Why? Oh Why? Oh Ming!

Since I started this blog 7 1/2 months ago, every single one of posts has had something in common.  Not a single one of them has been read in the state of Wyoming.

Not one.

I think I know why this is.  Basically, no one lives there.  It is 50th in population.  North Dakota has more people!  I grew up down state in Illinois, and one of the neighboring towns was 'Wyoming'.  (I even took my driver's test there.)  The STATE of Wyoming has 375 times the population of a dying, backwater TOWN.  Granted, I haven't gotten a hit from there, either, but still.

So, to entice some hits from the hicks:

• Wyoming: An armpit, and a Jackson Hole
• Wyo Ming: Yao Ming's brudder.
• Wyoming? Wy-not-oming?
• Cheyenne puts out more than Helena.
• Wyoming rocks.
• Wyoming sucks.
• Wyoming: A state of denial.
• Wyoming: Like Colorado, but without Denver.  Or the Coors.  Or the award winning bloggers (1, 2, etc.).  Or indoor plumbing.

And if this does the trick, I am so going after Luxembourg next.  Both people that live there haven't visited, either.

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The other day, I did a little blog-keeping (and meant the 'Wyoming' rant to be part of that, but forgot it.)  Well, since then, I would like to welcome 3 new followers:

Alan	Blogs: Robot Nine, Alan Around the World, Photobesity.  Robot Nine & Photobesity are where you'll hind stunning photography, or an amusing gallery of pix.  Alan Around the World is where you will find Alan, as he prepares to head out on a trip around the world.  On a bike.
Chadwick	Blogs: None.  He's a Cabbage Patch doll for crying out loud.  I send him a Christmas card every year.  We (Cora & I) have plans to meet the little tater's mom out for pizza on Friday.
mylittlebecky	Blogs:  I'll Go Eat Worms – She knows that aliens love her.  They told her.  By writing it on a strangers car.  Sorry Becky, that was just me having a laugh with you.  When aliens want to say they love you, they don't use a Beretta.  The use a PROBE!

I do appreciate my followers and regular readers.  In the time that I have been blogging, I have come to consider many of you as 'friends', a few of you as 'close friends', and one of you as my 'girlfriend'.

So yeah, thanks.

And I Am Out Of Here!

Catch you all on Monday!

Too beautiful to be inside!

The Making of An Award (or Three)

Nikki, over at This Genius is Insane has been giving out awards like  a Super Ninja Monkey recently, and I promised her something special.  Oh, I could just give her and award for giving out awards, but I thought I'd first make her (and all y'all) suffer a little and walk you through some of the creative process that I go into to award design.

The First award I ever gave Nikki was the O.B.A.M.A. (One Bad Ass Mother Award).  This is very similar to Candy's 'Bad Ass Mother Of The Year', but it was brown, as you can see, which matched Nikki's old blog template.  But she changed her template, so I dropped a purple filter on it and Bob's your uncle.  But, she lost the link and has been stuck with the brown one until now.  (Note: Awards have been resized to fit this page.  Please follow links for better copies.)

But then, I saw Nikki dropping awards on people like it was the Grammy's or something (seriously, a different Grammy for 'Album of the Year' and 'Record of the Year'?), so I knew I needed to re-award her for her generosity.  I was thinking 'awards ceremony' and a 'woman at microphone' and found this picture. It was OK, but I knew there was something better out there if I just looked hard enough.

Turns out I was wrong.  It wasn't 'out there' but 'in here' as in my PowerPoint's clipart library.  It's done in the same style as Sass's birthday card, but you can see the problem.  The red shirt would totally clash with Nikki's color scheme.  I was able to correct for that, but then it came to the font.  I wanted something that said 'celebration'.  That said 'winner'. I went with a 'Stars and Stripes' font, a little outlining and edging on the layers to set it off and POW.  Plus, I call Nikki my 'mistress'.  Don't you wish you had a hot 22 year old Ninja Monkey Mistress, too?

So, congratulations, on being named 'Mistress of Ceremonies'.  But I'm not done.  See, Google-ing 'Mistress of Ceremonies' led to 'Dominatrix' quicker than you can imagine.  (Well, may not YOU, we all know YOU'RE Google-ing habits).  I hit a couple of bits of art that I thought might work:

 

Chillie Willie got dumped pretty quick.  The 'Mistress' was a little too 'Low Res' for my needs, but 'Pinki' there had merit.  The halo & handcuffs.  Nice.  But since this was supposed to be Nikki, I knew I needed to work on the hair.  I tried to take it brown, but the best I could do was this, and the green wasn't working for me.  I really liked the black and white of the 'Mistress' and I suppose I could have tried to black and white 'Pinki' but there was one more picture to try.  Originally I wasn't sure about it, either.  Super sexy, for sure, but how was I going to incorporate that into an award.  What type of font would go with that?  Obviously something that kind of looked she's carved it out with the whip would be alright.  I settled on Chiller after discarding quiet a few.  Then It was time to take the text and  bend it like Beckham.  But I still needed a border.  I've over done the re-colored 'fire' outer glow on previous awards, so I thought I would echo the award she game me.  Imitation is the highest form of flattery, and I ended up with this: So, Nikki, two, two, two awards for you.  One kind of nice and sweet, and the other 110% bad ass.  I think they both fit you perfectly.

** Ooops, was wondering why I hadn't gotten any comments yet.  Turns out you need to hit the "Publish" button.  :-)  Gonna be one of those days.

A Little Blog-keeping Is In Order

I have been neglecting a little blog-keeping for far too long.  I let it go, and *POOF* suddenly there's a lot of business that need attended too.

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First off, I would thank the followers who have decided to give me the vote of confidence and clicking the "follow" button.  So with that, I'd like to welcome:

Grant Miller	Call Me Cate	Peggy
SkylersDad	phatmama	Angela
YOU?	Mary@Holy Mackerel	YOU?

Thank you all.  I do appreciate it, even if I don't stop by as often as I'd like to.

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Secondly, I would like to thank Nikki form This Genius Is Insane.  She gave me this award YESTERDAY.  She's scoping me out.  And I like it!Nikki, thank you so, so much.  As you can see, I've already added it to my sidebar.  I am working on a little idear that's rolling around inside my head.  It hasn't exactly cooked long enough, and I don't want this to go off half baked, so you'll have to wait just a bit longer.

I'm evil like that.

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A Very Harry Situation

When Cora was here for a visit a few weeks back, she left me a little present. It started as a slight itch, but has become such a burning that I've had a hard time sleeping the last few nights.

J.J. get your mind out of the gutter, right this instance. She loaned me her unabridged Harry Potter books on CD.

Prior to this, I'd had as vague of a notion about the books as it is possible to have as a guy my age who is not routinely around kids can have. I knew what it was, I knew the general story theme, knew that the author went from dirt poor to being richer than the Queen of England, and had seen probably 15 minutes total of the first movie somewhere, sometime. I'd had a number of work friends read them and love them, I just read much. Never have. I'm a slow reader with a short attention span. I got a 512 page book from my brother for Christmas. It's part of the Dune series. I have read all the Dune books so far (I think that's 15 or so.). And I'm on page 172. Since Christmas.

But this audio book format has some serious merit for me. First and foremost, it takes out the speed thing. Plus, it's a different concentration level. I wouldn't want to have READ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone driving to/from St. Louis. And it is easier to deal with during the commute or while doing routine tasks at work.

But, I will admit that my OCD did kick in. I started listening to them on the way down to Gwen's birthday party on May 30. I finished them up on June 15. 17 days. Including about 40 hours in the last 72. So, if you've noticed a little drop off in my blogging, Facebooking, sleeping, etc. I hope this explains where I have been and what I have been doing. But I feel like the Imperius Curse has lifted, and I'm walking out into the sunshine now, blinking, wondering where the time has gone.

But I really did enjoy the books. Highly engrossing. And having seen all the props at the Museum of Science and Industry a month ago, it was really easy to visualize what they were talking about.

Certainly, I have questions, but when dating someone with an encyclopedia knowledge of the subject, they are easily answered, if the answers are out there.

The answers are out there? Maybe I should Netflix the X-Files next.

We're A Bunch Of Filthy Lyres

There was an article in the Tribune the other day about a blogger who had been less than honest on her blog.  You can read the full story HERE, but the gist is that a blogger was not accurate.  She was telling the tale of a troubled pregnancy that was not.  Though it was somewhat based on a pregnancy she had just a few years ago.

I'm not going to revile her and what she did.  I am going to wonder, a little jealously, how a blogger that only started in March got 50 comments on her first post, and another post got nearly 1,000,000 hits recently.

I'm not going to condemn her.  Who hasn't "embellished" their blogging personalities a little?

- I only occasionally talk "Tech"

- I doubt Dr. Zibbs is really a doctor.  And I seriously doubt that he's a blue yak. 

- There are certain things Gwen likes that don't cause cancer.  I meant "monkeys" you dirty minded people.

- Candy doesn't post daily.

- Cora rarely writes love letters anymore.

I Want My ummmm-TV

Hey, does anybody know what's going on?  None of my TV's are working now.

Everything was fine when I went to work, but when I got home, nothing but static.  I fiddled with the rabbit ears, but nada.

** Hey, if you know anyone who was caught unaware by the television analog to digital switch today, please let me know.  I hope this is like the "Millennium Bug" and is really a ton of hype with few actual issues. **

Car Wars Episode 5 – The Malibu Strikes Back

Back during my freshman year in college, I drove a POS late 70's 4 door Chevy Malibu.  Green.  350 engine.  Automatic. Got about 15 miles a gallon, but shuddered at 60 mph, and had no power or acceleration.  Fabulous combination.  The interior had a bench seat in the front, and an AM only radio that would pick up static from the firing of the sparkplugs, so it was mostly useless.  It is also the last car I drove with a floor mounted dimmer switch.

But, it had 4 wheels, my parents got it from one of the relatives that died (some kind of "aunt", but the exact relationship escapes me, other than she was on my mom's side, somewhere) so it was free, and beat the heck out of walking.

And it was haunted.

Yeah?  Then riddle me this, Batman, if you locked them, the back doors, once unlocked, would refuse to open form the inside or the outside when the car was stopped.  If the car was moving down the road?  Not a problem.  They would open with ease.

You could also pull the keys out of the ignition WHILE THE CAR WAS RUNNING.  You could also turn the key one click, then pull it out, and then turn the ignition switch and start the car.  Not important to the story, but another fact to explain that this car was weird.

Anyway, the town I went to college in had a population of about 25,000 people, and had two small colleges located about a mile or a mile and a half from each other.  We rarely mingled, as far as I remember.  The only time I went to a party over there, I was the driver.  I don't remember who the other two guys in the car were.  One may have been Forehead.  But the gal with I will call "Mayburple."  She was with me at the Trump Hotel, and Gwen & Cora will be meeting at her house in about 2 weeks.

And Mayburple was lit before we even got in the car.  I warned them when they piled into the back seat NOT to lock the doors, because they wouldn't open when we go there.  In her drunken brain, that translated to:  "Fuck with the locks, and open the doors while Scope is driving 30 miles an hour down the road."

And as certain as the sun will rise tomorrow, when we pulled into the parking lot, the doors were stuck.  Exterior handle?  Interior handle?  Nothing.  They had to crawl over the front seat to get out.

But at that minute, in an absolute moment of clarity and action, Mayburple knew what her calling in life was to be:

"I'M A SPEED BUMP!" she shouted, as she laid down in the middle of the parking lot.

I think she inspired this sign.  ;-)

Anyone For Candy Corn?

Just add white stocking and shoes and BLAM-O, you're a walking piece of candy corn, perfectly decked out for Halloween.  I'm not sure WHY you'd want to dress like a big candy corn, but that's not my business.  Like the time I mistook the poncho look for homeless chic; there are aspects of "fashion" that have me befuddled.

And I figure that since this dress is going to haunt me until they change the window (it's right by my office), I'd haunt the picture.  At least I'm not like THIS GUY on eBay.

Wheel You Make Me Understand

I must be an idiot.  (Hold down the rousing "Here!  Here!"s)  There's something that has always confused me.  Left me perplexed.  Both sides of the equation.  So, I'm hoping that a smart group of folks like all-ya'll can provide me insight and vision.

I don't bet this:

Is this vandalism?  Is this a property crime?  Is there really a secondary market for bike tires and seats?  Unscrupulous bikeshop owners?  Flea markets?  Scrap dealers?  I mean, this isn't Lance's bike with $,$$$ cutting edge wheels.  Is the risk / reward on this all that high?  How much do you get for a seat, back wheel, and parts of the pedals?  Seriously?

But I also don't get this:

Didn't you pay cash money for this bike?  I see that it's been somewhat stripped, but is the replacement cost of a missing back wheel, seats, and parts of a pedal more than the bike is worth?  If you're going to leave it sitting there for 2 month (First picture:  2009-04-14 Second picture: 2009-06-07) then maybe you should at least retrieve your lock, because that bastard OBVIOUSLY worked like a champion, and let the scavengers have the rest of the carcass.

Can any of you out there explain this to me, because I don't get it.  And this is not the first time I have run across this phenomena.  

Fuzzy Dice

"Build a better mouse trap and the world will beat a path to your door."  But, if you design something that has no practical or redeeming properties what so ever, people from half way across the galaxy will beg you to take their money from them.  Examples of this kind of consumer sagaciousness abound: pet rock, "mood" rings, plastic flamingos, but the crème de la crème of them all is (that's right, you read the title): Fuzzy Dice.

I'm not quite sure what should be done with their inventor.  I'm torn between giving him (or her) a major award or a good tar and feathering followed by being drawn and quartered.  The award would have to be given posthumously, however.  I'm quite sure that I was a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the mast of the Santa Maria, Columbus' flag ship in a picture.  But Chris is not the only VIP who has a pair of the furry cubes.  I heard tell that former president Ronald Reagan had two pair of mink dice with diamonds for spots.  One pair was for the limo, and the other pair was for Air Force 1 (put there on Nancy's insistence, of course).

Now what purpose do those funny fixtures serve?  "None," you say?  Wrong!  I have found three things that the dangling dice do. 

1. They serve to restrict the driver's vision to the right. 
   
2. They allow those of us who have a little taste, and in my case very little, to spot those people who have none.
   
3. I can see how guys might might find it beneficial to, ah…, titillate their girlfriends by prominently displaying a pair of elephantic sized sexual sym-balls.

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Confession time.  The above has been recycled and slightly modified (mostly for formatting) from its original form, as YOU CAN SEE.  I originally published this on October 2, 1986, in my college's now defunct newspaper, The Daily Other.  I was digging through some archives and found it, and seemed like a pretty good blog post to me.

Honest Award

 
I've always thought I was an open and honest blogger.

I keep my full name over on my sidebar.

I've dropped enough hints about where I live that any brain damaged monkey banging on a keyboard could find me if they wanted to.

I've let you all in to watch Cora and I fall in love.

But there's a blogger whose honesty and openness make me look like a filthy lyre.  She came close to quitting blogging a while back.  Made it a whole day before she was driven back.  Not because she wanted to make us laugh or smile.  But because we're her friends, and when things go bad, you don't push your friends away, you pull them closer.

Right now, she telling a heart ripping tale from her past.  Fancy, know I haven't commented much, but there isn't much to say.  But I HAVE been reading.  And interspersed in the story, are posts that make me smile, too.

So, Fancy Schmancy, today I proudly present you the "Honest Blogger Award."  Just to be clear, this does not require you to list 6 things about yourself, show the contents of you purse, or pass on to other people.  This award was had created especially for you, because you deserve it.

You can finish the story (or not) when you're ready.  I'll still be here.

(Link to award: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2423/3597278466_66a9bf2b34_o.gif)

Captivated

 
We have these little computer monitors hooked up in the elevators of my building at work that show the Captivate Network.

A little news.  A little weather.  A word of the day.  A little advertisement.

Brilliant idea really.  People stare at this thing.  I have on purpose missed my floor because I wasn't done reading something.

Yesterday, as I was leaving, there was a story about how Toyota may start leasing some plug-in hybrid cars.  I think that these cars are great ideas, and can't wait for them to hit the market. I'll be in the market for a new car in a couple of years, as my 2001 PT Cruiser has 41,000 miles on it.  (Do the math.  I don't drive much.)  Something like this would be great for me.  And if it were a diesel (bio-diesel) then I would really be doing my part when I fueled up 12 times a year.

Anyway, as I was thinking about this, and how to plug it in at my condo's garage, I thought struck me.  And I need your help, if you know how to do this sort of thing.

I need to trademark a couple of words.

"SparkingLot" & "SparkingGarage" as places where you can recharge while parked.

My Weak End of the Bargain - II

Dance with the one that brought you. Gwen's 40th birthday party extravaganza was at her friends' G&L's.  As a good extravaganza going guest, I brought host and hostess gifts.  One was a bottle of of Pinot Gris that I had altered slightly to have Gwen's full name on it (Almost gave out the last name there, my apologies!)

The other bottle was, well, the DEVIL.

I can't seem to remember the brand.  But it was a simple bottle.  White label.  Black cap. 126 proof rye spirits.  (2/3 rye, 1/3 malted barley.)  The bottle was a wealth of information.  It included the types of woods used to smoke the malt.  The size of the production batch run.  Made somewhere in Virginia.  The distillation date.

It was distilled on 2009-01-26, if I recall correctly.  Not BOTTLED,  DESTILLED!  I guess that whole "aging" stuff is for sissies.  It was completely clear, like vodka.  Went down like tequila's ugly, meaner cousin that no one speaks to at the family reunions, but who shows up anyway just to piss people off.  Smooth it wasn't.  Probably as close to legal "moonshine" as you're going to find.

But, you bring it, you drink it.

I was outside when the hostess came over to inform me that they'd cracked the bottle open, and that it was becoming the "Dare Ya" drink.  I went in to have a shot.

I was not handed a shot glass.

The shot glasses seemed to all be in use, but in fact, just sitting there, so I was given a highball glass instead.  Did I mention 126 proof?  The shot I had poured for me was tiny and sissy, and just barely covered the bottom of the glass.  No.  Hit that again, harder.  If I'm going to do a shot that everyone is daring me to do, I want to get some props for doing it right.  In the end, the shot was 3 or 4 ounces.  It was a touch higher than where I would pour the rum in a rum & Coke.

And with that, I tossed that bad boy back.  It hit my taste buds like kerosene, but I think I avoided 'the wince', and then let it go down the gullet.  Somewhere along the line, the kerosene caught fire.  Now, I've had whiskey the warmed as it went down, and that was a pleasant feeling.  This burned and scalded it's way down, napalm-esque, clinging to and burning my esophagus all the way down 'til it hit the pool of run & diet Pepsi in my belly, and the fire stopped.  I had heartburn all day Sunday and into Monday from it.

Over the course of the evening, I had probably 3 or 4 or 5 more of the shot glass sized shots.  Odd how the memory gets a little fuzzy on those details.  One thing I know for a fact:  Gwen didn't touch the stuff.  H did her shot like it was water.

And as wicked nasty as that stuff was, I can't help but wonder, "How would it be COLD?"

My Weak End of the Bargain - I

Gwen, from Everything I Like Causes Cancer is turning the big 40 this week.  Saturday night was her party.  I drove down from Chicago to St. Louis for it.  (In fact, at least this section of the blog entry is being composed in her living room while she's getting ready for Sunday brunch.)

The drive was fairly uneventful.  Cora brought me the Harry Potter books on CD, so I've worked my way 50% of the way through the first book on the drive down.  I will finish it this afternoon as I roll through the heart of Illinois.  I thought of Sass as I rolled past her house.  And I talked to Lisa, the Butterfly Farmer.  It was a bloggy influenced drive.

As I neared St. Louis, I called a friend of mine from college, who I have know for 25 years.  She's been married for a couple of years now, and I'd never met her husband.  They were out shopping and we met up at Border's.  It was good to see her again and he seemed like a nice guy.  We chatted for about an hour, but then both needed to het the road.

I met up with Gwen at her house.  We had a relaxing Gwen-tini on her front porch and chatted a while.  I gave Gwen her card and presents.  I was asked and offered my advice on her wardrobe for the evening.  I provided my honest opinions, which where ignored.  (It was over which belt to wear, so it didn't really matter too much.)  Shortly, H showed up and drove us to the party at Gwen's friends' house.

And party?  Awesome, but that's her story to tell, so I will be sending off my pictures to her, so that she can tell it, once I shrink them to a mail-able size.

But, tomorrow, I will be telling a bit of my side of the story, called, "Be Careful About Bringing Legal Moonshine To A Party."