Monday, January 31, 2005
My brother's girlfriend just told me some disturbing news about my brother: he's playing World of Warcraft. He and his friends used to get together with their computers every now and then for weekend-long old-fashioned Warcraft binges. But he told me he had no interest in World of Warcraft.
Well, apparently he's addicted. Onlining the stuff. Doesn't want to go shopping at Target with her or hang out at her apartment watching HBO original serieses. I'm not sure he's even showing up for work.
His girlfriend got him to cut down on his pot habit a couple months ago by threatening to leave him. I told her that this is much more serious. Somebody needs to intervene. She's got to get him back on the pot.
To understand just how dangerous and nerdy the situation is, read these two articles:
Pimps and Dragons
The Unreal Estate Boom
This is Schedule I stuff.
Well, apparently he's addicted. Onlining the stuff. Doesn't want to go shopping at Target with her or hang out at her apartment watching HBO original serieses. I'm not sure he's even showing up for work.
His girlfriend got him to cut down on his pot habit a couple months ago by threatening to leave him. I told her that this is much more serious. Somebody needs to intervene. She's got to get him back on the pot.
To understand just how dangerous and nerdy the situation is, read these two articles:
Pimps and Dragons
The Unreal Estate Boom
This is Schedule I stuff.
Maybe someone finally got around to reaming him for that jacked up server he delivered a couple weeks ago. Looked like it had been sideswiped by a forklift. Spent the rest of the day getting it returned.
Today's box was pretty beat up, too. Fortunately, it was just a toner cartridge. Meathead.
Today's box was pretty beat up, too. Fortunately, it was just a toner cartridge. Meathead.
Iraqi Elections Results
But first, Super Bowl of Poker results from Saturday night:
Tomohiro Wins!
Actually, I split the pot with my little brother, but only after I showed him who's his daddy by refusing his invitation to draw at the beginning of head-to-head action (when I was down big) and stripping him down to his last black chip. I wiped my balls with the rest of those blackjack losers. (At least in the first tournie. In the second one, I was knocked out in the second hand.)
I just hope no one wiped their balls with my toothbrush. Always risky taking people's money in your own home.
Tomohiro Wins!
Actually, I split the pot with my little brother, but only after I showed him who's his daddy by refusing his invitation to draw at the beginning of head-to-head action (when I was down big) and stripping him down to his last black chip. I wiped my balls with the rest of those blackjack losers. (At least in the first tournie. In the second one, I was knocked out in the second hand.)
I just hope no one wiped their balls with my toothbrush. Always risky taking people's money in your own home.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Shit List Employee of the Month: Ken Hughes
A strange bump in visitors (including a lot of Kiwis) these last couple weeks. By the hit counter logs, it looks like most the traffic a result of searches related to the Ken Hughes war calling scam. I guess the Ken Hughes juggernaut is circling the globe, like some kind of retro-late 20th century pre-Internet network virus. Interestingly, Ken Hughes has become the best advertisement this little mom-and-pop blog has ever had.
If you're just tuning in and are wondering what that strange message you got from our new spokesmodel was all about, it's a scam. No, I didn't create it. I'm just benefitting, indirectly (sort of), by it. For more details, see:
A Very Important Call from Ken Hughes
Then dial the number provided in the message receive and tell who's ever on the other end of the line that they really ought to read Marius the Epicurean by Walter Pater.
If you're just tuning in and are wondering what that strange message you got from our new spokesmodel was all about, it's a scam. No, I didn't create it. I'm just benefitting, indirectly (sort of), by it. For more details, see:
A Very Important Call from Ken Hughes
Then dial the number provided in the message receive and tell who's ever on the other end of the line that they really ought to read Marius the Epicurean by Walter Pater.
Friday, January 28, 2005
KCRW started another goddamned, motherfucking pledge drive this morning. By the end of next week, they will be more pledge-break than radio broadcast.
Is two god-awful weeks of this shameless pandering three times a years really better than the market-recommended dosage of commercials apportioned out over the course of year?
Calling the BBC.
Is two god-awful weeks of this shameless pandering three times a years really better than the market-recommended dosage of commercials apportioned out over the course of year?
Calling the BBC.
Monday, January 24, 2005
Johnny Carson: Dead
It would have been a more impressive legacy if he had honored his terminal responsibilities and fire-bombed Adam Sandler or Jay Leno on his way out.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Operation Senior Moment
An Open Letter to Senior Citizens: How the Second Amendment Can Improve the Quality of Your Life and the Lives of Those Around You
So my grandmother was telling me again the other day about a friend of hers from the beauty salon she goes to. My grandmother is completely smitten with this woman. The first time she met her friend, when she found out she was in her 80s, my grandmother asked to take her photo, she was so impressed. Says she doesn't look a day over 65. The woman's still working as a financial analyst. And she's a movie buff, so she brings my grandmother a couple videotapes each week from her collection for my grandmother to watch.
So last time she saw her friend, my grandmother asked her how her holidays had been. Her friend said she had a nice time visiting her daughter back east. She mentioned that her daughter has long been pressing her to move back east closer to her. My grandmother said she should do it. Her friend, however, said she can't because she has another daughter here who she needs to be near.
The problem, my grandmother's friend explained, is her daughter's husband. He beats her. Beats their 11 year-old boy. He's a violent drunk. I guess before he got married, he was drunken sod. But before they married, he sobered up. He stayed dry for a while. But within the last could years, he's started to drink again. His behavior has deteriorated.
Recently, he was arrested on a D.U.I. He was sentenced to a sort of house-arrest. He can go to work. (He's some variety of blue-collar slob -- my grandmother thought her friend said carpenter.) But he wears must wear an electronic monitoring bracelet on his ankle. And he must be home by 6pm every night. The amazing -- and perhaps most troubling part of this whole story -- is that he has two mistresses. And this presented a dilemma: to whose home should he be confined? His family's? Or one of his crackhead mistresses? I gathered from my grandmother's account that the court left it to his discretion. And after long deliberation, he decided that he would choose his family's home as his primary residence of detention.
My grandmother's friend told my grandmother that he had given her daughter her most recent black eye after her daughter had hung up on one of the mistresses who had called their house. My grandmother told her friend, "Your daughter must leave him. He is going to kill her." Her friend said, "I know. But she won't leave him."
I told my grandmother, "This is what you should do. You should tell your friend that she must shoot and kill her son-in-law." This was not an idle proposition. Indeed, it was nothing short of inspiration. Lives were in danger. Civilization was at stake. Still, my grandmother balked. But I reasoned the case for her.
"There is a war on terror. We are in the midst of an ongoing war on terror. This war may never end. And yet we must fight it. For the good of the country. For the good of the world. For the good of Rudy Giuliani's security consulting firm. And what front in the war on terror is more important that the domestic front? By conservative estimates, we have probably killed over 100,000 Iraqi civilians in a war that was, at its outset, only even marginally connected with the war on terror. This man threatens the life of a sorry, pathetic, vulnerable woman -- his own wife! He threatens the lives of other -- including you and me -- every time he boozes up and gets behind the wheel of what I am sure is an oversized truck. We should deploy a Special Ops force to kill this menace. They should haul him in and attach electrodes to him in his most sensitive parts. But since they are mostly engaged overseas, I think your friend should do it."
My grandmother doubted that her friend would accept the mission.
"You must convince her. Look, you said she's 80 years-old, doesn't look a day over 65. This would be the crowning accomplishment in a long and fruitful life. Experts say elderly people should do crossword puzzles to keep the minds sharp, light exercise to keep their bodies healthy. What better exercise, mental and physical, than killing this wretch? Nothing concentrates the mind, I imagine, like plotting murder. Or manslaughter really. I don't think there's a jury in this country, outside perhaps Texas, that would convict your friend. She doesn't even have to kill him. Just shoot him in the spine."
"Just think of the fun it would be for her. She could research firearms, visit the shooting range, get really cool sunglasses, plot her legal defense. That would be months of exciting work for her right there. Meanwhile, he son-in-law will be regularly beating the shit out of her daughter and grandson, making her project all the more necessary and gratifying, once she finally executes it. And then the trial -- she'll love it! She loves movies, she loves celebrity. She'll be an instant celebrity, a folk hero, the star of her own courtroom drama. She'll be bigger than Scott Peterson and Martha Stewart combined.
"Indeed, I think more old people in this country need to take up a project like this. Find some monster in their family -- some violent, disgusting drunk of a son-in-law, some deranged, worthless slob of a grand-nephew -- and plot his or her murder. Or not even murder. Like I said, they could just severly debilitate them, though then there are the social costs involved with paying for their disability benefits. No, just have them kill the deadbeats. They'll be doing us a service. They'll be doing themselves a service. Half of old people probably spend their days watching Court TV or reruns of the Rockford Files or Matlock. The rest of them are just throwing away their Social Security checks on the mean red-state thrills of slot machines. Instead they could be doing something profound, real, and patriotic. They could be the new shock troops in the war on terror. And if they go to prison -- well, for some, their care will likely be better there than what they're receiving now.
"What is the use of a second-amendment in this country, if old people can't go out and get a gun and shoot a drunken, violent carpenter half their age?"
My grandmother still thinks it's wrong and that it would do no good -- her friend's daughter would probably just blame her mom for ruining her life. "Then shoot the daughter, too." My grandmother thought that was a better idea. I told her to talk it over with her pastor and maybe bring it up with the members of her bridge group.
So my grandmother was telling me again the other day about a friend of hers from the beauty salon she goes to. My grandmother is completely smitten with this woman. The first time she met her friend, when she found out she was in her 80s, my grandmother asked to take her photo, she was so impressed. Says she doesn't look a day over 65. The woman's still working as a financial analyst. And she's a movie buff, so she brings my grandmother a couple videotapes each week from her collection for my grandmother to watch.
So last time she saw her friend, my grandmother asked her how her holidays had been. Her friend said she had a nice time visiting her daughter back east. She mentioned that her daughter has long been pressing her to move back east closer to her. My grandmother said she should do it. Her friend, however, said she can't because she has another daughter here who she needs to be near.
The problem, my grandmother's friend explained, is her daughter's husband. He beats her. Beats their 11 year-old boy. He's a violent drunk. I guess before he got married, he was drunken sod. But before they married, he sobered up. He stayed dry for a while. But within the last could years, he's started to drink again. His behavior has deteriorated.
Recently, he was arrested on a D.U.I. He was sentenced to a sort of house-arrest. He can go to work. (He's some variety of blue-collar slob -- my grandmother thought her friend said carpenter.) But he wears must wear an electronic monitoring bracelet on his ankle. And he must be home by 6pm every night. The amazing -- and perhaps most troubling part of this whole story -- is that he has two mistresses. And this presented a dilemma: to whose home should he be confined? His family's? Or one of his crackhead mistresses? I gathered from my grandmother's account that the court left it to his discretion. And after long deliberation, he decided that he would choose his family's home as his primary residence of detention.
My grandmother's friend told my grandmother that he had given her daughter her most recent black eye after her daughter had hung up on one of the mistresses who had called their house. My grandmother told her friend, "Your daughter must leave him. He is going to kill her." Her friend said, "I know. But she won't leave him."
I told my grandmother, "This is what you should do. You should tell your friend that she must shoot and kill her son-in-law." This was not an idle proposition. Indeed, it was nothing short of inspiration. Lives were in danger. Civilization was at stake. Still, my grandmother balked. But I reasoned the case for her.
"There is a war on terror. We are in the midst of an ongoing war on terror. This war may never end. And yet we must fight it. For the good of the country. For the good of the world. For the good of Rudy Giuliani's security consulting firm. And what front in the war on terror is more important that the domestic front? By conservative estimates, we have probably killed over 100,000 Iraqi civilians in a war that was, at its outset, only even marginally connected with the war on terror. This man threatens the life of a sorry, pathetic, vulnerable woman -- his own wife! He threatens the lives of other -- including you and me -- every time he boozes up and gets behind the wheel of what I am sure is an oversized truck. We should deploy a Special Ops force to kill this menace. They should haul him in and attach electrodes to him in his most sensitive parts. But since they are mostly engaged overseas, I think your friend should do it."
My grandmother doubted that her friend would accept the mission.
"You must convince her. Look, you said she's 80 years-old, doesn't look a day over 65. This would be the crowning accomplishment in a long and fruitful life. Experts say elderly people should do crossword puzzles to keep the minds sharp, light exercise to keep their bodies healthy. What better exercise, mental and physical, than killing this wretch? Nothing concentrates the mind, I imagine, like plotting murder. Or manslaughter really. I don't think there's a jury in this country, outside perhaps Texas, that would convict your friend. She doesn't even have to kill him. Just shoot him in the spine."
"Just think of the fun it would be for her. She could research firearms, visit the shooting range, get really cool sunglasses, plot her legal defense. That would be months of exciting work for her right there. Meanwhile, he son-in-law will be regularly beating the shit out of her daughter and grandson, making her project all the more necessary and gratifying, once she finally executes it. And then the trial -- she'll love it! She loves movies, she loves celebrity. She'll be an instant celebrity, a folk hero, the star of her own courtroom drama. She'll be bigger than Scott Peterson and Martha Stewart combined.
"Indeed, I think more old people in this country need to take up a project like this. Find some monster in their family -- some violent, disgusting drunk of a son-in-law, some deranged, worthless slob of a grand-nephew -- and plot his or her murder. Or not even murder. Like I said, they could just severly debilitate them, though then there are the social costs involved with paying for their disability benefits. No, just have them kill the deadbeats. They'll be doing us a service. They'll be doing themselves a service. Half of old people probably spend their days watching Court TV or reruns of the Rockford Files or Matlock. The rest of them are just throwing away their Social Security checks on the mean red-state thrills of slot machines. Instead they could be doing something profound, real, and patriotic. They could be the new shock troops in the war on terror. And if they go to prison -- well, for some, their care will likely be better there than what they're receiving now.
"What is the use of a second-amendment in this country, if old people can't go out and get a gun and shoot a drunken, violent carpenter half their age?"
My grandmother still thinks it's wrong and that it would do no good -- her friend's daughter would probably just blame her mom for ruining her life. "Then shoot the daughter, too." My grandmother thought that was a better idea. I told her to talk it over with her pastor and maybe bring it up with the members of her bridge group.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Which brings to mind a new euphemism for deveining the shrimp:
"dunning Samuel Johnson"
Or, perhaps:
"browbeating Bosworth"
As a matter of fact, I think old Bosworth is ready for a good browbeating right now.
"dunning Samuel Johnson"
Or, perhaps:
"browbeating Bosworth"
As a matter of fact, I think old Bosworth is ready for a good browbeating right now.
Second UrbanDictionary Contribution: de-veining the shrimp
Or has this already been canonized?
Acronym for 'Dead On My Keyboard', but may be used more generally to describe anything that is lazy, lame, or uninspired.
Ex: "After 16 hours straight of World of Warcraft, Dan was feeling pretty faded. But it was deveining the shrimp while surfing marykateandashley.com that left him totally domk."
Ex: "After 16 hours straight of World of Warcraft, Dan was feeling pretty faded. But it was deveining the shrimp while surfing marykateandashley.com that left him totally domk."
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Why is borrow-and-spend better than tax-and-spend?
The program for "AMERICA'S FUTURE ROCKS TODAY", the pre-Presidential Inauguration Youth Concert meant to inspire community and public service in our young people and contempt for the time-honored institutions of sex, drugs, and rock and roll that truly made this country the greatest fucking country on earth:
Fuel
JoJo
Hillary Duff
Ruben Studdard
3 Doors Down
Boxkar
May you all get donkey-raped by Zombie Flavor Flav and burn in K-Tel hell after your careers die.
Fuel
JoJo
Hillary Duff
Ruben Studdard
3 Doors Down
Boxkar
May you all get donkey-raped by Zombie Flavor Flav and burn in K-Tel hell after your careers die.
Monday, January 17, 2005
So if you were to have your own iPod commercial, with jitterbugging silhouettes and everything, what song would you choose?
Me?
Helpless Dancer
from The Who's Quadrophenia.
Dude, it would be like such a statement.
Me?
Helpless Dancer
from The Who's Quadrophenia.
Dude, it would be like such a statement.
What is this, Ohio?
Working on Martin Luther the King Day. That's some goddamned white cracker bullshit.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
From a more innocent time:
Friday, January 14, 2005
A woman angry with her 12-year-old daughter for having sex forced the girl to drink bleach and sat on her until the child died, a police detective said.
...[the mother], who has been jailed without bond since shortly after her daughter's Nov. 26 death, told authorities she was disturbed because "her daughter told her that she was no longer a virgin.
...[the mother], who has been jailed without bond since shortly after her daughter's Nov. 26 death, told authorities she was disturbed because "her daughter told her that she was no longer a virgin.
In the red-letter words of Strawberry Jesus:
"That's a serious waste of some 12 year-old poon."
Fucking Nerds
So I ask a pretty simple question in a PHP forum:
And this is the first response:
I don't know, why you have to mess up with session for form. Here is
my old version of form processing script <
http://groups.google.com/groups?as_umsgid=abc4d8b8.0402130547.2f09d.....>,
which may be helpful sometimes.
--
<?php echo 'Just another PHP saint'; ?>
Just another tactless PHP dork is more like it. The link he included didn't even work. All I can say is, what an asshole. Had to say it here to avoid a flame war.
A small problem that has me kinda baffled. This is the situation:
I've set up a self-submitting form FORM.PHP. Once the inputs are
validated, the info gets put in SESSION variables and the script
redirects the user to a review form REVIEW.PHP which displays the info
the user has input and allows them to edit or submit. At the top of
that page, I have the following code:
--- start code ---
foreach ($_SESSION as $key=>$submission) {
if ( empty($submission) || ($submission == "") || (strlen($submission)
== 0) ) {
$DISPLAY[$key] = "« BLANK »";
}
else {
$DISPLAY[$key] = $submission;
}
}
extract($DISPLAY);
--- end code ---
The form then displays the info now extracted from the $DISPLAY array.
By creating a new array $DISPLAY for the $_SESSION variables, the idea
is that this page will indicate the optional fields where the user
didn't input data with the string, "BLANK", without changing data in
the $_SESSION array. At the bottom, there is an edit button which will
take a user back to the original form where the form will be
repopulated with the $_SESSION data.
The problem I'm having is that the blank $_SESSION variables are being
overwritten with the "BLANK" string that's only meant to appear in the
review form. Not a huge problem, but I can't figure out why it is
happening.
Any ideas? I've scoured my code. There's nothing that deliberately
overwrites info in the $_SESSION array on the review page. All I can
figure is it must have something to do with the way FOREACH operates.
Any help is appreciated.
I've set up a self-submitting form FORM.PHP. Once the inputs are
validated, the info gets put in SESSION variables and the script
redirects the user to a review form REVIEW.PHP which displays the info
the user has input and allows them to edit or submit. At the top of
that page, I have the following code:
--- start code ---
foreach ($_SESSION as $key=>$submission) {
if ( empty($submission) || ($submission == "") || (strlen($submission)
== 0) ) {
$DISPLAY[$key] = "« BLANK »";
}
else {
$DISPLAY[$key] = $submission;
}
}
extract($DISPLAY);
--- end code ---
The form then displays the info now extracted from the $DISPLAY array.
By creating a new array $DISPLAY for the $_SESSION variables, the idea
is that this page will indicate the optional fields where the user
didn't input data with the string, "BLANK", without changing data in
the $_SESSION array. At the bottom, there is an edit button which will
take a user back to the original form where the form will be
repopulated with the $_SESSION data.
The problem I'm having is that the blank $_SESSION variables are being
overwritten with the "BLANK" string that's only meant to appear in the
review form. Not a huge problem, but I can't figure out why it is
happening.
Any ideas? I've scoured my code. There's nothing that deliberately
overwrites info in the $_SESSION array on the review page. All I can
figure is it must have something to do with the way FOREACH operates.
Any help is appreciated.
And this is the first response:
I don't know, why you have to mess up with session for form. Here is
my old version of form processing script <
http://groups.google.com/groups?as_umsgid=abc4d8b8.0402130547.2f09d.....>,
which may be helpful sometimes.
--
<?php echo 'Just another PHP saint'; ?>
Just another tactless PHP dork is more like it. The link he included didn't even work. All I can say is, what an asshole. Had to say it here to avoid a flame war.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
In reply to Alex Fung :
The following code doesn't work :
$x = 18;
$y = 6;
switch ($x) {
case (($y * 4) || (9 * 3)):
echo "Member";
break;
default:
echo "Not a member";
}
?>
Why :
want to test if $x == $y*4 or $x == 9*3 ($x == (($y*4)||(9*3))
However the case statement evaluate the value of (($y*4)||(9*3)) that is always true because 9*3=27 (!=0)
That's why this code always return true when $x != 0.
The correct code would be :
$x = 18;
$y = 6;
switch ($x) {
case (($y * 4)):
case ((9*3)):
echo "Member";
break;
default:
echo "Not a member";
}
?>
Boolean logic work inside case statement, you just need to know that the expression in the case statement is first evaluated then compared with the evaluated value in the switch statement.
The following code doesn't work :
$x = 18;
$y = 6;
switch ($x) {
case (($y * 4) || (9 * 3)):
echo "Member";
break;
default:
echo "Not a member";
}
?>
Why :
However the case statement evaluate the value of (($y*4)||(9*3)) that is always true because 9*3=27 (!=0)
That's why this code always return true when $x != 0.
The correct code would be :
$x = 18;
$y = 6;
switch ($x) {
case (($y * 4)):
case ((9*3)):
echo "Member";
break;
default:
echo "Not a member";
}
?>
Boolean logic work inside case statement, you just need to know that the expression in the case statement is first evaluated then compared with the evaluated value in the switch statement.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Taking It to the Street
So I'm coming back from lunch this afternoon and as I approach the complex my office is in, I notice this guy with platinum blonde hair walking out of the parking lot without a shirt on. Now the weather is a lot nicer today than it has been and he had a nice physique, but still, I'm think, "What's this guy trying to prove?" As I'm turning into the next entrance to the parking lot, I notice another guy (wearing shirt) run up to this guy and they start circling each other, fists in the air. It's hard to tell if they're serious or just fucking around. But there's a few other guys in the parking lot eyeing things who look ready to spring. They're all in their early 20s and look like the Orange County, raised pick-up driving type. Too dumb to go to a state college, but too smart to go to war. Out in front of the office in the corner of the complex, there's a guy in a suit who looks like he wants to intervene, but things have gotten beyond his control. And there's a bunch of secretaries near the entrance, everyone watching whatever the hell this is. I haven't seen anything like it since high school.
I thought about pulling up to see what was going on. But someone's shirt or sweater was blocking the only available parking spot. And I was a little late getting back from lunch.
I think the company is called the Dana Capital group or something. I'm guessing it was a couple of telemarketers with a professional difference of opinion who just decided to settle it old school and keep it real. Or maybe just a morale-boosting exercise taken too far.
I thought about pulling up to see what was going on. But someone's shirt or sweater was blocking the only available parking spot. And I was a little late getting back from lunch.
I think the company is called the Dana Capital group or something. I'm guessing it was a couple of telemarketers with a professional difference of opinion who just decided to settle it old school and keep it real. Or maybe just a morale-boosting exercise taken too far.
Sunday, January 09, 2005
There were worse ways to die
in Mexico, 1917,
than the way Fortino Samano died.
By special dispensation
of General �lvaro Obreg�n,
Agustin Casasola was allowed to
photograph the execution
as a mechanical reproduction
of the restoration of order.
A sentry ripped the hat from Samano's head
before the gunmen lined up.
Minutes later, two soldiers dragged the corpse
across the courtyard,
dropped it in a ditch
But Casasola was a revolutionary, too,
and Samano conspired to appear
positively jaunty, so that it is even said
that it was Samano who gave
the glorious order to shoot.
in Mexico, 1917,
than the way Fortino Samano died.
By special dispensation
of General �lvaro Obreg�n,
Agustin Casasola was allowed to
photograph the execution
as a mechanical reproduction
of the restoration of order.
A sentry ripped the hat from Samano's head
before the gunmen lined up.
Minutes later, two soldiers dragged the corpse
across the courtyard,
dropped it in a ditch
But Casasola was a revolutionary, too,
and Samano conspired to appear
positively jaunty, so that it is even said
that it was Samano who gave
the glorious order to shoot.
Friday, January 07, 2005
I just swallowed something in my coffee.
Damn. I hope it was good for me.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
I think I am (or my place of business is) the target of a renegade telemarketer that I offended the other day by brushing off his janitorial services solicitation. He's crafty. He asks for a vice-president, using some ambiguous term to describe what it's regarding. (I wonder if he learned it from that Peter Sellers movie on HBO.) I'd like to nail this motherfucker. Don't ask me why. As a public service perhaps.
Anyway, I called SBC to try to get a phone number and a block or federal indictment or something. First of all, I think SBC deliberately slows their automated phone menu just enough so that you'll get frustrated and hang-up on impulse support calls like this. It's like listening to that kid in the wheelchair from Malcolm in the Middle. And when you press 0 to shortcut -- like you can on most humane phone trees -- it just starts the seven-option menu all over again.
After I get through that, I'm told by the rep I get that he doesn't know how to trace a call. So I explain the situation and am transferred to the Annoyance Call Bureau, where I sit through another slow phone menu and re-enter my phone number only to get a message that states that the office is open between the hours of 8:30am and 5pm PST. (It's a little after 4:30pm PST when I hear this.) Then I get another message asking me to re-enter my phone number. I swear to fucking god, this can't be necessary. Finally, I get a message saying that someone will call me back on this matter within 1 business day. I'm not holding my breath.
And so pure evil goes unpunished for at least one more day. And the annoyance of incidental ineptitude sails forth unflustered.
If you want to be an annoyance to the Annoyance Call Bureau, by the way, their number is 800-698-7223. Believe me, they're powerless to stop you.
Anyway, I called SBC to try to get a phone number and a block or federal indictment or something. First of all, I think SBC deliberately slows their automated phone menu just enough so that you'll get frustrated and hang-up on impulse support calls like this. It's like listening to that kid in the wheelchair from Malcolm in the Middle. And when you press 0 to shortcut -- like you can on most humane phone trees -- it just starts the seven-option menu all over again.
After I get through that, I'm told by the rep I get that he doesn't know how to trace a call. So I explain the situation and am transferred to the Annoyance Call Bureau, where I sit through another slow phone menu and re-enter my phone number only to get a message that states that the office is open between the hours of 8:30am and 5pm PST. (It's a little after 4:30pm PST when I hear this.) Then I get another message asking me to re-enter my phone number. I swear to fucking god, this can't be necessary. Finally, I get a message saying that someone will call me back on this matter within 1 business day. I'm not holding my breath.
And so pure evil goes unpunished for at least one more day. And the annoyance of incidental ineptitude sails forth unflustered.
If you want to be an annoyance to the Annoyance Call Bureau, by the way, their number is 800-698-7223. Believe me, they're powerless to stop you.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
The Perfect Hot Buttered Rum
New Year's Eve, I perfected the hot-buttered rum. In the spirit Christian communism, I here give it to the world:
Ingredients:
1 pat butter
1 quail egg
1 tsp brown sugar
1 tsp white sugar
1 tsp powder sugar
1 1/2 oz. dark rum (I like Whaler's)
1/2 oz. real vanilla extract
4 oz boiling water
dash of cinnamon
Add butter, egg, and sugar to hip black coffee cup. Blend thoroughly. Add 4 oz of boiling water. Stir until completely dissolved. Add rum and vanilla. Stir. Converse charmingly with friend or lover for two minutes. Sprinkle cinnamon on top. Serve and enjoy.
I call it:
The Last Hot Buttered Rum in Paris
(East of the Rockies, it goes by the name "The Best Hot Rum-Buttered Bum in Paris.")
Ingredients:
1 pat butter
1 quail egg
1 tsp brown sugar
1 tsp white sugar
1 tsp powder sugar
1 1/2 oz. dark rum (I like Whaler's)
1/2 oz. real vanilla extract
4 oz boiling water
dash of cinnamon
Add butter, egg, and sugar to hip black coffee cup. Blend thoroughly. Add 4 oz of boiling water. Stir until completely dissolved. Add rum and vanilla. Stir. Converse charmingly with friend or lover for two minutes. Sprinkle cinnamon on top. Serve and enjoy.
I call it:
The Last Hot Buttered Rum in Paris
(East of the Rockies, it goes by the name "The Best Hot Rum-Buttered Bum in Paris.")
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Shit, 2005!
Didn't know the calendar even went this high.
