November 28, 2003

Cranberry Hell

I despise cranberry sauce, most likely because of early childhood trauma caused by the cran gel. This year we had some homemade cranberry sauce made by Bear's pre-K class. Of course I had to try some as stuff like that is a requirement for maintaining my "A" average as a Dad.

Can you imagine my trepidation? A confirmed cranophobe having to taste cran sauce that was made by a class of 4 year olds? Oh, dear.

But it wasn't bad. In fact it was quite good. Really good. What a difference between homemade with real fruit and that gelatinous mass I have been exposed to for my first 34 years. I actually ate it and enjoyed it.

I have a strong suspicion that if we were still in Buffalo, Bear's class would not have made their own cranberry sauce. 2 more points for Georgia.

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November 24, 2003

Y'all say "Hi" to my Lovely Wife

Everybody, this is Lovely Wife. Lovely Wife, this is everybody.

I finally exposed myself to her over the weekend. No, not that way - I do that on a hourly regular basis. I mean I finally gave up on trying to get the blog exactly the way I wanted it before inviting her in. Being anal retentive as I am I realized that I could be facing retirement before I actually get it "just right". And besides, if I can't show some warts to my wife who can I show them to? And more importantly, would that person pay me anything for a wart showing?

Anyway, she loves the blog and my near godliness has been reinforced in her eyes. Hopefully she'll be a regular reader and commenter. Who knows? Maybe I'll even get her to start her own weblog eventually.

Everyboy say "hi" now and welcome my sweet baby to the wide world of weblogging.

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November 21, 2003

Dangerous Notes

I usually have a lot going on but only part of my brain engaged on whatever I'm doing. My stream of conciousness has a lot of creeks branching off. Now Dopple-G is another story. Instead of a stream of conciousness he has a white water rapids. But I digress.

To make sure that I don't forget any of these thought streams before I've had a chance to explore them I leave myself notes. I have a post-it note dispenser on my desk at home. At work I have a steno pad. There's a dry erase board on my refrigerator. I've got an Ideas.txt file on my desktop. I leave notes all over, like rabbit droppings. Hey, good analogy there - we'll call them "thought nuggets".

The dry erase board gave me a pause this morning. I haven't cleaned the ideas off of it in a while so it has accumulated a little pile of nuggets. I had also used it to put down some recipe parts while I was cooking. The end result is peculiar to say the least:

Solar powered kids
325 degrees
10 to 12 minutes
If they aren't screaming, you're not doing it right.

Sounds like a recipe out of The Hansel & Grettle Cookbook. I better get that cleared off before Mom flies down. Sheesh.

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November 20, 2003

What were they thinking?

Don't you think that somewhere in the design and manufacturing process, someone who had a finger on this from the original conceptual artist to the engineers to the mold crafters to the manufacturer to the last guy who tightened a screw, somebody would have caught enough of a clue to step back and say "What the FUCK!?" more...

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November 19, 2003

Company X Blows Fat Monkeys

The news is in and it's not of the happy variety. Our Everyday Stranger has been cut in a round of layoffs by Company X. Go visit Helen and leave some love.

Makes me glad that I don't have a phone from a certain large Swedish telecomunications company.

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November 18, 2003

Jim Gets Offensive

I'm going to offend some people with this post. I'll probably get some hate mail and some harsh comments and may even lose some regular readers. That sucks but it's also the way of the world. If you have an opinion there are going to be people who disagree with it. If you can state it in an obsequious manner you'll probably do okay. People will line up to defend a timid speaker. Be nice, they'll say. He's wrong but it's because he's confused. Explain it to him in simple terms and you'll see that he's not truly evil. If, however, you happen to be the sort of person who states his opinion in a raw and coldhearted fashion then you'll piss off many folks. Even some who might ordinarily support your position. Can you guess which one I am? Let's begin:

Midgets Need To Get Their Heads Out of Their Asses

I saw a special presentation about an operation that little people(TM) can undergo in order to get taller. It involves implanting an external metal brace into the long bones of the legs. The bones are broken and separated. The bracing is then continuously lengthened. The healing process of the broken bones causes them to grow towards each other. As the gap of the break is consistently maintained the effect is a gradual lengthening of the legs.

It's painful. It takes a long time. It's good for only a couple of inches. There are many post-procedure problems including weakened bones, arthritis, bone and muscle pain. Sense of balance is seriously compromised and the patient is clumsy and awkward for quite some time.

One of the patients who was interviewed told of all of these problems but dismissed them as negligible. You see, he can now do things like drive an unmodified car. He can ride on a roller coaster. He uses the cupboards at his apartment. In fact his only regret about having the procedure is that he is now an outcast from his community. You see, those jokes on Seinfeld about little people(tm) "heightening" weren't jokes. It really is viewed as a serious breach of etiquette to wear tall shoes or otherwise compensate for (lack of) height. Having this operation makes a little person an outcast from the little person community.

This leads to an obvious question which I will direct to the little community at large:

How do you get such an oversized head so firmly implanted in your anal sphincter? Come the fuck on! It's a birth defect. It is not normal to be a midget/dwarf/little fellow. It is neither amoral or foolish for somebody with a birth defect to use devices and procedures to overcome that defect. Should somebody born with one arm forgo a prosthetic one? If I had a procedure that cured Downs Syndrome do you think that all of the Downs' afflicted out there would rally to attack a person who went through that procedure because they wanted to be normal?

YOU ARE NOT NORMAL. Get it through your skulls. I'm not saying that you should be ashamed of being small. I'm saying that you shouldn't be carrying around a chip on your vertically challenged shoulder because of it. It's a birth defect, a freak happening of nature, one of the more common of literally thousands of documented and understood genetic mishaps. It should not be either a badge of honor or a Sysephean burden.

If you have a chance to correct it then do so! And if you are so wrapped up in a communal pity party that you can't bear the thought of fixing what's wrong with you then at least have the fucking courtesy to support somebody with the courage to do so himself. The way that guy was treated, the exposure of the intollerance and antagonism in the little community, was sickening. He showed bravery and courage, going through a painful procedure in order to make his life better, already knowing that his friends would turn on him. He didn't deserve the way he was treated and to be quite frank those "friends" certainly didn't deserve him.

Fire away.

UPDATE: I wrote this quite a while ago and never posted it. Generally I try not to post things when I'm pissed about the subject. A decent rant is fine but when I'm very irritated I tend to get more insulting than descriptive so a "Jim is pissed" post generally won't do anything constructive. I figured that I would let it sit and revisit it, edit it in a calm voice and then post it. It ended up getting lost and forgotten until yesterday. I looked it over with the intent of editing out the more inflammatory insults and profanity but have decided to present it as-is instead. It's not as overwhelmingly antagonistic as I thought when I first wrote it and the anger the subject raised in me back then has been fairly well rekindled by rereading it.

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November 17, 2003

The Sound of Silence

Nothing much coming from here today. I'm busier than a Bangkok whore with the 6th fleet in port. I'll give you a teaser though. Another short story is percolating through my gray matter. What will it be? Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy? Maybe some more porn? Find out tomorrow, or whenever it's finished brewing. The biggest problem with it right now is there are 3 endings and I can't pick which one I like best. Maybe I'll give you all three.

Oh, wait. I do have something quick to share. Captain Corelli's Mandolin was a decent movie destroyed by two things. The first was Nicolas Cage. Sorry, but he can never ever play a romantic lead. No matter what the character is supposed to portray you will never escape the image of Cage in Raising Arizona. And what was with that accent? He either got it from an intense one week session with a voice coach in the Bronx or from watching too many Olive Garden commercials. The second problem was the normally spectacular John Hurt who was almost but not quite completely unlike Roddy McDowell a Greek provincial doctor.

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November 14, 2003

The most important thing to remember when you are on a multiple antibiotic regimen

DO NOT FART!

There is absolutely no guarantee that it is gas that you will pass. Immodium is your friend. No, more than that, it is your lifeline.

Given my abhorrence of the crappers here at work and my current state of being on antibiotics I am trapped in my own peculiar little hell. Any time I have the bowel urge I must assume that bad things are happening, no matter how much it feels like plain old gas. This means that any time I wish to feel gastric comfort I have to truck into the ol' shitter, whip out a paper ass gasget and alight upon the ceramic throne.

This is all because of the Paris Hilton gag, isn't it God?

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No Woman No Cry

Helen has a beautiful post this morning about a simple little thing that made a huge difference in her life.

I've got a similar story. After the worst breakup of my life I was in very sorry shape. I won't get into the gory details but it was so bad that Captain Responsibility (that's me) lost his license for driving drunk during this period. I started replacing food with alcohol and things were deteriorating rapidly. Get up in the morning, have a beer, go to work, come home, drink until sleep comes. Basically just plodding on though a semblance of my former life through inertia and not having any clue what else to do.

One day after work I flipped on the radio, grabbed a beer and sat down to start drinking. The song that was playing was "No woman no cry" by Bob Marley, a song I'd heard many, many times before but never really listened to. This time I heard it and listened to the lyrics, the drum, Bob's voice. I got it. Bob was telling me "Everything's gonna be alright". I dug through my CD's, got out Legend and played that song in a loop the rest of the night.

And I stopped drinking like an ass. I finished that open beer of course, I'm an alconomist after all. But I ordered a pizza for dinner instead of finishing off the case. I still remember that pizza, it was the fucking best tasting pizza I'd ever had in my life. First actual food I'd eaten in I don't know how long.

And I called my Mom. I basically hadn't spoken with anybody in weeks. They'd called but I'm an expert in avoidance. I also have a black belt in not-being-part-of-the-conversation-when-you-think-we-are-conversing-itsu. I hadn't spoken with Mom in even longer. I love her like you wouldn't believe but she's a nut and can be very trying to speak with. I'd been avoiding her for a while.

I called a bunch of other people too. My best friend E, who had been trying to get me out of the house for weeks. Made dinner arangements for later in the week with him. I called Doppel-G (he was down in Georgia by this time). I think he knew something wierd was going on but he didn't press, just talked about everyday stuff for a while. I think I even tried to call Lil Bro but I can't remember for sure.

After that night I put my life back together. Very quickly I might add so I guess I had caught it in time before I hit the big cusp. Basically all I had to do was get back into civilization, turn on the afterburners at work for a while to catch up and (most importantly) stop getting drunk every night.

Now whenever I hear that song and it gets to the "Everything's gonna be alright" part I get a tickle in the back of my throat, my eyes water and I have to fight hard not to cry. And sometimes, when I need it, I play that song and I don't fight the tears.

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November 13, 2003

The Day of Nonproductivity Draws to a Close

Lousy day for this blog, sorry. The thing with my entry being held out of the Carnival had me up stewing much of the night and much of today was spent following up on the multiple conversation threads dealing with it. On the plus side the censorship controversy brought quite a few visitors to see the post, almost guaranteed that it was more than would have come just from it being in the Carnival.

Much thanks to all of the people who supported me and argued on my behalf. Especially Ilyka, who was like a rabid bull terrier today. I can't express how much I appreciate your help.

Tomorrow - good stuff. I promise.

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November 12, 2003

Censored Dreams

I wasn't left out of the latest Carnival accidentally after all. I was straight out censored.

That was a personal call based on the nature of your post. I do apologize if you feel slighted, but it was just my preference not to add that one particular post.

-Max

The post I submitted was The Somnolence of Clouds. This is my erotic vignette from a few days ago. It was well received in comments and email.

Do I feel slighted at being censored? Yeah, I do. It's pretty easy to just note that the post is erotic fiction in the Carnival description. That's the actual description I submitted it with, after all.

People who want to go there do so. People who don't, don't. Same as somebody sick of the metrosexual meme wouldn't go to Andrew's post based on the description that was put with his link.

Christianity is a thought crime. That's an okay topic. The Pussified Toit thing? Also okay. Bush, France, Iraq. All okay.

The only censored item is an erotic vignette. A piece of tittilating fiction. War, death, politics, sexuality, religion are all valid but my well written story is not.

I'm more than slighted. I'm pissed.

Posted by: Jim at 11:30 PM | Comments (37) | Add Comment
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It's New and Improved!

No it isn't, you jackass! If it's new then there wasn't a previous substandard product that needed improving. In order for something to be improved you have to start with an unimproved item. That old unimproved item might have been new but just making it better does not magically erase the fact that it was already there previously.

You cannot have something that is both NEW and IMPROVED.

[/rant]

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November 11, 2003

Today's Getting Better

Michele's post cheered me up quite a bit and I just got an email from the Pres that has put a big smile on my face.

I did not know until this afternoon that you were a veteran and just wanted to pass along my thanks for having served.

That's the President of my company, of course, not Dubya.

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November 07, 2003

I'll be in bed. Hold my calls.

The sickness that is rampaging through the household for the past week and a half has finally beaten me down into a pulp. I'm home today and won't be blogging much, if at all. The worst part is that Lovely Wife is coming off of her own sickness so can't get into full nurturing mode. What's the sense of being sick if you can't get babied by your wife? Ah, well. Such is life.

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November 06, 2003

Hey there, Doppel-G

A surge of support has carried Doppel-G to a strong victory in the poll, therefore the illustrious G shall furthermore be known as Doppel-G in these hallowed halls.

Thank you for your support and participation. I thank you, Munuviana thanks you, and most importantly Doppel-G thanks you.

Final poll results were:
Moondoggie (22)
Doppel-G (26)
G-Whiz (6)
G-Muse (4)

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November 05, 2003

And the Winner Is...

Undecided. The poll for G's new name is tied at 21 votes apiece for Moondoggie and Dopple-G. The polls shall remain open until tomorrow morning! So it is said, so it shall be.

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Happy Birthday, Dopple-G Moondog

Today is G's 30'th birth anniversary! That's right, he's now a man. As an extra special present, his new nickname will be awarded today. The poll is very tight with only one vote separating the top contenders. Your vote could be the difference!

And remember, we're using Chicago voting rules. Already voted? Vote again! Because if you're willing to press a button twice then I care twice as much about your opinion as everybody elses.

Vote soon as the poll will close an some unpredictable time today (basically, whenever I get the time to edit the blog template to remove it).

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November 03, 2003

It's the sound of silence

Can you hear the crickets?

Sorry, no truths of life or amusing anecdotes today. I spent the morning getting a tire fixed. The same tire that was replaced two weeks ago. Actually that's not exactly true. I took the morning off so I could get the tire fixed and ended up sleeping in. It went something like this:

Eyes open.
Look at clock.
Clock says 6:30.
Thought processed begin.
"Great. It's 6:30. I can get up, have a relaxing cup of coffee, blog a bit, shower and still be at the tire place when they open. Isn't that great?"
Thought processes refine.
"I took a half day off. If I do all of that then I'll still be at work fairly early but not early enough to not take a half day off."
Thought processes crystalize.
"Screw it."
Eyes close.
Sleep resumes.

So I slept in late and boy was it freaking awesome. No sleep feels as good as naughty sleep. But the end result is I'm at work with a day's worth of work to do in half a day. Come on now, y'all know that you don't actually get time off when you take time off. Compounding this is a company meeting that starts in 10 minutes that will take about half of my half day leaving me one quarter of a day to do a day's work.

Net result, the 80% of my brain that is usually reserved for tracking absurdities and formulating humorous anecdotes out of the ridiculousness of life has been hijacked for actual rational thought. Bummer.

But while you wait in vain for something amusing to be issued on these pages, a wait doomed to result in heartbreak I might add, you can send an email to Jen for my upcoming interview. Don't you have something that you've always wanted to ask me but were afraid to posit for fear of my maniacal retribution? Now's your chance.

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November 02, 2003

Bounce bounce bounce

Bacon is watching Lilo & Stitch. From the walls and ceilings that he is bouncing off of. In other words, he's feeling pretty good and is amped on steroids and whatever other crap is in his medicine.

Got the call from Lovely Wife a bit after 3:00, carried the two sleeping babes to the family truckster and went to pick up the lost family members. We were back home and in bed finally by 3:30.

Lovely Wife has taken the other two out to do some errands to give our little sicko some peace. Not that he seems to want any, of course. He sounds like a harbor seal but he's in hyperactive mode. Kids - you just can't keep 'em down.

Daddys, on the other hand, are easy to keep down. Make em stay awake half the night worrying and then wake em up early. I'm wondering how early I can put the troops to bed tonight so I can sneak off to my own repose.

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Gotta Stay Awake

1:30 AM on a Saturday night. I haven't seen many of these over the past couple of years. Unfortunately most of the ones I have seen have been because of stuff like tonight.

Bacon is at the hospital, taken there by an ambulance. Lovely Wife is with him while I stay here with the other two boys. They're sleeping, which is both expected and the reason I'm here instead of all of us being there. It's a disadvantage though because if they were making some noise it would be easier to stay awake.

Lovely Wife called just a little bit ago. Bacon is doing fine. He has a nasty case of croup. Before we called the ambulance he was struggling to take any breath at all. Very scary.

But like I said, he's doing okay now. Not great but not in danger. He's in a hospital, after all. He's getting a steroid inhalation treatment and then he'll need to be there for a couple hours to be monitored. He should do okay after the treatment. If not, they might be there for quite a while.

Drinking coffee and playing Snood to keep awake. Hey, my normal bedtime is 9:00 PM. This is LATE for me.

And there's one of the boys crying now. Good - gives me something to do besides fret.

Posted by: Jim at 01:38 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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