big Book of Death", and it's all about that theme. Well, this one's about the 70s, so they called about Nixon, Hoffa, Free Love, TV, Drugs, Jiggle TV, all that sort of thing. Well, I also started liking the History Channel so I started DVR-ing the interesting shows, and guess what - that week they chose to obsess about the 70s too. I got crossover knowledge about Jonestown, muscle cars, the gas shortage, the microchip and Pong, and the popularization of CB radios that decade.
There was an interesting one because it was some odd bastardization of a documentary, called, "History Rocks." It took a subject, scored it to a popular song from the 70s, and had facts pop up about it throughout. For example, "Don't Fear the Reaper" played throughout the clips and facts of Jonestown. I've seen this done in "One Day in September" before, and it's weird because the music coupled with the images is cool alright, but it does set the mood and tone for the whole thing, brings you back to that time period in an instant. It's pop history in a way, but for a nerd like me, I'd be Wikipediaing the topics after the show ended.
Watch the clip I'm talking about.
Anyway, the new iPhone ads at Apple.com are just pure porn to me - they simply show you how to watch your movie, look on the map, call for a reservation, all with a digit flowing around the screen with incredible ease. The music is unassuming and plain, the delivery matter-of-factly, and there's no bells or whistles - other than the cool iPhone, of course.
Well, Macrumors and other sites are now exclaiming all kinds of tidbits like, "No 2 year contract required on new ads!" and "data plans may just be 40 bucks!" and "just donate an organ and we'll call it even, and it doesn't even have to be your organ!" For some odd reason, it seems like it's more in reach, that maybe with some mojo owning one might be possible. Even though I know it's not, really.
I couldn't imagine getting an iPhone without a contract would be good, though. Be like pricey as hell.
What can I sell that isn't illegal...
---
So the job market is continually mocking me with showing initial interest, and then dropping off the face of the earth. Okay, the Apple thing burned me - 3rd week now and they promised to call "later that week." I feel like the date after the one night stand who believed that not everyone thought that wearing a dress necessarily meant that I didn't have a penis.
Well, yesterday I got an email of interest for a job that I applied for, and it's - promise not to laugh at my face - a video game tester. Yeah, it's a real job, likely doesn't pay that great, but it's something that might be interesting for a while. Mostly because it'll be a contract position, with no career advancement. Anyway, I emailed back my answers in a hurry, and kept checking the email today, but nothing. Maybe they're just running through the applicants. Maybe "Because I look good in a thong" wasn't a good answer for Question 5. Or Question 14, for that matter.
---
The forces of the universe have suddenly transported me back to the 70s. I borrowed a comic book about the 70s from the library, and it's a collection of panels that are done by various artists, covering various aspects of a theme. I have one of my own called "The Big Book of Death", and it's all about that theme. Well, this one's about the 70s, so they called about Nixon, Hoffa, Free Love, TV, Drugs, Jiggle TV, all that sort of thing. Well, I also started liking the History Channel so I started DVR-ing the interesting shows, and guess what - that week they chose to obsess about the 70s too. I got crossover knowledge about Jonestown, muscle cars, the gas shortage, the microchip and Pong, and the popularization of CB radios that decade.
There was an interesting one because it was some odd bastardization of a documentary, called, "History Rocks." It took a subject, scored it to a popular song from the 70s, and had facts pop up about it throughout. For example, "Don't Fear the Reaper" played throughout the clips and facts of Jonestown. I've seen this done in "One Day in September" before, and it's weird because the music coupled with the images is cool alright, but it does set the mood and tone for the whole thing, brings you back to that time period in an instant. It's pop history in a way, but for a nerd like me, I'd be Wikipediaing the topics after the show ended.
Watch the clip I'm talking about.
I'm Going to Hell.
So we were talking about something, and I exclaimed...
"Jesus."
A beat.
"Died for your sins."
"He really had something going on that day, was kinda busy, but he did it anyway. Just because he loves you."
"Watch, he'll come down and be like, "Dude, that's just not cool. You, you stupidhead. You funny looking fat idiot."
"I could've made you better looking and skinnier, but I'm not going to, because I'm better than you. You stupidhead."
A beat.
"You're right, he probably won't call me stupidhead. He'd call me a Fucktard."
"A fuck tart?" my wife asked.
"Yes, a fuck tart. Like for breakfast with my coffee."
And still, my wife whose Christianity will probably salvage me to a slightly more comfortable depth of hell, loves me and my monologues.
"Jesus."
A beat.
"Died for your sins."
"He really had something going on that day, was kinda busy, but he did it anyway. Just because he loves you."
"Watch, he'll come down and be like, "Dude, that's just not cool. You, you stupidhead. You funny looking fat idiot."
"I could've made you better looking and skinnier, but I'm not going to, because I'm better than you. You stupidhead."
A beat.
"You're right, he probably won't call me stupidhead. He'd call me a Fucktard."
"A fuck tart?" my wife asked.
"Yes, a fuck tart. Like for breakfast with my coffee."
And still, my wife whose Christianity will probably salvage me to a slightly more comfortable depth of hell, loves me and my monologues.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Monday, June 4, 2007
Ah, Innocence.
"See Dad?"
"What?"
"See Dad?" Alex repeated, pointing to his shorts.
"What, did you poop?"
"No."
"What?"
"My penis is moving up and down."
And I'm fighting not to laugh my ass off.
"What?"
"See Dad?" Alex repeated, pointing to his shorts.
"What, did you poop?"
"No."
"What?"
"My penis is moving up and down."
And I'm fighting not to laugh my ass off.
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