Month: April 2002

  • Those of you who identify with the poem below, rejoice! There is hope! Download Mozilla from www.mozilla.org and check it out, particularly the feature shown below:



    ..just take the checkmark out and viola! no more popups..I'm weeping with joy even now!

  • I'm reposting this here because, well it's mine and I want to...so there.

    How Many Windows
    By Zane T. Dark (3/22/2002)

    Research on the net,
    Wanna make a bet,
    That every single site I hit assumes me in their debt.

    Window after window,
    Popping here and there,
    Whittling my patience, graying all my hair.

    Make your penis longer,
    Make your breasts real large,
    Clear up your complexion for a minor credit charge.

    New, improved, and xtra,
    Natural and safe,
    Better than the one before that made your knuckles chafe.

    Become a multi-billioniare,
    Sell Real Estate and Books,
    We got rich the same way, it’s as easy as it looks.

    How many windows must I close,
    And through the refuse wade,
    To find a decent recipe that gets these brownies made?

  • Here's sure win at scrabble...or perhaps 3-D virtual Scrabble:


    methionylglutaminylarginyltyrosylglutamylserylleucylphenylalany
    lalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyllysyglutamylglycylal
    anylphenylalanylvalylproylphenylalanylalythreonylleucylglycylas
    partylprolylglycylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylserylleucyllysylis
    oleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylglycylalany
    laspartylalanylleucylglutamylleucylglycylisoleucylprolylphenyla
    lanylserylaspartylprolylleucylalanylaspartylglycylprolylthreony
    lisoleucylglutaminylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucylarginylalany
    lphenylalanylalanylalanyglycyvalylthreonylprolylalanylglutiminy
    lcysteinylphenylalanylglutamylmethionylleucylalanylleucylisoleu
    cylarginylglutaminyllysyhistidylprolylthreonylisoleucylprolylis
    oleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparaginylleucy
    lvalylphenylalanylasparaginyllysylglycylisoleucylaspartylglutam
    ylphenylalanyltyrosylalanylglutaninylcysteinylglutamyllysylvaly
    lglycylvalylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylaspartylvalylpro
    lylvalylglutaminylglutamylserylalanylprolyphenylalanylarginylgl
    utaminylalanylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvalylalanyl
    prolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleucylcysteinylprolylprolylaspart
    ylalanylaspartylaspartylaspartylleucylleucylarginylglutaminylis
    oleucylalanylseryltrosylglycylarginylglycyltyrosylthreonyltyros
    ylleucylleucylserylarginylalalanylglycylvalylthreonylglycylalan
    ylglutamylasparaginylarginylalanylalanylleucylprolylleucylaspar
    aginylhistidylleucylvalylalanyllysylleucyllysylglutamyltyrosyla
    sparginylalanylalanylprolylprolylleucylglutaminylglycylphenylal
    anylglycylisoleucylserylalanylprolylaspartylglutaminylvalyllysy
    lalanylalanylisoleucylaspartylalanylglycylalanylalanylglycylala
    nylisoleucylserylglycylserylalanylisoleucylvalyllysylisoleucyli
    soleucylglutamylglutaminylhistidylasparaginylisoleucylglutamylp
    rolylglutamyllysylmethionylleucylalanylalanylleucyllysylvalylph
    enylalanylvalylglutaminylprolylmethionyllysylalanylalanylthreon
    ylarginylserine


    It's the chemical name for C1289H2051N375S8.


    And it's probably in those new colored M&M's  all the voting is about.

  • The battle of the house continues:


      I've been staying with my father for a few months, and I brought my cats with me. Now before I describe the situation with his dog and now this drama is playing out, let me introduce my boys:


    Mister Bubble:



    • Holds a grudge longer than any other domesticated animal short of an elephant
    • Claims the highest spot in the room...well the highest spot that doesn't require any effort; like my head
    • Jedi Master Level pouter...can make you feel guilty for washing out the water bowl and depriving him of agua for even a few minutes
    • Named for his concessive/compulsive traits, using the bath bubbles as an example, he knows there's water under there, he knows he doesn't like water, but he's drawn to the bubbles like Homer Simpson to individually-wrapped cheese singles..."Aaarrrh...cheeeeese!"

    La Fou:



    • Very possibly the stupidest cat on the face of the planet (were he a cartoon cat, you could play his head like an empty soda bottle by blowing across one ear)
    • Very possibly the sweetest animal in existence (has NO concept of betrayal, punishment, or rejection...'Ooo,  you're petting me! That's really gooooodddd!')
    • Purrs constantly...no really! He purrs constantly...you can rub is fur backward until the static electricity makes his nostrils arc electricity. Still purring.
    • He drools like a dog; come to think of it, his dog qualities out-number is cat qualities 10 to 1
    • Enjoys having his butt spanked...don't ask how this was found out, just take my word for it. He LOVES it.
    • Named after Gaston's dim-witted sidekick/accomplice in Beauty and The Beast

    ..there's more, but this isn't really about them so much as the dynamic of these two when a small dog is thrown into the mix. And may I add, a spoiled-rotten, attention hound of a bitch if there ever was one. So cute it should be illegal, so hyper she could be an alternative energy source, and so baffled by the presence of two cats that couldn't bewilder her more if you shaved her down and replaced her tail with a feather duster. Her name, a black and white poodle/lhasa apso mix, is Cookie.


    Cookie has these chew toys, hide bones really, that she'll chew on for hours....much to the entertainment of the boys. They watch her do this the way a vegetarian would watch someone eat monkey brains...revolted, but fascinated at the same time; unable to relate in any way, but also unable to look away. Now Cookie thinks they are, in some way, lusting after her prized possessions, these slimy, disgusting hide strips. The latest battle is for the boys to try to make it through the living room, littered with half-chewed bones (we put them up, but she'll get each one of them out and soon you have an obstacle course) without her seeing them. But every once in a while, they can't help it, they'll stop and sniff at one of the bones. Cookie, if she sees them, will jump down to defend her prize and charge one of them; causing one of two reactions:



    1. Oh shit! At which point much scattering of tails and fur ensues in a veritable Copperfieldian display of vanishing ability..now you see 'em, now you don't.
    2. Ease-Up, Shortie! Followed by a growl, a right/left/right swat combination that would make any prize fighter envious, or a combination of both.

    Now, just when you thought the rules were in place, and the lines were drawn; someone shakes the Yahtzee cup and everything changes. Now the competition is...yours truly. I'm sitting on the couch, minding my own business, and after a while, as usual, I have two cats lounging on me in various positions. This is ok until I begin to actively *pet* one of them and Cookie sees it. She literally cannot STAND this! She will crawl into this nest of claws on my chest, and attempt to settle right in front of my face to make sure SHE is closer to me than the other two.


    Now normally, if I just stay still, all is fine. But Fou can't stand it because the dog's tail is wagging...did I mention that Fou never did outgrow kitten-dom? This is a disaster waiting to happen, and all on MY chest.



    • If the dog freaks, then the mass exodus will surely remove the first layer of skin off of my upper body in a Wile E. Coyote dropped into an Acme Sheep Shearing Machine sort of way.
    • If the cat misses and hits me, I'll flinch and the same fission reaction and ritual blood-letting.
    • If Fou *doesn't* miss, the dog freaks, but the cat's claw is now in her tail so the cat/dog combo forms a biological hurricane so close to my face I can HEAR the hair coming out, also not good

    So now, how long I'm able to watch tv revolves around how many animals are in my general vicinity..how much of a book I can finish is directly related to the jealousy of a dog. sigh, time to move.

  • I know, but I have a good excuse. But rather than bore everyone with that, consider this:


    At what point does helping become a crutch? Where do you draw the line? As an example, how about this situation; some of what I do is network consulting, and specializing now in wireless consulting of the same. A customer is having problems with his wireless network, but HE'S the network administrator. The only reason he's in touch with me is for help with a product my company sells. But, and here's the kicker, in order to *convince* him that the problem does not lie in our hardware, I basically have to do his troubleshooting job for him. Now, me personally, this stuff is great fun. I don't mind it at all...like a puppy with chew toy. But from the company's perspective, this is money spent doing the customer's job for them...in many different circles this is something they would have to pay for, and it ain't cheap.


    Or, perhaps something a bit more personal. A friend needs help in several different ways. Let's say it's a life crisis that has taken their job from them and split up the family. Now the emotional help is one thing...friends do that for one another (you always gotta have someone to bitch to...them's the rules), but when that gets to writing resume's, helping pay the bills because they no longer have a checking account and they give you the money to pay them, getting them a car and helping them keep it running because they know NOTHING about vehicles...you get the idea. It can become a way of life after a while, and in some cases, you don't even notice it happening until you look up one day and *your* bills are late, *your* car needs work, and *your* resume is moldy.


    In other words, when does help become crutch become patsy? I kind of answered my own question in the last of that previous paragraph, but does it have to go that far before it can be described as 'too far' or 'too much'?

  • Yesireee, only into his fourth day, and Zane's amazing procrastination skills come to the surface. No entry for yesterday; so this will also be an attempt to inflict some discipline on myself as well...without the rashes or abrasions one normally associates with such things, of course.


    I realize that genital piercing is, at some level, an attempt at self-expression or even a stab at individuality of a kind. Now myself personally...I don't see metal threaded through the tender fleshy parts of one's body as being anything but some kind of answer to a twisted, alcohol-induced dare. But that's just me.


    Zane's tips on being original:



    1. Superglue a turkey feather to your forehead.

    2. Seal your last two fingers together with silicone caulking.

    3. Fashion a bicycle from used prosthetics and dental work.

    4. Pick a random day to answer every question asked of you with a blast from a portable airhorn..and nothing more.

    5. Glue several Hot Wheels ® cars to the bottom of a skateboard and demand to be serviced at the drive thru.

    6. Accessorize your wardrobe with Tupperware® every Wednsday.

    7. Hang a personallized license plate from the ear of your choice.

    8. Just before leaving work, warn your boss that you may have to stay home because you're feeling ill...then show up anyhow and bring donuts.

    9. Compose your weblog while nekkid.

    10. Open your front window and dance to 'Walking on Sunshine' while banging on a pot with a wooden spoon.

    Pretty soon, everyone you know will not be able to think of a SINGLE person that is like you...and you won't have to get anything pierced.

  •  

    Why are they called Tugboats when I have not, as of yet, EVER seen them pulling anything but a wake of gulls? They always seem to be pushing, even barges. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite sure they CAN tug and more than likely do when I’m not around. But it’s a bit like saying you’re ‘surfing the net’ when in actuality, you’d be ‘tangled in the net’…


     


    I only bring this up because it was the last thing going through my mind as we were leaving the bay. We were going deep sea fishing and I was…*there*. It was early. And I mean ‘Oh-dark-thirty’ kind of early…the sky was just getting some morning color to it and all was right with the world for now. Then as soon as we hit the Gulf of Mexico, I was at Astroworld. I’m not a motion-sick person..butchaknow, when your hands start tingling and you already took 3 Dramamine when you got up and 3 when you went to bed…you are SO in trouble. I lucked out though, the sea was too rough to fish and the rest of the charter decided to go back and we ended up getting our money back. How lucky is that?


     


    Eric wants to go fishing in the bay in his boat, and it’s getting to be that time of year. I dunno, I may have to stick with my dad this year and just concentrate on terrorizing the fish in the lakes around here until I can talk to my doctor and he can convince me that this new prescription is going to work. I told him I’d either bring him back a fish, or a bag-o-seasick, so he’d better be right…urp doesn’t garnish well, even with baby truffles and a spritz of lemon…at least not as well as amberjack.

  • Up late again..is it just me or is anyone else embarassed about what comes on the airwaves during late night? Other countries, cultures, nations must see us as a very self-absorbed and petty society when viewed through the hail of infomercial content.


    A discussion I had with Leah tonight brings up another point about people. Is it better to not be able to be alone, or to make it alone and choose not to be alone? I suppose it's kind of like asking if staying in a difficult relationship shows strength, or weakness; or if turning over control of a relationship to another person is a product of self-confidence (and confidence in that person), or an apathetic or non-commital attitude. In both cases, I've found, it can be both...it all depends on where you're seeing from and from where it stems. There are times when, to keep my own sanity, I have to fight *against* optimism; does that make me too trusting..too naive..too, I dunno, sadly clueless about the world in general. I wonder..

  •  

    So I’m driving into work this morning completely oblivious to the fact that I’m an hour late because of daylight savings time and perhaps feeling a bit more responsible than usual because I actually thought I left 30 min earlier because of this RAIN! I think the correct Texas term is ‘like a cow pissing on a flat rock’, but it was coming down. I hear on the radio that some stupid woman is filing a law suit against Burger King because they fry that veggie burger on the same grill as the rest of the meat. WHAT!?


     


    Reasons she needs to have her tubes tied:


     



    1. I’m a vegetarian and I go to Burger King…evidently the health-food-hangout of the new century.

     



    1. I order a veggie-burger at a fast food restaurant…to me this is like making an appointment with your dentist to have your cataracts removed.

     



    1. When the restaurant agrees to offer to *microwave* said tofu/soy hunk for me the ever-valued but still shallow-pocketed customer, that’s not enough. ‘Vegetarians have the right to blah, blah’

    *[mentally thumbing through the Constitution] no they don’t you waste of oxygen.


     



    1. I’m not a real vegetarian because all the REAL vegetarians are actually, oh I dunno, what’s the word I’m looking for…how about a phrase like…know what the hell they are doing and if they are really that serious about it they’ll make their own damn meals thank-you-very-much or show up at a salad bar. I think a few REAL Vegans need to put a burlap sack over my head, drag me out into the alley and beat the crap out of me with a tire iron for embarrassing the family.

     



    1. I desperately need to be sued for embarrassing the human race in general, and if I DO have any offspring, the aliens passing through our solar system may just think this is the last straw (on top of the Jerry Springer trailer park pedophiles, the lose weight, look younger, cook faster, live better infomercials, Holy War live broadcasts) and stroll out to the asteroid belt and send a Vermont-sized asteroid our way just to remind us how petty we really are just before we are all vaporized.

     


     


    Feel free to add your own..mine seem to be getting longer with each entry…

  • It’s been almost a year and a half now; the earth is still spinning, stocks, tides, and foreign relations still rise and fall. The future is still just as uncertain, the past still as poignant and painful, and the present still as mundane and bewildering at times as it ever was. Almost like she’s not gone…almost. I thank God/ Buddha/ Allah/ Bill Gates every day that I can still hear her say…in my head…clear as day…’Hello Dahl’in’ when I’d come over for breakfast. I can still feel her eyes on me when I’m pontificating something particularly ridiculous that really needs that look of ‘you are SO full of shit’ cast upon it in order to distill any useful information, if there *is* any. Unfortunately, I can still hear, clear as day…’..I think your mother has passed away..’ in voice so full of pain and disbelief…uncertainty and panic that surely that couldn’t have been MY father on the other end of the phone…and the feel of her forehead under my hand; growing cold no matter how all-consuming my will to not let it be so grew. 

     


    And the phone calls…oh my God the phone calls. I hope, dear reader, that you never have to tell your brother or sister that your mother…or father…is dead. “Hey little brother…I know it’s 2am, and I’m sorry to wake you. But I’m calling to ruin your life….to tell you that your children will never get to know Gradma…that last Christmas, just 15 days ago really, was the VERY last time we’d ever see our three stockings filled with that useless and delightfully unexpected stuff that mom always put in them or that ANY of the Christmas decorations will get used or…that right now I want you to drive 3 hours over here and take a post-hole digger to my chest because it would HAVE to feel better than this!”  I wanted to crawl to the center of the earth and let her  compact me to the size of a pin head…dark, self-contained, small, alone, and utterly beaten. But I still had to call my youngest brother…and then her sister…and then I want…REALLY want to close a wall safe door on my head again and again to force that silence out of my head…fill than empty space…to shut myself up…to get on with my day. Like now.