Chunky, phlegmy pieces of blog

Tomorrow! tomorrow! I'll sleep in tomorrow! Snoozing the day awaaaaaay...

SETI@Home's servers are being cunts, so my client is having trouble connecting and uploading my completed work unit. I took a look at the plans for SETI@Home's upcoming year, and they look pretty sweet. Details are available at their site.

True to form, Jerry Lewis' annual Labor Day telethon is on the air, raising money for the Muscular Dystrophy Association. Although this is a morbid thought, I wonder what will MDA do when Lewis is unable to host the telethon. On another note, it appears that Jerry Lewis and John Travolta are slowly morphing into the same person. I wonder if Jerry knows anyone at Qantas?

I had an odd conversation at work yesterday. One of my co-workers, a kindly older woman named Louann, told me she was going to work through her break. After I inquired why, she explained that she's be tempted to snack if she went to the break room, and spending fifteen minutes walking around the shopping mall was out of the question. This didn't make any sense to me... why forgo a paid quarter-hour break when you can escape the beeping of the fitting room door's sensor, even if it is in the crappy break room. After a moment of though, I posed a solution: go outside. After three or four hours of department store interior lighting, the Texas afternoon sun is positively incandescent. Sure it's hot outside (for now, at least), but at least it isn't behind a cash register.

While poking around on Yahoo! Picks, I stumbled upon Urinal.net, a Web site devoted to urinals. I was quite surprised by its thoroughness and the attention paid by the site's authors to their hobby of choice. At least take the time to check out the Top 10 Urinals link while you're there.

This from Boston.com (via FARK): As if Major League Baseball didn't have enough of a bad reputation already, lawyers representing MLB have sent cease-and-desist letters to fans running Web sites (old link removed) devoted to their favorite teams. I guess they hired Disney's attorneys. Oh no! I sure hope an MLB lawyer doesn't see how often I mention that the Texas Rangers suck.

And before I go, here's another random image dug up during a GIS. This time, it's an anonymous Inuit fellow wearing an anorak.

Just a quick post to add a few things I forgot in my last entry...

I wrote an interesting write-up for E2 about Lamson Cash Carriers. I find the concept of sending wooden cups filled with coins hurtling around department stores at 40 mph appealing. I've had a few customers that I wish I could have bopped in the head. Twice.

Some South African gossip columnist has inside information that Britney Spears is into lesbian porno. No, not performing in the you peckers, watching them. And now she's best buddies with porno starlet Jenna Jameson. (The link goes to Jenna's adult web site, so don't even think about using the library's computers to go there, Spanky.)

Today's Trading Spaces on TLC had special importance to me. The fraternity house that was made over (made into... um... something) happens to belong to the Delta Upsilon chapter at the University of California - Berkeley. I feel for my brothers at Cal, as they got screwed. Lime green? If they had worked with the DU colors (sapphire blue and old gold), and didn't paint over the wooden beams and hardwood floors, it would've looked soooo much better. Instead, the DUs got a circus tent. An ugly, nasty (but vibrant!), semiglossy circus tent.

Off to bed I go, now. I need to get some snoozie-pies before work tomorrow. Ugh. Weekend sales make my life painful. I bitch too much.

Damn! That was some pretty good stirfry! After watching a late showing of Blue Crush with Fungushead, I had a craving for stirfry. We made a stop at Albertsons for the necessary ingredients: water chestnuts, bean sprouts, stirfry sauce, a green pepper and fresh garlic. I pulled a pair of recipes off of E2, and combined them into a bastardized amalgam. Tasty.

As for Blue Crush, there isn't much to say. Tasty Michelle Rodriguez and tastier Kate Bosworth. Very tasty.

Even though I've had it for a while, I still get off on showing my green card to people. Well, it's not very green at all -- it's mostly white with some green accents and a shiny, brownish anticounterfeit image on the back. The card also uses microprinting techniques to foil counterfeiters, with tiny images of the state flags and portraits of the presidents (up to and including Bill Clinton). It's the coolest piece of ID I've ever possessed, and much, much more official looking than my old work permit (which resembled a badly-done high school student ID).

And before I go, here's a random JPEG culled from a Google Image Search (GIS). Ladies and gentlemen, I present...Spongehat:

After a long absence...the return of the Friday Five!

1. What's your favorite piece of clothing that you currently own? -- I would have to say my grey hooded sweatshirt (cue Adam Sandler song now). I've had it for two years now, and I'll probably have it for another ten. I had an identical sweatshirt in high school, and I wore the living shit out of it. Eventually, my grandmother had to replace the cuffs and patch a few holes in order to keep the thing in one piece. I had to put the poor thing down in college, though.

2. What piece of clothing do you most want to acquire? -- Good question. I would have to say a replica Winnipeg Blue Bombers jersey, just to remind me of home.

3. What piece of clothing can you not bring yourself to get rid of? Why? -- I would have to say my high school letterman's jacket. It's been abused, and it doesn't fit me anymore, but it holds a number of memories. It was the first major purchase I ever made with my own money. It helped me overcome my shyness in high school. Most importantly, I popped my cherry on it, lying it on the cold, hard concrete of an underground parking lot. I'm sure you didn't need to know that...

4. What piece of clothing do you look your best in? -- This is hard, because I'm not a vain person by nature. I can't say my newest suit, because the tailors did a piss-poor job altering the pants, and they're much too big for me. I looked half decent in my wedding tuxedo, but honestly who doesn't? I'll go with my rugby uniform. When I have my rugby kit on, I look the part... big, mean, melanin-deficient.

5. What has been your biggest fashion accident? -- In my freshman year of college, I had a pair of jeans I refused to part with. They went beyond torn, and veered into the "tattered" stage. The crotch had completely been worn out, and threads and fragments of denim dangled to my kness. But still I wore them, sometimes tieing a flannel shirt around my waist to conceal the damage. I could afford new jeans... I just didn't want to bother replacing the ones I had.

Is it me, or is Kelly Ripa becoming a little bit overexposed? I'm certainly not against seeing a talk show host cutie and her pert boobies on a commercial or two, but it is getting a bit too much for me. Kelly, ease your way into our collective hearts, lest you wind up hated as much as that hellhag, Kathie Lee.

I'm going to switch gears here for a second or two. After reading a bit about the schism between the Anglican Church and the Holy Catholic Church, a few things came to mind. If the laws prohibiting citizens from obeying foreign religious authorities, would Al Qaeda operatives be guilty of praemunires? I'm sure that no such laws are on the books in the United States -- that whole separation of church and state thing -- but versions may be extant in the UK, or other less secular states like Italy.

I'm going to stray back to the VMAs to add a few more offhand comments... Kelly Osbourne seems to have lost a fair bit of weight -- she's not at the "I'd hit it" stage yet, and may never be. Of all the hotties there (and the number was surprisingly low this year), none got me hornier than Sheryl Crow. It's a bit sad when the 40-year old sets more stirring in the bollocks than girls half her age (although, honorable mentions should go out to Shakira, Chilli and Gwen Stefani). I'm proud that Avril Lavigne stuck it out in the rain for two songs, when she could've easily gotten away with playing her big hit and dashing inside for dry clothes. How many times was Ja Rule nominated... twelve? In three categories? (Actually twice, in the same category.)

There's something special about watching a Dallas Cowboys preseason game broadcast in Spanish. I'm never sure what the announcers are saying, but judging from the play and my limited knowledge of the language I can get the jist. The Spanish channel dispenses with the flashy graphics (due to cost restrictions, I'm sure), but has far fewer commercials. Also, in true "machismo" fashion, the sideline cameras leer at the cheerleaders without admonishment of any kind. Oh yeah, there's a five hour tape delay. Nice.

Caramelhead and I sat through almost all of MTV's Video Music Awards (old link removed). Man, what a trainwreck. Bungled intros, horrible interviewing from a usually dependable Kurt Loder and the (potentially) funniest spot with Triumph the Insult Comic Dog was interrupted when Eminem confronted Triumph's handler, Moby and the camera crew. MTV, fearing an ugly incident, cut to commercial. Eminem was booed by one fan when he accepted an award (in the next segment nonetheless). When he threatened the heckler, the whole crowd booed him. What was Michelle Branch wearing? (And why couldn't she take the advice of MTV viewers?) Finally, I doubt I was the only person to start surfing halfway through Guns 'n' Roses' performance. Axl sounded horrible and the band, while sounding reasonably authentic, looked like a bunch of Slipknot/ICP rejects. Not an audicious return, by any means.

God bless TNT -- they're playing True Romance. I love that movie. Give the casting directors kudos, as the movie oozes talent: Aside from the stars (Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette), the movie boasts an incredible supporting cast (Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman, Val Kilmer, Brad Pitt and Bronson Pinchot). The movie also helped a pair of pretty famous actors get their breaks: James Gandolfini (in his second role), Michael Rapaport (in his fourth), Tom Sizemore and Chris Penn. Oh yeah, the movie was written by some fool named Tarantino, before most people knew who he was.

Britney Spears agrees to sing a duet with Tiger Woods at a Montreal strip club. Sort of. Actually, a Montreal DJ impersonating Celine Dion convinced our beloved Ms. Spears to perform at a fictional charity event. I hear she's also going to be teaching Jean Chretien how to dance in Laval and has been booked for a marzipan eating contest in Jonquiere. But I may be wrong...

After my sophomore year of college, I applied for a geology job with the federal government. I was almost hired as a junior geologist, to go tramping around Baffin Island (in Canada's Arctic archipelago) to do a bedrock survey. No go, though. They wanted someone with first-aid and firearms training, both of which I incidentally had. I think it would have been exciting, tramping over the treeless terrain, hauling hundreds of pounds of equipment, preparing camp, cooking meals... Okay, maybe I lucked out.

And just to show I haven't forgotten, here's a semi-random USPTO patent: A method of treatment of hazardous materials with aqueous air foam of polyhydroxy polymer (old link removed). It combines said polymer with an inorganic polyprotic acid salt, a foaming agent, a pH modifier and water to cover liquid wastes, making clean-up quicker and reducing further contamination. For thrills, read the patent's description of the McColl Dump in Orange County, CA.

As early as tomorrow, the turnstiles at major league baseball stadiums may fall silent. ESPN.com's Page2 has compiled a list of the best fan protest signs. Go ahead, vote away!

After hashing things out with Caramelhead, we sat down to watch some TV. Once again, American Idol's viewers voted correctly, tossing Nikki McKibbin tonight. Don't get me wrong, I think Nikki is a cutiepie, but her voice just wasn't as strong as her competitors' voices. You heard it here first, watch Nikki show up posing nude in Playboy in approximately seven or eight months' time. She's hot, and she knows it too (she used to be a stripper). I'd buy that issue, baby.

We also watched the Miss Teen USA pageant briefly. The worst thing about teen pageants is the fact that the contestants are mainly egotistical sixteen-year olds with the mentality of fourteen-year olds, pretending to be mature twenty-year olds. Thankfully, we only caught the last minutes or so, enough to see that the right contestant won.

This semester won't be very challenging... no complex geologies or mineralogies. Just cheeseball history and English classes. Shouldn't be any difficulty...

I've archived the third of the blog archive pages. The process does truncate this page somewhat (which is a good thing if you want that page to load quickly). W00t!

From the "Separated at Birth" files, here are photos of actress Reese Witherspoon (left) and American Idol contestant Kelly Clarkson (right). It's too bad I can't find a good front-on shot of Kelly, because then you can see how similar her jawline is to Reese's trademark profile.

(old image link removed)

I'm sure others have noticied the similarity before, but I haven't found any references online yet...

Random sound bites from buttfuck-early in the morning:
"It's the new Southwest Border Bowl from Taco Bell... Now I don't have to struggle to keep up my monthly payments... just as a flute can turn a small breath of air... Divorce Court continues with the case... In other words, the horses know more than I do... It's a weighty issue... stranded on a desert world... two-run single... comes to the Aussies' rescue... Who's the funny little man... about $250 million in the first quarter... They have so much fun that they forget it's exercise... 90,000 pounds of tomatoes... He ordered without my permission... Hey, yo shorty, what's up... that allow you to increase or decrease the firmness on your side of the bed... cared the least bit what became of me... you double-crossin', four-legged stool pigeon, you... hook to the body, George, hook to the body... The Rangers win it 9-4... with Cheney last night... I've got thirteen lucky horseshoes... Volunteers of America today... if he's coming with jokes, he can persuade me... the uncertainty regarding stock valuation models... with Tito Puente on the next Sunday Jazz Brunch... caught in a trap... moved to seal the entrance..."

I should be going to bed. I'll need my energy tomorrow, for all of the apologizing I forsee myself doing. Ah, so many disappointments...

It's been a shitty day. Don't ask. Well, go ahead and ask. I likely won't tell you anyway.

Here's an interesting site: Don't Link To Us! It links to sites with retarded linking policies. Some prohibit deep links, others require that you get written permission before linking to their sites. Others still prohibit sites with "objectionable" content from linking to them. (I guess that would rule my site out, eh?)

In case you've been wondering what p2p applications I've been using to download my tunes, here's your answer(s): KaZaA and LimeWire. Both have their respective quirks -- for some reason I always upload much more when using LimeWire. Hmm.

Ugh. I ate too much tonight. Damn you Applebee's and your all-you-can-eat riblets. To her credit(?), Fungushead scarfed back more than her share of food. Yay gluttony!

This is a good reason to live. Up the Matildas! (Literally.)

Penney's has a sweet-ass tool set on sale right now. The problem is that I don't need anything in that toolkit... well, almost. Besides the requisite wrenches, screwdrivers, allan keys and sockets (all of which I have), the only tools in the kit that I need are the magnetic, retractable tool fetcher and... um... I forgot the other tool. I guess it isn't that important.

Fucking Tories. Fucking Alliance. Fuck. (old link removed)

Fucking insomnia. I'm not sure if it was the chicken noodle soup or the lemon cake my wife made, but I can't sleep. It could be worse, I suppose. For example, I could live in Wuhan, China. Besides being slightly dirtier than the DFW Metroplex, there's something about living in the wake of a catastrophic flood.

Yes the Rangers still suck, but at least A-Rod's still the man, and the best shortstop in the game today (not a bad feat, considering the number of decent players at that position). On a related note, the date I picked to see my first Rangers game: August 31. Planned strike date (barring an eleventh-hour agreement): August 30.

According to CelebMatch.com, my "most compatible celebrity love" is Natalie Maines (100% compatible) from the Dixie Chicks. I couldn't even get one of the hot Chicks; I had to get Natalie. Granted, it's based solely on our birthdays and biorhythms, so I wouldn't put much credence in its findings. Also on my list were Israeli model Shiraz Tal (99%) and singer Anastacia (97%). The best match I found... Rachael Leigh Cook at 96%.

Caramelhead and I are starting to worry about our apartment complex. Besides the usual problems, new ones seem to pop up regularly. Our craptastic downstairs neighbor has been pretty decent these last few months, but our former next-door neighbors preceded their departure with a month of regular visits from the Haltom City PD to quell domestic disturbances. (We think the problem revolved around a rebellious teenaged daughter, but what do we know.) Lately, weekends see drunks congregate in the parking lot. Of course, these are drunks who don't care how late/early it is when they argue, break beer bottles on the pavement or squeal their tires. Fuckers. We're just a few clotheslines and filthy street urchins away from turning into a tenemental wasteland.

In an update from yesterday's comment on the crumbling infrastructure at Penney's... it was uncomfortably warm in the store today. First the Queen Mum, now this. My blog has psychic powers.

I thought this was cool... several thousand Long Island homes may get wind-generated power (old link removed) in a few years. I'm a huge proponent of aeolian power -- we get our electricity from Green Mountain Energy, which purchases its power from turbines in west Texas.