One Step Closer To Homeyness

I'm still digging my way through possessions after my move two months ago. Anyone who has moved recently, unless you are this guy, knows that moving means having a trickle of boxes all over the place for several months...unless you have a basement where you can dump it all for the next 10 years. Seriously, nothing helps you reduce clutter and figure out what is really important like moving to a smaller space.

Within the last week or so, I have made some major strides in getting the living area presentable. Most of the boxes are gone and I can freely move furniture around. The "entertainment center" has been up and running almost since day one. I'm really digging the TV stand I got which raises the LCD TV up and allows me to tilt and rotate it. Also, there is more room for my gaming consoles and chotchkies.

The Great and Powerful LCD!
(too lazy to Photoshop Oz into the screen)

So, order is slowing coming to the apartment, but like the Dude's rug, I needed something to pull the room together. Really, in my case, it was more about making a creative, symbolic gesture that this was "home". I had already known what it was going to be for some time, but it took several years of it resting in storage and the impulse to dig it out and unpack it for it to become a reality. Unlike most of my previous dwellings, I wanted this new one to say a little more than "I like Apple and movies" with my various framed posters. I wanted the expressions to be a little more subtle, a little more varied, and a bit more...three dimensional.

Voila! My first 3D wall sculpture, AND the first thing I put on my new walls.

What makes this sculpture even more significant, beyond the catharsis of designing a new home, is that this sculpture used to hang in my grandparents home. I remember it very clearly as a child being fascinated by it and the fact that it was more than a picture. I was always careful, but it was fun to touch. It is basically all sculpted brass, copper, and wire. The picture doesn't have the best lighting but shows off the color tones the best. It has a very warm tone with it's golds, oranges, and browns. It very much reminds me of my favorite season, Fall, which I essentially gave up by moving to California. I had found out, in my childlike curiosity, that it would make sounds if you touched it. The tiny echos of metal and vibrations. It also seems strong and fragile at the same time. And it was this attachment that prompted me to acquire it when my Grandmother passed away, as it had also hung up in her newer home for many years before she passed. So like the illusionary raindrops that hit the brass umbrellas, memories and feelings drip off this sculpture creating ripples in my mind and heart. It's the first thing I have hung up that makes me think...."home".

Where Trivia Comes From

I'm sure some of you think that Trivia comes from Trivialvania. You are obviously stupid and I don't want you reading my blog. On second thought, I think I only have two readers in spite of having three subscribers, so go ahead and read it, but as soon as I have thousands of readers, please go away. Seriously.

Where was I...oh yes, trivia. According to most dictionaries, trivia is defined as...

pieces of information of little importance or value

It is arguable that any piece of information that exists has, or has had, some significance at some point in time, otherwise why would it even exist?! Trivia, whatever it's original purpose now finds it's primary purpose is to drive millions of alcoholics, or would-be alcoholics, to bars and pubs across the nation in a socially acceptable manner. It is for that very reason that I tend to latch onto odd bits of trivia I stumble upon. I'm not officially an alcoholic yet, but I have lofty goals of achieving it.

Here is the place in the post where I bring "trivia" and "stupid" together in a way that looks like I planned the whole thing from the beginning. Many years ago, before everything was in Wikipedia, people would actually discover new things that people had never seen or heard about before. These people were probably rich, or stupid, or...well, I already said "rich" didn't I. Rich people probably discovered a lot because one, they had the money to do it, and two, they were the only ones who could take four month vacations without their family starving to death. Anyway, these people were probably "on safari" complaining about the heat when they saw an odd thing standing next to a tree, that had a very long neck, and was yellowish with brown spotty patches. Being not particularly clever people, they saw SPOTS and LONG LEGS as the dominant characteristics. The one thing they knew had spots was a leopard. Disney had not yet released 101 Dalmatians apparently. Also, the one thing they knew had knobby, long legs was...a camel. So being the amazing, creativity-barren people that they were, they called this creature a camelopard. Brilliant.

Have you guessed what it is yet? (What blows me away is that my spell-checker actually knew how to spell camelopard)

Anyway, this is the odd video that turned me onto this bit of trivia along with an alternative to my stupidity theory.




Heh...the new, compact, selfish dog.

What's even more interesting is that I was led from the previous video to THIS one..





Seriously, nothing could be cooler that having trivia eventually lead to a hot woman with a sexy foreign accent. Probably what is even sexier is that she actually knows the history of the camelopard, rather than a far-fetched theory, which puts her one up on the rich, stupid people....I mean Greeks. See I learned more trivia. I also learned that David Mitchell has some other funny stuff and even better, he has an iPad/iPhone app for his rants. See, now I even squeezed some tech in there.

So, if you bothered to read this all the way through, you are probably not as dumb as when you came and if you keep it up I won't have to kick you off after those 1000 readers pile up.

There is also a good chance you are watching those other Hot For Words videos and have a woody.

The Gifts That Keep On Taking

Gift-giving originally started out, I'm assuming (what, I'm a researcher?), not as show of warmth, but as a bribe to the gods for better crops, health, or to win the lottery. I mean, what was around to give as gifts? Rocks?

Ogg: Here, I got you rock.

Moog: I got rock.

Ogg: Now you got spare rock.

Moog: I have pile of rocks in back.

Ogg: Oh.

Leaving cartoon caveman behind and looking at recent history, people find a lot of excuses to give people gifts. Anniversaries, birthdays, and Christmas are examples of just a few of the "frivolous" class of gift-giving. In the case of baby showers, weddings, and house-warmings; the object is to get some free stuff because something had just cost you a shitload of money and you can't afford diapers, food, or really ugly pottery.

Now most of these occasions are genuinely altruistic, but I have noticed a growing trend that I find unsettling. People now give gifts, but rather than just giving you the item for your own pleasure, they attach some kind of requirement or prerequisite that you must agree to before getting your gift.

Recently, I was given a gift by President Wishnack, which I thought he had done out of the goodness of his heart...I should have known better. He gave me iPhone shaped notebooks.

At least it wasn't ticking....THIS time!

Now at first glance this seemed to be a thoughtful gift, recognizing my love of Apple's "i"Products, but looking deeper into the subtext it became obvious that this was a gift born of MALICE and GREED. First, he is aware that I had suffered my second iPhone robbery very recently, so he gives me three iPhone-shaped notebooks to mock my misfortune. Then there is the PS: which clearly implies that the gift was given with the express purpose that I post more blog posts for his enjoyment. Not to help me, but to take his mind off his dreary, mind-numbing phone job. This is but one example of a gift given with a condition attached, thus revealing himself as my arch-nemesis, which I had always suspected.

Next, I was recently given a pre-housewarming present by a couple of friends who had been teasing me for weeks that they had gotten me the "perfect gift", raising my expectations to a crescendo. What they got was indeed very cool...but it had a price!

For the foodie geek in your life.

Knowing I was a Star Wars fan, I was presented with Star Wars themed cookie cutters and pancake molds, but with the stipulation that I had to make cookies and pancakes for the gift-givers. Wait, whose gift is this anyway‽ By the way, as much as I like the villains in Star Wars, why is Yoda the only good guy included? R2-D2 or C-3PO would make fine cookies, and I'd personally think a Han Solo frozen in carbonite pancake would be delicious with some carbonite colored syrup. So one of these weekends I have to go get pancake and cookie mix to appease my "benefactors", who will probably insist upon having bacon or sausage as well. Suddenly I am burdened with cooking a meal and dessert. It seems people are so desperate to get something themselves, they have to attach an automatic return gift with their show of good will.

It is not as though this is anything new, really. Many people who run in much more influential social circles than I will play the game of 'I'll get you something, but you have to get me something too'. This also generally involves out-gifting other present buyers to gain higher favor or recognition. At that level, giving gifts is more of a competition. I also once had a girlfriend who appeared to be of a generous nature, willing to spend quite a lot of money on presents for me...only to turn around and insist that I spend an equal or greater amount on presents for her. Nevermind that she made 3 times my measly income at the time. I didn't mind buying gifts, but it was the standard I was expected to live up to that bothered me. It wouldn't matter what the effort or originality of the gift was, it was the the net worth she was concerned with. Oh, and generally I had to pick from a pre-made list. Needless to say, it took the fun out of making lists for Christmas, as well as shopping and getting presents. I'd have preferred she just spent her money on herself and save me the trauma of shopping at Christmas.

I wonder sometimes if the spirit of gift-giving is completely lost, or if I have just become jaded. I think once it becomes something expected or required, due to a holiday for example, the act looses its luster. Of late I have taken the opinion that gifts should not be churned out, but spontaneous. If I happen to see something I think someone will like, why should I have to store it in my closet and take up space until Christmas comes up. Why should I be forced to find a lame gift for someone because it is their birthday? It just ends up that I can't think of anything appropriate, so I just get a funny book or t-shirt. I think we should ban predetermined gift-buying holidays and just be spontaneous about it. We may get less stuff, but I think we'd actually find out who really cared enough to pay attention and get more meaningful items.

And then I also wouldn't have to cook.

Pizza Cheese

Has it ever occurred to anyone that pizza cheese is one of the few things that can look all stringy and gooey, and still look appetizing?

I was pretty shocked that pizza cheese has its own Wikipedia page, but even more so to find it said this...

"Pizza cheese may also be a snack cheese of dubious quality..."

This slice is just waiting to burn the roof of your mouth.

Yeah, sorry, that all I could come up with on "pizza cheese".

Sober Poop Moment - Number 1

Alternate title: When did it get so complicated‽

I know what most of you are thinking. I have the word "poop" and "number 1" in the title, and someone will invariably make a comment about which is it, number 1 or number 2? And it will happen on the second post as well for obvious reasons. Hopefully most of you will be mature enough not to go there, but then who am I kidding.

Know your audience.

Normally I would leave the feces-related reporting to more experienced individuals, but this is all-out war!

So, if you happen to follow my blog, you'll know that I moved recently. Until now, I have not yet had a chance to exploit this for the blog. I've never lived in a particularly fancy place. I have my standards, but as long as I have a frig, stove, working toilet and shower I'm pretty much set. My new place, in contrast, is in a fairly new building and one of the reasons I moved was to gain some "luxury" amenities. Definitely one deciding factor was the dishwasher. This is not only an awesome timesaver, but probably will help me prevent health-code violations. Also, there is no door on my new kitchen to hide the stacks of dirty dishes.

There have been many wonders in my new apartment, but none more confusing than what I found in the bathroom. Now, I've been to many bathrooms, so it's not like I'm a water-closet newbie or anything. I've even used a urinal in the Vatican.

I guess you're expected to kneel when you use it.

However, when I got to my new toilet, I was greeted by what was to me, an unusual sight. Rather than the typical flush handle that one would expect, there were instead two buttons! Now at this point I was feeling a bit like Sylvester Stallone in Demolition Man when he is in the future trying to figure out how the three seashells work.

I would have gotten a better picture, but the buttons are right under a shelf. Brilliant planning.

Apparently, the buttons are supposed to help you conserve water. The button on the left with the half-filled circle is supposed to flush half as much water as the button on the right. Nevermind that I have to memorize which button is which because I have to stick my hand underneath a shelf to press them. Now if it's one thing I appreciate about going to the bathroom is that it is relatively simple. Your body pretty much knows what to do and does it. The disposal of those bodily functions should be equally simple. Now, with this system, each time I go to the bathroom I need to stop and make a decision...do I need a half flush or a full flush for this particular visit? I have to make decisions and struggle with issues all day, now you are going to complicate my bathroom experiences? My solution, and the irony, is that I pretty much pick the buttons at random and probably use the same amount of water either way. Seems like if I push the 'half' button, I have to press it a second time anyway, so why complicate my life with flush choices‽ Now if one button flushed with red water and the other blue, THEN they might have something. Make flushing fun and colorful. I could choose my flush based on my mood. Was it a good bowel movement? Ok, blue then. For those constipated visits, red....although that could have repercussions I won't go into here.

So in the end (heh, had to GO there) lets keep the bathroom simple eh? Although a butt-massage option might be nice.

Experiments In Duplication

(In some circles, this might be referred to as plagiarism, but those circles are jerks)


to the fella' in india who found this blog by googling "synonym and palindrome for ship detection device," i'm sorry to have let you down with my whiskey-infused poop lectures and complaints about financial corporations and umbrellas.

i'm sure that's not what you were looking for.

but if you're still reading, the answer is RADAR.

you're welcome.

for everyone else, check out the billboard liberation front's improved version of the mcdonald's advertisement.

i'm sick of it. as seen at cala foods on california and hyde.

wellp, with that said, it's time to drink whiskey and poop. (poop is a verb in this sentence, not a noun.)

kbye.


If it helps justify any of this, I DID see the sign first-hand WITH the guy who took the picture and wrote about it, AND we discussed it (sortof). Also, he bought me at least two of the beers I drank last night which I think contributed to me forgetting two other great blog post ideas that I had on the way home from bar-hopping. So there!

Raiders of the Lost Boba Fett

I have finally completed the move into the new apartment, and the horrifying experience has left me with many tales to tell...mostly ones where I am ready to strangle someone. Here, on the other hand, is a tale of rediscovery!

The one thing I can say about moving is that it gives you the opportunity to look through boxes and closets that had been undisturbed for months, if not years. As a result, it gives you a chance to play archaeologist with your belongings. I was fine without Nazis storming my bedroom to stop me from finding that t-shirt I thought I'd lost, but I wouldn't have minded finding an attractive, young woman tied up in my closet....ahem, but we'll get my fetishes at another time. The process of finding a long-lost tchotchke, or even something you had forgotten you even had, can make moving a little more bearable...until until you have to figure out where you are going to put it.

(how many of you knew "tchotchke" began with a "t"? Come-on, be honest.)

Almost everyone has too much of something. For some it's little, ceramic Scotty dogs; or books by French poets that they can't even read; or hatred of the Proletariat...but for me, it tends to be Star Wars figures, robots, and stuff made by Apple. I probably have more Star Wars toys than most kids, but then I HAVE been collecting since 1977. Most are in storage, but a number of favorites grace my desk and shelves at home. One of my favorites has always been Boba Fett. I mean, who doesn't love a mysterious guy in full body armor who doesn't take shit from Darth Vader. In fact, Boba Fett originally had a smaller part as a generic bounty hunter, but he was so popular, the character was given a bigger role. One day, while playing...I mean, adjusting my Jango Fett figure, it dawned on me that the Boba Fett figure that usually had a prominent place on my desk was GONE!!! -GASP!- -HORRORS!- I spent quite a bit of time looking for him with no luck. I was convinced Jango had dispatched him to gain the #1 spot on my desk...which he did. As a result, the search for Boba was made a top priority!

Yes, my priorities are a bit messed up.

Months went by, and I finally began to let go and assumed Boba had been carried away by a ninja pigeon or something. Life went on and I cluttered my desk with other items like bills and stuff I would "look at later".

Flash forward to this weekend as I stacked the last of the boxes from my old apartment into my new one, approximating the home of one of those people from that Hoarders tv show. Like most people, I expected to pack neatly and orderly, with proper labels on the boxes indicating contents. That probably happened for the first box but the rest involved shoveling items into boxes, bags, or suitcases. At the end, I was left with an apartment of boxes with unidentifiable contents, and the search began for those vital items that I need from day to day...like my PS3 controller, a bottle opener, and my iPhone charge cable. This scattershot search technique led me to many remarkable discoveries, but none so profound as the revelation that Boba Fett WAS NOT LOST!

"What?! I went out for some chicken & waffles. How long do you THINK that takes when you are 3 inches tall?!"

I also discovered that I had a Mace Windu figure I forgot I even had. Sorry SLJ! I expect to have many other fanciful discoveries in the next few weeks, some of which will be ushered by "top men" to a warehouse referred to as "Goodwill" or eBay, so I won't break my toe when walking from my bedroom to my living room. (picture withheld because, trust me, it looked bad and nobody wants to see my feet)