Every highway that I go down seems to be longer than the last one I knew about

Got a minute? Good! Have a seat and I'll share a few random thoughts and observations I had while I was on my trip:

• I am amazed by the number of drivers that obey the speed limit.
• This is either the cheapest or most expensive hotel room I've ever had. I'm not sure which.
• I don't know how anyone can afford to drive an SUV. That said, anybody who wants to gain my undying affection can buy me a Toyota Highlander and they will have it.
• Pretty much the only thing I saw while driving across southern Idaho was volcanic rock, sagebrush and potatoes, thus lending support to Maddox's claim.
• Even if it is your name, you should try to come up with a better company slogan than "R. C. Worst Co. - Expect the Best from Worst."
• Does anyone stop and read historical markers along highways? Didn't think so.
• Blow up doll + Rope + Road sign = Hilarious!
• Sandpoint, ID was very disappointing this time through.*
• It is extremely difficult to convert kilometers to miles in your head. Luckily, I had a built in conversion table. (This was probably the first time I've ever paid attention to the little numbers on the speedometer.)
• For a country that uses the metric system, there are sure a lot of places in British Columbia that are named using the English system (e.g., 16 mile lake, 70 mile roadhouse, etc.).
• British Columbia has a lot of hitchhikers on its highways, but all of them are dudes. That's probably because any attractive female hitchhikers get picked up immediately.
• Signs on public restrooms are a bit more graphic in British Columbia than they are in Las Vegas. This seriously cracked me up (enough that I walked several hundred yards to the vehicle and back, just so I could take the picture):

• Enough bugs on a windshield can look like a deer on the side of the road.
• Enough rain can wash all the bugs off a windshield without the driver having to do a single thing.
• I don't get to drive down roads like this often enough:
  
• August 11 is too early to be driving through snow!
• Seriously, what are Canadian geese doing in Canada?
• Ryan Adams' new album Easy Tiger isn't as bad as I initially thought.
• It must be some kind of rule that if you're Mennonite you have to drive a navy blue colored vehicle.
• It's easy to win a cheesy fingers contest when you've got the whole bag of Cheetos to yourself.
• The time to start wondering whether your rental vehicle has all the components necessary to change a tire is not right after you've blown a tire on a remote, unmaintained Forest Service road, in bear country, at dusk.**
• The most optimal place for a road closed sign is NOT 85 km down a road that is only 87 km long. Especially when that road is a remote, unmaintained Forest Service road in bear country.
• Vancouver is my new favorite city, but it's not easy to navigate solo. (I'm sure the fact that I missed my exit had absolutely nothing to do with the blonde woman driving next to me in a sporty little red car.)
• A bag of Riesen's candies should last longer than twenty minutes, but doesn't.
• Canadian customs officials are all nice.*** United States customs officials are assholes.
• I would marry Aimee Mann for her voice.
• After going nine days without a shower, you still feel clean as a whistle after only going three.
• Stinging nettle really does sting!
• There is absolutely no reason for any public restroom to still be using bar soap, and even less reason for there to be pubic hair stuck to a bar of soap in a public restroom! (I'm talking to you gas station in Redding, CA.)
• Does anyone ever use the O/D Off button?
• I may need a lesson in stopping to smell the roses because I was seven miles from Crater Lake and didn't drive there to have a look.
• If you get pulled over for speeding while on an Indian reservation, will the penalty include scalping?
• The universe may have been trying to tell me something when I drove through Whiskeytown while listening to Whiskeytown (purely by coincidence).
• I'm not sure there's anything in the world that tickles as much as a bug flying up your nose.
• I'm thinking about changing study organisms to a species of fish that's a lot easier to catch, and tastes a lot better too: (The best part about this picture is that you can see how fast I'm going while one hand is filled with Swedish fish and the other is snapping a picture of it. I'm such a safe driver!)
• This song makes me a little teary eyed every time I hear it.
• I may have single handedly kept the bottled water industry afloat (bonus points to anyone who can spot the two bottles of flavored beverages I drank on the trip).
  
• I have peed in enough forest that, according to the rules of the animal kingdom, the southern half of British Columbia is now mine.
• I don't wake up in places that look like this anywhere near often enough!

*The first time I drove through Sandpoint, there were women in bikinis on every street corner. That's not an exaggeration. This time through? Not a single one.

** After fixing the tire, I drove about two miles down the road and saw a bear.

*** Even with their beady eyes and flapping heads.

I want you to notice when I'm not around

For those of you who are still checking in, I made it back safely. The trip was great. I got all the samples I needed, and got to see some beautiful scenery along the way. A lot of beautiful scenery (and some not so beautiful, but who am I to complain?).

I also saw a bear in the wild for the first time in my life (at least that I can remember). I saw the first one about two hours after I crossed the border, and ended up seeing five total. Six if you count the one that was made out of sheet metal, but I probably can't count that.

Anyway, after driving 6747 miles in two weeks, you'd think that I'd be saying things like, "Wow, I've really missed being home. It's sure good to be back."

But I'm not.

Instead, I'm finding myself saying things like, "Why does it feel as though there's a blast furnace blowing on my face?" or "Why doesn't that lake over there have any water in it?" or "Why did I just bet $1000 on the hand when the dealer got blackjack?" or "Why isn't that girl wearing any clothes?"

On second thought, maybe it is good to be back.

More later.

If you tell me that you'll wait for me I'll say I won't be here

I'm leaving for Canada first thing in the morning. I'll be running around British Columbia for the next two weeks. I'm not going to have a computer with me, nor will I be in areas where I expect there to be easy internet access anyway, so obviously I won't be posting during that time. Try not to miss me too much.

I'm going to need you to keep an eye on the internet for me while I'm away. If you can promise to do that, I'll promise to do my best not to get eaten by a bear.

Deal?

Deal!

See you when I get back.

Mr. Ambulance Driver

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to become cranky when you've got an empty stomach? Sure you have. I mean, one third of the children in sub-Saharan Africa are malnourished, and just look at how cranky people are in that part of the world.

However, this phenomenon does not occur only in third world countries but also here in the good old U. S. of A. For example, the other day a friend and I were on our way to lunch and we ended up stopped in traffic even though the light ahead of us was green. I wondered aloud why the idiots in front of me weren't moving. Then I heard sirens and saw an ambulance enter the intersection in front of us. This prompted my friend to grumble, "Stupid ambulance. I wonder if they realize that the word ambulance comes from the latin ambulare which means to walk. They should walk their asses to the hospital so I don't have to wait any longer for lunch."

My sentiments exactly!

Don't make me a target

I'm not quite sure what it is about me, but I always seem to get caught up in very random and perverted conversations. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a pervert. Sometimes the perversion is my fault. Other times, I'm just an innocent bystander in a perversion drive-by. I swear, it just seeks me out. Take the other day for example. I was talking with a couple of people I work with, and somehow we got on the topic of herpes.

Guy 1: Everyone has herpes.
Me: Not me. Maybe everyone else. I've never even had a cold sore.
Guy 1: That doesn't matter. There are like 12 different strains. Everybody has at least one of them.
Me: Well, which one do you have?
Guy 2: Whichever one comes from having dick on dick sex.

(See? Drive-by.)

Guy 1 (still trying to make his point): Have you ever had mono? That's a type of herpes.
Me (sticking to my ridiculous claim): Well, how could I have had mono then? I've never had herpes.
Guy 1: Do you breathe?
Guy 2: Your lungs are made of herpes.
Guy 1: Have you ever had tartar on your teeth? That's herpes.
Guy 2: Do you use tartar control Crest? I do. I use it because I don't want tartar totally eliminated, I just want to keep it under control.

Extreme ways are back again

I saw The Bourne Ultimatum yesterday. If you're wondering whether or not it lives up to the previous two installments, the answer is yes. If you're not wondering that, then don't read that last sentence.

As could be expected, the movie was sold out and the theater was packed. I arrived about 45 minutes early and it still took a while to get a decent seat. There were only two empty seats in the portion of the theater where I like to sit, and I took one of them, leaving the one next to me empty. It didn't stay empty for too long. About five minutes before the movie started, a married couple came in, and the wife ended up taking the seat next to me.

Now, I prefer not to sit next to people when I go to movies, but that's just because I hate people in general and don't want to be near them. It's also because if I'm not sitting by anyone then I don't have to hear someone's running commentary of the movie. For example, yesterday the woman to my right stated to noone in particular, "I really don't like that S.O.B." I wanted to lean over to her and say, "Oh really? You don't like the bad guy of the film? Do you think that might have anything to do with the directing? You're not supposed to like the bad guy! That's why he's the bad guy! Getting you to hate him is the whole point of the script. That way you don't get upset if/when he gets killed at the end." I didn't though.

Having said all that, I realize that it's inevitable that I'm going to have deal with sitting right next to people when I go see a highly anticipated film on opening weekend. The part that annoyed me about the couple that came in after I did was that I was asked if I wouldn't mind moving to an empty seat near the front of the theater so that they could sit together. Well, it turned out that I would mind. You see, it turns out that somehow I managed to make it to the theater early enough to pick the seat that I was in. I picked that seat because I don't like to sit too close to the screen, which is precisely why I make it a point to get to the theater early, so that I don't have to. Next time, plan ahead.

Ok, rant over. Now I just have to ask one question. If there was a cage match between Jason Bourne, James Bond and Jack Bower, who would win? My money's on Jason Bourne.

You and me, me and you, if that's what you're into

If you haven't been watching The Flight of the Conchords on HBO then shame on you. Here's a look at some of what you've been missing.

If you’re into it:


Roll of Tape:



Albi the Racist Dragon:

I can see you in the window of your favorite corner bar, but to reach you is just too far

Occasionally a person comes across an idea that is not their own, but is just too good to not try and pass it off as their own. Now is one of those times. I'm the one doing the swiping. Mostly* because this new item is going to be a big hit with frat boys everywhere, and thus has the potential to make me rich.

People, now is the time for you to open up your wallets so that you can purchase your very own pair of Poonoculars^TM! What exactly are Poonoculars^TM you ask? Poonoculars^TM are a very special brand of binoculars** which are used for the sole purpose of checking out women. Get yours today!

Once you've made your purchase, your life as a lecherous human being will be improved a hundredfold. You'll be able to take your Poonoculars^TM to the beach. Take them to the pool. Or to the high rise next to your neighborhood modeling agency. Hell, you can even take your Poonoculars^TM with you to work (this works especially well if you work on, or near, a college campus, or next door to a hospital full of naughty nurses). Just make sure that you don't leave your Poonoculars^TM out after hours or the custodians might be tempted to swipe them.***





* Also because the friend who brought me AIDS back from Mexico doesn't have a blog, so there's no other way to pass his hilarious term on to you.

** The idea's obviously been around for a while. I have a friend who used to have a third floor apartment right above his complex's swimming pool, so he kept a pair on the living room window sill. But the terminology wasn't right for mass marketing. Until now.

*** Because after all, custodians like to ogle women too.

Where mission bells used to ring

Friend 1: How was Mexico?
Friend 2: It was fun.
Friend 1: I had a dream about you. I've been waiting for you to get back so that I could tell you about it. You guys were in your office, and you had all your bags with you. Why? I don't know, but you opened one of them up and there was this glow coming out of it. You reached in and pulled out a Virgin Mary lollipop that was whiter than the purest snow. They may have been chocolate, but it was definitely on a stick. It was a short dream.
Friend 2: That really happened.
Me: So, if he got a Virgin Mary sucker, then what did you bring me?
Friend 2: AIDS.
Me: Wow! Can you show me where you're keeping it.
Friend 2: I'll give it to you later.

Don't speak, I know what you're sayin'

The other day I was with a friend when his wife called. She had to call the house we were at in order to reach him because his cell phone was turned off. Since it wasn't his house phone, he didn't want to tie it up, so he told her he'd turn on his cell phone and call her back (then, get this, he actually did). He talked to her for a few minutes, then looked at his phone.

Him: No wonder my phone was off, my battery was dead. It just died again while I was talking to her.
Me: Do you want to borrow mine so you can call her back?
Him: No, that's alright. It died, but she wasn't saying anything important anyway.
Me: They never are.

I was wasting my youth on grinding down my teeth

I've mentioned before that I grew up in small towns, but you don't really get a sense of exactly how small until you see this aerial photograph on a postcard. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Dutch John, UT:

You know the town you live in is small when you can just circle your house on an aerial photograph and expect people to be able to use it as a map. Sure this is a pretty old picture, and there are a few more buildings there now, but you get the point.

(I've circled the house that I lived in for three and a half years. Feel free to visit, but be aware that the family that lives there now might tell you stories about me that aren't necessarily true. Also, they might not be receptive to complete strangers coming up to the door to ask about me. On second thought, don't feel free to visit. If you feel that you must, just drive by and wave).

As you might imagine, when you live in a town that small, sometimes it's hard to find things to do in order to keep yourself entertained. I mean, sure there's world class flyfishing three miles away, rock climbing, mountain biking, hiking, river rafting, along with a 91 mile long reservoir where you can swim, boat, fish, etc., and it's all within ten minutes of your house, but who wants to do that all the time?

(Just like anything else, those things become commonplace and somewhat boring when you can do them anytime. Take living in Vegas for example. Sure, strippers seem like a lot of fun, but when you're seeing them every single day it gets a little old. Then you have to start looking for something else to spice things up - like snorting cocaine off a stripper's breasts. Strippers and coke: Don't try to tell me that's not a winning combination.)

Anyway, in order to ease the boredom of living in DJ, sometimes I would end up doing stupid things. Like the time when I knocked up my girlfriend and got married. Or the time when I did this:

My mom HATES that picture. The reason? I'm hanging off the edge of Flaming Gorge Dam. She's such a Quaker. But seriously, this is something that could have resulted in me being the recipient of my very own Darwin Award. Let me show you a different angle:

Sure there was a rock ledge about twenty feet below us, but if for some reason I would have slipped, and then missed the ledge, it would have only been about a 500 foot fall. Maybe you'll believe me now when I say it's a miracle that I survived to adulthood.

Who could see and not believe?

My son has been visiting for the past week while his mom and step-dad are vacationing here. They're leaving today, so yesterday I took most of the day off in order to spend more time with him. My ex-wife called the day before with the idea that we should take him to the Mac King Comedy Magic Show at Harrah's. My son has always been interested in magic, so I thought it was a great idea* and we went. I'm glad we did. The show was hilarious!

I have a friend who works there, and we were at his house the night before. When we told him we were going to see the show the next day, he gave my son a tip on how to be chosen to go up on stage. Of course, my son took his advice and got to become part of the show. My son was on stage for about ten minutes, and enjoyed himself thoroughly. The show was fun to watch anyway, but it was even better to see how happy my son was to be a part of it all.

As we were at my friend's house the night before, we started joking about what kinds of things would happen if my son did get to go on stage.

Son: What if he cuts me in half?
Me: Then let me just say that it's been nice knowing you.
Son: Or what if he makes me disappear?
Me: Then I'd have to thank him.
Son: Maybe he'd make you disappear with me.
Me: Then I'd still be with you. How's that going to give me my freedom?
Son: It wouldn't, but if he made you disappear the world would be a better place.

The kid's getting pretty good at comebacks.




* I was just annoyed that I didn't think of it. It shows that I'm the out of touch parent.

So far away but it's so easy to see

This is one of the best pictures ever taken of me:

I came across it as I was going through some old photographs at my parents' house last weekend. Flieswithoutwings took it one day when we went to the river in order to try out my new (and very first) fly rod. I don't think we were successful in catching any fish that day, but at least we got a great picture out of the deal.

Found out about you

Friend: So, have you heard any rumors about me lately?
Me: Why yes, as a matter of fact, I heard something just the other day.
Friend: Well, it's true.
Me: You're gay?*
Friend: I guess I should have found out what the rumor was before I confirmed it, huh?**





* Not the actual rumor I heard.
** But now that it's been confirmed, it'll have to be the one I spread.

Now you're the only one here who can tell me if it's true that you love me, and I love me

In celebration of my 550th post I've decided to list 55 random things about me. Why 55? Because I can't think of 550. Why do this for my 550th post? I've been meaning to do it for a while (starting with my 300th post, then my 400th, then my 500th, but I never paid close enough attention to where I was at until I passed those "milestones").

Honestly, this might be my 551st post, but I'm too lazy to count up all my saved drafts and subtract them from my total to find out exactly where I stand. That's right, I said saved drafts. That means that some of this mindless drivel has actually been thought about for more than twenty seconds. Hard to believe, I know.

And now, on to the list:
1. I was born on the highway
2. In the back seat of a car
3. My grandmother's car
4. I was delivered by my father
5. Under a streetlight along an on-ramp outside of Parowan, UT
6. The third streetlight to be exact
7. There's no monument there
8. Yet
9. The first thing I tasted when I came into this world was the grime on my dad's finger when he had to reach down my throat and pull something out in order for me to breathe
10. I've been trying to get the taste out ever since so I eat a lot of sweets
11. I prefer to eat cake in a bowl with milk poured over the top
12. My life pretty much revolves around fish
13. I study fish
14. I like to fish
15. But I only like to flyfish
16. Any other kind of fishing is too boring for me
17. I don't like to eat fish
18. Especially not sushi
19. I enjoy driving
20. But not when I'm hitting deer
21. I've hit five deer
22. I only killed two of them
23. One of those was a spotted fawn
24. After running over it, I dragged its body to the side of the road
25. My dad saw it there later, and correctly assumed that it was my doing
26. That was when I lived in the mountains
27. Everyone hit deer there
28. I've lived in Vegas nearly five years.
29. I still can't get used to seeing slot machines in gas stations
30. Or in grocery stores
31. Or seeing transvestites playing them at 3 a.m.
32. I cut my nails with the scissors on my Swiss Army knife key chain
33. When I don't trim my nails, I end up biting them
34. At least with my fingernails
35. Toenails? Not so much
36. I eat a lot of candy
37. I haven't been to a dentist since I moved to Vegas
38. The last two statements do not bode well for my dental health
39. I can't urinate in a crowded bathroom
40. I think it might have something to do with stage fright
41. That's also why I could never star in a porno
42. Well, that and the fact that I'd be done in less than two minutes
43. I'm pretty sure that nobody wants to watch a two minute porno
44. I've never seen a porno
45. Unless you count the stuff they were showing at the Of Montreal concert
46. You know, the gay porn
47. But I didn't exactly watch that
48. I just averted my eyes until it was safe to look toward the stage again
49. I want to get a pilot's license
50. I tell everyone I'm 6' 4"
51. I'm really only 6' 3 3/4"
52. I snore
53. I also talk in my sleep
54. Or so I've been told
55. I've been too busy snoring and talking in my sleep to notice

So there you go. You now know 55 more things about me than you needed, or wanted, to.

We'll bend you over and we'll take you to brown-town

Friend 1: I was telling [Friend 2] that we should get together and beat that guy up.

Me: Really? Why?

Friend 1: Well, it's not because he did anything in particular. It's not like he did anything to hurt [Friend 2], or that [Friend 2] even cares at all about him. It's just the principle that the guy's a douchebag in general.

Me: That sounds like good enough reason to me.

Friend 1: I know, but when I said this to [Friend 2], he didn't want to. He said he's not really into violence.

Friend 2: Only when it's against women . . . and minorities.

Eyes wide open

My Grandma: My goodness you are getting to be so pretty.
My daughter: . . .
Me: I know she is. I've been thinking about poking her eyes out so that she can't see all the boys that are going to be chasing after her and fall in love with them.
Grandma: Well, if you do that then how's she supposed to be able to run away from them?

My grandmother is a wise woman!

"Ha ha, psyche!"

Friend 1 (after making some absurd statement): Psyche! Did you guys ever used to say that?

Friend 2: Of course!

Me: I think pretty much everybody that went to high school in the 90s did. It was a staple to the teenage dialect

Friend 1: I used it occasionally, but it was never fully inserted into my repertoire.

Friend 2: Is that your ass?

I gave my heart to a simple chord

As a parent I think it is my moral obligation to teach my children to listen to good* music. And by that I mean that I need to pass my music tastes on to them. It's a classic case of nature vs. nurture. I would have been thrilled if I could have passed my music tastes to them in chromosome form, but since I couldn't, I have to do it by creating the right environment. That environment takes shape within the confines of my car. I let them choose what to listen to when we're driving, but they have to choose from my CD collection, so they only think they're in control of the stereo**.

At any rate, given this moral obligation, you can imagine my delight when I received the following email from my daughter:

I never e-mailed you that list of the people i want you to burn the cd's for me!

Aerosmith
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club [[all of them]]
The Sun

and I THINK that's it, but if i remember, i'll tell ya.

I'd prefer it if Aerosmith wasn't on that list, but I guess you can't win them all***.






* If I don't do it, they're going to end up listening to all the crappy stuff that gets airtime (such as Kenny Chesney, 50 Cent and Fergie). Then, in twenty years, they're going to have to own up to the shame (and maybe even have to pay for therapy) when they realize how bad that music really is.

** The secret is that I don't keep any music that I don't like in my car, so I win no matter what.

*** Unless you conveniently "forget" to burn any Aerosmith and opt for the new They Might Be Giants album instead.

Lurking behind every curtain

One of my friends has been hanging out with a new girl. She recently broke up with her boyfriend. After my friend hung out with her once or twice, her ex-boyfriend started sending him emails. Yesterday he was telling me a little bit about it. Let's just say it's a weird situation and leave it at that.

As we finished our conversation my friend jokingly said, "Oh, and one more thing. If I should end up dead, you know who to send the police after. Also, feel free to look through my CDs at the house and take whatever you want."

Is it wrong to start secretly rooting for the ex-boyfriend? My friend does have a lot of good music.

Did I ask too much? More than a lot.

I'm introducing a new rule: From this point forward, people can only advertise any change from normal for six months, after which they will have to draw upon something else to gain business. I'm saying this because yesterday I bought a 3 Musketeers bar, and one end of the label advertised "45% less fat" in big red lettering. Now, I'm pretty sure they've been advertising that they have 45% less fat for about ten years now. Am I to believe that each time I see a 3 Musketeers bar there is 45% less fat in that one than the last one I saw? Has the amount of fat in a 3 Musketeers bar been steadily decreasing* for the past decade? No! It's time for them to come up with something new. If they can't do that, then maybe their product isn't all that great and they should take it off the market.

This rule applies to all the bars/restaurants in the Las Vegas area as well. You see, around here you'll see banners that read "Voted Best of Las Vegas" almost everywhere you go. Any businesses that have received the "award" place a banner somewhere to advertise that fact. However, there is never any mention of the year in which the "award" was given. Moreover, if you pay attention, almost every single bar and restaurant has such a banner. How is that possible? Is every business in town the best? I'm certain that some of them could only have received the award a decade or so ago**, like maybe when they were brand new, or when there were no competitors. At all. Yet here they still are, trying to capitalize on their one brief moment of glory. I'm sorry, but if you haven't been able to regain the title of "Best in Las Vegas" for the past ten years, you no longer get to advertise that you were voted "Best in Las Vegas." Period.

This new rule is effective immediately. Those who are found in non-compliance will be forced to pay a fine of $1000, which can be deposited directly into my bank account. Thank you in advance.




* like some kind of fatty half-life?
** or maybe even before there was a city here.

Where's the shadow government when you need it?

Since I'm too lazy to put together a coherent post (as if that ever happens), I'm just going to retell a few jokes I heard over the weekend.

Q: What do George W. Bush and George H. W. Bush have in common?
A: Neither of them knows when to pull out.



Q: What is the difference between George W. Bush and E. coli?
A: E. coli has an exit strategy.



Q: Why is Laura Bush always on top when she and George have sex?
A: Because George can only fuck up.

Don't try to tell me that power can't corrupt a person, you haven't had enough to know what it's like

I just pre-ordered a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Like many people, I'm excited to see how it all ends. I've been thinking about it, and here are a few surprises that, if included in the story, will result in fans feeling cheated (and would possibly cause rioting in the streets, or at the very least, book burnings).

• Harry Potter awakens from a daydream and is pummeled mercilessly by schoolyard bullies for having imaginary friends and playing wizard every day during recess.
• Albus Dumbledore returns from the dead, only to be struck by lightening and killed instantly before he can triumphantly save the day.
• Police raid Gryffindor house and find the biggest meth lab in Britain. Neville Longbottom, the kingpin, gets sentenced to life in Azkaban.
• Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter fly to Massachussetts and get married. They honeymoon on Brokeback Mountain.
• Ron Weasley hands Harry over to the Death Eaters for thirty pieces of silver.
• Severus Snape reveals that he had a torrid love affair with Harry's mom. DNA testing proves that he is Harry's father.
• Harry defeats Voldemort, gets drunk with power, and becomes a tyrannical despot.
• Hermione Granger is introduced to heroin (giving new definition to the term mudblood), contracts HIV from sharing a needle, but dies from an overdose before developing AIDS.
• Harry, Ron and Hermione participate in a menage a trois. The resulting awkwardness causes them to never speak to each other again.
• Voldemort wins.

Seems like I should be getting somewhere . . .

. . . somehow I'm neither here nor there.

Mr. Horrible

One of my students emailed me the other day to find out if/when she could pick up her final exam. In her email she also let me know that someone from this last session had posted a bad review of me on ratemyprofessors.com. Of course, I had to go read it (I usually check in at the end of a semester anyway, just to see what the kids have to say). She was right. This person wasn't very happy.

"Well, I took his summer [introductory biology course] and I don't know if I learned enough. This teacher isn't that good and he picks favors. Also he will give answers for the exam for some people he likes ( I mean he cheats to favor the people he likes). Avoid him. He is terrible. I got an A in his class, but the teacher sucks. He should be teaching high school kids."

I'm not exactly sure where the accusation of cheating "to favor the people I like" comes from. Maybe they meant to say that, when I can, I clarify exam questions for those who raise their hand with questions during a test. Or maybe they mean that I tell the people who actually attend lecture some things that are guaranteed to be on the exam, especially when it's something that's not in the text, just to make sure that they write it down and study it.

This was the first negative review of me that someone's posted on that site (there was one other, but that was posted by my roommate's son, so it doesn't count), but apparently this student wasn't the only one who felt this way, because someone else posted this comment later:

"AVOID THIS TEACHER. He cannot teach, his tests are hard and he picks favor. He thinks that he is the super hot guy, but I heard he got 5 kids. He is ugly and I don't think he is hot. I didn't learn anything from him. Horrible. AVOID HIM"

Oh yeah, my tests are hard. Hard enough to make people cry, haven't you heard? Nevermind the fact that the averages are usually exactly where they should be (if not higher than they should be), and that someone nearly always was able to score 100%. My favorite part is the middle though. Here, read it again:

"He thinks that he is the super hot guy, but I heard he got 5 kids. He is ugly and I don't think he is hot."

Hilarious! I don't think I'm "the super hot guy," because if I were, it stands to reason that I'd be getting a lot of ladies, right? Since that doesn't happen, I'm forced to face the cold reality that I am not "the super hot guy." However, even if I did think that, wouldn't the fact that I "got 5 kids" help prove it? After all, that would mean someone slept with me at least 5 times (well, maybe less than that if there were twins, triplets or quintuplets involved).

I also love how the second person just echoed the first person's sentiments, which really comes across as if they're saying, "Hi, I'm incapable of an original thought, so I'm just going to repeat what someone else has already said, complete with misspellings and poor grammar, and then add a personal attack because I'm mad that I got a bad* grade."




* Just making an assumption here since by this person's own admission, they didn't learn anything from me.

While I down Kentucky bourbon I am waiting for a call

I woke up yesterday feeling nauseous, so I spent the morning lying in bed watching The Godfather instead of going to work. Then I realized that I had some important stuff to take care of and that I had to go to work anyway. At least for a couple of hours.

Almost as soon as I sat down at my desk my phone rang. It was one of my friends.

Him: Hey man, how are you doing?
Me: Not so great. I've been sick today.
Him: Really? What do you have?
Me: Nothing major. I think I just ate something that didn't agree with me last night.
Him: Was it semen?
Me (dryly): No.
Him: Oh, that's right. That agrees with you.
Me: You're such a dick. What do you want?

What will today's adventure be?

Go take this quiz*.

It shows that my dream about My Little Pony may not have been quite so far fetched. A link has been established.

I only scored a 4/12. I don't know if that means I don't play with enough toys meant for little girls, or I don't watch enough porn. Maybe it's a little of both.




*I'm stealing something else from Ver Girl here. Pretty soon, I'm going to just turn over the keys to this thing and let her start blogging in my place.

So quit complaining brother . . . No one lives forever

Q: How do you instantly stop a Native Minnow in its tracks?

A: Put one of these outside the front door of its office:

More than meets the eye

Top 10 signs that Optimus Prime is Jewish*
10. He stars in a Hollywood blockbuster.
9. Father was an armored car.
8. Manora appears on the dash every December.
7. Bag of gold stashed in the glove compartment.
6. High pitched airhorn.
5. Small gear-shift.
4. Curly smokestacks.
3. Yamulka sun roof.
2. Caught spinning a dradle with Megatron.
1. Missing a portion of his front bumper**.





* It's true. I heard a teenager say it at the pool last week.

** Ver Girl (2007).

Why do you waste my time is the answer to the question on your mind

One of my students approached me after class the day before the final. She wanted to know what she could do to improve her grade. She told me that she had totalled up her previous four exams, and that she was sitting at 59% and was afraid she wasn't going to pass. Again. (She also said that this was her fourth time taking the class.) I told her it was a little late for me to give her tips on how to improve (because they all require extra time), and that she just needed to hope that she could do well on the final exam. I mentioned a few things for her to try anyway, but she won't be able to utilize them until next semester (when she's most likely enrolled in the course for the fifth time).

I don't know how it is at other universities, but it seems like there are a lot more people who retake classes here than there ought to be. I'd say at least a third of my students this semester were retaking it. That's definitely more than there were at the university where I got my BS and MS. To me it just seems like a huge waste of time. If you've retaken a class once, and received the same grade the second time around, you're probably just wasting your time by trying again, and again, and again. I know one thing, if it took me four or five tries to get through an introductory level course, I'd do one of two things: 1) Give up on whatever subject it was, and 2) shoot myself in the face with both barrels of a double barrel shotgun.

I related the conversation I had with this student to a couple of guys I work with. Partly because it baffles me so, and partly because I wanted to make fun of the student. Ok, mostly because I wanted to make fun of the student.

Guy 1: Did you ask her what she wants to do with her life?
Me: No, I don't care what she wants to do. It doesn't really matter because she's not going to be able to do it. No med school or grad school is going to take her.
Guy 2: True.
Me: I know I wouldn't if I was sitting on the admissions committee. I don't want someone that can get it right after four or five tries. I want someone who gets it right the first time.
Guy 1: Seriously, but you could have told her to start looking at other options. Maybe you were the one she needed to hear that from.
Me: What other options am I supposed to give her? Should I have told her she'd be better off selling crack at the park? Or maybe selling her body?
Guy 1: Maybe she should be a teacher.
Me: Yeah, because that's who I'd want educating our youth.
Guy 1: I'm serious. You don't have to be that smart for that. I'm not saying all teachers are dumb. After all, my wife's one, but there are certainly some dumb ones out there. In fact, some of the dumbest people I've met since I moved here are working on advanced degrees in the special education department.
Guy 2: Well, how smart do you have to be to teach a retard?

Got a '74 Camaro, I guess that'll do

It's official: My 'new' car is cute! It was declared as such by the girl I had lunch with yesterday. She is also going to be purchasing a new car soon, so she was asking me for advice on how to do it. I gave her a few tips, but qualified them by telling her I probably wasn't the right person to talk to about it. Every time I've purchased a vehicle, even though I've been happy with the vehicles (mostly) and the prices I've paid for them (mostly), I've always felt like I could have spent less than I did if I was better at bargaining. Whether that's the case or not, that's the way I feel. Probably because I don't trust car salesmen (the Bible taught me not to trust snakes). Does anyone?

Why is it that such a large purchase is the only thing where you never quite know how much it's going to cost you until you're actually ready to sign off on the paperwork? If you go to the supermarket to purchase a loaf of bread, you know it's going to cost a certain amount of money. You pick out a loaf, take it to the check-out and pay the pre-determined price. Simple.

If buying bread were like buying a car, it would happen something like this:

Buyer: Yes, I'd like to buy this bread. How much is it?
Seller: How much would you like to spend?
Buyer: I'll give you $2.47 for it.
Seller: Hold on, let me see if I can do that.

*Seller walks into an office for a few minutes and then comes back*

Seller: I can let you have this loaf of bread for the low, low price of $3.89. That's a great deal.
Buyer: That's too much.
Seller: Well, hold on, let me see if I can come down from that at all.

*Seller walks away again, spends a few minutes in the office, and then comes back*

Seller: Ok, I've got a deal worked out where I can let you leave this supermarket with this loaf of bread, and you'll just have to pay 5 installments of $0.75.
Buyer: If I do that I'll end up paying $3.75. That's not much less than your other offer of $3.89. That's still too much.
Seller: Ok, I can let you have it for $3.09.
Buyer: You know what? I'm going to leave now. I'm sure I can find some bread somewhere else.
Seller: Wait, hold on. I feel we're getting close to a deal. What's it going to take for you to be able to go home tonight and make yourself a sandwich?
Buyer: It's going to take you giving me that loaf of bread for $2.47.
Seller: Ok, let me check with my boss. I'll be right back.

*Seller disappears again, probably to go look at porn for a few minutes, and then comes back*

Seller: You've got yourself a deal, $2.47 it is. Now, I'm just going to need you to fill out this paperwork.

Three hours later you're able to leave with your newly acquired loaf of bread.

Seriously, should anything have to be this complicated?

So I'm drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' Coca Coca Cola

I celebrated Independence Day by writing a final exam. I'm not sure this one's hard enough to make people cry, but we'll see. Around lunch time my friend sent me a text message asking if I wanted to join him for lunch. I said yes, and we met up at a deli we frequent.

Usually I try to go with the healthier choices on the menu, but since it was a holiday and all, I figured I'd get something different: a pulled pork sandwich.

Friend: Wow. That's not something you'd normally get.
Me: I know, but I saw someone with it the last time we came here and I thought it looked good.
Friend: It does look good, but it's not very healthy.
Me: Well, it is the 4th of July. I'm celebrating America by celebrating obesity.

I've been locked inside your heart shaped box

A few weeks ago I was listening to Nirvana and remembered how much I love their music. The first time I heard the opening guitar riff of the song Smells Like Teen Spirit, I was hooked. I obviously wasn't the only one. That album served as the band's springboard into the American mainstream. I was still a teenager (albeit a married one) when Kurt Cobain died, and I remember being devastated by the news. I can't think of another celebrity that could duplicate that sense of loss upon hearing about their untimely passing. It sounds stupid, I know, but I was depressed about it for weeks.

As I listened to the music the other night, I realized something that I'd never put much thought into before. The band released their first album, Bleach, in 1989. Cobain killed himself in 1994. While the band obviously formed before the release of their first album (1987, I think), they weren't together very long, yet, they had a tremendous influence on the music industry. They are credited with bringing the entire genre of alternative music to the forefront, and pushing the hair bands of the 80's off to the side. (Move over Poison, here comes something better.) That's quite an accomplishment for only being together for seven years.

It seems that Nirvana is not alone in that regard. There are other bands who weren't together very long, but also had a major impact on the industry. A little band called The Beatles comes to mind. The Beatles were together for ten years (1960-1970), and obviously changed rock and roll forever.

Another band from the same era as The Beatles played a smaller, but still significant, role in the evolution of rock music. The Doors were only together for six years (1965-1971) before Jim Morrison died. The band tried to go on for another year or two, but realized that there was just no replacing The Lizard King and gave up. Obviously both these bands have songs that anyone in the world who listens to music will recognize. That really says something.

A more obscure band (but one that I like a lot), Uncle Tupelo, was only together for seven years (1987-1994), but during that time launched an entire genre: Alternative country. How many bands can take credit for that sort of thing? The members of Uncle Tupelo went on to form Wilco (one of my favorite bands) and Son Volt (another good one), and still produce good music. In my opinion, these guys don't get their due, but as more people start to discover their music, they'll recognize it for what it is: Pure Genius.

I know that there are other bands that fit this category that I didn't mention. Bands that didn't stay together very long, but put out a lot of good music that many others have tried to emulate. I think that my friend Rural Murder would have been more qualified to write this post than me, simply because he knows an infinite amount more about music than I do, but he wasn't around, and I was. So there.

Like watching newborn babies crack from work related stress

I am an evil, evil man. Here is just another reason why you can all be assured that I am soulless. My last exam made a girl cry. I'm not talking about eyes just swimming with tears either, but the kind of crying that involves a wavering voice and tears full on streaming down both cheeks.

I didn't feel bad.

I actually found it kind of pathetic.

And laughed about it with several of my friends afterward.

The following day a professor from the department asked me about my class at a party.

Him: So how's the most well liked [introductory biology] instructor doing?
Me: I'm doing good. Although I'm not so sure I'm the 'most well liked' these days.
Him: Why not?
Me: Apparently I'm turning out to be just as mean as the rest of you. My exam yesterday made a girl cry.
Him: Just one? You've got a long way to go.

They'd never make a movie if everything was great

In case you're interested, here's the story of how I came into this world. (If you're not, you don't need to read the rest of this because it has to do with the last part of the story.)

When I was in Kindergarten, we would always form two lines to go to recess. I remember one day the lines were made up of those who had flown before, and those who hadn't. The ones who had flown got to leave the room first*. I didn't know the last part of the story then (the part where I'd flown on life flight on the very first day of my life). To think, had I known that, I could have made it to the playground about 30 seconds sooner that day.

I remember telling my mom about it when I got home from school that day. She told me the story then. I remember being upset that I could have been in the first line after all. Oh, missed opportunities.




* As if they weren't already privileged enough!

I need red flags and long nights

Yesterday I ran into a student of mine from last semester as I was walking across campus. He invited me to join him later that evening for an event at the pool at the Hard Rock Hotel. Not that it meant much to me, but they were giving out free vodka starting at 7 p.m., and there was going to be a free concert sometime later in the evening.

I talked with some other friends about it while we ate lunch.

Me: I think we should go. He's a pretty cool guy, and it could be fun. Plus, he said he had three girls flying in from Kansas City who wanted to hang out.
Friend 1: Who is this guy that he has three girls flying into town?
Me: I guess they're just friends of his.
Friend 1: But what's the catch? Is he some kind of pimp?
Me: Well, the girls are all pre-op trannies.
Friend 2: But what's the catch?

If that's not enough of a catch, then I don't know what to tell you. Have fun I guess.

Anyway, we went to our usual Friday night hang out, but since one of my friends had sand in his vagina and left early, my other friend and I decided we'd go to the Hard Rock. When we got to the pool, it was packed. And by packed, I mean packed with very attractive girls. Unfortunately for my friends, they started charging for drinks as soon as we got there. Since that was apparently the only reason my former student was there, he left shortly thereafter. My other friend and I stuck around just to enjoy the scenery (it felt like we were in an episode of Entourage), but after a while even that started to get old.

Me: I don't know how excited I am to stick around for the concert.
Friend: Who's playing?
Me: I don't know. I think [Former Student] told me, but I don't remember.
Friend: But there are hot chicks everywhere. I mean, even the not-so-hot-chicks are hot.
Me: Good point. We should stay.

It was only another ten minutes when the band took the stage and started playing. We were off to the side of the stage but fairly close (by that I mean that if it were a normal concert we would have been backstage watching from behind the side curtains). I didn't recognize their first song, but it tickled my memory just a little bit.

Me: You know, these guys kind of sound like She Wants Revenge. Especially that guy's voice.
Friend: You're right. They kind of do.

At the end of the first song they introduced themselves: "We're She Wants Revenge."

I love it when I'm right.

I'm not a huge fan of the band, but I've heard the songs of theirs that get airtime (I normally hate listening to the radio, but have to listen to either that or silence when I'm working in the lab. I really need to get an ipod). It turned out that I've actually heard a lot more of their stuff than I thought I had. It's just that in my mind every time I heard them on the radio it was the same song. That turns out not to be the case. It's just that all of their songs kind of sound the same to me (probably the reason why I'm not a huge fan). Nonetheless, it was a free concert and not a bad way to spend the evening. The crowd kind of sucked, but that's to be expected of Vegas crowds in general. Let alone Vegas crowds that are just there for free alcohol and don't even know who's playing.

I'm glad I went, because I did get to see a ton of hot girls, and it was a free concert that ended up being ok, and because it was something a little different than normal. I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Not every Friday night has to end with us snortin' crank and bangin' hos.

Oh, and by the way:

I talked to God and God said nothing special

A lot of you are probably already aware of this site, but those who aren't should definitely check out their t-shirts. I haven't gone through everything, but was particularly fond of some of their religious ones (under the funny t-shirts and gifts category - the real religious ones suck).

Here are some of my favorites:

- When God made me he was just showing off.
- I can't. I'm Mormon.
- Jesus would slap the shit out of you.
- I was an atheist until I realized I am God.
- Jesus loves me, but only for my money.
- Polygamy: Not just for the Mormons anymore.
- What would Bacchus do?
- Jesus loves you, but I think you're a douchebag.
- Nuke a gay whale for Jesus.

The last one sounds like something our president would wear while he's clearing brush down on the ranch.

Let's waste time chasing cars around our heads

Now that I've successfully completed my shopping for a used car and life is starting to get back to normal, I thought I'd share some of the things that I learned from the used car salesmen that I talked to last week. Obviously some time has passed, so I may not be relating this verbatum, but the overall message is the same.

Dealership 1
Salesman: So, do you have a wife?
Me: I have an ex-wife.
Salesman: So she's not going to be driving around with you?
Me: No. Don't get me wrong, we're still friends, but she's not going to be driving my car.
Salesman: I have an ex-wife too. She cheated on my with my best friend.
My Friend: So you aren't still friends then?
Salesman: I'm Arab. We kill people.

Later . . .

Salesman: So how much are you looking to finance?
Me: Well, I'm debating how much I want to put down, but I have enough that I could put down a pretty sizeable amount.
Salesman: Actually, it's better to have a low down payment because banks don't want to fund small loans. So, if you wanted to put $5000 down, you should just put $2500 down instead and put the other $2500 into a savings account. Then when you make your monthly payment, you just pull half of it from that savings account and it's like your payment is cut in half.

Seriously, do people buy into this type of bullshit?

Dealership 2 (over the phone)
Me: Hi. I was calling about a car you have advertised . . . I wanted to know how many miles it has so I can decide if I want to come in and test drive it.
Salesman: Well, that car has 100+ thousand miles on it. (without really answering my question, and then without waiting for my response) I can tell by your voice that's too high for you. Have you thought about maybe getting into a PT Cruiser?
Me: No. I don't really like those.
Salesman: Alright, alright. Would you be interested in a Sebring instead? Do you like those?
Me: I can't really say that I've seen much of those, but that's ok.
Salesman: Alright, well I'm just trying to get a feel for what you're looking for.
What I wanted to say: Here's a hint: Why don't you just fucking ask me what I'm looking for in a car? That might be a good way to "get a feel for what I'm looking for."
What I did say: It would probably just be easier if I came out there and took a look around to see if you have anything I'd be interested in.

What I learned: Car salesmen don't really give a shit what you're looking for, often times they're just out to push a certain vehicle onto somebody. I know, I know, big surprise. I imagine their after work conversations go something like this:

Salesman 1: So, I heard you sold another PT Cruiser today.
Salesman 2: Yeah. It's crazy. All I had to do was mention it and the guy bought one. It's like people don't even realize they're giant pieces of shit.
Salesman 1: I know. I kind of feel bad selling them to people. Well, I mean, I'd feel bad if I actually had a soul.
Salesman 2: Bwahahahahaha. A car salesman with a soul. That's a good one.

Dealership 3
Finance Manager: You probably hear this all the time, but you know who you look like, right?
Me: *Nodding my head yes*
Finance Manager: James Spader, in that movie Less Than Zero.

Wha, wha, whaaaaaat!? I have another doppelganger? I was fully expecting to hear Bill Clinton. Now I'm going to have to watch that movie just to see what he was talking about.

Everybody dance now

Here you can see some awesome dance moves by my youngest. This is before the "fun factory" incident.



Sorry about there not being any sound. Apparently I am retarded when it comes to running my camera. Just pretend that you can hear some 80's music playing in the background. Any 80's music will do.

I survived, it's good enough for now

Saturday I took my kids to a pool party. Swimming is definitely not a bad way to spend an afternoon when the temperature is nearing 110. And to think, there's still another 5-10 degrees to go before we hit the summer highs. Man I hate this place in the summer. On the bright side, at least it's always sunny (pun intended).

I knew there was going to be trouble when I saw my four year old who was happily standing by the side of the pool shooting his sister with a water gun throw the gun, grab his butt with one hand, and take off running for the house only to have trouble opening the door and then suddenly stop and turn around with a look of shame in his eye. I walked over and asked him if he'd pooped in his swimming suit, and he sheepishly said that he had. To steal a phrase from CW, it was the worst Play-Doh fun factory ever.

I took him in the bathroom, and deftly maneuvered the suit off his body without spilling any diarrhea on my hands or the floor. His legs and the toilet seat weren't so lucky. He looked down and pointed out the obvious.

Him: Dad, there's poop right there.
Me: Yes there is.
Him: That's disgusting.
Me: Yes it is.
Him: Dad, there's some poop on my penis.
Me: Here. You have to wipe that off with this toilet paper.
Him: Ok. **wiping**That's disgusting.
Me: Tell me about it.

I put him in the bath, put his swimming trunks in the washer, and then had him wear my t-shirt until he could wear his clothes again. He was very embarrassed about it, and acted self conscious about being the only person there who was wearing a t-shirt that went all the way to their ankles with absolutely nothing on underneath. I tried to get him to feel less ashamed by telling him that it could happen to anybody, but he didn't really start acting like his usual self until he got his swimming trunks back out of the wash.

I wonder if it would have helped if I'd have told him this story about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life:

I was in second grade when a similar bout of peristalsis hit my eight year old colon. I booked it for the boys bathroom, but when I got to the door that entered it from the playground, it was stuck. I pulled and pulled, but the door wouldn't open. Probably because of the fat kid that was on the other side that thought it would be funny to hold the door shut so nobody could get in. Well, it worked. I didn't make it, and instead dumped a load of the runny stuff in my pants. I went into one of the stalls to try and clean it up, to no avail. It was all over the place.

Now seems like a good time to talk about how traumatic it was to go to the bathroom at my elementary school anyway. I don't know how it is today, but I doubt it was as bad as my school was then. Anytime anyone was using one of the bathroom stalls, there would always be kids who would climb up and look over to see who was in there. Then they would sit there and yell to people in the hall about how so-and-so was pooping. I'm hoping this weird behavior was unique to my school (and maybe some in Germany - they obviously get into the whole scheizer thing over there sometime). I still don't like to go into stalls in public restrooms, and I'm sure it's partly due this experience.

Anyway, this time was no different. As I sat there trying to wipe diarrhea off my clothes, several of my classmates peered down at me from above while chanting pooh-pants over and over again. Then my teacher, who was a woman, came into the boys bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. Obviously this was a very big deal to 8 year old Native Minnow, but she did go to the trouble of cleaning me up and calling my mom to come get me, and for that I should be grateful.

Upon my return to school I was subjected to being called Pooh-Pants on the playground, but that died off after a few days. At least it did with most of the kids. There was one kid who was a year older than me who continued to call me that every single time he saw me for the next few years (basically until he moved on to seventh grade). I remember one day when I had to wear my cub scout uniform to school for some reason, and I thought about what a relief it would be when that kid didn't recognize me because I was in uniform. If he didn't recognize me he wouldn't call me Pooh-Pants.

I was crushed when I turned a corner at recess and that was the first thing I heard him call out. How could this be? How could he recognize me? I was wearing a cub scout uniform for crying out loud. How could he not respect the uniform? Perhaps even worse than that was the time he brought it up during my sophomore year of high school. In front of one of the cutest girls in the senior class. Oh how I hated that guy! Talk about dragging a joke out for way too long.
I must be over it by now though, or I wouldn't be relating this story online to be seen by anybody who happens to come along.

Sing with me now

My kids came to town last week. They got here Wednesday night, but I didn't really get to start spending any time with them until Friday because they went to a wedding on Thursday while I was out buying a car.

Anyway, on one of the days they were here I started singing a song while I was fixing lunch for some reason.

Sha la la la la la
My oh my
Look at the boy too shy
Ain't gonna kiss the girl
whoa whoa

Sha la la la la la
Ain't that sad
Ain't it a shame, too bad
He's gonna miss the girl

Roommate's Son: Why are you singing a song from the Little Mermaid? It's a little girl movie.
Me: It's an awesome movie.
11 year old son: Maybe he just likes to watch mermaids. It's ok Dad. There's no shame in that.

No shame indeed.

Happenstance has changed my plans

Part of my master plan for my life was to drive my car into the ground so as to avoid having to make car payments until after I finished my degree. Unfortunately, the driving-the-car-into-the-ground part of that happened earlier than I would have liked (although, not earlier than I could have reasonably expected). This last batch of necessary repairs included a new serpentine belt and belt tensioner, a new starter, and new motor mounts. It would have cost approximately $1400 in parts and labor to fix, and that didn't even take care of whatever was dumping water (water pump?), the alternator that's starting to show signs of wearing out, and the oil leak that would have taken another $800 to fix. It all seemed like a little much to try and take care of on a 1999 Mercury Mystique with 166,000 miles. Most vehicles from Ford Motor Company tend to crap out at about 120,000 miles, so I feel as though I've been pushing my luck for the past year or so.

So, after weighing my options, I decided to start looking around for another vehicle. I simply can't afford to sink a couple thousand dollars into a car that isn't worth that much. Especially when there's a very real possibility that something else would go wrong shortly thereafter. Even though I dreaded the thought of having to deal with all the weasely used car salesmen in Vegas, I figured it was the best option. I told you about the slimeball sales manager that my friend and I talked to the other day before the BRMC concert (seriously, if I were to write a movie script where one of the characters was a used car salesmen/drug dealer, I would want the casting director to find this guy and offer him the part). I was afraid that they would all be like that.

Fortunately for me, my friend knows a guy who works for a car dealership, so he arranged for me to go out and see him. I have to say, that's definitely the way to shop for a car. My friend told me that the salesman was a great guy and that I wouldn't have to worry about him trying to screw me over. So I called the guy and he told me to come out and see if there was anything on the lot that I liked, and that if there was, he could get me a deal for $300 over invoice. I figured it was worth a shot, so I borrowed my roommate's car and went out there. Honestly, it felt a little weird pulling up to a car dealership to shop for a used car in a $30,000 vehicle that's only about a year old, but that's just how I roll.

I met my friend's friend, told him what I was looking for, and he showed me several vehicles that would suit my needs. After a couple of test drives, I settled on one (a 2006 Nissan Sentra with 16,500 miles), and signed off on all the paperwork that night. I just might be the worst car shopper in the history of car shoppers, because I feel like I rushed into things. Plus, the vehicle I got was a couple thousand more than I was looking to spend, but it should also be a very reliable car that maintains its value. I should be able to drive it for a long time.

Earlier in the day I'd told my mechanic to fix the bare minimum on my car, so that I could drive it to a car dealership and use it as a trade-in. I knew I wasn't going to get anything for it if I couldn't even get it to the dealership under its own power. They'd called me earlier to tell me it was ready, but I hadn't picked it up yet, so I couldn't take my new car home until the next day (I could have, but that would have required two of the employees to follow me home, then one of them would have had to drive me back the following day when I dropped off my trade. I told them it would be less hassle for everyone for me to just pick it up then, and that I could make it that long without any severe emotional stress).

Yesterday I drove my old car out there. I have to admit, it was one of the more stressful drives of my life. There was still a rattle coming from somewhere in the engine and I knew I had to make it all the way across town (about a 30 minute drive) without it breaking down on me in order for them to take it off my hands. I was also afraid that they'd start it up, hear the rattle in the motor and say they couldn't give me the agreed amount for it, but everything went fine, and I got my new car.

I'm currently suffering from a great deal of buyer's remorse. While it was a great deal, and my payments are exactly where I wanted them to be, I'm nervous about how I'll be able to afford the increase in insurance along with that. The better gas mileage will help with that (~8 mpg better than my old car), but it won't cover all of it. Now seems like as good a time as any to really start marketing the tweaker-on-the-go meth kit (described here and pictured here). Also, I'm once again accepting applications from potential sugar mamas.

These days it seems as though I've lived a lonely lifetime

This morning I was washing my hands in the men's room when a midget with a mullet walked in. At first I was amused. Then I realized that he probably still gets more action than me.

I'm fightin' just to breathe as I get back on my knees

Last night I saw Black Rebel Motorcycle Club play a show. After all, what better way to solve my transportation issues than to spend an evening not thinking about them? Actually, that's not entirely true. While I didn't do much about solving my car problems while I was at the show, I convinced my friend to take me to a car dealership beforehand so I could test drive a couple of vehicles and see if they'd be suitable for me. In the two hours that we were there I was reminded of how much it sucks to shop for cars. It's never been a pleasurable experience, but I think it's compounded by several orders of magnitude by trying to do it in Las Vegas. The sales guy seemed nice enough, but he is a car salesman after all, so I assume he was trying to screw me over just like all the rest are. Not only that, but the manager was one of the sleaziest looking individuals I've ever seen in my life (and that's saying a lot since this is Vegas). I don't think I'll be going back.

We got to the concert early due to a mistake on my part. I thought the show started at 6, but that's when they opened the doors. There were two opening acts, and the first took the stage around 7, so my friend only had to be annoyed with me for a short while, but I was glad we were there for it. The band's name was Magic Mirror, and they were pretty good. I talked to the drummer after their set. He said they were from L. A. and that they didn't have any albums out because it was all pretty new, but that hopefully they'd get something together soon. I'll definitely be on the lookout for it. (I don't remember the name of the second opening act, but it didn't do a lot for me. It was more acoustic than the first one, and the lady had a good voice, but I can't see myself really getting into her stuff. I think my friend said he caught himself yawning during it. That's not really a good sign.)

Then Black Rebel Motorcycle Club took the stage.

They. Rocked. Hard. There were a few glitches, like the time they couldn't find the harmonica when they played Ain't no easy way, or when the bass player broke a string in the middle of a song, but the latter just goes to show how hard they rock. There were a couple of times when I just closed my eyes and felt the music reverberate through my body. I got chills during Berlin and Weapon of Choice, always the sign of a good show. They played most of my favorite songs off their last two albums, but not anything off their earlier ones, which was a little disappointing. I suspect that part of that had to do with the venue because at the end of the show he said, "They're saying we only have time for one more song, so thank you for coming out." It was cool that they drug that "one more song" out for about 10 minutes by doing a lot of funky stuff with the bass and generating a lot of feedback at the end (but in a way that sounded awesome). They're a band that doesn't shy away from doing a lot of encores, so I'm certain they would have played longer if they didn't have pressure to wrap things up. They still played for about an hour and a half, so I can't complain. If you get a chance, they're definitely worth checking out.

You've got a great car, yeah what's wrong with it today? I used to have one too

Saturday I was fortunate enough to be invited to the European style pool at the Wynn Resort and Casino. In other words, a top optional pool. Top. Optional. Two words that made my entire weekend. It was so nice to finally be in a place where I could take my top off without feeling objectified. It almost makes up for the fact that my car broke down a few hours later (and now I have to decide between paying as much as the car itself is worth to have it fixed, or buying a different one). Almost.

Your mom could use a guy like me

Last night while I was out with some friends I turned in my chair and accidentally elbowed a waitress as she passed by.

Friend: You should apologize to her. With flowers. And candy. And oral sex.
Me: I should tell her that, she'd think it was funny.
Friend: You're right, she would.

A few minutes later she went back to the table she'd been coming from before, so I turned around to see if I could catch her. Instead she'd gone the other way back to the kitchen.

Me (as I turned back to face my friend): Oh, I thought she was coming.
Friend: Not without the oral sex. Or maybe she would without the oral sex. I don't know how good you be.
Me: Nor will you ever.
Friend: I don't want to.
Me: Good. But if you did want to I guess you could always ask your mom.
Friend: She said you suck.

She's such a liar!

Accidentally in love

There are two things I don't understand about this ad. First, why is Donkey smiling? I didn't think he was gay. Also, I don't recall there being anything in the first two movies about him being a junkie, so his involvement here puzzles me.

Second, why is Shrek smiling? You'd think that Donkey's hooves pulling on your genitalia would hurt, not feel good. It only makes sense if Shrek's a masochist.

Can you still have any famous last words when you're somebody nobody knows?

In case you needed more evidence that my thoughts take me to some pretty strange places, the other day I started thinking about what I'd like my last words to be. I mean, think about it, if someone else is with you when you die, these are the words they'll be repeating to anyone else who asks them about your final moments. Since these words will be repeated over and over again (if you're not famous, or even well liked, you could probably get rid of the second 'over'), they are not something that should be taken lightly.

There are tough guys, like Doc Holliday, who simply go out saying, "This is funny." However, I'm not particularly tough, nor am I very brave, so I can't follow along in the footsteps of Doc, or any of these other guys (those who were involved in revolutions usually have the best ones).

Nathan Hale: "I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country"
Charles Darwin: "I am not the least afraid to die."
Karl Marx: "Go on, get out! Last words are for fools who haven't said enough!"
Che Guevara*: "I know you have come to kill me. Shoot, coward. You are only going to kill a man."

The reason why it's so important for me to figure this out now is because when this type of thing is left until the last possible second, people end up saying things like Pancho Villa did:

"Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."

Now, I'll never be as famous as any of these people, but I'd still like to go out with something cool. After much deliberation, and depending on the situation, I'd like my last sentence to be one of the following:

"See you in Hell!"

or,

"Oh my, that feels good."

or,

"The treasure is buried in the . . ."




* My favorite by far. Too bad Che said it first.

I know someday I'll meet him but I don't know where or when

You know how they say that everyone in the world has someone that looks exactly like them? I envy those who have one that isn't famous. They never have to worry about complete strangers approaching them at random times just to let them know that they look EXACTLY like so-and-so.

For those of you who aren't already aware of this, Bill Clinton is my doppelganger. People have told me that ever since he ran for president the first time, but they're doing it more frequently now. The other night I must have really looked like him because people came up to me thrice to let me know. THRICE!!!*

I'm going to have to start responding with, "I did not have sex with that woman!"




* I know I've used this before, and I'll probably use it again. Thrice is a good word.

We've got everything down to a science so I guess we know everything

It's time for a biology lesson. Here is a picture of a chloroplast. Look at it and study its components. Take as much time as you need.

Now that you've had some time to study, I'm going to give you one of the multiple choice questions I gave my students last week.

Q. All the parts of a chloroplast are

a. the outer membrane, inner membrane, stroma, thylakoid and grana.
b. the outer membrane, inner membrane, chloroplastal matrix, thylakoid.
c. the thylakoid, grana, cristae, outer and inner membranes.
d. the stroma thylakoid and grana.
e. your mom.

Including choice 'e' probably wasn't the most professional thing I've ever done, but oh well. Take that The Man!

Fuck you kitty you're gonna spend the night outside

Here is further proof that I am a cold hearted bastard (I mean that in the figurative sense, not the literal sense as I do in fact have a father).



The only thing that warms my heart when I look at this picture is the thought of of lighting an oil soaked rag and tossing it into the box.

What? Fire's warm.

Lazyhead wants to rest

Friday night when I was hanging out with some people from work a few of them ordered food. I was going to eat with one of my friends as soon as he finished his drink, so even though I was hungry, I didn't want to order anything. Instead, I took a few of my friend's fries to tide me over. A few minutes later, another friend, who happened to be sitting right next to me, got some food.

Me: Good. French fries that are actually close to me.
Friend 1: You could have had more of mine.
Me: I know, but in order to do that I'd have to stand up and reach clear across the table.
Friend 1: Was that too much effort to put forth?
Me: Yes.

And you all thought I was only lazy when it comes to microwaving things. I won't even get into the fact that I'd have also needed to dip the thing in catsup once I did all that standing and reaching. Just the thought of that is wearing me out.

A movie's showin' so you're goin'

I just saw the movie Knocked Up. It was everything I'd hoped it would be, which is to say it's a very funny movie. There was a time in my life when I thought I was above the kind of crude humor that this movie revolves around, but thankfully that time has passed. A friend of mine saw it last weekend and recommended it, albeit with this bit of advice: "Don't go see it with a girl you intend on sleeping with later that night. The whole pregnancy part of the story kind of kills the mood." Fortunately (?) for me, I have nobody that fits the bill, so I was able to enjoy the movie without it being a cock-blocker.

Normally I tend to be a little wary of going to movies like this one when they've first opened since they're the ones that tend to draw the teenage crowd. Since groups of teenagers tend to just sit and giggle the entire time they're in a theater, I was certain that I was going to have to do my best Strong Bad impersonation if the audience got too boisterous by turning around and saying, "This is my fist. You might recognize it from such features as the amazingly true story of your face in five seconds." Instead, I was pleased to find the theater fairly empty so I'll save the threats until next time.

While I enjoyed the comic aspect of the movie, there were also parts that reminded me of the times when I was privileged enough to get to deal with a hormonal pregnant woman. That's something I hope to never experience again. I think that it's good to be reminded of these things from time to time so that I remember that women are nothing but trouble and that it's best to just steer clear of them altogether.

Don't you want to help me, tell me what to do, help me find a way

There's a girl that I'm interested in (Ok, ok, there are like five girls that I'm interested in, but this post is only about one of them, and it's not the girl from the Corvette story. I'm a whore. So what?), and I'd like to know if she's interested in me as well. There are several things that lead me to believe that she might be, but then there are a few things that make me think that's just wishful thinking. So, the other night when I was talking to one of my friends, I brought it up. I told him the reasons I think she might be interested, the reasons why she might not be, and then asked his opinion.

Him: That's tough. It's always hard to know what a girl's intentions are. She could be into you, or she could just be being nice.
Me: That's what I thought. I know I could just ask her. The truth is, I'd be ok with just being friends, but I'd also be ok with being more.
Him: I can understand that.
Me: I just don't want to make a move and end up freaking her out so that she doesn't even want to be friends. You know?
Him: Yeah.
Me: So what would you do?
Him: I'd probably just put it in her butt.

That would certainly be one way to find out.

Even though he's a guy and even though I'm not gay

Friend: You should really go see that movie. It's freakin' funny.

Me: I almost went to it on Saturday night, but then [Friend] called. She and her boyfriend wanted to come over and catch up on this season's episodes of Entourage. Originally we were going to do that sometime Sunday, but when I talked to her I checked On Demand and saw that it was going to take a while for her to catch up so she wanted to break it up. Anyway, they came over, but when I went back to On Demand it wasn't working. It said there was a technical difficulty and that I needed to call the cable provider so then I had to look all over the place to find a number for Cox.

Friend: Really? I'd think you'd already have a number for cocks on speed dial.

Me: Sometimes I make it too easy for you, don't I?

Friend: You really do.

If your future is now you can forget the past

Me (opening fortune cookie): Well, it's about time!

Male Friend: Does that have anything to do with this?

La Cienega Just Smiled

In lieu of anything interesting today, I'm just going to give you one of my favorite songs: La Cienega Just Smiled by Ryan Adams.

Oh the night here it comes again
It's on with the jeans the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad
For such a little girl

I hold you close in the back of my mind
Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt
I'm too scared to know how I feel about you now
La Cienega just smiled, "See you around"
And I hold you close in the back of my mind
Raise my glass 'cause either way I'm dead
Neither of you really help me to sleep anymore
One breaks my body and the other breaks my soul
La Cienega just smiles and waves goodbye

Oh the night here it comes again
It's off with the jeans the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad
For such a little girl
And I hold you close in the back of my mind
Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt
I'm too scared to know how I feel about you now
How I feel about you now
La Cienega just smiles and says "I'll see you around"

I bought the CD (Ryan Adams - Gold) as I was going through my divorce, so I was in a pretty fragile emotional state. This song would make me lose it every time I played it. At least if I was alone. It still brings up some pretty strong emotions from time to time, and that's the sign of a great song. At least in my opinion. I don't know that this clip really does the song justice, but it's the best one I could find on YouTube. I hope you enjoy it.

And so it is, just like you said it would be, life goes easy on me most of the time

Last night I played shuffleboard for the first time in my life. It wasn't the version where we stood on the deck of a cruise ship as there's an overall lack of cruise ships here in town, but a smaller version that can fit along the edge of a wall in a pub. I don't know if I can say I've truly lived until last night. Ok, that might be taking it a bit far, but it was fun.

This is the first time I've hung out with the people I was playing with since the big horseshoe tournament a few weeks ago. I told one of them that we should get together and play horseshoes again too. She said that she knew of a park that had horseshoe pits, so we could have a picnic and play soon. I told her that it sounded like a good idea and to make it happen. I know, I know. Horseshoes? Shuffleboard? You're probably wondering when the incontinence is going to set in.

It just did.

Alzheimer's too.

Now what was I talking about again? Oh yes, Bocce Ball. I was introduced to the game by a friend of mine while I was working on my master's degree. He was working on his Ph D then, and like all good graduate students, we spent an inordinate amount of time doing things completely unrelated to our work, like seeing who could play Sherlock and hold the record for solving a puzzle in the least amount of time (that would be me). But I digress. When a nice spring day would roll around it was pretty much mandatory that we go outside and strike up a game of Bocce Ball. It's been years since I've played that game too, but someone was talking about it the other day.

Him: You know another fun game you should try is Bocce.

Me: I love that game! I need to get a set of balls so I can play again.

Him: I don't think you can buy them, you pretty much have to be born with them.

Me: Well, I used to have some, but my ex-wife kept them when we split up.

Him: Wait. Did you just say that your ex-wife took your balls?

Me: Indeed I did.

I think he and I were talking about two completely different things.

It's coming down to nothing more than apathy

It's that time again. Time for me to share some of my favorite comments from students on my TA evaluations from last semester. (It was actually that time a couple weeks ago, since that's when I got the evals back, but I've been too lazy to put the post together until now.)

As always, misspellings, bad grammar, etc. come from the students, not from me. Without further ado:

Comments about the lab

What was your favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Cutting shit up! I love disection.
- The pig. You get to cut up a pig need I say more?

Which lab experience was most informative and educational for you?
-Pigs win again!

What was your least favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Anything on the computer SUX!
- Anything to do with plants. It was just an insufferable bore.
- Invertebrate anatomy - too many things to remember on a lame subject.

What was the major strength of the lab?
- Semilive/live specimens
- You learn cool stuff.
- Hard-on learning!!!
- <3 [Native Minnow] <3

Comments about the lab instructor

In general, how would you rate your lab instructor as a teacher?
- Woo! Very helpful and explained things mucho well.

How would you assess your lab instructor's ability in making things understandable, and their willingness to help?
- Check and check - maybe get an aka Keil Holliday =P

What were his/her strong points?
- Best TA Ever!

How could he/she improve?
- I don't think [Minnow] can improve - he is perfect.
- Don't do the SpongeBob laugh unless you mean it.
- Pierce other ear too.
- Bring in more candy.
- He could improve by working out more.
- Smile more =D, and bring coffee in the morning.
- Bring breakfast.
- A boombox in the lab with a CD to make a [lab] soundtrack.
- Be less douche-y. Just kidding, outstanding guy that [Minnow].