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Last Updated : Sunday, 02 June, 2002 at 09:19 PM -0500
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| Daynotes On a Budget Hosted By... Last Updated : Sunday, 02 June, 2002 at 09:19 PM -0500 |
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Monday, May 27, 2002
As
I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, anyway, home at 1:30 am,
put the trees/bulbs in places other than the trunk after staggering the kids
into their rooms, collapsed, and awoke at 3 am to the sound of my wife putting
dishes away - I refused to believe that a thief had snuck in to steal our
collection of garage-sale silverware and mismatched plates, etc.
Discuss with her her issues, and got that straightened out, and crashed out again at 5 am, only to be awakened at 9:30 am by three volleys, what sounded like seven medium-caliber rifles. And it reminded me why we celebrate this day.
So, I got up, and hung out the flag. And the nice thing is that, between the light breeze, the beautiful weather, and the height of the flag pole, you can see our flag from the street behind us. And, more importantly, we are one of the few houses in the neighborhood with a flagpole. Which makes it even more important to get the flag out there.
Now all I really need to do is get my hands on a good nylon 3x5 foot flag. And then, I'm going to go looking for a Jolly Roger. Sick, I know, but I'm that sort of fellow.
So, after that, we went to work in the garden. We transplanted the plum tree and lilacs which we got from my folks (one deep purple, one pale purple, and one white - we might get a yellow lilac from them, and then we're going to go buy a couple of the stripped lilacs, too - next year, maybe).
After that, I found my string, which was necessary, because I had to lay out the garden...
First off, I had to make some garden stakes. Now, before the eight of you who are still members of the "I Love My Soldering Iron Above All Other Tools Society" jump my case, you can bugger off and do something inappropriate to a herd animal. After soldering 215 cable ends (the odd one was because I screwed one cable up and made it eight inches too long), I think I qualify for membership in the "Kill The Soldering Iron" federation, let me tell you.
So, I took the four-foot lath, cut it in half, cut those halves in half on a 45-degree angle, and there I had forty-four stakes out of eleven pieces of lath. I could have stopped at 22, but I forgot (besides, I have a few stakes out in the yard that I no longer need, as the roundup finally did it's work and killed the thistles - and everything in a 12-inch radius - fine by me).
So, why so many stakes?
Yup. From the right there, there's a row of six-foot sunflowers, a row of 12-foot sunflowers, and a row of delphiniums (I think). Then we have a walkway (that beat-down area). On the far side, there are six rows - three of beans, two of peas, and one half-and-half. The middle area has six rows of two different types of carrots. The close end here has two rows of corn, and two rows of lettuce. Across the front we have tomato plants, two blocks of spicy peppers, and two open sections. Yes, that means that the garden will be shaded from the south by a fence and two rows of sunflowers, from the east by a fairly dense tree, and from the west by another tree and two rows of corn. The picture above was taken about 3:30 pm, to give you some idea of the daylight we're going to have here.
And that's the garden from the north. Yes, that stupid little tree to the right there has a limited lifespan left. In fact, I think it's going to be yanked next weekend, I hope.
So that was our Monday. It's been a rough year since last Memorial Day, and life is much different. I wanted to do something life-affirming this year. Other than killing the damnedelions, of course.
Hope yours was similarly rewarding. Tomorrow, we go back to work. Argh.
Tuesday, May 28, 2002
Bone-Head Update
Uh, yes. That would be me. Hey, I'm allowed, it's a new (to me)
house...
Last night after posting the above, I went outside and pulled down the flag. Properly folded, of course, and then took the flag in. However... And you just know when it starts like that it's going to leave some sort of permanent mark on someone or something...
Back to "however". I wiggled the flagpole, and noted (for the record), that the post didn't sink into the rock, but sat on it, instead. So, I thought, I wonder if this post sits on another post...
So I leaned down, and did "the squat". Did you know that a post that's about 20 feet tall and made of 1/4" thick steel pipe that's about two inches across weighs a LOT? Well, I didn't. That's why the pole bounced off the roof, the gutter, and scraped onto the hood of the car before it landed on the ground. No permanent damage anywhere, other than to my ego, of course.
Oh well. I got it put back up again. And yes, I feel like an idiot.
Back At It
Yes, back to the home of the brain cramp, after one of us lost a tooth,
one of us broke a watch, one of us had a rough night, and so did the
other person sharing that bedroom. Well, actually, everyone in the
house did.
I think I did the medium-rare sunburn this weekend. Nothing hurts, nothing blistering or otherwise in serious, screaming pain, just an unpleasant creepy-crawly feeling on my skin. Yes, I bathed. Wise-guy.
My least-fun part of the weekend? Young lady Rhiannon had over to play managed to earn herself a sliver in the finger whilst playing in the tower. If it were my kids, I'd have dug it out. As it was a delicate young lady (she brought over her makeup bag and wanted to play "makeovers" on a beautiful day like yesterday), I tried, really, really hard, not to pain her too much. Fortunately, just as I was about to deploy the Xacto knife to dig that puppy out (too shallow for a needle to be of much use), her mother arrived to pick her up.
And I put on the list 2 treated 2x4s for the next time we visit Home Depot. Let's see. That's one roll rabbit fence, 2 treated 8'2x2s, 2 treated 8' 1x2s, 2 treated 2x4s, and about a gallon of weed-be-gone (or the Miracle-Grow equivalent). And perhaps a damnedelion puller. Argh.
Anyway, I'll replace the rails on the tower half-walls first, then wait for next year for the serious reconstruction. Or Replacement. We'll see.
I Hate It When He Does That
Once again, Mr. Seto has done his level best to unlevel my head. And
his level best is usually more than good enough.
He poses a long list of ethical dilemmas. At the end is "The recording and film industries are trying to pass onerous laws that will help them keep their monopolies and thus, their profits. By purchasing their CDs and going to their movies, you are helping them further their aims. What do you do?"
Aye. There's the rub.
However, when I look at this issue, I unfortunately see a lot of shades of gray.
On the one hand, there is the phrase "economies of scale" which has driven merger-and-acquisition-mania to heights which have allowed stock analysts to lie down with investment bankers and recommend some really, REALLY bad stock deals - solely on the basis of "what will it do for me/my firm/my stock options?"
So, short version, "MERGER/BIG COMPANY=BAD".
On another tentacle, there's the profitability factor. If you've got eighteen companies making the same part, and you buy and consolidate six of them, you can eliminate five HR directors, five IS directors, five CEOs, etc., etc., etc. While the remainder will be larger, there's the potential benefit for the stockholders in that they have the dreaded "economy of scale".
On still another tentacle, there's the "media production industries" - I'll lump them all together. Books, audio (in various forms), video (also in various forms), and the like. While I do not make my living in such a field, it's no secret that I'd like to. So to that extent, I'd like to see them around and remaining somewhat profitable. Besides, they are entertaining.
The other tentacle says that some of these costs are completely out of line with the real world. New music/albums coming out regularly cost more than the new music of last year or the year before. Sure, some artists are getting richer. Some aren't. That's the way it is - some "go commercial" while others "stay true to their art."
But there's another tentacle in the woodwork. One that says "you know, $90 to go see the Eagles is beyond exorbitant - it's just not right." Certainly, they're well beyond the age which they "need" to tour, but there's a problem with all of this - there's a hell of a lot of money floating around. And when that happens, people get greedy.
Still another tentacle, there's the phrase "starving artist." Few "artists" I know of have need to starve, unless it's for dramatic/artistic reasons.
With all the money floating around, though, why is it that only a very few can survive on their work, and if they do, they write prodigious amounts, constantly, and are continually revising and updating existing works - all for peanuts. Another tentacle heard from.
There's also the rights the consumer has regarding those digital, and non-digital works that they've purchased. Back in "the old days" I could tape my albums (yes, kiddies, I said ALBUMS - big vinyl things - it's what we used vinyl for before Brittney and Christina et. al. started using it for clothing), and play them in my car. It was a nudge-nudge-wink-wink copyright infringement, as I could buy the cassette version of said "album" and play that - until it broke. Then, if I HAD to keep that music in my collection, go buy another one. Another tentacle (and I think that finishes up the first octopus - hand me another, would ya?).
Of course, we all know that CDs arrived, and after that, computers, and some years after that, the commercially available CD-Recorder and the internet made history of a whole bunch of laws. Well, tried to.
And there's yet another problem. Just because you have the ability to do so, does that mean you have the Right? Sure, I enjoy copying my CDs onto a computer so I can listen to the music when I can't find the danged CD. After all, I've paid for the computer, hard drive, CD, etc., why can't I use them any way I want?
Which brings us to the crux of the issue.
Technology is PROACTIVE. It's out there, cutting-edge, leading the way, sort of like the Tigger of the world. Legality, on the other hand, is the Piglet side of things. "Are you sure we should go in there?"
Most of the time, technology answers the question that hasn't been asked (widely) yet. Most of the time, the law ends up bringing up the tail end of the parade, looking at the carnage, and asking "what could we do to prevent this from happening NEXT time?"
Which brings us right back to the bench next to Mr. Seto's query. What do you do?
I believe it should be legal for me to purchase a movie or other video entertainment, and then make that entertainment available to those who live with me, or with limited inconvenience, to those whom I wish to show it to privately, regardless of input or output device (be it a DVD player or computer). This is the "it's mine/can I borrow it" section.
I believe it should be legal for me to purchase a music or spoken-word CD and perform the same function.
I believe that it is REASONABLE for the producers of said content to require that I provide some form of insurance against me mass-copying and selling for my own personal gain someone else's work - however, I believe that said method of insurance not be an impediment to me re-installing said work if the first one fails (hard drive crash, etc), and said work be non-intrusive.
How do we get around this?
Whatever software/hardware that's produced to support the ideas above has to be platform independent. Perhaps it's in a "media server" which is sold for $19.99, connects to any home network, and offers say half a terabyte of disk storage for movies, etc., plus some sort of verification that's storable/replaceable, etc.
Anyway - ethically, I've got problems. I don't know that there is a viable solution.
Movie Night
The Dominik Hovel gala premiere of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets tonight.
We paid a whopping $19.99 back in January for the special deluxe wide-screen edition.
I hear tell (and see ads) that the special edition is running something like $29.99.
Whoo and hoo. Now I'm watching the movie. TTFN...
Wednesday, May 29, 2002
Tweedle-Dum And Tweedle-Dumber
I knew there was a reason for all of this...
Whenever I work on large or complex documents or projects or files, I tend to do things like save the document with a different file name - typically date-related. Saved my bacon more times than I can remember.
Yesterday, however, I was working on a project at work, and started having a problem with a file getting just too dog-gone big or something. I tried to save it under a new name (*_20020528b.*), and it broke the application. Went back, and going back through the end of last week this creeping corruption affected my file. Argh.
My Bad
Before the MPAA and everyone else comes a-screaming at me, that would
have been Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's stones, last night. We do not
have a copy of the movie that's supposed to be released this Christmas.
Rhiannon's on chapter 7 in that book, though...
Oh well. I used to think the purpose of life was to get answers. I'm beginning to think it's actually to learn to ask smarter questions...
Attack of the Damnedelions
Yes, they're still here. And trying very hard to kill my lawn.
Mr. Kershner has suggested Scots #2. I've tried various concentrations of Weed-B-Gon. Now, I'm going to try a combination of feeding the lawn with the stuff I've got and extracting the bastards individually. Wherever I pull one out, I'm dropping in grass seed and a bit of fertilizer. Then I'll water (or wait for Mother Nature to do the job).
The problem is that I would estimate that about 60% of my yard has damnedelions in it. That's 60% where you take a square foot and there's at least three plants in it. There's about 20% which is what I'd call more damnedelion than grass (fifteen or more damnedelion heads per square foot), and a nice section right along the busy street behind me which is literally weeds. Nothing but. I'm not going to seed that this year, because the city uses salt and sand on the street - that's not good for the grass. But maybe some day I'll seed it.
My sister suggested some zoysia grass, which apparently would do well in southern Iowa, but not so good here in the colder climes. I've got two bags of grass seed - one's kentucky bluegrass and the other's a shady/hardy high-traffic mix. I'm figuring that once I get rid of the damnedelions and get some real grass growing well, I can relax a little bit, instead of treating on Friday, mowing on Monday, and fretting the rest of the week. I'd much prefer to treat in May and September, mow regularly, and watch it grow the rest of the time.
Oh well.
Cyanide Found, Nuts Also
Well, it was a while ago that I was a bit upset about the loss of that
semi-truck full of cyanide. The, of course, they said it had been
found. Yesterday, on NPR, I heard "well, most of the cyanide is
missing, some of it's been found."
Having good reason to distrust the accuracy of NPR (on a number of occasions I've caught them in outright errors), I thought I'd wait and see what came of it.
Of course, this news today is pretty good. There are still six missing drums, but that's better than nothing.
And "nothing" is about what the good Alice Gudgel allegedly seems to have, in my opinion (can't be too careful with the state of libel law being what it is these days) between her ears. As the article will disappear shortly (2-3 weeks after this date, usually), allow me to sum up. Mrs. Gudgel was convicted of holding down a young man and praying on him. Not preying, but praying. She felt he was in need of conversion to her way of thinking. Gee. We could invoke the Hitler rule here ("Rule 927-41k - anyone invoking Adolf Hitler in a newsgroup thread immediately kills said thread." Quoth Master Beland, whom I believe), and say "you know, Hitler thought the same way" but that would be too easy.
So, on the one hand, what can it hurt? On the other, if you've got to hold him down, the odds of it being effective are ... well, let's just use the words non-existent, OK? So, Mrs. Gudgel, enjoy the community service time. Maybe the judge will sentence you to attend four heavy metal concerts or something.
Speaking of non-existent mental activity, that's apparently what happened to the parents of this young lady from Clinton, Iowa (again, in my opinion, allegedly, I think), as she wrote $2000 worth of bad checks.
One thing about bouncing a check in Iowa - it's considered a form of theft, and you get your name in the papers and all sorts of other fun stuff. They're also pretty good at slicing your checking account privileges off at the ankles should you really, REALLY screw up. So she's due for a long haul.
As am I. Miles to go...
Tonight, at dinner, Ann was quizzing the kids.
"Do you think there were cars when your daddy was a kid?" Suspiciously long pause. "Yeah." "Do you think there were televisions when your daddy was a kid?" Suspiciously longer pause. "Yeah." Do you think there were computers when your daddy was a kid?" No pause at all. "No!"
So I launched into the digression of mainframe computers filling entire large rooms, and the story of Admiral Hopper. Obviously, with a five year old with a bug phobia, I had to handle the issue a little differently.
"Well, they were having problems with the computer one day, and she looked through all the parts, and she found an insect in one of the parts."
"What happened?" asked Jack, somewhat fearful.
"Well, the bug was just walking around, and then he touched two things that had electricity in them, and he said 'ZZZZT. Ack! I'm DEAD!'"
The poor kid nearly blew milk out his nose, and he giggled. I don't know if that's sick, sad, or properly educational.
Of course, then She Who Must Be Obeyed asked about Viruses. I regaled them all with the story of RTM and the very first internet worm.
Some times I really think I need to get out more.
And The Big News
Almost forgot.
Rhiannon's school started last September with the goal of collecting one million pennies. One million pennies is ten thousand dollars. Or, it works out to about fourteen bucks a kid.
They were storing them in milk jugs, $50 per jug, and shipping them off to a local bank (which agreed to store and count them).
After the first week of school, when September 11th occurred, the kids immediately hit upon the idea of sending the money to Catholic Charities in New York City. Some anonymous donor agreed to match the donation, so Catholic Charities in New York will be receiving a check for $20,000 because of these kids, who collected their millionth penny today.
And the local news crew was out filming them today, and Rhiannon thinks she might actually appear on camera tonight. I somehow doubt it - they usually cut that sort of thing when the news runs late because of stupid stuff like Basketball.
Oh well. A million pennies makes, I'm told, a really, REALLY big pile... They had to check with the architect at school, who told them not to put the pennies on the gym floor - they were too heavy and might damage it. I can believe it.
Thursday, May 30, 2002
Check Yer Aliases...
Yup. That's right. And not at the door, neither.
I've got a friend whom I exchange occasional e-mails with. Since he's actually one of the Illuminati, plotting to take over the world as part of the Tri-Lateral Commission, I can't use his real name here. I'll disguise it, and since his name is Joe, we'll call him Joe (because everyone knows that the TLC hides their secrets in public anyway).
Joe's e-mail address comes in to my mailbox as "Joe's E-mail At home". His address, Joe@TheFunkyChicken.Org (and there's a poor bastard who never heard of me who's going to collect Spam by the bucketload, poor boy), is in my outlook address book. Joe's first name is Joe's E-mail At. His last name comes in as "home".
And therein lies the difficulty. For I have an address in my address book called "Home" which I use to archive semi-permanent stuff - if I'm sending from one account or another, I just send it to "Home" (please note the capital H - yes, I've worked with UNIX, I know all about case sensitivity), and I'll have a permanent copy.
Occasionally, I'll exercise some frustrations by reporting spammers to their abuse accounts, and trace the addresses through the headers, etc.
Such was the case the other day, when I complained to ATT.Net about one Frank123456789 or some such f***wit who was telling me how to get rich by selling viagra on-line (why is it that people I've never met keep insisting they know what's best for me and that I need a larger penis? I wouldn't shake hands with these people, yet they want to enumerate my shortcomings, literally).
So, poor Joe gets a message. Why?
Well, when I got mad and used my hotmail account from home, I wanted to make sure I kept a copy, so I addressed the BCC field to "home". Note the lower-case "h". Poor Joe thought I was picking on him (not a smart thing to do to a member of the TLC, as they also control the aliens who orbit the planet, doing mind-picks and alien sexual experimentation - which might be why I keep getting all those ads for penis enlargement, come to think of it - but I digress).
Instead of sending it to the proper "Home" address (only one word), it went to Joe's home. Oy. I know most programs were written by humans (I still believe Windows was written by infinity-minus-one monkeys eating a lot of bananas... Boy, what a mess that would have been), but I hate it when one thinks it's smarter than me.
I refuse to believe it's MY fault for screwing it up. After all, I knew what I meant. What? Hey, if my wife can use that argument, why can't I? Oh, yes, that's right. I lack a uterus. And I've apparently got a small penis, too. Life just ain't fair sometimes, you know?
Anyway, sorry, Joe (or Bubba, or whomever you really and truly are) - I had no intention of inflicting upon you my Spam-busting ways... And hopefully the rest of you will learn from my drivel. Lord knows I'd hate to waste the effort. Then again, those who really want to know what it feels like when you do poke yourself in the eye with a sharp stick can ... well, you know.
Busy Busy Busy
Then again, who isn't?
Up at 5:30 - out the door by 7 with the wife and kids. Stopped at daycare to stare at the helicopter moving the glass domes back onto the roof of Burnsville Center (since we no longer pass it three or four times a day, we don't notice these things). Got everyone to their delivery point. Long day of work, reworking something I still don't understand (it's like the old joke - "do you know where you're going?" "No, but we're sure making good time."). Home by way of Jack, The Rockler woodworking store (they were remodeling. That store is just too cool, and way too close to home), Ann's drop-off point, Rhiannon's School, and then dinner. Back out for a potato fork, Scot's Turf Builder Plus 2 (which we didn't find, but we did find Scot's Turf Builder Summer Care, at $36 a bag at Walmart - should treat 15,000 square feet, which is about twice my yard - good thing, I think I'll need at least two treatments - so we didn't buy it anyway, we'll see if we can find the real stuff this weekend, THEN borrow my buddy's official Scot's professional broadcast spreader to do the job), birthday presents for the glut of parties this weekend (Rhiannon has one Saturday, one Sunday. We have one as a family Sunday for the children of some friends - two and three, I think the kids will be). Picked up some milk, too, then got a card and a gift certificate for Jack's teacher who has her last day tomorrow (she takes summers off, and she's been the best thing for Jack - Rhiannon too. We'll miss her terribly next year). Then a rush back home for our new, free, upright freezer - can't beat that with a fork.
Now I'm tired (can't imagine why) and I'm going to bed. We'll see what tomorrow brings... G'nite.
Friday, May 31, 2002
Busy, Part II
Apparently, my wife thinks I'm the man of steel in the shopping department.
After last night's shenanigans, today was supposed to be the "easy" day - come home, relax after a "long" short week, and prepare for a busy weekend.
Ha.
It started as I left work. James Earl Jones, if you're reading this, you might want to do what you can to pull back your voice from Verizon's Wireless announcement. I was SCREAMING at my new "try-mode" cell phone tonight. Fifteen minutes before I got a call through. Admittedly, this was the first time I'd ever had it that bad, but boy, what a night to screw with the system.
So, I picked up Jack. Today was his teacher's last day with him. Patti was The Teacher we wanted for Jack. She was a real pleasure to work with. Some teachers will look at a kid and decide that he, or she, just is too much trouble. Not Patti. She took Jack, and we've seen the improvements in him.
Patti's one of those special people. She got to spend 7-8 hours a day with both of my children for over a year with each - and both of them are better people for it. I'm jealous of her time with them, but I cannot thank her enough for what she did to make them the people they are.
Anyway, back to this evening. Picked up Jack, then Ann, then Rhiannon. Went to Menards, and found a damnedelion puller. It's about 60% of what I need - the next step is to show it to my friend who does such things, and see if he can weld on two garden trowels to make the thing reach about 6" under the surface. It won't pull up all the weed, but most of it. So we'll see if that can be done. Also picked up a new grate for the grill (the old one was just about shot in three or four places), and a piece of ductwork.
"Why ducting?" you ask. Well, it seems that most of the persons of my immediate acquaintance no longer consume coffee at a high enough level to make those extra-valuable coffee cans available to me. So I'm going to use a piece of ductwork instead.
We then ran for a quick bite to eat, then to Target for the torture the father portion of the expedition - the purchase of the eight-year-old's swimsuit for the summer. Her first new suits in almost three years, as we'd picked up a hand-me-down last year.
She picked up a two-piece and a one-piece, so I'll keep a moderately high blood pressure this summer. We then hit the grocery store and came home.
And now I'm sitting here chuckling. Top Gun is on and my favorite line just came up. During the final dogfight, Merlin says to Maverick "You're gonna do WHAT?" I love that movie. Though Tim Robbins is just too damned tall to fit into the rear seat on an F-14. Or so I'm told... But why the heck Top Gun is running on the Romance channel, I'll never know. I usually reload the snack tray when Cruise and Kelly McGillis go all soft-focus...
Papal Correction
Seems both Ann and I had it just a bit off when we went off on the Pope last
week.
The nutball decrying the Crucifixion issue was the director of the magazine Il Cinematografo, which is, according to this article, a Catholic Film Review. Oy.
At least I know the Pope hasn't wigged out on this issue (at least, let's hope not yet).
And I owe a thanks to reader Henry "X" who supplied the link for the correction.
Saturday, June 1, 2002
Hmm. If I recall correctly, twenty years ago this date I was celebrating the momentous occasion of graduation from High School. Of course, today the write-up for the 20th reunion book was due - so I did it at the last minute.
I can't help feeling somewhat of a failure at times like that. I've got classmates who, I know, have probably gone and done wonderful, fantastic, incredible things. Me, not so much. So it goes.
We had Tee Ball this morning, which has caused something within me to snap - probably due to sunburn. I was the third-base coach today, which consisted of me yelling "over here, OVER HERE!" a whole heck of a lot.
Then we hit Burger King for the semi-annual "oh, yeah, this is why we don't do that too often" visit - I love whoppers, but my God, between the caloric intake, and the general after-meal queasiness, I'm just not sure it's a good thing. The positive side of the equation, though, is that I avoided both the chicken tenders AND the onion rings, which means I won't be a toxic cess-pit tomorrow as we visit with friends at a birthday party.
Then, we came home by way of the meat store, and I mowed the back lawn and street strip. Truth be told, I also did my good deed for the day and got the neighbor's strip along the street as well, so they're done. And I'm medium well on the forearms, and well done on the arms.
I did the back yard, in smaller hunks this time, and then the time came for
me to assemble the Charcoal Starter. Yes, there was one available at
Menards for $7, but I'm cheap.
And yes, that's my grill and the lighter, after the job, as it were.
I bought a piece of 8" ducting, 24" long, and cut that in half. I sealed the seam, and riveted it closed, then I folded the top 1/4" of the edge over to make sure no one would slice an arm off. Finally, I punched two small holes in the sides and put in a coat hanger in the top portion. It was my charcoal starter. Filled it about halfway up, soaked the charcoal, lit it (from the bottom, and once in the top right in the middle), and ten minutes later it was ready to go. Pulled it off the charcoal, pushed the coals to one side of the grill, tossed the two pork rib loins on, the two butterfly chicken breasts, a couple of hot dogs, and I'm finally getting the hang of this stuff. It was ALL edible, and very good, according to those who consumed it.
Then we did smores, and crashed out - which is why this didn't get posted.
Sunday, June 2, 2002
Well, I got up, mowed the front yard, put down the the soaker hoses, got about fifteen minutes of watering in before I realized that A), I'm in an even-numbered house, and it's an even day, so I can water, but B) it was after noon, and there's a noon-to-five pm watering ban every day.
So I got the water turned off, took a shower, dropped Rhiannon at a birthday party, went to a birthday party for the children of some friends of ours, picked Rhiannon up, came back home, and vegged.
So, some fun stuff...
New Drugs!
St. Mom's Wort : Plant extract that treats mom's depression by
rendering preschoolers unconscious for up to six hours.
So do five shots of vodka.
Empty Nestrogen : Highly effective suppository that eliminates
melancholy by enhancing the memory of how awful they were as
teenagers and how you couldn't wait til they moved out.
How about something that would speed the process? No, probably not,
then.
Peptobimbo : Liquid silicone for single women. Two full cups
swallowed before an evening out increases breast size, decreases
intelligence, and improves flirting.
Ah, yes. And one of the unintended side effects is lightening of the
hair color.
Dumerol : When taken with Peptobimbo, can cause dangerously
low I.Q. causing enjoyment of country western music.
Right. Or worse yet, (c)rap.
Flipitor : Increases life expectancy of commuters by controlling
road rage and the urge to flip off other drivers.
Clearly in very short supply.
Antiboyotics : When administered to teenage girls, is highly
effective in improving grades, freeing up phone lines, and reducing
money spent on make-up.
I NEED some of that stuff RIGHT NOW.
Menicillin : Potent antiboyotic for older women. Increases
resistance to such lines as, "You make me want to be a better person
... can we get naked now?"
Oy. The sad thing is that I had better lines than that when I was about
twelve. And I was never particularly good with women...
Buyagra : Injectable stimulant taken prior to shopping.
Increases potency and duration of spending spree.
I need the anti-buyagra, whatever that is...
Extra Strength Buy-one-all : When combined with Buyagra, can
cause an indiscriminant buying frenzy so severe the victim may even
come home with a Donnie Osmond CD or a book by Dr. Laura.
That's just ... EEeeewww.
Jack Asspirin : Relieves the headache caused by a man who
can't remember your birthday, anniversary or phone number.
Now THAT I could use.
Anti-talksident : A spray carried in a purse or wallet to be
used on anyone too eager to share their life stories with total
strangers.
Heh. I wonder if it works on kids.
Sexcedrin : Bedroom aerosol spray for men. More effective than
Excedrin in treating the, "Not now, dear, I have a headache,"
syndrome.
I had a friend's father tell us that he went to bed every night for eighteen
years with two aspirin. Another friend said he told his wife "that's
Ok, you won't need your head." Oy. No wonder he got divorced.
Ragamet : When administered to a husband, provides the same
irritation as ragging on him all weekend, saving the wife the time
and trouble of doing it herself.
I'm suspecting it's odorless, tasteless, and you can't detect it by normal
means.
Men-Gay : A rub-in ointment that enables single women to
identify who to cross off the dating pool.
Or add, depending on your preferences. Ugh.
And The Fun Begins
The boss's boss will be in mid-week this week. The same feller who was aiming to lay me off back in January, and I haven't seen since.
I figure I'm going to ignore the issue and just do my job. If he wants to mention it, he will. Meanwhile, I've got work to do.
And this week also finishes up second grade for Rhiannon, as well as the last full week for Jack at the old daycare. Phew. Busy, momentous week.
And I didn't get a damned thing done in Rhiannon's loft, again, this weekend. Oh well.
See you next week.
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P. Dominik. All rights reserved. No reproduction without express
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