Channeling da Boo-Boo
Saturday, February 24, 2007
WARNING: The post below is not suited for all reading audiences. It was written when I was pretty ticked off and the language within refelcts that anger. You have been warned.
Overheard on flight from LA to Cincinnati (some pompous California bitch):
"Look how ugly it is. No wonder they call it the armpit of America. Yeah, that's what they call it. The armpit of America. I hear it's the ugliest city in the country. Or maybe that's Cleveland. Look at how close together their houses are. They don't even have backyards like we do. Look at the pools, they don't have fences around them. That's because they have underground wire fences. A current runs through them and it shocks the dogs when they try to cross it. I feel so sorry for so-and-so's son, he comes out here to go to school in Columbus. I don't know why he would want to be here."
Holy fucking shit! Are you seriously judging a city based on (a) your stupid, uninformed opinions based on rumors from other stuck-up Californian ass-hats, and (b) what you see of when you're fucking FLYING OVER IT? Wow, I hope I never have to be tried by a jury with your prejudiced spoon-fed ass on it. Of course Cincinnati isn't going to look like paradise right now, it's the middle of the fucking winter! You wouldn't know anything about that, though, because you think winter is when it drops to 50º and starts to sprinkle, which you call a Winter Storm and talk for years to your friends about "that awful winter storm we had back in '94". Fuck off. Oh, and by the way, the armpit of America is New Jersey, you ignorant fuck. Everyone knows that. And you know what, it's probably a hell of a lot nicer than the desert covered state you call home, where you have to steal half of the Western US's natural water supply. You want to talk about ugly cities? Look in your own backyard, bitch. Let's judge Los Angeles based on your criteria. Riddled with gang warfare, voluptuous bimbos who are dumber than a rotting log, illegal immigrants running rampant. When I fly into LA, all I see is houses on top of houses. Where are the backyards? There aren't any, douchebag. And what's that layer of brown fog? Oh, that's right, it's a thick layer of pollution that's going to cause lung cancer in half the kids that grow up there. And where's the greenery? There isn't any! You gluttonous pigs paved over every last fucking inch of it with concrete so you could further contribute to the incessant traffic and carcenogenic cloud that forever lingers over your god-forsaken city. And what the fuck are you talking about with pools and fences? I looked out the window and I could see fences around all those houses. Maybe you should go see a fucking optometrist, you senile bitch. Do everyone in the Midwestern and Southern states and keep your resource-gobbling ass out. It would be a waste of space and oxygen to support your pathetic life, you smug bitch. You know who I feel sorry for? Me. Because I have to live with the likes of you for another 3.5 months, and maybe more.
Author: Goat » Comments:
Man at Work
Friday, February 23, 2007
No, I'm not talking about the kick-ass guitarist that was a member of the '80s band "Men at Work" who now appears semi-regularly on Scrubs, although that guy is sweet. I'm talking about myself. I'm at work. And not doing much. The company decided to axe my team from the project on which we were working, which was two weeks later than they axed everyone else. Good times. So this week has been entirely devoted to finding a new project. Which means the majority of my days have been pretty boring. There has definitely been a lot of message board reading, blog reading, talking to insurance companies and US Customs about Rashanda, and studying for my CCNA.
I finally found my new position yesterday right before I left work, so I'm just waiting for all the bureaucratic red tape to get cut so I can move to my new office and begin immersing myself in documentation so I can contribute something in my last 3.5 months at this office. I'm still not sure where my last rotation will be, but I'm pulling for Redondo Beach or San Diego. It's not that I want to stay in California, per se, but rather that those locations are actually doing wireless communications work. Seeing as how I have yet to apply my studies from grad school to my job, I figure those would be spots to remedy that problem.
In other fun news, I'm headed to Purdue tomorrow! The company is sending me out there to recruit, so I'm making a long weekend out of it and getting some Ginger time in. Hopefully Rooster will call me back later today and tell me he's able to grab dinner in Indy Saturday night. Animal House Roommate Reunion!
Labels: Ginger, Rashanda, work
Author: Goat » Comments:
Fat Tuesday
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Ah yes, Mardi Gras. The time of year when we Catholics say goodbye to meat, but not before a binge-fest of biblical proportions. But if you think this post is about my sinful excesses, well then you're just plain wrong. Fool. While cool people like Crowley were having women flash their boobs at them to earn beads, I was staring at a computer screen and attending a lecture on systems engineering. Everyone wants to be me.
The one bright moment of today was that my Valentine's Day gift finally arrived, and it was freakin' sweet! Yup, someone (*cough* not my ND friends *cough*) finally got me some super sweet Strong Bad apparel, and that someone is my super hot girlfriend. And that someone is getting a special thank you when I see her this weekend. I'm going take her to the zoo. And that's not a metaphor. What?
I also got "Strong Bad Sings! (and other type songs)", which may be more awesome than the shirt. Booya.
Oh yeah, speaking of Lent, I'm giving up using the computer at home except for things like paying bills. So that means no posts from home. Which means all posts will be from work. I probably shouldn't have put that in writing. On the internet. Oh well.
Labels: Ginger, Lent, Strong Bad
Author: Goat » Comments:
Hi-larious e-mails
Monday, February 19, 2007
One of the unfortunate side-effects of having a very common name (my birth name, not Goat) and owning the GMail address for it is that I get a lot of e-mail intended for other people. Many of them have been quite interesting -- search results from Monster.com (who knew I was looking for a new job?) and internship offers from judges in Missouri, just to name a few. These have been mildly amusing and I have enjoyed responding and kindly explaining the mishap.
Then I got this e-mail:
Subject: What the craic?
Dood-
TWAT UP? R U COMING TO 2 FRISCO LET US KNO CUZ WE HURD U WAS.........HOLLERATIT
LOVE,
ANNIE AND SONIA AND WAYNE
Okay, let's start from the top. The word "craic" in the subject line is actually attributed to the Gaelic language and means "fun, good times, good company." If you do a
little research you'll find that it is pronounced "crack" and that the question, "What's the craic?" is common in colloquial vernacular. So, barring the missing astrophe "s", we can assume the sender is reasonably intelligent and even possesses knowledge of Irish slang.
Then there's the rest of the message. Wow. To quote Will Ferrell playing Alex Trebek, "And the show has reach an all-time low." By "the show" I mean "America", and by "an all-time low" I mean "a bleak future."
Okay, maybe I'm being an elitist pig here, but is it that hard to spell out words and use halfway proper punctuation? I can let the slang slide because it's a personal message and sometimes you want you voice to come through the writing. I'll even let the lack or proper capitalization slide for the same reason. But there's no need to shout. Turn off CAPS LOCK, fool.
A few days later I receieved another e-mail, this time from a different member of the trio.
Subject: yeaah
keep it choice dog just chillin in s.f.
A slight improvement, but still. Yikes.
I have come to a few possible conclusions:
- These people are on crack. Not craic. Cocaine.
- They are the children of hippy liberalists that infest the San Francisco area. This would support conclusion one (See South Park episode titled "Smug Alert")
- They are the result of a society that promotes laziness and an "everybody wins" mentality (see "Hippies"), and as a result have never been motivated to learn to type or speak properly.
And people think Kentuckians are stupid.
Labels: e-mail, grammar, hippies, I'm surrounded by morons
Author: Goat » Comments:
I want my baby back, baby back, baby back...
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I got a letter form U.S. Customs this weekend telling me that they are finally ready to "remit the forfeiture of my vehicle," which is a bunch of fancy lawyer jargon for "you can have your car back." That's right, bitches, Rashanda the Honda is that much closer to making her way back into my arms! Sadly, nothing is easy when the government is involved, so there are still several steps before I get my baby back. I have to sign a Hold Harmless Agreement, pay storages fees (which will probably be about $700 which I'm not happy about), schedule an insurance adjuster, get the car towed back to LA, get the registration re-instated, and so on, and so on. Basically, it's going to take up a whole weekend here soon. The worst part is that I still have no idea what shape she is in. All I've been told is that the radio is gone (big surprise) and that Customs had to remove some sort of "compartment."
In our own form of civil boycott, my roommates and I have decided to form our own 50-mile bicycle ride right here in the safety of the U-nited States of Amerka. We're calling it the "Dude, Where's My Car" Bicycle Ride. Some of us, whose names rhyme with "boat," are fondly refering to it as the "Fuck Mexico"* Bicycle Ride. I'll let you think about that one for a bit. Anyways, the ride will begin somewhere in the vacinity of Buellton or Solvang and wind it's way down PCH to the town of Carpenteria, where there will be much drinking and debauchery, and no car thefts. We still have to map out the route, but we intend to hold the event on or about the same weekend as the Rosarito-Ensenada ride (that's the one where Rashanda was kidnapped).
As for the rest of this past weekend, everything rocked. The
barcade lived up to all expectations. Old school games at old school prices (just a quarter!) and PBR in a can for two bucks. Two bucks! I know, I know, that's $1.50 too much. But for LA nightlife, a two dollar beer is something special. Follow it all up with
Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles and you have a hell of an evening.
Saturday night was Mel & Jess's Mardi Gras party, complete with beads, masks, and streamers, none of which were used properly. None of the girls actually earned their beads, so that was a disappointment. Mostly it was just a grand occassion for getting housed. Mel apparently took advantage of said opportunity as she doesn't remember much of anything from the party. Well done.
Booter and I began watching the complete series of
The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. If you have never seen this show, well, then you're in a sad state of affairs. Or blessed, depending how you look at it. To give you an idea of the target audience, my Dad absolutely loves the show for it's sense of humor. You've been warned. Or encouraged. You decide.
* Note: I don't hate all of Mexico, just the petty thieves, drug dealers, corrupt cops, and diarrhea-causing water.
Labels: Los Angeles, Mexico, Rashanda, TV, US Customs, weekend
Author: Goat » Comments:
Working for the weekend
Friday, February 09, 2007
This week has been pretty easy at work, relatively. We finally moved out of the sweatshop and into a spacious bay with real desks and climate control, so if nothing else the environment is much improved. Plus the days are getting longer so it's no longer dark when I go home. Nevertheless, I can't wait for the weekend to start. That's in ten minutes, and it seems like an eternity.
I don't even have anything back planned for the weekend. Two of the roommates are out and the other is never around, it seems, so I guess I'll figure out something. I'm not too worried, though. I could use a laid couple of days.
When I leave work tonight I'm headed to meet Mel for dinner at the El Segundo Fish Co. I'm pretty stoked because I haven't gotten to chill with Mel in a while. I think we serve cheap therapy for each other. And we trade back massages -- something I sorely miss since I'm no longer near Ginger. After dinner we're meeting up with Gilbert to check out a "barcade" in Koreatown. Apparently they have vintage 80s arcade games like Rampage, Ms Pacman, and Galaga, and serve beer. Could I fit the target audience any better? Grew up in the 80s? Check. Nerd who loves old school games? Check. Loves to drink beer? Check. Tonight has some pretty high expectations to live up to.
I have successfully killed the last ten minutes of work. So long, suckers!
Labels: video games, weekend
Author: Goat » Comments:
Why am I still here?
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Your prayers didn’t work. I’m still sitting in Concourse B waiting for my plane to arrive so I can get home. In the words of Dr. Eliot Reid, “Frick!” I would be halfway to the West Coast except that my connecting flight happened to be the only Southwest flight to leave when the ticket said the plane would leave. I’m serious. In all my flights on Southwest I have never boarded a plane prior to the departure time listed for the flight. Never. So when I showed up to my gate at the exact time shown on the ticket, you can imagine my surprise that the plane had just backed away from the jetway. All this after the flight attendant on my delayed first flight assured me that I would make the plane.
At least I get to watch the Super Bowl. 19-14, Colts.
Author: Goat » Comments:
My Kind of Town
Greetings from Chicago’s Midway airport! You can thank Southwest airlines for this blog post, as they’re responsible for me missing my connection. So here I am, sitting in a white rocking chair, trying to watch the Super Bowl while four pubescent girls are doing rhythmic gymnastics in front of the TV. Don’t they know it’s the freakin’ Super Bowl?? And besides, it’s the Bears and Colts!! And we’re in freakin’ Chicago! Nevertheless, these girls are doing some pretty weird things with their bodies and hoola hoops. I would describe them to you, but that would require that I pay attention to them and thus look like a perv. The last thing I need today is to get accused of staring at teenage girls at Midway airport.
I spent the weekend visiting Ginger for Valentine’s Day. I know, I know, it’s not for another two weeks. Well, when you are 2,000 miles from your significant other, you celebrate these things when you can. I last saw her over New Year’s, so this fit right into our one-month-between-visits paradigm.
All in all, it was a pretty laid-back weekend. After lunch on Saturday morning (we slept through breakfast), Ginger wanted to go searching for a new winter coat as her old one was used as an ashtray last weekend at the bars. But I had a little trick up my sleeve. She had mentioned a one-of-a-kind jacket a few weeks ago that she really liked but couldn’t quite afford. Being the ever-perceptive and sly dog that I am, I called up my buddy Mark and ask him to go pick up the coat. I did it just in the nick of time, too, because Ginger happened upon a sizeable sum of cash last week and went to buy the coat herself just 2 hours after Mark and I secured the item. Needless to say, she was heart broken to find it gone, which made it all the better when I gave it to her on Saturday. Goat: 1, Other Guys: 0.
We ended up going to the mall anyways and shopping around. Ginger was having a hard time getting motivated to do work on her thesis a couple weeks ago, so I made a deal with her: make a list of tasks that need to be done before I got in town and if she finishes them all before I arrive, I’d buy her a new pair of shoes. Well, she didn’t finish in time and only missed it by a hair. I offered to reward her anyways, but she wouldn’t have it. She ended up buying a pair of shoes for herself (justified since she saved all that money on her jacket). I ended up getting a pretty sweet pair of shoes to replace the pair that suddenly disappeared last week. In typical own-worst-enemy fashion, I lost a pair of shoes. No clue where they are.
We finished the evening off with Steve, Kristy, and roommates at the new Irish pub in Lafayette. I was begging for one of these my entire time at Purdue, but they go and wait until after I leave to put one in. One order of fish & chips and six Guinnesses later, we head up to Harry’s. Did I mention that it was in single digits all weekend? Thank heavens for the booze blanket.
So here we are. It’s 16-14, Colts. I’m enjoying my old-fashioned rocking chair, typing a blog post, and trying not to look sketchy (I shaved my beard this weekend, so that should help). I’m also recovering from the final stages of a hangover coupled with a sinus infection. The hangover’s on it’s way out. The sinus infection looks like it’s here to stay. And now it’s time I head back to my gate because my flight boards in 45 minutes. Pray that it leaves on time.
Author: Goat » Comments:
I'm your bi-atch
Apparently I am Jism’s bi-atch, seeing as how I only update my blog when she complains enough. I’m not one to bite the hand that feeds me, so I want to say thanks to Jism for being such a loyal and interactive reader. The rest of you, get with the program!
Okay, so I guess the appropriate thing to do would be to catch you up on the happenings of my life. In the spirit of the Tone shot, though, I’m going to do the super-accelerated version. Annnnnd go!
Christmas was awesome. Animaniacs, Danger Mouse, music stand, shirts. No Strong Bad related gifts (booooo). Good food. Good family time. Trip to Michigan (driving through Buckeye Nation. Ugh).
New Years was also awesome. Saw the special lady friend, took her to a concert on New Year’s. Gnarls Barkley = freakin’ sweet. Flaming Lips = freakin’ weird.
Work is work. I make drawings. No one uses them. I write documents. No one uses them. At least we’ll be moving out of our sweatshop environment soon.
Swimming class two nights a week is kicking my ass. Once I figure out the breathing, I should be good. Concert band is also kicking my ass. Too much downtime is bad for the embouchure. E-fest makes for awesome Thursday nights. Studying for CCNA certification when I have down-time.
Matthias’s birthday fest one weekend. INCOSE conference the next. All day college hoops when I don’t have anything planned. Went to see Ginger this weekend. Northern Indiana = freakin’ cold.
Well, that about sums it up. I’ll see if I can’t go into more details in the near future. I’m about to get on a plane back to LA, so maybe I can bang out a few posts during the flight.
Oose.
Author: Goat » Comments:
