...the uncensored mind of Patrick M

Final post

2011-04-28T00:02:00.000-04:00

In the interest of compressing all my content and writing into a single, shiny, streamlined blog, I an shutting this blog down. as with my other blogs, I will be keeping this up for posterity and linking, but stripping much of the extraneous content. If you have this blog in your blogroll, please feel free to update:

Patrick M Speaks (despite advice to the contrary)

Thanks for visiting.

Frank C Murray, 1946-2011

2011-01-28T14:10:00.000-05:00

If you haven't guessed, this is not one of my regular posts. So no references to cleaning or masturbation (except there) for you today.

I was sitting last night, 11pm, working through the twitter feed, yakking it up with Lars, my 3x2 hetero-life mate, and rocking the original Starcraft (which holds up after over a decade), when my phone rang. Saw it was my sister (who had said she was going to bed when I talked to her earlier). Answered it, and it was my brother in law. He said my dad was taken to the hospital and that my mom had come home and found him "unresponsive." I didn't ask further, just sat there a little stunned for a bit. I knew there were two possibilities for "unresponsive." The first would be some kind of stroke or something that rendered him unconscious, and not responsive. I was hoping for this. Because the other option for unresponsive would be a heart attack, which, untreated because he was home alone, could only end one day.

Now since I still had to get one child to school and my ass to work (and because it was our annual chili cook off at work), I got my chili for the next day started as I waited and my kids slept soundly.

(complete side note: As I was tasting chili, at least one of the dozen that were second-rate compared to mine reminded me of his chili. It was like making love in a canoe. In other words, fucking close to water.)

My mother called 10 minutes later to tell my my father had died. He was 64.

One other bit of info: This happened with no warning, no sickness, and no expectation that he wasn't going to go for another couple decades.

I don't yet have the definitive cause of death, or even the details (as I've only heard from my mom and sister while they were still at the hospital last night.

I did hit Facebook and Twitter and post on both. And I also hit Google to start finding pics and info to link to for this post, which I had no energy to write (as I still had things to do. I really couldn't find pictures or mentions of him anywhere online (which was surprising, because he tended to be a complete media whore). I finally remembered his business site, which did give me one paltry pic. Which is kind of one reason I tend to post a lot here: making a mark on the world.

So I'm left to write the first of what is bound to be many tributes to a man who did make a significant mark on the world. And usually, he'd be the first person I'd ask when I have something important to do.

As for Frank C's mark on the world (If you were wondering why I adopted the moniker of Patrick M on 3x2, my father is why), it was significant. He was raised in a family that served others, in a house my grandfather built. He left home at a tender age to shuffle through the shit of Vietnam (where he worked on air bases and drank until the Tet Offensive, where he got shot at). He came home to pursue a career in wildlife. When that went nowhere (due to his politics), he ran for county commissioner as a Democrat (yeah, there was a shudder there), losing the race but having leftover combs he was handing out that lasted decades. I was goign to ask him about running for that said office sometime this year....

He did remain active in wildlife, primarily hunting. It's what started my lifelong love of the outdoors, despite me tendencies to go all hermit-like with the electronics. I was looking forward to him helping me start my kids out hunting....

He eventually went to work for his father-in-law, bending sheet metal and doing HVAC work, then took over the business, transforming it into a manufacturing venture, running that until yesterday. I grew up working around sheet metal and tools. It was in that shop that we sat for a week when his mother died a decade ago, no phones ringing, no work, and just memories. I may have to stop there after I get off of work, although it may be too empty now.

In further pursuit of making the world a better place (and feeding his almost-massive-as mine ego (which is where I got my penchant for grandiosity)) he became involved in the local chamber of commerce, helping it make more money and expanding its base; the local tourism bureau (which he helped found; and most notably, lots of work with Rotary International, which led him to plenty of works in the local area, a trip to Haiti to help out the international basket case, a fire truck to a poor community in Montana, and a stream of medical supplies/vehicles to some of the poorer parts of Mexico.

Now the above list is neither definitive, and may have factual inaccuracy, depending on my memory at the moment. Which, considering the lack of sleep (I had to drift off to TV after 1am and I woke up before my alarm went off at 6:45) is pretty damn good today.

While I have heard it from two people, begun to get condolences, and have seen a stub on the local paper's website informing me he died at 10:59 last night in the emergency room, there's still (thankfully) a part of this that is still not real (being I have to work at least another hour). It will get a little more real when I try to explain this to my nearly 5-year-old daughter (who still won't really understand, as she's never really seen death). Not going to worry about my son yet, as he doesn't have the attention span it requires to even listen, much less the interest in those he cannot see (ah, the relative bliss of autism).

And after I have my kids secured and shipped off to their mother for a pre-scheduled visitation, it will get extremely real, as I'll be going to see my mother, as well as at least one sister (because she'll be out at the house). The other sister is in Illinois, so she may not be home yet today.

So I'm still in the numb.

Now it's time to go and sort things out. I'd trail off as I usually do, but this is less of a continuation of my story and more an end of his.

...redoing the layout on the other blog and other misadventures of weekends alone.

2011-01-09T14:01:00.000-05:00

Since we got into the Christmas rush, I really haven't had a weekend off. Partially, this has been good, as weekends tend to be less productive.

Take this weekend. Other than the editing of the 3x2cast and working (the reason I'm home all alone by myself), I haven't got shit done (other than following the attack in Tucson. Between screen time and old-school RPG'ing (yeah, getting my geek on big time) with hetero life-mate Lars the Pseudo-Kiwi, I didn't even get my usual sit on my ass TV time.

Although TV time is more streaming-based since I ditched all but the budget cable (mostly shit I could get with an antenna). And when it gets warm enough I can dick with an antenna, out goes the budget cable.

To be honest, between the cold and the time I waste, I hardly feel like masturbating more that twice a day (as though I'd let a post go off without some reference to my personal time).

But today, after a marathon of calls where I can't fix the problem (an non-outage outage or two (read as: shitty customer service)), I'll get the younglings, sled them until they freeze, then come home and make extra-meaty chili....

...ear infections and a day with pseudo-wood.

2011-01-05T13:55:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a month and a half since I posted anything, but that's because I was getting to a point to where every post was a lamentation that I needed to clean (which I still do, of course) then followed by a masturbatory reference (since I generally have to wait until the kids are asleep or away before wanking).

Not that the political blog hasn't suffered (December sucked ass), but I completely dropped the ball, partially because I was barely posting there, and working on the 3x2cast, and dealing with the usual Christmas shit (which has stories of cookies and presents and all that shit). And I may, as the cold months continue, share the pics and stories that I remember.

But I want to get this blog steaming again. So let's reboot the whole damned thing.

Today's installment deals with ear infections. My daughter started the whine last night (as she has many times), and the not wanting to sleep, which led to a late-night run to the emergency room to get the prescription to clear it up. So I crawled out this morning tired to get my son out the door for school. And it looks like he spend a good portion of the night on the couch because HE has an earache. In the same damned ear. And he wasn't wanting to move at all today. So I called him off school and called the doctor's office (because at least he lets me sleep), and got an appointment which we could have made had he gone to school.

So I was tired already. And we had something under the tree from the orgy of presents still unopened. It was his Real Construction building set.

First of all, when I saw this, I thought it was a cool-assed choice for a child who's damned near impossible to buy for. Essentially, it has a safe "wood" which you can cut, nail, screw, and build things out of. And because it doesn't create a significant mess and requires little supervision for safety, it would be cool once I showed him some basics. And he might actually learn something despite the lack of schoolage.

So we whipped that sucker out, printed some instructions from the site, and set to build something.

*commencing the bitching*

First of all, all measurements from the instructions on the site are in millimeters or in decimal inches (as in 2.55" or 65mm). And the square they include lacks any precision near this. So does my tape measure, but that's beyond the point. Not a user-friendly thing for a new user. Or someone who knows, more or less what he is doing.

Second, the "wood" itself, well, sucks. It's not bad out of the box, except if you're trying to nail into it, then it's like trying to drive nails into a rolling pile of foam. I'm sure the screws are easier, but it was a challenge to build the simplest item (a little tool box). And of course, my daughter is now sawing all the wood while my son rolls on my bed totally uninterested now.

On the plus, in my frustration, I tightened all the bolts and screws on their bunk bed (which stopped the wobbling) and fixed my foldup table that holds the laptop I'm typing on now (as it was also wobbling like a drunk in an earthquake). So not all was lost.

I think the next project with building that I'll let the kids tackle will wait until it's warm. Then I'll give them some nails, screws, a hammer and a drill, and let them go ape shit with real wood. Then I'll teach them how to dress the resulting wounds. Bonus.

And before you scream about the bloodletting, be glad I'm not letting a 5 and 6-year-old operate a power saw....

...begin the reboot after a month off.

2010-11-16T10:31:00.000-05:00

Yeah, it's been over a month. But I've been on one of my regular dips in activity as the usual shit tends to pile up, setting me in a massive procrastination and binge TV watching (most recently, plowing through all 7 excellent seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (I like strong chicks that kick ass)).

But thankfully, I have not been idle....

No, I didn't punch the boy's tooth out. That was the fun of gravity and playground equipment. Perhaps, since the other front tooth is loose as a result, we'll get to fill in the cliche Christmas song concerning said two front teeth. No, I'm not going to let that annoying song permeate, no matter how vomit-inducingly cute that may be.

However, here's a shocker that justifies the lack of bloggage. After bitching about it for months, I finally got my room cleaned!

It's a tendency I have, to have a spot where I pile up shit. And that pile tends to grow. And when that place is the place that has the least people going in and out (and trust me, the bedroom has seen no action (except personal) in the time since the booting of the insipid Succubus). But now, with the shit mostly organized, perhaps I can at least imagine getting some (really, imagining is optimism for me).

In addition, I've also finally gotten the room set up as the recording studio I had always envisioned.

Which brings me through the 3x2cast.

I'll let the site and it's beautifully-crafted podcasts (which co-stars myself) speak for itself. But I will dig into the history of the 'cast.

It started back in high school, when Lars D, my co-host of the 3x2cast, and I were basically two geeks sitting down getting our Trekkie on when not salivating over games on an old Commodore 64 where you got to kill things to the text description of "reduced it to a fine red mist" and witty hidden text gems like "the Force stopped you, you hozer." Yeah. But we also had a cassette recorder and a shitty condenser mic (which I still have). And we did little radio-like things. And for our level of tech, it was fun.

Fast forward to my college years, I spent a couple of them doing the college radio thing. Had a couple different show, got thrown off the air once, and sort of developed my characters further. Which is why you'll notice in the 'cast that I tend to add titles, like "the Illustrious One," the "Legend of Legends," the "former Pagan god of the airwaves" (a reference to my college radio days, and whatever I pull out of my (cute) ass.

As I was doing this, Lars was rocking the mic for the Kiwis in his adopted homeland.

I had been considering getting some podcasts up since I started the whole blog thing because, while I am a writer at heart, you just can't convey all the fun and lunacy in black and white (or whatever text and background color). And while Lars was on the other side of the world, the technology available (cheap and/or free) wasn't quite adequate for the purpose. Plus, it's hard to maintain a flow when you can't interact face to face.

Especially when you're not a professional and you haven't done it for years.

But now that we're on our game and each podcast is coming more naturally (as long as the shit doesn't crash!!!), it's only a matter of time before world domination begins.

And I think I can keep the bedroom clean until January....

...rockin' the mic.

2010-09-23T23:40:00.001-04:00

Wow, it's been a month since I posted anything. And damn, I should have.

I had to actually look back to see what happened last. Leaving it at a diatribe directed at the lie of my life (the Succubus) was not a way. But considering what came next, it was due.

First of all, I managed to celebrate yet another birthday (and failed to post a tribute to my age, counted in blowjobs, which I shall now do):

After the birthday meh-ness came some festival fun to round out the weekend.

Yeah, it's a cute contest.

And if you're not following me on Twitter (@patrickmspeaks (and shame, shame, shame)), then these pics are new.

And then came the liberation of my hours, kindergarten. Yeah. Shipped the boy off. Special classroom for the autism thing, but sometimes, you gotta.

Thankfully, he's thriving. As in talking. And responding to questions. He still slips into his world often enough. But he's doing more actual engagement, rather than observation (a habit that marked the early years).

We've settled into quite the pattern now, as i'm working first shift. Next year, when both kids are rocking school full time, then I'll have whole hours to work, clean, masturbate, etc....

(...as though you expected me to get through a post without a masturbatory reference.)

But my greatest achievement of the past month was a simple $10 investment in happiness, and bought my children's love for at least 15 minutes.

Yep. Secondhand swing set. It's rusty, it's worn. I had to patch at least two places to make it structurally sound. And it looks like a creaky, barely operational piece of shit.

And they love it.

This pic is from the first day they got on it. I haven't mowed since, partially because the grass under it is dead and worn away underneath the sonofabitch. I've already had to move it once. I'll have to move it again. Because they and the upstairs neighbor kids are wearing it out (which was the plan).

*cheers for parenting win*

So between the kids, and neighbors, and my buddy Larry, who is settling back into life after a decade plus living the Kiwi dream, I've been busy.

Which has been eroded further by the allergy/cold/allergy/cold vicious circle. It's been three weeks, and I'm getting to the tail end of Snottember. I had the snot filling every pore in my sinus part. I had the fever roller coaster for days part. I had the drowning in mucus hacking up a lung part. And I finally dropped the meds today to change conditions after a week of midnight dry cough-till-you-puke days. And I'm downing some medicinal tea (and running out of medicinal whiskey) in the hopes the leftovers I chucked down after bedding the younglings don't get chucked back up tonight. After all, it's not as though my stomach is upset, and I'm not having daily dealings with the Succubus.

Oh, and about the Succubus: At least she's back doing visitation (just not the child support). Which means I have some weekends free.

Yeah, I'm getting to know myself better and getting my geek on with some vintage RPG (the ancient book kind). I might get around to cleaning, eventually.

*pause for raucous laughter*

But, as you can see from the hardware on the right, I finally have the last piece I needed to get started recording. Which means, barring catastrophe, the Illustrious Patrick M and Lars the Pseudo-Kiwi will be rockin' the mic old school. Ish. Our pre-good equipment run was successful. Now, with the new usb mixer, a mic older than me, MY ORIGINAL microphone (from whence came my first flop), and the very computer on which I have been blogging for the last year, we're ready to record.

Now we just need to name the 'cast....

...an open letter to the Succubus.

2010-08-18T20:55:00.000-04:00

As my earlier twitter post indicated, it's a good news/bad news thing.

Last week I get a letter in the mail. The return address was barely obscured by the white-out, revealing a name of someone related to my lovely ex's (the aforementioned Succubus) supposed ex (the one she went up for domestic violence again on).

Turns out he fucked up (took her back in again) after she was released (back in early July). Yeah, it's been a month and a half since she got out. And she's JUST getting hold of me now because she wants to see her kids. More on that in a bit.

*pausing to get and open said letter*

Oh, and she wanted me to contact her to arrange seeing the kids. Either by calling a "contact number" (because they don't have a phone) or by a *begin laughter* a letter!!! *roll on the floor laughing your ass off*

Oh, and after 2 1/2 months of nothing (except putting us on the jail visitation list) she wants to know if we can "do 'shared parenting' with 'no' 'child support.'"

(If you don't know the whole story, this alone explains why I tagged her the Succubus.)

Of course the letter ends with her usual wanting to give the kids her absent kisses and hugs. Which i ignore, because if she's going to be inconsistent and the kids aren't asking, I'm not going to upset their applecart until I have to.

That happens on Friday. Because she called. And wants visitation. So I get to unload them this weekend.

This is where we get to the good part, because it means I get a weekend of no kids.I have to work most of it, but that's not critically important. Hours to fuck around or get to know myself a little better (or bum out watching hours of House (as I have season 2 to plow through now)) are something I really don't have, because after a day of work and kids (or just kids), I'm usually too tapped out to get anything done. Not that I got much done during those weekends previously, but at least I could do something if I wanted.

But even before she called, I wanted to phrase a response to her constant demanding of me despite the fact it was one of the reasons she got the boot (and earned her moniker). So I'm going to do just that. And when her boyfriend (or fuck buddy, or victim, or whatever he is) comes over to talk to me (ha requested this in the phone call today), I'm going to share the following:

To my not-darling, not-beloved, ball-and-chain for another decade and a half Succubus,

After perusing yet another badly written and self-serving letter, with more requests to change things to your liking, I have to wonder if you will ever figure out why your ass got booted in the first place? Have you successfully deluded yourself into believing some kind of fiction where you are the victim and everybody else is to blame for the massed clusterfuck that is your life? And what makes you think you're going to actually get a concession on anything parental after yet another example of why you're barely fit to claim the name "mother?"

Specifically, I refer to your attempts to weasel out of child support when you've proven the only thing you might be good at is providing an income stream to help raise the two children you produced, primarily through deceiving me (when I was much more naive and thinking with my dick). As I said several months ago (before you dropped off the radar for a couple of months), we could talk about it. However, as I've had plenty of time to think, and raise my (note the pronoun is singular) children alone, I've decided we can revisit this request in the future under the following conditions:

First, you need to actually be a mother. This means fulfilling all the expectations that your visitation rights include. For example, seeing your kids on a regular schedule would be a start.

Second, you need to prove your ability to shoulder half the burden of raising the children. This means getting the existing child support up to date, and maintaining both it, and employment for a reasonable period (like 2 years). After all, if you can't even keep a fucking McJob and pay the paltry $300 per month, what makes you think you can actually afford half the costs of parenting?

Third, and most important, you need to get off the downward spiral you've put your life on. I can't really talk to the kids about you, because the tales would be about either being a leech, or a criminal, or a whore. Those are the experiences that I have to draw on, which requires me to be silent when talking to them. In that sense, it would have better that you had grown sick and died, because then I could have constructed some fiction which would allow the children to remember a mother that loved them rather than the haphazard shit they witness when in your presence.

Oh, and one last thing. I'm not sharing any benefits I get for the kids with you when I have to bear all the costs. So get off your lazy ass and buy your own damned milk.

You know, maybe I should just print it out and mail the shit off to her. But with her level of obtundity, I'm sure that it will just sail right past. Plus, there's a thing about not giving away too much.

I think I might be best to articulate this shit in person....

...steered into a rut.

2010-08-10T09:50:00.000-04:00

I don't know if it's the heat, or it's the fact that the kids, being preschoolers, are unrelenting, or if it's just the nature of life, but I'm feeling more oppression in the rut I'm in this time than usual. And trust me, I've been in ruts.

My past relationship with the Succubus was a hella-rut, one that I maintained until I had no real choice but to get her out.

After my grandmother died, I kind of lived alone in her house for a while until my family sold it, because it was comfortable and didn't require change. At least until the money ran out.

I ended up in a deal with a house that degraded into a mess until that went South, after getting out of a year in a 60-hour a week shit job. And that was after building the college debt mess.

It's a pattern with me, usually fueled by a woman or lack thereof.

So that brings me back to where I am now. I'm not sure how to pull myself out of this one, other than just working and working and working. That's probably the actual answer. The big problem is that I have another 15 years in this rut. And I have to make sure my children are ready to go out into the world at the end of it. So no fuckups on this one.

So I might just ride this rut to the end, because the right pieces seem to be falling into place. True, finances, resources, and other things stand in the way (including a certain buddy's refrain of "If I had my computer..."). But I've always thought that the right combination of things will lead to me doing what I was meant to do rather than just wandering and wondering.

Thankfully, I have some ideas......

...since it's been a month already.

2010-07-22T11:40:00.000-04:00

Literally a month. I checked. And so much (and so little) has happened that I don't know where to begin. So let me take a minute to peruse my post of 6/22 before I do this post on 7/22.

*sounds of incredulity and humor as the prior post is read*

Okay, that was fun. Let's just do some quick hits to cover the missing moments:

The Succubus finished her state paid vacation (jail) on July 2. Someone saw her on the street (hooking?) some time after that. That's all I got there.

Lars, the now-former pseudo-Kiwi, moved from the far side of the world to 5 blocks north of the center of my illustrious universe. Sweet.

However, I also decided (around the same time) that it was time to move a little closer to the family. It's only a 10 minute drive I'd be cutting out, but that also happens to be where the babysitter is, which would eliminate most of my driving.

Then, the apartments that were empty began filling and we got new neighbors upstairs. With preschool kinds. And a babysitter wife. Conveniently, this eliminates the problem caused by the departure of the Succubus from the land of the responsible again.

So I'm back to contemplating, and find myself still debating the move rather than fairly certain of the need. Although it was enough to get my room half cleaned.

And I finally think I might have found the treatment for my headaches. Naproxen sodium, 660mg, which, being something I was relatively new to trying, I had not yet exceeded the maximum dose on the bottle (440mg in an 8-12 hour period). Unfortunately, I discovered it on the last 3 pills I had. But it did successfully kill a mounting headache. Sweet as my salsa.

Speaking of the salsa, let me lay down my recipe. It's my own recipe, based on all the salsas I've had, with some tweaking and guessing. Note I can eat this over several days, and kind of forget to eat anything else....

2 pounds of tomatoes (whatever's cheapest, of course)
1 to 1 1/2 cup onion (because I don't really measure, almost all numbers from here out are guesses)
1 cup peppers (at least three varieties, including bell, a mild or sweet, and a hot)
1 apple, peeled (not a typo, I put an apple in it.)
1 tbsp dried cilantro (although fresh would be better)
1 tbsp lime juice
1tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp cumin
couple pinches of salt

I chop then spin all the ingredients in a food processor to fine particles, mix them, let them sit a day. Then I just eat it. I've already polished a bowl off before lunchtime.

I've also learned the value of twitter, because I can read through it fast. So if you're not tweeting, I'm probably missing something. Especially since it's been a while since I checked my email.

But between the normal summer slumber, the kids, and a political situation in which there is no discourse (although I need to get a post up there one of these years), it's just been a season of avoiding.

Even the masturbatory references....

...re-forming Edivon as the Sccubus is shipped off.

2010-06-22T01:00:00.000-04:00

Parts of the title will not be explained in this post as that would take another entire post (and because a little mystery makes things interesting). And since I've already cleared all my email, dropped two posts on SPD, and gotten through the blogrolls, as well as mowing the lawn and wrangling the rugrats as usual (from the piss-soaked bed to the making said bed and getting them tucked), AND since it's after midnight, this is about all you're getting.

The coolest thing in the world right now is that my buddy Lars (who has guest posted on SPD a couple times and who's blog, Surreal Life Geek (currently dead due to his relocation (now that I want to link you (you dumbass ( :) ))) is in my blogroll) has forsaken his adopted home of New Zealand and relocated his pseudo-Kiwi ass (and his genuine Kiwi wife) back stateside. I have no expectatinos other than shit will get geekier. Back when we were (hetero) dicking around in high school, the geek thing didn't do much for the ladies. Now, with geek being cooler, it probably still won't do dick for me. On the plus, based on my dating experience since then, that won't be a bad thing.

The biggest advantage is that with much of my brain running dry, getting together with someone with whom I've always clicked with and has always inspired copious ideas (and dick and fart jokes) may mean that I could get some energy and some new material (and kill any chances of making mistakes of the female persuasion (which I'm good at)).

Speaking of said mistakes, I managed to track down the Succubus. When she sent me (and the kids) a letter. Which I won't read them. Because it's a letter from jail.

I did hop on to the sheriff's site, looked her up. She was booked for the domestic violence, but she's still in because it violated her probation (which she got from her DV conviction involving me). And based on the Ohio Revised Code, with a second conviction on charges, as well as the probation issue, she's looking at a felony. And the judge she goes before is very popular with the voters and despised by anyone who ends up standing before the bar as a defendant. Oh, and with that felony, the mandatory is six months.

Long story short, she's going to be shipped off. Like both of her brothers

I will say that it is a sad situation. Despite my justified anger, it's sad, really. Because this is the person I'll be dealing with for another decade. So I'm going to find myself trying to help her where practical. Because my children don't deserve to put up with a nutcase with violent tendencies for a mom. And the fact that's what they have now is partially my fault. So where I can, I'm going to try to reverse the damage. It may not be much, but I'm going to outline a few things I'll probably talk to her about (leaving out some specifics for privacy purposes).

But I'll get into unscrambling the omelette when I'm not ready for bed....

...damned writer's block.

2010-06-17T16:15:00.000-04:00

It's always been one of my biggest stumbling blocks. I don't completely run dry on ideas. Hell, I spit 30 ideas a second when I get revved up. The problem is trying to paste that jumble of hints, ideas, and wisdom into a cohesive narrative that anyone that isn't really high would want to read. And there's the time it takes for me to write.

I'm having to sit here and force myself to write this, because the beginning of this has been in my head for a few days.

So my problem is not having stuff to write, but the discipline to do so.

Over on SPD, I was able to keep the greatness coming for a couple years. But the infighting and bullshit tends to drag me down. Then all the mental fun kicks in, and I get reclusive.

It's bad enough that the Gmail account currently has 61 messages, stretching back into May, I'm sure I missed a bunch of tweets, and I'm trying to think of the last time I've hit the blogroll.

Here on this blog, it's worse. Do I write abut the need to spank it again because nothing has happened as usual (especially since my world is very contracted due to kids and working at home. Do I go on about something cute my kids did? Sometimes, but I'm usually on to yelling at them for something else, or I finally got them bedded after an eternity, or there's something else I want/need to do. Do I say anything about cleaning? I've got my kitchen and bathroom under control now, but that was relatively easy.

Of course, there are a few things to share. The ever-loving excuse for a "mother" I cursed my kids with, the Succubus, has flaked out again. Something about being arrested for domestic violence, again, and getting the boot by her victim/boyfriend/ex/whatever. Of course, this means she disappears off the map, maybe dropping a note about how much she misses the kids and how much she wants to see them (despite not calling me and scheduling time).

Of course, since the Succubus couldn't keep a job even when she was being sheltered and screwed, it will be a few months before she gets her claws/sucker into the next hapless bastard that couldn't find better and prefers banging someone rather than something (insert Fleshlight reference). Meanwhile, I keep the kids focused on the people that are in their life. Which ain't her, again. And the spanking of said monkey continues.

A side note: I will be making sure that the next woman is approved by my family before things get too serious. I've proven I have no sense/judgment/reason when my junk has any stake in the situation. So yes, if you're the next woman, my family has veto power over my choice. They have to; I have kids.

On the plus, I'm moving back to first shift tech support, which means hours more in sync with the rest of my family. And since it's also occurring during summer, it's the perfect time to uproot and move closer to my family. The sad thing is that I'll be leaving strawberries and bell peppers and pumpkins (smashing the remnants from last year behind the garage and not mowing it has proven useful) behind (I'll take the green onions in whatever condition they are.

Okay, enough catchup, time to find the floor in my room (because it's the room that doesn't get cleaned)....

...leave them at the park.

2010-05-17T12:01:00.001-04:00

I think this is going to be the first official crosspost subject between my two blogs (I'll assume you've read the SPD post first, if not, click here next). Ultimately, this post is an advertisement for:

MAY 22: “TAKE OUR CHILDREN TO THE PARK…AND LEAVE THEM THERE DAY”

Free-Range Kids is officially declaring Saturday, May 22 — the weekend before Memorial Day– the very first, “Take Our Children to the Park… And Leave Them There Day."

What?!

Just that. If our goal is to get kids back outside (it is), and playing together (it is), and for parents to relax (it is), and to start creating community again (it sure is!!!), then “Take Our Children to the Park… And Leave Them There Day” is a great first step.

Across the country — what the heck, across the world — parents will converge upon local playgrounds and parks with their school-age kids. They will tell them to have fun, make friends and don’t leave with anyone. Then the parents will wave goodbye and the kids will amuse themselves for whatever amount of time they’ve decided with their folks. An hour. A morning. Or maybe even just half an hour, to get used to the whole thing, which, admittedly, sounds radical. But is it?

Now I've been going on about the Free-Range blog for a while now (and I bought the book). But I never really clarified why I got on the Free-Range bandwagon in the first place. So let me share (as I always do).

First, it's out of necessity as a single parent. One thing I've discovered as my kids have learned how to climb and open and (more or less) operate everything in the house is that if I'm monitoring them every second, I really don't have any time to get shit done. And on warm days, I'm confined to the outdoors. And then there's their strategy of one running to the front, the other to the back. Which means no sitting, getting anything done, shopping, etc.

I wasn't this way in the beginning, because I got all kinds of advice and a wall of products designed to keep babies perfectly safe and mentally stimulated so they can fart Mozart. And it was tiring even before I pried the Succubus (aka my third child) off my leg. And the constant need to be ever vigilant began to breed apathy in me. Then they really got into exploring. So my choices were either be a slave to their activities or change the equation.

So even before I discovered Lenore's Free-Range blog, I realized I had to work to get my children as independent as possible. With my son's challenges (a fun diagnosis of atypical Autism), at 5, he's damned near impossible to watch every second (that whole circling the house thing). Thankfully, that 4-year-old daughter of mine has a tendency to try mothering her big brother (even if he ignores her and knocks her down half the time). And I've worked to set a difference between acceptable boundaries, unacceptable activities, and shit you will get into immediate and terrible trouble for no matter what (the street, hot stove, etc.). And so far it's worked. I won't go into absolute details, lest I leave a record for any future actions by children's services (as my lovely ex, the Succubus, is looking for ways to get out of paying child support (as in "can we talk about shared parenting?")).

But that includes letting them play outside without constant supervision. And so far, despite what the news says, they haven't been snatched, raped, killed, and eaten (not necessarily in that order) by some Stranger Danger pedophile. And outside of some rare chance, it's not something I worry about (as in when I can't locate a child, I don't assume that's the problem). Which brings me to what happened to my philosophy as I became a convert to Free-Ranging.

Second, I grew up as a Free-Range Kid before it became a movement. This is an important point. I, as my father before me, and his father before him, cut that part of the umbilical cord early. As in we were each equipped with the tools to stay marginally safe without parents hovering over us. Those tools have evolved over the years of course with changes in society and technology, as have things can get into. As in I don't think my kids are going to go to their grandfather's house to smoke (which is how said grandfather got started smoking when he was a kid), and they're more likely to dick with a computer and download violent shit than shoot .22 rifles in the basement (again, that's my dad). But they're still interested in learning about stuff the adults are doing, then taking off to play without adults sitting on them all the time.

But children haven't really changed, and are just as capable as they have always been. Only now, in this generation, have we gotten so paranoid that we attempt to lock them in a properly-furnished playpens and feed them a perfect diet, and give them proper educational non-commercial toys and watch every mouse click and only let them watch certain channels at certain times less they hear the word damn (if that's the worst I ever heard from my kids, I'd be convinced they're deaf, considering they've heard me give free reign during a political speech).

So when I discovered a blog and philosophy that was something that I was already gravitating toward because I instinctively knew it was the right thing to do, there was no question it was something I would embrace (and when the kid get older, stophomework.com (because this was the reason I hated school for obvious reasons)).

Now, as for the 22nd: I don't have the kids on Saturday, so I won't be participating. However, were I able to, here's what I'd do. There are a couple more kids nearby, one conveniently in between my to in age, another school age. That's four kids, the youngest of which (mine) I'd trust to stay without an adult as long as she was with older kids. And the oldest seems to be fairly competent (although with some helicoptering issues). And we happen to be a small town with no actual known predators (either animal or stranger danger (I checked, 3 registered, none a threat to kids)). In two years, I suspect the kids and I will all be ready to do it. After all, they're pretty damned capable already.

Considering I just had to remind that 4-year-old of knife safety as she lopped the top off another unwashed strawberry all by herself....

...made it through another week.

2010-05-14T16:51:00.000-04:00

Yeah, that's a cliche beginning, but what do you expect. It's a jumble of lots of little things. Most days and weeks and centuries are such. At least, that's the way it is when deep conversations include smashing a spider in the garage and whether the pee in the undies is enough to justify changing them.

First of all, my cinematic experiences. Last weekend marked the first time in a long while that I managed to get out to the theater. Last time before this was to go see a little movie called Iron Man. Considering it was Iron Man 2 that I went to see this time (and there were movies I missed that I probably should have seen in theater, like ~~Dances with Smurfs~~ Avatar), you can understand it has been a while.

Thankfully, in our one grocery store village, there also happens to be one screen in one theater. And it was within walking distance (which, in hindsight wasn't the greatest since it was also raining (which didn't stop me from getting wet)), so I slogged off to enjoy a movie that my DNA was programmed to like. Since I already posted the theatrical trailer, here's the clip from the movie with Iron Man making his triumphant entry to the Stark Expo. Max the screen and turn up the speakers for this, then come back when you're done.

Now if you want spoilers, go somewhere else. Needless to say, it comes down to the characters. As long as you can keep Robert Downey Jr on the screen, any problems with the plot disappear.

Which brings me to the second film. Which was a little amateur project from down in New Zealand from some 48-hour filmmaking contest. It's here mainly because my buddy Lars (who's posted over on the political blog a few times) gets about 20 seconds of screen time as part of the team that put it together. I'll let him add any pertinent details or accidental clips of visible sex that don't appear in the film:

Yeah, I've been reduced, for the most part, to letting other people churn out the creativity while I'm psychologically mired in crunching through reality. Like last weekend, where I did actually talk to my mother on Mother's day, as she called first to have me make her computer work. It was a one-minute fix.

Or this morning, having to spend an hour changing brake pads. Of course, one brake rotor feels like a mountain range on one side and has a big stress fracture on the other. And I had to replace an anti-rattle clip with a paper clip on the other set (because the alternative was a hardware kit for $26). Luckily, I've never messed up a brake job, and since I have driven at least 30 miles since changing them (at my usual brisk pace), I didn't this time either (I'm typing this, ain't I?).

So we get to do Mother's day a week late this weekend, which sucks a little because my little sister got her schedule flopped and was home from Illinois last weekend instead of this weekend. but it's also good because I have the kids this weekend, and their mother (our beloved Succubus) had them last weekend for the actual day. And since she's only annoying rather than a nightmare to deal with right now, no problem. Except she got canned from her career in fast food, again, so there goes the child support, again.

Strangely she brought up shared parenting, indicating she wanted the kids a little more over the summer. If she could read the damned custody agreement, she'd see she does get them for a vacation (for me, in reality) of two whole weeks. Of course, since she's fully latched to the government tit (welfare, food stamps, food pantry, and all the trimmings), I'll probably have to throw some cash or food her way just to have some free time.

Meanwhile, it's a matter of getting the boy ready for kindergarten, in the alternative class (as the classroom would be a nightmare at this point). And figuring out what I need to teach them that the government schools won't (which will make for a post on SPD of course). But for this weekend, it will be a little exploration, maybe a shove out into the rain (for that whole death of pneumonia thing), and maybe some fishing (because my nephew can actually teach them). That, and I picked up a thing of Cajun spice for free called "Slap Ya Mama," which I think will have to be used on the grill this weekend.

Of course, I still need to clean something....

...11 songs I wish I wrote.

2010-04-24T18:05:00.000-04:00

It was as I was trying to get the shit (both mine and the younglings') together so that I could ship them off to the Succubus for the remainder of the weekend when it happened. I had been streaming some music over the PS3 (theradio.com) as I got everyone bathed. I bounced from jazz, then a few versions of rock. And then the fateful call from the cutest girl on the planet, when given a couple options, she called out "hair bands" and the song began (it's the first one n this list, in fact). And the thought in my head, which I think I edited was, "Fuck, I wish I'd written this song!"

So what follows is not necessarily my list of "favorite" songs, because there are some songs that I like at the moment, some that capture the spirit of something, and some songs that just happen to fit somewhere. This list would definitely be great songs, but great songs with orchestration that you can see the video in your head. And it's the kind of music I've half-assedly tried to capture when I can be motivated enough to get a guitar. And it's not even a complete list. It started with 10, but I had to add another because I ran out of space. So feel free to add another if you'd wished you wrote something else.

1. Bon Jovi - Livin' On a Prayer - A child of the 80's that grew up without Bon Jovi was abused. Because even if they weren't your favorite all the time, they could always be counted on for big-ass sound that flat out rocked. There are plenty of songs to pick. This one gets it for two reasons. First, it's a ballad. It tells a simple story. And the intro, which starts with a fade in, then just builds to the start of the song. And the song builds all the way to the chorus. And it never fails, at appropriate volumes, to give me a moment of goosebumps.

2. B52's - Love Shack - For the most part, it's nonsensical crap for lyrics. But it's grotesquely, sweetly seductive in that you can't help but bounce to this obscenity to deep meaningful music. Seriously, turn it up really loud, stand in the middle of the room and see if you can't NOT bounce to it. I can't describe why this song is good. It has to be blasted.

3. The Doors - The Celebration of the Lizard - This is actually a sequence of a few songs and bits of poem, the song "Not to Touch the Earth" being the only part that made it out of the studio. I found it on their live In Concert album. It was something that defined how I did my college radio back in the day (tapes survive), and it's what happens when you mix poetry and jam band performance and a shitload of people (and assloads of LSD). And it's something almost too organic to be written down. But it was and I wish I had.

4. Alanis Morissette - Perfect - This is one of the lesser-known tracks off Jagged Little Pill. It's also a buildup of sheer agony that other tracks touch on, but don't quite convey. It's the musical equivalent of having your guts ripped out, your soul shattered, and all that there ever was made meaningless. It's not a pissed off song, or a contemplative song, or whatever bohemian shit Alanis is up to this week. It's pure, beautiful pain.

5. System of a Down - Chop Suey! - Sometimes it takes just one song for me to pick up and listen to a band and thereby get hooked. This is the one that got me to first pay attention to System. Half the fun is the quiet moments and cuts to silence. And even if the majority of the song is high-speed, high-octane thrashing guitar, it's mixing those elements that makes it a symphony worthy of recognition.

6. Kenny Rogers - The Gambler - A few years back, I decided to try my hand playing in front of people (after some previous disasters). Plus, I had honed my stage presence in some choral work. And I needed a song that was universal, was that good, and could be rendered on just a 12-string and my voice. My version doesn't sound that much like the original (because Kenny isn't my style), but there are few songs that are better. Period.

7. Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends - If you want one album to listen through without interruption, the opus that is American Idiot is well worth it, even the Bush-ripping parts (because a few songs wouldn't be on this list if my politics dictated the bands I listen to). And track 11 on the album (September 11, get it?) is both emblematic of how the album functions, as well as reminding us how much the world changed in a sense. And it does both lament and buildup to an explosion of emotion. Three chords (more or less) never sounded so sublime.

8. Billy Joel - Scenes From an Italian Restaurant - This one is on the list because it is a song within a song within a song. How the fuck do you do that? And the whole ballad thing, of course. For me, it's being able to engage my mind, my emotions, and my ear. This is one of those songs that probably wouldn't make the top 10 anything. But then again, when you have a song that keeps changing, even if it has some douche horn work, it makes me wish I had come up with it.

9. Tenacious D - City Hall - I can't believe I've got the fucking D on the list. But this particular song has the epicness, goes all over the map, and is funny as shit. That it's the nonsensical funny album from two ingenious fat fucks doesn't diminish from the quality of writing and performance. Makes me wish they put these bastards in a video game that rocks.... Wait, they did.

10. Meat Loaf (written by Jim Steinman) - Paradise by the Dashboard Light - First of all, I have to credit both writer and and musician. After all, Elton John would just plunk piano without Bernie Taupin as his hetero music partner. And this was a hard one, because there were a few options from the same album that were just as awesome, and furthermore, there's some history of this song and the Succubus. But I'm not going to let that ruin a song for me (there are a few songs that have exes attached). What put this over the top is the tendency to tell a story, be ridiculously over the top musically, and call the struggle of a guy trying to fuck a chick in the backseat like it's a baseball game, turning it into a girl manipulating a guy into selling his soul to get laid, then regretting the insane choice he just made. Wow, it's almost autobiographical.

11. Don McLean - American Pie - I sat down with my guitar one day to see if I could master this epic of epics. I can play through it. I suck at some points. But if you wanted to capture what I wanted my music to become, this song would be the blueprint. It might sound completely different, but this is the ultimate one hit wonder song. How was the poor bastard ever going to top this? Which is why I saved it for last. I don't think further elaboration is necessary.

So with the kids gone, maybe I'll pick up my axe and murder one or two of these myself (assuming I get some cleaning done too).....

...from atop the 2-story mulch pile.

2010-04-21T18:31:00.000-04:00

As I make my way through the process of turning the yard into a nice thing (mowing on Monday, edging on Tuesday, shaping the bushes today, and the whacking of the weeds tomorrow), I have the opportunity to be outside and to let my kids roam, because I can be right there when the inevitable nosy neighbor decides to call the cops because my preschoolers are near the street and I'm not strictly in line of sight.

But either way, it's a daily exercise in managing the chaos. Which brought me to some fun popping up on Twitter from the Free Range Kids territory.

(side note, I should have the book of said philosophy whenever Amazon gets it delivered.)

This one started with the post entitled: ANNOUNCING MAY 22: “TAKE OUR CHILDREN TO THE PARK…AND LEAVE THEM THERE DAY”. Now for clarification, 4 and an autistic 5 is too young to participate to the fullest here (although my 4-year-old daughter wouldn't complain), but I do have a neighbor who has a daughter in preschool with my kids and an older son (6 or 7), who might be old enough (except they tend to helicopter too much from what I've seen). And if I could find a family with an 8 or 9-year old, maybe I could ship them away for a few.

Of course, that's the advantage of being in the small town. I'll be able to get them riding bikes to the store for me in a few years, once they acquire the ability to ride safely on the road, watch for cars, and count money. It does depend on where you live to a degree. But I have a feeling that there are parents that would flip if their kids climbed to the top of a two-story pile of mulch. But mine were up there today as I loaded up a garbage can full to spread out in the flower beds. I went about halfway up when it was time for them to come down, as it was the first time they climbed a giant shifting pile of dirt and rotting wood chips. It's probably safer than climbing the slick and shifting boulders out at the lake, but since it was their first time on top of the community mulch pile, it never hurts to be handy.

Oh, and if you want the balanced assessment (and the ridiculous comments by helicopter parents), here's another site assessing the aforementioned kid-ditching event.

In the end, my embrace of the Free-range mentality is part necessity (single parenthood helicoptering would leave me no time for gaming and masturbation), and part opportunity to raise kids that can go out there and live in the world without hanging on my ass for everything. And being who I am, it will be to their benefit.

Finally, for the helicopter parents out there, here's the next thing you need to worry about:

As for me, I miss the good ol' days of playing with mercury in your bare hands....

...roller coaster weather, Twitter, and bread.

2010-04-18T17:29:00.000-04:00

The funnestestest part of April in Ohio is the weather. We had some brutal cold to end March, followed by temperatures in the 80's (for my foreign readers, you're used to converting us provincial bastards who use Fahrenheit, so ho to it), followed by frost warnings and sub-freezing temperatures, and then back into the 80's, then cold again. It's marked by the need to have a winter coat, a jacket, and shorts, because you'll need all three at some point in the day some days.

I do have the windows open and the heat off right now, but as it is only in the 50's, I'm going to probably close that up.

But it does have its advantages. For example, it looks like I'll be mowing grass tomorrow, which is better than having to wait until May. Last year hella-sucked for grass growth, especially since the front portion of the yard is still recovering from road reconstruction, which killed off the grass. And the village has resown the grass twice, and I've thrown myself some seed in there too. But it's half weed/half bare for the most part.

But there are signs that the grass is greener now. I threw some seed on a bare spot up near the steps, and it is sprouting beautifully. And I'm really trying to see if I've got some green thumb going on. I planted some new flowers, and plants to fill out the front, got some caging around my rose bush so it doesn't flop around like my cock at the thought of my future sex life, and threw some fruit and vegetables in to boot. Have some strawberries, bell peppers, and green onions in my back flower bed (which is better than having weeds), and am working up a hanging basket of strawberries, and a basket of tomatoes. So I'll have to let you all know if that works.

And the fastest way to do that? Twitter! Yes, I have submitted myself to the 140-character limit that microblogging requires. Actually, it's a real challenge for someone as verbose as me. Considering that some of my compound curses alone evade the character limit, and that I abhor the use of excessive abbreviations in almost all cases (except instant messaging, where it's really an organic conversation, although I just abbreviate for the common crap (brb, bbiab, gfyysmfpos, etc.)). Really, unless you really have a limit to your characters, do you really need to shorten every word by a letter or two? It makes you sound like a retard.

That's one thing that I've been working on with my kids is the proper use of the English language. Of course the fact that I often use the F-word twice to describe a newborn puppy does tend to make it more of a challenge. And imagine what happens when I hear a politician laying out the bullshit.

Which is why I like to do the simple things. Like making bread. The only problem with the breadmaking was that it was labor-damned-intensive. My stand mixer fried a few years ago, and that meant hand kneading the shit. 10 minutes, let it rise, beat it down some more, rise it again, shape it and bake it. 2 1/2 hours later, excellent bread. But it's work.

So the answer would be a bread machine. I finally got around to getting one as I perused some garage sales on Thursday. I had originally planned to be doing a garage sale this year, but I got behind on everything (and am still behind now), so I planned to do the community sales on Saturday, and slept in (no kids weekend). So my garage sale experience was a few on the way home from a shuffle-the-autism-boy meeting at school, and a walk around the block to check out the neighbors on Thursday. So i finally got the machine set up, loaded, and walked away. However, the kneading paddle didn't move.

Shit. $10 wasted. Of course, being the industrious son of a bitch that I am, I got around to tearing into the machine today (while fielding tech calls). The biggest challenge was, of course, unscrewing the thing. I had to undo some of the screw removal damage before I could check anything. What I found only seconds later was that it was one of those stupid fucking kill switches, the kind that they put on because people are stupid enough to not close the lid. It was literally a 30-second fix once I go in there. That machine is making delicious bread right now, in fact. As long as I didn't short on the flour.

Which reminds me of how easy my longest call was to actually fix after I got past all the bullshit in between. 40 minutes. And due to limitations on what we can tech, it took 35 minutes to figure out that the computer WAS connected. And the problem was solved by unchecking ONE BOX.

I think solving most problems in life involves digging through a lot of shit to fix the simplest thing in the world.....

...NOW they're candy cigarettes.

2010-04-07T11:30:00.000-04:00

So as the kids have returned to school, a little of their Easter candy has trickled it. One of those items that came home to day (a la pinkeye boy) was a box of candy sticks. I remember these. You remember these. In the old days, they were candy cigarettes. You'd get them out and "smoke them" as long as you could, nibbling them down to a tiny little butt, then with a quick bite, not make the butt mess that real cigarettes cause.

Wanting my kids to have the authentic experiences of yore (which now mostly come in dollar boxes rather than nickel and dime bins), I made with the red food coloring on one end, so now my kids can blaze up like I did back in the days when smoking wasn't a capital crime worse than pulling out your ballsack in the mall.

I think this is part of that whole movement to sanitize childhood. And I'm talking about more than the bottles of antibacterial goo dotting the landscape of kid-dom these days. It's the idea we can protect our children from every danger big or small, and shield them from every idea that isn't written in a parenting manual. Not so for my youngling.

This includes playing in dirt, playing with real tools, working around a hot stove (except when deep frying, of course, and supervised), cutting stuff (with actual knives, supervised), watching things that don't have the stamp of approval of the "kid experts" (except the sexual stuff), secondhand smoke, strange dogs, bees, falling on concrete and stone, talking to strange adults, and smoking candy cigarettes.

Because if they get to do all this stuff, then they'll ask about it. And then I can teach them....

...some Easter reflections and the fun of pinkeye.

2010-04-06T17:48:00.000-04:00

As the weather took a little dive on Saturday and the final bits of an orgy of candy were set into place, I got to enjoy another day of running around with the kids. We had put my daughter's birthday party earache aside, had gotten through another week of work and school (ending with preschooler bowling on Wednesday), and were set on a course for some BBQ chicken (slapped on some dry rub, a honey mustard sauce, and some hickory smoke (amazing what you can do with some wood chips, an old tin, and a power drill). It was good, of course.

Then, in the middle of Wal-Mart, the eye pus emerged.

I had noticed Friday night that the boy had some redness in his eyes. And both kids have been coughing a little more, mainly because the allergy season is up (and the drugs are being administered). But as soon as that goop became apparent, i knew it was conjunctivitis time. Especially since it's not the first time he's had it. Thankfully, we didn't have anything scheduled until Monday afternoon, so no worries.

Which brought us to Easter, the playing of the full Messiah (of which I can rock many of the tenor parts well even now), and the orgy of candy that, so far, is all my kids really are getting out of Easter at this time. And that's where I run into yet another problem of a spiritual nature.

A short post by Beth crystallizes this, which, looking back, I think I misread it a little. But this is the problem with my shift away from Christianity. I cannot accept the story of the death and resurrection of Jesus without a belief in it, and therefore it is relegated to a story of incredible sacrifice and love.

But how do I relate the valuable parts of the story without having the belief in it I grew up with. I don't want to adopt a faith for the kids sake, nor do I want to go a purely secular route in this sense, as I do believe in the existence of God, in some form or another, just not the excessive dogma that organized religions bring to it.

And if you doubt the existence of God, listen to the Messiah all the way through. If you're not moved at any level (even if you're atheist), you have no soul. Of course, if you're an atheist, you don't believe in a soul, but you should be moved anyway.

So a good Easter was had by all, and then came Monday.

I had scheduled a dentist appointment at 9am so as to get drilled while the kids were in school. Except they didn't have school. Then there was the pinkeye to deal with, which meant a visit to the doctor. Earliest appointment, 11:30. That left a little under 2 hours to burn, as I didn't want to have to drive home and then back for the appointment (about 25 minutes). So we went shopping (including the post-Easter candy buy), washed the car, and got the kids irritable. Then we get to the doctor, I deal with the latest stupid government regulation, and then we wait. And because it's almost lunch, and we've already been dragging ass to not have to drive home, the wait at the office is long. Unusually (for their doctor) long. 45 minutes long. Most of that was spent in the waiting room, stocked with toys. We get the scrip, and hit the pharmacy. But then comes the insurance insanity. The prescription is one not covered. So they call back to the doctor. But the office is out to lunch. So my choices were either wait and come back later for the eye drops once they get the prescription changed or shell out the $20 to get what was prescribed. I paid the cash for 5ml of droppy goodness. By the time we have the eye drops and hit the road, it's 1pm, which means a bag and gag run to feed the younglings. And the fun of getting eye drops in the boy's eyes.

But no, this isn't the end, because I forgot about the rules concerning day care. As in he has to be on the drops for 24 hours before the babysitter can take the kids. And since there are babies there today, I'm boned. This is as I am supposed to be dropping the kids off before work, so there's no time left. Luckily, my sister happened to be heading my way, and I wisely had shown up a little early just in case. The bonus there was that my sister (a round trip of 40 minutes) brought the kids home rather than me having to run to get them. And since I got off at 9, and they have school, meaning bedtime is normally 9, this was good.

Of course, my son was a little worn out, and didn't make it to school today. But at least it was warm enough to get out, get some coffee, get some grass spread, and get a couple plants going.

And any day that the doors and the windows are open is a good day....

....journey into ultimate suckitude.

2010-03-26T16:36:00.000-04:00

Obviously I've been a little down since the passage of the government health care bill on Sunday, and have been chronicling that on the political blog (and will do so after this post. So I've been seeking escape into the wastelands of D.C. In 2277. In Fallout 3. And the cool things I've done include finding the Declaration of Independence, visiting several museums (and shooting super mutants, ghouls, and robots), climbing the Washington monument to boost a radio station, and seeing the remnants of both the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial. Strangely, I like this DC better than the real world one.

But I've also been fighting computers (unfortunately, it sucks more in the real world). Yesterday, my phone software (critically important to working at home) took a shit on me. So after several tries to resolve it, I got to haul ass into work, with plans to get things working later. And as it was a relatively nice day, I threw my lightest jacket on, expecting it might get a little cooler.

It was fucking snowing when I walked out the door at 9. A blinding, driving snow that started to affect my car's performance (being I've been having issues with the distributor not throwing spark when it's cold and/or wet). And it was bitch cold too. So today, when I went out, I had moved to my winter coat, which, due to the fact I am a lazy bastard, had not quite made it to being packed away for the winter.

So this morning, I went to clearing out my computer to eliminate every other possible problem, then reinstalled the software. As well, I started setting my other desktop up as a backup. So I have the first computer up, but haven't confirmed the problem yet, when I get a request to clock in early, about an hour before my shift. At this point, I had not yet finished the rest of the install, confirmed it was working or failed, gotten dressed, and still had to run the kids to the babysitter (25 minute round trip).

So I got that done, confirmed the software wouldn't work, got the second computer up, and raced out the door. 25 minutes later, I arrived home to confirm that the second computer was having the same issue. And even better, another tech is having the same phone software issue. Which eliminates it being a computer ,router, or my Internet service provider ass an issue. It could be Windows XP, so I turn to my laptop (running Windows 7) and try to get the VPN (virtual private network) and phone software up. Nope, can't even get the VPN working (I probably made an install mistake, to be honest), which means another compatibility issue. At this point, it's my normal clock-in time, and I've been clocked in for 15 minutes battling the shit. So, realizing that it won't work any time soon, I abandon ship like a motherfucker, haul ass for work (a 20 minute drive ideally). However, I pulled out at the time Crown (local factory) and the government schools are letting out. And due to the fact that I had to drive an extra 20 miles, 'm low on gas. How low? My tank holds about 12 gallons. I put 12.006 gallons in it today before leaving New Bremen. Fumes, baby.

And don't get me started on the fact that this means I don't eat the supper I had planned to eat two days in a row. The best I could do was a few slices of roast beef (which I found cheap enough for my budget, finally).

So I finally get to work, get logged in and start grabbing calls. But the clusterfuck has not ended. My laptop is not connecting wireless now. So I begin the process of uninstalling the VPN software I installed initially. Windows flashes the Blue Screen of Death and reboots. Eventually, I end up running system Restore to take out the junk. I get those programs cleared out, but now the computer is still not connecting wireless. And I don't have the chance until I bed the younglings tonight to try it wired.

And yes, you're supposed to chastise me for not being able to solve an internet connection issue (as that is my job). In this case, it would be a situation where I'd be giving the customer the boot because we don't fix a driver issue (and that's where I think the problem is. I just don't have access to my Windows 7 disk to try to fix it. Not that I'm in a hurry to be free of cords, because it's too cold to be outside.

Now maybe I'll get lucky this weekend and it will get as warm as they say, because I have ice on my balls....

...so then I turned on C-Span.

2010-03-20T20:15:00.000-04:00

I've been shoving the kids outside the past week as the temperatures got up to the 60's. And as my daughter would be getting a bike for her birthday, she got it over a week early so she could enjoy it while the weather was good and I had days off. The best part was that it meant I could break out the shorts (which I am wearing) and open the windows (noting the salubrious effects of fresh air).

And while I lost an hour of sleep last week and had a morning this week where I woke up late (giving me 15 minutes to take two kids from sleep to the bus (and in which I succeeded)), the effects of more daylight are starting to wake up what is an increasingly creaky body. Now if the sunlight would do something about my tooth mess, it would be wonderful.

I know I have at least 3 cavities remaining. I also have my remaining wisdom tooth, which is in need of prying out, because there's less than half that tooth remaining. And for some reason, after getting the worst cavity filled, it triggered several teeth into hypersensitivity to hot and cold. And since this encompasses everything I eat and drink, I've been hitting the Orajel hard. Actually, it's funny to watch me suffer, I'm sure. Of course, if you do so while I'm in agony, I'm going to punch you.

But this is the second weekend in a row I have to work (with the following two being work free). So I got to unload the kids to the Succubus, then proceed after work to do some birthday/Easter/general shopping. I still have the birthday shopping to finish.

But I did get another game which will suck many hours out of the night, Fallout 3. Strangely, I have the original incarnation of the game, with install for Windows 95/DOS (which Windows 7 really doesn't like). Not the oldest game I have, nor the oldest game of which I have a modern incarnation (that would be the Ghostbusters game from the prior blog), nor even the oldest game in my pc game collection (I have some old AD&D computer games circa 1988), or even that download of Wasteland (which occupied many an afternoon with my buddy and now fellow blogger Lars in front of his old Commodore 64 and gave us the immortal line of "the force stopped you, you hozer"), which was a precursor of the world of Fallout.

My daylight hours however are engaged in following the final days and hours of the debate (note: if you want to talk about the substance or politics, hop over to my political blog) by watching debate on C-Span. And the night will belong to a good ending in Washington (Fallout 3 is set in post-nuclear DC).

But in no way will I be messing with anything involving college basketball. Fuck the NCAA tournament, fuck all 64 team, fuck the whole boring-ass sport, as it sucks ass. It's more boring than a 2-hour air-masturbation session: no contact, no nakedness, no arching ropes of jism or soiled anything. It is among the list of sports I participated in when I was a kid, but even in the ranks of the Catholic school, I was the worst of players. Of course, considering I never really found a sport I was good at (soccer was banned in my day, due to the potential interference it could cause the sacred sport of football), I'm not really a fanatical sports fan anyway. But I can watch some sports and not be bored to tears instantly. And I've followed most major sports at some time. But basketball, never. And that's despite the fact that the only ball I could produce from my inventory to play a game would happen to be a basketball, which I got back in my RadioShack days and bears the logo of the IBM Aptiva. Yeah, the ball is a decade old but doesn't show the wear of a decade, as it hasn't gotten much use.

Ok, I've got 45 minuted of work left. My sleep is messed up because I woke up at 11:30 this morning. And the wastes await for an intrepid me to explore (maybe after a little manual self-exploration).

And on C-Span, the politicians drone on....

...I could stream porn to it.

2010-03-10T19:36:00.000-05:00

One of my ideas to save money in the long run was to get rid of cable. Since I moved from home way over a decade ago, I've been addicted to the ability to watch shit you can't get on the idiotic bad three networks.

However, that was in the days when your choices were limited to either an antenna, a cable, or a satellite dish (either the newfangled 2 foot ones or those giant 16-foot motherfuckers), or to go down to the video store and pick up a videotape.

Not so now, considering more and more content is streaming online. I've been able to watch a season's worth of shows, and in one case (Veronica Mars), I only saw the show online (and was crushed to find out there were only three seasons) because it was long gone prior to my even hearing about it (from Kevin Smith, who shows up as (what else?) a clerk in season two (which proves I'm so his bitch (and might be willing to take a shot in the mouth if asked))). So I've been looking and researching it for a while. It was one of the motivations for upgrading my TV this year (the other being that my old TV was ancient to begin with).

My original plan had been to hook a computer to that TV to stream shows and movies, as well as gaming. But since I have this laptop, I have lots of portability already. And the kids have their computer, and my original desktop (now almost exclusively my work computer) is still humming along. However, the latter two are not up to the task of streaming video. In addition, gaming on the PC is relatively expensive, because gaming computers are expensive, games hold their prices longer, and once you buy a game, you have it forever (I have games that run in DOS still!!!). I also had a PS2, which I used for some gaming, but there are few new games coming out, my old games were starting to show some age, and the system itself was wearing down (it had the misfortune of being purchased and abused during the Succubus era), and it was becoming a less-used system.

Enter the PS3. In addition to the gaming and the ability to play DVD and BluRay discs, it can also stream media from my laptop (it found it almost immediately), it can browse the Internet (not as well as a PC, but I can watch Youtube), it could do something with Netflix (again, part of getting rid of cable), and I can download and play demos, games, movies, etc directly to the PS3 (although this costs money in most cases). And it's all up to date. And as a bonus, the PS2, and all games, and all accessories, got traded for the new games.

And as a double bonus, if I download porn to my laptop, I can stream it to the big screen (which means parts at actual (but probably seriously pixellated) size).

To give you the game list, I picked up Lego Indiana Jones, as the kids liked Lego Star Wars, and I wanted to have a light title to play; Ghostbusters: The Video Game, which kicked ass despite being short, because it featured the same writers and talent from the movies (Akroyd, Ramis, Murray, and others), and because it had to be better than my last Ghostbusters game experience (it was a shit game I played on an Apple II clone), and Brutal Legend, which is like running, driving, and fighting through the cover of every heavy metal album you've ever seen (starring Jack Black (the main character), Ozzy (as the Guardian of Metal), Lemmy Kilmister (the Kill Master, who heals with a bass guitar), and more) to a soundtrack loaded with a shitload of excellent metal.

So hopefully, I'll get everything in place shortly so that I can cut the cable. Because I've found I tend to spend a lot of time in front of the TV wasting time on crap shows. I'd rather enjoy watching movies and shows that I really want to see than doing the channel flipping and planning around broadcast times. Especially since so many damned channels have to have pseudo-reality shows on them that suck a dick. Wait, correction, that's insulting cocksuckers.

But such is the result of my fascination with media as an escape from the mundane (and a chance to see the sex I'm not getting). Although that fascination is making me feel really old. Because the latest child star in the body bag is Cory Haim. I grew up the same time as this bastard, watching him growing up on screen. A point of fact, he only had 2 years on me (he was 38). I'm used to really old people dying. That's relaitvely easy. But when more and more people your age and younger start snuffing it, you start feeling OLD. Can't wait until I'm over 70, and the people my age start dropping faster than my libido after a marathon gaming session (also a rare thing due to kids, work, sleep, etc (and by etc, I mean masturbation)).

Of course, with the turn of the weather (it got above 60 today), I'm probably going to be spending more time outside and away from the TV....

...not sure if this actually belongs on the political blog.

2010-03-01T16:08:00.000-05:00

As you all know, I have both this blog and a political blog. On this one, on the right, I have a cute little Digsby app that lets people talk to me when I am online. On SPD, I have sitemeter. And I noticed that someone was dwelling on the personal blog for hours today.

The digsby app happens to list the IP address, in this case, 199.200.253.9. I looked it up. it belongs to the U.S. Department of Labor/Employment Standards Administration. Go ahead and look it up yourself. Now other than a fan of mine working there, I can't see any reason someone in the government would be checking out my discussion of the future of my kids, or my masturbatory preferences, or any of the weird shit I talk about. So I said hi, ID'd where they were browsing from, taunted them a little in my friendly way. No response, although they logged off shortly thereafter.

So I popped open sitemeter, and found this entry from today. Yep. Same person, most lkely, this time on the political blog.

A couple notes I gathered. They were looking at today's AOTW post, where I hammer Sen Bunnings and decry that we are becoming too dependent on the federal government. The computer is running Windows XP. The poor bastard is forced to use IE6, which generates a shame banner on the page suggesting that the user get a browser made in the 21st century. And hopefully they do, because they clicked to my tech post on this site.

Not that it's groundbreaking, just interesting.

And I hope I can figure out who the person was....

...then it wouldn't turn over at all.

2010-02-28T19:57:00.000-05:00

The wearying thing about the weekly snowstorms is that it makes the outside way to inhospitable.

Unfortunately, my children are at an age where they are big enough to run around and cause fun and righteous chaos, but are still small enough that I can't set them loose outside in the middle of winter to freeze their asses off a while without going out to shatter my nipples with them. And just when the weather is conducive to going out (sunny-ish, above freezing) I either have to work, or they are off to their mother's for the weekend.

But I did get out on Saturday, due to running out of coffee. And there, in the coffee shop, with my laptop sitting at home and only a pad of paper and a lot of coffee in my veins, two things occurred to me. The first, a writing project, is kind of in the beginning stages, so I'm not going to share much on it yet, other than it's something that is more oriented toward the political than the fictional, where most of my pre-blogging days were invested. As with many projcets in the infant stages, it may come to nothing. So that's why I'll lean toward a more silent approach for now.

The second was a revelation of my future. They were having a dress up party for little girls there. Little girls around my daughter's age. And I have a daughter that's into the dress-up. In fact, a few of the days in the last week or two, she started pulling stuff out of her closet, and was demanding some nail-painting fun. The sad part is that I was checking out all the mothers coming in. They were all married, of course. Every one I checked. And one guy. Probably married, but I wasn't checking out guys, especially not in a tiny village such as this.

But other than that foray, I had the pleasure of spending lots of quality time at home alone by myself. Most of it was not spent getting to know myself better, though.

But one flaw in the plan was that I didn't get out to get cheese. So I meander out to the car with time to spare, only to run into a mess. First, I went to start it, it caught, and I accidentally let it die. Then it was turning over fine, but wouldn't catch and start. Now I have been having a problem in extreme humidity or cold with it starting, so I got out and tried prodding the engine to see if I could find the problem (which has annoyed me a couple winters so far). THEN the bastard wouldn't even turn over. I could hear a clicking, but not a single crank of the engine. I poked and prodded wires to no avail. Finally, Ithrew a heater on it in the hopes that would rescue it and went in to work.

A couple hours later, my dad called back (as I had called him because I would need the car later if I was to pick up my children) and suggested throwing the car on a charger. So I threw the charger on. But I had already made calls to arrange someone else (their mother, who I managed to get hold of) to get the kids home. Finally, on my break, I went out to give it a last try. Of course it roared to life far too late. But at least I have the opportunity to stay at home and have their mother bring my children home. Yay.

Tomorrow, I get to go check on what could have gone wrong. Maybe I'll be lucky and it'll just be a battery. Then I get to drive to work, due to some issues with a caller. I'll spare you the details and my cursing of the whole bastard situation until I have something to report.

I've got another hour left now to be on the clock, so maybe I can't have anything else go wrong....

...after I finally shoveled off the front porch.

2010-02-19T08:37:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had too much of a good thing? In this case, that thing has been the company of my kids.

It's been two weeks since I've gotten the younglings off to school. Since then, I've not had a waking hour, except for work and sleep, that the kids haven't been crawling over the top of me. Add to that the fact that the snow is still piled up (although someone else has been running the snow blower up the sidewalk) and I've had to shovel a few drifts out of the way to get the car out in the first place, and it's meant I've been mostly at home tucked in for the winter.

Of course, I've also shifted from my nice first-shift spot back to the second shift (where my off times happen to be the kids' bedtime (and that's before I go to pick them up), which sucks. In the end it worked out though, as the daycare was having issues reigning in the Autism Express, which doesn't help his sister who was perfectly fine as always. Luckily I was able to get back to the prior sitter which necessitates a drive almost as long as going to work, so that problem has been beat. And I'm still working from home, as I can use my break to make shit like pork chops or clean something rather than have to find something to do other than buy overpriced candy from a vending machine.

And it really came in handy Wednesday of last week, as I parked my car out front so as to not get snowed in. Unfortunately, the car wouldn't start. So I did what any desperate person would do: I hauled a TV and DVD player into the kids' bedroom, set them to watching movies, and went to my bedroom to work. I fed them lunch during my break, eyeballed them after calls, and somehow managed to make it through a shift without having to cut off a caller while I beat a child.

Then I managed to put a hole in a tire on Friday. I noticed it after I dropped the kids off. I didn't get to fixing it until after I got off at 3. An hour later, after an easy lug nut removal, I found myself failing to have anything big enough to knock the wheel off the car (it was rust-welded as usual). So after a can of fix-a-flat, I limped to pick up the kids (with the tire still leaking), then out to the tire place to get a couple new tires (I had another that was a slow leaker that I had patched with the can of stuff the prior month). So now, after the worst of the snow, I have tires that will dig through the snow better. Shit.

Of course, the reluctance to get out or get online bit me in the ass again on Tuesday. I've been less and less online in the past two weeks, and didn't even try at all on Tuesday, until later in the evening. The Internet was running unusually slow, so I did what any tech would do. I power cycled equipment. Then the screen popped up that there was an issue with my modem as I had either, added a new modem, or didn't pay my bill. Despite having the cash, I didn't get the bill paid of course. So I had to make a run to do that (my ISP doesn't have an online bill pay, the bastards). I will say that they did get me online in time to work at home, so I'm not bitching. I did pay next month early, though.

So now, after less than a half hour of NO KIDS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, I might actually get something done....

...a great weekend that thoroughly sucked.

2010-02-08T11:32:00.000-05:00

The snow started falling on Friday before my kids got home. I had been listening to the news stories about how much snow was going to bury us, and it was certainly a cause for concern. But I figured that I could get some stuff done, drop the kids to their mother around , and be buried ass deep in snow and not give a shit all weekend.

This coincided, of course, with my tax refund. In other words, I got money with which I could purchase those things I was in need of and had no money for prior. But first, I killed a few of my bills (I do have some sense).

Then I got the kids off the bus, cleared out the few things that needed done at home (except the mess of cleaning), and we went to pick up some necessities and a few treats.

(note: If you get a chunk of cash, it is best to set a small portion aside to spend freely, just so you can budget the rest sensibly. Otherwise, you're bound to do something really stupid.)

We went to lunch around 1, and the snow was already coming down steady. We took a glance through the toy store (where their attention span cost me nothing but their bladders became an issue). We moved on from New Bremen to St Marys (about 10 miles) so I could get new pants (my remaining pairs of jeans were sprouting holes and unraveling) and cream (dollar stuff (at Bath and Body Works!) for the daughter, and the foot cream for me (necessity when you can stick quarters in the foot cracks).

Then came decision time. It was about 3. The roads were starting to get crappy. And the nearest Wal-Mart (a necessity on a shopping trip for us) was in Celina (10 miles more). I got on the 4-lane with trepidation, ready to turn around at a moment's notice. However, the road was clean (enough), and on we sojourned. One thing I was checking out was bunk beds.

My son was sleeping on an ancient mattress and bed that I had inherited from my grandmother (and he was probably conceived on this bed as well) with holes and poking springs. My daughter was still in a toddler bed that I had been forced to replace hardware on, as well as bend straight, and a mattress that was split in the middle on one side. And they are both in one room with little room to maneuver. So the priority was to get them new beds. Since my car is too small to carry the beds (1997 Toyota Corolla) I was mainly going to get pricing and pick up some other things. For example, I have a Tinkerbell addict that didn't have a comforter for her new bed if I got the bed, so she got that. We looked at bicycles for her fast-approaching fourth birthday. Didn't buy, but I know what I will be buying. Got them a new (cheap) CD player, because my old one was giving out and they have a few CDs they like to play with (and even listen to). And we picked up a new booster seat, finally retiring a baby car seat that was becoming hard to fit her into.

I also got a chance to peep out the LCD TVs (my main 27" TV (also inherited) has been going strong for over a decade, but is showing its age), although the best price they had on a 32" was $339 or so. Luckily, I had checked out the local Alco store (tiny small-town Wal-Mart equivalent) earlier, and they had one for $299 with an extra $20 gift card. And this was in New Bremen, where I would be relatively soon, without kids. So after crawling through the Wal-Mart, and the time flying by (4:30 by the time we were heading for checkout), we were in the car, new car seat installed, and on the way back to St Marys to drop the kids to the "tender embrace" of the Succubus.

By now, the roads were becoming shit. But I got them to their mother for the weekend nonetheless. And there, I discovered two pieces of joyously entertaining news. First, she was getting a new job (can you say child support?). And second, she was having tax issues. Apparently (although she was asking if I claimed the boy (who she gets to claim as dependent per the custody agreement)), someone was trying to claim a child for the EIC that she wasn't allowed to (EIC applies to where the child lives, not deduction staus). Of course, I didn't share that tidbit with her because I already had my money and didn't want a fight. So with those joyous tidbits, I began the final drive back to New Bremen. To finish this story, when her boyfriend dropped the kids on Sunday, he shared that she had apparently fought going to her job orientation (a reason I labelled her the Succubus). So who knows what will happen with the child support (maybe later, I'll have child support hunt her down hard).

Even with the fact that I had to crawl rather than race, I made it back to town, hit the Alco, grabbed that TV, and crawled home to hook it up.

Now here's where things get messy, because my cleaning tends to be sporadic and incomplete (as in I get it mostly done, then stop). When I got home, I unloaded and set aside everything else before I got that TV moving. I even had the energy to go and shovel snow so I wouldn't have as much to do after work on Saturday. Now, if you have a home theater system or a desktop computer, you understand the next part. The advantage of changing TVs was weight. This meant that I got to pull out and rebuild my entire home theater setup, consisting of TV, DVD, VCR, PS2, and the home theater receiver that links everything and makes an explosion sound like a big-assed explosion. Let's just say that after wiring the 6 speakers, and connecting every component (a total of 15 individual audio and video cables) as well as powering them all, there was a large mess behind the entertainment center. But to my joy, in setting up the TV, I added a slew of digital and music-only channels to my roughly 80 analog cable channels. This meant the Super Bowl in digital quality and surround sound!

So after a long night (bed at 3) of dicking with the TV and looking at clips of movies for the picture quality that component video brings (the original motivation to upgrade the TV), Saturday came in a haze induced by a long night and by trying to watch the cool shit in the background of movies rather than the movies themselves (100,000 orcs standing outside Minas Tirith looking pissed, Coruscant from orbit when the Jedi starfighters aren't dominating the screen, the color pallet of the musical scene in Clerks 2 (I'm such a Kevin Smith fag)). Remember that labor-saving shovel job? Drifting. For those readers in a climate where snow is rare, this is where the wind wipes out all your work. Shit. I managed to cut the sidewalk out, but the driveway was too much, and I threw in the towel and called the landlord to get me dug out (Sunday). But I had a new home theater to watch. For the record, the first move I watched on the new system (which still required some tweaks) was Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which I had just picked up cheap (it's still the weakest of the movies so far).

So Sunday came, another great day of working at home (great because I was still snowed in, and I didn't care). While working, my sister dropped onto messenger, letting me know about a sale of bunk beds at K-Mart. The price was better than Wal-Mart, and they had the matching mattresses for $40. The decision was made before the kids came home. My daughter was instantly excited to get a new bed. The boy, not so much. So we set off about 5 to get the beds. So we headed to St Marys. First, we had to grab a truck. Now if you drive a small car, and you get into a big truck, it takes some learning curve, especially on patches of snow and ice. However, as I had driven a much shittier pickup back in college, it was a short curve despite 15 years of rustiness. So we shot through town, hit the K-mart, where I waited for the helpful but confused drones to find the requisite bed and mattresses. And I sent those preschoolers off to the nearby food aisle to acquire Cheese-its, at which my daughter was successful without any help from me (although she did ask someone). Alas, they found one opened mattress only. However, I got that for a discount, and could temporarily use that one rotting mattress, so we loaded the truck, headed back to New Bremen, dropped that off, and headed back to St Marys for the car. We got to the car around 6:30, also known as kickoff time for the Super Bowl. Being the lazy and cheap bastard that I am, we hit the Taco Bell for 49 cent tacos before heading home (with the game on old tyme AM radio).

Finally, at nearly 7, we got home, and I got to enjoy the digital picture and sound of the game as I sucked down that taco-y goodness. So by 7:30, we were ready to build a bed, shooting to finish before their bedtime at 9 for school.

Yeah, like it was that easy.

I did have the power of a drill (which beats hand screwing all 100 or so bolts and screws in), but even with that, and with the help/hindrance of excited preschoolers, I was tightening the final screws at 9:45. But by 10, I had a boy in the bottom bunk, a girl in the top, and my living room was a fucking mess (and still is). And the game was over, of course (although I really didn't care at that point), because I wasn't done. I had gotten some burger out to make taco meat (for food while I enjoyed the game. That was at room temperature and needed cooked, fast. And in the day's scramble, I had neglected to get bread, which is necessary for making sandwiches for the kids the next day. So being the handy son of a bitch I am, I got the burger, along with onions and bell pepper (chopped and bagged for easy use) cooking, then set off to make some bread. The problem with making bread, though, is time. I pulled the loaf around 12:30, sliced an end to savor the fresh-baked goodness, then hit the sack.

Monday arrived with bitter cold. I rolled everyone out because I had to be at work by 9, and due to training, I had to drive in rather than work at home. This negated the advantage in sleep I gained since preschool was canceled this morning due to weather. So with another scramble, and some uncooperative attitude from the boy in the bottom bunk (he still has bed pissing issues, not this morning, but it's the reason he got the bottom bunk ), I got everybody showered, fed, and out the door. Which leads me to a cubicle and the end of a long, fun, and shitty weekend.

And they're forecasting more snow for tomorrow....

...then comes the next shit sandwich.

2010-02-03T11:52:00.000-05:00

Darkness and death and pain and misery and suffering and loneliness and bitterness and hate have come to my world again.

Of course, this is a tradition thing. I celebrate the approach of the ever-hated Day of Darkness (Feb 14, also referred to as V-day) by glorying in all things miserable. I ban all filthy lies about love in music, all movies that try to deceive us, all affectations and symbols of the evilness. Even when they put the candy on sale after the celebration of hate, I let it rot (and I buy post-season candy like a bastard). Because I realized a long time ago, after years of having my heart shat on, that the day is a lie. And if you're a silly son of a bitch like I was and you invest any hope in anything happy coming from the day, then you're looking for fate's proverbial nutshot.

So while I may generally lament the state of my love life (or lack thereof without porn mode), this is a celebration of having your still-beating heart ripped out and held in front of you until you die, cold and alone. Screaming and pain be with you! :)

One exception to the ban: Groundhog Day. True, the movie falls into the "romantic comedy" category and the day falls inside the veil of darkness, but as it is a movie about the day, and stars Cousin Bill (not an actual relation, but if you value comedy and share a last name, wouldn't you claim Bill Murray?) who's funnier than most all the rest of the world, it's an exception I definitely make. For years, I've scoured TV to find it playing on the day only to be disappointed. So I broke down and bought it last year. So I finish watching the movie last night, and with the end credits playing, I start to move down the dial and (no surprise) find it playing with maybe half an hour remaining. Craptastic.

But that's not the worst of the things that have bent me over and dared to use powdered glass as lube. The latest crisis is another work schedule change. In this case, it's a shift back to the second shift. You'd think that with the current economic mess, no one in their right mind would give up a relatively easy job. But there are two people leaving. And since I was last to move to first, I'm first to be booted back. Of course, since I moved to first, I swapped daycare (and my old provider was quitting). And my new (old) hours aren't ones that work with the new daycare, which is about a mile away (which eliminates gas and drive times and enables working at home). So now, I get to scramble for a provider in St Marys (because there's one here in Bremen I can afford, and they close at 6 (and I work until 8ish), because then I can justify driving back home. But if the only person I can find is in Wapakoneta (where the office is located), then I get to work at home only every other weekend. Shit.

And then there's my financial mess, which is something I won't talk about here. Suffice it to say that if a stupid mistake can be made, I'll make it. Somehow I always manage to squeak by, though. But we'll see.

On the plus, I do have the computer up with Windows 7, and sweet is the only word I need say....

...getting rid of the kids for the weekend.

2010-01-23T15:11:00.000-05:00

Strangely, unlike my preferred method for these posts (start typing whatever comes, post it as is), I actually started it yesterday. But then the phones got busy until I got off work. Then I got busy, due to those kids, and some driving and some time in Wal-Mart (a pound of turkey lunchmeat for $3? Can't beat it), then some time playing with software, then configuring my recording system (both an old analog 4-track and a computer). Then I got down to the business of actually recording a song. More on that in a bit. But all of this is due to getting rid of the kids.

Thankfully, every other weekend I get the opportunity to have a weekend free of dealing with children during every waking second they're not at preschool or I'm not at work. This is because their mother, the ever-"beloved" Succubus, is currently stable enough to watch them (which says a lot about why it was relatively easy to get full custody). Now while I love my children and it is a joy to watch them learn, grow, and discover, they are also demanding little shits who are masters in the art of time suckage. Thus, as a single parent, I value any time I have that doesn't revolve around dealing with them, as there's no guarantees how long it will last.

Plus, there's cleaning up the inevitable disaster that results of a lazy dad, 2 kids, and weather that keeps them inside for hours.

But none of that deterred me from getting the rust off my fret fingers and trying to record something. So here's the process I've done so far (and remember, I have to learn how to do it as I go):

Create a basic drum track for timing only.
Record a guide track (vocal and guitar) with the basic layout of verse and measure)
Record the voice track (2 in this case, as I flubbed a few spots)
Record the acoustic guitar track (as the song is driven by it).
Record a harmony track (may or may not use, but I wanted something to play with).
I had a couple of acoustic tracks I recorded too, but I deleted them accidentally.

Then Star Wars the Clone Wars came on and I got all lazy-like.

So let me see what's left to do:

Record the bass line (which I need to flesh out first).
Record some more acoustic guitar where there are mistakes to fix.
Record vocals to fix any other issues.
Record some electric guitar to give it some articulation (because I'm a notorious strummer, and a 12-string puts out a wall of sound)
AND THEN....
Blend the tracks, reducing noise levels, adding effects to make it sound like I'm not in my living room, patching where there are gaffes, balancing the sound levels to optimal.

And that doesn't include sending it off to add a separate drum track (because otherwise I have to use a free drum machine program that, while better than nothing, is still a soulless drum machine.

I do have an eye on improving my recording equipment. Right now, it consists of an old computer (about the minimum to run XP decently), a RadioShack mixer board (which gives me more control than trying to patch together a bunch of adapters, and my Shure microphone I've had since high school. Seriously, it's about the only thing that qualifies a professional in my arsenal of equipment. This is mainly because I got all my shit back in the days before I could hop online, order it, and have it delivered all without having to associate with people, many of whom suck ass.

Maybe if I get the sound right, I'll share my equipment, most of which was purchased used at what was bargain basement prices in a small-assed town (and at stores still living pretty much in the 20th century). But my baby (my first guitar) came from there, as well as my 12-string (a birthday gift, actually), I can't knock them. But as that's a 20-minute drive and 10 out of my way in most cases, it's rare I get over there. Thus, I shop online.

Naturally, none of this would be possible were there rugrats bouncing off the walls. But since I have another day without them around, I'm going to use it. I do have to attend a family dinner tonight, but I can come home to a ready system, no kids, and a few more hours of recording time. Assuming everything else goes well. Although that means I fail at cleaning (because I don't get up until I have to (not as fun when you have to work in the mornings (I like sleeping until lunch)).

And who knows, maybe I'll get the motivation to post some of the music once I get it sounding more professional than I am....

...a new tech post for a new blog, entitled The Winter I Fixed the Internet.

2010-01-20T12:39:00.000-05:00

The reason I started this blog, separate from the chaos and fun of SPD, was so I could do any topic, subject, or idea that didn't fit into the mold of politics, history, religion, philosophy, and all the things that piss people off.

And since it's been 6 months since I last did a tech post (last was A Midsummer Night's Reboot), I figgered it was about time I take a 3-day stretch with no tech support work and inject some tech blogging into the middle of it. Then I might fire up my work computer and look at the email. Or just browse for porn.

But since I have a penchant for coming up with interesting names for these posts:

The Winter I Fixed the Internet

First of all, disclaimer time:

Any programs or techniques listed here are given with no guarantee or warranty, as individual computers can react differently to the same program. You assume all risk to your system should a newly installed program fuck everything up. Been there, done that myself. So be sure to back up your information before installing any new programs. And every program you install, by the way, will say the same thing in that legalese you usually skip.

As I've been doing tech support for 2 1/2 years now (and having started working with computers when I was about 8 (an Apple II plus!) I think I've got the experience), I know enough to know that disclaimers are necessary. Why? Because I've managed to crash almost every computer I've ever worked with at some point by installing something (this one included, because Windows 7 (release candidate) and Avira antivirus didn't like each other, which meant at least 2 full reinstalls before I fixed it). So as Window 7 is now the hot new OS (Fuck off, Apple, the commercial where you're mocking Microsoft's failed promises to deliver a good OS falls on deaf ears. Finally.) and the weaknesses of Internet Explorer 6 are made plain (checking SPD's sitemeter, no one is running that POS browser), I thought it time to update and share my picks.

One note: Most of my links will be to the site Download.com. I do so because I've never gotten an infected or dangerous program from the site (note, I don't include buggy or crappy). So if you're looking for any free programs, it's a good place to start. Just do a little homework and read everything first.

So let's dedicate this primarily to the new Windows 7 users out there, although this applies to any new computers (even you Mac people who may have to search a little harder).

First of all, let's talk security software. There are two antiviruses that I use on my computer. AVG is my choice for Windows 7 right now, as it's what sits below on my system tray. A second option (the one that fried this computer to be specific) is Avira AntiVir. As 7 wasn't out yet, I' hope they've fixed the issue I had, although I see they don't list 7 as a compatible OS.

With the proliferation of routers and the improvements of the firewalls in Windows 7, I'm not as panicked about adding a software one for Windows 7. For XP people (and that's a lot of you), I'll offer Zone Alarm for your consideration. One caution with firewalls: they are designed to block stuff. And that includes any program that connects to the Internet. So if you install it, pay attention to the popups, or you're bound to have to uninstall something.

For spyware, two programs I like would be Spybot Search and Destroy and Malwarbytes Anti-Malware. Spybot can run a resident program to kill spyware if you want, and Malwarebytes is good at killing stuff and easier to use.

Now, let's address the curse of the browsing world, Internet Explorer. As I said above, one motivation for this post is the outdated IE6. And while Vista came with IE 7 and Windows 7 came with IE8, you're a damned fool to rely on the ever-compromised Windows operating system (and yes some of you are, because I checked). I also saw that a couple people are using Safari (although that was a Mac user) and Opera (making you geekier than I myself). But rivaling Idiot Exploder on use is the venerated Mozilla Firefox. Very simply, it's stable, customizable, and my first recommendation to anyone trying to pry their computer out of the all-encompassing grasp of Gates. But right now, I'm not using Firefox. I'm trying out Google Chrome as my everyday browser. I made the switch for a simple reason. All my computers are short on memory, and Chrome sucks less than Firefox. However, I'm not giving up on Firefox yet, because I found a known issue in Chrome, which meant I had to pull up Firefox to fix the layout of the SPD blog (Chrome won't let me change the layout). So here's what I suggest: have two browsers available at your fingertips. And yes, IE could be your backup.

For messaging, I've been running Digsby for a while now, as it handles Hotmail, Yahoo mail, and Gmail, as well as giving me that shiny widget you'll find in the sidebar (more on that later). Despite it's continued beta status (Google keeps its shit beta for years after it's ready to release), it's been steady, stable, and not had issues interacting with other messengers. But my first multi-IM messenger is back with Trillian Astra. I downloaded this when I started work-at-home because Digsby doesn't have an IRC client (which I needed for my tech chat) and I still ran the older Trillian at work for that reason. I'm going to look into it further, but I think they got it updated for the current messaging climate. And if they have a widget I can stick on the right....

Now, I'm not going to go through every piece of software that there is you should look at in gratuitous detail. But I will give you some one-line essentials:
Advanced System Care - A nice all-in-one maintenance program
Foxit Reader - The antithesis of Adobe reader. Small, clean, compact.
Open Office - The free equivalent of Microsoft Orifice.
Picasa - Google's picture managemet software, simple, clean.
Paint.net - The software I use to photoshop without buying Photoshop.
Revo Uninstaller - Because the Windows uninstaller sucks at cleaning up.

Now, let me cut and paste the timeless advice from last time (because my kids are hungry):

Keeping your computers cleaned up is your responsibility (not your kids'). So here's what I suggest:

1. Plan for regular maintenance - Your antivirus scans and updates regularly, and your firewall (if you have one) runs constantly. But spyware cleaners and disk utilities have to be run to be most effective. if you don't know that all these are scanning, plan a day that you do the scans (and you can do other things while the computer works).

2. Don't download shit - One person with their head not inserted in their ass should be in charge of managing all the program downloads to a computer. This includes keeping off programs that suck resources, as well as those that just bloat the system (Dell is notorious for sending computers full of deletable stuff). And cleaning out the stuff already installed can work wonders. If you look on your desktop, down by the time, and there are three messenger programs, Limewire (or anything P2P), and 3 or 4 utilities that are supposed to boost your productivity, start disabling or removing stuff. And don't even get me started on the evils of toolbars (some just suck, some are actually spyware). And if there's any doubt about how I feel, FairTax.org has one that will raise money for the FairTax. Don't download it. Send them cash instead.

3. Divide and Conquer - If you've got multiple people sharing one computer, set up separate user accounts. That way, you get two advantages. First, you don't have to search for your shit in a gazillion other files someone (younger) with Limewire just downloaded. Everyone customizes their own desktop to their preferences, and no one has to fight. And best of all, the ones that have the propensity to download junk can be denied administrator rights. This limits the amount of damage they can do. It's amazing what a 4-year-old can reprogram, I tell you.

4. Backup, Backup, Backup - I've got my documents emailed to me and floating online. I've found a way to turn my Gmail into storage. I've burned CDs with pictures, and I'm working on getting them downloaded online with Picasa. My taxes, which I do online, are backed up online, as well as with hard copy. This is all because I have lost things. Things that I can't get back. Long story short, you need a few layers of back up. You could spring for something like Carbonite, or the freer but limited Mozy as well. Just remember, digital can disappear really fast.

Now, about the Digsby widget. It's there if you want to talk to me about anything. And I might actually answer if I'm near the computer. So if you have a tech question, or just want to ramble in my general direction, have at me. Or email me if you're so inclined. I'm even nicer on email, because I don't have to feed my own ego in front of others. Although it's no guarantee I'll be timely in returning your message. I am one lazy bastard after all.

Finally, if nothing above gave you anything new, here's a game to settle the old Windows/Mac battle....

...then I swapped the wires.

2010-01-17T15:37:00.000-05:00

I had thought, at the time I took a break from blogging at the end of 2009, that I'd be fully recharged and ready to blog like a motherfucker. Not surprisingly, and unfortunately, I haven't found the energy to churn out quite the volume of bloggage I had intended. Partially this was because I tend to spend a lot of time curling up to stay warm when it gets nipple-hardening and ball-icing cold out. Also, the fact that I was getting worn out dealing with kids, getting them ready for school, then the babysitter, then getting them home after work. In fact most of my blogging occurs at work because at the preschool age, the kids are all about time suckage.

Add to that the controversy of SPD's AOTY post. I'll post more on the psychology at some point (I had planned to earlier this week, but...), but it was the fact that I was reminded that some people can't differentiate between friendly mockery and real hard-assed attack on principle. For me, there has always been a separation between arguing the politics of a situation and having fun at the expense of people (mostly myself (and mostly my little friend)). It's one reason I created this blog, so I could talk about my shit (and the shit that really bothered me) and leave the politics (and political bullshittery) to SPD. Sadly, I've become more a topic of conversation than the place for that conversation. And my best week for blog hits was the one with the fewest posts. Add to that the end of friendship over stupid shit, and it's unmotivating as fuck.

Thankfully, I've got my buddy Lars on board from the beautiful island nation of New Zealand (at least until he returns permanently to the States (as in be afraid, moterfuckers!!!)) to churn out a little SPD postage, which means I can miss a few days and not have an empty blog. And we're working on the possibility of a podcast to add (either here or SPD. or maybe a new place, depending on the content) as well as my desire to get some YouTube goodness starring me (as soon as I get a decent webcam (because even with good lighting my webcam sucks ass).

In addition, I've finally made a move that will give me an hour plus to my days when I do work. In addition to moving to a first shift schedule, I'm now (and currently as I write this) working at home. Since I already had the computer, and the internet, and since moving to first shift meant I could get child care in town rather that having to drive halfway to work anyway to get them babysat, it was a great opportunity to switch from going into an office to sitting in my home office/bedroom/library and being able to take calls naked.

Kidding on the naked part. I actually am dressed as though I was at work and at the office. Because about the time I don't my Internet or my computer will take a shit on me and I'll have to scramble, then determine I have to go into work. And considering there would be a 20-minute drive in the mix anyway, I don't want to have to add time to that.

Plus, it's all about psychology. Physically getting ready for work helps put me into that mindset, even though the minimum mechanics involve walking the 6 or so feet from my bed to my computer, turn it on, and start the programs I need for work.

And need I mention the benefits of eliminating the 40-mile round trip (and the price of gas), my Internet bill (I get reimbursed), and the miscellaneous costs of food (because I can get snackage from my kitchen which is cheaper).

And if it's a slow day, I'm at home rather than at work. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

No, I'm not going to slip a sock on my cock while on the clock. I'd probably end up with an hour-long hell call coming in while in mid spank and end up blueballed . Plus, who wants to answer the phone when they're coming?

But my work-at-home almost didn't happen yesterday. The reason? I had my headset wires swapped. Proof that even we tech heads can fuck up the wiring. This was even more frustrating than the software problem from the night before (which had me downloading fixes and updates and dicking with the Windows registry (which can lead to killing your computer if you fuck up)), because at least a software glitch doesn't prove I'm an idiot.

Of course, ironically, my biggest problem (especially in meeting women) is that I don't get out of my house enough....

...how I usually spend my holidays.

2010-01-04T00:17:00.000-05:00

Ever since got from the pit of despair that is retail (which meant shit hours and lots of them over the Christmas season), I've gotten the "pleasure" of working holiday hours. On the plus, it's double time and the call volume is usually lighter (as people aren't on the Internet as much). Christmas in particular involves lots of setting up computers. And people confusing the word "at" with the @ symbol

If you missed my mention of it before, I spent 7 hours of my Christmas and 4 hours of New Year's Day sitting at my desk doing the fun that is Internet technical support. Now I'm sure many of you have been on the (clueless idiot) caller end of a tech support call. Sometimes, you've even had to endure the fun of talking with someone on another continent reading from a script (fucking Dell?) for a handful of rice an hour or something. Some of you have had the luck of speaking with someone somewhere on this continent with the ability to whip out a sentence without a nearly unintelligible accent while fixing your shit (sometimes).

If you'd like, I found a vid that shows what we go through in dealing with people that are literally illiterate. Really. I've had calls where they have to spell all the words. An example:

Me: Click on start, control panel....
Illiterate Idiot trying to operate something that requires literacy: Where's the start button?
Me: Bottom left, it says start.
II :S-T-A-R-T?
Me: *pregnant pause* Yeeeeessss?
II: Ok, now where?
Me: Control Panel.
II: Which one is that?
Me: Should be in the right column, about in the middle.
II: Uh....
Me: ----
II: How do you spell that?

Me: (wishing I could say) D-U-M-B M-O-T-H-E-R-F-U-C-K-E-R.
Etc.

This is proof people are idiots. Especially when they call tech support. And it's not the computer illiteracy part. That's why I have a damned job. It's the inability to follow simple directions (they start with "click on..."), answer simple questions (What kind of router is it? Does it have a name on it? Can you read that name? Can you spell it?), read, or know your fucking NAME that makes it a shit job sometimes.

But I figger there have always been the technically challenged:

But overall, it's the kind of job i excel at: Trying to make shit work and translating tech into tardspeak. Plus, when it's quiet, I get to blog. Or watch Youtube clips. Or today's fun, which was following links from Youtube to read on copyright infringement and fair use.

Which, of course means that I've been investigating the possibility of getting some videos turned out to generate some traffic for me on SPD. Of course, my first videos will be here, where it's about me and not politics. Because I have to get my camera presence honed first. And I have to learn how to edit videos, because I'm not just going to turn on the camera and yammer for 10 minutes. No, I have to have production value and clickable links to the sites. But first, I have to get to bed, get the kids to school tomorrow (Yay, finally), and tackle my paper trail from hell.

Because if it's paper, I can't find a damned thing....

...a gray pube for the new year?

2009-12-31T23:56:00.001-05:00

I'll be kind enough not to elaborate on the title of this post, other than to comment that I spend enough time on the crapper to be inspired in such ways.

But really, it's a sign of advancing years. I'm not as old as most of my blogger buddies, many of whom are dealing with more health issues than I (I'm not dealing with shit other than my shitty teeth).

For me, it's more the realization that things don't work like they used to. This year in particular, I've found my body not wanting to do what I want it to, be it an inconsistent sleep cycle or jumping/bouncing over shit. And then there's my stiff neck, the easily stirred bitch headaches, and the general lethargy. I had to struggle like fuck (and take off my blanket) to get up long enough to get the computer fired up.

Needless to say, this means I barely get shit done.

I've been scrolling through the channels since 11 o'clock. The networks are running commercials. The cable news channels suck ass. I'm reduced to watching some motherfucker jump a river or something at midnight on ESPN to usher in the new year. And considering I usually only stop briefly if at all, I'm nearly at the bottom of things to do on this night. A couple more years, it's bedtime at 10 (if the boy stops pissing the bed).

I suppose it's inevitable that this happens to people. I figure there's a point at which everyone hits their prime. I'm past that already, unless I get something in the world that puts the fire back in me. It gets to the point that I don't check the blogs, or the email, or any of that shit. In fact, my Gmail has 17 messages, my Yahoo mail (which tracks comments on my blogs) has 31 messages (although I might not have deleted anything in over a week), and my Hotmail has 24, half of which are junk (and sadly, there are probably even more in the junk mail filter). Hell, this is the first time today I've even been on the messenger.

In the end, I'm going to probably go to bed the first hour of the new year, because it's not like I have anything else to do. Of course, even if I did, I'd be struggling to find someone to watch the kids so I could do something. Instead, I'm just going to post this and try to get it linked on Facebook while it's still 2009 (I have a couple minutes).

Fuck, I'm feeling old....

...getting back on track.

2009-12-29T01:18:00.001-05:00

One thing that the holiday season tends to do is yank my world off the tracks, and it's in reaching the next year that I get things all steady and shit.

Like my car insurance. I get a cancellation notice, plan to pay it, but it gets lost in the paperwork, and I get the cancellation paper on Saturday (Merry fucking Christmas). To fix it, the paper and the website say I have to call my agent. So I call my agent on the way their direction with the expectation that I have to stop in and sign papers. But no, I have to call the insurance company directly to fix it (which I could have probably done before venturing out onto the shitty roads with a high potential for accidents had I known. But I ironed it out, although I'm still a couple of bucks off (as the website posted a different amount than what they wanted and I paid that).

Then there's the bank. I go to the ATM before Christmas, pull out $20. And when I open the mail Monday at lunch, that $20 overdrew me by $2, which cost me $30. And my paycheck deposited the next day. So the overdraft was legit, EXCEPT that the ATM let me overdraw. And this at a time when money is tightest.

But oh well. I did get my living room and the kids' bedroom cleaned, and the paper and cardboard from Christmas taken out and recycled by fire. I tried to do the plastic too, but it was putting out too much smoke that the snowstorm wouldn't disguise it. Yes, I was burning shit in a snowstorm. But the kids were away, so it all worked out.

But the worst of it is that the weather is not cooperating for me to be at my peak. I run slow when it's cold.

On Christmas Eve, we had snow. It rained and melted all the snow away for Christmas day, replacing it with freezing rain (and I had to get up early to work, go to my family's (and eat bloody delicious prime rib and shrimp cocktail (YUM-fucking-O!!!!!!!!!1!!!!! !)), got a bitch headache and fall asleep, then go back to work (although double time makes it worth it). So I sat inside and relaxed the following sunny Saturday, only to have it snow like a bastard on Sunday. Then it gets cold and icy and drifty on Monday. Shit.

And then it's off to work, where the phones were ringing hard for the most part (one ISP we service has multiple problems and no one checking emails or answering phones (leaving us to stutter for pissed off customers)). And that's on top of the usual cavalcade of the fucking dum.

Here's a hint: When you call in to tech support, we don't expect you to know shit. It's job security for us for you to not know shit. We do expect literacy. The ability to follow directions like "click on this" or "type this." The ability to answer simple questions with some degree of accuracy, like "What lights are lit?". If it's technical, then we'll do our best to work with the problem. But if we have you type an email address in and instead of using the "@" symbol you type "dumbmotherfuckeratlalaland.net.com" then you should bathe with your computer. At worst, your computer will fry. At best, you reduce your impact on the gene pool.

To illustrate:

Scary thing is that I've had calls this bad in reality....

...tracking Santa and baking bread.

2009-12-24T17:24:00.000-05:00

I'll be honest here in the fact that I've been feeling lazy and run down, especially in the face of the impending Christmas holiday. It's why I've been lacking in my posts here and have gone mostly on hiatus on SPD until January 4 (with a new Asshat of the Week award to kick off the new year). Namely, it takes work to keep shit going. And I have been filled with more of a desire to hack and slash my way through the world of Dungeons and Dragons Online rather than sit up at night and blog.

I think this shit always happens as the winter cold settles in. Then, once January hits, I've been cold long enough that I get my fire going.

But this being Christmas eve, there's no time for fucking around.

I started this morning relatively (8 o'clock hour) late (as the kids didn't get up until after me (and they were due to open gifts this morning!!!)), having time to fill stockings as the kids struggled to come out to see what they had gotten for Christmas. It was such a lackadaisical response that I had time to get the NORAD Santa tracker (damn, I love the Internet) up before they tore into present one. Then I got them hosed down and shipped off with the Succubus, not to be picked up until I leave work on the way to Christmas lunch at my family's house tomorrow.

Of course, when I got to work, up went the Santa tracker (as I write this line, he's in Egypt). It's one of those quirky things that is only possible now due to the fact that we have assloads of information (and porn) at our fingertips. So I keep tracking him until I conk out tonight. Naked.

If Santa were real and liked man ass, I'd be a prime target, you know.

But before I take the rectal risk with the invasive nature of Mr Kringle, I must try something that I have never done and which requires a precision that my "throw shit into other shit (but not literal shit)' style of cooking is not known for. In fact, my baking experiences are generally mixed. I have cookies (chocolate chip and sugar) down well enough, but my pie baking experiences have been mixed (my apple came out somewhat ok, but pumpkin is beyond my ken). And I've never tacked anything as fussy as a yeast bread. And as I don't have a mixer with dough hooks (I might have a dough hook from a broken mixer though), or a bread maker, or even a decent mixer ($5 POS hand mixer), I face a daunting task. I don't even have a recipe figgered out yet. And I have under an hour to come up with one (before I get off work and go to the store for ingredients), only tonight to do the mixing proofing and baking, and no backup if I fuck the dog in the process.

Thankfully, my sister does have some crescent rolls she can chuck in the oven and bring tomorrow if chaos ensues.

So I will attempt the otherwise improbable tonight, to bring to the feast tomorrow.

And oh what a feast. I'm not sure of all the tasty shit that will be produced, but I know that the table will be graced with juicy, bloody, rare, delicious fucking prime fucking rib!!!

Now I don't get to eat beef (other than burger) all that often as I'm both broke and cheap. And of cuts of meat, prime rib is one of my favorites, as it is a big-assed piece of meat, cooked low and slow, sliced thick (I like it around the 2-inch mark), and served in juices galore. Add to that something potato (au gratin, from what I understand), probably shrimp scampi, something green, something sweet, a selection of adult beverages, and my bread (if I don't fuck it up), and there is no chance in hell I'd miss this.

And I get to eat all this after work. And before work. Of course, when you make double time for Christmas in exchange for sitting in a call center and getting people to connect shit to shit to watch people squeeze out and eat shit (a rare example of fetish porn that does disgust me), a split shift isn't so bad.

So I have to return to the daunting task of narrowing down on a bread recipe, maybe answer another call on Christmas eve (from some irrational fuck that will want their Internet to work NOW!), before I get off, go home, fuck up some bread, and watch A Christmas Story the first time it comes on. Because that's the only time I have to do so in the next 24 hours.

So let me get back to you when I get some Christmas pics....

...an illustration of the beginning of my day.

2009-12-16T08:42:00.000-05:00

This is a continuation of yesterday's post, because my body decided to up the ante (and up last night's supper). The great part is that I also have to go to work, and I seem to get worse as the day goes on. So here's how I started my day:

And this when I had a small window in which to get two kids out the door for preschool....

...undefined maladies and hemorrhoid cream.

2009-12-15T12:59:00.000-05:00

(Warning: if you know the specific orifice the aforementioned cream is used on, you can guess how shitty (pun intended) a post this will be before the end.)

I'm used to my bitch headaches. I get one every few weeks or so, and it makes the day suck. I even have another drug to try to see if it will kill them, although that need has yet to arise. What I can't stand are the undefined sicknesses that don't fall clearly into one category or another, but could be caused by any number of things.

Like my daughter's puke-a-thon the other night. It started that day with her not wanting to really eat, then complaining her tummy hurt. I managed to get her to eat some butter toast. That ended up coating my seat on the couch (more on the cleanup in a bit). She ended up getting down to the dry heaves, and ended passing out on the floor in her panties, wrapped in a blanket. No fever, no other symptom, just puke. The next day she was fine. On the plus, she's gotten the sour stomach before, so no worries.

And no trips to the emergency room to make up for a lack of parenting skill. That was where I had to go after work on Thanksgiving night, because the boy was puking and fevering, and was fine the next day, all thanks to the ministrations (or lack thereof) of the Succubus. But that was another post (that I failed to write).

So back to my couch, which is past threadbare. My ass cushion is particularly worn, and the fact that it absorbed prechool hurl deep was a bad thing. I tried scrubbing it. I tried spray odor eliminators (the cheap shit, not the Febreze brand). Sit on it and you smell vomit. Finally, I went with the old reliable of baking soda on it overnight. I think I bought the couch a little more time, because it's breathable again.

Unfortunately, the real challenge of being a single parent is being a sick single parent. Because, very simply, you can't just curl up and sleep. You can entertain your kids with tales of ass blood (although it's gallows humor when wiping is an issue). But you still have to manage the younglings while trying to curl up and die. On the down side, there was no puke involved. I say that it's the down side because if you puke it out, it gets out of your belly quickly. At least it gets out of there more quickly than the other end.

I'm not sure if it was food poisoning (I made chili. Good chili) or some light flu bug (which makes no sense because I don't have much human contact), but I'm still feeling the effects 24 hours later.

Needless to say, the progression from chunky soft serve ( the source of ass blood and screaming while wiping) to ass soup (which is still haunting me), aided by the cream (a necessity when you have as irregular movement-ravaged a sphincter as I), it ain't good. Then came the fevering, which caught me late in the afternoon, which challenged my ability to make supper. I even threw myself into a sick soak bath (which the kids enjoyed tormenting me during, constantly, necessitating the (wet) boot to the head) before almost passing out momentarily, then curling back up on the couch until the kids bedded, then sitting on the unpuked portion of the couch (the baking soda still doing its work) curled up until it was late enough to roll the boy out for the late night pee (it's either that or definitely change piss sheets in the morning).

And whatever it is, I can still hear the rumbling and gurgling in the intestinal tract. So I'm not over it by a long shot. But I'm hungry again (I wasn't last night), so I'm guessing I must be on the mend, just in time for a bacon deluxe burger. But until then, here's a clip that has little to do with any of the post other than the title "Asses of Fire" just captured yesterday's rectal agony.

Look on the bright side: At least I didn't write this post while on the crapper....

...failed miserably in the upkeep of the blog.

2009-12-07T16:02:00.000-05:00

Note: All pictures in this post are from the weekend after Thanksgiving, when we put up all the shiny decorations and I was too damned lazy to post them then. I finally downloaded them to the computer today, as I am so not a camera person.

I last posted on Thanksgiving or so. And now, we're already to December 7. I've taken in plenty of Christmas stuff already (Charlie Brown, The Santa Clause (1 and 2 (fucking Disney)), even the oldest movie version of A Christmas Carol (after watching the Muppet one on DVD)). And I've streamed a little Christmas music, including a little Messiah work (I have the score as well as the whole thing on CD and can sing a good portion of it).

As well, I finally got around to watching the classic Casablanca. It never really rated high on my priorities list because it was an old-assed movie. But I have spent more time checking out stuff on TCM, and I've been discovering lots of movies that I wouldn't have given a rats ass about a decade ago. Ask me about the songs in the Christmas playlist, and I'll be able to tell you, when we reach the Judy Garland version of "Have yourself A Merry Little Christmas," that the song comes from the movie Meet Me in St Louis, which has, perversely, been added to my list of holiday movies (and they're running it late night both times this month). Interesting side note, the movie includes in the cast, besides Judy Garland of course, June Lockhart, who appeared in the aforementioned Christmas Carol (uncredited), and is still acting today (I even remember the B5 ep she was in). Damned circular, my movie watching is...

But back to Casablanca. I can see why it makes the list of the best movies ever made. Even with its age, the dialogue still cracks along at what was back then a staggering pace, and today would be respectable of any good dialogue-driven movie. Too often, the old movies rely on cliche or dated conventions that are humorous in today's jaded pop culture. Not so here.

That, or I didn't have the energy after the Christmas decorations, on which we commenced on Saturday, continuing into Sunday to finish. I went with all white lights, some pearl beads, snow garland, and varying pearly, blue and purple balls this year. And I'm considering a silver and gold theme for next year. One thing I've learned is the value

Of course, the younglings were enthusiastic, but about as much trouble as they were help. I figure a few more years of training and severe beatings with flaming tinsel will whip their spindly asses into shape.

Yes, I'm a sadistic bastard. But then again, I have to do something to get the kids ready to walk six miles uphill both ways in blinding snowstorms (and global warming) (in September) to school. Maybe it'll make them motivated or something.

Other things of note while I was not posting shit. The Succubus has access to a computer (she sent me email concerning the kids). I have evidence that that's a bad thing.

There used to be a day when I could stay up to three AM and get up in the morning. Not anymore.

I really hate nights in winter because it's one of the rare times I freeze my ass off even with the heat cranked. Takes all the fun (and (picture-free) nakedness) out of kid-free weekends.

Except on Christmas, snow sucks.

On the computer front, I have a short in my power cord, right at the plug. If I didn't have it taped, I could see it spark. I can still hear it if I wiggle the cord. And it did short the laptop out temporarily today (would be a shit myself situation if I wasn't as good as I am). But seeing as though I'm typing this post on the laptop, the cord isn't too dead. Yet.

And as I'm both too broke and too cheap to replace it....

...how I spent Thanksgiving.

2009-11-26T17:25:00.000-05:00

First off, a little video clip to set the T-day mood. The whole Q&A can be seen here.

Actually, my family gathered for their Thanksgiving feast on Sunday. The food was good and the day was short, as I woke up when i was supposed to be there, got there an hour late, ate, and then left for work. Of course, considering it's one of those rough patches in family relations, it's for the best. So that left me the week to get things in order for the big Christmas decoration blitz. Yesterday I managed to get the kids' room and the living room clean (and even staked out the tree's position), and could probably knock out the dishes and the kitchen in short order had I the energy, motivation, or even gave a shit right now. But that was important because it set the stage for Thanksgiving day

I got the kids up, bathed, dressed, fed, and shipped off with the Succubus for the whole day. I then struggled briefly with my recording setup (the computer doesn't like the copious volume I produce with the 12-string and the voice) before making a run to the store to get a few things for a T-day meal with the kids on Saturday before going to work.

For eight hours. On double time (yay).

And I'm not even halfway through it as I type this. But I can tell you the rest of the day. I'll get a few easy-ass calls, and at least one person who should try surfing in the tub. With their computer. Fully connected and powered. Bastards. I'll also probably hit some blogs (which occurred when i paused in writing this post), maybe watch some TV, maybe break out the game. Then I'll pick the kids up, go home, bed them, then pass out.

And then go through my regular routine tomorrow.

But for Saturday, I have the aforementioned meal planned, as well as the assembly of the Christmas decorations, all to the accompaniment of either my Christmas CD collection (which moved to my car today) or the Christmas playlist, which should now be gracing the sidebar on the right (and the top of SPD as well). And all on Thanksgiving day, because I'm sitting in front of a computer.

So have a happy one while I go to heat up a TV dinner....

...how I burned up a Friday alone after work.

2009-11-21T02:44:00.000-05:00

My longest night free and clear of the kids started as it often does, in a trip to Wal-Mart for food and gas (the kind for cars specifically). So Out the door I go as the free pizza is coming in (shit). The problem is that as I perused the movie selection my night was shat on by blasphemy.

FUCKING TWILIGHT BULLSHIT!!!

There with all the better incarnations of the blood sucking creatures in the movie section was fucking garbage from the stupid assed Twilight movies. And this is after every fucking commercial on TV seems to be about this overmarketed and subintelligent excuse to ruin a great story theme.

Let me clarify this for those of you who are fans of this unholy dreck. Bram Stoker and Anne Rice are rolling over in their fucking graves. I have a desire to watch the first 15 minutes of the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie (and it was the worst 15 minutes in an otherwise good movie, ever). Brad Pitt is a much cooler vampire now, and even Neo's performance in one of the Dracula remakes is now fucking golden. And the only thing that would be better is if Sarah Michelle Gellar got to meet Twilight's douche-vamp, Edward, and break out Mr Pointy:

.For the backstory on this excellent vid, click here.

Now, back to the point here. Vampires are generally bad guys, with notable exceptions, and even then they're fucking monsters or demons, dispatched by stakes, sunlight or the Daywalker. They run fucking strip bars to trap truckers and whorehouses to suck men dry (of blood, you pervs) like in Dennis Miller's cinematic opus, Bordello of Blood.

They don't fucking sparkle! or angst over some clumsy high schooler for no discernible reason other than to make tweens and emo-worshiping girls wet their fucking panties and shit. Stephenie Meyer, the insipid twat who spilled ink on paper and produced this vomitus (or had a room full of monkeys on depressants bang it out in between shit throwing and piss drinking sessions) needs to give up trying to be an actual writer and churn out those softcore fuck books in the stupid romance section of the Wal-Mart bookshelves (not a real bookstore). You know, the ones with the sultry damsel in the flowing dress being embraced or held in some way by the somewhat or totally shirtless studmuffin with chiseled muscles and flowing hair (every cover looks like that. WHY!?!?!?!).

And if you don't know what all this shit is about, here's the best (and funniest) synopsis of this projectile vomit-inducing book/movie mistake I have found. And if you're a Twitlight lover, sorry your taste sucks. I'd suggest reversing that lobotomy.

So I got home with serious attitude (and the first part of this post half-figgered out). And since (FUCK ANOTHER TWITLIGHT COMMERCIAL!!!) I was feeling in the mood, I managed to scrounge up my guitars and tuner (kids do terrible things with tuning knobs) and bang out a little music (when not chatting incessantly with people). Alas, the night went fast, and then Beth posed a question to me that got me searching. She asked about my Christmas playlist.

I had put up a playlist last year on SPD, because I have a serious passion for Christmas music. Of course, the playlist will be appearing her and there this year, but NOT UNTIL AFTER THANKSGIVING!!!!!!!!11! Let me be clear on that. With occasional exceptions, Christmas music does not get regular play in my world until after Thanksgiving to the end of the year. Otherwise, it becomes absolutely worthless in the world.

So since I want to have the playlist up (I'll probably do it at work on Thanksgiving evening) I set out to check links, update and change songs around, and find new stuff. So I searched a couple of things. Then I widened it out to search for anything with 'Christmas' in it.

For your information, there were 5,528 songs to check out. Many of which were duplicates. Much of which was shit (Kenny G, Clay Aiken, any Disney-spawned musical rapists, the fucking Chipmunks). And yet, I found new, excellent, and really messed up stuff. I kept the most perverse off the list. For example, one Jingle Bell Rock parody was titled 'Suck on My Cock. That's the premise of the whole fucking song, and it's a mess (in every way imaginable). And I got through 100 pages of it before quitting.

So it's now 2:30 in the morning (no kids is great sometimes), because it was after updating the list that I started writing this. But a good time was had by all (me), so happy happy joy joy and shit. Now if you want to preview the Christmas selections this year, here it is, 45 tracks of Christmas-y goodness. And if you have any requests, you know where the comment section is. I'll look into finding a good rendition. And if you have a thing for Mariah Carey Christmas tunes, go watch fucking Twitlight, then go stand in traffic and see if any sparkly fucks try and save you.

As for me, I'm too old to do much more at this point other than spank it and sleep....

...the limitations in being an open book.

2009-11-19T23:21:00.000-05:00

This post began after a long silence after I finally found myself back on eHarmony.com after a couple of years (I last visited there with no results in the waning days of the Succubus). Yeah, I finally got my ass to eHorny to see what I could find. Of course I did so because I spotted that it was a free communication weekend. But, after getting everything filled out, I balked. Probably because while I am as open as all fuck out here, I tend to hesitate when there's a chance at rejection (which probably explains the disastrous relationships I end up in.

In fact, it's my disastrous prior relationships that make me hesitant as all shit out. After all, unlike the past, I have to make any relationship (or even a mutually horny fuck buddy) secondary to my children. Always. So I can't get another succubus latched onto my ass (or other throbbing appendages). Which makes single mothers look better and better to me (because they have the same baggage and bullshit to deal with).

So let me show you what I found, names omitted, and get your opinions. Both women are at least an hour south (somewhere around Dayton), which means a date will be a significant drive. Here's the general info:

Match #1

Occupation: Customer Service Rep
Age: 39
Height: 5' 2"
Ethnicity: White, non-Hispanic
Religion: Spiritual, but not religious
Want Kids: No
Drinks: About once a week
Smokes: About once a week

The one thing xxxx is most passionate about:

Music

The most influential person in xxxx's life has been:

I have a friend that will not work; therefore lives with whoever will have her that week. Believe it or not, she influences me b/c I do not want to be like her. She keeps me motivated to do what I need to do! :)

xxxx's friends describe her as:

Articulate
Intelligent
Outgoing
Funny

Three of xxxx's best life-skills are:

Using humor to make friends laugh
Continuing to expand my knowledge and awareness
Raising and/or caring for children

The most important thing xxxx is looking for in a person is:

I need to be with someone who laughs and plays jokes and harmless pranks. I love to havr fun, especially when the joke's on me.

The first thing you'll probably notice about xxxx when you meet her:

I would have to say the fact that I'm in a good mood all the time, and that I love my job.

xxxx typically spends her leisure time:

I enjoy computer games, playing with the kids, and watching movies

The last book xxxx read and enjoyed:

My school book of Constitutional Law. Don't scoff, please! I was very interested in my rights and I learned far more than I ever thought possible.

Match #2

Occupation: Management
Age: 30
Height: 5' 5"
Ethnicity: White, non-Hispanic
Religion: Spiritual, but not religious
Want Kids: No
Drinks: A few times a year
Smokes: A few times a year

The one thing xxxx is most passionate about:

Sports, love football and baseball. My family, music-country and rock.

The three things which xxx is most thankful for:

I am thankful for my children.
I am thankful for my career. I have a four your Bachelor's degree that I have worked very hard for/
I am thankful for my family.

xxxx's friends describe her as:

Hard Working
Passionate
Warm
Romantic

xxxx typically spends her leisure time:

i love to watch the nascar races, I sponser a family at Christmas time, and I love to lounge and watch the football games.

Now remember, eHorny matched a whole bunch of other compatibility things up to give me these matches. And I'm trying to decide still if I want to get in touch with one or both in some way to see what happens. Of course if I do so, all I have to do is drop the link to this blog and they have my world in view. And they get to see that I asked readers of this blog which one I should try to contact.

Of course, there's also the option of letting my profile float out there and see if anyone decides to respond. That's the safe (pussy-assed) option. Now it's Thursday night, so I have until Sunday night to communicate for free and hope they respond. and we can progress enough to take it off of eHarmony (in other words, I give her my Gmail (which is wholly public). And it looks like I can do so.

Of course, if I get her to the blogs, she may read and decide to do a runner. Then it's back to the excessive masturbatory references. And since I've been this horny since my teen years (where I first developed my inability to score), I've had enough practice. Maybe I'll get more details of my sexual history another day (although without positions, pics, and gooey descriptions). In general, I can say I had a good time, mostly, even in the worst of circumstances. But I'll leave it at that for right now.

I think I've probably said too damned much already.... :)

...thankfully, I didn't post until today.

2009-11-10T14:28:00.000-05:00

Read on, I'm going to ask for a date by the end of this post.

I occasionally suffer bouts of fun and irrational depression, usually stemming from things that are reasonably depressing. And I was geared up to chronicle that sadness and shit last night. Of course, after a couple of hours of yammering abut bullshit with my buddy who is soon to forsake his New Zealand home of a decade and return to the land of his birth (where we'll be in the same damned time zone), as well as discovering some decent Kiwi (New Zealand) bands and burning an hour on YouTube in the bursuit of bad gaming jokes, I kind of got some of that melancholy out of my system.

But not all of it.

Consider my situation, most of which is a combination of my quirky collection of talents, behaviors, and choices (mostly bad). I have an ideal job that doesn't pay enough in a high-unemployment economy and state. I have two children, which is both a joy and a constant responsibility. I have an ex (the ever-vexing Succubus) who is unemployed (no child support), unburdened of children (which was the right thing for me to do), and is getting laid (because she has a vagina and the time to sucker another guy in), and whose presence reminds me of what I don't have. My social life consists of typing sentences on this computer and posting them on blogs and Facebook (although this is an improvement over past years). I have a bachelor's degree (in business) that I have practical use for, the debt to accompany it, and no clear career path (because I've switched directions several times, and may finally be getting a bearing on what I do best). Of course, what direction I can go is severely limited by my responsibilities.

And this is what weighs on my mind as we crawl toward the holidays.

Of course, this creates even more tension with the rest of my family. More on that later, when more shit hits the fan.

Right now, I have to come up with a lot of things. One thing I don't have time for is my personal life (beyond the blogs). Because between the lack of money and utter lack of time, any dating scene I might come up with is non-existent.

So here's where I put the word out: Someone out there has to know a single woman somewhere close to my age (36), with or without kids, likes the kinds of things I talk about (politics, electronics, minutia, utter perversion), and is also looking for someone and having shit for luck in said process. Anybody who's read me has a pretty good bearing on who I am, because I don't hold a lot back.

One obvious caveat: If you're too far away and you don't have any of these single females within driving distance of New Bremen, Ohio, it's much less likely for anything to work. But if she's got money and likes travel (to the middle of nowhere), then maybe.

So let's see what you can come up with....

...worse before it got better.

2009-11-07T22:20:00.000-05:00

So I write my post, knowing that I'll have two days without kids, which means two nights of creativity/fun/alone/naked time, depending on my mood/whim/testosterone level. Good times, right? I was feeling a little down, but I figured that since the boy was throwing snot and my head was feeling a little chunky, ti was just the allergies fucking in my cabbage patch.

Alas, I get home feeling like dog shit in a flaming bag.

(On a side note, can't wait until i can teach the kids that trick and have a reason to deploy it.)

So I get home after a run to Wal-Mart for any necessities that may arise (pretty shirts for a daughter, including something Tinkerbell, cheese and spinach tortellini, ice cream) to find myself fevery and shivering. I feel bad enough to soak in a tub, then crawl on the couch by nine to pass out. I wake up at midnight long enough to strip and crawl into bed where the fun of fever hallucination makes it a crazy-assed set of hours. I then crawl out about 8:30, still feeling shitty. I manage to get some food down (pork fat rules when frying eggs and hash browns) and watch some movie, but not much else as I need some energy to work (sort of). And I'm still dragging a little. Although I have the energy to write this.

Of course, all the free time I had just went to shit.

But at least being sick gives me a reason to fuck off.

One advantage of being me is that I don't get that sick. Sure, I get my bitch headaches from time to time. I fight allergies and at least a cold a year. But it's a rare thing that I'm that bedridden. I can't think of a day of work I missed because I was sick. And I've gone to work in such condition that I spent much of the time just trying to muster the energy to actually work. Thankfully, the jobs I've been sick during have been ones where there is an opportunity to sit if necessary. Right now, I have a desk I can put my head on if necessary. If I was working from home, I could probably work from bed if necessary. Although by last night, even my brain wasn't exactly working.

On fever hallucinations, the last couple of nights (and tonight, if the feeling in my eyes is any indication) have been rather messed up. In a semi-conscious state, my brain was running at full throttle. I was remembering and living through stuff (I can't remember the specifics). Imagine hearing half a dozen audio streams, several videos, and a few people talking at the same time, trying to take all of this in at once. Normally, I can take a lot of information at once. Last night, not so much.

I just need to burn this shit out of my system so I can get back to the level you've come to expect from the greatness that is me. Because my head is starting to buzz in a good way again. That, or the sickness is working its way back in. Shit.

Now, although it didn't help last night (and ended up on the blanket, I was so messed up), it's time to explore the healing power of ice cream....

...living in malaise.

2009-11-06T16:40:00.000-05:00

Since the last time I posted, I've lost track of so much time that I couldn't tell you shit about what happened over the last five days. I know I got the kids to school on time. There was an election. I watched the reboot of V (good enough to keep watching). I know we had dinner at Wendy's on Tuesday (the Bacon Deluxe rocks!). And my buddy from New Zealand is in town, and despite 15 years and some bad shit (the short version was that there was youthful indiscretion that ended a friendship, which was mended by time), it's as though we never split, never went on to deal with succubi, produce children, deal with the law, get married, bounce from job to job, and so on, and so forth.

I'd borrow the Forrest Gump phrase "peas and carrots" if it didn't make me sound like I was ready to drop down and take a mouthful of cock.

But for the most part, I'd swear that nothing else happened for hours on end.

Perhaps it's one of the worse patterns I fall into. When messy things happen (like the Succubus dropping off the radar in terms of child support), I avoid shit. In fact, it was only the need to make sure checks written would be covered that motivated me to get back into my finances today. And there's no good news there. Meanwhile, another week has gone by that shouldn't have.

But there are a million ideas swimming in my head again, whereas there wasn't shit for the most part for the prior week. But my challenge is always translating those ideas into something concrete. The best I've done is the blogs (and if you noticed, I've slacked here).

So since I don't have the kids (the Succubus is good for something once in a while), maybe I'll get something done....

...hadn't blogged for days.

2009-11-02T08:55:00.000-05:00

I have a tendency to get locked into things and spend a lot of time on them without accomplishing anything. This weekend was one of those. The kids and I spent way too much time in front of computers on Saturday (so much so that the end of daylight savings time afforded me another hour of burning my eyes out), breaking only to get necessities done. A good time was had by all.

So I got up surprisingly awake and seriously unshaved on Sunday with a goal of not getting on the computers all day. I did so by simply running maintenance (spyware, optimization, antivirus, disk defrag), so while they were technically on, no one was doing anything (and thus the silence until Monday morning). What my plan was for the day was to get stuff cleaned up, as well as not bog down and get locked into a malaise.

However, I noticed something on the now-banned network, SyFy (formerly the Sci-Fi Channel, now a network with a stupid-asssed name that I mispronounce si-fee). It's the original V miniseries. I'd heard that ABC was doing a reboot of the series (similar to Battlestar Galactica, except probably shittier). But I had wondered if I could find the original miniseries online. So, seeing it was on all day, I flipped it on.

This was a series we watched as a family back in 1983, and the second in 1984. I was yet to be 10. This was before TiVo, before cable, before we even had a VCR. This was event viewing. We actually rolled the TV to the kitchen doorway to watch it while eating (we could do that in those days). For me, it had aliens and something vaguely reminiscing of Star Wars (as the original series aired between Empire and Jedi, when Vader being Luke's father was still a revelation). Looking back, it was intended to be that way, referencing the Trilogy on the news early in the movie and having a marching band murdering John Williams' main theme for a couple of minutes.

Obviously, this time around, I got a lot more of the references, like the whole Nazi theme. And overall, the series held up, despite some laughable special effects (the skin peeling wasn't bad, but the baby lizard puppet was ridiculous). Of course, I expected it to look a little hokey, as it was in the days of optical compositing. Any creatures before the days of digital (with the notable exception of Yoda) look humorous now. But since it was mostly about people and the Visitors (who conveniently never took off their people skins), most special effects were either sticking a ship in the air or shooting lasers and blowing up shit.

But progress was made, and my living room is clear. The kitchen is in ok shape (nothing that a little cleaning won't solve. The kids' bedroom is easy. My room is still a grabtastic clusterfuck. But as i have some time to clean and it's cold enough to not let the kids run outside, it should be possible to get shit clean. If I can stay off the Internet most of today, that is.

And since one of my friends just got into town (from New Zealand), I'll probably be busier than usual....

... blogging for trick or treat.

2009-10-29T23:55:00.014-04:00

As I sit here in front of the apartment, I'm looking out on a lawn that is relatively free of leaves. This is because I took the combination of my leaf blower and a rake and mad a big fucking pile of them on the curb. the pile takes about half of the front. And the worst part is that I only need to look UP to see that the trees are still pretty full of leaves (2-3 more piles to rake, at least). On one side, the neighbor's tree is mostly empty. The other side, two barren trees. Of course, my leaves go flying into his yard, so....

So we get done with that, I cram some PB&J into them and throw together costumes. This year it was a fairy (which was fun to put together for $4) and some kind of Road Warrior-ish looking thing (a chestplate, shield, gun, $4). As you have surmised, I'm a cheap bastard. But when you have a 3-year-old and a 5-year-old, and the 5-year old doesn't give a shit until he actually sees the candy, why blow lots of cash?

The unfortunate aftermath of last weekend's need to go beg child care from the Succubus is that it gave her an opportunity to ask to take the kids out trick or treating. And since at least one of the kids wanted to go with her, I relented. It meant that I could sit in the cold and hand out candy to all the other kids (and have some leftovers for me).

Luckily it's not that cold, have the neighbors on the porch handing out candy as well, I don't have to chase after the kids, and I have time to blog about this (it's 6:51 at this moment).

It started out pretty lively, but as the darkness falls, it gets quieter. I had the opportunity to carve my pumpkin (right, with the blog post in progress behind). I got artistic, deploying the heavy blade, the thin blade, and the electric hand saw. I had some lights left over, so being the geek that I am, I wired the bastard up.

For the most part, the costumes were good, mostly bought, some creative. Thankfully, there were no punk preteens too lazy to actually put on a costume. I was thinking either rocks or eggs. The egg would be cool because it would be intact when I put it in. But at some point, crack. As long as the bastards don't see it go in, victory is mine. Although the rock would be more evocative of the It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

And since I have the time to look it up:

Now if the Succubus would just get the younglings back, I could call it a night, snap a pic of them in costume (I forgot to prior), dump the pics, and shut this down (with significant candy-age left).

(hours later)

Yeah, I'm done, but I have to add the pics before I post. And since the kids were late in getting back and I bedded them first, I let the post sit for a few.

But the pics (without the kids in their costumes) are here....

...finally got it up.

2009-10-28T16:25:00.000-04:00

Love that title. Love it.

With the kids off to school, the news came again. And boy was I excited. It's the kind of thing I like to watch. Doesn't matter the time of day. And I can watch the same thing over and over and over and still get turned on.

Okay, enough with the running double entendre (you fucking pervs). I'm talking about the launch of the Ares I-X rocket today. This is the first test of the next-generation rocket system which will replace the near-retirement Space Shuttle fleet (after several years of impotence (had to fit that one in (because I, too am a fucking perv))). The Constellation program (of which the Ares is a part) is a combo of Shuttle ans Apollo program technology. It didn't explode. And it was beautiful.

Now I've gone on on the value and importance to the country that the space program is over on SPD, so I'm going to let that subject lie.

(Total sidebar: I remember writing the line above from a damned dream. I have these flashes of deja-vu/snippets of the future every so often, and I figure they'll pay off in the end because I'll be able to save my ass by seeing the future. If this sounds fucked up, consider the source.)

But seeing it happen from the beginning (I can vaguely remember Columbia launching), as well as major triumphs/tragedies (the Challenger disaster is seared into my brain) is always an improvement to trying to recapture history after the fact (my movies include The Right Stuff, the HBO miniseries From the Earth to the Moon, and Apollo 13). So here's what I saw today (yay for CNN's video selection):

On watching this unmanned test flight (about 6 minutes including descent) with my kids, as well as numerous replays (NASA TV makes C-SPAN look exciting, but they do give you replays of every camera angle), it reminded me of another short (15 minute) flight on April 15, 1961, which I have seen mostly in two of the movies listed above. In one of them (The Right Stuff), our first astronaut, Alan B Shepherd, pisses himself, then gets shot into suborbital history. Here's the other version:

When they're older, I'm taking the kids down there for one....

...after I got the blogs organized.

2009-10-27T22:54:00.000-04:00

With the unleashing of this blog, I felt the need/desire to clean up SPD a little bit, mainly clearing the old blogs and deadweight from the blogroll. In that, I took a couple of blogs that are really not about politics (Dmarks' Throwawayblog and Arthur's Arga Warga) and move them to my non-politics blogroll. So give them a try if you haven't done so because you found them all mixed in with the politics.

To that I added the hot new favorite, People of Wal-Mart. Scary thing, I have at least 2 pics (both cars, thank Me) that are definitely from around here (and the one on the right I KNOW where the place that rented that piece of shit out is). It's pointless and accurate and very much what ices the cake when you go into the glorious belly of the beast.

My final addition is not a new one to mentions, but with this blog being much about me and my life, it calls for the addition of Free-Range Kids. For a lazy-assed parent like me, it works. Plus, I don't want my kids to be complete pussies.

Speaking of which, I began trying to put together costumes tonight. I'll have to work on the boy as he is quite as uninterested as always. I'd do him up as a Padawan, but the lightsaber would probably violate some dumb-ass zero tolerance law. On the other hand, a pair of fairy wings and some purple hair extensions, and one of the younglings is all excited and shit.

Real plus, I flipped on to TCM, and found the 1982 classic Poltergeist. I got the kids bedded before the movie got too intense (except for the boy-eating tree part). But, they've seen my ass,so not much else can scar them. I was impressed by the Star Wars swag in the one kid's bedroom. I saw shit that I had when I was his age (and I was that age when the movie came out. All in all, the movie holds up.

Now if I could just find a scary movie or two....

...too much time on Wookiepedia.

2009-10-25T10:30:00.000-04:00

After an actual busy day (damned unconfirmed outages), I gathered the younglings and brought them home. To pass the remaining time before bed (and a night of watching Cops (gotta love tasers)) we polished off Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, as we had watched Episode V the prior day or so (strangely, my favorite of the movies is his favorite as well:

The point of the above clip, as well as the rest of this story, is that you find layers. The layer that came to me last night was as those annoying teddy bear stand-ins the Ewoks, were hauling Luke, Han, and Chewie off to their village. To quote C3P0 (from memory, bitches!): "I'm afraid you're to be the main course in a banquet in my honor." Didn't happen, of course, but that meant that the Ewoks eat people. So we come to the end of the movie, everybody's all happy and shit, dancing to the inferior filler music that came about in the Special Edition release of the movie. And like it was from the first time the movie hit theaters, the Ewoks are banging melodically on drums, stormtrooper helmets and armor and shit, and making those annoying cute sounds.

One question: What happened to the stormtroopers that were in that armor? After all, that's a lot of delicious meat (much of it cloned) that could fill the bellies of those ravenous little furballs. So did the Ewoks eat the stormtroopers? This leads us to the tagline, "Stormtrooper: the Other White Meat," as well as a new way to scar impressionable youth (not my kids, they're already warped enough).

So this meant I had to Google to see what other information was out there. Not surprisingly, others beat me to the punch. But this also put me onto Wookiepedia, which is the Star Wars Wiki site. It's a little more comprehensive than the highly produced and harder to wield Databank over on StarWars.com. And then I had some other things I wondered about. Like: When did Luke Skywalker die? 100+ years after the movies, from old age, if you want to know. Then I got into the rest of his family. And the wars and trials that came after beating the Empire the first time (no, killing the Emperor didn't end the Empire, or kill the Emperor (yes, cloning technology)). As well as the fates of some other characters (some were left open, some were corpsesicles). And lightsaber fighting styles. Etc.

I started this before Cops came on (7 o'clock hour), put the boy to bed reading from the Wiki, fell asleep on the couch reading, and then finished this morning before seeing the kids off (giving me a couple of hours to myself to clean, eat, , shit, and pen this shit (and probably tug one out)). With interruptions, I got a better grasp on the post-movie canon over about 6 waking hours.

Six hours of reading and I only brushed on the scariest possibility of them all from the Star Wars universe: Luke's love interest. Guess who was listed first.

I think this inspired a Wikipedia search on the subject in the real world at some point....

...after much procrastination.

2009-10-22T17:58:00.000-04:00

The advantage of going to work is that it both structures my day tightly that I get the hours used productively. In addition (and ironically) it also affords me the option of time to punch out some blog posts.

I had let SPD sit with Monday's Asshat of the Week post until today for that very reason, despite having an idea for a follow-up post about the demonization/deification of political figures, thus losing any perspective a real person brings to a discussion. I may get around to writing it. I know I have seen something about it on other blogs not too long ago.

But I was simply too busy between running around trying to get shit done in the morning, and enjoying time with the kids for the rest of the days (because it was warm enough for shorts!). So I slacked, because it was going to take some application of my ginormous brain power, which was in seriously short supply after the mad scramble that was only resolved by having to argue with the Succubus (who, for some reason, doesn't want to see her children despite weak-assed text messages to the contrary). Hell, I'm still fighting that battle with her. I've got a few ideas for the long-term, but as long as I'm working weekends, the problem will continue.

In fact, my brain has been far enough out of things that I've neglected both the news and the blogroll. The only blogs I even got to were ones that were dropping links to Facebook (on which I only spend a couple of minutes, so I'm not joining a damned game!). and the worst part is that I forgot about today until today.

Today, Windows XP officially becomes the old operating system. Vista, the unholy love child of Bill Gates and diehard Windows ME users, is now relegated to the scrapheap of OS's that should have never been. And as soon as I can get a legit release copy, I'll be reloading my laptop with what has proven (in release candidate form) to be the best thing since sliced bread (or Win98 SE or XP SP2):

Windows 7

Now I'm not one to flog any of Microsoft's shit, because I'm not a fan of near total market domination by overpriced and sucktastic programs (Microsoft Orifice, Idiot Exploder, etc) when there are all kinds of open-source free things that do the job as well or better (I think that's the Google model). But when you get shit right out of the box, it's worth a congrats. My two previous beloved OS's were patched to be made right. (98's Second Edition, and XP after Service Pack 2). But as I have mentioned in other places, I've been running the release candidate of 7 on my laptop for lack of another option initially. Even with a couple glitches (inevitable in a pre-release), it has outperformed my XP computers with ease. So if you're running Vista (which almost runs right now), ditch the bitch and get the upgrade if you can afford it. I've got about 4 months before I have to (or come up with a *shudder* Vista disk).

And I already miss the sun. After last week's cold/cloudy combo, it kind of made yesterday too damned nice. So nice that I enjoyed it rather than sitting here blogging about it.

Of course, since it's that time of day, it's time for me to go home rather than salivate about a new 7 installation....

...you pissed yourself again?

2009-10-20T22:10:00.000-04:00

After a mad scramble this morning, $44 to replace the missing birth certificates (and the fee went up $6 from a WEEK ago), and finding the solution of my crisis was to get hold of the Succubus (abandonment will have to wait) and get her to be responsible (the excuse being she was "too busy to call" and do her visitation for the past month), I was feeling the significant lack of pressure (this week).

Of course, then the kids came home.

I remember an old Eddie Murphy routine where he was talking about his first attempts at standup comedy. He talked about taking a shit. I thought it was funny at the time. Partially, because talking shit about shit is funny as shit. Also, because I have far too many stories of my own, like the tale of the triple threat (drop a ball, then a mound of soft serve, then the soupy fire of the assplosion). And because toilet humor is always funny. Because it is.

But when you have two preschoolers that take the day and piss themselves silly, not a fun time. I think they BOTH had to change undies 3-4 times. Hell, even the neighbor girl pissed herself before my younger one pissed herself the last time, just after the boy pissed himself while going back to the house to piss. And that was after we went to the playground, the boy pissed himself, we came back home and got him pissed/squared away, then went back, and repeated it with the girl.

Well, on the plus, I get the laundry done more often, because if there's one thing that's worse than piss, it's week old dried piss clothes.

Finally, to avert a complete mess of the day, we took advantage of family night at Wendy's. I get a good sandwich (that bacon deluxe they're advertising on TV now) and they each get a kids meal for 99 cents a piece. The sandwich (bacon makes EVERYTHING better) was damned good and we go out to eat on the cheap (otherwise, I get the cheap ass dollar sandwiches).

If it weren't for such things as a 2-meat magicifence in my mouth (not like that you pervs), I'd probably snap and start Force throwing shit. But that's why they make video games for the purpose. In this case, Star Wars: the Force Unleashed (PS2 version). There's nothing to take the edge off more than picking up a Stormtrooper with the Force, choking him, moving him away, throwing him at yourself, then slicing him as he flies by. Violent, I know, but when the game gives you credit for rocking the Dark Side, you rock the Dark Side like a motherfucker.

And sometimes it's just fun watching a 5-year-old slicing Wookies with Lord Vader....

...the desk is emptier.

2009-10-19T22:05:00.000-04:00

One thing I have learned is that I'm an epic procrastinator. Right now, I'm paying for that. I finally got into the clearing of my desk. The result is that I'm finding things are messier on the paperwork front than before. A simple example (partially due to some acquisition of my shit by the Succubus): I'm having to get copies of birth certificates. I had to mail off for mine (as I was born a few hours away), so that was $20 plus 2 stamps (1 for a self-addressed stamped envelope). And the magnicifent Auglaize county is going to smack me for $22 for a copy of each of the younglings' certificates. So there's $64 I don't have. Another situation is brewing this weekend, as I'm a little out on the babysitter front (it's hard to work with two kids, especially when you have to be on the phone).

But I'm good at pulling miracles out of my ass (although I'm going to run out one day.

But there are positives. Once I get the desk situation under control (I was slowed down today due to equipment malfunctions), then I can get some other things in the pipes to bring in some money. I also got the energy to dig into my pantry. Half a box, half a stick, and one bag later, Rice Krispy Treats!

This takes me back to simplicity. Simplicity is kind of something that I have lost in the speed I function, with a TV and a computer and two rugrats running at a gazillion miles an hour at the same time. It's probably why on days I don't work, the headaches come. It's why I end up overwhelmed on a weekly basis by something on the homefront (while the external pressures don't even faze me). It's probably why I started this day at 8AM (and the kids get on the bus around 8:12 (yeah, it was a fast start)).

So now I just need to get fired up and get back to work since the kids are in bed. Although having to deal with the controlled chaos of the kids kind of leaves me with little energy to continue. It's far too easy to sleep. Especially when another constructive use of the quiet hours would also be to exercise the fat off my ass.

But alas, something else beckons....

...I got grooving on vinyl.

2009-10-18T21:52:00.001-04:00

It started on Friday, when I took the kids to get stuff to make costumes (I've spent $6.50 so far for BOTH). Something about getting out really eats into productivity. I did do the Friday Football Fried Food Meal (chicken, fried; onion rings, battered and fried; zucchini, battered and fried to mush (first time, failed)), although we did abandon football (due to losing teams, a theme that would be repeated through the weekend). But since I had nothing planned on Saturday, no problems, right?

Saturday comes, and with it the bitch headache. The problems are many. First, the headache is there from the minute I get up. And usually, that getting up involves having to take care of the kids. What it doesn't include is cleaning (which is already falling behind from Friday. Fuck beans. It also is only cured by a nap. Did I mention the kids? Between one who sits at the computer until he pisses himself (literally), and another who likes to jump on her daddy, and the fact I can't just go completely to sleep (I drift with something over my eyes), it's an iffy proposition. I did manage to nap a bit after they were lunched. And I woke up in time to get supper going, although I was groggy. And really out of it. Naturally, I did manage a good supper, which

So I get up on Sunday, still dragging from Saturday (I'm unmotivated as fuck when I don't have anything scheduled. I honestly don't know how the day goes so fast. But I finally got moving on stuff later in the day, accompanied by the most ancient of recorded media: vinyl records.

Despite growing up mainly with cassette, then migrating to CD, and despite the proliferation of the MP3 format, I have also been building a collection of records. I also have an old turntable (just old enough that I need a preamp to feed it to any current electronics (really, you have to have a device that can handle the output from a magnetic cartridge)) on which to spin said albums. It's really easy to collect if you're up for scouring bargain bins and shit. So if you're the type that ONLY listens to music on your Ipod, this ain't for you. Now it may be hard to understand, but there is a warmth in vinyl that you simply can't find in the clean-scrubbed, digitized music. And compressed shit like the MP3 is fine for getting music really compact, but it's the best way to rape sound quality. And when I'm at home, I do want quality.

Some highlights of what I had on: Side one of the self-titled Night Ranger (if Sister Christian doesn't do something, you have no soul). The In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida side of Iron Butterfly's album, also named In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (which I had never really run through). From the "I had the album on tape but never replaced it because it was the 90's and there were other CDs to collect" bin, Huey Lewis and the fucking News, Sports (fuck you, I grew up on that shit). And for dinner (which the kids didn't eat worth shit on again) I broke out an old favorite, The Blues Brothers Soundtrack (why I don't have it on CD, I don't know).

Needless to say, were I alone and cleaning, shit would be done. Of course, with kids I managed to just about get caught up to where I should have been Friday. And now that Discovery's got hours of storm chasing (I have a hardon for tornadoes), It'll be a matter of just taking care of odds and ends before bed, and deployment of the younglings for "school time, school time, school time" (at which point I wake my voice and their asses at full volume with the preceding invocation). And maybe I'll even shave tomorrow and try some video, now that I have my cable (and found the missing one 30 minutes after that).

Of course, that still leaves the pile of shit on my desk to deal with tomorrow. And time is running out....

... on cool and rainy days bringing on the malaise.

2009-10-15T17:07:00.000-04:00

In trying to figure out how I'm going to meet my financial obligations in the next moth, let alone this year, I find myself staring at my desk full of paper. And I come to the realization that I have to dig in and deal with everything. The problem is that I've let it build up to the point that it will take hours.

Meanwhile, I find what energy I have being sapped by the cold and the rain. And the fact that it looks like the next couple of days will be that way (there's hope for sun on the weekend) just makes me want to curl up and watch a whole season of something depressing. Or maybe all 6 Star Wars movies with the dry-assed commentary track on(only mildly interesting if you're a Star Wars geek (thankfully, I am)) while eating lots of fried (and therefore grease-hot) things. It certainly doesn't inspire the desire to rock out, because the kids get stir crazy far too quick. And productive uses of my time (like keeping up with the cleaning)? Yah.

I'm looking at this screen and wondering what to write about next. Although I have a gazillion and one (.347862876297469243) ideas a second sometimes, it's on days like this that I barely have the energy to dig through my email, let alone go ape shit on the political blogs with my wit and wisdom (and wang). In fact (clumsy segue moment to address question asked) it makes me start to wonder about the meaning of life.

And since it was asked, I'll pinch off a response (which describes where I get my philosophy in general) about the meaning of my own life

I haven't got a fucking clue.

I think that's the way it's supposed to be. You either head a specific direction or you drift somewhat aimlessly (drifters on my blog, UNITE! if you feel like it, and if you get around to it (let's wait on the procrastinators)) and you continue forth until you arrive in the right place at the right time. This is where my faith leads me. Because I know there is something important for me to do. I just don't know what it is, where I must be, when it will happen, who will be touched, and why I'm the person. I'm certain I know how to do what I must do, but since the other questions aren't answered, I'm guessing it's a combination of things in my unique skill set (computers, writing, driving, cooking, singing, masturbation, spewing inane catch phrases).

The worst part is that I have to make sure I finish this before I go home. As it is, I need to get my bill for my Internet paid, and the office will be closed until tomorrow. In other words, if I'm off, I'm off until tomorrow. Ick. On the plus, I have enough offline stuff to keep me busy.

Of course, I'm not sure where I put the CD with the stroke vids....

...trying to capture the fun of my college days.

2009-10-14T00:56:00.004-04:00

The illustrious one that is the wisdom and the light that is he who is I Myself has actually been spewing out these overrated catchphrases and shit for almost a couple of decades. From some early prototype stuff produced with my best buddy in high school with a couple tape recorders and a shitty stereo condenser mic (that mic is still in my sound equipment in a crate in my room here) to my short-lived and tumultuous time on college radio down in Dayton, Ohio, I've been trying to capture the spontaneity that a wit such as mine possesses. I've kind of learned over the years what does and doesn't work.

First, I'm really at my best when I have another person to bounce off of. Some of my early solo attempts were flat and boring. But when I had another person who kind of provided the straight man to my insanity (and if you've read enough of my blogs, you know what I'm talking about), some funny shit came out of it. I actually have the evidence. On tape. Although a couple of them have deteriorated, and the digital copies I made are missing.

Second, music doesn't soothe the angry beast, it get's the bitch all up in the mothafucker like a bitch on the skinny crack-crack. On crack. Either way, I've always been someone that really keys into music, from the sublime to the crunchy, and everything in between. Except Toad the Wet Sprocket. That band just depressed the shit out of me because their music was all slow-assed depressing, even the fast stuff.

Third (and this it's something I've learned through my writing more), I do best when I'm me, not a caricature of me. That's actually the whole purpose behind this blog. I can, in essence, pull my nuts out and not be embarrassed about talking whatever shit I'm talking about while I type with my mansack flapping in the breeze (FYI, my testicles are contained snugly because it's too cold to sit around naked (and I have kids)).

The only problem I have is that in writing, I can't keep up with the thoughts as fast as they come. Plus, I usually have something else on when I write, thus distracting me at times. For example, I wrote this while watching Robot Chicken, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and Metalocalypse. It means that while you get the gist, I'm bound to miss something somewhere, because I come up with a dozen ideas a second when I get the jism flowing. An example is the mention of my college radio days. I had though about that a few days ago. I forget what I was going to say originally. But I got it in there.

Which brings me to a fourth thing that works: Feedback. And not just the kind when you rub the mic over the speakers to hear the scream. I'm mainly talking the kind that I get from the people who can't turn away from the mental carnage that flows from my various orifici. This post began when I got an Email from Beth about my proposal to whip it out in the YouTube-iverse (my intellect, you perv bastards, I'd get flagged for pulling out my junk).

So for those of you reading, ask me some questions. I'm pretty certain I can take it and turn it into a long-winded answer after a log and possibly pointless rant. And in answer to Beth, I'm trying to recapture the best of me by by rockin' the 'Tube.

Right now, I just need sleep, so I can roll out the kids for school. It's too late and I'm too tired to even make the requisite masturbatory reference....

....the reason I have a job.

2009-10-13T14:00:00.005-04:00

One thing I hear a LOT during my time on the phones doing tech support is "I'm really computer illiterate." No shit. Now, this is not a complaint, because clueless computer users are job security for me. In fact, the only requisite skills a caller has to have when they call in are the ability to read, look, listen, point, click, and type what I tell them, and maybe pull some cables out (usually power, occasionally network). Not surprisingly, some people don't have most of these skills (like reading). Yes, I get illiterate people trying to operate computers. It is possible (my preschoolers can, and they're just learning to read), but when you're trying to tech a problem, most of it involves me trying to gather the information I need from the caller. And inaccuracy, or flat out wrong information, means that the process gets drawn out. When it's a slow day, and this is my last call, and it's my late day, and my off time is passed because of utter stupidity, it becomes ridiculous.

(Note: For those of you who missed it, check here for my last computer tuneup post. It will make your computer suck less.)

This gets me to a central premise in life (and I'm pretty sure I bought a book that says this): People are idiots.

And what is surprising is where you find the idiots. Doctors, for example. They know their shit when it comes to the intricacies of the human body (depending on their specialty), but seem incapable of understanding the simplest common computer things. It may be that way with most specialists, where' they've trained their brains to work intensely on specific subjects and problems, but forgot to study common fucking sense. Trust me, I have at least one doctor in the family (who was also her high school class's valedictorian) whom I'm sure I could run circles around in ANY subject of study other than her profession. Of course, that's because I'm the opposite. I'm a generalist. I've studies a little of almost everything. While this means I can learn to do a multitude of things, it does mean that the high demand and high pay of a specialist is currently out of reach (which I figured out AFTER four years of college studying for nothing in particular).

the idiot theory also explains the current state of our political system, but that's a post for another blog, so....

Interestingly, I arrived at my current job after spending my post-college career doing things I don't have a natural inclination toward. I've discovered there are two things that come naturally: working with technology (thus my misdirected energies in the RadioShack universe) and writing (which was relegated to paper and word processor work until almost two years ago). And right now, I'm thinking that applying the latter in the freelance realm will be the key to making enough money to get out of the financial rut I'm in now (because, at heart, I'm also a lazy fuck). Of course, this will be once I get my home office properly fired up (especially clearing the desk of mounds of overdue paperwork), as my employer does frown on doing other people's work while working for them (and they are probably reading this sentence (the fine-ass great employer that they are (*kissing of the ass*))).

Of course, all this is predicated on keeping my bills paid, which means it's time to start cutting the crap out....

...if I could find the damned cable.

2009-10-11T22:36:00.000-04:00

I have a camera. It's a decent camera, despite my tendency to not pick up anything more than the bottom end of electronics. However, that cable I need to connect it to my computer has gone missing. I've got 5-6 cables that are for connecting small devices like cameras. I have one for an old and broken camera. I have one for a cheap pink shit camera that I picked up for my daughter. And I have a couple cables that I'm not sure what the fuck they go to (and trust me, I am that good at finding cables.

Thus I'm limited in both downloading the pics I've captured, and documenting the progression of my mess wrangling, as well as seeing if I can turn said camera into a webcam, as the pos webcam I have sucks. I've seen pinhole camera porn made by awkward-ass teens that are gleefully making their first and worst fuck vid loook a thousand times better than the blurfest my crapcam does. And of course, it was the cheapest piece of shitty shit I could waste money on.

This comes to mind because I've been considering throwing my glowing visage, perverse and broad vocabulary, and insanely rapid patter onto the YouTube so that you can listen to and watch my ass (not literally) rather than have to slog through my excessive verbiage. I don't know if it will save me time, but I've resigned myself to the fact that the secret to getting a name out there is to turn your video viral. And I have a perverse ego to feed (and it may (but probably won't) get me laid).

Hell, I suspect my tech will conk out before I can bring all this to fruition. I tried to start this post and the computer got all locked up for a minute or two. And since Windows 7 appears to be stable, it's more perplexing yet. Perhaps it's a nudge from God to stop fucing typing and tackle the clusterfuck that is the bedroom.

Of course, first I have to tackle the table. I managed to get a pot roast just right, but failed to impress those children of mine, as they have yet to have taste buds. The gravy was spot on, yet it got rejected.

*pause to check a cable and piss*

But I'm here in my bedroom now, with it partially organized, and I'm trying to figure out where the cable went. I have stacks of paper, patch cables galore, splitters, adapters, and the ability to wire most anything out there. I've got three extra keyboards in a milk crate beside me, alongside a dead laptop, a shitty router, a microphone older than my, and a few other various pieces of electronics. I've even got the turntable and accompanying vinyl back in here. Yet for all the crap, I'm missing stuff. Of course, this extends far beyond simple things such as the cord for that camera, but said cable would be a start.

Because another day burned away with little accomplished other than a damned morning meeting. On the plus, it gave me a reason to rocket down the backroads in the morning light with Green Day's opus American Idiot blasting at full volume while I'm hitting the vocal marks spot on. That, coffee, and donuts tends to get me going.

But upon returning home, rather than having the juice to rock out with my cock out (figuratively because of the kids), I find myself back where I started.

So let's see if I can find that fucking cable....

...after the Pellenor Fields, the playing fields and the Secret Cow Level.

2009-10-10T22:55:00.000-04:00

Fall always gets me in the mood to watch The Lord of the Rings. It's probably because in the first movie, it's fall, and much of the themes are the ending of the Middle Earth as it was. So I've managed to watch it twice in the last few weeks. Between the reflections of the smallest among us rising to the great occasion and the fact that watching an army of 100,000 orcs get ridden down by 6,000 horse is just fucking cool, it's a good way to eat up a little time. What I really need is the extended version of the movies. Because 9 hours and 17 minutes in Middle Earth is not enough (that's the total run time, I added it up).

I'd like to companion it with a reading of the books, but unfortunately, my books are falling apart. I tend to read the shit out of books until they do, indeed, fall apart. When it's a thin crap book that won't fuss me if it collapses, not so bad. But it's always the big paperbacks that are both the best and the quickest chewed apart.

Of course, a fall day off would not be complete without a trip out to watch someone play soccer. Today (and tomorrow) it's my nephew that was playing. I can report that they won 2-1. Yay. And I actually saw all the scores, despite my children. They are preschoolers, they have legs, and there was a play area within line of sight. I don't think I need to elaborate.

The great thing about playing through a game is finding all the Easter eggs and bonus shit they pack in. In Diablo II, it's the Secret Cow Level. Imagine herds of cows, on two legs, sounding like people saying "moo" and chasing you down with poleaxes. It's fun.

The problem is that after all this, I get the kids bedded and I find I'm still behind on cleaning the house. It's mostly clean, if that's any consolation to myself. It won't be when my mother shows up, so perhaps I need to stop blogging long enough to clean this mess up. I have to get up for a damned meeting in the morning (Sunday morning is really quiet in the world of tech support), and that means sleep by midnight. It's ten minutes until 11 now.

With ice cream and "personal time" still to fit in, I'd better get cracking before the snacking and whacking....

..and since it's a Friday during football season...

2009-10-09T22:36:00.002-04:00

Something I've noticed is that I get stuck in horrendous ruts. Of course, when you're juggling younglings with a bedtime, and going out is not an option, both financially and logistically, and I wasn't shit for going out prior to the younglings, or the Succubus*, it's not fucking likely that I'm going to go all social butterfly suddenly. Besides, I have the Internet, so fuck the people.

(*I've decided this is the name I will give my ex. And due to the fact that I have two children who may have to deal with their mother, I'll be guarded in what I say, for both their sake and for the legal repercussions. I think referring to her as a succubus should convey the necessary feelings)

Fridays are a perfect example. Now that high school football is in season, and having been brought up in St Marys, where football is a religion (you should have seen it when we went to state and won), I have my radio tuned in to football every Friday, pregame starts at 7pm EST (WKKI). Originally, I started with a plan to sit out by the fire and listen in peace. The first week, I was interrupted by rain, then the next week by a space shuttle launch (although a fire was possible with the wireless network and the laptop). And then I got a couple of good weeks, and fires before the next complication.

Of course, that complication was season 2 of Star Wars: the Clone Wars. The new season started at 8 beginning last week (in the first quarter of the game). Naturally since it's a half-hour show, football gets shelved. The great thing is that I have at least 1 1/2 of the kids (depending on mood) as big fans of Star Wars, which is something I was geared to love when I was that age (I was that young in 1977). How often does this shit really jump generations? I can't really think of any shit that my dad was into that I was also fascinated by. I was too busy rocking the Star Wars.

So since I've got the kids in bed and the game is over (St Marys won), I'm resorting to sitting here typing this out while trying to see the other scores (the local broadcast Christian station has the best coverage for some fucking reason), determining whether tugging one out will relieve the fact that I'm essentially home bound every night, and lack any reason to try to get someone to watch the kids.

Okay, that's enough, I need ice cream before more cleaning, spanking and bed.

Holy shit, my adopted hometown of New Bremen won again this week. They keep this shit up, they might actually have a winning season....

...another damned blog? Are you cracked?

2009-10-09T13:25:00.000-04:00

This kind of takes me back to the formation of my first blog, Sane Political Discourse. When I began churning out SPD in near anonymity, it was mainly because I wanted to stretch my writing muscle. Of course, between stretching that and other parts of my anatomy (the big reason most web browsers have a privacy/porn mode), I started sharing some of my personal life. I did that mainly because it helped explain why I reached my conclusions. Some people got it, and some missed it.

But I noticed something was missing. To keep the blog somewhat on my stated purpose, I had to try to relate shit to a political, philosophical, or religious point. And there were a few posts that strayed a little, but I stayed on topic for the most part (despite some whiny wingnuts and moonbats going goofy because I didn't put their required position/dick in my mouth).

But I like talking about whatever shit comes to my mind.

Now the first reaction would be to go to Facebook (where I am probably going to link this blog) and pour it out there. But the problem with Facebook, as well as Twitter, is the space available to do so. As you noticed, I'm one verbose motherfucker (with a proclivity for use of the word fuck). In the political blog, this can sometimes take away from serious points (which is why I self-censor use of that language for the most part on SPD (really, I do)). But here, since I'm just talking shit about my shit, your shit, and shit in general, I can say shit as much as I want. And shit. So up goes the blog.

Now there are three inspirations for what I'm going to do here. First is director Kevin Smith. I spend a little time now and then peeping his shit. One of his things is his blog, My Boring Ass life. It's kind of cooled down now, but if you were to make a book out of it (and he did (and I bought the fucking thing)), it makes for a good read. Most of it is a day-to-day enumeration of watching movies, eating, shitting, boning, etc.... Wanting to produce something where I could talk daily was one of the original motivations for SPD. You know that story.

Then there's fellow blogger, and pain in my ass, Satyavati Devi Dasi. One of the things that kind of surprised me is the friends I found when I got to the blogging, from my first visit to Dee's Conservatism with Heart (where I first found Satyavati, by the way), to every liberal blogger I seemed to stumble across, it's been a rich tapestry of ideas that get flung at me. The non-political shit, of course stays off the political blog. Not here. And considering the length of exchanges we've had (from the politics, religion and philosophy, to the practical necessities of drug addics, the perversions of a thousand pervs, and the minutia of daily life, I think I've already lost assloads of great materials and stories. Not gonna pass that up.

The third comes by way of Satyavati. A blog called Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table. The author of this blog was dead less than two months before I started blogging. She pointed me to this blog last night, which was just spectacular for how it was written, being descriptive, and smooth in storytelling, and a purified use of the word mothafucker. Gotta respect that.

It was after that, and after I dragged my ass to bed with the remnants of a headache (which I beat, but was cursed with the insomnia that a slight doze (interrupted by those kids that were running around, necessitating my waking back up so I could put them to bed) always created) that the idea for this blog popped into my head. Luckily, you can create a blog in less than five minutes, so.....

Now the blog's look will be changing from the time I write this to the next post, because I have just started working on it. And I still have a house to clean. It's become a little more important now, because I have a damned mandatory meeting on Sunday morning, and my mother's coming over. More on her later, but I really don't want to have to hear THAT speech.

Ok, I'm out of here, because I have to get the house cleaned, the kids beaten (for whatever reason) and the blogs fixed up. And that's not counting a parlaying of my copious writing skills into some money, due to the nature of the universe necessitating cash to keep the cable modem on.

Fuck, this was a longer post than I planned on.....