Best Imitation of Myself
Sorry I put this one off, but at least I had a legitimate reason. I wanted today's entry to encompass the 4th of July celebrations, so as I wouldn't forget the details until next week.
As of I don't know exactly when, I've become addicted to Wikipedia. Think of it as Microsoft Encarta, sans Microsuck, and it's open source, so it has articles on even the most obscure topics. The best part being you can add your own if you feel so inclined. It rocks hard, so use [Wikipedia
] for all your research needs.
My addiction to this thing has lead me on trails of reserch about the Icelandic Election Process, DC Comics Crisis on Infinate Earths
, Special Realitivity, the 'Toy' breed of dogs, and Ice Type Pokemon. Indeed, Wikipedia is both good and evil.
Bill Clinton's book came out a few days ago. All I really have to say is that I adore Bill Clinton. I don't see why republicans are so mad at him. If you can manage to get past the whole scandal thing (which you should, lest you appear an immature fuckhead), he really was a great president. He had one of the best fiscal terms ever, in terms of money we didn't spend... but then again Al Gore did
try not to fuck up the environment that much, and Clinton did attempt to help
the middle east peace process...
Both items which conservatives would be against, for reasons obvious to them alone.
Speaking of things that conservatives hate, let's all sit around and talk about Michael Moore for a little bit. Everyone seems to have an opinion on this guy, even me. I say I like him. Right or wrong he has a belief that he stood up for and made heard, and you have to respect that. All the bullshit aside, that's what it really boils down to.
In any case, he new movie Fahrenheit 9/11
just came out, and I went to see it. Amid bashing the Bush Administration and subsequent cabinet, the PATRIOT Act, and just general liberal ranting, he had in there a clip from everyone's favorite corporate juggernaut, Halliburton. The clip was flashing random scenes from the war in Iraq, and one of them (though I question it's purpose in the motivational video) was of an explosion in the background, as camels walked around in front of the camera.
A little flag went up in my head when I saw that... It was somehow, familar. Then suddenly, it hit me! That same image had appeared in the tabloid Lizz and I had bought weeks earlier. The particular article was about 'Suicide Camels' and how they were being smuggled into the country and tethered at strategic places, and they would be our greatest downfall blah blah blah. Standard tabloid trash.
The weird thing being, you've got to wonder: Which came first? The article or the picture? They could have just as easily found that picture, and just bullshitted the article; the converse being they could have made up the article, and just found a picture that fit the description. It got me to thinking, of the small percentage that saw Fahrenheit 9/11 and
read that tabloid, did any of them but me actually notice? It boggles the mind.
I was getting dressed the other day (after I woke up from sleeping, not after having sex) and I was trying to put on my pants, and I fell flat on my ass. I just sat there, confused, troubled... how had I failed at this task that was oh so totally familiar? Then it dawned on me: I'd started with the wrong leg. I'd put my left leg into the pants first, and tried to follow it with my right. The result being I got off balance and fell over.
Interested to see if this was truly the cause, I tried again to put them on, this time the standard way, right leg first. The pants slipped on just as well as one can slip on pants. How weird is that? Go ahead, take off your pants, then try to put them back on with the non-typical-pant-leg. Maybe I'm just lame, but it's harder one way and easier the other. The question I put to you then is this: Which leg do you do first? Right or left?
The other day I was working on a new screenplay that I think is going to be really interesting. While I was sitting there writing, my sister decided she felt like making a smoothie-type drink. Unfortunatly, she couldn't find the blender. Not to be foiled, she got out the meat shredder, a similar, but alltogether different device. She sliced the fuit, and put it all in this giant opaque orange tupperwere cup. I go back to writing for a brief moment, when I look up and see her shaking it.
Frustrated by my sister's lack of assertion in shaking the mixture, I grab it from her, and shake the hell out of it. As I'm shaking, I start to feel pressure on the top of the lid... this was followed a mere second later by the entire container exploding onto my shirt. It looked like an animal had flown into me and just died in a fleshy form of combustion. Turns out that as I glaced away, she added an entire can of soda pop.
If you aren't seeing where this is going, soda pop is carbonated. By my vigorous shaking, the carbon was released rapidly. The container, being sealed, contained this pressure until it reached a point where the pressure was equal (and subsequently greater) than that of the seal on the lid. Consequently, the lid was forced off, and I was covered in a mixture resembling detonated bird. Welcome to my life. (As an off-note: we still haven't been able to get all of this crap off the floor, so if you want to piss a janitor off, you know what to do.)
I've had this toy now for a good long while, it's called a 'Pocket Pikachu'. Remember Tomagatchi and GigaPets and all that crap? Pocket Pikachu is sorta like that, except way better. I remember way back when, everyone was worried about how big their creature was, how much to feed it, whether it was dead or not... Me and Pikachu never had these problems.
The way it works is you clip it onto your belt and it measures the number of steps you take with an internal pedometer. For every 20 steps it registers, it awards you a single 'watt', yes, as in the unit of electricity. These are meant to be given to Pikachu as a gift, which makes him happy, or you can use them in a slot machine game to win more watts, which make for more presents, etc.
In any case, this thing kicked ass. You never had to feed it, walk it, clean up after it's messes, all you had to do was shock it every once in a while. And instead of growing bigger, he just becomes more of your friend. This allows you to watch him do different stuff like going to school, playing the piano, and eventually hang-gliding. I got this a few years ago, and every summer I'd turn it on to find Pikachu pissed as hell that I'd ignored him all throughout the school year. I'd give him a thousand watts or so, and we'd get back on track.
The summer would then be spent making amends, and getting to be friends with Pikachu again... saddly though only to encounter the inevitable school year, and have to put him aside for another 8 months, and therein the cycle would merely continue to perpetuate itself. This summer was no different, until about a week ago. I was sitting in the parking lot of Blockbuster, having just returned 2001: A Space Odyssey
, a most excellent film, when I heard this creepy little beeping anthem come from Pikachu. I pull him off my belt, and find a little message on the screen:
Congradulations! You've Reached 1 Million Steps!
Record: 9999 Hours
And that was it. Just like that, Pikachu picked up and left. I couldn't get out of that screen... Pikachu had left me without even saying goodbye. I was momentarily stricken in the Blockbuster Parking Lot, because this cut me deep. I also had 4,000 watts stored up for next summer, which would have made the reuniting process much less painful, and now it was all gone. I know all good things must come to an end... but geez. This was just a little harsh.
Today I pushed the 'Reset' button on Pikachu, and I'll admit it wasn't easy to let go, but it's good to have another Pikachu back. I'll train him over the next couple of years, and he'll grow up and go away too, and then I'll start again. Who needs kids when you've got Pikachus?
Lizz and I were down at this little triangle park by my house the other day, just sitting there, watching the cars on warnall road go by and stuff, and suddenly I see someone in the bushes behind us. Thinking perhaps there were enemies afoot, I jumped into my ninja stance, ready to kick ass in the name of kicking ass. Come to find that when this mysterious foe revealed herself, she was no foe at all, but a Maddeline Burkart! With her was the illustrious Adam Meyers, and they were in my lands on a quest for the reveared Emily Levitt.
After the usual hello's though, I exclaimed some random profanity. To explain myself, I pointed to the base of a nearby tree. Laying there on the ground was this picture of this... woman. Mind you, this was no ordinary picture, nor was this any ordinary woman. The picture was giant
(like 3 feet by a foot and a half) and framed, no less. And the woman... well, she was scary. Her hair was all frizzed up 80's style, but she kinda had a "white trash" thing going on as well.
We took the picture and threw it in Adam's car, and went and showed it to Emily. Upon getting it out of the car, we also noticed that the glass was cracked in many places. As near as we could figure, this was some chick who had dumped her husband of 20 years (hence the 80's hair), and the guy, he had gotten pissed and thrown the centerpiece of his shrine to her out of his car during some midnight rampage. We gave her a name, but I don't remember it, so for the sake of records, let's call her Bertha.
I'd go off on my usual unfulfilled promise about getting a scan of this... but that's kindof somewhere near impossible, so you'll just have to use your imaginations or track Adam down if you want a look at Bertha.
Later on that night we were at Chubby's, and I was ordering my burger, and I realized I wanted it without onions, because I can't stand the consistancy. I asked the guy when everyone else was done ordering if I could get my buger sans onions.fuck
I felt like such A) a prick, becasue the guy had no idea what I was talking about, so I had to explain, and he probably went back into the kitchen and told all his Chubby-Employed friends about the smartass little prick who used pretentious language in an effort to make fun of him... and B) a complete dork, because who the hell
says 'sans' when ordering food?! Geez. When will I learn?
In other news, the blog's 2 year birthday is coming up, in 19 days actually. It's hard to believe I started this accursed endeverador almost 730 days ago. In any case though, it's very timely that Annie The Muffin Girl chose now to track me down. Way, way back when I was still on Blogger, I somehow found her blog and found it interesting. We got to talking by one means or another, and became affiliates. We then fell out of contact, and I forgot to re-add her link during an overhaul of my blogger page, so her blog was something I had long since forgotten.
However, she somehow managed to track me down here, on the new domain. She left comments on the past 2 entries, and her site is titled [Annie is the Muffin Girl
]. It isn't exactly the kind of thing I look for and read with any sense of regualrity, but it's definatly something different from the standard bullshit you find on blogs these days, so I recommend taking a look... if for nothing else but a new perspective.
(And typically I wouldn't have even mentioned this, but Annie left me no means by which to contact her, so while I enjoyed telling you all this story, the main point was that Annie, if you're reading this, please send me your e-mail to [OutlawOnline@Yahoo.ca
] so we can catch up on old times and all that crap.)
Speaking of the 2 year aniversery coming up, I had this thought in my mind that I should change the layout. We've had this setup for almost a year now, as it came about during the LandingClouds switch. It didn't change when we came over to the domain, so I figured this would be as good of a time as any... but you know what? I like this layout a lot. It works surprisingly well in a vast number of browsers, and I've yet to have any reported difficulties.
To make a new layout would involved me coding a new base page from scratch, and completely rebuilding the all the greymatter templates. And while I do love the power that comes with knowing HTML and CSS, I just don't think it'd be worth the effort. I've got no ideas particularly better than what you see now, so it would be stupid to change it. I'll probably get around to building a new layout at some point, but I see no reason to do so now.
I was sitting at home last week, watching Rocky IV with my dad and sister, and boy does that movie kick ass. Rock fights the commies in it, and wins over their minds and hearts and gives this modivational speech at the end, it was great in a cheesy sort of way. During one of the commercial breaks, the doorbell rings. I answer it and standing on my front porch are Mindy and Brigid.
Why they were at my house was just as suprising as the fact that they were there in the first place (I'm a long way from their neck of the woods). They were there for my boxer shorts. Not all of them actually, just one pair, but still. It was explained to me that they were competing in a scavenger hunt against Lizz and Caitlin, and that my undergarmets were one of the items on the list. In a rather dazed stupor, I went upstairs and got a clean pair of shorts for them. They left, and I walked back in to see the end of Rocky IV, simply wondering how I manage to get myself into these situations.
20 minutes later, as the credits of Rocky IV are rolling, the doorbell rings again. I hand the second pair of shorts over to Lizz and Caitlin. As they're walking away, they ask me what the quickest way to Miege is... Somehow from there I got suckered into going with them, and showing them the shortest way through Mission Hills. From there we had a blitzkreig of vandalism, hair dying, and speeding, ultimatly leading us to Wallgreens, as in the drugstore. Again... I've got to ask myself "Why don't you just have normal friends?"
The answer being:
Because that would be boring as hell, and suck mondo, so weird friends it is. *cheers*
About now I'm wondering why I needed the 4th of july to make this entry complete, and I'm now realizing how long this thing is and that I didn't, but whatever. Onward!
Saturday I was sitting in Taco Bell, eating by myself. No one was at my house, and my parents had given me money. I couldn't find anyone for company, so I went by myself. It was a surreal experience, sitting there: My taco tasted like dirt, and though the quesadia was much better my Dr. Pepper still went flat quickly. I was reading a book from the Chronicles of Narnia, which are kids books, but I still enjoy them. Right then though, I was at the beginning of the crappy one about the boat that even as a kid bored me to tears. The shitty raegae music was being piped in through blown-out speakers, and it was right then I realized I could never work in one of these places.
I'd go crazy. On my way out I left a quarter in the little machines that you get plastic rings and gumballs out of, you know, because somebody else is going to walk in there, and get a free plastic ring or gumball, and be really happy for at least a few seconds. The lady sitting across from the machines gave me a strange look, but I didn't care. Somewhere out there somebody got a free plastic ring or gumball, and was really happy for at least 4 seconds. Knowing that gives me a kinda happy feeling, on some weird level.
Finally we come to the 4th of July. As promised, I returned once more to the abode of the DeSeure's. With me as well were Ethan, April, Lizz, and Kate. The day was filled with explosions, the most notable of which follow: There was watermelon at the food portion of the party, so we heisted half of one, hollowed it out, then dried it paper towels. Then we piled explosions underneath it and lit them and ran. Lesson Learned: Watermelons are suprisingly resilliant. The process was repeated, but to no avail. We simply succeeded at blackening the watermelon.
We repeated a similar process with some box Lizz and I found on the side of the road the other day. We successfully blew multiple holes in that thing, and then there were the fireworks designed to look pretty, which are always nice, and of cource multiple soda cans were destroyed via Black Cat.
Later on, having not learned the first lesson, we put a Saturn Missile Battery (Imagine a box of crayons, except the crayons aren't crayons they're little tiny explosive missiles) into the watermelon. Some of these ricocheted around inside the watermelon, and one of them bounced around inside, and blew a hole in the side and came out at an angle, heading right for the crowd of people watching...
You know it isn't a National Holiday until you've risked death.
[Cowboys use Wikipedia
You should too.
As was prophesized by Tom at 09:01 PM CST