It's a great big beautiful tomorrow all right!

In 1964 my family went to the New York World's Fair. Yes, I'm that old, stop your snickering and I will NOT stomach any old-fart jokes, I'm just not in the mood. Anyway, at the World's Fair there was an exhibit sponsored by GE called something stupid and early 60's like "Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow" or something (because I can to this day still sing the theme song) and showed all the gadgets that will be invented in the future to make life easier, you know, things like built in dishwashers, bagel toasters, flying cars and robot maids. The product that this post is about was definitely not one of those fantastically futuristic products to look forward.

Because I am a real sweetie and evidently gullible I purchased a fabulous automatic egg cooker for the Roommate because who doesn't love hard boiled eggs, and not just at Easter! The handy user guide boasted gushingly about how versatile this amazing product is, evidently because it cooks not only hard boiled eggs, but soft and medium boiled as well! Made it sound like this gadget was so useful you practically needed one for each room in your home!!! So advanced that all you had to do fill the water resouviour with the correct amount of water for the style of egg you wanted, insert the egg tray, place the eggs in the tray, poke a small hole in the top of the egg (to keep them from EXPLODING!!!!), plug into any outlet and turn the machine ON! No dial to set, no thought process to go through, just PLUG IT IN. Yes it's that simple. So the other night, after a rousing night of drinking wine, the Roommate and I followed the instructions, plugged in the time-saving device and promptly went to bed. What we failed to notice in the instruction booklet was that this handy devices, while on the one hand will let you know when your eggs are done, on the other hand it will not turn the fucking machine off. I woke up at 6 am to a god-awful buzz letting me know that our petrified eggs were ready to be eaten. Or thrown at an intruder to render them senseless. Or just point at and laugh but most likely thrown away. I really wish I had cracked one open and cut it in half with a jackhammer to see what a "6 hour egg" looks like on the inside but that would probably not smell too pretty.

So rush right out to your neighborhood Target and pick up one of these little kitchen miracles, or better yet, go online since they are on sale there (save $3! until you pay the shipping). In fact while you're there you might want to get one of these, these or maybe even one of these because frankly, how have you survived this long without any one of these great products? And seriously, you can never have enough fresh soy milk.

Plus Mother's Day is coming up and you know how much Mom loves a time-saving, piece-of-shit gadget that could quite possibly set the house on fire!

Smells like middle-aged spirit.

There's something in the air, a mood change or something, hard to identify, so I am having a hard time putting my finger on it. I'd like to say it's "optimism" but I've kind of been not on speaking terms with that concept for the last 10 months, so I'm not for sure that's even what I'm smelling (sidebar: we do have a litter box in the house but I don't think that's what I smell). Optimism with a side of "happy" but let's not stick our necks out and super-sized just yet. I also sense "jinx" and the possibility of a "potential let down" so I'm going to leave you hanging with that. You'll be the first to know but until I am certain of this new mode for myself, mum's the word.

Leigh came over last night and we watched The Science of Sleep, and what can I say but "odd" and "highly interesting". The use of multiple languages made it hard to take the lazy/drunken/ignorant approach to viewing since it caused a false sense of security that I would be able to follow the plot while only half paying attention (the other half consisting of drinking copious amounts of red wine). And I must say Natalie Portman is a very lucky girl, indeed, since Gael Garcia Bernal has incredibly large hands in one part of the movie, and you know what they say about the "hand-size/ehhhemmm ratio" equation…….

So overall it was a good movie, two incredibly large thumbs up, and a special thank you shout out to Rufus for rendering it unnecessary for me to have to pre-rinse the pate bowl before loading it in the dishwasher. Mommy's Little Angel is always willing to help out at clean up time, bless his heart. Sometimes pre-maturely as I wasn't really finished with it yet, but your good intentions are taken into consideration, Booboo.

Oh, and wish me luck and fingers crossed on the thing I must not yet speak of.

Larry Bud Melman...RIP

I have no idea how I missed the story of Larry Bud's passing until today, but I believe all flags should be flown at half mast for at least a year.

Gotta love a learning curve.

Things I have learned today:

Before

After

"After" is better than "before". (This is a no brainer, even Rufus puts in his vote.)

Mayonnaise is not a substitute for coffee creamer, not even in a pinch. ("White" and "creamy" do not trandsend some borders. Insert crass joke here.) This mistake could seriously put a damper on your morning.

Another thing that will put a damper on your morning is to spill a cup of coffee (sans mayo) on your cell phone, digital camera, calculator, camera memory card and laptop. (I swear to god it seems like Monday not Friday).

The sun can actually come out three days in a row in Oregon in March. But three is probably stretching it (I feel relatively confident in this last statement as I just checked the forecast and we've got a 90% chance of rain tomorrow.)

Rufus is a good dog, especially when he's not being bad. (Which isn't that often.)

Too many bloggers are slipping into the "hiatus" sand trap. (I don't want to be the last one standing so maybe I should quit, too.)

Escapism artist

Not much going on except for the Roommate's newfound preoccupation with "completing projects" which require me to help. We spent the hours between 9 pm and midnight last night cleaning out closets and getting rid of clothes. With a bottle of wine. Amazing how much you realize you really don't like items of clothing when a little on the tipsy side.

Yesterday I briefly listened to a talk program on NPR concerning homosexuality in modern day. The panel contained a guy with some religious affiliation that I didn't catch and an openly gay man whom I was unable to discern his association. The reason I don't have any more specifics is that I came in on the program after it was well into the discussion and didn't listen to the entire program as I was running errands---in and out of the car---so my run-down of the discussion is less than complete, although there were a few points made that I found interesting. First off the religious guy seemed OK with gay people but still saw being homosexual on a par with infidelity, kind of bad but not bad. Opinionated but in a very "grey area" sort of way so I am assuming there are degrees of bad. The subject of the bible's view of homosexuality being wrong was explained by the gay panelist as not necessarily being an incorrect opinion so to speak but more to the point of being an outdated concept. He explained that the early stance was the whole necessity of Christians procreating to swell the population of followers. Now that there is no urgency in building the flock there was no reason to be concerned with the bible's negative stance on homosexuality. The two panelist kind of disagreed but in a kind of polite, agreeable sort of way. No sarcasm, no yelling, no bible quotes. It was a---again---polite discussion (it was NPR after all) and highly interesting. Too bad the masses can't agree to disagree in the same civilized manner; it's so black and white in modern America: if you are gay you are sinner and if you believe that you are backwards.

There was one really stupid point made though. Although the gay man stated that if two people were in love, committed, of legal age and consensual what they did privately should be no one's business. The religious-affiliation man disagreed with the legal validity of gay marriage because as he explained, if two lesbians were allowed to marry, what was to stop THREE lesbians from marrying down the road. Just ridiculous, that's like saying if you let two men marry then the next step is a man legally marrying a cow. That logic escapes me. And kind of makes me belly laugh.

I have to run. I need to fix the fence because Rufus just jumped over it to get into the neighbor's yard. Seems he and the neighbor are planning to run off and get married and I'm totally against that.

Straight from the headlines....

Anna Nicole Judge Cited for Pot in ParkMar 20, 7:10 AM EST

The Associated Press
HOLLYWOOD, Fla. -- A judge who had a secondary role in the recent Anna Nicole Smith proceedings was charged with smoking marijuana in a city park, police said Monday.
Lawrence Korda was smoking marijuana while sitting under a tree Sunday, police said. Three officers who were training there saw Korda and field-tested the cigarette, meaning taking a few drags each, said Capt. Tony Rode, a police spokesman who also added "Man, I'm stoned!".

The judge was not arrested but was given a misdemeanor citation to appear in court.
"Judge Korda was not given special treatment because of his status as a circuit court judge," Rode said. "He was given special treatment because he is involved with a celebrity court case. That's exactly what 99 percent of other celebrity-related offenders would have been given for this type of offense."

Read the actual story here.

Fun fun weekend....

....but I just don't have the energy to post. Maybe tomorrow. It's tough to post when you were in a wine bottle all weekend.

See ya!

I'm off to Seattle early tomorrow morning (fucking 6 am) for my review so I may not post on Thursday. If my review goes really bad (especially after the three hour commute) you will surely see something from me tomorrow, something seething to be sure. But knowing what I know it should be all good*.

Happy Thursday, think well of me and send good thoughts while I'm drinking with Rusty and Sarahbeth! Say a prayer for me since I have a 2:00 customer appointment in Portland! (Especially that prayer to St Anthony [the patron saint of lost items] or St Jude [patron saint of lost causes---which come to think of it probably applies here all around] pray pray pray).


*Famous last words.

Madam Suz, the Magnificent predicts the future!

I predict…

…that the Bush administration will prove to be the most corrupt period in history as all things associated with this president reek of a total disregard of the constitution and bill of rights. His tenure will make the Nixon administration look like a good natured troop of Eagle Scouts.

…that global warming is a fact and the longer we keep our head in the sand about it, the worse off we'll be as a species. I'm sweating just thinking about it.

…I will die a born-again spinster.

…that my ball of fuzz-engulfed manic energy will reach mellow-good-dog-hood right around the time he hits his 14th birthday. I thought he was over his money eating phase but that demolished dollar bill last night proves that thought wrong. The only currency allowed in the house should be coins. Not even charge cards are safe.

…this guy has a special place in hell just waiting for him; he is promoting hate in the armed services and should be relieved of his duties. Pace should either not be in the position of power he is in or he should not be able to talk to the press. Or the public. Or the troops. I wonder how those "not asking and not telling" who serve under him (snicker snicker, double meaning) feel about dying in Iraq.

…that I will get a little tipsy in Seattle with Sarahbeth and Rusty tomorrow night.

…that one day soon we will be thinking back to the good ol' days when gas was only $3 a gallon.

…Britney Spears will continue to baffle and entertain us with her follies no matter how many times she checks into rehab. I know she hasn't been in the news lately but I just want her to know she's still on our minds.

Another Rant, just because I care.

Evidently I missed a memo somewhere along the line because obviously it's "show off your unfortunate tattoo day" at my gym. I'm not talking about the random "tram stamp" one will ultimately regret once the wearer is no longer getting tapped by it's namesake, I'm talking much, much more likely to end up in the "what was I thinking and shouldn't it have occurred to me that this just might just become a huge mistake one of those many hours I sat in that chair getting my ink?" There was the not so young woman who had those dancing southwest art figures parading around her bicep and another guy had a run away chest tattoo that couldn't be contained by a mere shoulder and even made a mad dash all the way up to his cheekbone. To that lovely I wanted to comment "well, it appears you have successfully fucked yourself out of any white collar position" but I don't think scaling the corporate ladder was his cup of tea to begin with. And it's not that I have anything against tattoos, I myself have one----got it way before the fad, in the late 1980's----but I keep it under cover at work which is pretty easy since it's on my right ass cheek and I almost always wear clothes to the office.

Another memo I evidently missed was "show your proud over-grown bush day" but I don't really want to go there. Literally.

There's gonna be a wedding and everyone's the bride!

Saturday night we had a pub crawl, only all the guys in the group bailed so it was just a gaggle of women. Diane had come up with this idea that we do a bachelorette party where everyone gets to be the bride at different bars so we adopted this theme for our girl's night out. We are all in our thirties and forties, so who knows if we'll ever be a bachelorette, or in a few of our cases, be a bachelorette again.

I was the lucky bride at the first bar. When we walked in the bartender asked if we were a bachelorette party and of course everyone said yes. My wedding story was that I was marrying a gay man from Canada so he could get his green card and this is what we told the bartender. Someone added that it was my third marriage so it was ok. Flaming Dr Peppers, jello shots and pudding shots (I wondered when this idea would catch on) were ordered all around.

Leigh was the bride at the second bar, where we were given sommeone's reserved table since we were a bachelorette party and all. Leigh's story was that she was marrying a midget.

Toilet paper veil courtesy of Erin. She should seriously open a side business. It was halarious because people kept stopping by our table giving Leigh their congratualtions.

Tammy was our third bride. We were so toasted that by this point that we didn't even give her a story about her husband.

Looks like everyone was having a good time!

I certainly hope all these photos upload correctly. There's that damn box with an X in it where some of the photos should be. Ruining my good time.

So our bachelorette party was a huge success. So much so that Daina stole some chick's pink wig, bolted out of the bar and ran down the street with it on her head. We got a guy to give us all a ride to retrieve her and drop us at Diane's house where I woke up on the couch the next morning.

Good times, good times.

Gimme some of dem grits over 'dere.

I had grits this morning. I loves me some grits and that along with even knowing what they are is a pretty good sign that I was raised in the south. Deep south that is, since the Roommate was born in Kentucky and us Louisianians consider that damn near Yankee country. Grits with butter, grits with cheese, grits with just salt and pepper, I love them all.

Up until recently I was embarrassed to admit I was from Louisiana, in spite of the Cajun cuisine craze and sympathy for Katrina victims. There has always been a link to being an inbred moron etched in my mind with anything associated with the states that border the Gulf of Mexico (except Florida, I excuse you from my group bash) and I have always avoided mentioning where I spent my formative years for fear of being snickered at. After all, Louisiana gave us David Duke, Edwin Edwards and Britney Spears, each and every one reason to be embarrassed for the state I lived in the longest. But in recent years I have grown to embrace my southern heritage for some reason, maybe it's maturity, maybe it's because I know I got a lot of character from growing up there, maybe it's because I realize morons are everywhere and just not restricted to the state shaped like a boot. Yeah, it's probably the latter because dufuses are everywhere. But now I realize that being from the Pelican State has given me a lot of character and I do make some badass Jambalaya. And besides, Texas is more embarrassing since that's where our mental giant of a crooked President came from. Wake me up when he's impeached.

So where do y'all hail from? What location made all y'alls who you are today?

Prais Jesus!

I watched "Jesus Camp", a documentary about children being indoctrinated into Evangelical Christianity last night and found it very interesting. I really should use the word emotionally blackmailed into Christianity instead of "indoctrination" because their tactics are kind of harsh. The leaders of Jesus camp pretty much make the kids feel that if Jesus isn't talking directly to them, well, then they must be doing something wrong because just look around you. Jesus is talking to all the other kids. "I must not be trying hard enough" or "I guess God doesn't love me enough yet" seems to be plastered on their poor little faces.

I could say the kids are being brainwashed because their pat answers and preachings are memorized drivel. When the kids are presented with a subject they haven't been coached on they certainly falter as they appear to have no original thoughts to process or reasoning to use as a back up to form an opinion. They stumble until they can wrangle the question on to familiar territory. The pro life segment is particularly painful to watch; if memory serves the photo shown here was taken from that little segment.

The interesting thing about the film is that it isn't a slam on the Christians, their beliefs or tactics. It's a pretty straight-forward documentary, not biased either way. I am willing to bet that any Evangelical Christian watching it would be pleased with the end product (with the possible exception of Rev. Haggard's crank-induced preaching/gay bashing. But come to think of it, probably not). Funny how two completely different opinions can be obtained from the same film. The chasm between the believers and those of us who are heathens certainly is evident when watching the Christies wrestle with subjects ranging from abortion, home schooling (75% of home schooled children are Evangelical), George Bush all the way to homosexuality. I pity the poor kids in the audience who will have to confront their own homosexuality in a few years after the exposure to this set of beliefs.

Random thoughts

Another one of those math problems from an actual test turned in by some student in Louisiana. This genius must have really flown through the exercise.

I have been able to keep off the few pounds I managed to lose while suffering from my illness but I have also noticed that I have had little energy and have been going to bed around 9:30 most nights. I think I'm not eating enough, possibly. Or I could just be lazy. Or old.

A couple good days of weather and I'm surprised when the rain comes back and the temperatures drop. You'd think by now----my 9th winter here---that I would come to grips with warm, sunny weather not realling being here for summer until July. Some people never learn.

I'm puzzled with what to make of sex offenders like this one, or rather what to do with them. We put them in prison when convicted with somewhat lesser crimes and am then surprised when they get out and continue to be sex offenders and add in additional skills, like kidnapping and murder. Evidently there's no cure so should we always lock them up and throw away the key? I'd hate to be the person(s) who paroled him on his earlier charges.

To this I say "who gives a flying fuck?"....and I will continue to do so. Game over, go home---once you are let out of rehab that is.

And headlines read: Duh!

Juno shut down because of snow. Alaska? Snow? Who'd have seen that coming. Duh.

Seals in the rivers of Oregon eating endangered salmon. Salmon is yummy and seals are….well, seals and probably hungry. Seals don't do drive-thru. Duh.

Bush cutting infant's Federally funded health care if parents aren't citizens. But if the babies are born in America they are citizens. And if they're citizens, when they grow up they can be sent off to fight in Iraq, which I'm sure will still be dragging on in 18 years. So if they die as infants because they don't get the proper medical care, then they can't fight and die in Iraq. Bush needs to re-think that one. Or come up with an exit strategy. Duh.

UPDATE:
Headline: Jury convicts Libby on four of five charges. And to that I give one last huge DUH!

***********************************

Here's another test question and answer brought to us by the good folks of some school board in Louisiana, just like yesterday's.

Enjoy. I love the teacher's comment. (click on the image for a better view)

Rufus is coming to Seattle!

This Rufus....

......not this Rufus.....
.....will be in Seattle for two shows, Sunday April 22nd and Monday the 23rd. Since I have tickets to see David Sedaris in Portland on the 22nd I tried to get tickets to the Monday show but it's sold out! In fact both shows are sold out. Bummer, dude! I need to be at that Monday show, MUST BE at it. I placed a "tickets wanted" ad in both the Seattle and Portland Craig's list but haven't hard a peep yet. I have a feeling I am to be bummed. If you know of anyone who will part with their tickets I need 4, so please let me know by leaving me a comment.

Thanks tons.

And now, I received this along with a few other examples from my sister. They are all actual questions and answers pulled from student exams and all originate from the very lofty and prestigous Louisiana school system, so I got an even bigger kick out of them. The one below was my favorite. Man, haven't we all been there before. Click on the shot for a better view.

Remember, keep me in mind for those Rufus tickets, don't make me draw the last step of that equation.

And finally, I am feeling the need to be creative so I'm starting up my PaD (photo a day) Pbase site again. The shot of Rufus is today's post.
Hopefully I can regain the enthusiasm and post at least 3 or 4 times a week.

Happy Monday!

"I like mass murder with a nice Chianti"

It seems Blogger thinks I have a big fucking mouth because it's not letting me post any comments, not as my "old blogger" login or as my "not beta" login, sometimes not even anonymously, either. Commie-pinko Blogger is censoring me!! So if any of you who read me are wondering why you are being deprived of my witty, insightful comments blame it on Blogger, I am trying but it's an uphill battle. I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!

Tonight the Roommate and I are going to a movie at Cinetopia where they have fine dining and a full bar, so we can buy a bottle of wine and watch the movie. I told the Roommate that today I am looking forward to my 2 favorite things together this evening, wine and mass murder, as we are going to see Zodiac (photo above). The Roommate responded that those are also the two things I think about most at work as well. Which is also true.

Not a whole lot else going on. Have an above average weekend.

Shoo flu, don't bother me!

Finally! Today I feel human! Sorry I hadn't posted the last two days but I was besieged at work and had a sinus headache from hell the last two days. Finally, I can move my head a millimeter without blinding pain. I see a light at the end of the tunnel---of the flu, anyway.

I had the most clever idea for a post while sitting in a training session today (IP-VPN anyone?) but along with the drowsy feeling of sitting in a darkened room with a steaming cup of tea, the idea has also vanished. I guess this is a sign of the aging process getting a leg up and I'd be the last to argue that one. The one truth in this world is that no one is getting younger, and that means you too, Joan Rivers. Damn, and if memory serves, the post kind of wrote itself. Miss Lazy just can't get a break.

I don't have anything else for ya, so enjoy the photo of Rusty (one of my biggest fans) and have a decent evening.