August 4, 2005 (5:50 p.m. CDT)
My computer problems persist. I'm still getting the assorted BSOD's at inopportune times. (In other words, I haven't had the time or impetus to fix it... yet.) And for a while, Winamp simply refused to work. I tried upgrading, tweaking settings, etc., but it refused to kick out any volume. I tried switching to iTunes as a replacement, but it crashed during install, and now the whole iTunes/QuickTime suite is corrupt. I was getting the same volume problem during playback of various times of video files (using both RealPlayer and Windows Media Player) for a while, too. I can only assume that my new mainboard's proprietary audio drivers were conflicting with... something. But yesterday, Winamp started working again.

I got my best result for a Fark Photoshop contest entry last week. Third place isn't bad, considering the winning entry wasn't a Photoshop work, just a caricature. Anyway, here it is...

Oh yeah, I got a mention here. I regularly read Paul Lukas' columns, and now his blog too. (Thusly, I have added it to the "Blogs worth reading" section at the right.) This marks the second time I have been mentioned in print by an ESPN.com Page 2 columnist. Gregg Easterbrook quoted a comment of mine in his regular Tuesday Morning Quarterback column a few years ago.

Referrals:
"ted koppel" "gin and juice" rap -- "With so much drama on the ABC/It's kinda hard bein Ted k-o-double-p/But I, somehow, some way/Keep comin up with the Nightline shit like every single day" (1st, Google.ca)
kelly clarkson nipple slip -- With knockers that small, how'd you even know? (148th, Yahoo!)

July 7, 2005 (9:10 p.m. CDT)
So, I guess I"ve been gone for a while. True to my m.o., I disappeared for several weeks, only to resurface and beg for your continued readership. Again. So where was I? Chalk it up (this time) to vacation, car problems, house guests, fatherly duties and video games. The only things that change around here are my excuses.

And what's new? I got promoted. We're buying not one, but two new cars. Um... that's about it.

In lieu of real content, here are some referrals:
tiffany singer eighties -- That's funny, I could swear she was only in her thirties. (15th, Dogpile)
pronounciation of schedule -- And now, I pause to remember my tenth grade Computer Awareness class taught by Mr. Dow (and his porn star mustache). I had the fortune to work with class hotties Melanie Moore and Nicky Robertson, but a lot of good that did me. (1st, AltaVista)
dirty mennonite girls -- Ah, Morden and Steinbach, how I have rended apart the plump thighs of your blonde, virginal women. (5th, Google)
"emotional unavailability" -- Sometimes we build up walls to keep ourselfs from getting hurt. And sometimes we raise up these walls to try to persuade the fat chicks to get the fuck out of our bedrooms. (163rd, Google)

May 21, 2005 (4:10 p.m. CDT)
So, I'm sitting here eating leftover empanadas and flautas. And I'm bored. The extended family has run off to Cabela's and Grapevine Mills for some shopping, and I'm left here to puppy-sit. More accurately, I was left behind to sleep in. The puppy-sitting was to be expected.

Eric and I went to see Blondie and the New Cars last weekend. We had stopped by a Ticket remote the previous Thursday and, just prior to scarfing down some (unintentionally) free potato skins and chicken wings, entered the door prize drawing. Eric won the tickets and took me as his date...

Now, Debbie Harry was my first celebrity crush (back when I was a world-aware four-year old). I knew that she had gone to pot when I saw her big belly protruding from a too-tight dress during an appearance on Conan. For her appearance in DFW, she chose something slightly more flattering... a lime green track suit. She sounded good, but the visual of her waving the "heat" emanating from her cooze was a bit disturbing. No, not disturbing... more traumatizing than anything else. The concert, and the 40-something, PDA-friendly lesbian couple in the row ahead of us, was fodder for a number of entries on the Quotes page, though.

Oh yeah, The New Cars sounded great.

More referrals...
narcoleptic necrophiliac -- Ah Dianne, where have you gone... (4th, Google)
"Lincoln Navigator" hesitating -- Why is it that the luxury SUVs always have the greatest number of warranty issues? (5th, MSN)
reform school enema -- Maybe this search is metaphorical, but I hardly think that having one's bowels forcibly expunged would deter them from a life of lurid vice and criminal activity. But that's just me. (60th, AltaVista)

April 30, 2005 (7:36 p.m. CDT)
It's been two weeks since my last post, and as always a have an excuse. About ten or eleven days ago my power supply made its way to the afterlife. I was more than a bit irritated, as bought this case (and power supply) less than a year ago. Plus, I still have to reinstall Windows, as I'm still getting the occasional BSOD.

Another installment of Celebrity Fiction:

Angelenos rejoiced at the unapologetically blunt explanation offered by Rachael Ray. "I don't care if every cardholding food critic lambastes me for saying this," she exclaimed on the Tonight Show. "But Ziffer's Fudge Mamba Bite is the most chocolately, most divine, greatest-ever dessert ever created by human hands. Yumm-freakin-o!" Little did Leno, the studio audience or the jillions of people watching on TV know, but Ray had taken a bribe from the proprietors of Ziffer, Adam Carolla and Magic Johnson. It was only sixteen days later that the world learned Ray's price: a new set of Titleist irons and a custom Burberry golf bag. Who knew Rachael Ray loved golf enough to sell out her credibility so cheaply.

Some of the referrals I missed over the last fortnight...
what is karst depression -- It's when certain limestones go through a period of chemical imbalance resulting in lethargy and a general dissatisfaction with life. (10th, Ask.com)
how do you pronounce pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism -- I'm guessing "sue-doe-sue-doe-hi-poe-payr-ah-thi-royd-iz-im". Or something like that. (4th, Ask.com)

April 16, 2005 (7:52 p.m. CDT)
Once again, the Festival of the Undead Messiah is upon us. We celebrated by going to Wal-Mart! Well, that was only a precursor to our grub-up. My mother whipped up some ribs and a chocolate cake (with homemade fudge sauce) for us to chow down on. Osoaosoaos had to be content with his usual: a bottle of formula. And now my stomach is happily distended... I just need to avoid my own second coming. A walk with Caramelhead should help.

Thunks I Thinked I was Thoughting:
-- Watching Fox 4's Nita Wiggins chirp her way through a badly-packaged set of Rangers highlights this afternoon nearly drove me into a violent state.
-- I need to weed the backyard.
-- In six years, will Katie Holmes wake up from her trance, flip out, leave Tom Cruise and have her career resurrected like Nicole Kidman?

More referrals...
crackwhore quarterly -- Chock full of helpful articles like "Covering up your track marks when visiting Planned Parenthood" and "Nine tips on telling if your trick is the homicidal psychopath who's been cutting out the tracheas of other streetwalkers". And coupons! (29th, Yahoo!)
lauren ambrose voice smoke opera singer -- I'm not sure about the whole smoking thing, but it turns out she is a trained opera singer. Who knew? (17th, Google.co.uk)

April 15, 2005 (12:00 a.m. CDT)
I'd like to send out a few offerings of thanks. First, a big "thank you" to the heavily-pierced Chili's waitress who failed to charge my mother and me for the three slabs of cheesecake we brought home. Thanks to Barry Zito for letting the Rangers creep back into the division race tonight (regardless of whether or not they deserve to be there). Thanks to my man Eric for listing me on the Supporters page for his business, Wildlife on the Move. Thanks are due to the mindless hordes of American Idol viewers who continue to let the walking VFTW highlight reel that is Ace Young hang around. And a sincere thank you to my mother, who continues to go above and beyond the call of grandmotherly duty in helping us out with Osoaosoaos.

Another pair of referrals full of fallacies and untruths:
Avril Lavigne's kindergarten class -- It must hurt to only be in your early twenties and know that you're never going to catch up to the coolest kid in the class. (3rd, Google.ca)
american psycho quote stripper -- Any quote attributed to a peeler that isn't along the lines of "Fifteen dollars a dance, big boy", "Don't let Clem see you touch me" or "There isn't a cock I wouldn't suck for the right amount of money" is likely pure bullshit. (7th, Google)

April 11, 2005 (1:10 a.m. CDT)
I didn't plan on blogging tonight, but Fungushead needs another hour of sleep before I can pass Osoaosoaos on her. Even after my nap this evening, I'm still exhausted after the extremely early wake-up call necessary to meet my ride to the Arboretum today. Plus, my allergies are in fine form, meaning that I have the Ganges flowing from my nostrils. Put together, I have neither the energy nor the desire to make this a later night than what's absolutely needed.

Yes, it's probably too early in the season to pronounce this, but the Rangers suck. Again. The latest debacle is tonight's 5-2 loss to division rivals Los Angeles... er, Anaheim... of Orange County... near Encino... Angels. So what's gone wrong for the hometown club? Well, Texas' ace has looked shaky in his two starts, the number two guy is out for three months, the expected number five guy tied a major league record for homers given up in a single appearance and the team is about to trot out the second starter of the year who I've never heard of prior to last week. Koronka? Bauer? Who are these guys?!> At this point, every weak start from a Rangers hurler equals one more callus that will form on Jon Daniels' hands from the inevitable stroking off of Roger Clemens later this month.

Search engine goodness:
scotch buy safeway -- Ah, the Eighties, when it was perfectly acceptable for a major corporation to propagate racial stereotypes with a line of generic grocery items. And now we're left with the soulless "Safeway Select" line of foodstuffs. (19th, Google)

April 9, 2005 (10:39 p.m. CDT)
A quick blog entry while I'm waiting for The Sopranos to start...

Something I learned this weekend: If you install a new motherboard, make sure you install the drivers for all of the onboard peripherals. I didn't intend on using the integrated sound and ethernet capabilities of my new board, so I just neglected to install the drivers. Little did I know that this would cause IRQ conflicts and repeated BSOD crashes. Problem fixed.

Tomorrow morning, I get to trek across town to the Dallas Arboretum to do some paid community service. After suspending our annual allotment of compensated community service last year, the folks in the big offices have given us the green light again. And, instead of leaving hours on the table like I did last year, I plan to burn them off all at once before they up and disappear again.

Three days' worth of referrals:
titty trollops -- Shouldn't it be "trollop titties"? (10th, aol.co.uk)
playboy picture wisconsin delta upsilon -- Glad to see the Cheesehead brothers are upholding the principles of the fraternity! (9th, Google)
Jennifer Connelly + mechanical horse -- Hey dipshit, it was a mechanical bull. (22th, Google)
keith urban uncircumsized -- "G'day mate, I'm yer mohel. Got any tucker 'ere?" (4th, Google)
orthodox tile kissers -- Nothing says "religious experience" like the taste of grout and caulk. (83th, Google)
foot fetish turkey -- Gobble gobble gee, gobble gobble gedicure. Celebrate Thanksgiving with a sexy pedicure. (7th, Lycos)

April 2, 2005 (3:07 a.m. CDT)
I thought that my life would be relatively spider-free after the probable extermination of the black widow living in my garage. Uh... no. Yesterday, I was fudging around in the backyard and witnessed a small, hairy spider throw itself from my gutter onto the ground below. After it safely landed in the grass, I took a closer look. I wasn't sure if it was a tarantula or a small hairy spider, so I decided to capture it as a specimen for my creepy-crawly expert friend Eric (he of Wildlife on the Move). Thankfully, I still had the Cool Whip container I had prepared for the black widow kicking around, and it put up little resistance. I took it into work this morning for Eric. After a quick description of my new friend's appearance and behavior, Eric identified it as a Daring Jumping Spider (Phidippus audax). Shortly after the capture, another of its kind was spotted hanging around my eavestrough. For now, I'll leave her (?) be.

I got an e-mail today from Laura of Laura Rebecca's Kitchen asking for permission to cite part of my E2 node on Snickers Salad. Laura was researching a dish called Peeps-on-the-Lawn for her cooking site, and stumbled into my node with my mother-in-law's recipe. Seeing as this was the first request respecting my copyrights on any of my nodes, I felt it was appropriate to grant permission. Besides, how many chances does one have to have his work appear on the same blog as the phrase "Bunny peeps suffering from vitiligo"? Any site with tongue-in-cheek mockery of Easter traditions is alright by me! (Later, on a trip to the new Dollar Store nearby, I discovered box of pink chick Peeps coping with the same skin condition. If only they were prepubescent boys, then Michael Jackson could "save" them.)

My prize find at the Dollar Store: My Prison Without Bars by Pete Rose with Rick Hill. For a buck! What are the odds?

Okay, I've already taken cheap shots at Charlie Hustle and Jacko. I should call it quits before I exhaust all of the easy targets...

Tonight's referrals (in Panavision):
shane battier bio ethnicity -- Duke sucks? (7th, Google)
phlegmy -- It's always nice to appear in the top ten search results for a correctly-spelled dictionary word. (3rd, Google.ca)

March 31, 2005 (1:30 a.m. CST)
It's been a while, so here's some Celebrity Fiction for you fleabags.

With the ultramicrofiches safely tucked away in a hidden pocket in his shirt collar, Felipe Massa calmly and confidently exited the building. The tiny plastic film scraping at his neck contained the prototype gearing system that the Sauber-BMW team planned to unveil next season. The fact that he had to suffocate Nick Heidfeld with a pillowcase, break the necks of two security guards and stab a lathe operator in the throat with a seventeen centimetre-long electrode mattered little to him. What was important was that the Ferrari engineers would have time to dissect BMW's blueprints and come up with an equally-efficient transmission by the start of next year's circuit. And as he pulled away in the cherry red Porsche Cayenne he borrowed for the occasion, Massa weighed whether or not he would himself reward himself with another hit when he got back to the hotel suite. "Of course I will," he eventually relented. "But only for a job well done."

I have a day off tomorrow, which means I'll be working on a "honeydew" list for much of my waking time. I hope that I can finally start work on sewing my fugly shirt, with the help of my mother. Much of this hinges on Osoaosoaos and how early I'll be able to drag my carcass out of bed.

And finally, I want to offer my congratulations to Wilmer Valderrama. Not only, as was widely speculated, did he nail Lindsay Lohan, but he also racked up quite the list of conquests, including Ashlee Simpson (ugh), Jennifer Love Hewitt (meh) and Mandy Moore (nice!). Fez even told Howard Stern that he went backdoor on Moore, Lohan and Hewitt and that he slammed the 'VOID' stamp on Moore's V-Card. But has he seen Laura Prepon nekkid, and if he has, could he find a sketch artist and swing by my place?

Tonight's referrals (in Panavision):
nubile lesbians -- Is there any better kind? (8th, Yahoo!)
shepherding squirrels cartoons -- The best part is when the drovers get to use those tiny lassos. (1st, Google)
songs about rain drinking in the car and a brief sexual encounter outside a grocery store -- That's my second-favorite fictional PM Dawn song title, right after "An Ultrasophisticated Commoner On The Slopes of Kilimanjaro As Seen By The Raven". (1st, Google)

March 29, 2006 (1:28 a.m. CST)
We took Osoaosoaos to the pediatrician today to get his two-month shots (diphtheria, tetanus, influenza, etc...), so understandably he's been fussier than usual. Poor guy. From what I've heard, it's always tougher than you expect when it's your baby getting stuck by a series of needles. And it is, but much easier to withstand than the through of burying your child because they were felled by a disease that has been all but wiped out in the first world.

6:30 a.m. is coming faster than I wanted, so it's off to bed with me. Cross your fingers that the thunderstorms that were supposed to roll in last night don't decide to do so tomorrow. At least, not before I haul my tired ass into work.

Tonight's referrals (in Panavision):
"wilmer valderrama" musky -- I can almost taste his little brown pheromones just looking at this referral. And now I'm wondering if Topher Grace's armpits would smell like loamy soil. (1st, Google)
prairie dogg food chain -- Is Randy Jackson opening a bunch of hamburger franchises in the Midwest now? (5th, Ask.com)
picking loganberries -- Someone in Ireland wants to go loganberry picking? (5th, Google.ie)
the ergonomics of a skateboard -- I fail to see how you can make a board more ergonomically-correct. Lumbar supports? (116th, Google.co.uk)

March 27, 2006 (1:35 p.m. CST)
Caramelhead and I took my mother and Osoaosoaos to look at some of the model homes in our development. The first stop was to William Ryan Homes, a builder that just moved into the community. Considering that our development is partway through building up the third phase of three, it's odd that Ryan would suddenly move in a plop down a model home -- it just opened last week -- at this late stage in the game. My suspicion is that Gehan (another one of the builders in the development) has been performing so poorly that the developer had to bring in another company to pick up the slack. After the Ryan house, we stopped by two of the Plantation Homes models. I didn't see much of these, as I was tending to an infant with an upset tummy. I did take advantage of Plantation's interesting choice of coffee table books, explaining the merits of Salvador Dali's "One Second Before Awakening from a Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate" to Osoaosoaos. Conclusion: We like boobies (but for vastly different reasons at the relative stages of our lives).

Thunks I Thinked I was Thoughting:
-- Man, I'm bitter Krispy Kreme stopped making maple iced donuts. Granted, they're not the best I've ever had, but I can still punch back three on a lunch break if I'm so inclined.
-- I'm bitter that Villanova couldn't put together a rally to beat Florida. My bracket is barren like Jennifer Aniston's womb.

Search engine referrals:
"hate argentina" -- But don't we all? Especially the Paraguayans. (2nd, Google Blog Search)
BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA VANESSA -- Which Vanessa? Vanessa Paradis? Vanessa Williams? Vanessa Carlton? Vanessa Redgrave? (13th, Google)
upside doen babies -- Yet another circumstance where Google is my spellchecker. (2nd, Google)
rosehip picking tool -- The only tool I know for picking rosehips is named Edgar. (4th, Google)

March 23, 2006 (9:10 a.m. CST)
So, after I watched my man Kevin Covais get the boot from American Idol last night, Fox's new show UNAN1MOUS came on. The previews I had seen earlier gave me the misconception that it was a one-off reality special, like Fox's legendary train wreck Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire?. But no, they're going to milk this hypebeast for everything they can, so naturally it's a series. The premise is simple (lock a bunch of nutjobs in an underground bunker and make then come to a concensus about who gets a wad of cash), yet manages to feel completely contrived. I turned it off within three minutes. For the record, if I happen to fluke my way onto the cast of "UNAN1MOUSER", my strategy would be to be detached and mute. Now, wouldn't that fuck with the minds of a bunch of Type A Richard Hatch wannabes? Yep.

March 23, 2006 (12:50 a.m. CST)
No real post today, but here's a little something I drew up for the VFTW boards...

Some recent referrals:
where can i learn to mass produce toffee? -- Um, a candy factory? (16th, Ask.com)
charlie sheen shagging driving -- Are we talking about his weekend sporting activities or what he did with Heidi Fleiss' girls in his Lincoln Navigator. (1st, Google.co.uk)
celine clothesline -- After laying the smackdown on Dion, I'd turn my attention to the geriatric spouse of hers who looks like Trapper John, MD. A few piledrivers, a fisherman's suplex and a figure-four leglock later, and his heart wouldn't go on. (1st, Google)

March 21, 2006 (1:43 p.m. CST)
Yes, I'm still alive and no, the venomous arachnid in my garage didn't stck its fangs into me. Maybe it was the blog, but after I mentioned the spider here, it disappeared. Considering the spider web doesn't seem to have broadband access, it's doubtful she read about her imminent capture and found a spider hole (in both the literal and metaphorical senses) in which to hide. More likely, I ran her over with my car or the recycling bin.

So, mi madre has arrived to help us out looking after Osoaosoaos now that Fungushead has gone back to work. Of course, I requested she bring down some junk food from north of the 49th Parallel. Old Dutch Salt & Vinegar potato chips, Wunderbars, Goodhost Iced Tea, Caramilks. No Coffee Crisps or Aeros this time, but I suppose I can't be too fussy...

Today's referrals:
retarded asian -- I once lived down the street from some Burmese guy with Down Syndrome. For a dude with an extra chromosome, he was pretty handsome (if you disregard the rampant drooling problem). Okay, I made that shit up. (8th, Google)
Spartacus with Kirk Douglas fact and OR fiction -- Mostly fact, except the Senators of Rome didn't wear Hush Puppies and Timex watches. (151st, Ask Jeeves)

March 12, 2006 (1:58 a.m. CST)
Two false starts later, this blog entry is finally reaching completion. I started it Thursday while at work. I was just starting to get back into it tonight when Fungushead startled me. Seizing the chance while she was awake, I took the dogs for a quick walk. By the time I got back, Osoaosoaos was awake and hungry. I'm crossing my fingers in hope that he'll sleep long enough for me to finish up here.

I think my crush on Natalie Portman has been rekindled. It's been a while, but she fell out of favor in my daydream mythology. But now, considering her recently-shorn head (for V For Vendetta and her image-deconstructing rap short on last week's SNL, I can't help but to reconsider her, ahem, merits.

Thunks I Thinked I was Thoughting:
-- Is there a version of Dire Straits' "Money For Nothing" currently on the radio where the verse containing the lines "That little faggot's got his own jet airplane/That little faggot's a millionaire" has been edited out?
-- What will Barry Bonds' corpse look like in 400 years?
-- What do you think the chances are that Eminem voted for Dolly Parton's entry in the "Best Original Song" category at the Oscars?
-- At the end of the original Back to the Future, why does Doc Brown both to empty the beer can before tossing it into the Mr. Fusion?

A black widow has set up shop in my garage. This is rather fortunate, as my buddy Eric (of Wildlife on the Move) is about to present an insects and bugs-themed demonstration for the Fort Worth Zoo in the coming weeks. I just need to trap said spider in a plastic margarine container without it sinking its fangs into me. If I post again by Monday, assume this didn't happen.

The latest search engine referrals:
shock collar scrotum -- It must be time for a new season of Fear Factor again. (5th, Google)
"chloroform Kylie " -- And while we're drugging hot Australians, let's get some nitrous oxide for Naomi Watts and Isla Fisher. (2nd, Google.com.tr)
Kate Beckinsale layout codes -- I have a layout for Kate... spread-eagled on my bed with a smile on her sweet, sweet lips and a plunger in her hand. It be more enthused about this scenario if not for the bad boobjob she allegedly got a while back. (90th, Google)

March 7, 2006 (2:36 a.m. CST)
Originally, this was supposed to be a blog entry mostly written at work, but it took on legs of its own and wound up as a Rant. It's about damn time, as I haven't posted a new Rant in a year-and-a-half. To be fair, it's more of a menu than a Rant, but I couldn't care less at this late hour.

I cut my thumb changing the air filter on Crackerjack today. Recently, he's been hesitating when I'm accelerating past 55 mph. It could be any number of things, but the air filter needed to be changed anyway, so it's as good of a place to start as any. Assuming Eric's folks are around, I should be able to borrow their garage next week to change out the fuel filter, oil and spark plugs. And tomorrow I'll be dumping in some long overdue fuel injector cleaner. And to paraphrase Caramelhead, "It'd better fucking work."

Search engine referrals of the day:
victoria jackson comedienne sound clips -- I'll admit it. Back in the day, I had a crush on Vicky. I think it started when she did her gymnastic routine on the Weekend Update desk with a half-perplexed and half-aroused Dennis Miller looking on. (1st, Google)
"clear channel" mildew jean -- While I have no idea who "Jean" is, another layer of mold was added recently when Clear Channel's KDGE dumped the existing morning drive crew in favor of generic yuk monkeys Lex and Terry. And they wonder why I've fled to sports talk radio. (1st, Google)

March 5, 2006 (3:24 p.m. CST)
Today, we'll start off with a few American Idol "falsoids". A falsoid is like a factoid, just based on blatant falsehoods. Most of these were made up earlier this afternoon when I was in a half-asleep state. If they suck, then I reserve the right to blame it on my sleepiness.

• The rubenesque Mandisa's name is actually a corruption of "Man-Diesel". Authorities are split as to whether or not this implies a relation to Shaquille O'Neal or if she is the result of a series of military experiments designed to mate the qualities of 18-wheelers with the human soldier.
• Ryan Seacrest is, in fact, 72-years old. His apparent youth is the result of the diligent work of a team of plastic surgeons, make up artists, hair stylists, doctors administering unhealthy doses of human growth hormone and vitamins, a crazy Slovakian scientist with a hyperbaric chamber and tribal priests leading the entourage in ancient Mayan rituals involving the sacrifice of underachieving contestants. And you thought the Brittenum twins were extradited back east to face forgery charges.
• Last year's winner Carrie Underwood recently signed on for the "Handjobs Across America" charity event. Check local listings.
• Contestant Ace Young listed Mel Torme as his favorite male artist. (Actually, I didn't make that one up. No, seriously, I didn't. Check the frickin' link.)

Let's see what kinds of crap Google threw my way...
had sex with babe laufenberg -- I suppose somebody had to. I mean, Troy Aikman and Michael Irvin's leftovers had to go somewhere. (15th, Google)
pitchers of flying squirrels -- My mouth begins to water at the thought of an arboreal rodent frappe. (1st, Google)
roadsign panties -- I'm thinking of a sign that reads "CONSTRUCTION WORKERS IN G-STRINGS AHEAD". (34th, MSN)

March 1, 2006 (11:05 a.m. CST)
Last week, my fellow employees and I were forced to sit through a "Who Moved My Cheese?" cartoon and training seminar. The mantra of this program seems to be "Change Is Good, Seek It Out" (seemingly without regard to circumstance). During the lecture, I imagined some sleazebag trying to use the "Cheese Defense" to justify cheating on his wife. ("But honey, I need to keep checking out the maze in case my cheese supply runs out. And let's face it, your cheese isn't getting any fresher.") Part of the class was to have each attendee list their "Top 5 Fears". My list, which should be a solid indicator of the seriousness with which I viewed the class, was:

1. Kittens
2. Houeshold appliances
3. Portugal
4. Mariah Carey
5. Dying old, unloved and lonely in a care home, my mind muddled by with the delusions of a senile person

Yes, this was training that can only be described as life altering.

Search engine referrals du jour:
"Gin and Juice"+Japanese+bluegrass -- It's a long way from the LBC to Mt. Fuji. I suppose it helps having a toddy in your hand. Or some bubonic chronic. Or even some bitches from the City of Compton. (6th, Google)
jackrabbits quads -- Why am I picturing John Basedow wearing a Playboy bunny outfit? Man, that dude is creepy. (23rd, Ask Jeeves)

February 28, 2006 (1:58 a.m. CST)
(Ed. note: Most of this entry was written yesterday evening while at work.)

I intended to write this entry over the weekend, but the duties of fatherhood took precedence. Such is life with the literal crybaby. It's a good life if you don't mind some inherent flexibility in your schedule. For me, it's a good life. Schedules are highly overrated, but try explaining that to Caramelhead.

Some thoughts on this year's season of American Idol... Good mix of talent this year, and probably the best set of guys yet. And it looks as if, despite the best efforts of Vote For The Worst, the obvious weaklings in this playground are being quickly dispatched home to Mommy. While I wholeheartedly agreed with VFTW's endorsement of the oafish Bobby Bennett, I tend to disagree that Brenna Gethers is the weakest female. (Although, it is a sad state of affairs when your performance of a pop standard can't even be called the best version ever done on the show. Ah, fond memories of Anwar Robinson.) Let's just say that the rather pornorifically-named (and looking, in "an untouched by narcotics and sexual predators" kind of way) Heather Cox wasn't inspiring me to let my fingers do the walking. In speaking on digital paralysis, VFTW is sticking with Brenna and adding Harry Connick, Jr.'s fluffer, the goofball David Radford.

Some referrals:
opinions + why live near a volcano? -- Maybe you want to be immortalized in ash. Maybe you like the mineral-rich volcanic soil. Or maybe you have a Tom Hanks thing. (9th, Ask Jeeves)
texas rangers lobbying -- I'm lobbying for Roger Clemens, cheaper tickets and bidets. Wish me luck. (24th, Ask Jeeves)

February 14, 2006 (11:32 p.m. CST)
Osoaosoaos is sleeping for now, which means I can sneak away long enough to hammer out a quick blog entry.

I should offer my thanks to my father-in-law Keith, who helped me install a replacement mounting bracket for the driver's seat in my old Grand Prix. After several months of having a rocking chair in my car, it's weird sitting down and feeling a stable backrest behind me. Now, all I need to do is fix my cracked windshield, get the display on my CD player working again and figure out why the dashboard "SECURITY" light won't turn off.

Some random thoughts from the last few days: Why do athletes at the Winter Olympics have cooler nicknames than their summertime counterparts? I wonder when the new Popeyes by my office is opening. Hey Travis Stork (the titular contestant on the current incarnation of "The Bachelor"), Winnipeg isn't that small. I need new music.

Referrals:
potheads semiglossy -- I've worked with may people who would fit this description. (1st, Google.ca)
evan marcus professional goat molester -- Where was I when my high school counselor was handing out the pamphlets for this career path? (1st, Google)

February 12, 2006 (3:06 p.m. CST)
Okay, my Super Bowl picks didn't really pan out. (Although I didn't post it here, I did correctly pick two of the three Rolling Stones songs from halftime.) It's not like I had a huge emotional investment in the game. This, however, may be the first time that every aspect of the Super Bowl was sub-par: the matchup, the trash-talking, the national anthem, the play, the officiating, the coaching, the mid-game entertainment, the commercials. Meh.

One thing about being the father of a newborn that I didn't anticipate: the adjustment of my blogging schedule. Until Osoaosoaos starts staying down for more than a few hours at a time, it may be difficult to average more than a few posts per week. In other words, February and March will be just like every other blog drought that I've dumped on you... albeit with a much more valid excuse this time.

Referrals for a (relatively) cold winter's day:
"soleil moon frye" post nose job -- But what about Tina Yothers' liposuction? Or Wil Wheaton's asslift? (2nd, Google)
"From Justin To Kelly" torrent -- You gotta be fucking kidding me. (14th, Google.ie)
"canine copulation" -- (Insert Polish dogfucking joke here.) (18th, Google.pl)
is it okay to get a massage while on your menstrual cycle -- I suppose, as long as it's not an intrauterine massage. (2nd, Ask Jeeves)
hi-res porcelain veneer -- I'm getting veneers put on my eyeballs. (12th, Yahoo!)

February 3, 2006 (11:49 p.m. CST)
Sorry for the inactivity here. Chalk it up to blog ennui, computer issues, a new game (Civilization IV) and the new son.

Will came a bit earlier than expected, arriving at 10:14 p.m. on January 24 via caesarian section. He weighed in at 7 lbs, 2 oz and was 20" long. Both mother and son are doing well. So far, he's been a great baby. He has Cabbagetits' hair and nose, and my eyes, mouth, chin and misshapen skull. Handsome and strong!

Some quick Super Bowl picks:
Final score: Seahawks 24 - Steelers 9
MVP: Lofa Tatupu
Jerome Bettis rushing yards: 26

January 9, 2006 (12:37 a.m. CST)
I've spent the bulk of the last four hours retooling the archive pages. Where there were nine (plus a year's worth of posts on this page) there are now 21. I cut the file sizes down to a manageable 48k (less than half the size of some of the old archives), which will speed up load times and allow search engine spiders to index the pages in their entirety. Yay me.

Today's referrals!
"Model Shiraz Tal" -- If you believe this site, she likes "playing the fulte"... *my* skin flute. (7th, Google)
did tyrannosaurus and triceratops ever fight each other? -- They have, and I am a witness to the epic struggle. Of course, they were just the Dinobots Slag and Grimlock. It was a battle of ages, nonetheless. (54th, Ask Jeeves)

January 2, 2006 (1:45 a.m. CST)
As Caramelhead and I returned home from our shopping trip -- I was somewhat baffled, both by the number of shoppers and the number of stores open on New Year's Day, but that's another story -- a thick haze hung over the whole city. It wasn't there when we left less than two hours earlier. The wind had picked up from the southwest, and was blowing in smoke from one of a recent spate of wildfires dotting the region. As we later learned, the smoke likely came from a fire only a handful of miles away from the barn where our horse is stabled. Thankfully, it looks like the firefighters in Benbrook have their shit together, and the fires were quickly controlled. 2005 was the fifth-driest year on record, so burn bans are in effect across north Texas. (That didn't stop a few morons from lighting off fireworks one street over from us. As I explained to Caramelhead, common sense isn't necessarily common these days.) Let's hope one of Mother Nature's resolutions was to throw some precipitation our way.

Hash Buster Roll of Honour inductee: balletomane

Capping off a season fraught with injuries, palpitation-inducing finishes, questionable coaching decisions and placekickers with marginal talent, the Cowboys dropped the last game of the year. Just another game where watching it gave you an overwhelming sensation that it was slipping away almost as it began. It's generally a bad thing when Celebrity Fit Club holds more allure.

Oh yeah... Happy New Year!

December 25, 2005 (6:42 p.m. CST)
Some festive Celebrity Fiction!

The yule log snapped in the background as Brooke Shields washed the blood from her hands. The ceremony of sacrifice had gone off without incident and the incantations had been sung beautifully (minus a little wavering from Melissa Gilbert, but that was to be expected from her). Within hours, a spectre of retribution would arise from the brazier, devour the bodies of the coven members for sustenance, and loose a cyclone of destruction on the enemies of the eleven women there gathered. Later that night, the lifeless body of Tom Cruise was found, his 5'6" frame impaled upon a smoking, ebony mammoth tusk.

Oh yeah... Merry Christmas!

Ho ho ho-ferrals!
where to buy kodiak chewing tobacco in new zealand -- Maybe you should have thought about supporting your filthy habit before venturing to another hemisphere. (7th, Google.co.nz)
miniature holstein -- I'm the proud owner of such a beast. Well, almost. It's a rat terrier. (10th, Google)
Johnny Damon + judas + evil empire + playboy bunny -- For the sake of Red Sox fans, let's hope he's as much a Samson as a Judas.

December 23, 2005 (12:34 a.m. CST)
I breezed through roughly half of my remaining Christmas shopping tonight. Oddly enough for this late in the shopping season, breezing is precisely who I did. I hit twelve stores in about two hours, making purchases in half of them. My longest wait was at Target (my first store), but even that was less than four minutes. The two most excruciating -- if I can really use that term -- waits were caused by bungling or chatty clerks and not by the pressing mass of consumer flesh I fully expected. There are three possible explanations: people planned ahead and have finished their shopping, I avoided the angry mobs of shoppers by skipping the major malls in favor of the big boxes or (sadly, the most likely of the scenarios) people feel poorer than they did last Christmas. I, for one, am slightly emptier of pocket than this time last year, but that's a function of buying a house and planning for the arrival of my firstborn (and not because the economy has me ball-gagged and bent over a sawhorse with my trousers bunched up at my shins)...

...which segues into my next topic: Over on Fark, speculation is rampant that Renee Zellweger got her marriage to Kenny Chesney annulled because he likes dudes. Frequent readers of these pages -- all seventeen of you -- should remember that I shared my opinions on Kenny's flamingness back on April 5, 2003 (link goes to the Internet Archive's capture of my blog, scroll down to the April 5th post). The contrarian school of thought is that Renee is, as my friend Kelly once put it, "batshit crazy". Either way, the groundswell of public opinion is behind me, and I stand behind my original assertion from two-and-a-half years ago that Kenny is gayer than Glen Campbell locked inside a distillery for the weekend.

December 21, 2005 (1:49 a.m. CST)
My friend Eric wants me to help boost his wildlife education business' Google ranking, so I said I'd launch a Googlebomb for him. When you're 139 years old, you can only afford so much paid advertising, I suppose.

It's four days until Christmas, so I should start my shopping. Fungushead wants a pair of sneakers. That and books. If only Barnes & Noble stocked sporting goods beside the encyclopedias and spelunking guides. Or maybe Sports Authority could start selling trashy romance novels alongside the barbells and graphite-shaft pitching wedges. Doubtful, which means my shopping excursion will require at least two stops. And two cash register lines. And two parking lots. The thought of it all makes me warm to the image of me jamming a sprig of mistletoe into each and every orifice of some hypothetical argumentative shopper (the likes of which inevitably will clog up *my* line).

Some search engine referrals for the wood stove to keep my toes warm...
tintype + grandmother -- ...and a daguerreotype of your godmother. (128th, Google)
wrap-around quilt harriet carter whre to buy retail store -- Save yourself the trouble and turn up the thermostat. (1st, Yahoo!)
florida norwegian delicacy -- The last I checked, Florida was in North America. (69th, Google)

December 20, 2005 (3:11 a.m. CST)
It was an interesting weekend. My mother-in-law came to visit (a good thing). But Caramelhead's grandmother cancelled her trip down (a bad thing). We got lots of baby shower loot (good thing). But most of it wasn't stuff we requested on our registry (bad thing). I put up some of the Christmas lights (good). But eight "brand new" bulbs are already burnt out, including two of the replacement bulbs (bad). The Cowboys got their collective asses raped by the Washington Redskins (very bad). At least Brett Favre got his ass handed to him in a much more stunningly heartbreaking fashion (good, I guess, except if you're from Wisconsin or Mississippi).

And a few referrals...
selma blair foreskin -- I never knew she had one! (5th, Google.se)
downloadable video curettage periodontal -- Ah, Indonesian dental hygiene. (8th, Google.co.id)

December 3, 2005 (12:59 p.m. CST)
I'm very, very glad this week is over. To be succinct, it's far from a happy day when you finish second out of 30 for a much-deserved promotion. In retrospect, I should have cut Sal's alternator cables.

I'm dedicating this weekend to a few simple pleasures meant to recharge my batteries. (I don't want to go back to work with the same pissy, bitter attitude I had Thursday and yesterday.) Today, I'll watch some football (Texas is up 14-0 over the Buffaloes after a quarter), do some shopping and eat cake. Sunday, I plan to watch more football, shop and eat more cake. Sounds like a plan.

Referrals...
"turquoise Ford Festiva" -- I'll take "Found on the side of the road in Salamanca, NY" for $600, Alex. (1st, Google)
watermelon favorites -- I suppose I'm partial to that short-lived John Ritter show "Hooperman," where he tossed watermelons off buildings to dissuade potential jumpers. (34th, Google)
crackwhore sex -- You know it's going on. And it's not constrained to your out-of-the-way ghettoes, either. It's in the hotel down the parkway. It's in the basement of your neighborhood school's superintendent. It's in Old Widow Jefferson's solarium. And it was on the hood of your Buick Lacrosse last night. (8th, Google.at)

November 25, 2005 (12:25 a.m. CST)
Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. It only fitting that I recap a few of the things I am thankful for (in no specific order):

1. That Caramelhead has weathered the pregnancy superbly so far
2. The fact that Crackerjack (my beleaguered '96 Grand Prix) is still running
3. Quarterly bonuses at work
4. Beer
5. That I no longer have to suffer the imbeciles who manage my old apartment complex

Due to the spouse's poultry-related food issues, we skipped the turkey for supper today. Instead, my father-in-law grilled up London broils for us. Add to that baked potatoes, corn, squash, warm rolls and venison sausage dressing, and you have a pretty satisfying Thanksgiving supper.

Hash Buster Roll of Honour inductee: tantalum

Fucking Cowboys. I think I should get Larry Allen to attack another kicker and put Billy Cundiff's scrawny ass back onto the disabled list. I'm not into poking fresh wounds today, so I'll leave it at that.

Is that a set of referrals in your pocket, or are you just... Oh, they are?
sensual massage reno m2m -- The next time you're in Nevada, you too can have washed up Norwegian pop stars rub out the knots in your hamstrings. (3rd, Google)
"Pillsbury Doughboy" + animation + turd -- Poppin' fresh... into the toilet! (6th, Google)
"kid rock" marinade -- When I think of basting meats, the last guy I think about is the genius who gave us "Bawitdaba". Well, second-last, after Mahatma Gandhi. (6th, Google)
entrancing earlier kindergarten in bc -- Well, if your ADHD pyromaniacal five-year old gets out of line, I suppose they could just hypnotize him... (1st, Google.ca)

November 19, 2005 (2:46 p.m. CST)
Here's to hoping that this weekend comes off as well as the last. Last weekend rocked: an excellent (and cheap!) dinner at Ft. Worth icon Kincaid's, a number of bargains found on our shopping trip, hung some pictures in the hallway, plenty of sleep, a pleasant walk with Caramelhead and the best SNL in almost two seasons. All good!

What is it with me and hard drives? I know that I probably overwork them by leaving my system running 24/7, but the horrible moaning noises are at least a year premature. This means that I should start backing up some things to CD: old e-mails, pics, documents, etc. I suppose I am due for a Windows reinstall, but I'd rather do it on my own terms.

On to some referrals!
wally szczerbiak nude pics -- The first of two athlete searches. I have nothing to add, as little else is funnier than the spelling of "Szczerbiak". (4th, Yahoo!)
keith tkachuk comics -- "It's a werewolf suffering from pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism! It's a zeppelin! It's Gravy-Sucking Pigboy!" (9th, Google)
ask jeeves sucks his mom's cock -- File this one under "That Was Fucking Awesome!" (5th, Google)
juicy cunts octopus -- All I can think about here is Spongebob Squarepants tentacle porn. (7th, Google.co.nz)
necrophiliac quotes -- May I suggest these examples: "I gave up molesting toddlers when I felt the tightness of a butthole with rigor mortis." and "Dead people don't complain about how small my penis is." or even "Abe Vigoda, I never knew you were so flexible!" (3rd, Google.ca)

November 10, 2005 (2:16 a.m. CST)
I made a drawing.

Well, a drawing and a Photoshop (for a Fark.com contest)...

It sits on screens, don't know what it means... -- blandscotsman@hotmail.com

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