Hockey… Seriously.
So, I don't get any channels that get the game. I don't have a radio in this house and hate play-by-play radio broadcasts for hockey anyway. I do, however, get Wil Wheaton's twitter feed on my phone. Which. Is. Genius.
Seriously. Thank you, Mr. Wheaton, for being my score board. Thank you for being my hero. Mr. Wheaton. I think I might love you, but just a little, and in a completely appropriate way that in which one man loves another man, not in the way one man loves little Westley Crusher. Because that would be wrong.
Oh. So wrong.
-Jon
P.S. By the way, the score is 1-0 Detroit. Word.
Ahh, Days Off
My first and only day off this week is going to be one of running around and spending all sorts of money on bills and food. Huzzah. It's really not all bad. I'm going to pay off some older debt and make sure that it doesn't haunt me for the rest of my life and I get to get some food and cook for the next few days. Dunno what I'm going to be making, but that doesn't matter as much. I am, however, super excited that I can now do all of my Google stuff in external apps at home. What does this mean for Jon? This means Jon doesn't have to log B out of Google every time he wants to check mail or calendar. Yes, I know. I could set up an account for her, and I still might do that, but I like using third party apps and weird lesser-known local servers to sync shit up. Why? Have I failed to impress on you that I'm a geek? Do I need to tell you some more? Ok. How's this. When I was setting up gCalDaemon (the little thinggy that makes iCal and gCal stay cool with one another), I couldn't stop until it worked. Like, I tried to go to bed, couldn't sleep and came back downstairs for a few more minutes of configuration before I was satisfied that it was probably working. I couldn't tell because I was so damned tired I couldn't remember if I had only tested sync one way or not. So... ... I set up my own little test again (I think for the third time) to see if additions and deletions were working from gCal to iCal (iCal to gCal was already proven time and time again) and forced myself to bed. Still couldn't fall asleep too quick though, cuz I wanted to know. Because I'm a geek.
Anyways, I'm going to get started on my errands now. I'll catch ya'll on the flipside.
-Jon
Writers Strike and Me
So, the writer's strike is still going on, and seriously... good for them. Don't let the man keep you down guys and gals. But, please please please, don't interfere with what may possibly be the best moment of 2008. Please, keep the strike going (not that the AMPTP is going to make that difficult) until NBC decides to launch what may possibly be the absolutely best idea ever. Please let NBC launch a new network to support it. Please. I beg you. Bring me my Nitro, my Turbo, my Blaze and my Ice. Bring back the American Gladiators forever.
Seriously though, Writers, I know. I know you've already pushed up the date, and I know that you did it for me. So I thank you. I would like you to come back to your jobs just as soon as the fuckwads... ... err... AMPTP decide that paying you for online distribution would -- you know -- be right, so that you could change the names of a couple of the Gladiators. According to Wikipedia they will be named Hammer, Justice, Mayhem, Titan, Militia, Toa, and Wolf for the male Gladiators. Blast, Crush (MMA fighter Gina Carano), Fury, Venom, Siren, Stealth, and Helga make up the names for the female Gladiators. But seriously, Toa? Helga? Why the hell does every female gladiator get a name that is (with the exception of Siren) based on a mega-man charachter or a Marvel Comic character (Blastman, Crushman, Nick Fury, Venom, Venus/Siren, Stealthman (ok, there isn't a Stealthman in Megaman -- just give it time people)) except Helga. Seriously, if she doesn't wear an opera bra and a viking helmet I'll be pissed. I also think that naming the men after mayhem and militias is silly.
So, anyways, I think I'm going to take the night of January 6th off just to get all kinds of drunk at a bar and watch grown men wrestle and climb shit while wearing leotards. The women, I expect, will be scary.
-Jon
Don't Piss Me… … …
I used to play Doom a lot by dialing into a friends computer. Like, seriously. We'd use modems and it'd just be the two of us playing because that's all we could rig, and any time our Mom's or Sister's or whoever else decided they needed the precious precious commodity that was our phone line... ... well... they felt our wrath. The point of this post, however, has nothing to do with him except the title: he used to type that a lot. Because he didn't have time to finish with "off" before I killed him. Heh.
I recently had a conversation with someone I've had a relationship with for years and years. It went something like this:
"Oh. Oh no you didn't. That's right asstard. You kidnapped my girlfriend, then you have the audacity... damnit! screw you dipshit. You don't get to jump on that! HA HA HA HA HA!! Oh that's right! Take that! DOWN WITH YOU ASSHOLE!!!!
And thus ended my first trip through Super Mario Galaxy. I slapped Bowser like a pimp and made him call me Daddy. Now I have to find every single power star. Why? Because they're there. And damnit. I want them. Now.
-Jon
A Checkbook Mother Fucker! Do You Use It!!!
So, I got hit with some overdraft fees. I didn't think about it too much because I figured I'd been dumb, not been keeping a close eye on my account balance, spent too much, and deserved to loose the money to the gods of checks and balances. Then I got a letter. The letter also contained a check that I thought had been deposited. That I was accounting to be deposited. Turns out, not so much.
So, I figured that I'd be having to go to the bank, fight a loud fight in front of grown-ups that thought that I was a dumbass kid. Instead the process was not only simple and straight forward (turns out I hadn't done anything wrong except that I can't deposit checks that are signed over to me in an ATM) and not only did the check get all sorts of into my account, but I also had the overdraft fees whisked away out into the great wide open. So, good gosh. I usually expect that something like that will be a pain, but, thankfully not so much today. I am, however, going to give myself a kick in the ass to keep on top of my checkbook. For which, I found a nifty little program called Cha-Ching that (if I use it) will help me be orginized, stick to a budget, and be happier and more attractive. It's not every day that personal finance software will offer that kind of ROI. But, really... isn't personal finance software all about ROI?
Yes. I really did just make a money-geek joke about my sexiness level. I think today I rolled a 16, hopefully I'll roll a 20 tomorrow.
-Jon
Everything's Bigger About Texas
June 1st, At about 6:15am I start my battle with the alarm, fight with vigor, loose, get up, get showered, wake B up then head off (thanks to B’s Uncle) to begin the Great Texas Adventure of '07. Security was surprisingly not terrible, but I did have to stand in a confined space to have a bunch of air jets puff me with air, and that was confusing. I think they were looking for rogue ions or something. I would’ve asked, but I’m sure that violates some aspect of the Patriot Act, so I just continued on feeling vaguely like a criminal. Cut to 3 hours later in Texas.
Get picked up by Randy and his girl, who are awesome. Seriously -- they drive out of their way to get us at DFW and then take us to get our Tuxes. And, while I have a whole post about rental Tuxes coming, the tuxes made us look good. It didn't fit me quite right at all, and my mutant calves were simply more than they could handle. Whatever, I looked good. Randy looked good. And... really. What else matters the day before one of your best friends gets married? To celebrate the victory of walking out of the tux place with an outfit, we decided to get some Tex-mex.
B got the fish tacos she's been saying she wanted since December, and I got something authentically Tex-mex, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was. This was the beginning of our love affair with Texas Food. Seriously, we ate well. But then, we see a waiter walking to a table with Avocados on his tray. "Avocados? I wonder what those are for." "Oh, I bet it's for tableside Guac." Says I. "Whatever, no it's not." "$10." "Deal." And, to date I'm waiting for B to pay up on that one.
After lunch we got dropped at the hotel, and if you can judge a hotel by the price of in-room bottled water, then this was an $8 bottled-water hotel. Anyways, we relaxed, napped and made our way to the rehearsal. Nice Church? Check. Cool people standing on both sides? Check. Lots of Schmoozing with family? Check? Insane military style wedding coordinator that (I'm not kidding) spent more time making sure that the attendants were standing perfectly spaced than she did on the rest of the ceremony combined? Check.
"Take a half step to your left. No, no… back to your right. Ok good. Wait. Now you both need to take a step left… more… more… stop. Now, you need to be angled more this way. A little more. A little more. No, back. Ok. Wait. Now everyone take a step to your left. You on the end, back to your right. No. Too far." *continue this ad nauseum* "Ok. Now, mark your spot and make sure that's where you end up tomorrow. And gentlemen, when you stand up there, stand with your hands right over left. Not at your side, not left over right, certainly not in your pockets. Right over left." etc, etc, etc...
Seriously (and if I hadn't been so completely terrified of the woman I would have told her), having the bride and her father positioned to the millimeter is excessive. You won't be there to give them direction during the event and they’re going to be paying attention to more important things than that exact spot you put them. That six inches you made them step back is a waste of your time and energy. But. I suppose some people are... ... I'll say exacting. Oh, I will give her props on the whole everyone stand in the same position thing. Not giving us a choice? OCD. But yes. It does look better with us all having our hands held the same way. Now go get a drink and relax.
Then. Well. Then I had the best meal of the year (so far). Simply, and completely, the best meal I've had the first 6 months of '07. Aca y Alla in Dallas. Go there. If you're in Texas. Go there. If you have to fly to Dallas. Go there. Get the Carne Asada. It's worth it. Also: the Tortilla Soup. The rehearsal itself was, to say the least, wholly different than any other rehearsal dinner I'd ever (or expect to again) seen. There was no, "Let's rent out a room and have a nice dinner then go to bed"-attitude it was, "Let's rent out the restaurant and party until we fall over." Over 100 people, live band, open bar… I mean. I'm telling you this was unreal. I’ve been to more subdued wedding receptions. And, I want to emphasize, none of this is at all a negative. It was an absolute blast. There were slideshows, speeches, jokes, and... to top it off. Cuff links. Every groomsman got personal cuff links. I got guitar pick cuff links. They rock. With a capitol R. Anyways, the party went til way after we left, and apparently Mrs. Davis did a shot of Tequila. Which is something I would've paid to see.
Next day was mostly lazy. Chilling in the room, exploring Dallas, then getting ready for the service. And, really, I look good in a Tux. After the shuttle to the church, there were pictures of the guys getting ready, getting bootineers on, the "Reservoir Dogs" video shot, etc, etc, etc. Then there were a few minutes right before we all went out there to look good in front of the 300+ folks that were there for the wedding. To be honest, I teared up a little. Not a lot. But just a bit. It was a nice ceremony with a full choir and the, you know, wedding and all that. After that, more pictures and then to the shuttle to party. Which. My god. They did it up good. B and I had actually gone to the room earlier in the day (same hotel), and it was gorgeous. There were tables everywhere, but they weren't just "This is the Table. This is every table" kind of thing, they were all shapes and sizes. There was foliage around the room (mostly shrubberies), the dance floor was huge only being dwarfed by the stage for the band. There were glowing spherical lights hanging over the dance floor and... just. Damn. When we went in, however, I saw the cake. It was incredibly beautiful (and, I found out later) tasty. Then The crow parted a little, and... I saw It. The most incredible Wedding (Groom’s?) Cake I've ever seen. It was Texas Stadium. With the Godzillatron playing the NCAA Championship game. It was beyond belief.
The party was great. Dancing, talking about Davis, great food, hearing stories about Davis, drinking, telling stories about Eric, the T-Sip*, and Mrs. Davis did another shot of Tequila. This time I was there to take pictures. During all of this, I drank Manhattans. Many, many Manhattans. That is all I remember.
The next day we explored Dallas more... actually. A lot. The whole trip we probably walked an average of 5-10 miles a day. It was a bit ridiculous. We saw the 6th Floor Museum, learned all about the JFK assassination, and actually saw the exact spot he was shot. Then we watch the spot as people behaved very strangely around it. Spent time in the West End, oh! And we went on a Trolley Ride. Not even Holly-Jolly Trolley style, but a real on-rails trolley. It was loud, and not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but it was fun.
All in all Texas was just awesome. We ate well, we drank well, we slept well, we lay by the pool well. Hell, I even got sunburned. Heh. Then we went to go home. Go to the airport about an hour forty-five before take off, and... what? Delayed? What? Ok. Ended up getting delayed about three and a half hours, with something like an hour thirty of it on the plane itself. But, we made it home ok, and after a day of lunch and dinner with my parents, we went home to start the Great Puppy Adventure. But that's another story.
-Jon
* -- The T-Sip. A traditional drinking chant-song-thing from the University of Texas. The Process is as follows: Sing “The Eyes of Texas” and every time you say the words “Eyes,” “Texas” or “You” you drink. The lyrics are:< br/>
The eyes of Texas are upon you, All the live long day. The eyes of Texas are upon you, You cannot get away. Do not think you can escape them, At night, or early in the morn'. The eyes of Texas are upon you, 'Till Gabriel blows his horn!
This is a way to get completely shitfaced in about three minutes flat. Enjoy the T-Sip responsibly.
Molly. Miss Molly to You.
I am, now, a Baby Daddy. And B is her Mommy. Her name is Molly. But you may call her Miss Molly. She is our Beagle. She is beautiful and smart and wondrous and quiet and cute and already crate trained. Have I meantioned that she loves the shit out of me? She freaks out when I'm not here. I think it's because I'm the coolest dog owner in the world (I wouldn't be the dog owner I am w/out B of course) So, I think that, despite the fact that Molly is so totally a daddy's girl, I wouldn't be half as good at being her dad w/out B. That aside, my dog freaking love me.
If you'd like to meet her, awesome. If you have a dog, you might want to wait a week or two so her kennel cough goes away. Other than that she's perfect, and her little dag coughs are cute too.
-Jon
Oh. My. Lord.
I did not find this. Well, I did. But on a website. That wasn't The Wiki. But this is the funniest joke I've heard in months. And if you don't think it's funny, you're not a geek like me.
welcome to 2007 bitches. Its going to be a hell of a year, I can already tell. Right now I'm at the big Z in A2 and I just spent $100 on cheese and meat. Yes, I'm retarded for cheese, what? Hope you New Years eve was as stupendous as mine. It was a hell of a party, peace out.
-Jon
We Live Here Now
Chandler is Dead. Long Live Matt Albie. Long Live Danny Tripp.
I know, it's not supposed to air for a few more days. I don't give two s**ts. I've seen Studio 60, and I've seen the future.
Do you know who Aaron Sorkin is? Of course not. You're a member of the masses. The flock. The hordes of people who don't realize that after four seasons The West Wing stopped. After four seasons, the writer/creator/exec producer (a credit that at any time is really felonious... ask me later) was fired because he turned in scripts late. He smoked a little Mary Jane. Whatever. Who cares? I don't. The Mother Lover created some of the most interesting characters for television, ever. He created a world in which good things really happened; and people were inspired to think about what was actually going on in the world.
I swear to you. His new show. The one about the late night sketch comedy show.... that's going to create some stirs. It's going to turn things around more than the most provocative politico show. Why? Comedy. Seem obvious? I don't think so. Comedy is the great equalizer. Nothing in this world will bring people together like laugher. Really. Think about the things in your life that have really brought people together. 9/11? The anniversary is coming up. How much closer did you feel that day than the last time you were in a theater full of people laughing at some stupid-ass movie?
I remember 9/11. I woke up after the first tower was hit, before the second. My roommate (one of the world's most kind and considerate citizens) hadn't come down to wake me because he knew how I'd react. I went to my physical therapy appointment, visited a high school friend at her dorm, and sat alone. I watched the two towers as they burned, and had never in my life felt so alone.
I remember the last time I watched some silly movie where everything that could go wrong did, but in the end everyone was happy. Damnit. I'll tell you... nothing is quite the same as watching a movie in a theater with a f**kload of strangers laughing at the same stupid jokes, amazed at the fact that this inane little film has brought all of us together.
I've gotta say -- there isn't anything in this world that can make the serious issues seem as accessible as comedy. You might disagree... but I promise you that if you watch the new Sorkin series at least you will be highly entertained, and at most you might see things from a different perspective that youv'e seen them before.
-Jon