Sophie's Choice (times infinity)

[Know going in that this is going to be kinda gross.  No hard feelings if you quit reading now.]


Because of difficulty walking I often play the game of "wait as long as humanly possible before trekking down to the bathroom to pee."  The added bonus of this game is that by the time there is no other choice - YOU HAVE TO GO - you have to go so badly that one misstep and it's all over. Luckily, there's nothing inherently dangerous about walking down the hallway, unless the fact that each step is so painfully jarring that it might make you temporarily quit squeezing, thereby increasing the odds you'll drop your payload before you hit the target....anyway, you can see the attraction, the danger, the romance.

But this morning I upped the odds considerably in my quest to face down death.  (Bear Grylls is a punk bitch and you can tell him I said so.) I had to pee, but I was really tired, and I fell asleep. This was a bad bad move on my part.  Normally I can go to sleep not having to pee at all, wake up two hours later like I have Alien inside my bladder. I mean, IT WANTS TO GET OUT.  But falling asleep when you already have to pee moderately badly, that just spells disaster for waking.

On top of all that - and I don't know any other way to say this, so I apologize in advance - there was plenty of thunder rumbling, announcing a storm, if you will.  Put another way - the enemy was attacking from two different fronts. (Or backs, as the case may be.)

I awoke with a start, a sense of urgency not unlike a 45-year old career woman desperate to have a kid.  Things were moving, and they were moving right soon.  Normally it takes me a few minutes to even sit up and then negotiate the Hell that is walking 15 feet, but desperate times calls for kamikaze action.

Being bombarded by multiple targets made walking even more of a tight-rope act than normal.  While there are some muscles in common down there, there's a power vacuum as well.  Tightening up one potential leak, if you will, increases the danger to the other trouble spot.  Apropos of nothing, I couldn't help but recall a recent episode of The League that dealt with the shadowy world of anal kegels.  Laugh if you will, but it would not be an unwelcome change to see this particular exercise added to the glut of gym membership commercials we're bound to see next month, a post-holiday tradition every bit as magical as the swans returning to Capistrano, and the start of the Christmas season in retail stores, just as soon as they can get the patriotic bunting taken down from July 4th celebrations.

(The other day I heard Christmas music on the radio. Christmas 2011 music. They are now lapping themselves.  What would Kafka say? What would Locke say? What would Hobbes say? (The Philosopher AND the tiger?))

Back to my Bataan Death March....

Through impossible odds and constant threat of ruinous....uh....'splosion, I made it to the bathroom.  Here is where I encountered my next impossible hurdle.  My sister had a guest stop by last night, who I am sure is a perfectly fine nice girl and I have nothing bad to say about her. Heck, I never even saw her.

But Hyperion has a strange thing about germs.  Yes, if you saw my room (or my penchant for re-using dishes over and over again - I'M SAVING THE ENVIRONMENT!!!) - you might argue it is an inconsistent position, but nonetheless there are certain matters where I turn downright Adrian Monkish.

I don't like people putting their hands inside the bag of chips - just pour out what you want! I don't like people (read: my mother) putting crumbs or other effluvia on my plate even after I'm done eating - because I always like the option of eating more.  And, for whatever reason, I am very squeamish about sitting on a throne very recently occupied.  Everything about it creeps me out. (Like when you sit down and the seat is still warm? Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.)

So, here I am, middle of the night, Enemy at both gates, and I am desperately spraying the toilet seat with....(wait for it)....Glass Cleaner.

In my defense, I didn't see the G or the L.

Why Windex?  Because that's what was sitting there. Look, I fully admit my germ phobia is irrational, but something about the vinegary-ness of the cleaner makes me feel safe from crotch cooties. Don't Judge me.

As I'm spraying and furiously wiping, I have failed to notice that I am now almost bent double, in an inexorably losing battle to keep the bridge dyked, the highway closed.  I then encountered the truly unimaginable dilemma alluded to back in the title.

I was wearing these hideous green track pants, the kind made of that whsk whsk windbreaker material.

(Not actual pants. My feet are 3x that size)

The problem is that they are a tad complicated to "move to safety," and in my limbo-esque state I now realized that I was out of options. The time it would take to yank the suckers down was all I (hopefully) had - I could not hold both gates any more.  This was only a split-second of realization, but the knowledge was as sure as anything I have ever known.

One. Or the other.

You can't save both.

A lesser man would have crumbled under such circumstances, given in to the inevitable, and succumbed to his fate. But as many a woman (and the good textile merchants at KingSizeDirect) will tell you, I am not a lesser man.

Doing split-second calculus that would make Einstein weep, I took stock of my situation. If truly only one gate could be defended, it came down to which enemy would cause greater carnage. I realized that when this whole sad sordid affair was over I may be truly pissed off, but that doesn't mean I didn't give a shit.

As I prepared to make my sacrifice (I cannot tell you how nanosecond by nanosecond this whole time frame was, thus adding to my heroism), I realized that the complicated maneuver of track pants disengagement and sitting position need not be the end of the story.

Why?  FOR I AM HYPERION. I AM MALE, AND WE HAVE OPTIONS, BABY!

Casting my lot with retentive personalities everywhere, I yanked down the track pants while concomitantly ordering my nethers to move maximum defenses to the rear shields.  I had no time to "aim," but I was ever hopeful that, much like a faithful family horse in the Old West  - the beast knew how to get home better than I did.

(At this moment let me pause my tale for a moment to say that the amount of hydro-electric power generated by Holland's famous windmills PALES in comparison to certain other forces I could name.)

Success!  More or less.  I was able to save the day, and after peeing so hard I'm fairly certain I cracked the porcelain I was able to seamlessly make the position switch with ballet-like grace.

As for our 1878 house and its antique plumbing....now that's another story.

Cam Newton is the best player in College Football, but should not win the Heisman

Not that I have a vote, or anyone cares what I think, but I have changed my mind in the last 24 hours about Cam Newton winning the Heisman. 

I'm on record that the NCAA is full of hypocrisy; everyone makes money on the back of these kids but them. I don't blame them one iota for taking money that's offered, etc. (Should greedy families do it on their behalf? Different story, but we'll let that go for another day.)

Here is my issue: 

I watched the Cam Newton interview with Chris Fowler several times. (Watch it here.) He was clearly coached, and I don't mean from Gene Chizik - Public Relations team, lawyers, people like that. 

Oddly, I don't have that hard a time with Cam's assertion that he never asked his dad if he did it. From all indications his dad made the decision to go to Auburn, not Cam. We all know his dad asked for the money, and whether Cam knew about it or not, I can see in some families where you wouldn't question your father. 

But that brings up the issue. Reports were that after the decision was made to switch from Miss. State to Auburn Cam called up a recruiter crying saying basically, "They money was just too much [at Auburn.]  Fowler asked newton about this. (It's about 1:23 into the video).  

Quoting from the Article: 

ESPN reported Nov. 9 that Newton had told a Mississippi State recruiter that his father had chosen Auburn because "the money was too much."

"I'm not here to talk about any reports," Newton said.

That's what sticks in my craw. We've all been here before, whether it was Mark McGwire or Bill Clinton. "I'm not here to talk about any reports" translates to = they are true. 

How do I feel confident in saying this? Because the alleged conversation of Newton's is the crux of the whole matter. Any reasonable person (I think) believes Cam knew about what happened. The question is - what evidence was there?  Without any evidence of his involvement or knowledge it was difficult to suspend him based solely on what most people assume. But that conversation with the recruiter - if true - clearly shows knowledge and complicity, if by silence for no other reason. 

I contend that if that allegation was untrue Newton would have shouted it from the rooftops, now that he was speaking. No, I didn't know, he should have said. I never talked to anyone about money at Auburn. There was no money at Auburn. 

The correct play - in my mind - is to play the whole thing as a botched stupid idea that wasn't even half serious to get money at Mississippi State, which didn't go anywhere. The Newtons should be saying over and over again- no money ever changed hands, there's no real foul. That they aren't is telling. That Cam isn't refuting the report about his knowledge is telling too. 

Couple that with the Heisman Mission Statement, the first line of which reads: 

The Heisman Memorial Trophy annually recognizes the outstanding college football player whose performance best exhibits the pursuit of excellence with integrity.   

[emphasis added by me]

In his interview with Chris Fowler Cam Newton makes a double-speak statement that is virtually tantamount to lying. We can reasonably infer that the report is true, and that adds up. 

Whether or not the athletes should be paid something (as I believe) is one thing, and whether Cam and his family got any money is something else. Whether he knew about it might even be explained away with not wanting to go against his father. But lying about knowing, surely that is not integrity. 

As I write these words we are just minutes away from Newton getting the award (I presume). But in my opinion he shouldn't. He clearly was the best player this season, but doesn't deserve the Heisman. 

"I Haz" (an Epic Sick Poem)

I got to the point tonight where I knew I couldn't make it without medicine and such, but I also was at the point where there was every real possibility that I was too sick to make it to wal-greens alive. This didn't frighten me, so off I went. Wal-Greens has a drive-thru for pharmacy, and you'd have thought I asked for a TSA Screening the way they reacted when I very nicely asked if the attendant would go get me some soup. "I'm not your maid" she said.  Maid?  I was just trying to avoid walking around and dying!

Serves her right. When I got in there I was so woozy that I lay down in one of the aisles on the nice cold tile. They said they were going to call the Ambulance or police, so I got up and left.  Bastards.

But I did get the poem I think I mentioned (too tired to scan back up and see if I wrote about it). I cut out the middle verse because it made me laugh so hard that I choked on my own phlegm and anything that funny would surely piss off half the women I know...but what's left is pretty awesome, I sez.




I HAZ


I haz some Kleenex with lotion
To soothe my hurty nose
I haz some soup  to warm me
Down to my achy toes
I haz some medicine to put 
Me into peaceful slember
So Hypey goes to sleep 
Please wake me in December

Levantine

I dreamed that we were coming back home late at night and it was pouring rain and my dad stopped several blocks from our house and he pointed to a man on the side of the road whom he called the Levantine - my dad said the Levantine may have been working for a Chinese Triad, but my dad didn't sound sure - and we were just sitting there at this stop sign which was conspicuous and I mentioned this and also there were all these other guys with guns gathering and we saw them go into this house - someone else who owed money or something - i guess - so my dad turned and we went to this other part of town and we were walking down this hedgerow to sneak into this other house - but somehow it was our house - and there was this old woman and she was walking home and we were walking with her and then there was this old man too - and it was really dark and we were all bent over and I then the old man was at his house (they were all really close together) and the woman's house was the next one over and I realized I had walked past our house and I turned back and my dad had the porch light on which I remember thinking didn't make any sense and I looked down at the end of the street up on these connected rooftops and it seemed like there was someone up there taking pictures and we went inside and I mentioned this to my dad but he didn't seem concerned and he locked the door on the bottom and waited for me to lock the top but I couldn't lock the top because it was one of those deadbolts that only locks and unlocks with a key and I didn't have the key and I told him that and this concerned him very much and he came to deadbolt the door and I remember thinking that if we had to leave suddenly I literally couldn't get out that door because I didn't have the key so I went back to my room and got the key and I was going to put it on my ring but I didn't have the ring so I put the key in the little extra pocket you get on your jeans - not sure why that's important but it felt important - and then I heard someone come in the back door which was right by my bedroom and my door was cracked open and I was afraid to open it (I'm never afraid in real life any more but as a child I was afraid constantly and in dreams I still revert to that state when things scared me) I looked at the crack in the door and this guy came in and he was wearing a coat I associate in my head with bad guys (probably it isn't but I knew he was a bad guy although I didn't know if he was with the Chinese Triad or the Levantine - to be honest, I wasn't sure what a Levantine was) - and he went down the hall to the front room where my dad was and I heard him confront my dad and I remember thinking he was there to gang rape my dad which kinda didn't make sense - I was sorta coming slowly out of the dream, at the point where you can just start to think about things but not really - I mean how could one guy gang rape someone, I really wondered this, and also, how would that get them their money but I knew I had to help so I went for my hunting knife but it was in my backpack which I knew I hadn't brought in and I remember thinking I could redo the sequence and it would be there - which also happens when you're starting to wake up and you have the tiniest bit of control even though not really - but I also knew that would be cheating, which I didn't know what cheating was but somehow I knew I couldn't fight the guy with a knife I didn't have and so I grabbed this little pocket knife - also out of the backpack, but somehow that was okay; don't ask me, it's dream logic - and I started to creep down the hall and I remember thinking it was funny that I would be able to creep silently but I was and I got near the front room and heard the guy gesturing with a gun so I knew I had to kill him immediately when I entered the room or my dad would be dead and I was scared which annoyed me but I was also going to do it - I think - but then I woke up right before I could go into the room.

And the thing is - I don't know how to explain this part - but the moment I woke up I knew it had been a dream, but I also "knew" - whatever that means - that the being watched part was a memory - that part of the dream had come from real events - even though I'm fairly sure we haven't been - but i'm not sure. Maybe an hour from now this will all seem silly, but I actually am still half-asleep and going back go sleep but I wanted to write this down so I would remember it later and don't judge the bad writing because I truly am half alseep

Curb Appeal

For a variety of reasons I was/am not feeling well, but the Trash was supposed to go out this morning, and sometimes they come early, so I (heroically; there will be a parade in my honor at 1800 hours) managed to scoop up the bag from the kitchen, add the front room, and stumble out the door.

I had just come from bed, so I was wearing was my boxers, and all I grabbed was my cane. Not even shoes. (I know, I know: with a cane I should have had a top-hat.) Normally I don't go outside so un-clad, but it's O'Dark Thirty outside, so I figured a few seconds couldn't hurt.

I managed to get to the curb, leaning heavily on the cane, not even really thinking about what I wasn't wearing (more just trying not to collapse), and this woman comes jogging by, dressed for an attempt to reach the summit of K2.  Seriously: Southerners tend to fall to pieces at the first sign of wind, and it was maybe in the high 50s - certainly no need for parkas, but whatever.

She sees me, and is kind of taken aback. I nod companionably and she says, "How cold's it have to be for you to put on pants?"

I look at her and say, "I must be losing my touch.  Most women try to get my pants off, and you're trying to put them back on."

She turns about 800 shades of red (at least I think it was red; it was dark) and jogs away, and I shambled back into the house, thinking it better be one awesome parade, or else.

Me Word Good

Word I just made up - fellationship. You know you'll use it. (And when you do, think of me.)

UltraViolent Catastrophe is 3 - 0 - can Apocalypse be far behind?

I said last week I'd never been 2 - 0 before, so 3 - 0 is also a precedent.  Even the year I was a friggin Juggernaut I lost my second game on a fluke.  The first two weeks I got a tad lucky to win, this time I earned it, with 137 points, the highest score in the League for the week.  I trounced Bobby Bowden's Bastion of Bastardry but somethin' fierce.

Again, if I would have played Michael Vick I would have scored more than Tom Brady. I just can't seen benching Brady this week, but I may pull the trigger. (In week 5 I have no choice, as Brady is on bye.)

There are four Teams in my Division, and the way it works is we play each team in our division, then everyone else, then each team in our Division again.  Here's the Standings so far:

As you can see, there are only two undeafeated teams, Koz's and myself.  he texted me about it Tuesday.  Here is a portion, verbatim:

Me: We don't play each other until Week 11, so not much chance we'll be undefeated, but maybe we'll be the league's best

Koz: Hopefully. Although my team has been on a steady decline while your team has been on the rise.

Me: yeah, but i'm going into the Valley of the Shadow of ByeWeeks, so I'll come back down to Earth

Koz: Fear no evil for Vick art with thee

Cracks me up every time I read it.

This week I play the Gauchos, who are the worst team so far, but usually get up for me. I won't have Adrian Peterson (and a few others, on bye), so we'll see....

October!

So glad September is over.  This one was as brutal as any, but October has only been here a few hours and already several things going right.

More news soon

She Walks in Beauty Like the Night

In honor of She Walks in Beauty Like the Night Day, I am reprinted Lord Byron's poem

"She walks in beauty, like the night"
Lord Byron

SHE walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;  
Thus mellow'd to that tender light          
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.  
  
One shade the more, one ray the less,  
Had half impair'd the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress  
Or softly lightens o'er her face,   
Where thoughts serenely sweet express  
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.  
  
And on that cheek and o'er that brow  
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,  
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,   
But tell of days in goodness spent,—  
A mind at peace with all below,  
A heart whose love is innocent.

We're 2-0, baby!

For the first time ever for me, I started the Season 2-0, beating my arch rivals Fine Upstanding Gentlemen (The "Fuggies") over the weekend.  Here are the stats:

I don't have my back-ups on here, but it's worth noting that my back up QB (Michael Vick) would have outscored Brady by a lot.  What's weird about that is that I had this omen Sunday morning I should start Vick, even though it would have been crazy to do that.  Oh well: a win's a win.  Next weekend I take on "Bobby Bowden's Bastion of Bastardry."

There's a Long Long Trail A-Winding

I first heard this song on an episode of M*A*S*H, sung by Colonel Potter, Hawkeye and B.J. Turns out it's a World War I song, written by two classmates at Yale before the war really started (and years before Americans got involved).  I have the lyrics below, along with the music to listen to.  There is something sweet and pure about it that is so often lost in today's music.


There's a Long Long Trail A-Winding
Lyrics by Stoddard King
Music by Alonzo Elliott








Nights are getting very lonely, 
Days are very long,
I'm a-growing weary only, 
Listening for your song,
Old remembrances are thronging, 
Thro' my memory,
Till it seems, the world is full of dreams, 
Just to call you back to me.


     There's a long long trail a-winding 
     Into the land of my dreams,
     Where the nightingales are singing 
     And the white moon beams,
     There's a long long night a-waiting 
     Until my dreams all come true,
     Till the day when I'll be going down 
     That long long trail with you.


All night long I hear you calling, 
Calling sweet and low,
Seem to hear your footsteps falling, 
Ev'ry where I go,
Tho' the road between us stretches, 
Many's the weary mile,
I forget, that you're not with me yet, 
When I think I see you smile.


     There's a long long trail a-winding 
     Into the land of my dreams,
     Where the nightingales are singing 
     And the white moon beams,
     There's a long long night a-waiting 
     Until my dreams all come true,
     Till the day when I'll be going down 
     That long long trail with you.

UltraViolent Catastrophe Wins in Week 1

So, guess who won their Week 1 match up? (Don't look at the title!) That's right. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!1!!!!


The UltraViolent Catastrophe took on The Memesters Union in a tough divisional clash.  Hard fought were out warriors, but ultimately was Hyperion's squad of heroes victorious.

While I won my game all was not beer and skittles in Hyperion land.  For one thing, my two starting Wide Receivers let me down  And my vaunted Running Backs did not do much, either.  I also was rather fortuitous in who I played.  If you ran my team against the other 11 teams in the league simultaneously I would have only gone 6-5.  But, it's a win, and a win I will take.  Next weekend I take on Fine Upstanding Gentlemen (known colloquially in the league as the Fuggies), owned by my most hated rival.  Will I start the season 2-0?  Only time will tell.

My 2010 Fantasy Football Team

I'm not sure why you'd care, but in case you do, here is my Fantasy Football team information


My team is called UltraViolent Catastrophe.  (So far only one person has come close to figuring out why, but 8.9 Hypey points if you know.)

In my league you start 13 people, which I have listed below, along with my 8 Reserves.  If you like me, root for those guys to gain yards, tackles, and most of all touch downs.  If you hate me, feel free to root against them.



QuarterBack
Tom Brady                  NWE


Running Back  
Joseph Addai                IND
Adrian Peterson       MIN


Wide Receiver
Dwayne Bowe              KAN      
Michael Crabtree        SFO


Tight End
Dallas Clark             IND


Kicker
Rob Bironas            TEN


Defensive Lineman
Robert Mathis           IND
Ndamukong Suh  DET


Linebacker
Karlos Dansby         MIA
DeMarcus Ware   DAL


Defensive Back
Oshiomogho Atogwe STL
Eric Berry                         KAN



Reserves
(they don't get points unless I put one of them into the starting lineup before that game starts)  
Darren Sproles RB SDG
Ahmad Bradshaw RB NYG  
T.J. Houshmandzadeh   WR BAL
Pierre Garcon WR IND
Austin Collie WR IND
Stephen Tulloch   LB TEN  
Tracy Porter   DB NOR
Earl Thomas DB SEA  

Hyperion Day

Thanks to everyone who helped give me such a great day.  Thanks for all the prezzies and well wishes.  I made some great memories - a FEW of which I may write about soon, and some you'll have to just always wonder.  It's good to be Hyperion. 

Not long for this World?

A few minutes ago I saw a spider on the wall.  This wasn't any ordinary spider, but roughly the size of Fat Elvis.

Let me back up for a minute to say that I feel about spiders approximately the same way that I feel about child molesters, people who didn't like INCEPTION and cable news hosts between 8 and 11 p.m.*, that is to say - our world is not served in any tangible way by their continued presence and they all should be destroyed!!!!!!

(*I realize that by virtue of MSNBC's anemic inability to sustain programming my edict would have the inadvertent result of killing Keith Olbermann twice.  I'm okay with this. Are there any objections? No?  Good, let's move on.)

Anyway, the only thing that kept me from yelling out "Madre de Dios, a spider large enough to have its own orbit!" was that the spider was jumping from wall to wall in the corner of the room.  This isn't generally how spiders climb up walls.

(Except Mexican Jumping Spiders.  Or is that Mexican Jumping Beans?  I forget.  let's move on.)

Finally I realized that the reason the spider was jumping from wall to wall was my ceiling fan was affecing the spider.  It was at that moment that the ceiling fan caught huge, pulling the spider from the wall UP OVER MY BED, where it disappeared!

To make matters worse, I have dark giant-ass-spider-hiding sheets! (In retrospect, why did I buy sheets that advertised their product as, "Now with dark hue, to hide giant-ass spiders!" Who brags about this?  And what kind of moron buys those sheets?  Arrrrrrrgh!)

To make matters worser, I almost never wear many clothes in my room. I hate clothes, and go without them at every opportunity. And I'm freakin' succulent!  I'm not saying I'm going to be on the cover of GQ anytime soon, but when it somes to an insect meal?  Let's just say I would be the Donner Party's Dream Feast.  My delicious flesh and vital organs - even my bones would probably taste good, slowly braised! 

So, somewhere, perhaps only inches away from me, a spider - which in all likelihood will get its own congressman when the Census figures are fully tabulated, is waiting, watching me with his 8 beady eyes (is it 8, or 80?  I forget), just waiting to sink his 8 fangs into my irresistible flesh. 

If you never hear from me again, that's why. 

Love that Shan Yu

"Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

quote by Shepherd Derrial Book on "Firefly" 

I may have to rethink Christmas in July

Worst. 

Julistmas. 

EVER.

Alvin Greene for Senator!

The new Alvin Greene video is, simply put, sublime.  Words can barely describe.

Greene won the Democratic U.S. Senate primary as a virtual unknown in South Carolina, prompting calls that his campaign was fake etc.  Since then he's become a fascination by the Media, which led the video below.  For the record, Greene did not make the video (which kinda makes fun of him in a good-natured way), but according to his Twitter page, he approves. (Note: the NY Times thought it was made by Greene, but unlike the sheep, I do not consider them the paper of record and do not trust their sourcing.)

Regardless of who made it, the video rocks like no political ad you've ever seen.  Funny, painful, funky, true.  Even bizarre.  I have found the lyrics, which I present below with the video for you to enjoy:







When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!


Listen up everybody, ’cause I’m here to say
If you’re tired of the government you have today
And you wanna big change in a major way
Then vote Alvin Greene on Election Day!


Jobs! Education! Justice, too!
My man Al knows what’s best for you
So come together party people, both red and blue
And don’t believe the rumors that are just not true.


Well, Greene’s a new face in politics,
And he don’t show porno to college chicks.
But he’s got some ideas that’ll fix the state,
So open up your minds and stop the hate.


Time to dig down deep in your wallet or purse.
It can only get better and it can’t get worse.
Shake up DC, sat in the church,
And put me, you and Alvin Greene back to work!


Well, let’s talk about the issues one time -
Makin’ sure the punishment fits the crime!
And if you don’t think that’s cool enough -
He’s gonna give lots of money to the schools and stuff!


Real family values those are rad –
He loves family and lives with his mom and dad!
November’s coming, it’s time to choose -
And Jim DeMint should be ready to lose!


Alvin Greene, is on the scene.
Gotta get out and vote, if you know what I mean.
Alvin Greene is the one for you.
He knows how you feel ’cause he’s unemployed, too.


Alvin Greene is the natural choice.
Don’t listen to the folks that make fun of his voice.
Alvin Greene, his campaign’s legit,
And you know this great nation will benefit!




When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!


When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!






I never thought I'd say this, but....


WE'RE MOVING TO SOUTH CAROLINA!

Walled In

"I would think that if a man suffered the terrible fate of being murdered and cemented into the walls of a building, his wife would take it upon herself not to raise their son for his entire life in that building. But that's me."

-Michael DeZubiria, in a hilarious user-review on IMDB for the Horror/Thriller WALLED IN, starring Mischa Barton.


And because one poster of this sure-to-be-awesome-but-not-in-a-good-way movie is not enough, I give you: 

Best Quote Ever!

What Took You So Long?

"There is surely a word—in German, most likely—that means the state of active non-accomplishment. Not just the failure to reach a specific goal, but ongoing, daily failure with no end in sight. Stunted ambition. Disappointed potential. Frustrated and sad and lonely and hopeless and sick to death of one's self."

-Susanna Daniel, in a Slate.com article called: "What Took You So Long?  The quiet hell of 10 years of novel writing." You can read the article here.

I posted the quote because I totally understand the sentiment.

Guatemala.

My sister Jerrica and I decided to read the Wikipedia page for one country each day. Day 1 was Guatemala.  You've never seen so many coups.  A few randomly chosen facts:


Guatemala is a country in Central America bordered by Mexico to the north and west, the Pacific Ocean to the southwest, Belize to the northeast, the Caribbean to the east, and Honduras and El Salvador to the southeast. Its area is 108,890 km² (42,043 mi²) with an estimated population of 13,276,517.

The first evidence of human settlers in Guatemala goes back to at least 12,000 BC. There is evidence that may put this date as early as 18,000 BC, such as obsidian arrow heads found in various parts of the country.

The current average age in Guatemala is 19.4 years old, 18.9 for males and 20 years for females.

More than 450 Mayan villages were destroyed and over 1 million people became displaced within Guatemala or refugees. Over 200,000 people, mostly Mayan, were killed during the civil war, which ended in 1996.

For more Check out the Wikipedia Page and secondary sources.

• Guatemala Map Search with Longitude and Latitude
  
• Government of Guatemala
  
   (Spanish)
• Guatemala
  
   entry at The World Factbook
• Wikimedia Atlas of Guatemala

This is meX10000

100 Trillion Dollars

[I Twittered these this morning. I thought they were funny, even if no one else did.]






If I had 100 Trillion dollars I would burn ECLIPSE before anyone could see it. All TV Mute Buttons would be disabled.


If I had 100 Trillion dollars I  would ban all Horrorscopes but Gemini & make Fran Drescher a judge on American Idol.


If I had 100 Trillion dollars I would make cat owners wear bells around their necks & carry straw in their left hands.  




If I had 100 Trillion Dollars all Sports teams would be renamed The Fuzzies. HGTV & BET would merge Networks. 


If I had 100 Trillion dollars all vehicles & houses would be painted puke green. I'd have Carrot-Top marry your kid. 


If I had 100 Trillion Dollars I'd destroy all but 1 copy of EVERY book. All underwear (Men & Women) would be Bloomers.


If I had 100 Trillion dollars I'd make all adoptions be cross-racial. Paris Hilton would be Press Secretary. 




If I had 100 Trillion dollars I'd ban Hairspray, Leather, Texting, Muffins, Rainbows, the letter L, Coffee & Potatoes.




If I had 100 Trillion Dollars I'd make all religions combine with the Hamburgler as their figure-head. EAT MISERY, WORLD!

Dragon Flagon!

My youngest sister Jerrica went to the Renaissance Faire on Sunday and brought back gifts.  A previous Faire landed me Pythagoras, my 4-foot dwarf wizard and walking-sexual harassment lawsuit (he can't keep his felty mitts off the ladies).

(Do NOT ask to see his "Magic Wand")

This time Jerrica seemed equally pleased with her gifts. One was to my other sister (for her surprise birthday party last night), a dragon-ring with which I was hired to write an epic story. (Sadly, despite pleas for help from friends and strangers, I have had severe writer's block. I also spent the money, so I have to either deliver or hold a fundraiser. Sigh. A problem for another time.)

Another she gave me a few hours before the party, hoping to inspire me to write a great story. (Here's hoping.)

It is a DRAGON FLAGON.

(At first I thought it was from the SS Collection.  Thank the Light that was wrong!)

As you can see from the front, there are a couple of Dragons on it.  The back is even cooler. That black strip around the Flagon is leather, sort of like an arm guard a soldier might wear to protect him from sword hits in battle. It's all studded like an S&M collar. But then around the handle it laces up!

My Flagon has a corset!!!!

Obviously I'm overjoyed at this development. Having a Flagon already says I'm ready to party - but a kinky corset on the Flagon....It's gonna be THAT kind of party, baby!

(Somebody get me the mashed potatoes*)

Even more than the Dragons and the corset, though, I think what excited me the most was that when I closed my eyes and held out my hand I felt this heavy thud.  The Flagon is quite large, and more importantly, Solid.  What I'm getting at is that I could EASILY kill someone with it, either by smashing them over the head or catching their temple with the bottom edge.  Jerrica said it's solid steel, and I believe her.

Perhaps it was once a sword, melted down?


I love love love gifts that not only do what they are supposed to, but might also maim and harm.  (Kinda how I like my women.)

I'm going back to working on my story now, but first I think I will take a sip, from my Dragon Flagon.  Be on your best behavior,