Grumpy Geek

QotD: Looking Back...

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 03:30:22 -0400

What part of your childhood do you miss the most?
Submitted by Maretta.
Good question. So many memories, mostly fond, but some not. Most people can probably say the same about their childhood.
My mom has always been a good and prolific cooker (chef?). Back when I was in grade school she leaned more towards baking. I used to walk into the house after school to the smell of home made chocolate cake, or chocolate chip cookies. And when I say home made, I don't mean sliced from a frozen roll of dough and baked. These were made from scratch, old fashioned mom style. And they were gooooood. I finally got her trained right on the cookie front -- use just enough dough to hold the chocolate chips together. Took a while before she came around, but she finally saw the light in that regard. With a big glass of cold milk. Yummmmm....

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Summer of comedy

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 00:25:00 -0400

I'm finally trying to get out a little more this summer. More than my nightly bicycle rides. Saw Eddie Izzard. He's refining a new routine that will be filmed as an HBO special in November. He was very funny. Freely admits he gets his whole routine from Wikipedia.com. At one point he was talking about how great and wonderful the ipod was when partnered with a Macintosh computer. "Of course, you can do the same thing on a pc" he says, making the motion of a hand crank starting an old automobile.

Two or three weeks later we schleped waaaay out to the burbs to see Lisa Lampanelli (a.k.a., the Queen Of Mean). The town was very blue collar, and clearly suffering economic hardship -- lots of slums and boarded-up buildings. My first thought was she's going to fire her agent. Her opening line: What's with this town? My agent is SO fired.

We got cheap tix at the last minute, and she was really fucking funny (that's really the best description for her). She makes fun of blacks, whites, gays, Jews, Hispanics; pretty much everybody. And she does so in a way that's funny without really being mean. That's a fine line to walk, and she does it with aplomb. As long as you make fun of everyone equally, you're off the hook. No favoritism shown. If she's playing anywhere near you, check her out.

Lisa Lampanelli

This Friday we've got tix to see Bill Maher. I'm not sure what he's doing, but I am SO looking forward to seeing him. I expect him to be his usual outrageous self, only more so when the cameras aren't rolling and he doesn't have to self-sensor for television. I'll let you know what happens.

Oh, and Ron White tix are on sale for September and going fast....

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Cats' got no soul

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 22:35:48 -0400

I'm sitting here doing my workout, grooving to Thievery Corporation. I'm getting funky, white boy style. The cats are looking at me like I'm crazy. Cats ain't got no soul.

Shaolin Satellite

Thievery Corporation

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Word of the day

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 01:39:26 -0400

I have just one word of the day. Ok, technically they're two: Phish Food. Chocolate ice cream with gooey marshmellow, a caramel swirl, and chocolate fudge fish. This is about as good as it gets in the world of chocolate ice cream variants. Much love; much respect to the boys Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield for coming up with the edible answer to my dreams.

Phish Food

This gargantuan glob of glue has to be eaten cold, so as the outside parts of chocolate goodness closest to the cardboard wrapper begin to soften up, take your spoon and run it along the inside wall of the container. This gets rid of the warmer, melted part, which goes right into your mouth. You're effectively dredging the ice cream; removing all the softer bits that clog the chocolate throughways and prevent access to the rest of better, still-frozen ice cream structure in the middle. Not that these "dregs" taste too bad; I can usually be coerced into eating them.

The entire experience can only be described as extasy in cardboard. A truely orgiastic advanture across the taste buds of the neather reaches of the tongue. YuuuMMMMMMmmmmm. Don't distrub me right now; I'm having organisms.

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My mood

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 12:49:31 -0400

Garfield

Killer sinus headache kept me sidlined in bed all morning. Excluding four trips to the bathroom. It was ugly.

Thankfully, the drugs are beginning to kick in and, at the risk of sounding like Hunter S. Thompson, I'm starting to feel a little more like myself.

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Hallelujah!

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 01:53:43 -0400

Yesterday was a banner day. Got my income tax refund, finally, only a month after it should have arrived. And I got laid. What more can a guy ask for?

Oh, went riding on the bicycle today. A large band of thunderstorms was making its was across the south side. From my perspective up north, I saw a beautiful sunset reflecting off the large cumulus clouds to the south. They were tall and menacing; a dark purple in color, but tinged with the bright orange light of sunset. Plus the sure knowledge (from weather.com) that they weren't going to rain on me, so they looked absolutely amazing. Ominous without being directly threatening. I almost stopped riding for a few minute to watch. Truly gorgeous.

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There is no charge for awesomeness

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 09:17:13 -0400

Saw Kung Fu Panda last night. Very amusing, and the source of my new tag line. The hero imagines himself saving the poor, helpless villagers from marauding bandits. After single-handedly kicking the bad guys' asses, the villagers ask if there's some way they can repay him. "There is no charge for awesomeness" he says in a false attempt at modesty.

Also inspiring this weekend is the story of Dara Torres, a 41-year-old mother and about to become the oldest American ever to swim at an olympics. She made two individual events, and possibly a relay. Oh, and this will be her fifth Olympics. Think about that. She was swimming in the olympics before some of the current athletes were even born! I love it when "old people" (definied as anyone close to my age) kick ass.

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Some quick notes and comments

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 11:10:20 -0400

I've been meaning to write some longer entries on these topics. When I'm out and about during my day I think about blogging certain events. I even come up with a theme and opening sentence. The problem is it stops there. I don't know how to finish out the paragraph, and then usually get busy/forget by the time I get home at night. I'm going to at least try to provide some bullet points to recent events.

I had the weirdest dream last night. Well, one of them, anyway. Wife and I were at a fertility clinic waiting for something, and I started talking with one of the women in the waiting room. She had three kids, but was now single and wanted one more child. I came up with the seemingly brilliant idea of a swap -- my sperm for her to get pregnant, in exchange for her eggs to implant in Wife.

Speaking of children, Wife was in NYC the other weekend. The oldest daughter of one of her girlfriends from high school was having her bat mitzvah. It was a huge, over-the-top affair the size (and budget) of a wedding anywhere else in the country, but what amazed (and scared) me was that her oldest daughter is now 12, while Wife and I are still dicking around (if you'll pardon the pun) trying to figure out how and if we can have children.

A very generous friend/client recently (I'll call her M) bought an entire table at a black tie benefit and invited mom and I, so I got to put on a tux, shine my shoes, and impersonate a human being for an evening (sorry, no art work survived the great shreading event that immediately followed). Dinner was unexceptional, but the company more than made up for the food. The couple sitting next to me were also avid bicyclists, and had recently returned from a bicycling tour of New Zealand. Talk about fun! Having luxury hotel reservations each night at a different place, a chase van that follows with all your luggage and a technician to repair flats or other mechanical issues, they provide a picnic lunch each day, maps, etc. All you do is ride through gorgeous exotic scenery. Very torturous, huh? There was also a silent auction, and M bid on (and won) a weekend stay plus dinner at an historic downtown hotel, which she gave to mom. M also bid on (and won) a case of wine from the Sonoma Tourism Board, which she gave to me. This was completely unexpected, and surprised the hell out of me. I was very greatful, so now I have a case of mixed wine coming in the mail. Unfortunately I didn't get to pick which ones I want, but the package was valued at $750, so I'm guessing it won't suck too badly. I'll let you know what I get. Might have to look into finally buying a mini-wine fridge.

I've put several hundred miles on the bicycle already this year, and had to get the chain replaced. The bike now shifts a lot smoother and faster, but it's still a heavy hunk of aluminum and I'm lusting after something lighter with better components. Don't have the money right now, and with Lemond Bicycles now going out of business, one of the last suppliers of steel frames is gone. I test rode a 2006 or 2007 Sarthe and it was a pretty nice bike for the money.

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The lion in summer

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 14:24:11 -0400

Stinky is one of those cats that no matter how much I brush him, his fur always seems to get mottled and nasty. It's like he's constantly got chewing gum stuck in his fur. I don't know what he's getting into; he's just one of those cats who never seems to have a good fur day (although he looks better in the picture than he did in reality. Note the large mats around his hip).

Stinky before lion cut

The only solution: cut it all off. Finally got around to getting him a lion cut. The cat place gives him a wash, conditioner (apparently he has very dry skin, which accounts for the dandruff), and shave. Big time shave.

Stinky after lion cut

I am Puss. In Boots.

Note the cat equivalent of a beer belly between his rear paws. Except in his case it's a wet food belly. He doesn't like the dry food so much, just the wet with all the fat. He really likes it, mainly because everyone goes, "Awwwh, isn't he cute" and wants to pet him. He is a total affection whore. Rub his back, let him stick his ass in your face and he's yours for life.

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Dumb-ass car drivers

nobody@vox.com(Grumpy Geek) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 09:31:12 -0400

Dear Mr. Car Driver:

It was nice running in to you the other day (thankfully, not literally) at the intersection while I was riding my bicycle. You were going East, I was going South. We almost touched. I know that I'm an imposing figure, all 6' 3" of me clad in tight, black riding gear stretched out across the top of a black 25" Trek, the largest frame they make. If you want to stop and check me out, that's fine. But the polite thing to do is to stop COMPLETELY and let me through the intersection first. Or at least zoom through quickly and I'll go after you. That way I don't have to stop, break my rhythm, then waste energy starting up again when it's the end of my ride, and I'm hot and tired. The WORST thing you can do is what you did -- pretend to go through the intersection slowly so I have to come to a complete stop, then stop and wave me through. By that time you've broken my rhythm and concentration, so it's a bust. Next time, please try to be a little more considerate.

That was Monday. Yesterday I'm out for a long ride when I see flashing lights a couple of blocks ahead and a fire truck pulls up. A couple of firemen get out. There are no flames shooting out of the building, no thick black cloud of smoke. There's nothing to see. That doesn't stop the goober in the mini-van at the end of the block from slowing down to 10 miles an hour and rubber neck as he checks out the scene.

I should state here that the road we're on is under construction, so there's only one lane open in each direction. Mr. mini-van driver is crawling along, oblivious to the fact that there's 10 cars piling up behind him who want to get through the intersection that his gas-guzzling vehicle is effectively blocking. I risk life and limb to cross the yellow line and pass most of the cars, but now there's someone coming the other way, so I have to pull back into my lane and I'm stuck right behind the mini-van. This guy is going slower than I am on a bicycle. That's pretty bad. I start muttering "go, go, move, Move" half to myself. A couple of minutes later, traffic clears up and I pass the mini-van. On my bicycle. The guy yells out the window, "Are you talking to me? You are such a fag. Fucking fag." ????? What, are we in high school again? That's the most creative insult you can come up with (which is what I yelled back at him). WTF? It was cooler yesterday and I was wearing tights and a long-sleeve biking jersey, but I thought a more appropriate term was "aerodynamic." Or at least "metrosexual." Jeez...

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