Why Plinko hates you.
the life and times of one jaded motherfucker.
:.News of the World.:
Woman In the Dark - Dashiell Hammett
:.Last 6 Books.:
The Catcher In the Rye - JD Salinger
Grendel - John Gardner
Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha - Roddy Doyle
The Road - Cormac McCarthy
Theft - Peter Carey
Saturday - Ian McEwan
:. Bands .:
Jets to Brazil
Philip K. Dick
The Lord of the Rings
The Dark Tower
02/01/2001 - 03/01/2001 03/01/2001 - 04/01/2001 04/01/2001 - 05/01/2001 05/01/2001 - 06/01/2001 06/01/2001 - 07/01/2001 07/01/2001 - 08/01/2001 08/01/2001 - 09/01/2001 09/01/2001 - 10/01/2001 10/01/2001 - 11/01/2001 11/01/2001 - 12/01/2001 12/01/2001 - 01/01/2002 01/01/2002 - 02/01/2002 02/01/2002 - 03/01/2002 03/01/2002 - 04/01/2002 04/01/2002 - 05/01/2002 05/01/2002 - 06/01/2002 06/01/2002 - 07/01/2002 07/01/2002 - 08/01/2002 08/01/2002 - 09/01/2002 09/01/2002 - 10/01/2002 10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 06/01/2003 - 07/01/2003 07/01/2003 - 08/01/2003 08/01/2003 - 09/01/2003 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007
Sunday, August 31
A few hours later and I am lazy and my sinuses are stuffy. I suppose sleeping for four hours on a reclining chair with no blankets in a 45 degree hotel room could increase your risk of developing a cold. I will say it was one of the better hotel room chairs I've slept in.
Before I forget them, I'll share some stories with you.
We stayed at the Marquette Ramada Inn this weekend, along with no small part of the Marquette Senior High class of 1993. This was 10-year-reunion weekend, and it just compounded some of the humor and silliness of the weekend.
For instance, at the dive karaoke bar across the street, we dared other members of the wedding party to dedicate their songs to the class of '93, even going so far as to pour one out for the ones that couldn't be with us.
"This goes out to the class of '93, I can't believe it's been ten years, wooo!"
Follow immediately by singing 'Baby Got Back' in a small bar packed tightly with a wedding party, bored NMU students, class reunion-goers and assorted local oddballs and you have a pretty basic recipe for a night full of laughs.
Some of the enthusiastic graduates even re-lived their high school greatness by swimming out to a large rock island about 200 yards off of Presque Isle and spraypainting a giant 93 on rocks so that it was highly visible from shore. The '93 is clearly visible in several pictures from the shots I took while the wedding photographer took the outdoor pictures.
She said you wouldn't be able to see the number in any of her photos.
I'm actually a little disappointed by that.
Since I like kids and I'm not one for standing around reminiscing about college with the guys, I spent a lot of the wedding day wrangling the ring-bearers, age 6 and 9. Tying shoes, fixing ties and vests and chiding them for eating their corsages. My two favorite stories from the weekend stem from their antics.
In one, the younger boy, Chad, was hanging about the dance floor during a slow song. I asked him why he wasn't dancing with a nice girl. Being six he said he didn't like girls (so much so, in fact, his uncle paid him $20 to hold his four-year-old flower girl cousin's hand as they walked down the aisle during the ceremony).
He said he was waiting for a fast song to dance. In fact, he was about to request 'Who Let the Dogs Out.'
I asked him how much it would take to get him to NOT request that song. He offered $10, but I haggled him down to $3.
I would have considered it money well-spent, if the DJ hadn't played it anyway about half-an-hour later.
I tried getting my money back, but he'd spent it all on dollar dances with his cousin, the bride.
The elder boy, Corey, was the lucky single guy to catch the garter. An 11-year-old cousin of the groom caught the bouquet. I told Corey he'd lucked out, getting to dance with an older girl all by himself.
He ran and couldn't be found.
So, I got nominated to dance with the poor girl, who was so shy she looked at the floor the whole time and danced by holding my left hand and sort of swaying.
When I caught Corey later I asked him why he'd run and he shouted 'because she's ugly!!'
I told him someday he was going to have to grow up and like girls, but he didn't believe me.
And we're back.
The wedding and surrounding festivities were a treat, the drive not so bad as I had feared.
We ended up leaving an hour and forty minutes late, due to my friend from La Crosse getting stuck in a little traffic during his ride over and the nemesis of all Wisconsin-Michigan road trips: the Eastern time zone.
Michigan, you see, lives in Eastern time, even though pretty much all of it resides above states in the Central Time zone. I remembered this as I was packing the car, we would lose an hour once we crossed the Menomonee River bridge.
Luckily, the trip took an hour and fifty minutes less than planned and we pulled into the hotel parking lot at ten minutes to two pm, Michigan time. The drive was mostly uneventful but very pretty.
There are lots of stories to tell, about the class of '93, recliner chairs, karaoke bars, dancing with an 11-year-old, ice machines, drinking in the church parking lot, nearly running out of gas on M-35 and the general beauty of the Marquette area, but I figure you'd rather hear them in person.
I will make the statement now, we should go up there some weekend. It's like Eagle River, only pretty and with decent shopping and things to do. The place where the reception was held was possibly the nicest restaurant/bar/hall I've ever seen. Everything was a hoot, and I forget how nice and wonderful Jana's family is, it's sorta like a big group of Neldners and Chucks only of all ages and with 'eh' on the end of all their sentences.
Thursday, August 28
Okay, so I'm a competitive bastard.
New top Rocket-Mania score: 515,965: Imperial Pyrotechnist.
See if any of you can beat that this weekend.
Also, I went to the Far East restaurant in Appleton on my little date. I though the hot food was good, but I would not recommend getting sushi there. My sashimi had giant pieces of tuna on it, which sounds good in theory, but it's bad for two reasons. One, it's hard to handle and get in your mouth, and, two, I highly doubt the fish was either sashimi grade or very fresh, maybe it was neither.
My sobe noodles were good and cheap, though, and the service was friendly. I maybe would go back, but I'd never suggest it as a place to go.
That's my bit, back to the drudgery.
Ugh. I have a million things to do before I get up bright and early tomorrow to head out for Marquette. I should be watching the Packers play now, but there's just too much.
So, I'll be gone most of the weekend, but I'll be back Sunday night for Robins Nest action and Labor Day grillouts.
Today we had a bridal shower for a co-worker, the purpose for the baked beans mentioned earlier, so I was at work pretty late.
I'd tell you all about last night but I don't have the time to compose my thoughts. You can ask me later, mmkay?
Tuesday, August 26
I came home tonight to an apartment filled with the smell of molasses, mustard and bacon, which together means home-made baked beans. Of course, they're still cooking, so I can't say how they've turned out, but the smell alone is worth the time and effort. I could actually smell it from outside as I walked up the way, it's that strong. Now I know why the white-trash neighbors used to complain about my cooking, because they hated smelling it when all they ever ate was takeout.
I want to be able to come to you and say that it's so great to bake your own beans because its so much cheaper and better tasting and really not all that hard compared to buying several big ol' cans of Busch's Best from the supermarket. I can't say that yet, though the smell is making me feel that way a little already. I'm not so sure it's cheaper, though. 3 pounds of Great Northern Beans, a half-pound of bacon, half a jar of molasses, a few tablespoons of pepared mustard, some brown sugar, some Worcestershire, salt and ground pepper probably cost slightly less than two bulk cans of the supermarket stuff, but running my stove for four hours alone probably costs about as much as the whole shebang, considering the price of natural gas.
So I'll say this, they'd better taste pretty darned good, though I have yet to be failed by a recipe of Mark Bittman's.
I have a tendency to like to start fires at work (figuratively). My favorite one is to pour kerosene between two departments at work, one of whom I adore and the other one I want jettisoned out into space. I'm actually shameless in this, like the bratty sibling constantly alerting your parents to every thing that could possibly be interpreted as misbehavior in the hopes that he gets to witness the punishment. For me, this will be the dispersal of the department staff, the firing/demotion of it's manager or an overhaul of their responsibilities.
I do this for two reasons, really. One is that the hated department is a herd of pigs, whatever you put in, you just get shit. They seem to show a disregard for the way the business runs and a disdain for the needs of other departments, particularly the ones that actually design and make our products - usually the ones you defer to.
The other reason is that the department head has on more than one occasion bitched at me for a long period of time for attempting to get things done in a way she did not like. Ever since then, I have made it my mission to throw as much (legitimate) sand in their face. Every time I get something I can pass to them I do. Every time I get something from them I don't like, I go to someone who can overrule them and bitch.
It sounds cancerous, I know. But the fact is, they are the cancer and I am the chemo drugs. I will pound the system until either they are destroyed or the system can't handle me anymore.
I say this because today I almost got caught, not over my head or in the wrong, but having to confront them directly again. This is a guerrilla war for me, there's too much entrenched seniority for little old me to win a head-to-head. I have to sow the seeds and cultivate things carefully, lest I be discovered and shown up to the wrong people.
I took a particularly egregious edict from team cancer to my team and told them I didn't think this was a good idea, and that they should possibly discuss it with them. Unfortunately for me, they were at the time fuming over another terrible decision made by team cancer and this was the last straw. The manager was called and asked to come down and discuss these decisions. I made as if to go, and was promptly told they wanted me to stay and explain my view of things.
Fortunately for me, she was not at work today, so I got off, though I was called a chicken for not signing up for the confrontation.
I hope to tell you more about the saga, though I suppose it's dangerous to mention specifics about work much on the site, even if I've never mentioned the name of my employer. Maybe I'll save the stories for in-person.
Monday, August 25
Thanks to the generosity of Mother I have access to laundry facilities within my own building. Thanks to Uncle Mikey, I had the tools to make them work properly, so I guess he can be forgiven for not inviting me to join the family for lobster dinner tonight.
It was cheap boxed frozen stuff, so I bet I really wasn't missing anything anyway …
Crazy news at work today, couldn't think things could stay the same for five consecutive minutes now, could I? With luck it won't mean much more than conspiracy theorizing around my area over the next few months and plenty of uncertainty above. It doesn't affect me per se, since I am in no way in the same segment of the company and all, but it will make for plenty of talk.
Meanwhile, back in the humble abode, I'm almost done reading A Cook's Tour. Makes me want to follow in Shan's shoes, only head to Vietnam instead. I could teach English and fill up on noodles all day. Sounds great!
I'm saving insightful commentary for another day, but probably not tomorrow, since I need to make a large amount of baked beans. Or Wednesday, since that's the date and I wouldn't want to blow all my interesting conversation on you chump-os. So, maybe wait until Thursday to come back, unless you like this sort of mindless drivel.
Which obviously you do.
Sunday, August 24
I'm full of stew and dumplings and I have a date Wednesday evening.
How did we get here? Well, yesterday I traipsed around the state capitol with Velveteen and her brother looking at vegetables and flowers. I really didn't buy much, since I don't really need anything and I can't entertain for a few weeks. I bought just some carrots, leeks, some jams and honey.
Then we ate at Tutto Pasta with Mozybot and her two younger boys. We we waited upon by TJs girlfriend and the food was very very good, much much better than any of the Italian restaurants around here that serve much less exciting fare for higher prices. Just for the record, I thought your nephews were a hoot, Miss Velveteen, but I don't know if I'd want to raise them.
Today I took an early-morning bike ride to Hortonville, where the WIOUWASH apprarently mysteriously ends, though I thought it went much, much further. Following that I made a stew of the leeks and carrots with some potatoes and the terrible pepper steaks my parents bought from that guy with the truck. The steaks actually made pretty darned good stew meat, so now I know what they're good for.
During the process I started reading A Cook's Tour and got a phone call from the lady mentioned in the posts from Thursday and last Saturday. She has the art thing down, as she has a degree in painting and art history. We're going out for sushi Wednesday night at a place highly recommended to me by her sisters boss, who I suspect may have been hitting on me at the time she made the recommendation.
Perhaps its best that I don't mention this again? I guess I'be said plenty of stupider things directed at people who have read this thing. I think I'm over trying to predict how, whom and when I will offend.
I wonder who it is that visits here regularly from the erstwhile employer about whom I feel no compunction about trashing on these hallowed pages? I suppose it could be the writer from the P-C, though I hope for his sake he's not so unexciting as to peruse the online diary of a one-time interview subject.
I like to imagine it's one of my former bosses who like to get irate when I mention them and secretly giggle at every typ-o, proving that they were right all along that that kid wasn't fit for their high standards. Or, maybe it's just some curious employee who enjoys my restaurant reviews, it's a fun little mystery that I don't think I want solved.
If it's someone obessively reading this looking for criticism, today's paper was a little boring, but the only glaring deficiency I saw in the news was a failure to mention that you sponsor the event you tout every year on your site this morning. There should be a little note about disclosure in the ethics manual your editors bandy so much about when they get up on their soapboxes to spout from time to time.
But I digress. Or, not, depending on whether or not you view the above as a logical followup to the declaration that I'm starting to quit caring whom I offend?
I suppose getting back on track would imply that I get cleaning up after dinner and run a few last weekend errands before hitting the Robins Nest.
Such a fitting name, I don't think we laud UPB enough for that moment of cleverness.
Friday, August 22
I took the afternoon off because it was nice out and I really didn't have all that much work to do.
I was going to take the whole day off to get ready to head up North for the weekend, but that was cancelled because people didn't really want to go.
So, instead, it's off to Madison tomorrow for the Farmers Market and miscallenous shopping.
That's what I got.
Thursday, August 21
Believe it or not, I called the girl mentioned in my post from Saturday, but she wasn't home.
I'm giving myself an 'A' for effort.
Then I managed to ratchet my best Rocket Mania score to 251,440.
Now it's just about bedtime.
Wednesday, August 20
Volleyball was ass.
But, I remembered what it was that I had to say.
I know this makes me some sort of geek (too late) but it drives me crazy that our official font of the human resources department is comic sans. Getting a letter on your retirement plan in this font is slightly disconcerting, let me tell you.
Okay, geek lesson over for the day, back to your daily routine of porn and booze.
Okay, some happy news.
I obilterated my top score in Rocket Mania tonight just before heading out for volleyball, 183,450. My previous high was about 34,000. That's quite an improvement.
My god, it's hot and oppressive outside.
I distinctly remember coming home from work with something specific in mind about which to blog. Damned if I can remember it now. Was it work-related? Who knows!
Now that I visited the county newspaper of record, I have new things to be unnecessarily angry about. My former employer, in their downward spiral of journalistic integrity, placed a story on the 'big-draw' events located in Oshkosh making someone's Top 100 list of events as their top story of the day.
Now, the journalistically-inclined among you need read only the story's lede to know that this is a "news" story rather than actual news, since it sheds any appearance of objectivity in it's first line.
But going deeper than that, the obvious questions are never asked: who compiles the list and what criteria do they use?
You have to pay to join the website that makes up the list. Nowhere does it explain the selection process or make any claim to have even visited any of the events so listed. Why is the Minnesota State Fair listed and not the Wisconsin? Is it because Minnesota's is that much more fun, or because Minnesota's State Fair paid the $80 annual membership fee and Wisconsin's did not? It sounds more like one of those schemes where some shady publishing company promised to make you a published poet for $50. (Speaking of that scheme, the Nowhere has fallen for calling that newsworthy on occasion in the past).
Why do that, you ask? Why question what is just a nice bit of happy news about the city in which I live?
The simple answer is that it's a journalist's duty to report the whole truth, and not just run with a press release, which this most surely is.
The slightly more complicated answer is that this will surely be touted by the organizers of such events as reason for more government aid for and less restriction on their events and similar events that could come up in the future. That falling for this hype could cost taxpayers money if governmental agencies and officials start to believe this kind of purchased acclaim. It's irresponsible of the editorial staff to jump right into bed with the organizers of such events and become their cheerleaders. If the kudos are legitimate, then asking the questions will bear that out, but the fact that such questions are never asked is a glaring error that leads one to believe that they are at best incomplete and at worst paid for by the people it touts.
Just another example of the black hole of ethics that that paper has become. It happens every day, but like a car wreck, I can't turn my head from it's disgusting, twisted mess.
Tuesday, August 19
Back to work, work, work today and the endless frustration that comes from dealing with certain other departments. I am frequently amazed at how some people get by in their jobs wearing blinders, unable to notice much less care about how what they do affects everyone else. Sometimes its enough to make me look at jobs other places, but not really. Yet.
The good news is that next month I get to take my first work trip, but it's only to Tennesee for a few days to see how the DCs work. It's not nearly as exciting as Singapore or Shanghai or Hong Kong as some people we know will get to visit before the year's out.
I've noticed a lot of hits lately for two things, local restaurants (which makes me think I should work harder on the reviewing, since I get a hit or two a week for various eateries I've mentioned) and #5 on the list over there. My only message for those people is I wish I knew more about her, too, but nothing doing.
Today being Tuesday I have indulged in my Tuesday routine of fish sticks and reading the Onion. Am I the only one who has the Onion's stupid ad system make the whole site suck, not showing up at all half the time?
Speaking of America's Finest News Source, looks like work is really racking up the media kudos, just check this week's infographic.
Monday, August 18
So you might have heard that work got virused into submission today. The best part is that the thing that hosed the work servers was not the Blaster worm, but the 'good-worm' variant that someone released which goes around removing the Blaster worm and then looking for other computers to fix.
Maybe it makes me a bit of a nerd to laugh at it, but I find that endlessly hilarious.
So, as you might already know or be able to glean from the preceeding paragraphs, work was nonexistant today. Most people went home since we couldn't use any of the programs that make up everything I do all day. I managed to do some filing and handwritten things that needed doing rather than be sent home and expected to make up the time later in the week.
We tried to convince our boss that we should just have gone work competitive shopping instead of twiddling our thumbs and I think we almost got it, too. But I ended up doing customs paperwork all afternoon instead that I had been putting off.
You know what really really bugs me? When people complain about things under their control. You know, the ones that bitch about things where the only solution is 'maybe you should stop being stupid.'
You know what I mean, the lady at work who spends all day bitching about what a terrible person her ex-husband is or what a manipulative mama's boy her child is. Everything that she says can be translated directly to "I like to make bad decisions and then refuse to stop talking about it."
The best is always right along the lines of 'I can't tell him (her son) to do that, he's too spoiled.'
Urge to kill rising . . .
Now, I'm happy to report none of my friends are this kind of person, but just in case you're ever tempted, please don't do it. It just makes people hate you.
I didn't mention that my sushi making efforts had mixed results. The first day went okay, mostly junk but it's what I expected. It's not something you do the first day, you know? But day 2 went much better, the rice tated good and some of the rolls even looked nice. Too bad you can't really get sashimi-grade seafood very easily here in the midwest.
I have an urge to go off about the way the midwest is portrayed in movies, but it would all be for naught. Besides the old Onion article " 'Midwest' discovered between East, West coasts' says it all, really. Too bad it's not available online. I'll just have to giggle over it in my copy of the Finest News Reporting.
Sunday, August 17
I am full, and believe it or not the house is cleaner than it was on Friday already.
There are a number of reasons I enjoy entertaining, chief among them that I already like to cook and entertaining allows me to try bigger and more things. There's also the fact that we can sit around after a big meal and gab without getting the stink-eye from anyone, and of course, it's super cheap compared to going out. I would venture to say that making dinner for 10 costs me about what it would cost for two dinners out for just me for comparable food. The corn is $3 a dozen, for crying out loud! Why aren't I eating that every day I ask, why?
The downers are mostly cleanup, lack of variety for the picky folks (though few are pickier than me, so it works out) and the kitchen taking on oven duties.
It was so hot in the kitchen when I was carving the roast today that the leftover soup was boiling and the range had been off for five hours, seriously.
It's still 90 in there now, I swear.
The rest of the house is fairly pleasant, in contrast.
So, this settles it, the new place is jim-dandy and just a little prettier now. I guess someday I should consider putting things on the walls. And maybe doing some laundry would be smart.
I just thought of this now, why are we waiting until February for the next formal? Why didn't we have one Halloween weekend? I mean, people like parties at that time, it's many of our favorite holidays, and it's actually less than six months away. People we know like to wear black, that's all I'm saying. I suppose it's too late now, but once the idea got in my head I just had to share.
Saturday, August 16
Things are running more smoothly at home now that I have everything working again, communications-wise. I still need a lampshade for the thermos which I stole from Mr. Chan's Machine, other than that I just have to move all the boxes downstairs.
This has already been a productive time for me. Woke up at 7:30, went to the Farmer's Market for some vegetables (beets, carrots and red onions) with Phil, then we went to Allen's Allenville Produce to get some more vegetables (the world's finest sweet corn and also a few leeks). Then I took Phil home so he could head to Sheboygan. After that I drove out west of Omro to Kountry Pride to get a roast for Sunday. I got a nice big boneless rib roast, some celery-dill pickles and a package of Weyauwega Star cheese curds (sorry, the cheese is for me today). Anyone excited for tomorrow yet?
I was very tempted to stop at the Main Street Cafe for some eggs on the way home, but decided the roast shouldn't sit in the warm car that long. Next time I'll remember to eat breakfast before heading to the butcher.
Anyway, the point is it's been a great morning, the countryside was especially pretty, I bought lots of great looking food and it's not even noon. My bread dough is warming up now so I can let it rise while I'm out videotaping a wedding, then I'll come home to bake it and practice making California Rolls. If I have time I'll take a bike ride and watch one of the movies I rented.
Funny story, I got paged on the overhead at work yesterday, which is a super-rare occurence what with the phone and e-mail at my desk added to the fact that no one ever needs me right now for anything. So I called the number and it was someone asking me if I wanted to go out with their sister. I almost asked them why on earth that was so important I needed to be paged, but I thought it might seem a little rude.
So that's a good use of the company speaker system.
Okay, so I need to shower and put on nice clothes to make some videotapin' money right after I roll out some bread. I love domesticity.
Thursday, August 14
And on the seventh day, they fixed the Internet.
I still can't figure out what it was that they fucked up so badly that it took seven days to fix when it only took them two to get it installed in the first place.
I wanted to have some stories to tell, but work's mostly been a blur, so I don't have anything that comes to mind, really. That or I'm now so used to being unable to share all the good stuff with all y'all that I don't know what to write anymore.
I need to get ready for Sunday, lots of cleaning and cooking to do.
Wednesday, August 13
Still nothing significant to report on the telephone front. Well, nothing except SBC sucks.
I've been in a habit of starting firestorms at work lately. It's my new hobby.
I'd tell you all about them but the fact is, I've got the lame Blogger interface here at work and no sir, I don't like it.
This whole no phone and no Internet thing has made me delinquent about announcing plans for the party Sunday. I still can check my e-mail at work, but I don't have my address books. If you feel you don't know what's going on and should, pop me a message.
Saturday, August 9
You may be mad that I haven't posted much lately, but not as mad as I am.
You see, for like two whole days I had working Internet and phone service. But, thanks to the douchebaggery at SBC, I am again without service. Seems they decided to try and 'fix' my line somehow on Friday. Only by 'fixing' they meant 'cut off'. So, I am without my lifeblood again until Monday at the earliest. This time I am going to make a stink once it's hooked up again to the tune of give me back some money, jackholes.
I'd like to regale you further, but the game is back on. And last time I posted hurriedly, I got in trouble. So, maybe later, yo.
Wednesday, August 6
I like time wasters:
plinko is all important
plinko is love and to love divine therefore plinko is god and god is plinko and he will strike you down
plinko is a motivating and interesting vehicle for the study of many of the important concepts
Uhh. . . okay
plinko is doing rather poorly this year
Not at all true!
plinko is taking up some space in the back seat of the car
Funny, I swear I'm in my apartment.
plinko is an imaginary character
plinko is to grace a wall with something intriguing
plinko is good to have a round for useless packer knowledge
plinko is sooo right
plinko is not a troll
I thought it was obvious.
plinko is veruca's hero and she's aspiring to be as wise as he was
Good for her.
plinko is huge
In certain ways, wink
plinko is some crap
Damn dirty lies.
oshkosh is really truckin'
You could say that.
oshkosh is only adequate
More people would agree with this one.
oshkosh is a city as proud of its name as was the chief that bore it
Unverifiable, but possible.
oshkosh is also served by one dentist
oshkosh is the central hub of the psychic energy grid of wisconsin
Uhhhh. . . okay.
oshkosh is an affirmative action/equal opportunity employer and values diversity
I'm sure it does.
oshkosh is a 10
I've seen better.
oshkosh is a growing and thriving community…a city to be enjoyed
Like a fine wine.
oshkosh is almost beyond belief
oshkosh is the busiest airport in the world for the one week a year it is open
This is the first year the airport was closed. . .
oshkosh is served by the chicago
It's about damn time.
oshkosh is nirvana
I'm sure Kurt would be glad to hear it.
oshkosh is c
And that's good enough for me.
oshkosh is responsible for all phases of propulse technology development
So that's who it was!
oshkosh is offering a small line of men's jeans
oshkosh is a strange phenomenon
Three Helens agree.
oshkosh is much less intimidating than it's sometimes characterized to be
Durrrrrr. . .
oshkosh is in itself a major contribution to the community
oshkosh is a fellowship of believers in the lordship of jesus christ
oshkosh is not liable for your retention of the card after issuance
Finally, the truth comes out.
Tuesday, August 5
We'll have a healthy dose of politics today, because it's just been that kind of day. I have the Internet back, which means we can return to the healthy banter and polemics that make your regular visits here rewarding. I want you to know I appreciate your readership immensely.
I get UW-O professor Tony Palmeri's Commentary newsletter, mostly because he occasionally talks about local issues in a way that's intgeresting. The downside is he is the kind of liberal that drives clear-thinking people to vote Republican and this is only intesified during the summer when I imagine he has little else to do other than write diatribes about Governor Doyle and mass media ownership.
But, every once in a while, a gem pops up in his update that makes all the muck worth it. It wasn't in America's Favorite Daily, but the Cap Times printed (and Palmeri included in his update) this little story that should be endlessly hilarious to myself, UPB and Abraxis to be certain, and probably most of you, if you recognize the man getting blamed for the snafu.
I've not made a secret of my fervent support for Gov. Doyle. It disappoints me to see the small-minded of each political wing cry foul every time he does something good for the state simply because it violates one of their sacred political myths. Thus, it was nice to see the Journal-Sentinel come out supporting the Governor's veto of mandatory IDs at the voting booth. It's one of those ideas that sounds far better than it actually would be, and the J-S points out exactly why the only way to oppose Doyle's veto is through illogic.
Lastly if I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times, I'm convinced that the best columnist in the country is the Miami Herald's Leonard Pitts. He has a knack for writing politically and sensibly that no one else really has. Even when I disagree with him, he's never stupidly offensive like most, he's earnest and respectful of the opposition. Every year he goes without a Pulitzer is a travesty in my opinion.
Today's column on gay marriage is a prime example of his ability to advocate a position so well I can't imagine how any reasonable person would disagree with him. Of course, it's easier when it's a view I also hold very strongly. My little warning is that this is a hot-button issue for me, like opposing the death penalty or hating the Minnesota Vikings . If you hold the opposite view, I recommend you keep it to yourself if you wish to remain on speaking terms with me.
Somehow it has gotten unbearably hot in the place, so I'm going to turn the A/C on. It could have something to do with me still being all hot and sweaty from my earlier bike ride, or it could be a sign to stop using the oven all the goddamn time.
I woke up at 3am with the radio on and that Gladys Knight and the Pips song on about how she'd rather live in his world with him than live in her own world alone and I laid there head spinning trying to fall asleep and I thought to myself 'Oh, Gladys, girl, I love you but, oh, get a life!'
Monday, August 4
I might have my IV to the Internet hooked up again tomorrow, if I'm lucky. The guy came over andtried and said there was some banana banana banana that needed to be fixed downtown before it would work. I would have appreciated it had he just hooked up the phone line, since that was fine. But he didn't.
My wonderful, wonderful boss is back at work this week, so sooner or later we can start to cleanup all the messes I've made. Really, it wasn't so bad as I feared it would be, but it was pretty messy all the same.
I would like to tell you a story about something from work to illustrate how the process is often fucked up at work, but the crazy keyboard here at UPB and Velveteen's makes me want to type much less and I still have two other little things to say.
One is that I am NOT going to St. Louis this weekend. The trip is postponed until September or possibly October in case you were wondering.
The second is that I feel kinda sneaky and underhanded. I wrote something recently purely to see what kind of reaction I could get, and it worked. It wasn't entirely a true statement (on the blog here), but I think the result was worth the effort. I like to find out who really reads this thing, you know.
Back to the football!
Sunday, August 3
If there is a limit to how much food my person can ingest in a 48-hour period, I'm pretty sure I darn near hit it this weekend.
I spent a lot of money shopping for clothes and spices, ate four really great meals, geeked out on work things and basically had a really great time this weekend down in Southeast WI.
The 'housewarming party' is two weeks from today, so mark your calendars. I'll provide more details on what to do later. Mostly, it will be me telling you to come over and eat. The place is bigger than the old one, but not so big I can just invite 100 people, so I still need to work out the details of exactly what kind of party I want to have. Other than one with gumbo and california rolls, I'm not sure yet.
I wish I could be more specific and, yes, more interesting. But I'm getting tired of my parents house, so you'll have to wait for my place to get the technology hook-up, yo.