Well, I bought a shiny new watch today… to replace the one that went a.w.o.l. a few weeks ago. And you know what that means? It means that I am bound to find my original watch. That’s just the way thing seem to work.
I also lost my gloves. And I may have lost my cell fone. And clearly, this is my finest blog entry yet.
I’ve officially declared Fridays to be the day of untucked-in shirts at work. So, untuck that shirt everybody! Join me in corporate rebellion!
UPDATE: Hmmm… a coworker just informed me that, contrary to what my brain insists on, today is not Friday. I’ve got three devices on my person at this very instant that shout (visually) the day, time, and date. You’d think that one of these devices would be able to penetrate the morning-brain force field… but alas, much like the Death Star, its defenses are too strong. “It’s defenses are designed around a direct large-scale assault. A small one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense.” For this Death Star/Morning Brain analogy to work, we need to make a few replacements. Let’s substitute “a small one-man fighter” with “a cup of coffee.” “It’s defenses are designed around a direct large-scale assault. A cup of coffee should be able to penetrate the outer defense.”
See how relevant this is? Whoever took Star Wars out of basic high school curriculum should be thrown in the garbage mashers on the detention level.
“Listen to them! They’re dying, Artoo! Curse my metal body! I wasn’t fast enough. It’s all my fault!”
What’s the only thing better than a giant fake transforming robot (with dancing skills that would put John Revolta to shame)? A real robot built by Honda that can run (click here for video).
This the cutest thing that I have seen in a while. I want one! Asimo is totally going on my xmas list for next year…
Yes, it’s 3 a.m.. What am I doing posting to my blog at this ungodly hour? I have no idea… Actually, I’m just that devoted to this weblog.
That’s a lie. The real reason, is that I just discovered something great. Or possibly disconcerting… no, definitely great. At least great at 3 a.m.. Ready? Check this out:
If you google for the words, gross noises, sambot.com is the fourth result down. Oh joy!
I sleep now.
Well, Xmas 2004 has come and gone. All in all, I’d say that it was a pretty successful holiday. The xmas death mix was well received… for the most part. Mostly, I think it’s recipients were frightened. Not really for themselves, but for me and my well-being. Which is nice… nice to know people are concerning themselves with my mental health (in retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have given one to my mom).
I gave some good gifts, and I received some good gifts. On the top of the list for gifts given would probably have to be the fire hydrant shaped cookie that I gave to my little sister’s puppy. I have totally and utterly fallen in love with this puppy… she’s the cutest little hellraiser. I am going to miss her (and my sister) immensely when they move to Georgia… but I won’t talk about that now, as the tears welling up in my eyes are making it tough to see what I’m typing.
As for gifts received… well I think that it’s a tie (no, not a necktie, you dolt). From his personal and well maintained collection, my pal Sean gave me a wonderfully functional Spyderco folding knife. It’s a really comfortable folder. Easy to open, close, and use. The other gift is a Crumpler Crisp Suit messenger style laptop bag… which I am field testing at this very moment. Hopefully soon I’ll post about it. It’s cool enough to deserve an exclusive post/review… what can I say, I’m a total gear junkie.
The best (and cheesiest) part of this past Xmas, was the quality time that I spent with my family. They are the best. No one makes me laugh like they do… sometimes at them, but mostly with them. I have so much fun when I hang out with them. They are good people… albeit insane. Pot calling the kettle black!
That’s all for now. The remaining quarter of my coffee has gone cold and I am in dire need of a refill. Before I go however, I will leave you with this unrelated yet superbly brilliant epiphany. This came to me earlier and my life has not been the same since: When I get a puppy of my very own, I am going to name her/him Iommi… after the not-yet-dead (but probably deceased by the time that I actually get around to getting a puppy) guitar legend from Black Sabbath. “Here Iommi! Fetch me that Gibson SG. Good girl! Where’s your Ozzy chew toy? That’s it. Yep… bite the head off! Shake it… make sure it’s dead! Good Iommi. Good puppy.”
If you were my friend, you would get one of these for xmas (now don’t you wish that you were nicer to me?):
xmas death, volume III is the semi-annual, suicide-inducing, totally rockin’ mix CD that I pass out to all my peeps during the holiday season. Click here for the liner notes (doh! I just realized that the most current version is on my G4 at work. I’ll post an update on Tuesday)… and click here for a high res version of the cover.
If, by some freak occurrence, you did not receive your copy of xmas death, volume III, and you feel that you have been robbed out of what is rightly yours, one of three things may be going on. 1) Your perception of the quality of our friendship is slightly askew (hahaha! Just kidding. I love everyone equally and thoroughly) 2) I haven’t gotten to you yet. 3) I’ve forgotten all about you. If any of the above are true, let me know… and I’ll do my best to rectify this dire situation immediately.
Happy holidays everyone! Blog on!
Oh… I’m sure that I’m going to have a few extras. If anyone is interested, you can send me your address and I’ll see if I can send one out to you.
Whoa. I’m totally stoked for her. Her soon-to-be husband is such a cool guy. My friend Jenn is such a cool gal. They’re gonna be such a cool married couple. Yeah marriage!
Now I want to get married. Someone marry me… quick… before I get bored with that idea and move on to something else. Like teaching monkeys to fight.
My friend Mike pointed me to a trailer for the up and coming Sin City film. Oh my god… I’m a huge Frank Miller and Sin City fan, and this trailer looks pretty nice (please hollywood, don’t screw this one up. I beg you…). Some of the shots from the movie look as though they have been lifted straight from the comics too.
I’m pretty excited for this. Remind me not to let my expectations get too high though. I don’t think that I could live through another DareDevil fiasco…
This 26 year old steelworker is in the process of fabricating a giant mechanical robot that a human will be able to operate with typical everyday movement:
“When completed, the idea is for the pilot to be able to strap himself into a central, padded compartment, and then control the mecha with the motions of his own body. When the pilot walks, the mecha walks. Raise an arm and open a hand, and the mecha does the same, with 46 possible movements planned.”
Holy crap. I’m the same age as this guy and I haven’t built a giant robot yet. What is my problem? I’m such a huge slacker!
This dude is constructing this feat of awesomeness in his own backward! For now, I’ll make myself feel better by using that as an excuse. He’s got a backyard. I don’t. I mean, if I had a backyard, I’d probably have built all sorts of cool stuff by now. Damn this apartment living lifestyle!
I did some good stuff this weekend. Yep… good stuff. I went to New York City with my totally tubular housemates to visit my totally tubular friend, Todd. Todd is rad. He’s like the big brother I never had (fists and all). When Todd and I get together, we instantly regress to a freshman-in-high-school-like relationship. It’s great. We tell each other how hot each other’s mom is, we punch each other in the arms (well, Todd mostly punches me), we sing punk rock lyrics, we play with each other’s toys (Macs, cell fones, guitars, cds…), etc…
On Saturday we saw Todd’s band, Dumo. They were pretty fun… good stage presence, good vocals, expensive beer ($3 for a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon… a CAN!? Well, I guess it is New York City). Then we were off to Times Square, where I took that exquisite camera fone photo of todd.
At Todd’s house in Brooklyn, he had no heat or hot water. You’d think that the Technical Project Manager for zingy.com (who gets paid more than god, I might add), would be able to afford heat and hot water. But like I said, it is New York City. So, in Todd’s arctic tundra, I slept on the floor… fully clothed, including my shoes and coat.
Sunday morning = the best omelet that I’ve ever had. It was Mexican.
I really can’t believe that I only took one photo during the entire weekend. If Todd were here right now, I’d tell him to email the photos and video that he took this weekend… or else I might have to post some of the photos and video that I have from years long since passed. (If this were some kind of futuristic video blog, there would be a flashback/dream sequence thingy now. Nope. Sorry. None for you.)
