Four Less Teeth

This morning, at 9:15 a.m., I had all four of my wisdom teeth yanked unwillingly from my skull. Surprisingly enough, the entire endeavor was mostly uneventful. I was knocked out for the procedure. I remember the nurse jabbing the intravenous into a vein… she mentioned that I have “easy veins.” I asked what makes them so easy. She said that they are popping out and not moving around. I think that I tried to say something clever like, “Well, I told them to behave…” but, I probably just started to drool and trailed off into unconsciousness. The next thing that I remember is sitting on my sister’s couch and defending myself from some hardcore puppy lovin’ (my sister’s puppy is the cutest thing in the world, but she loves with her teeth).

Like I said, I don’t remember much. According to the reports (a.k.a. what my sister tells me), I was insistent on thanking every one of the staff members at the oral surgery place as we left. Apparently, it was imperative that I thank everyone in the waiting room too. Ah drugs… is there anything they can’t do?

Speaking about drugs, I just popped the first of about ten Percocets that they were nice enough to prescribe for me. We’ll see how that goes. If it goes well, I’ll probably be inspired to post a bit later… and I know you are looking forward to that.

Oh… I almost forgot. They let me keep my teeth! The gross thing is that they didn’t even clean them off. It’s like they went straight from my bloody jaw into a little plastic baggy. Doesn’t that seem odd? Wouldn’t this be considered biohazard? Oh well. I’m just stoked that they let me keep them. I can’t wait to turn them into a necklace… and one day give it to my true love. Am I smooth or what?

The Percs are kicking in. Which means that it’s definitely time for me to go.

Suicide Rabbit Needs Pie For Her Goat Plug

Finder windows should have tabbed browsing just like Safari.

Wouldn’t that rock? Doesn’t that make so much sense? Someone code that up. I’ll buy you a donut.

Exercise 1: Imagine that you aren’t a Mac/Tech geek. Now reread the first sentence of this post (I’ll paste it below, you lazy bastard).

Finder windows should have tabbed browsing just like Safari.

Now doesn’t that sentence seem like some sort of secret agent code? Like, “The clock strikes toast at the mall of your mind” or “Suicide rabbit needs pie for her goat plug” or… nevermind.

Anyway, that’s all. Oh, right… someone code me up a finder replacement that adds tabs to finder windows. The reward stands at one donut (of your choice) for successful implementation of tabbed browsing in finder windows. Good luck and godspeed.

UPDATE: Andy Budd knows what I’m talking about. That image came from his site too.

Downward Spiraling Torrent of Poo

Yesterday, I watched most of Metallica’s documentary Some Kind of Monster. It was… um, different than I had expected.

(begin rambling digression)

I can still remember hearing Metallica for the first time. Let me see if I can paint an accurate mental picture of my life 16 years ago… just to set the mood: It was circa 1989. I was 11 or 12 years old (oh my god… I’m an old man). I never left the house without my skateboard (a Per Welinder street model, as I recall). I was in the process of growing a nice rat tail… you know, a long tuft of hair that descended from the back of my head. Yep, I was one stylish pre-adolescent (come to think of it, that’s probably why I am bald now… the Gods of Good Hair are punishing me for having such bad hair). As far as music went, I was listening to whatever butt-rock MTV threw in my direction; Bon Jovi, Poison, Motley Crap… Until one glorious day, when my good friend, Brendan Walsh (no, not Brandon Walsh) took me into his basement and played an audio cassette that forever changed my life. It was Metallica’s last great album, …And Justice for All.

…And Justice for All was like nothing I had ever heard before. It was dark. It was aggressive. It was fast. It was precise. The distortion was overpowering, yet somehow smooth and accurate. The percussion was tight and it never seemed to fit within the confines of standard 4/4 rock drumming. The vocals… those magical James Hetfield vocals… growled with a subtle tonality that lead the uncompromising music into a realm of epic intensity. And the signature rasp at the end of each lyrical progression… no one has been able to do that like James did.

As I had mentioned though, …And Justice for All was Metallica’s last great album. With the release of their next album, the Black album, Metallica began a downward spiraling torrent of poo that has yet to conclude. But that’s not really what this post is about. I’m sure you can google “Metallica” and “poo torrent” and come up with a bizillion rant pages about how Metallica sold out. What this post is [supposed to be] about, is the Metallica documentary.

(end rambling digression)

As I watched Some Kind of Monster, I found these themes to be prevalent throughout the film: frustration, anger, regret, uncoolness, receding hairline, feelings, etc… However, the following is a list of what I wanted from the film: footage from the 80’s (when Metallica still rocked), more hair, drunken rowdiness, tight black jeans, explosions, etc… Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed.

For me however, the highlight of the documentary was the Dave Mustaine part. Dave was kicked out of the band early on. I think it was a drinking problem, or maybe he was just a jerk… tough to imagine Mustaine as a jerk… I know. But, bear with me. Dave and Lars (Metallica drummer) sit down and have a little heart-to-heart. It was simply great to hear these two rock legends sit down and politely whine to each other. It was almost like a “who’s more washed-up” competition. It was great.

And now, my final comment:

I may have thought that I wanted to see Metallica in a group therapy session… but in actuality, I just wanted them to be cool again.

the end.

Epiphany

Life is too uncomfortable as is, to have to tuck in my shirt. From now on, the shirt stays untucked. Yee-haw!

Thank you for your time.

Saving the Day… Again

My pal from the far off desert lands of Arizona sent me a surprise package. It arrived yesterday, it was full of little Pez creatures, and it totally made my day. The following is the return email that I sent to her… with a blow-by-blow account of the pez/alien encounter:

You’ll never guess what happened today… so don’t even try. Instead, let me tell you: a mysterious package landed at my back doorstep. A mysterious package postmarked with a mysterious zip code. The zip code started with an 8… “What the…? Do they even go up that high?” Upon further inspection, I realized that the package hailed from the land of AZ. Clearly, this was an alien package. And, it was probably full of alien radiation. And the alien radiation was probably going to mutate me into some sort of super-being. So, without hesitation, I tore into the package, thrust my face into the newly formed opening, and inhaled deeply. Nothing. No mutation what-so-ever. “What a rip-off!” I exclaimed. While my face was still firmly inserted in the alien packaging, I noticed a small group… a humble assemblage… a wee congregation… of tiny alien creatures.

They had no visible appendages, and seemed to be comprised entirely of insect components atop brightly colored plastic boxes. I recognized them immediately as a threat. In my quick thinking/over-reacting, I snapped their necks… one by one… until they were a threat no more.

“Phew! That was a close call. Earth is safe once again… thanks to me. I deserve cake!” What I noticed however… after I killed them, that is… is that their innards are full of tiny, rectangular fuel cells. What powers these alien creatures, is very similar to what we earthlings call, “candy.” Bonus! I get to save the day and eat candy. Things are really looking up for mankind…

So Far, So Goth

BoingBoing, the giver of everything worthwhile on the internet, has pointed us to an amazing manufacturer of sculptures/action figures of characters from classic (some surrealist) paintings. BoingBoing talks primarily about Hieronymus Bosch… one of my favs (too bad we only talked about him for about 6 seconds in Art Survey I). Bosch’s depiction of evil and demons, is like no other. The traditional demon appearance; red, horns, tail, etc…, is replaced by demons exhibiting a cleverly crafted blend of human, insect, and animal features. The torturers and the tortured souls in Bosch’s Garden of Delights (the right panel of the triptych) are grotesque and beautiful. So good! So goth!

Back to the point: Some of Hieronymus Bosch’s most recognized characters are now action figures! You know you’ve always wanted to act out ghoulish scenes of morbid and surreal torture in your own living room! Now you can! Well, you could probably be morbid and surreal in your living room without the help of Hieronymus Bosch action figures… but that’s not the point. The point is that now you can bring to life the horrors of Bosch’s own personal hell.

Isn’t that exciting? Yes, it is.

Also worth noting are the Dali, Pieter Breughel, and Escher sections. But where’s the Francisco de Goya? An obvious oversight. I would love a Saturn Devouring His Son action figure playset. I would devour my own children to get one. Currently, I don’t have any children… and there’s probably a good reason for that.

It took them a while to find her thumb

The press operator just lost her thumb in the printing press.

There is blood everywhere.

It took them a while to find it.

I called 911.

My boss picked up the thumb and put it in a bag on ice.

The press operator went into shock.

The paramedics gave her morphine and took her away in an ambulance.

My boss drew an X where he found the thumb.

I took photos.

Just a Heads Up

Hey peeps… Just a heads up: sambot.com might look funky over the next few days. Version 2.0 is right around the corner. So, I’ll be doing some live beta testing. Blog on!

Discarded Flesh Sack

I survived my first teaching experience. The students didn’t skin me alive and hang my discarded flesh sack on the doorknob of Mac Lab 1… as I thought they might. You know… just to send a message to the other n00b instructors. They’ve got to make an example out of one of us… or so I’ve read.

Anyway, I think it went well. We just went over the syllabus and did some boring stuff like that. It was still really fun… and I think/hope that once my students/minions really get into it, they will have some fun too. Oh… and learn stuff. Right. Learning. That’s important… or so I have read.

I did however, tell them that I’m an avid listener and huge fan of Swedish Black Metal. I wonder if that was a good idea?

Hot For Teacher

I am about to leave to teach for the first time. Holy crap. I’m a ball of nerves. It’s guaranteed to go well though… I’m wearing my lucky glow-in-the-dark skull boxers. What could possibly go wrong?

I’ll post later with the gory details… but in the mean time, you can check out Syllabus Version 1.0.