Super Bowl Saturday

As you can see, Super Bowl fever is creeping in over here at SCOPE-TECH, and we couldn't be happier. Even got me a countdown going! -->

Here's a little dose of trivia for you, so you can sound knowledgeable at your party tomorrow:

For first two years it was "AFL-NFL World Championship Game". The first "Super Bowl" to be played was Super Bowl III. Joe Namath and his New York Jets beat the Baltimore Colts in Miami on January 12, 1969. The previous two games were retroactive named "Super Bowl I" and "Super Bowl II". Much like "WWI" was not called such at the time.

And while some may view this as sacrilege, I think the game should be moved off of Sunday and to Saturday. It is, effectively, an unofficial national holiday. And with the game played so late, and the parties going, a lot of people REALLY don't want to have to get up and go to work the next day.

More later, but I gotta get to the store and stock up, before the snack aisle has been picked clean. But don't forget to come on back tomorrow, for some live game blogging.

But before I go:

A little something for the iNDefatigable mjenks:



And a little Super Bowl history for you:


Oh, and Madden… SUCK IT! (Not a Super Bowl moment. But who cares?)

Breaking News...

Springfield, IL - In what they are calling a "preemptive strike" federal authorities have just indicted Illinois' new governor, Pat Quinn.

A spokesman for the FBI. Was quoted, "It's only a matter of time. How clean can any high ranking Illinois politician be?" He then shot a furtive glance at the newly hung picture of the 44th President of the United States before stammering out a quick, "Well, umm, I mean..."

Super Bowl Party: My Place

As you may or may not know, there's a fairly big football game going on down in Tampa this weekend. The Pittsburgh Steelers will be playing in the Super Bowl. They will be playing for their 6th Super Bowl Championship, which will put them one up on the 49ers and (yeah right) "America's Team" the Cowboys. My choice is obvious.



This year, since I'll be alone for the game, I thought I'd invite you all over here. To my blog. Like Candy did at Christmas, I will be hosting a Super Bowl blog party right here.

• Cheer with me when the men in black and gold make a spectacular play.
• Razz me when Roethlisberger throws a goal line interception.
• Tell me what commercials you like and what sucked rocks.
• How was the Boss?
  

So come on over.

You're in STEELER COUNTRY!

On The Pillow Case

So, you all remember Gwen's post about the creepy pillow, right. The one designed to give you that special little reach-around. If not, or for a refresher, go check it out [LINK] then come back here for my follow up. [And this is officially sanctioned by Gwen, so I don't go thinking I'm ripping her off, monkeys* :-) ]

But what about us guys? What do we get? MelO sent me this cartoon, and it's a good start, but only a cartoon after all. I want something real.

So, I was talking to Vince, from ShamWOW, about it. And he said to try the Japanese. You know the Japanese always make messed up kinky sex stuff.

Oh wise and insightful Vince. Are you following me blog reader? Cause I can't do this all day.

The first thing I found were THESE mousepads turned into pillow. Good, and who know, if you could have them printed with an anime or a magna avatar of your own choosing… [LINK]**

But then (cue angelic voices… LAAAAAAA) I found THIS. Mmmmm sweater muffins…

But now I'm having a creepy thought of the breast pillow and the arm pillow getting a little "brown chicken / brown cow" action going on.

============================

FYI - The first blog I ever started reading is called Gizmodo. I've linked to it in the past, and above. It's a good source of finding out what's new in Tech, Lego, and Weird Crap. I read it in the morning, and again in the evening.

* Okay, calling you "monkeys" is done more as an homage to Gwen, not a rip off, 'k?

** And admit it, you so thought that link was going to Cora's profile picture, didn't you?

Hibernation Fest '08

* This interview was pre-recorded. Due to security reasons, it had to wait to be published until the new administration took power.

Cartoon Bears "Pigged Out"Before Hibernation Fest '08

Care Bears not invited after last year's My Little Pony incident.

Jellystone Park - Several cartoon bears have been spotted on what some observers describe as a "furry feeding frenzy" as they attempt to fatten up for this year's hibernation. "This is typical bear-havior," said Ranger Smith. "Every fall, they go on an overeating orgy trying to fatten up for the winter."

The group's spokes bear, Boris the Bear, agreed to talk to SCOPE-TECH about this event. "Since I've been basically hibernating since they canceled my comic book back in 1990, I don't need to feed like those other guys. Also, being a robot helps, too." He went on to say that the bears basically broke down into two groups, "the Foodies" and "the Drinkies".

The Foodies include Yogi & Boo-Boo, Winnie the Pooh, and Sugar Bear. "That Yogi is a true omnivore. He'll eat anything is a pic-a-nic basket. Winnie is a "show me the honey" kind of guy. And I think Sugar Bear's dietary habits are well documented."

The Drinkies include the Hamms Beer Bear & the Hillbilly Bears. "While the Hillbilly Bears are easily confused with the Country Bears, the HB's are animated while the CB's are animatronics. But they both have a shine for 'shine!" Boris said of the similar offerings from Disney & Hanna-Barbera. "And that Hamms Beer Bear, being a true Minnesotan, really loves his lutefisk, and any food on a stick."



When asked about another bear seen prowlin' and a growlin' and a sniffin' the air, Boris referred to him as "the Smokey". "He's just looking to bum a cigarette from someone. Talk about playing up your misfortune for cash. His forest burns down, and he gets a cushy, do nothing, government job. When was the last time you was him working?"



"But I don't think that any of this will work anyhow," Boris concluded. "I mean, they can get wider and all, but as 2-D cartoon characters, they can't really get fat."

According to Boris, the Care Bears were not allowed to participate in this year's Hibernation Fest activities, held at Jellystone Park. "My feelings toward cute comic animals is well documented. And after getting their punk butts kick by a herd of My Little Ponies last year, we found a better job for them. They are digging new hibernation caves. I guess you could call them Ursa Miners!"

There's No Place Like Home

While this blog has been called SCOPE-TECH there has honestly been a lot more SCOPE than TECH. That's not really going to change. But today, I am going to talk some tech that you may find handy.

Infact, I'm going to dub today, "Tech Tuesday". And today's topic, Remote access to your home PC.

Have you ever been at work, or at a friends house, and really needed to retrieve something off your home PC? Are you the family's I.T. department? Or do you need to check you blog without leaving a footprint behind? I'm sure you've heard of 'GoToMyPC' or 'PCAnywhere' but have you heard of 'LogMeIn'?

LogMeIn has a compelling feature over those, it's FREE! And secure. It will even send you an email when someone logs into your account.

The install on your PC is small, quick, and easy. On the side, you just use a browser to connect to the LogMeIn website, log in to your account, then log into your PC. Nothing to down load. Your computer opens up in the browser.

Why is it free? Well, you can't print files from your remote computer to a local printer, move files to/from local/remote (but you can email them to yourself), or stream music. Those are paid upgrades that they want to entice you to buy. Like drug dealers, really. But for the basics. I like what I've seen so far.

And you want to do something ACTUALLY useful with your iPhone, instead of that stupid beer pouring app, or THIS thing. LogMeIn has a $30 app at the app store. Yes, from your iPhone, you can remote into your home PC.

And if you are an Apple fan, here's the next product coming your way.

Apple Introduces Revolutionary New Laptop With No Keyboard

Did I Hear That Right?

Saturday, I was watching TV, and I saw a commercial for a personal amplification device. I flipped the channel, and saw it again. But wait. The first one looked liked an MP3 player. This one looked like one of those blutooth ear things that annoying people (not you) seem to wear even when they aren't on the phone. Wait a second…

The ads were the same, except it's almost like they photoshopped the old model out and put the new one in. But in video? No, did they just reshoot from the original the script, thereby not having to pay writers again, right? (You know everybody in advertising is a slimy whore. No, not you. Everybody else. Okay, not him/her either. Sheesh!) But devices have different names.

So then I start doing the investigation for this post, and I find a third. They are: Listen Up, Loud 'N Clear, and Silver Sonic.

All 3 have videos on their sites, let's compare and contrast here:

Based on the pin drop thing, I think Listen Up and Loud 'N Clear are from the same company or something.

Oh, and Bell + Howell, maker of the Silver Sonic – I do have "sonic" hearing. I also have photonic vision. Dumbasses.

* And a special, special shout to Cora for her dear letter last night.

Flying Monkeys - Part V - Lemonade

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." That's what we at SCOPE-TECH were thinking when we turned what lesser companies would have viewed as a problem into a golden opportunity.

As part of our Flying Monkey programs, as with any manufacturing process, there is a degree of waste byproduct and units that for one reason or another do not pass our stringent quality control standards. Those with superior and compatible genetic make-ups are kept as breeding stock. (We refer to them as our "Prime Mates".) Others we are going to start offering to you, the public. [And "Yes" we know that apes aren't monkeys. We ARE a scientific think tank after all. Our genetic engineering and hybrid breeding program has blurred the distinctions between of apes & monkeys biologically in much the same way the distinction is blurred in the modern American psyche.]

These monkeys have had a large amount of expensive surgeries and training that would just be wasted if they fed into the monkey grinder and pureed into cat food or sold into the lucrative monkey paw industry. So we needed to decide what to do with them. We decided to split them into categories for marketing purposes: helper monkeys, hapless monkeys, and harmmer monkeys.

Each monkey comes with our three part guarantee. First, if you are unhappy with your monkey within the first 90 days, SCOPE-TECH will provide you a complete refund. This is our MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE. Secondly, due to a GPS transmitter wired into the central nervous system, any lost or AWOL ape can be tracked and returned to its owner. This is our MONKEY BACK GUARANTEE. And finally, due to hormones used to speed maturity, the monkeys do age rapidly. When your monkey becomes too old to properly perform its duties, you can trade it in as a down payment on a new model. This is our SILVERBACK GUARANTEE.

The helper monkeys aren't like traditional assistance animals like guide dogs or even like Homer's helper monkey, Mojo. These are specially bred/ hybrid/ genetically engineered simians with the intelligence of an 8 year old child. They'll answer your door or pay your bills. They can even be trained to do simple cooking (they make a mean banana cream pie). And they are experts at polishing your floor, washing your windows, and waxing your cars. One might say that they are proficient at monkey shines.

The hapless monkeys are more like regular monkeys, but less so. Think of them as the "short bus" riders of the group. They are sweet and kind and gentle. And they are very compatible with humans (which may be due to their baboon hearts). What they are not is quick witted, agile, or dexterous. They will provide endless amusement as they bump into things, fall down a lot, or when the get easily confused. We sell them equipped with their own special yellow helmets. But please, while it may be amusing, with their already diminished capacities, keep them off of the monkey bars if they've been hitting the banana daiquiris down at the Monkey Bar.

Our final group is the harmmer monkeys. Think "Furious George." These monkeys won't do your bidding, only your EVIL bidding. While expert in guerilla warfare, these jaded monkeys are a bit headstrong and don't follow orders well. Due to the dangers involved, we cannot sell them to just any Kwyjibo that comes down the pike. We'd prefer to sell them to corporations who want to throw a monkey wrench into competitor's operations or third world dictators looking to rule some portion of the world that doesn't impact SCOPE-TECH 's vital interests.

Flying Monkeys: Part IV - Sea Monkeys

In our continuing efforts to enhance the efficiency and effectiveness of our simian strike forces, the directors of SCOPE-TECH's Hostile Acquisition Takeover Enterprises Division* has noticed a glaring oversight. While our forces are designed and trained to operate in small units in guerillas warfare as opposed to major combat as a standing (upright) army in both the airborne and terrestrial environments, we lacked a force suitable for EVERY ENVIRONMENT: Sea, Land, & Air. Thus, we created our own Sea, Land, & Air Primates, or the S.L.A.P. squad. But, since the members prefer to run around in their off hour in crowns and fur trimmed velvet capes, we prefer to call them the "Sea Monkeys."

Achieving R&D synergy with the Flying Monkey 2.0 program, the Sea Monkeys replace the FM 2.0 jetpack and helmet with scuba tanks and underwater propulsion units. The helmets also include active and passive sonar. Our first attempt at stealthy sonar absorbing suits failed when some lunkhead tried to use the waffled foam rubber found in recording studios. The apes bobbed helplessly on the surface. That technician… is no longer with us.

Our second generation model includes anti-noise generators that sample the ping of a radar, and the noise generated by the propulsion units, and emits a sound wave of the same frequency and amplitude, but out of phase with the original, thus canceling it out. (Like these sweet ones from Bose.) It can also generate a dozen simulated radar returns, thus making a small force seem overpoweringly larger.

And despite what you may have learned from watching that bad Mark Wahlberg "Planet Of The Apes" (a.k.a. "Marky Mark and the Monkey Bunch") movie, many species of primate do not fear the water. Others are a bit more like teenage girls, they will hang out by the water, but don't want to get wet. We solved this problem by giving our unit full body high and tight buzz cuts. The hair didn't really hamper their swimming too much, but it did have two drawbacks: We kept burning out hairdryers trying to dry them out. And have you ever smelled wet monkey?!?

I'd tell you to watch out for our Sea Monkeys on covert missions in your area, but if you do see them, then it's already too late for you.


*The "Hostile Acquisition Takeover Enterprises Division" (H.A.T.E.D.) was formerly known as the "Mergers & Acquisitions Department." The name change was effected to more properly reflect the prevailing mood & perceptions of this small band of Hessians.

Random crap from a random day

Random crap from a random day. Tired, slightly drunk (I wrote this last night, I didn't wake up drunk on a Friday. Not that there's anything WRONG with that!), in a bit of a mood, and need to put something out there so parts IV and V of the flying monkey saga land on the weekend, when readership is down anyway.


Random 1: I've never been the best man in a wedding. There are reasons. There are reasons you, in the name of all that is holy, do NOT put a microphone in my hand in front of a crowd. This may take a while to buffer, but watch it all the way through. Just click: [NOT SAFE FOR WORK] Something along these lines would happen.


Random 2: Today at work, at my team meeting, me, my manager, and the other guy on the team. (One night last week I had two dreams about him: Dream 1) He had cancer. Dream 2) He kept saying stupid stuff in a meeting, so I stood up, and yelled at him and made him cry. Anybody out there do that dream analysis stuff?) Anyway the first announcement the manager makes is that they've extended an offer to someone to be the third person on the team, she's accepted, and will be starting mid Feb. You could feel the waves of FEAR wash through him, and I almost died. I interviewed her. If anything, she'll be gunning for my job eventually [Technically, the 3 spots on the team are: Architect, Engineer, and Administrator. Currently, I'm the Engineer, and the Architect spot is open. But, the job posting is for the Engineer spot, so the way it better work is that I move up, and she does take my current job.]. So, I've got to step up my game, good. I interviewed her, and she was the best candidate out of about 10. We've been trying to fill the spot since September, and there's plenty of work to keep two skilled people busy for years, so I'm not worried. Plus, she's high energy, and is coming out of consulting, so I think she just may make him cry for real. :-)


Random 3: Since I used it in my Facebook tag line, I have not been able to get THIS song out of my head. I've had worse.

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat


Random 4: Yes, I am making a conscious effort to burn through some old archive stuff that I've done over the years. It's not that it takes less time to reformat and publish than to write new stuff, but recently, I've just feel this WEIGHT of this stuff. I thought I would be doing more of this type of creative writing on my blog than I have been, and my blog is taking a slightly different direction than I'd planned. That's not a bad thing, but before I feel I can really embrace it, I need to clean out some of this stuff. But I think it's good stuff.

Flying Monkeys: Part III - Model 2.0

St. Pierre & Miquelon - On the heels of our annexation of these two former French island outposts in the Western hemisphere, SCOPE-TECH is pleased to announce our newest product upgrade, the Flying Monkey Version 2.0.

Attempting to overcome the problems with the original product, such as the wingspan necessary to provide flight proved structurally weak and the fact that the V-1's were prone to go AWOL, SCOPE-TECH's scientist went back to the drawing board. Realizing the inherent problems of a pure biological solution to the problem, our researchers settled on a psychological / cybernetic / mechanical solution.
First off, using certain "conditioning" routines, we implanted a humming bird's flight instincts into the simians' brains. Next, we had to design the flying apparatus. Having learned our lesson the first time, we tossed out Da Vinci's flying wings. And while the helicopter and autogyro (like "Little Nelly" in James Bond's You Only Live Twice) concepts were promising, the whirling blades were not appropriate (think Cusinart). Luckily, TNN had been showing a number of Bond movies over Christmas, and the jetpack idea from Thunderball proved to be the winner.

Due to the unholy smell produced by burning monkey / burning monkey hair, the engine pods are mounted on telescoping boom arms from the main pack. This also helps shield the fuel supply and the electronic systems from the heat generated by the Rolls Royce engines. Contracting with the premier manufacturer of jet turbine engines also allows us to mount the famous hood ornament on their helmets, which is just cool. The engines thrust vectoring nozzles are controlled via a cybernetic interface and a "head's up" display in the helmet. While flight time / distance vary based on factors including height, distance, speed, wind, and weight, in "directed hovering" mode, distances of 15 miles and flight times of 30 minutes are not uncommon. This can be extended with a variety of schemes:

The first is an optional lifting wing attachment that greatly extends the horizontal flight distances, but they are cumbersome and make directional hovering more difficult.

The second method is an in-flight refueling capability from our fleet of refueling airships. A special gas caps prevents those damn dirty apes working at CITGO from helping a wayward soldier escape.

Our third method is to reduce the weight of the biological just before liftoff. Like birds, they "flush their systems" just before takeoff to reduce weight. As with racehorses, we used Pavlovian training, but we flash a special picture in their helmet's head's up display. This also reduces the strafing that was far too common with the Mach I's.

We call this scheme, "Monkey see. Monkey doo."

6° of Scope-aration

We've all heard the theory. We've all played the Kevin Bacon game. Maybe we've even been to the Oracle of Bacon to play the game. Now it's time for my little twist. This is not some "me too" to the follower's drive that Sass and Dr. Zibbs did on Monday. I've been bouncing this idea around for a while now. And I think I'm ready to play.

6° of Scope-aration.

Here's how we'll play. Occasionally (not even going to pretend to have "Scope-aration Saturday") I will use some method to link out through the blog world to see what I find. I will always start with one of my followers, and then go out from there. I may use a random number generator, like I did today, or I may use some other method. But despite how I get out there, I'll make it the 6 steps*, and hopefully, find some gems along the way****.

This could be fun.
This could suck rocks.

But you never know until you try.

So, starting with me, my blog is followed by:
STEP 1: Bella@That damn expat her blog That damn expat is followed by:
STEP 2: Tova Darling her blog Secret Life of Tova Darling is followed by:
STEP 3: Mrs4444 her blog Half-Past Kissin' Time is followed by:
STEP 4: Tenakim her blog My Therapy is followed by:
STEP 5: MiMi her blog Women And Their World-one day at a time is followed by:
STEP 6: Shana and her blog, Shana's Place

Shana is an RN who lives in Canada.

Some of her recent posts include:
The Year was 2000 (A touching story about her mom)
Marissa loves taking pictures. Of herself. (What happens with a teen and a digital camera. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter.)
Winter Sucks (A cartoon for those of us actually having a winter this year.)
More Gross Stuff (for Momma) (What happens when your plumbing backs up.)
Cold Enough to freeze the Balls off a Brass Monkey... (Monkey shines. Like I could resist something about monkeys.)
A Song (Written by her daughter while in the bathroom. Is everybody in the blog world talking about people talking on the phone in the can?)
Watch Your Head (The leg bone's connected to the … NOTHING!)
YUM-MEEE (An interesting tail of life after birth.)
Today's Program Was Brought to You By the Letter "S" (Looks like a fun meme.)
It's All Fun and Games Until ......... (A nursing story about eyeballs)

So, I encourage you to run on over to Shana's place. And tell her, "Scope sent me."

* "6 steps" what are you talking about? I can see her smiling face over in your followers. True. I did the research on Sunday, and then wrote to Shana to see if she's like to participate. I'm not going to ambush a stranger. After doing the research, I liked what I saw and decided to follow her. I guess she decided to do the same.

** What is with you people. Yes, TECHNICALLY we were only 2 steps away to begin with, through Vodka Mom, but it took me 6 steps to get there, because I'm a guy and I got lost, okay, but we got there eventually, right?

*** Yes, I know that there is no ** footnote denotation above. What of it?

**** And there are some jems along the way, I encourage ya'll to follow my path to Shana, there's good stuff along the way, too.

HOPE-TECH

Dear United States of America;

I love you.

Today is a good day for us all to feel proud of our federal constitutional republic's tradition of peaceful and orderly transfers of power. We have voted with our hearts full of hope and pockets full of change that we can believe in.

Oh, U.S. of A., how I love your ability to hope that now Washington, D.C. will not be politics as usual, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Given how the Democratic leadership of Barry, Harry, and Nancy puffed their chests and in indignant speeches vowed that in no uncertain terms, that they would NOT accept anyone appointed to the Senate by Rod Blagojevich or by his taint. And they stuck to their principles, I had hope. For about a week. Then Rod outmaneuvered them all and sent Rolland Burris with a steaming plate of crow for them to eat. And that's when Barry proved to be a uniter. He united Nancy and Harry at the table where they both ate a whole big heaping helping. But they seemed to enjoy it, so I'm sure they'll get over it and not hold a grudge. (hee hee)

I love how in the end the will of the people was served. Not the people who happened to be citizens of Illinois mind you, but sacrifices were required. The people wanted their bread and circuses (and their Bruce Springsteen concert), and did not want to have their feel good buzz killed. To quote that other guy, "Mission Accomplished!"

So today, we stop being a divided country, and become one big Obama-Nation.

Remember, "ERIC" is the Y of "Am-ERIC-a".

Love;

Eric "Scope" Collins

PS - Mad super props to my good blog buddy Cora of Love Letters by Cora for letting me borrow her style for this post. And never say that I'm not a giver. For being a her her sweet and sexy self, I hereby present Cora with the S.T.A.R. Award:

Birds Is For The Birds

With birds making the news recently, SCOPE-TECH is issuing your technical survival guide:

Birds Is For The Birds

Know Your Enemy Guidebook

A practical guide to birds for the aves-phobic
&
Repudiation of "Oh, it's just a Bird" mentality

Broad Tailed Hummingbird [wiki]

Length: 3.5 in
Weight: 1/8 oz
Fear Factor: 1
Deadly Skill: Ability to hover
Your Defense: Tennis Racket



Canvasback Duck [wiki]

Length: 53 cm (about 21 in)
Weight:1.7 kg (3.75 lb.)
Fear Factor: 3
Deadly Skill: That glowing red eye!
Your Defense: A swift kick


Pigeon [wiki]

Length: 13 in
Weight: 8 oz
Fear Factor: 6
Deadly Skill: Hypnotic neck bobbing and dive-bombing of pedestrians.

Your Defense: Duck & cover when they fly too close.

Canadian Goose [wiki]

Length: 114 cm (45 in)
Weight: 11 kg (24 lb.)
Fear Factor: 7
Deadly Skill: They travel in flocks, hiss at you, and are by nature, EVIL!
Your Defense: A hockey stick or a fire hose.


Trumpeter Swan [wiki]

Length: 1.5 m (5 ft)
Weight: 13.5 kg (30 lb.)
Fear Factor: 8
Deadly Skill: Size does matter.
Your Defense: Call it an "ugly duckling." You will send it into an emotional breakdown as it relives a childhood trauma. Then run, run like the wind, Forrest.


Cassowary [wiki]

Length: 6 ft
Weight: 150 lb.
Fear Factor: 10+
Deadly Skills: Can run 30mph. And "can leap high to make raking blows with their long dagger-like claws."
Your Defense: A gun. A REALLY big gun.


Tweety Bird [wiki]

Length: 5 in
Weight: ??
Fear Factor: 2 - 10
Deadly Skills: Disarmingly cute in natural state. Can morph into terrifyingly huge "Mr. Hyde" bird.
Your Defense: Puddy Tat


Big Bird [wiki]

Length: 8' 2"
Weight: ??? lb.
Fear Factor: 0
Deadly Skills: Cannot pronounce the name "Hooper."
Your Defense: Elmo. Even Big Bird hates Elmo.


Honorable Mentions

Larry Bird [wiki]

Length: 6' 9"
Weight: 220 lb.
Fear Factor: 10
Deadly Skills: All his skills were deadly.
Your Defense: You can't stop him. You can only hope to contain him.

Mark "The Bird" Fidrych [wiki]

Length: 6' 3"
Weight: 175
Fear Factor: 5 (100+ if you're Kerry Wood)
Deadly Skills: He talked to the BALL for heaven's sake!!!
Your Defense: Protect the outside corner with 2 strikes.

Admiral Richard E. Byrd [wiki]

Length: Unknown
Weight: Unknown
Fear Factor: 1
Deadly Skills: Flew over South Pole. Lord of the Penguins.
Your Defense: Call him by his middle name, "Evelyn".


And as a special bonus: Naturally Roasted Squab

NSFW - Today's safety lesson....

Normally, I do not pass along e-mail spam, but this is deathly important, and I think it is of dire importance for all to hear this valuable saftely lesson:

N-E-V-E-R urinate on a 220 watt 3 phase electric fence!

WARNING!

Please swallow all liquids before clicking the link.

Only do so if you have a strong constitution.

You've been warned.

>>> LINK <<<

ZOINKS!

Flying Monkeys: Part II - War On Terror

As of 2009-01-01, SCOPE-TECH has announced that it has joined the Americans in their "War on Terror." Since SCOPE-TECH is a corporate think tank, and not a country, some steps were required first. Primarily, it required us to become a country.

And that required territory.

As a small corporation, we needed to think small. First we thought of buying out S.M.O.M. (The Sovereign Military Order of Malta) But, the full name confused and confounded us. Despite the name: "Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta", it is not located in Jerusalem, Rhodes, or Malta. It is actually located in Rome. Since we don't have anything against the Italians, we ruled that out.

After a quick Wiki, all the bits fell in place. It turns out that the French had a little bit of property that needed "liberated": St. Pierre & Miquelon. These two little islands, located off the coast of Newfoundland, are the home of about 7,000 French fishermen. Since we recently canceled our flying monkey project, we hired the Anaheim Angels' Rally Monkey away from Disney Corp, and sent him. After all, he's a hyperactive monkey, and they're 7,000 French fisherman, with nary an organ grinder in sight. Not really a fair fight. He strode at the frightened French, wielding a strange and mysterious object. Terrified by that which they did not understand, they huddled together, quivering like brie left too long in the sun. The Rally Monkey lifted his weapon on high (a bar of Zest, for they smelled like brie left in the sun too long also), and went into a lather.

One could say he "mopped them up." Afterwards, using his powers of mime control, he convinced them that they were all prisoners trapped inside invisible boxes. One tried escaping by pulling himself out with an invisible rope, but an irresistible wind forced him back.

Now that we had our country, we had to deal with the issue of flags. We had to replace the old St. Pierre & Miquelon flag (see above), pretty as it was with ship and the lions and all, and rechristen it, as the 'Flying Monkey Ranch'.

Oh yeah, the "Flying Monkeys - Mach II". Stay tuned.

Nice Dreams

What's up in the blogger dream world?

You think Dr. Zibbs is the only one to have freaky dreams?

I had my first blogger dream on Tuesday. Or maybe not. In the dream, I was being counseled not to fear the new administration. That the whole "Roland Burris Affair" isn't a sign of politics as usual.

Who was trying to convince me?

Gwen? Nope.
the iNDefatigable mjenks? – No Deal!
Ms. Florida Trasplant? – Your Getting Warmer!
Ms. Florida Trasplant's Dog; Therapy Dog? – YES!

That's right, a dog I've never met was trying to have a political discussion with me in my dreams.

Ms. Florida Transplant wasn't there.

It was just her dog.

I need help.

And I also need your questions for the big 100 Things About Me post. See the countdown in the corner? Send your questions to my gmail account.

Flying Monkeys: Part I

It is with deep regret that SCOPE-TECH announces the suspension of current phase of our flying monkey project. We do not consider this a failure, but rather a chance to take the valuable lessons learned with this project and reapply them to future projects.

Fear not. We are not getting out of the monkey business.

The lessons we learned from this first false step include:

1) Gene modifications to provide wings to the test subjects worked, but did not prove viable.

2) They only seemed to answer to the name 'Cornelius'.

3) Scarecrows sent them into violent destructive fits of rage. So did music by the band Toto. But then, who doesn't go into a bit of rage when they hear that 'Africa' song?

4) While it was okay to feed him after midnight, special care was needed to avoid getting them wet. (Have you ever smelled a wet monkey?!?)

5) They wouldn't do our bidding. They would only do our EVIL bidding.

6) They would attempt to mate with flying squirrels. Results of inter-species breeding unknown.

7) They should not be allowed to drive after even one banana daiquiri. They just can't hold their liquor.

8) Due to the spliced pigeon DNA & natural simian tendencies, there is a heightened propensity for "aero-guano". This, though, led to the spinoff product, "Welshguard". (Lesser known than its Scottish rival, but just as effective. And not to be confused with "Welsh-Guard", a service we provide where we send two large Welsh guards to someone's home to keep them from reneging on a promise.)

We will keep you posted on further developments.

Oscar the Couch

Yesterday, the great Sass told of injuring herself moving a sleeper sofa. That triggered a latent memory that I had tried to burry of a sleeper sofa that was part of my life for a while.

While we were roommates, T-Bone had a full sized sleeper sofa his dad gave him with the explicit instructions that it NEVER return to his house. It was full size, circa 1962. It was made out of angle iron, and had the original mattress that was probably horse hair. We joked that when they made it, two guys were able to lift it, so it failed the test, and they had to add a couple of cinder blocks to it.
Since it was made BEFORE seatbelts were required in cars (yes kiddies, it's true, they were not always required to be INSTALLED in cars, let alone USED), there was no latch to keep the thing from popping it open when you moved it. The beast was coiled, and always bit someone when we moved it. From a third floor apartment down and up to another third floor down and up to a second floor apartment, and finally, off to Minnesota with T-Bone and Mrs. Ivy.

And I think, maybe in all that time, 2 people slept on it.

And now, in his own words, T-Bone* will tell the story of…

Oscar the Couch

When starting out the phase of life known as adulthood, we come out of college with the list of our tangible possessions being comprised mainly of clothes, some consumer electronics and maybe a used car. Everything else that you’d need to outfit your apartment you must buy or beg your family for hand-me-downs. This is a story about one such hand-me-down... a sleeper-sofa affectionately nick-named “Oscar the Couch”.

To say that this was an ugly couch would be an understatement. The green tweed, scratchy monstrosity came with the caveat that once it left my parents’ basement, it was never to come back. This couch was heavy, nay it was leaden. The infrastructure of this sofa represented the best work of the Ironworkers Federated Union (the old I FU). Its frame was indestructible and it had a bar under the mattress that was perfectly positioned to ruin your back and deny you sleep, no matter how tall or short you were (made the term “sleeper-sofa” ironic!). It was the kind of couch that tested the strength of one's relationship with his friends (sample quote from a close friend, “If you ever ask me to help move that thing to a 3rd floor apartment again I’ll kill you and bury the remains in that couch!”).

After 3 moves between apartments with my roommate and having tested the patience of all my able-bodied friends, I’d finally gotten married and been promoted to a new job which would require a transfer from Chicago to Minnesota. Finally, a move that wasn’t going to involve my best friends swearing at me! In came the professional movers. Following is a sample conversation with the movers:

Me: Careful, it’s heavy.
Professional Mover: Relax, sir. We’re professional movers.
Me: Ok – but I’m telling you, I’ve moved it several times and my friends are only now beginning to speak to me again.
PM: Relax, sir. We’re professional movers.
Me: Ok – but remember to tie down the spring-loaded sleeper mechanism or, as soon as you tilt it, it’s gonna fire 600 lbs at 50 MPH to the left and you’ll never use your shoulders again…
PM: Relax, sir. We’re professional movers.
Me (2 hours later): Are you done?
PM: If you ever ask us to move that thing again we’ll kill you and bury the remains in that couch!

Flash forward several years and my wife and I were finally replacing all the country-rustic / bachelor-slob furnishings that we each brought into the marriage with new stuff that we bought together. The final blight on our decor was Oscar the Couch. A new couch had been purchased and delivery was imminent. We moved the couch (with the use of a pallet jack) out to the end of our driveway on a busy county road 3 days in advance of trash collection day. Typically, anything left at the street is fair game for bargain hunters and folks with a salvage jones.

Within an hour, I looked out the front window and noticed that someone had taken the ancient, awful, brown velour slip cover from the couch. Now, there it was in all its 50-year old icky green never-fashionable-even-when-it-was-in-fashion splendor! On day 2, someone took its cushions. That’s all – just the cushions. We suspect they tried to take the couch because it was moved, but not very far. They likely grunted, put it back down and took the cushions as a consolation prize. Day 3 came and we had made a pact to be ready when the trash truck came so that we could help load it in the truck and be done.

We did not want to be stuck with the couch or have to move it to the dump ourselves if the trash collector refused to take it.

The day wore on and the trash man was severely late. I worked from home and had important documents that had to get to the post office (less than 1 mile away) before the cutoff time and couldn’t wait any longer. I told Mrs. Ivy that I would be back in 5 minutes or less and I raced out to my truck and sped off down the road. As soon as I was out of sight… you guessed it – the trash collector arrived. Mrs. Ivy went into panic mode and rocketed out of the house in only shorts, tennis shoes and a t-shirt (it was a balmy -5°F Minnesota winter day). The trash man said he’d have to leave the couch because he was working the route alone that day and it looked too heavy for him to lift with or without her. Mrs. Ivy responded, “That’s what you think!” then summoned the kind of freakish adrenaline-fueled strength usually reserved for a mother whose infant child is trapped beneath a car and she grabbed her end of the couch and forcefully dispatched it into the truck! Wide-eyed with awe, and likely a bit of fear, the driver pulled away to continue his route. To this day, Mrs. Ivy swears that she heard the truck groan, “If you ever ask me to move that thing again I’ll kill you and bury the remains in that couch!”

I arrived home less than a minute later and was shocked to find the driveway empty and my wife (shivering with the after-effects of fight-or-flight just kicking in) walking up the sidewalk with a satisfied smile on her face.

We sure miss that couch.

* [Scope] - Yes, T-Bone is a natural story teller, and much funnier than I am. If he starts his own blog, I'm screwed.

Honest Scrap

About a week ago Srg tagged me for the Honest Scrap Award. As with most prizes, there are a few rules.

A) List 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep!

B) Pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap.

While normally a compulsive rule follower, with memes, not so much. Since I'm not going to pass this on (I think everyone I know has already done it), I won't officially accept the prize. But that doesn't mean I won't do the work. And, as a special bonus, I did find a place to buy the sign if you want. And I figured out that "Honest Scrap" was a brand of loose chewing tobacco, like Red Man. Don't say I don't give back.

So a little Honest Scrap about your buddy Scope.

01 - I hate the phone. Necessary evil, and it has its uses, but I'm not good on it, and I hate to be put on the spot, especially at work. Email me your problem, let me figure it out and get back to you.

02 - I am embarrassed for you. I will leave the room if someone on TV is doing something stupid and embarrassing. Hence I watch little "Reality" TV.

03 - I love History Channel's "Modern Marvels". I think I've seen the one on concrete about 15 times.

04 - I make about enough money. Not bragging. It's not like I'm Richie Rich or anything. I have no wife. I have no kids. I usually enjoy my job and think that I'm fairly compensated. (It's a 7 hour day for God's sake!) I make enough to cover the bills, and not really need to worry about it. The rules said to "dig deep". Would you trade your spouse and kids to be comfortable? Yeah, didn't think so. Now who's jealous of who?

05 - Rhymes, alliteration, and puns: Love 'em.

06 - I share a birthday with Diane Sawyer. I would like us to celebrate it in our birthday suits doing the "sweaty samba."

07 - My favorite time of day to see on a clock is 12:34. If I notice it is 12:33 I will stare at the clock until it changes.

08 - I fart in elevators.

09 - I believe in the soul... the cock...the pussy... the small of a woman's back... the hanging curve ball... high fiber... good scotch... that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent overrated crap... I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a Constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.

10 - I like to quote movies and song lyrics in casual conversation where ever possible.

So, are you looking for a little more honesty out of your new buddy, Scope? If so you are in luck. My 100th post is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I'm going to try to do what Sass tried, 100 honest things about me. I'm already well on my way to filling it in (and giving up 10 here hurt, but like I said, I give like that), but I do want to field some questions from the peanut gallery. I can't promise to use all that I get, (some more free honesty there for you) but I would like to tell you some of the things you may be wondering about. Just send me your questions via the gmail account listed in the upper right corner.

How I Met Your MFF'r‏

Yes, Ms Florida Transplant, a previous time I delved into MFF with Ring of Lies left a lot of open questions. Few will be addressed here. This is my blog. It tells my story. If she wants to tell hers, she can start her own blog. (She's not going to.). But where our stories intersect, it sometimes gets interesting, and therefore a great source of material.

It was early January, 1992. T-Bone had just moved out to Akron, Ohio for a new job. It would have cost his company more to break the lease then to just pay his share of the rent until summer, so I had a nice 2BR/2BA in the NW Chicago suburbs to myself. Sweet! It was Sunday afternoon, and we'd just gotten 4 to 6 inches of powder. It looked beautiful, but to save myself some time in the morning, I decided to clean my car off before it got dark. "The Butterfly Effect" in action. Little did I realize as I bundled up in my puffy down jacket, gloves and bright orange "toboggan" (a term I'd never heard before) hat and grabbed a broom (powdery snow) that my life was about to change forever.

Too be continued....

Just fuckin' with ya!

I get to the parking lot and see her, the future MFF. She's wearing the cutest black, pink teal and white jogging suit, and headband (but totally under dressed to be out there freezing to death). She was trying to clean the windshield of her car with one of those little ice scrapers that is for frost. She'd take a swipe, and her hand would disappear in the snow. Whatever didn't go up her sleeve reformed right behind her where she'd just been. Every once-in-a-while, I'd shout a friendly, "Need help?" or "Are you SURE I can't help?" Each time to be rebuffed.

Well, my car was done, and she was about 5% of where she needed to be. She'd said she wasn't feeling well, and had asked for directions to the hospital. (I was unsure where it was, but offered to drive. Shot down again.). Screw it. She was being a b*tch, and didn't want my help. So I did exactly what I was raised to do.

I smiled, and used the broom and a real ice scraper and cleaned her car off in about 3 minutes. She was sure that: 1) I was going to murder her. 2) I was an asshole because I made a comment on her Alabama plates. But somehow, I'd managed to get her name and we figured out that I lived about 3 apartments down the hall from her. She left for the hospital, and I was on a cloud.

I left a note on her door, inviting her down for dinner later. Reports have it (if you think this story hasn't ever been discussed, you've never met a woman) that she almost pitched the note, but decided to come down instead.



She told about being a flight attendant. :-)

She told me about being a gymnast in high school. :-)

She told me about her boyfriend back home. :-(

But that started a true friendship, and we were destined to share our first kiss...



About 8 years later.

But that's a story for another day.