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Saturday, May 31, 2008

The right decision

I've blogged about our recent move, and the reasons behind it. That neighborhood we just vacated? Highlighted in this article in today's Desert Sun. If you take a look at the top photo attached to the article, you can just barely make out our former house, on the right side of the street just after it slopes back up the hill.

Moving all our stuff in 115 degree heat two weeks ago? Totally worth every minute.

Monday, May 26, 2008

To echo a wise man

New house

Moving #%@^ing sucks.

Even though we only moved about 10 miles, it still was a pain in the ass. We just have too much stuff, and my suggestions of what to toss did not meet with Deborah's approval. However, the actual moving of the stuff went smoothly (thanks James and Jason!), despite last weekend's 110+ degree temperatures. And subsequent lack of AC in the new place (which has since been fixed).

My whole point is this: Now that the move has been completed, my regular blogging schedule should resume.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Happy Earth Day

• A grassroots environmental movement, celebrated each April 22, to broaden awareness of the sensitive nature of the Earth and the havoc the human race is inflicting upon it.

• One of the days deemed important enough by Google to warrant its own holiday treatment.

• My name in Pig Latin.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Another year, another move

We are staying in the desert, but will be moving to a neighborhood that boasts fewer gunshots, graffiti wars, drag races and rock-throwing teen hooligans.

As of May 1, we will be moving out of Desert Hot Springs, much to the relief of the Cap'n, who never could string the correct three words together to form the name of this city. Butchered examples include "Desert Palm Springs," "Palm Hot Springs," "Palm Desert Springs," and finally, "the town with the airport," even though DHS does not have one.

Our new place is in the Cathedral City cove, which I lovingly refer to as "The Wang of the Desert." (This is not to be confused with Wang's in the Desert, a great Chinese restaurant in Palm Springs at which I take predictable and juvenile jabs when eating there.)

The new house is smaller than the current place, but we decided to sacrifice square footage for safety. There are great views of the surrounding mountains, and our commutes will be shorter and no longer will include the I-10/Palm Drive interchange snafu.

Plus, it has a pool ... a private pool in our backyard, not an apartment complex pool contaminated with kid piss and old man back hair. And when it's 120 degrees for five straight months, nothing feels better than a dip in your pool, which the sun has heated up to 120 degrees. It also has a hot tub, which we will enjoy on the two days per year when the mercury drops below 78.

Did I mention there will be no more gunshots on our street?

Monday, February 11, 2008

My true colors are shining through

Everyone at work has to take this personality test called True Colors within three months of being hired.

I managed to make it almost a year and a half before taking it last week. I thought that might be a record, but in my session alone there were two guys who had banked about three years each before getting the call. We sat in the back and made smart-ass remarks and got yelled at once. We were the three seniors who had one last chance to pass Freshman English or face flunking out. And along the way we found tenderness and yes, even love.

Anyway, there are four colors that can be your dominant: blue, orange, green and gold (as with the original M&Ms, red gets the shaft). I am a green, which means I am analytical, logical, laid-back and cool under pressure. It also means other people may view me as indifferent, aloof, boring and least likely to get laid.

In case you want to take the test yourself (and do not fall into the green category), I'm sure you can find it online somewhere. But here's the quick and dirty version:

• Are you a hippie flower child who writes poems about rainbows and is in touch with your feelings and has one of those Japanese Zen gardens? Like Deborah, you are a blue.

• Golds are the people who organize their CD case by genre, then alphabetically, then by ISBN number. Or have outfits for each day of the week and do not deviate from this rigid pattern, even when Monday is a holiday. Morgan is a gold.

• Or are you an impulsive loudmouth who blows lots of money on spur-of-the-moment trips to Vegas that end either in drunken fisticuffs or impromptu matrimony? Orange is your color, and I'm looking at you, Gleason.

And that, my friends, is a four-hour training, boiled down to 90 seconds. You can thank my green-based efficiency.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

If you think you're smarter than a 5th grader

Then you should figure out how many 5-year-olds you could take out in a fight.

I'd finish off 17 before the rest gave me the ol' Glass Joe treatment.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

The cure for procrastination

There was a yellow box of some kind in the middle of Indian Canyon Drive on Sunday night, and I hit it square with my front left tire. Almost immediately, the car began pulling left ever so slightly. "I'll go in Monday on my lunch break to have it checked out," I thought to myself at the time.

Fast forward to today - Wednesday - and as Debz and I were heading back from lunch, I said, "My car's still pulling left. I should get that looked at. I hit that thing pretty hard."

No more than two seconds later, I heard a hollow pop, followed by a telltale flapping as the car sunk slightly on the left side. I have no doubt that my car, tired of my empty promises to mend its ailing appendage, pulled the plug on the dying wheel to spur me into action. "Here we go again," the beleaguered Neon surely thought. "It's just like the time we skipped over two scheduled oil changes. I'm not putting up with that shit again."

The Neon, fresh from Midas with a new tire and realignment, is now resting comfortably in the garage. Although it's still friggin' filthy. I'll wash it this weekend...

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Oh-eight

In 2008, I resolve to give up cauliflower, horse tranquilizers and belching in public.

Unfortunately, these are three of the things that Debz finds particularly attractive about me. I hope our young marriage can survive this first crisis.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Free at last!

I received a letter in the mail last week from Great Lakes Educational Loan Services that read in part:

"CONGRATULATIONS! Our records show that this account was paid in full as of 11-08-2007. We hope your educational experience has been a good one."

So in addition to being $225.39 richer each month, I am interpreting that last sentence to mean that I am no longer under any obligation to continue learning. Soon, I hope to be forgetting things I once knew. With any luck, by next week I'll be watching Fox News and "The Bachelor" in diapers while eating moldy cat food.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Jackpot!

I was driving home this morning after working the overnight shift, which included two extra hours fixing something I was only partly responsible for breaking. The sun was just coming up, and even though it lit the mountains beautifully, I was tired and cranky.

Then a local radio station put out an urgent request for caller 10. Something inside me said, "Hey, I could be caller 10!" So I dialed the cell phone and was greeted immediately by a man who had no business being that cheerful at any time of day, much less at 6:30 a.m. I was, in fact, caller 10. My reward: two passes to the world-renowned San Diego Zoo.

This is the crown jewel of my radio winnings career, which includes tickets to a long-ago Opening Day to watch the Milwaukee Brewers lose, courtside tickets to an even-longer-ago Rockford Lightning game and the debut CD from Train.

Anyone else ever win anything decent? And if you say the heart of your significant other, you will be banned immediately. I don't cotton to such romanticizin' here.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Now that's a rationalization

Right now, there's a police helicopter hovering around the area swinging its bright beam of light around at the hint of movement. What's out there that needs to be found? It could be an escaped deranged mental patient, or maybe a murderer on the run or even (shudder) a flock of Jehoviah's Witnesses.

Fortunately, there are many homes in this neighborhood so the chances of the interloper picking mine to hole up in is probably a miniscule 100 to 1. And even if he does defy the odds, I've got my vicious attack cats to protect me. Right now, they're hiding under the bed because I sneezed suddenly, but I'm sure they would jump to my defense should this castle be invaded.

But I'd better eat that last ice cream bar in the freezer now. Just in case I'm busy in deadly hand-to-hand combat with a hardened criminal later.

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

How many candles on a cake is too many?

Most people stop serving birthday cakes featuring one candle per year around the time the recipient hits 16. As we all know, Deborah is not most people.

"Do I really need a cake with 32 candles on it? It'll take way too long."

"Tough, you can wait."

So today, I got my 33-candled cake. One was for good measure. Or luck. Or for the hell of it. I can't remember; I was focused on the cake. Deborah started lighting them. It took awhile. Tiny sparks popped off them. "These aren't those damn trick candles, are they?" "No, of course not." Deborah's lies fooled no one. By the time #33 was lit, the first one was singeing the frosting.

Finally, I was given the ok to cut loose. Maybe three stayed out. Trick candles, remember? By this time, smoke detectors were blaring, cats were freaking out and Deborah was rushing to turn on fans and open doors. I didn't help. It was my birthday so I was immune from all household tasks, including those that could save me from possible smoke inhalation. And, well, someone had to blow those candles out. Eventually, I gave up; it was just too much work. Trick candles, remember?

After silencing those pesky smoke detectors (no need to test those for another six months), Deborah began tweezing the still-flaming candles out of the cake and pitching them into a bowl of water. Watch out, Deborah! There's not much candle left to grab on any of these! Whoops... you missed the bowl... that one's burning the countertop! Oh, what fun!

Eventually, all candles were doused in the now-disgusting bowl of water, and I was allowed to eat my cake. I'll have to wait until next March 7 to see if I'll get my wish: that my next birthday cake has no candles.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Dead of night

There's a last-man-on-earth feeling I get at 4 a.m. when I'm finishing the overnight shift and the rest of the world is sound asleep. It's very peaceful. It feels like it's me and Luis, the security guard, on our own. But I don't think Luis shares my vision. He just asks if I want the TV in the corner on. I say no, and he turns it off, mutters something that sounds vaguely like "good night" and stomps back downstairs.

I'd probably feel the same way if this was the norm for me rather than the exception.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Skipping Christmas

While I'm not nearly as bitter on the subject as my good friend Marty, I am pretty much punting Christmas this year.

It's not because I hate the holidays or feel all Grinchy or am a Communist, Satan-worshipping, anti-American freedom-hater leading the War Against Christmas. Nope, I just don't have the time and energy for it this year.

• When Debz and I left South Carolina, we got rid of our old beat-up Christmas tree. We've yet to buy another, be it real or fake.

• For the second year in a row, I won't be making it back to Rockford. Yeah, I'll see my dad and sister for a weekend in February, but I won't see my mom's extended family. I miss them.

• Gift-buying this year has felt like a chore. I've not put any creativity into it. People are getting a book, a DVD or a gift card. Again, it's the lack of time and energy thing. Plus, since I'm not going home, I won't get the pleasure of seeing anyone open my presents. So it feels like a hollow gesture.

• Debz's family will be in Palm Springs the week of Christmas, and that'll be good. But since I now work from 6:30 a.m. to approximately 6:30 p.m., that doesn't leave much time for reminiscin' and socializin'.

So yeah, Christmas, nothing personal, but I'm taking a pass this year. I'll try to make it up next year.

Saturday, December 2, 2006

East Coast vs. West Coast

The differences are slight, but they keep adding up.

Witness:

"Saturday Night Live" is not actually shown live. If it were, it would air at 8:30 PST. In fact, it airs tape-delayed at 11:30, and by the time I hear "Live from New York, it's Saturday night," it's 2:30 a.m. in the Big Apple, and the musical guest has already puked on Lorne Michaels' perfectly creased khakis at the after-show party.

The one thing that hasn't changed: at 11:30 p.m. on Saturday nights, I'm in my boxers eating M&Ms and watching a show (with the exception of Weekend Update) that's way past its prime.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Good question

I see this billboard every morning on my way to work, and it brings up a valid point:

Insurance blows

Indeed, why should I spend ALL my money on insurance? If nothing else, I'm thinking I should shift some of my income away from car and health insurance to hooker insurance. Because apparently, who couldn't use more of that?

Monday, October 30, 2006

Bullet point(lessness)

• I guess I'll be voting for the terrorists to win.

• If you ever decide to hire a moving company, may I advise against World Moving Service of Fort Lauderdale, Fla.? And for whichever moving service you decide to hire, please (and this is very important) stipulate that they not contract out to Magic Moving. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that we slept on the floor for 12 extra nights and paid $1500 more than the estimate. In fact, maybe you should just rent a truck and move yourself.

• For most of my friends and family, it's Halloween. For me, technically, I've got just under two hours. But tonight I am living vicariously through them: a steady stream of candy and Treehouses of Horror.

• The city where I now live, Desert Hot Springs, has won all sorts of awards for its tasty drinking water. While I don't consider myself a water connoisseur, I will say our tap water is crisp, refreshing and without the sulfur tang occasionally found in Blufflestank.

• Go Bears! I'm eagerly anticipating "The Super Bowl Shuffle: Sexy Rexy Remix."

Thursday, September 28, 2006

My legacy

Going out with a bang

I've put a lot of thought into my clothes for Monday, my last day at the Packet.

The way I see it, I have two choices.

In one, I dress in my usual tasteful business casual on Monday, and three years from now, this conversation will occur:

Packet staffer #1: You remember Brian Dearth?

Packet staffer #2: No.

The second scenario, also three years into the future, shapes up as such:

Packet staffer #1: You remember Brian Dearth?

Packet staffer #2: Hell yeah... he was the Web guy who wore nothing but a sportcoat and a towel on his last day. He set the bar pretty high, and even though many have tried, no one's topped him yet.

Although I did decide against following a certain IT drone's advice to respond to all reader questions by directing all of them to the same Web site. I thought maybe that might come back to haunt me.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Wakeup calls

Just a little tip for those of you who peruse the classifieds in your local paper for discount prices on goods and services... don't call at 7:45 a.m. on a Saturday. Please. Not everyone chooses to greet the weekend with a big smile and hearty hello. Some like to sleep later than they do on weekdays.

When the phone rings -- twice -- and wakes people up -- twice -- before any eights are on the board, it annoys the almighty crap out of some people -- twice.

This message was brought to you by the numbers 10 and 11 (hint, hint). Thank you.

Tuesday, August 8, 2006

Quality, not quantity

I am little ashamed that up to this moment, even Yates, the King of Blog Inconsistency, has posted something more recently than I have.

However, there is a reason why this site has gone into static mode. I simply have nothing to report at this time.

I suppose I could post a photo of the new running shoes I bought Sunday. They're orange and blue, very similar to Fightin' Illini colors. But that would be cheating you; it would be an example of quantity over quality.

I also thought about posting reviews of some movies I saw recently. But The Godfather stands on its own merit, and I was too lazy to say anything more about A Scanner Darkly other than I think I liked it more than the others who watched it with me.

So I implore you to be patient and keep me in your RSS reader. And be thankful that I didn't post photos of my cats doing cute shit just to fill up space.

And Will... it took me a few listens to get into the new Guster album. But it's worth it.

Sunday, July 2, 2006

Worse than rain, snow, sleet and hail combined

A few days ago, we received a notice that said our mailbox was unacceptable. I found this rather odd because for the 7+ months we've lived here, there's never been a problem. But suddenly our mailbox has been deemed too far from the curb. We must rectify this situation by July 3 (which is about 12 minutes from now) or our mail service will be suspended.

This is our mailbox. Notice its relation to the curb:

Our shameful mailbox

Well, dang it all! That sure is a gosh darn long way from the curb! My only guess is that we have a new mail carrier, and it's a T-Rex.

So for all of you who regularly shower me with lavish gifts, better start sending 'em FedEx.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

False alarm

The cardiologist I visited today (a.k.a. the Greatest Person In The Universe) told me that my little brush with heart disease wasn't actually that at all. It was simply an aberration, a compounding of a very minor condition I was diagnosed with at 15 combined with my questionable decision to run around a softball field when it was really goddamn hot.

So to celebrate my healthy heart, I punished it with toppings of sausage and of pepperoni. But I have given up caffeine, which is something that can trigger an episode of tachycardia. Haven't had a soda since Monday, and I'm not headachy or grumpy or anything.

Yet.

And if I seem grumpy over the next few days, it may just be because I'll be in Iowa.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Putting that health care plan to good use

Or: How to waste a perfect excuse for ditching jury duty.

Last night, the S.C. Seamless Gutters took our usual drubbing in the Beaufort Men's Softball League. The beating was even worse than usual because we had only 3 outfielders, instead of the usual 4. That meant those 3, including yours truly, had to run like hell around the not-so-well-manicured softball fields of Beaufort fetching pop flies and doubles off the wall. Despite drinking a bottle of water during the game and one after, along with some Gatorade, I felt decidedly crappy on the drive back. I think I passed out for a bit and woke up long enough to suggest to Morgan that instead of heading back home, maybe instead he should take me to the medical center out by I-95.

We got there, and Morgan helped me into a wheelchair and zipped me into the ER. I repaid him by waiting to throw up until after I got out of his car. I was somewhat relieved to note that after the IV drip was in and blood pressure readings were taken, the doctors lost interest in me. I figured if something was seriously wrong, they'd be hovering around. But apparently, the guy in the next room who took a baseball bat to the head during a bar fight was in slightly worse shape.

Eventually, the doc came back and said I had a relatively minor bout of Tachycardia, and that it was most likely a fluke, a symptom of that whole getting old thing. I get to go to a cardiologist on Thursday, but they told me it was more of a precaution than anything.

Moral of the story: Exercise is bad. Don't do it. Ever.

And against Deborah's wishes, I left the doctor's note behind and went to my jury summons today anyway. As with most scenes in Bluffton, it was rather chaotic with a lot of confused people milling around. I didn't get picked.

Tuesday, June 6, 2006

Score one for the good guys

The human race has survived this fateful day, this 6/6/(0)6.

It all came down to one pivotal battle, a battle in which good did more than merely triumph over evil; it beat the everlovin' crap out of it as the Los Angeles Angels smote the Tampa Bay Devil Rays 12-2. The Minions of Evil even scored home-field advantage (Florida, death's waiting room), but still failed to pull out the victory.

I believe it may have been a ploy by Satan, to lull this fine Christian nation into a false sense of complacency. I mean, are we really to believe that the Father of Lies would schedule the Apocalypse for such an obvious day? Too predictable... our guard was up, our hackles raised. No, Lucifer will bide his time and allow us to inhale a few more Big Macs before unleashing his Hell upon our unwitting masses.

Meanwhile, as Evil bides his time, we're safe ... until the next media-induced hyper-frenzy. Summer of the Gator, anyone?

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

A little below the eye of the tiger

WWF tiger

Debz sent our picture into WWF's photo mosaic. Can you see us? No? Look closer. We're forever memorialized as part of the tiger's shoulder. The left one. No, I don't know if tigers actually have shoulders... anthropomorphize a little, would ya? Still nothing? Here's a hint. And we're part of the tiger, not in one of the plants. That wouldn't be as cool.

This was not a particularly difficult feat to accomplish. All it took was a digital camera, an Internet connection and at least a passing interest in saving wildlife or rainforests or polar ice caps. But it's still pretty cool, and with the sheer number of people pictured, maybe some of them (the chick to our left peeking out from behind the tree? the kid sitting on the guy's shoulder above us?) will be the ones who figure out a way to save this planet.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Wheel of Fortune

Yup, the big bad Wheel was a-spinnin' in Savannah today, and I was there to see it. I'm not going to go into all the gory details, mainly because our Wheel-Watchin' buddy Allison has already captured the spirit of the event. Plus, I'm tired and about to go to bed.

Another post coming soon. Not sure when. Maybe Sunday. Maybe Monday. Come back then. It'll be worth it. I promise.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Beat that, Earl Hickey

Thanks to the annual week-long drunken idiocy also known as the Verizon Heritage, I'm working nights this week. I should work nights more often.

Here it is, not quite 12:30, and I've already crossed off everything on my Things To Do Today list. And that list didn't consist solely of Make The Bed (although that was on there). Wash dishes, mop bathroom floor, go running, finish column that's due tomorrow, pay cell phone bill, write boring filler for blog entry. All on the list. All crossed off.

Ok, I admit; I failed at one thing: mail sister's birthday present. But I gave it my best shot. When I walked into the post office, the line stretched past the door and almost around the corner that leads to the boxes. (For those of you lucky enough to be unfamiliar with the Bluffton P.O., that means there were easily 50 people in line.) The reason for the logjam was fairly easy to spot. Despite having 4 teller spots, only 2 were actually staffed. Ah, the results when one combines the ruthless efficiency of the U.S. government with the measured, intelligent growth of the Bluffton area. (For those of you lucky enough to be unfamiliar with the Bluffton area, that was sarcasm.)

Saturday, March 18, 2006

The result of sitting at home on a Saturday night

Areas of My Expertise

"I wish to clarify here that I am not against the animals. I have two cats, and they are very amusing. I have a particular fondness for those quasi-mammals called the monotremes -- the duckbilled platypus, the spiny anteater, and their ilk -- because they have beaks instead of teeth, and no external ears, and milk glands without nipples, and you have to admit that takes some gumption. Generally speaking, I think it is fair to say that I am a friend of the creatures of the earth when I am not busy eating them or wearing them.

"But recently I found myself once again at three in the morning cleaning up one of my cats' vomit, moving swiftly of course, so that the other cat would not swoop in and eat it. And at that moment, I confess I felt in my heart a certain measure of ambivalence about this relationship."

- John Hodgman in "The Areas of My Expertise"

Now I'm wondering if I found that passage noteworthy only because this morning both of my cats puked, which led to an otherwise unscheduled load of laundry.

However, it may be because Hodgman used the words "gumption" and "nipples" in the same sentence. Too bad he couldn't squeeze them into the same clause. That would have been impressive. Like this: Maybe Hodgman just didn't have the gumption, a word that sends many nipples atwitter, to do so.

Drat. So close. I'll keep thinking.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Insulated Island

Despite outcry from his own party, George W. Bush is planning to turn over control of six major East Coast ports to a company in a country with established ties to terrorism. In Alito's first month, the Supreme Court is already paving the way to overturning Roe v. Wade. Men are trapped in a collapsed Mexican mine. Children are buried by a mudslide in the Philippines.

And what's got Hilton Head Island's undies in a bundle? Cracker Barrel's closin'.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Poseur Central

I was going to write a long-winded rant about the place in Atlanta Deborah, Saraq and I stumbled upon Saturday night filled with halfwit hipster wannabes who pretended to impress each other with their inane philosophies on music, politics and life when all they really wanted to do was sell each other their crappy art. (Note to hipsters, a collection of travel-size toiletries is not fine art. It's spring cleaning.)

However, I got halfway through writing it up when I realized it would bore the bejeezus out of anyone who didn't experience it. It probably would have bored Deborah and Saraq as well. And now that I think back on it, I was pretty bored as I lived through it.

So instead I'm going to sit back and take in the first Daily Show to air after Dick Cheney shotgunned a man in the face. I suppose the vice president needed to update his resume.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Weirded out

Thanks to Marty, I'm supposed to lay my soul bare and vomit out 5 weird things about myself. Normally, I'd just laugh at Marty's answers, but since I haven't posted anything in over a week, I'll bite.

So I present The Five Weird Things About Brian (That He's Willing to Share With Others):

1. I don't put milk on my cereal. I have a glass of milk to accompany my cereal, but they must not intermingle until they are safely tucked away in my innards.

2. I don't think Monty Python is very funny. I'm told this makes me weird.

3. In college, I worked with bulk mailings for four years. To this day, I have retained most of my knowledge about U.S. zip codes. I'm pretty decent with U.S. area codes as well.

4. Debz says I'm weird because I cut up my spaghetti. She says: "It's spaghetti for retards. I mean honestly, the whole point of spaghetti is so you can twirl it on your fork, not cut it up into little bite sized worms." I say, much like Oreos Reese's, there is no wrong way to eat spaghetti.

5. I like that one Jewel song.

Saturday, December 3, 2005

Transition to new headquarters complete

After several bruises, a multitude of dropped items, countless obscenities (occasionally mumbled, more often vocalized at much higher volume levels), two truck rentals, and one major cat freak-out, we're moved in to our new home.

Obviously, we would not have moved away from idyllic Myrtle Island without good reason (landlord's parents moving in), but the new place has a few amenities the ol' fishing camp lacked. So while I no longer live on the river surrounded by live oaks and Spanish moss, I also no longer need to turn off the living room light by unscrewing the bulb. Nor do I have to worry about the shower head falling from the wall and onto my foot while shampoo runs into my eyes. And the laundry machines are no longer outside. That sure makes up for never again being able to sit on the dock at dusk, watching the tide roll in and the stars pop into the sky.

Props go to Saraq and Will for assistance with moving the pottery equipment; Marty for the previous reason plus helping to move the first load to the new house; and Morgan and Allison for their 90 seconds of help in moving our behemoth of a couch 20 feet from the lawn to the living room in exchange for dinner. Worth every penny.

Also, as you might be able to ascertain from the previous paragraph, I have decided I will no longer associate myself with anyone who does not have a web site. Sorry, but it's almost 2006, and it's time for a little tough love.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Your drivers license is online!

I got an e-mail this afternoon from Betsy today that read:

"This is upsetting, thought I should pass it along. ... Now you can see anyone's Driver's License on the Internet, including your own! I just searched for mine and there it was... picture and all! Thanks, Homeland Security! ... I definitely removed mine, I suggest you all do the same... Go to the website and check it out. Just enter your name, city and state to see if yours is on file. After your license comes on the screen, click the box marked "Please Remove". This will remove it from public viewing, but not from law enforcement: http://www.license.shorturl.com"

Betsy added her own note at the top that said: "I checked Snopes first - no mention of it being a hoax, so I checked it out and removed mine. Doesn't seem legal that they could do this..."

Before you panic, and if the URL didn't already tip you off, it is a joke (and the end result is kinda funny so give it a shot). However, it had me going for a while, especially considering the nice little personal touch from Betsy, who is not one to pass along bogus chain e-mails.

But the reason I was taken by it is because this is exactly the sort of thing Americans have come to expect from the Bush administration. Five years ago, no one would have fallen for this for even a second.

Thanks, Homeland Security, indeed.

Thursday, October 6, 2005

Tammy's tantrum


post-tammy100605
Originally uploaded by bdearth.

Tropical disturbances are fun!

Tammy hit this area last night, and this is what the yard looked like this morning. All night, I kept hoping to hear the small thumps of tree branches bouncing off the roof instead of the loud crash of a full tree popping into the living room.

When the power blinked out around 9 p.m. last night, I wasn't surprised. The power seems to go out whenever someone sneezes near a power line. But I gotta give SCE&G credit; they had everything back on in about an hour. And just in time for the Daily Show.

Our landlord also said this morning that Myrtle Island experienced about a three-foot storm surge. She said the dock and walkway were fully submerged, which explains why they were completely covered with dead marsh grass.

Now this is all from a tropical storm, and a fairly weak one at that, with sustained winds in the 45 mph range. Compare that with the 170 mph winds of Katrina, and it just blows (ha!) the mind.

All those people along the Gulf Coast who had the means, but not the brains, to evacuate ahead of Katrina and didn't: You are freakin' insane. Please report to the nearest sterilization clinic immediately so your lack of common sense can be clipped off at your branch of the family tree.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Bye.

I'm not a car guy. If the thing gets me from Point A to Point B, that's good enough for me. But I was sad to see that Dodge ended production on the Neon this week.

My last 10 years and 120,000 miles have been spent behind the wheel of a Neon. I got a pretty shiny red one in 1996 and replaced that with a more sophistimacated blue model in 2003. I didn't buy them because I was a diehard member of some Neon owners club. I've owned them because my dad works at the at Belvidere, Illinois, Chrysler plant (which, coincidently, is the very facility that produces produced the Neon), and at the time, the Neon was the cheapest car Dodge manufactured.

But I've never had anything go (really) wrong with either of them, and they get good gas mileage. My only complaint is that my current Neon only has a 10-gallon tank, which means I have to stop every 300 miles, minimum, to fill it up. If Dodge kept cranking 'em out, I'd get another Neon when I'm buying my next car, which I hope won't be for at least another five years. I guess I'll have to find something else.

But it won't be that Akino. That thing looks like it might break after maybe one week.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Triple digits

100 degrees

Going outside right now produces the same sensation you feel when a sweaty sumo wrestler sits on you.

At least, I assume so. I've never actually met a sumo wrestler, much less angered one to the point where he sat on my abdomen after a grueling match. But when I was 10 or so, this fat kid Jason tackled me playing football, and then he wouldn't get off me. That was pretty unpleasant, and it reminds me of what outside feels like today.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Brake gas brake ... Honk honk punch

idiots

It took Matt and me 25 minutes yesterday to go from work to a restaurant three miles away. Because of the 278 widening project. It's a mess out there again today.

Apparently, I'm not the only one getting pissed off over it.

I'm not sure which is worse: the local and state officials who decided to start working on the road widening project right in the middle of tourist season (and also at the beginning of hurricane season) or the idiot drivers around here who slow down almost to a stop to creep over the metal plates over the highway that are contributing to the jams. Come on, people... the plates are not that thick! And since you're heading to Hilton Head, there's about a 90% chance you're driving an SUV, which, if you recall, were originally designed for people to take off road. Move it along!

To fend off the argument from people in Boston or Chicago or Atlanta, I am well aware that much larger cities have their share of traffic problems. But at least you have more than one route around the city. If the interstate is backed up, you can take a bypass or any number of side roads. Might not be the most convenient way, but it beats inhaling exhaust for three hours. In the Lowcountry, if 278 is a big snafu (as it is more frequently these days), we have a choice between inhaling exhaust for three hours or staying home. There is no other road to get to Hilton Head or all the way through Bluffton.

Chris is right: This place needs a good dose of the plague.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Bluffton Today ... Gone Tomorrow

The Island Packet's "competition" -- Bluffton Today -- is never going to be as great as they like to think they are, and this is part of the reason.

Sure, everyone who works at The Packet has gotten our fair share of calls and e-mails from crackpots, Packet haters and the downright clueless. We crack up over 'em and pass 'em along to a couple co-workers and share the laughs. But no one would ever even think of publicly posting any of them to the site. Not only because that employee would be reprimanded, if not fired, but because it's a juvenile and unprofessional thing to do. It's on about the same maturity level as a high school kid's personal site that makes fun of the principal.

Morris, which owns Bluffton Today, sends out dozens of press releases each week boasting about their shiny new journalistic experiment to whomever in the news industry will listen. What do other reporters, editors and publishers think when they visit BT's site and see this?

This has been linked from the top of BT's home page for about five days now so they're obviously proud of their handiwork. The managing editor chimed in as well, so it's not just some reporter firing off one last good missive before packing his bags.

Stunts like this may get a few more people to read Bluffton Today, but it certainly won't get those people to respect it.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Two wrongs make an even bigger wrong

Everyone knows that the Gatekeeper and the Keymaster are at the crux of the universe and the joining of these powerfully evil beings could unleash a hell unlike anything this world has ever seen.

This is kinda like that.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

What would YOU do?

I faced a dilemma on Wednesday, and I'm not sure if I made the right choice. But before you start thinking I may have botched a major life decision, let me first say it involved a toilet.

At lunch, I walked into a bathroom at a restaurant. This particular men's room is a one-holer, and that one hole had piss all over it. I remembered one of the benefits of being male as I stood a little farther back from the bowl than usual and neatly eliminated two refills of Diet Coke. But I opened the door to stand face-to-face with a guy waiting his turn.

Here's the dilemma:

Do I tell a complete stranger that the tinkle all over the toilet he's about to use is not mine but some other inconsiderate bastard's?

Or...

Do I silently head back to my table, leaving the next guy to assume that I was the one who sprayed the john?

Neither option is very appealing. I chose to remain silent and let the guy assume I can't aim to avoid an awkward conversation about urine with a stranger. Did I make the right call?

Monday, April 11, 2005

Into the black

It's appropriate that the first time I filled out a form with "Age: 30," I was at the doctor's office. I'm not going to go into detail why I was at the doctor's, except to say it involved a shoe being thrown at a wall at high speed and a slightly torn muscle in my right arm. You can probably piece together the rest on your own. If you can't, use your imagination, and the story you come up with almost surely will be more interesting than what actually happened.

So anyway, back in the doctor's office, the guy told me that I'm perfectly healthy, but my body just can't do the things it could when I was in college. He told me I need to ease into strenuous activities, not jump right in. For example, throwing shoes against walls as hard as one can, without properly warming up by gently throwing shoes against walls, can lead to arm injuries.

Essentially, what the good doctor was saying was, "You're getting old. This shit is going to happen more and more, until finally, it will happen once too often or once too hard, and you'll die. Now if you'll take these forms up front, Melissa will fax this in to your insurance provider."

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Buck Fluffton

As all seasoned Blufftonians know, when traffic's backed up on Hwy. 278, you stay the hell away from it. Even if you want to meander a scant half mile from the Buck Island light to the Kroger shopping complex, you're better off taking a detour.

So when I planned to head down that exact route to meet the rest of the IT department for lunch yesterday and saw that 278 heading east was a parking lot, I swung around and headed south on Buck Island and hung a left on Simmonsville Road back toward Quiznos. My plan was stymied by ambulances, police cars and three ex-cars in front of the dump on Simmonsville. The accident filled the entire road so I joined the mad scramble of others turning around. I sped back down Simmonsville and took a left on 46 toward the Bluffton four-way stop.

Foolproof, eh? Not in goddamn Bluffton, thanks to a half-mile backup at the four-way stop. This was when I started punching the steering wheel. My hand feels better today, thank you.

I took a quick left at the Piggly Wiggly, cut through the neighborhood and came out to 46 at Mi Tierra. Of course, it's pretty much impossible to make a left out of there at lunch time. After about 5 minutes, I lost patience and risked bodily injury and higher insurance premiums by tearing out through the intersection.

The rest of the trip was trouble-free, but it took me over 30 minutes and 10 miles to end up half a mile from where I started. I hate this town. Not quite as much as Chris does, but I'm getting there.

For those of you unfamiliar with Bluffton's geography: here's a play-by-play I created last night when my Internet connection went down and there was nothing on TV. Oh, the horror.

Friday, March 4, 2005

Color by numbers

Deborah was surprised when her mom described how she associates numbers with certain colors. Then she was even more surprised to find out I do the same thing. I associate some months, days of the week and people with specific colors as well (I'm dark blue, anyone who's first name starts with A is red), but those associations aren't nearly as strong as the numbers.

Am I in the minority here on this? Maybe I had colored flash cards or blocks with numbers as a kid, and they've stuck with me. Maybe it's something Sesame Street did. Maybe I'm just a weirdo.

For the record... 1 - whitish-blue; 2 - red; 3 - green; 4 - purple; 5 - burnt orange; 6 - dull blue; 7 - dark blue; 8 - yellow; 9 - red again; 10 - black.

Friday, February 25, 2005

Is there something in the water?

What the hell's wrong with Tyler, Texas?

First, there was the woman who was abducted from Tyler's Wal-Mart and found dead in western Texas.

Then last weekend, some psycho killed his pregnant girlfriend and her 7-year-old kid in Fort Worth. Where was the guy from? Yep. Tyler.

Finally yesterday, a guy starts blasting away with an AK-47 on Tyler's downtown square, killing two, wounding four and then departing his own earthly being courtesy of police gunfire.

Now whenever I see a headline on the web about a murder in Texas, I click on it just to see if it's Tyler again.

When I lived in Tyler a few years ago, I thought it was a pleasant little city. The population is only about 80,000. Friendly people, world-famous Rose Garden, LOTS of churches, low low prices. Now these three incidents in a one-month span? It's definitely unsettling. I'm surprised the media hasn't connected all these dots and labeled Tyler the Murder Capitol of Texas. Come on, 60 Minutes, get with the program! You can't just wait for the next Summer of the Shark! You gotta blaze the trail!

And I didn't even mention that Bible belter a couple years ago who claimed God told her to kill her children. So she did. In Tyler, you do what God tells you.

Friday, January 14, 2005

Escape velocity

It's no secret that I'm not going to become a spokesman for Hilton Head Island any time soon. This area is mostly populated with people who have a lot more money than brains.

Earlier this week I received a one-way ticket out of town when Nando Media in Raleigh offered me a job. (Yeah... when I took last Friday off, I was interviewing up there.) Today I turned them down.

All my bitching about Hilton Head aside, I have a secure job here that I like with people I really enjoy hanging out with. Despite being in a cool city and meeting some great people at Nando, the offer just wasn't enough to uproot me.

Plus, I didn't want to deal with moving Deborah's goddamn big-ass kiln.

Monday, December 13, 2004

I wish I had gas

Because last night, I ran out. Turned on the stove and got nothing. No pilot. The lack of gas was confirmed when the presence of hot water could not be detected anywhere in the house.

So the gas guy comes this afternoon and fills up the tank. How fortunate... I had an extra $300 that I was going to do something foolish with. Like pay my student loan this month. How silly of me!

But when we got home from dinner, the smell of gas inside the house was pretty strong. Mmmmm, pure natural gas. Nothing like it! We decided it was probably best to call the gas company. The gas company decided it was probably best to turn off the gas, and they'd come out to take a look tomorrow. So tomorrow at work, when I'm not smelling my freshest, it's because I decided not to subject my body to a couple of minutes of ice-cold water to achieve my usual flowery scent. Sorry.

Now the cat is loopy on gas and has earned the name Mr. Stumbly. He managed to tangle himself in the shower curtain AND in the Christmas tree in the past half hour while running around like someone shot a rocket up his ass. Although it's a good thing no one actually shot a rocket in here. An open flame would not be in our best interests right now.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go tapdance with the ghost of Kelly Kapowski in the bedroom. lalalalalalala....

Friday, December 10, 2004

Yahtzee!

Yahtzee!

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Stay away from Yellowstone

SuperVolcano!

The National Geographic Channel can scare the bejesus out of me a lot more effectively than any slasher flick or color-coded terrorist attack scale could ever do.

Case in point: I learned there's a supervolcano simmering just under the surface of Yellowstone National Park. It has exploded three times in the geologically recent past: 2.1 million years ago, 1.3 million years ago and 650,000 years ago. Do the math.

As you may have inferred, this is no mere volcano. Ever heard of Mt. St. Helens? Krakatoa? Tambora? Mere cherry bombs compared to what this bastard would do when it blows (and the grim tones of the show's narrator informed me that it is "when" and not "if").

All of Wyoming, most of Idaho and a good chunk of Montana would be a smoking hole. Places as far away as Chicago would be coated with up to 3 feet of ash made of fine jagged particles of rock that can shred lung tissue. There's also the possibility that the explosion could trigger a minor Ice Age. Happy stuff.

But fortunately, the supervolcano would warn us in the form of earthquakes and increased geyser activity before it explodes, and this hasn't happened yet. But stay on your guard... the Red Sox are not only in the World Series, but they won the first game and are currently winning Game 2. At least they're not playing the Cubs.

Saturday, August 14, 2004

A whole lotta nuthin'

The past two days we heard nothing but "The Hurricane is Coming!" The state called for voluntary evacuations in this area yesterday. They even shut down Disney World in Orlando! That doesn't happen for some wimpy tropical storm... think of the dollars lost!

Since I live on a tidal river at an elevation of maybe 3 feet with tons of huge trees looming over the house, I headed to Vicki's with the cats, who apparently don't understand the concept of "85 mph winds" and were NOT happy about their overnight digs.

Woke up this morning to see it rained a little bit. Drove home to see no branches down. Compared to what happened to Florida's unfortunate west coast, I'm feeling exceptionally lucky right now.

Thank you, Charley, for sparing the tasteful landscaping and calm lagoons of Hilton Head and instead unleashing your fury on the unholy specter of Myrtle Beach.

Monday, August 2, 2004

Upgrades

I forgot to mention that we moved. It was only about 100 feet, to the other house on the property, but the benefits of the new house far outweigh the annoyance of hauling all our crap around and fighting with the local utilities.

Let me briefly point out a few differences between the two houses...

The new house: 2 bedrooms, 2 baths.
The old house: 1 bedroom, 1 bath.

The new house: Central heat and air (current temp: 72).
The old house: A wall unit that didn't work very well and was about as loud as a 747 (current temp: 89).

The new house: Dishwasher.
The old house: Deborah.

The new house: Shower with bathtub.
The old house: Cinderblock shower that resembles a scene from "The Shawshank Redemption."

The new house: Quaint woodburning stove.
The old house: Fires were accidental and frantically extinguished.

The new owners wanted us out so they could completely renovate the smaller house. Right now, there's a huge dumpster sitting out in front, filled with the entire interior of the house I lived in less than two weeks ago. I slipped inside earlier tonight (the house, not the dumpster). The place had been stripped down to the concrete walls and floor. I felt a little down to see my old house, my memories, gutted ... and then I remembered I no longer had to bitch about the lack of AC, and I felt better.

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Pop quiz

Don't worry... this isn't anything like Mrs. Schubert's vicious 3rd period freshman English quizzes. This one is pretty easy, and it's only one question:

How long does it take to install a new high-speed cable Internet connection in a Bluffton home?

a) An hour. "It's a very simple process, sir. A technician just needs to enable your cable connection for Internet access and drop off a cable modem."

b) A day or two. "We have a few people who have appointments ahead of you, but we will be able to have your installation completed by the close of business tomorrow."

c) Just over two weeks. "Our scheduling department will forget to call you to make an appointment, and when you call back to remind us you exist, we'll come up with an excuse to delay you, such as having no cable modems in stock. Then we'll take another couple days to call you to inform you that our technicians won't be able to get to your house for another week. Finally, our technician will arrive but leave before you can confirm the connection is working. Your attempts to figure it out on your own will be futile, leading you to bribe your entire IT department to come over and take a look. But even they are defeated by technology. Finally, after you have resigned yourself to making another appointment with a technician, your connection inexplicably will start working. Have a nice day."

You have 30 minutes to finish. This test will comprise 90% of your final grade. Good luck.

Monday, July 12, 2004

Once upon a time ...

There was a pleasant lot at the end of the street. It was a pristine piece of land, overlooking the May River and filled with dozens of tall pine trees as well as live oaks decorated with Spanish moss. No house, no driveway, not even a mailbox. Just an acre and a half filled with trees backing up to the river.

Then the lot went up for sale. And it sold quickly. Based on the location and the size, I'm guessing the buyer tossed out close to a cool million for that handsome lot.

The first thing the new owner did was this.

Congratulations, new owner, for creating the ugliest goddamn site on Myrtle Island. Why in the hell would you buy that beautiful piece of land if this is what you planned to do to it?

Sheesh, now I sound like my hippie tree-huggin' girlfriend.

Monday, May 31, 2004

Weekend wrapup

Some quick thoughts as the world drifts toward a gloriously shortened work week:

• Kung Pow: Enter the Fist is not as bad as Yates says it is. However, it's nowhere near as good as Morgan says.

• I was disappointed in Club Dread. It was ok, but it was no Super Troopers. C'mon, Broken Lizard, bring back Farva!

• When you're floating in the ocean and a dolphin surfaces 20 feet away, that's pretty nifty. But don't get any closer. Dolphins are rather pissy when they're hung over.

• Don't try to get on or off Hilton Head Island on a Saturday until after Labor Day unless you have about 3 hours to kill.

• How did Calgary not win Game 4?

• Oh yeah... almost forgot. This one's actually important. My landlord sold the property I live on. Is there a new address in the near future, you ask? I'm not certain at this point. The couple who bought the place reassured me that we're welcome to stay, but there's nothing in writing. They seem sincere though. The one thing that's got me scratching my head is that my landlord said he'll honor our lease until it ends, which is September 30. But I heard him say the new owners will close on the place at the end of June. Now, how does one honor a lease and collect rent for three months on a property one does not own? I've played enough Monopoly to know that's not how it works. Stay tuned...

Monday, May 24, 2004

Black gold, Texas tea

Yesterday I paid $19.09 (at $1.98 per gallon) to replenish the fumes left in the 10-gallon tank of my Neon.

But I didn't feel so bad. The man in the big ol' Excursion at the pump before me suffered a hit of $67. This same guy probably bitched to the very next person he talked to about how gas prices are ridiculous nowadays. Most likely, he never acknowledged (or realized) his small role in how they got that way. It's your right to buy that SUV, dude. I'm sure it serves you well when you're tackling those monster speed bumps at the Food Lion. But I don't want to hear you whining about how much it costs to fill your tank every other day.

Think about all the cars you see on the roads in your city every day. Now multiply that by the thousands of towns and cities in America. Then think of all the cars motoring along roads in towns and cities across the world. I'm surprised we haven't drilled this planet dry already.

Maybe a future administration (obviously it won't be the current regime) will place a priority on developing a renewable energy source instead of offering tax breaks to those who purchase tanks that get 11 miles per gallon.

Thursday, May 6, 2004

My horoscope for today

** DISCLAIMER: I never read horoscopes, but I'm forced to today because I'm working on the A&E site at work. **

Thursday, May 6
PISCES -- Taking care of your health is a top priority today. You may be using food as a way to repress your feelings. You find yourself in an uncomfortable social setting tonight. Make polite noises and slip away when no one is looking.

So basically, my day should boil down to this:

• Feed me before I fucking kill somebody. But make sure it's healthy.

• How will my idiot friends embarrass me tonight?

• Does "polite noise" equal "fart"?

Tuesday, May 4, 2004

There are seven (7) lies in this post

How many can YOU find...?

Tonight I sat down to my favorite dinner of cabbage and non-pasteurized milk when it hit me... I haven't updated my site in well over a week! Egad!

So I sat down at my PC running a non-retarded version of Windows and tried to think of something to write about.

I started to write about my job. But no one wants to go behind the scenes of a slaughterhouse.

I thought, hey, maybe I could write about Debz, the girl who is NEVER annoyed to the brink of insanity by me. But she was huddled in a corner, brandishing a butcher knife. And believe me, I know better than to rock the boat when her left eye starts twitching uncontrollably like that!

I finally decided to thrill my loyal readers with tales from the mailbox! Today, I received the cable bill and the April issue of Nintendo Power. (FINALLY!) What will tomorrow bring? The Val-Pack coupon book? Something for Allan, the guy who hasn't lived here for at least two years? Only time will tell!

Friday, April 16, 2004

Not a good sign

Question from girl: "What the hell did you eat?!? Your breath smells like fish or catfood or something!"

Apparently, sesame chicken + diet Coke + 2 hours = salmon-flavored Meow Mix. Who knew?

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Called off

The OFTPMS has been canceled. As of today at 4:45 p.m., the tree was confirmed gone. The neighbors took care of it quickly when I was positive they'd ignore it. And yes, I realize that now I kind of look like an ass.

Monday, April 12, 2004

Official launch of the OFTPMS

Big storm. Much wind. Tree fall down. Driveway blocked. Bad.

And the tree isn't even ours. It's our neighbor's.

(Quick explanation about the neighbors: They try to ignore us as much as possible. It's not necessarily that they don't like us; they'd rather just pretend we're not there. I don't know why this is. In turn, we like to pretend they don't exist. This arrangement seems to be working well for everyone.)

So now there's this fallen tree that I, unfortunately, can't ignore. I also don't have an axe or chain saw or anything else that can get rid of a tree of its size. Fortunately, I can just squeeze the car through the yard to get out. But in doing so, I heard branches scraping metal. Plus, the whole thing is inconvenient and annoying.

So we very politely asked the neighbors to take care of it as soon as possible. Apparently, they have a "tree guy" who deals with this kind of stuff, and they promised to call him posthaste, before they leave on vacation tomorrow. I'm Mr. Skeptical on this one, mainly because the neighbors didn't seem real concerned about our predicament. So until the tree is gone, this is no longer a blog... it's the official Online Fallen Tree Position Monitoring Station (OFTPMS).

I'm also taking suggestions for a better acronym.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Hear Ye! Hear Ye! A Proclamation!

Let it be known that henceforth from this day, all drivers who dwell within or holiday upon the Isle of Hilton Head must successfully complete the Chris Yates School of Driving for Gentlemen & Noblewomen™. Lesson One.

Wednesday, March 3, 2004

Blackout '04

Well, goddamn... the power went out for THREE WHOLE HOURS tonight!! No television, no computer. Panic ensued. Looting was considered. Went out for Mexican instead. Obviously, everything is back to normal now, and the important thing is no one was hurt the cable's back on.

The Alaska trip is starting to come together. That's exciting. And expensive. If your name's not Vicki, Tim or Sharon, you won't give a flying rat's ass, but here's the **official** Alaska itinerary page.

And if you're celebrating your birthday today, enjoy your cake! I hope you got chocolate. You may already know you share a birthday with such luminaries as Tone-Loc and David Faustino.

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Can't get enough of that sweet sweet pseudoephedrine

You know that kind of sick where your head is so stuffed up that you're afraid it's going to explode? That's what I've had for the past two days.

Fortunately, the body has a built-in valve release called the nose that drips out just enough snot to prevent a violent rupture.

The worst thing about staying home all day is that daytime TV is a wasteland. As tempting as it may sound, "American Ninja 4: The Annihilation" pretty much sucks. Although it is preferable to Regis, Oprah and Judge Judy.

Tuesday, February 10, 2004

Saturated with cheese

$704.08.

That's how much I spend per year on my twice-weekly pilgrimage to Amigo's (that's a highly addictive Mexican restaurant for all you non-Carolinians). Chris makes me go with him every Monday and Friday for lunch or else I'm fired. I spend $6.77 every time for a plate of quesadillas and a soda. I no longer have to tell the owner what I want, and he even remembers I don't like sour cream.

And sometimes, I get dinner there, or maybe stop in on Saturday afternoon for lunch. I figure those unscheduled visits push the grand total per year up to about $850. Which means I spend 1/6 as much on Amigo's as I do on rent. Every goddamn year.

I thought about digging out old bank statements to find out exactly how much I have spent there, but I've decided I'd rather not know how much cheese I've ingested.

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

Regression to infancy complete

This morning, I sprayed white toothpaste on my dark blue shirt. At lunch, I dropped marinara sauce in the crotch of my white khakis. During my afternoon soda, I dumped Coke on my right leg. And I haven't dealt with the adventure of dinner yet.

Today I made my one and only New Year's resolution: to learn how to eat without splattering food all over my idiot self.

Friday, December 26, 2003

I made it!

Debz, in case you happen to read this from Michigan: I have not gone out into the garage to snoop for my Christmas present. Yes, you read that correctly... This entire week while you were gone, I have stayed out of the garage. I haven't even gone out there to get the litter so I can refill the cats' grossly overflowing litter box. People at work have been marveling at my restraint, saying that they'd never be able to keep themselves from spoiling the surprise.

But I figure it's the least I can do since I didn't get you anything.

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Actual phone conversation at work

Me: Hello, Island Packet, this is Brian.

Caller: Hi. You said your name was Frank?

Me: No, it's Brian. How can I help you?

Caller: Well, Frank...

Me: No, it's BRIAN.

Caller: You see, Frank, I was having trouble with my login password... blahblahblah... (manages to ramble for five minutes about something he could have condensed into two sentences)...

Me: Ok, I'll take a look and call you back in a few minutes.

Caller: I appreciate that Frank... - click -

So I figure out his password problem and call him back.

Me: Hello, Elmer?

Elmer: Hi Frank! Thanks for getting back to me.

Me: You're welcome... (I then solve his problem)...

Elmer: That worked! Thanks a lot, Frank! I'll be sure to let someone know how helpful you were!

Me: Actually, my name is...

- click -

Monday, December 15, 2003

It's hard to get out of slug mode

When I left the house this morning at 9 to go to work, it was the first time since around noon on Saturday that I stepped outside. That's almost two days - 48 straight hours - of screen-watching, sleeping and general time-wasting. I really know how to maximize a weekend! In my defense, it was chilly and rainy, and all my pants were in the washing machine.

Most of my TV watching revolved around NFL games I could care less about, the Simpsons and the constant showing of an unshaven Saddam, resigned to his fate: a lifetime in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.

Is there anything that movie can't be quoted for?

Tuesday, December 9, 2003

There's nothing like waking to the smell of teeth burning

I woke up this morning to find myself in the dentist chair with a smorgasbord of stimuli: the smell of roasting enamel, the sight of sparks flying from my mouth and the sound of a whirring drill.

Of course, I really didn't sleepwalk into a cavity filling... I had an appointment. I just never actually wake up until an hour or so after I get up. I'm not what you would call a morning person.

Fortunately, my 8 a.m. novacaine did not prevent me from enjoying a big ol' Subway sandwich for lunch. Jared would be proud.

Sunday, December 7, 2003

Top 6 reasons it now feels like Christmas

1. My pitiful little fake 6-foot-high tree has been adorned with a tangled mess of lights that is the poster child seen on many a fire hazard prevention brochure.

2. The cats have been threatened with death for attacking said tree.

3. Deborah has yelled at me for looking at her computer screen, which evidently means my present is coming from amazon.com this year. (This has been repeated several times today.)

4. My annual viewing of "A Christmas Story" has been completed.

5. I have gorged myself on Christmas Mint M&Ms.

6. Oh screw it, I'm tired, I have to get up early tomorrow, and I have a slight stomach ache from the M&Ms. You only get five. G'night.

Sunday, November 16, 2003

46 down, 14 to go?

And we're still in our house. On October 1, our landlord put the property it sits on up for sale. He said he just wants to test the waters until December 1. I don't believe him, mainly because he just replaced his "For Sale By Owner" sign with a realtor's. That doesn't sound like someone who's just exploring the market for another couple weeks.

Plus, it appears someone is screwing with our mail. Two Netflix envelopes were partially ripped open in the mailbox, although the DVDs were still in there. Deborah thinks it's because the potential thieves got spooked by something. I think it's because she orders these weird, obscure DVDs no one would want to steal.

Monday, November 10, 2003

Entrant in the "Maybe Not Such A Good Idea" category

Bumper sticker seen at lunch today: "Quit honking. I'm reloading." On the back of a U.S. Mail truck.

You'd think at some point a supervisor might step in and suggest that isn't exactly the image postal workers would like to project to the public.

Friday, October 31, 2003

Handing out Vicks Vap-O-Rub for Halloween

Almost two weeks ago, a pair of Jehoviah's Witnesses knocked on the door in a futile attempt at conversion. Deborah answered and in an attempt to get rid of them as soon as possible, accepted the pamphlets they offered. One of them proclaimed that all sicknesses are God's way of punishing sinners. We compared this theory unfavorably to a steaming pile of hippo poo.

Deborah has been sick ever since.

Pumpkins ahoy!

So for the past two weeks, I've fallen asleep to the soothing sounds of Deborah hacking in my ear. When I've tried to give her a comforting hug, my grip keeps slipping away due to the massive amounts of Vicks Vap-O-Rub slathered all over her body.

As for Halloween, we got no trick-or-treaters (yay! more Skittles for me!), and I suck at carving pumpkins, as evidenced in Fig. 1. That's supposed to be a Goodbye Kitty with a butcher knife sticking out of its head.

I told you I suck at carving pumpkins.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

I hate Daylight Savings

5:45 p.m. and it's dark already. This sucks.

Saturday, October 25, 2003

Don't get your footsies wet

This is apparently Hilton Head's motto.

Tonight we went to see a movie. The sky was clear when we went in. Two hours later, it was raining. Very lightly. It really wasn't much more than a heavy fog. Nevertheless, we had to elbow our way past the throng of people huddled together under the overhang in front of the theater, waiting for their knights in shining armor to pull the car (or, as in most cases, the mammoth SUV) as close as humanly possible to the exit door, lest a single drop of rain spoil a painstakingly perfect hairstyle. That scene was more amusing than the movie.

Oh yeah... the movie. "Intolerable Cruelty" starring George Clooney and the yummy Catherine Zeta-Jones. Deborah called it "awful." I uttered a few giggles, but it was nothing spectacular.

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