tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29589393109809185632024-03-19T06:25:54.547-05:00The Ballpoint BananaThe only possible explanation.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.comBlogger282125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-91881516493367582882014-02-12T20:15:00.001-05:002014-02-12T20:15:56.031-05:00Try it with our new fattening celerySo we have this monthly department-wide meeting over lunch today at work, and the tradition is that the monthly birthday people supply the lunch for the group. This works out well for me, since the December dinner is a big Christmas party meal thing, but I digress. The February crew today did Italian, and in what I assume is an effort to be sensitive to folks of all diets and tastes, one of them made (presumably delicious) low carb spaghetti.<br />
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Let's run that back again. Low. Carb. Spaghetti.<br />
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I know of two good reasons to eat spaghetti other than it being tasty. The main one is carb loading. Spaghetti, while delicious, is beneficial because it gives distance runners such as myself wonderful slow burning carbs that give extra energy for races and strenuous workouts. It's the best thing ever.<br />
The other one is that spaghetti is dirt cheap. I imagine low carb spaghetti, whatever it is, is probably much pricier than run o' the mill awesome carb filled spaghetti.<br />
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So this abomination known as "low carb spaghetti" is like spaghetti with all the inherent benefits of spaghetti removed.<br />
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Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-74932293822071792472014-02-09T03:10:00.000-05:002014-02-09T03:10:15.232-05:00Fun, True Facts about the National Anthem of NorwayI have hated the Norwegian national anthem since before I started kindergarten for reasons we might touch upon another day. It involves a Commodore 64 and one of my sisters.<br />
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1. The name of the anthem is "Yes, We Love This Country." Look, people of Norway, I'm happy that you love your country, but this reeks of desperation. You might as well call, "It's a Dump, but it's OUR Dump."<br />
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2. The first stanza tells us why the Norwegians love their country: literally thousands of people live there, and it is above water. "Come to Norway! Not too crowded! You probably won't drown!"<br />
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3. The rest of the first verse tells us to think of our father and mother and the saga night that sends dreams to earth. I know from my early education via Commodore 64 that Saga was a Norse Goddess, but that's really the only clue I have to decipher that part.<br />
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4. The second verse details the great heroes of Norwegian history. Harald uniting the country, Sverre speaking against Rome. That sort of thing. As far as I can tell, there have been no Norwegians of note since their king was excommunicated by the Pope a thousand years ago. They should consider re-writing this verse so it includes A-Ha.<br />
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5. The next two verses are about how Norway has defended itself from invaders using farmers with axes and their wives. This leads me to believe that no foreign power really wanted Norway all that much. They also proudly state that they burned their land if they were defeated. Even Norwegians are ok with destroying Norway.<br />
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6. There's a nifty verse about how much they like Sweden and Denmark. Neither Sweden nor Denmark have a similar verse in their anthems about how much they like Norway. This is telling.<br />
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<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/VRS6cbLOrPQ?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-5203644404118552062014-01-22T21:24:00.001-05:002014-01-22T21:25:02.314-05:00Month of the Living DeadMy body has been craving sleep lately. I have been making a point to get my normal sleep allotment, generally about 6-7 hours, only to discover that I am basically dead and useless until about 11. On the weekends, I've been getting somewhere between 12 and 13 hours of sleep and still am tired at the start of the next week.<br />
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And then, the dreams. Somehow I had a dream about Andy Dufresne hang gliding in Mexico the other night. Another night, I dreamed there was an old, classic black and white movie that quoted, line for line, Warden Norton's lines when he discovers Andy Dufresne is not in his cell, complete with a character named "Fuzzy Breeches". Now, while I work in the field of mental health, I am not a psychologist, but I imagine this is probably due to the fact that we often fall asleep with <em>The Shawshank Redemption</em> playing in the background. But! Wouldn't it be more fun if the cause of the dreams were deep-seeded urges, insecurities, or repressed memories? This calls for an amateur psychoanalysis team. Anything that will help me get my normal amount of sleep and also feel rested in the morning.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-87216454621622137482014-01-17T00:21:00.000-05:002014-01-17T00:21:28.226-05:00Tall People ProblemsI gave blood today. I love giving blood for a number of reasons: it comes with some sweet swag, I get that smug feeling that comes with community service, and they feed me all my favorite Keebler brand cookies. All good things. Plus, for whatever reason, blood bank workers always feel the need to compliment my body while I'm donating, specifically my huge honking veins that pop out of my arms. "Oooh, those are some nice big veins. I can see where they like to attack them. I could go with either one." goes the typical exchange.<br />
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However, there are aspects of giving blood that are somewhat uncomfortable for me. Obviously, getting a finger prick and my arm jabbed with a super huge needle is less than my favorite thing. But in addition to those unpleasantries, there are a few problems that I am assuming most of the population does not experience when giving blood that are unique to tall skinny males. It may not be readily obvious on the internets, but in real life, I am actually quite tall. 6'4", to be exact.<br />
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1. Orthostatic hypotension. I have suffered from it ever since I hit my growth spurt and shot up 11 inches between 14 and 15. Basically, if I stand up too quickly at times, all the blood runs out of my head, leaving me to collapse and convulse on the floor for a few seconds, frightening everyone around me. Draining blood from my body exacerbates this considerably, making it an adventure every time I stand up, but the brief lack of consciousness leaves this crazy little out of body experience which is actually fun and kinda trippy to go through. I never mention this problem to the screeners, who thanks to my immaculate vitals believe me to be the picture of health. More on them in a minute.<br />
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2. Short cots. Blood drives have these tiny little temporary cots you lie on while you get your blood sucked out of you, and they are not designed for the vertically gifted. In fact, I usually end up kicking someone in the head or avoiding a game of footsie with the person unfortunate enough to be in the next cot over.<br />
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3. Long arms and vital signs. Generally, when taking vital signs, the screeners have this nice little table thing between them and the donor. However, if the donor has long awkward Go-Go-Gadget Arms, it simply does not suffice. When my blood pressure gets taken, I have to fully extend my arm, leaving my hand off the table and invading personal space. Worse, since one should not close their fist while getting their blood pressure taken, I have an open hand fully extending toward the almost always female screener's chest. At this point, the screen has to apply the cuff and listen with the stethoscope, which requires her to lean forward, and it is at this point that I have to awkwardly shift in my chair and slide my arm around as much as I can to avoid groping the poor woman. I have yet to find any way to give blood that doesn't involve molesting my screener for a brief second. It seems to happen regardless of the person's size or shape. I can only assume that they either can't tell that their boobs are attacking my hand through the scrubs or that it happens frequently enough that it's just a minor occupational annoyance. At any rate, it's always uncomfortable for me, and the fact that the screener is either unaware or indifferent to the whole process leaves me no social cues, making me even more self-conscious about the thing.<br />
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Luckily, giving blood makes me feel healthier after the whole passing out every time I stand up situation passes, and then I get a second wave of smugness when the automated voice calls me and tells me that some patient in Dayton, OH is alive thanks to me. You're welcome, complete strangers!Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-7110810526463992332014-01-15T23:55:00.002-05:002014-01-15T23:57:38.381-05:00ResolveAttention, people who used to read this blog who have stopped for reasons that may be related to the fact that I stopped writing on it:<br />
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It has come to my attention that 2013 was not, in fact, an exciting time for this blog. Luckily, I have resolved to write more this year, and since I have basically nothing of substance to say, this blog may be the primary recipient of it, until I forget and stop following through on my New Year's Resolution.<br />
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I made one other New Year's Resolution: To not make any New Year's Resolutions until April. It has come to my attention that the absolute coldest, deadest part of winter is in fact a terrible time to contemplate major life changes. No one wants to exercise when it is so cold that you no longer care if the temperature is being measured in Celsius or Fahrenheit. (At -40, they are the same. Fun Facts.) January, I have come to realize, is the time of making vague hopes of what you plan to do when you can feel your toes again, and what you might like to do when you feel so emboldened to throw off the Snuggie and quit watching Netflix.<br />
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(Another good April Resolution: Include product placement in blog posts in case I get enough readers that companies start sending me free stuff. One can never have too many Snuggies. Or carpet cleaner, in case the good folk at whatever shady web 2.0 advertising only read blog titles.)<br />
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But yes, back to April Resolutions. February is like a more depressing version of January, so it is clearly ruled out, and March seems like a winner except that the beginning of spring is always the worst. All of the snow on the ground melts, and it generally gets melted by massive amounts of rain. The end result of all this is that the world becomes one giant mud pit and is basically disgusting. Spring is the most overrated of seasons, but the reason it gets its rep is that every spring has one gorgeous day in early April between the otherwise nonstop rainstorms. That is the best day of the year outside of Christmas, Thanksgiving, and the first time it snows. It is on this day that I will evaluate my life and make these profound, serious, never taken lightly goals.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-62717980079294913182011-09-07T20:41:00.004-05:002011-09-07T21:17:37.298-05:00On Songs Stuck In My Head*<span style="font-style:italic;">*Attention, SAT word inventors: the English language is sorely lacking a word that means "a song stuck in my head." Please get cracking on it. Thank you. Also, this post apparently is leaning heavily on parenthetical asides, which I generally find disruptive to the flow of prose but was unable to lay off of tonight. My apologies.</span><br /><br />It is now time to get back to one of the grandest, least commented upon traditions on this blog: overanalyzing pop music. I'm not entirely sure what drives me to obsessively hone in on every tiny little element I like and don't like in music, but it's there, it's not going away, so I just accept it and deal.<br /><br />The result of this obsession and my unwillingness to fight it is that I am particularly vulnerable to song-stuck-in-headedness (again, need a nice, tight vocab word to express this phrase more naturally. The College Board, this is where you can give back after taking so, so much.) As I have so much experience with the phenomenon, I am working on a taxonomy of songs stuck in the head. It is still a work in progress, but I thought I'd give you a few archetypes I have experienced lately:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">1. Songs you'd rather not admit you know all the words to:</span> Singing, humming, bobbing, or mild dancing is never acceptable in public and already subjects the person to more than their fair share of public scorn. "Look at that rube," the public thinks, "singing and dancing and humming as if he enjoys music. Who enjoys music these days? What's up with that?" I generally find this baffling and chalk it up to people's primal urge to destroy anyone that they perceive might be having more fun than them (see also: war on drugs, war on sex, and basically wars in general). This public scorn is and should be intensified if the person is mouthing all of the words to "Always" by Erasure, for example. This is the most dreaded type of song to get stuck in your head.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2. Songs you only know the chorus to or songs with very few lyrics:</span> Another deadly category, this applies mostly to catchy songs with choruses that are repeated a zillion times in its 3 minute duration, leaving you with only enough to repeat a tiny song fragment periodically for all of eternity, or at least the afternoon. It's the aural equivalent of Chinese Water Torture. It's annoying for the person with it stuck in their head, but truly pity their poor, poor coworkers who have to spend every second of the 30 minute van ride listening to them sing the chorus to "Private Eyes" or "Turn to Stone" endlessly. "I Got My Mind Set On You" fits the bill as well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3. Songs with no words at all:</span> "Walk, Don't Run" and "Classical Gas" just aren't the same when they're whistled.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />4. Songs no one else has ever heard of:</span> "It's 'Cruel To Be Kind.'" "No, Nick Lowe." "Sometime in the early seventies, I think." "Yes, I'm aware you weren't born then; I wasn't either, but I still know it." "Seriously, what is weird about this? It was a hit song. It plays on the radio. It's pop culture. I shouldn't have to explain any of this."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5. Songs that you cannot sing out loud in public:</span> Either the lyrics are incredibly offensive or completely gender inappropriate. This happened to me today. On the way to a department wide meeting, the insidious bastards at G101.3 decided to play "Hips Don't Lie." I know enough of it to sing through a bit, but something is lost when I sing Shakira's part, and I'm reasonably sure that directing any of my coworkers to keep on reading the signs of my body is a recipe for all kinds of trouble. This category also applies to Christmas songs when it isn't Christmas season.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-16371406347991788222011-08-30T20:15:00.003-05:002011-08-30T20:57:07.804-05:00New Adventures in Acne TreatmentI hate zits. I used to get them all the time, but then I found the miracle of Panoxyl 5% bars, which appeared to be benzoyl peroxide mixed into a bar of soap that you use on your face. What I loved about Panoxyl was its refusal to do anything outside of destroying the zits on your face. There were no lame moisturizers or lotions or anything else that would make your face feel not dried out. No, Panoxyl was all like, "We are going to dry every bit of moisture and oil out of your face until the zits shrivel up and die. Don't go out in the sun, but if you do, rest assured that the zits will be fried right off of your face, and the sunburn will heal in time." Yes, it was quite the product.
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<br />Then it was cruelly taken off the market. I should have been forewarned of this development, as I got an email at work saying that the pharmacy would be unable to get it anymore, but I took that to mean the hospital pharmacy wasn't going to restock, not that the product was disappearing from existence. Had I realized that, rest assured I would have started hoarding bars like Elaine Benes with the Today Sponges.
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<br />Today, after fighting a losing battle against the zits for a couple weeks, I decided it was time to go shopping for a new acne face wash. Into Walgreens I walk, looking mostly disgusting since I had just finished mowing the lawn and was about to take a shower when I realized I needed the zit soap. The massive, sensory overload inducing Skin Care aisle assaults my eyes as soon as I walk in. Judging its size, prominent position in the store, and the fact that it has its own checkout counter, I imagine the skin care department is responsible for at least 75% of Walgreen's sales. This imagining is confirmed, as my slight pause in the skin care aisle elicits an immediate "Are you looking for something in particular?" from the sales girl behind the special skin care checkout area. She must have thought I was lost, which would make sense, as approximately 90% of skin care products have some form of female model on the label. Instead, I immediately answer "Acne soap!" and she goes to the end of the aisle and says "All of our products are right in this section. Is there a certain kind you prefer?"
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<br />"Well," I say, "Panoxyl worked wonders for me, but it's off the market now," and begin shaking my fist at the sky. Seriously. I actually did that.
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<br />"Yeah, I've heard a lot of complaints about that, actually." I look at her, and she has nary any sort of blemish, zit, pimple, blackhead, facial scar, anything. I begin to doubt her expertise on acne products, but press on. Eventually, after she gives favorable reviews on Clearasil's Daily Face Wash, I buy it, despite two reservations, which I voice:
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<br />1. The active ingredient is salicylic acid, which I find to be less effective.
<br />2. It says 2%, which is clearly 3% less than the 5% I had with Panoxyl. I don't care that the active ingredients are different; I need my percentages to match up.
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<br />During my purchase, I notice my friendly sales associate's actual title is "Senior Beauty Adviser," despite the fact that she looked all of 23, maybe. This means she either really knows her skin care, and has thus maintained the look of a 23ish person despite having 25 hard years' experience at the skin care grind, or, like me, she was given a job title that will require some explanation on any future resumes. Yes, unbeknownst to most, I am actually a <span style="font-style:italic;">Senior</span> Rehab Therapist at the hospital, despite being the youngest and least tenured member of the department. I assume it's the latter rather than the former, and thus feel reassured that I'm buying acne soap from someone who, like me, is obviously a straight-shooter with upper management potential.
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<br />As for the actual product, it smells strongly of menthol and burns like a mother if it gets in your eyes, which is a problem since I tend to get zits on the side of my nose. My face doesn't feel completely dried out, so I'm not sold on the effectiveness, but only time will tell in that regard. Most importantly, my Senior Beauty Adviser has assured me that if I am not 100% satisfied with my new zit soap regimen, I may return it for a full refund. That's the kind of quality customer service that gets you Seniority status straight out of high school, for sure.
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<br />I'll keep everyone posted on the results, as this is obviously the hard-hitting investigative consumer reporting you come to this blog for.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-52697312934405299072011-08-29T20:36:00.003-05:002011-08-29T21:28:07.850-05:00On Acceptable Blog ContentWhat makes blogging awesome is that it's free (good for my currently income-challenged state), it allows me to have some semblance of a social life (in the form of regular commenters I will probably never meet but can still claim as friends), and provides me with an outlet to show the world how oh-so-clever and quirky I am (with the accompanying ego-massage a happy side-effect).
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<br />What sucks about blogging is that since I don't have one of those popular, daily, laser-focused blogs about a specific topic, I'm forced to search and scrape for material. Now, I could start one of these blogs and get a sizable readership if I simply commented on <span style="font-style:italic;">Judge Parker</span> every day, but if there's one thing blogging has taught me, it's that I really don't have the attention span to write a post every single day, so I continue with my own minor obsessions.
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<br />The main problem is that most of my obsessions are, how you say, uninteresting to most people, or at least to the people I know read my blog, and I'm simply too considerate of a host to bore you all with why I think the vast majority of my fellow Colts fans are morons, for example. I've also learned to never, ever write a blog post about people I actually know, because boy howdy will it make me look foolish in a few years. And since I work at a hospital, I've stopped writing about professional foibles, as it would be frowned upon, even though I've always snipped names and confidential information. Plus, after five years, working with the mentally ill is no longer the new and exciting adventure it was when I first started.
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<br />The other major pitfall of my blogging style is that it is my overarching goal to appear happily deranged, rather than disturbingly deranged. This is tricky because I literally have no idea how many of my quirks are socially acceptable. For example, last Friday, I couldn't find my work keys, and while I was asking a coworker to let me in my office, he asked if I checked the pants that I wore yesterday and I reflexively answered "These are the pants I wore yesterday" before I could consider whether or not most people actually wear their pants 2 or 3 times before they wash them. I don't know. Apparently not, as he kind of chuckled and said, "Yeah, I've done that a couple times myself if I think they didn't get too dirty or anything." So, note to self: never admit you wear pants multiple times again.
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<br />So, basically, my posts are limited to
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<br />A) Bizarre, but funny, things I think about.
<br />B) Strange random encounters I have with odd people in public places.
<br />C) Interesting hobbies.
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<br />Choice C is going to be the sticking point. Right now, my hobbies are pretty uninteresting, and would probably reveal way, way too much about my nerdy loser core. For example, no one wants to read a blog post about how my party in <span style="font-style:italic;">Secret of the Silver Blades</span> won an epic battle over Marcus the Archmage, despite his medusae turning three of my fighters to stone. If you do, well, I certainly don't want to write it, so I'm afraid you'll be left wanting. Similarly, I'm not sure the unwritten blog post "My Dog Keeps Jumping On Me Even Though I Ignore Her When She Does" is going to be one for the Greatest Hits reel.
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<br />So, I must find some new form of hobbies, preferably ones that involve strange and interesting people to interact with. Frontrunners include joining a community choir, finding out if the Richmond Symphony Orchestra allows Mellophonists in, trying to start an angry letter-writing campaign demanding the inclusion of mellophones in the RSO, and obtaining a mellophone and honing my somewhat rusty mellophone skills (I still remember all of the fingerings and can play "When the Saints Go Marching In," at least, and in my experience mellophone parts were never overly complicated). Since the mellophone angle sounds like a bit of an expensive long-shot, I think I'll take the choir route.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-84141056978828180942011-08-22T19:55:00.002-05:002011-08-22T20:39:09.917-05:00On Hand DryingI'm not sure when the hygienic ritual of hand-washing after using the bathroom started, although I believe it is outlined in Leviticus somewhere. Unfortunately for God's Chosen People and all subsequent generations, Moses did not specify proper drying techniques while outlining the procedures for purifying one's self after a bowel movement, and the result has been the erratic and counter-productive evolution of the hand drying industry. Truly, no aspect of everyday life is as much of a testament to the coming Idiocracy than paper towel dispensing.
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<br />Back in olden times, paper towels were dispensed via a stainless steel box attached to the wall with a sloped slot at the bottom. The box was filled with paper towels that were folded in such a way that one would come out through the sloped slot at a time, providing the user with a hands free dispensing system. If one's hands were still wet after using a paper towel, one simply grabbed another. To reload the dispenser, one just put more towels on top of the existing towels, or dropped a new set in and pulled the first one out to get the set started. This system is known as the "tri-fold" and it is no longer used anywhere except for that church your mom goes to that hasn't been remodeled since 1971.
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<br />Then, one day, a man thought, "My hands are still wet even though I already used a paper towel," became outraged, and rather than simply getting another paper towel, devised a new system to dispense however much paper towelage one requires. I'm not sure on this, because I wasn't there, but I believe his system used a roll of towels instead of individual towels folded over each other and employed a crank to dispense them. Now a person needed to expend manual labor to crank out as much towel before tearing off the towel on the jagged edge. Reloading became slightly more difficult, as the roller apparatus needed to be disassembled to fit a new roll in and the towel needed to be loaded so it would unroll a certain way and needed to be fed through the dispenser or else it would jam, resulting in no towels for anyone.
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<br />This system eventually would be replaced after a cranky teacher aide for the second graders complained about all the paper towels the boys wasted in the bathroom and devised a new dispenser, the lever. To work the lever, one simply pulls a lever down on the front of the dispenser, similar to the lever on a toaster, and a paper towel is dispensed so the user can tear it off. This allowed the teacher aide to tell the boys they couldn't get more than two lengths, and allowed the 2nd graders to hold the paper towel in the dispenser and pump the lever until it jammed, then pulled out a huge length of paper towels that was scrunched up like an accordion, much to the dismay of the T.A. Also, with even more internal moving parts, the possibility for something to break or go wrong was increased again.
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<br />It wasn't until The Wussiest Generation took power that a new revolution would come in paper towel dispensing. The Wussiest Generation, seeing the potential for germs to spread on the handle of the paper towel dispenser that had just been touched by people who had, uh, just washed their hands, devised bold, new designs that would allow the paper to be dispensed automatically so that all the person had to do was pull down. These designs always failed miserably, and the towel jamming in the dispenser was so common that all of them had troubleshooting guides to tell you exactly how to unjam it, usually involving a complicated system of buttons and wheels that needed to be pressed and turned. Still, a small price to pay to stop the spread of cholera.
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<br />Then, one day, the finishing touch was applied to paper towel dispensing when a brave corporate drone realized that while we had succeeded in making paper towel dispensers less hygienic, more likely to break, and less convenient in the past few decades, we as of yet had not found a way to make them waste electricity. And so, the motion detector was added to the paper towel dispenser, opening up the possibility of dead batteries, motion sensing errors, and undetectable jams to all of the other problems created. Still, a hard fought victory was won, and the people now had a paper towel dispensing system that did not require them touching anything that someone else had touched, required no work on the part of the user, and dispensed a set amount of paper towel to reduce waste. Just like the tri-fold dispenser at your mom's church, only dumber, more wasteful, and much more likely to break.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-9640784458601757642011-08-16T20:41:00.003-05:002011-08-16T21:21:57.030-05:00Did the Soviets ever agree to share that Punch Computer technology?Remember my ongoing quest to watch all of the Best Picture Oscar winners? It continues, and I am current through 1953's <span style="font-style:italic;">From Here to Eternity</span>. It has truly been one of the better ideas I have ever had and has enriched my life greatly.
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<br />How has it enriched my life? Well, that's hard to define. I have more emotional range? I think about issues I didn't think about before? My horizons are broadened? I have a better appreciation of movies as art? I get cultural in-jokes that went over my head previously?
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<br />While thinking about how I would convince someone that watching a bunch of old movies is worth their time, it occurred to me that I need some concrete, real-world benefits from my movie watching to point to. And so I begin a new project, probably to be never mentioned again and forgotten after this post, to find a way to use the movies I watch to improve my life. We start with the iconic winner from 1976, <span style="font-style:italic;">Rocky</span>.
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<br />Unlike most viewers, I feel the real take-home message from this picture is that the key to success is to make yourself as miserable as possible and give yourself every possible disadvantage. Rocky trains by beating up cow carcasses hanging in a butcher's freezer. In the third installment, he leaves his state-of-the-art fancy pants personal training center to train with Apollo Creed in the disgusting gym populated by, horror of horrors, poor black boxers who have nothing except for the Eye of the Tiger. In Rocky IV, he jogs up and down mountain in Siberia while coddled nancy boy Ivan Drago runs on a treadmill with electrodes taped to him and uses the Soviet version of the Commodore 64 home computing system to analyze his punching power.
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<br />As such, today I stocked my garage with an exercise mat, resistance bands, and a set of 20 lb dumbbells to form a very primitive gym. As my garage is not remotely climate controlled, it frequently reaches temperatures approaching 100 with little air circulation to be found. I shall now begin my routine of working out in these intolerable conditions (with nary an electrode to be found, mind you) until I have the physical and mental strength to almost but not quite succeed at, um, something or other. I seem to have forgotten that I have to have a goal in place first, but then again, that was never a problem for Rocky. In fact, Rocky was pretty much a loser with absolutely nothing going for him until Apollo offered him the exhibition match. New plan: I'm going to continue being a loser with very little going for me until I receive the opportunity of a lifetime, at which point I will begin using my miserable new hot garage gym to gain the ability to succeed, only to just barely fall short. Inspiring.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-31376803144189234962011-08-15T22:17:00.004-05:002011-08-16T11:13:51.436-05:00Brave New BloggerToday in a comment, Liz mentioned that it was great to have me back in the blogging community. Unfortunately, she spoke too soon, for I'm afraid a lot has changed in the past 4 years or so. I am no longer the carefree, optimistic, and endearingly self-absorbed goofball I was in 2007 or whenever it was this blog used to be updated. No, no, this is not a return to my former whimsical glory; rather, it is a gritty, tortured reboot of the blog, sharing (for now) only the silly name in common with its predecessor, like the blogosphere's version of <span style="font-style:italic;">Funky Winkerbean</span>.
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<br />You see, deep dark themes are taking over. For example, back in 2007, I was relatively convinced that if politicians I liked and supported could only get elected somehow, then maybe our country's rapid descent into hell could be reversed, or at least somewhat slowed. Now, I'm faced with the fact that we have a president who I voted for twice, who went to every length on the campaign trail to prove that he cared about issues I care about, and who has gone on to continue virtually every bad idea I voted for him to change. I can only assume this was by design, and that I actually live in a one-party police state whose main priorities involve transferring wealth from the poor to the rich and providing all of the deltas with enough soma to keep them from storming the gates. Somehow this involves baseless acts of aggression against countries who have oil; the basic calculus of the plot is unfortunately beyond my grasp.
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<br />Next, I had ingenious plots once upon a time. When I started at the state hospital, I had a bold vision, a master plan. At the time, there were big rumors about the hospital privatizing, which had everyone living in a state of fear and anxiety except for me. I figured if the hospital privatized, people would leave, there would be more positions open that required 4 year degrees, and since I was one of the few people who had one, and I already had a foot in the door, I'd be first in line. Well, the hospital never privatized, but my general plan to get a foot in the door and step into the first opening that appeared eventually proved fruitful, albeit I had to get my foot in a few more doors before it happened. Now, I have a rather enjoyable job, which compensates me fairly; my youthful optimism has since morphed into garden variety middle-class ennui. Which, obviously, is much less fun to write about, and even less fun to read about, which is why this paragraph is ending right now.
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<br />Moving on, I'm not even youthful anymore. Now, I have always been old for my age, as my extensive collection of board games and earlier comment about a newspaper soap opera comic can attest, but now my age is actually catching up with my oldness. I soon will no longer be in the "hip kid in his twenties" demographic and will be moving into the "trying too hard guy in his thirties" demographic. While I don't mind being the butt of jokes, I generally prefer that the jokes in question be mine.
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<br />So with no further ado, the management will announce the following changes to the blog:
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<br />1. We will now refer to ourselves in the plural, like royalty. We will also occasionally refer to ourselves in the third person as "the management." We feel this pompous tone gives us that extra gravitas that such a serious endeavor as this blog should command.
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<br />2. We shall be changing the title of the blog from "The Ballpoint Banana" to rid ourselves of the blog's connection to the insipid and frivolous <span style="font-style:italic;">Batman: The Movie</span> from 1966. The new title of the blog shall be "Why So Serious?" which we are told is from the second installment of the very dark and gritty critically-acclaimed reboot of the Batman franchise.
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<br />3. The color scheme shall be changed, hopefully to something involving black, silver, and red, to further illustrate how mature and serious the blog is.
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<br />4. "Monday Morning YouTube" will be replaced with "Monday Morning Leonard Cohen Lyrics."
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<br />5. The management will no longer chronicle their sartorial selections, as the new dress code of the blog will consist of black turtlenecks and only black turtlenecks.
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<br />6. All readers and commenters shall be addressed in the most condescending and dismissive manner possible, as none of you can possibly grasp the seriousness of all this seriousness.
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<br />So, we hope you "enjoy" our new format, although we suspect most of the readers will be put out, as most would prefer to live in their deluded, sheltered state rather than stare deeply into the face of the cruel, cold world in which we live.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-81278738799870993842011-08-12T19:36:00.004-05:002011-08-12T19:53:36.161-05:00Bullets of Filler MaterialBlogging is hard, and I remember now how much I suck at it. Until something sufficiently wacky and interesting happens, we resort to the dreaded bulleted list.
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<br />Bullet No. 1: I took my car to my mechanic to get my tire patched and plugged. He took one look at the pathetic, treadless slab of rubber I dragged in, had pity on me, and informed me that the tire was not worth the $15 I was about to put into it. I explained that I didn't have any money for a full set and just needed something to get me a drivable vehicle again. After inspecting my car and his used tire selection, he found two almost but not quite as bad used tires and discovered that my high quality rear tires could be rotated to the front while his used tires could work fine in the back, and then did it all for $30, cutting me a nice deal because "You've thrown a lot of business my way," which is a nice way of saying "Thank you for driving shitty death traps." So a big shout out and thank you to my friends at Ronan's in Richmond.
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<br />Bullet No. 2: I just walked to the VP down the block and purchased a Powerball ticket and a $3 bottle of clearanced wine (Gallo Family Vineyards Chardonnay). Convenience store professionals refer to this combo as "The Cry For Help."
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<br />Bullet No. 3: My other ancient car, the 1990 Plymouth Horizon, also has a flat tire from the alley debris from the idiot across the alley. Unfortunately, due to the advanced state of rust on the lugnuts, I am unable to change it myself. "But Andy," you say, "just loosen the lugnuts before you jack it up." Oh, I tried. It turns out, all evidence to the contrary, I am actually strong enough to lift the car off the ground and spin the tire before the lugnuts will loosen. On the plus side, this means I can probably carry the car to the mechanic with relative ease.
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<br />Bullet No. 4: If this clearanced wine is at all drinkable, every one of siblings is getting a bottle for Christmas.
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<br />Bullet No. 5: Blogger's examples of post labels, known as "tags" to people who actually speak Internet, are "scooters, vacation, fall." I'm going on record right now by saying that taking a scooter vacation in the fall would be a ton of fun. Unless by "fall" they mean "falling off the scooter." That would be less fun.
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<br />Bullet No. 6: Speaking of scooters, I went running the other day. I ran by a group of people congregating outside of a garage. One of them yelled, "There goes killer! Watch out, don't fall!" at me, I assume, as there were no other people on the street. I was utterly confused until I saw that he rode in on a scooter, and thus was probably intoxicated. I should refer him to the VP, or better yet, trade him a case of my clearance wine for his scooter.
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<br />Bullet No. 7: The VP also has Mad Dog 20/20 on clearance. Dad will be getting one of those.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-53389041616889179672011-08-10T22:22:00.007-05:002011-08-10T23:14:24.359-05:00My Name is AndyThe past few weeks have been full of struggles. And minor catastrophes. And a couple major catastrophes. And setbacks. Oh Lordy, how there have been setbacks. Indeed, by any objective measure, this has been the most backsetting month of my life, with no end in sight. It has gotten to the point where after every soul-crushing setback, I wait for the other shoe to drop, which it invariably does, repeatedly, again and again and on and on, as if I'm being trod upon by a dancing 8-legged OctoGiant. Times are tough, as they say.
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<br />I won't bore you with all the gory details of the problems afflicting my normally idyllic existence, which are legion. Instead, it occurred to me today, while I was climbing through the backseat of my Nissan to manually unlatch the trunk from the inside so I could change the tire that had flattened after I ran over a piece of stray brick from my idiot neighbor's overflowing shed of garbage, that I have a simple, easily solvable case of Bad Karma, and, as such, need to find the source of the bad karma and address it. I have been racking my brain all evening in search of the origin of the malaise, my unforgivable sin that spawned a thousand tears. And while it may be simply a side effect from the mild concussion I suffered after I was able to unlatch the trunk only to not push the trunk door up far enough for the pneumatic device to catch and hold it causing it to fall back down upon my then extended head, but I think I've found the offending action.
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<br />Three weeks ago, on July 21, I was at CVS with very limited cash on hand buying some necessary supplies when the associate pointed out that they were running a charity to buy and send sunglasses to soldiers in Iraq. I politely declined to participate and silently went all Ebenezer Scrooge on the concept in my head. "I'm sorry, but did we suddenly slash our defense budget so much that the military is relying on me to pay an extra dollar for the cheapest possible sunglasses on top of the massive tax money they already receive? And even so, soldiers are compensated fairly, so shouldn't my charity dollars go to people who have little or nothing or lack the ability to provide for themselves? And also, soldiers chose to go to Iraq. Shouldn't they be prepared to deal with the sun?" I left the store feeling absolutely no guilt or remorse about the affair, forgetting that I had once decided as a rule to never refuse help when it was asked of me and I was able to pitch in.
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<br />What I didn't realize is that somewhere in Iraq, a soldier who sends most of his money home to provide for his sickly mother, his pregnant wife, and his adorable two year old was unable to purchase sunglasses from the PX and, while patrolling the desert, eyes dried and scratching from the sand and the heat, shook his fist at the sky and cursed the man responsible for his unfortunate situation.
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<br />And so tomorrow, between tire repairs and work, I must venture forth on a noble quest to win a stay from the onslaught of karmic retribution coming my way. If CVS is no longer participating in the charity, I have no idea how to make amends. If the three seasons of <span style="font-style:italic;">My Name is Earl</span> I watched are any indication, wacky hijinx and unforeseen complications will arise. But I remain resolute. Sunglasses for the masses, says I.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-14897263469844720162009-09-17T20:55:00.005-05:002009-09-17T23:24:05.510-05:00Best of the BadsToday while on break with Kelli, I found the newest addition to my playing card collection: Disney Villain Cards. This led me to start thinking about who would be my favorite Disney villain of all-time.<br /><br />But first, let's eliminate some obvious also-rans:<br /><br />1. Prince John (Robin Hood): Not entirely fair to the Prince, since Robin Hood is more about the team of good guys v the team of bad guys. However, I think Rule 1 of villains should be that they are a fair match for the hero, and since Prince John's defining characteristics are greed and incompetence, I just don't think he measures up. Worse, Prince John gets upstaged by his henchmen, Sir Hiss and the Sheriff of Nottingham, who is so impressive of a henchman that he gets his own henchmen.<br /><br />2. MAN (Bambi): MAN is scary and destructive enough, and certainly causes enough evil, what with the burning down the forest and killing Bambi's mom and all. However, MAN is portrayed in the movie by a 3-note motif, and I think I'm looking for something a little more corporeal. Oddly enough, MAN didn't make the playing cards. I guess "dun dunnn DUNNNN ::cymbal crash::" was a little too hard to illustrate.<br /><br />3. The Queen/Witch (Snow White): Probably the most evil of the evil villains, so evil in fact that she has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I feel like the audience should kind of like the villain and sort of hope he prevails at some point. The Evil Queen hires an assassin to cut out Snow White's heart and bring it back in a golden box. It's just hard to get behind that sort of monster.<br /><br /><br />So, that leave me with this top five:<br /><br />5. Cruella De Vil:<br /><br />Pros: Has a catchy ditty written about her. Friends with the human protagonists. Has hilarious henchemn. Drives a cool car and smokes cigarettes with a holder. Dedicated.<br /><br />Cons: Wants to kill puppies. You can never cheer for people who want to kill puppies, unless you are an Eagles fan.<br /><br />4. Jafar:<br /><br />Pros: Ridiculously powerful. High standing as Vizier, lots of wealth, magic powers, etc etc, making him perfect foil for penniless Aladdin. Friends with Gilbert Gottfried. Gets to say the awesome line, "There is a cave, boy; a cave of WONDERS!" The one villain to survive the movie.<br /><br />Cons: Not particularly charismatic. No music number. Also, how did he lose? Really. He was already basically running the kingdom, because Lord knows that bumbling Sultan wasn't doing it. I mean, really, he can hypnotize people. Why didn't he just hypnotize Jasmine into marrying him? Or hypnotize whatever dolt she would eventually be forced to marry? Seems there were easier solutions to his problem than seeking out the cave of wonders.<br /><br /><br />3. Ursula the Sea Witch:<br /><br />Pros: Runs a legitimate business that takes advantage of saps. Intelligent. Charming to the point of unctuousness. Also contains one of the creepier henchmen, Flotsam and Jetsam.<br /><br />Cons: Do we ever know what she does with the poor unfortunate souls once she turns them into creepy green plant things? I'm a little bit confused by her tactics.<br /><br />(Didn't know whether to include Pixar movies or not. If I would have, 3rd place would've been occupied by Syndrome from The Incredibles)<br /><br />2. Scar:<br /><br />Pros: Sarcastic, rude, funny, willing to break the rules. Would've been the best uncle ever if it weren't for the whole line-of-succession-based assassination plot.<br /><br />Cons: Hopelessly overmatched and outnumbered once Simba returns. Plus, he's not...<br /><br />1. Gaston:<br /><br />Turns out this was an easy choice, because I decided that Gaston was pretty much right all the way through. Look at the facts:<br /><br />A. Gaston is successful at everything. He is the best hunter, best fighter, best at everything. He's going to have an excellent life ahead of him. People don't usually get to be liked by EVERYONE by being a jerk. Just sayin.<br /><br />B. Gaston could've had any woman in town, but he's a one woman man. Sure, he may be a bit superficial, but then, Belle is the heroine for a reason: she really IS the best girl in the village. Gaston merely recognizes this, and, being the best himself, he knows he deserves the best. Even Maurice recognizes this.<br /><br />C. Belle chooses the Beast over him. I think it's important to remember that the Beast was turned into a Beast because he was the biggest asshole on the face of the planet. And let's not pretend like the Beast was all nice when they met either. She was willing to give the Beast a chance despite the whole imprisoning her forever, but wouldn't give Gaston a chance because he's a bit superficial and not interested in literature? Perhaps she's not so good at looking past the surface herself. In additon, the nice sweet gesture that made her see the good in him? He didn't let her get eaten by wolves. I wouldn't let my least favorite person on the planet get eaten by wolves if I could prevent it. It doesn't exactly take a big dose of empathy for one to stop wolf-maulings.<br /><br />D. His one "malicious" act is trying to get Maurice committed. As a mental health professional, I'm thinking that if someone were building insane contraptions in their basement that has a tendency to blow up their house from time to time, and even when they work, still involve rickety parts swinging sharp axes at perilous speeds and flipping logs in random directions, they qualify as a danger to themselves and others. So he greased a few palms to get his point across. He at least isn't attempting to murder anyone.<br /><br />E. As for trying to kill the Beast, I think the larger point that the Beast kidnapped two citizens of the town shouldn't be overlooked. Yes, he let her go, but only when he saw that her father was dying, and the Beast's behavior at best can be called "erratic." Gaston may have gone a bit overboard, but his basic stance, that the Beast could be considered a threat to the town, was valid.<br /><br />F. And then there's this:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zDMfpbdbHWg&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zDMfpbdbHWg&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />A song and dance number. In 6/8 time. Gaston is the best and the rest are the drips.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-3129341296004175732009-09-09T22:35:00.004-05:002009-09-09T23:06:54.693-05:00One Song I Heard On the Radio and One Song I Heard on the Radio on a VideogameCompare and contrast two songs with highly catchy music and lyrics of varying degrees of quality:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5jdA9Tdg-k">"Umbrella," Rihanna</a>:<br /><br />This song has the dumbest, worst conceived lyrics of any song, maybe ever. They aren't even Jim Steinman-esque <a href="http://awesomelybadlyrics.blogspot.com/">Awesomely Bad</a>. They are just terrible, and here is why: Every songwriter and lyricist has to resort to the occasional cliche, just like every songwriter eventually cribs from the Beatles. We understand this. We forgive it.<br /><br />What we do not forgive is when you have insipid cliched lyric after insipid cliched lyric and don't even bother to make sure they rhyme. Or in some cases have anything to do with each other. Observe the amazing chorus of this masterpiece:<br /><br /><blockquote>When the sun shines we'll shine together<br />Told you I'll be here forever<br />Said I'll always be your friend<br />Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end<br /><br />Now that it's raining more than ever<br />Know that we'll still have each other<br />You can stand under my umbrella<br />You can stand under my umbrella.</blockquote><br /><br />I suppose technically "Forever" and "Ever" rhyme. And they did manage to get that highly imaginative "friend/end" combo in there, I'm assuming by accident. But ever/other/umbrella... that's just not even close. The whole thing is compounded by the fact that "umbrella" isn't exactly an easy word to sing, and therefore Rihanna has to add an extra syllable to it just to get it to fit. My favorite part, outside of the use of the word "I'ma", is that they flat out admit they've got nothing and just repeat the last line at the end.<br /><br />The wonderful thing is it took 4 people to write this work of art. Good work, all.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTHCwU9rUdY">"One Step Forward," Desert Rose Band:</a><br /><br />You know that story about how Paul Simon wrote "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" to teach his kid how to rhyme? I'm thinking Desert Rose Band used this song to teach their kids opposites, because I'll be damned if they don't include every set of antonyms in the Songwriting For Dummies handbook. I would like to make fun of it, but I can't, because they fit them all in such perfect rhythm and rhyme over a catchy melody. I mean, you have to respect their dedication to the theme of the song. "We're using opposites, and we will keep using opposites until we have three and a half minutes worth of music." And just to keep us guessing, they alternate the position of the good and the bad one. They even dug deep and pulled out this combo:<br /><br /><blockquote>You were my fever and my cure<br />Made me doubt and you made me sure</blockquote><br /><br />I mean, if you had me list about 20 opposites off the top of my head, those two sets wouldn't come up, and they fit so easily together.<br /><br />So, see, Rihanna's gigantic songwriting committee? You can be cliched and not suck. You just have to do it with a bit of panache. That's all.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-87076824213098561172009-08-25T21:00:00.003-05:002009-08-25T21:25:18.917-05:00And Another Thing!<em>My Fair Lady</em> wasn't even the best MUSICAL of 1964! How does <em>My Fair Lady</em> beat out <em>Mary Poppins</em>?<br /><br />Really. Are there any lines in My Fair Lady as awesome as "Feed the birds and what have you got? Fat birds!" I'm also fond of the insane naval commander who lives next door and inexplicably fires his cannon at random things. Plus, Julie Andrews did her own singing. Audrey Hepburn, not so much.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-80460603850885252622009-08-19T20:37:00.003-05:002009-08-19T21:20:28.502-05:00Clean UpLet's see, where was I?<br /><br />Oh right.<br /><br /><em>The Silence of the Lambs</em> (1991): I watched this movie by myself, in the middle of the night, in my giant, cavernous apartment, with no lights on, and boy howdy was it creepy. It deserved every award it got. And then some, probably. I think this movie has no flaws whatsoever, but I still find it inferior to <em>Rain Man</em>. Moving on.<br /><br /><em>No Country For Old Men</em> (2007): The Coen Brothers weren't shafted! 11 years later, they get their rightful due they were screwed out of when <em>Fargo</em> didn't win. I think I would've liked this one more if I didn't know the Coens made it. I kept waiting for the quirkiness to step in, but just found mountains of unrelenting evil and death. Oh well. I prefer a little comedic relief in my drama, like, for instance, an autistic man who only flies on Quantas. Moving on.<br /><br /><em>Slumdog Millionaire</em> (2008): Somewhere, somebody must have said, "You know, Andy tries to watch all of the Best Pictures, so let's tailor a movie to his particular tastes and see if we can unseat <em>Rain Man</em>." "Good idea," says his partner, "but what does he like?" "Foreign cultures!" "Flashbacks!" "Organized crime!" "Elegantly intertwining storylines!" "Happy endings!" "Hilarious bits mixed in with serious, heart-rending bits." "Great. Anythin else?" "Game shows!" "Wait, how can we work game shows into this?" Thus, the challenge was laid down, and from this spitballing session came <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em>, complete with game shows, and yes, I did in fact love every second of this movie. If they had remembered "mental illnesses," it might have actually succeeded in unseating <em>Rain Man</em>. Maybe next time, movie producers.<br /><br /><em>It Happened One Night!</em> (1934): So I was looking on Turner Classic Movies On Demand the other night, and <em>It Happened One Night!</em> was listed. At first I felt it was kind of cliched, but then I realized in 1934 there weren't cliches yet and that pretty much every romantic comedy since has copied its formula, and since I love Frank Capra, I let it go. Pretty enjoyable little flick. In other news, did Clark Gable always look that pissed? A quick Yahoo image search reveals, yeah. Pretty much. Also, one thing I did NOT expect to see was the ending from <em>SpaceBalls</em> sneakily cribbed from this movie, almost line for line. Seriously. And as far as I know, no one else realized that either. Kudos to Mr. Brooks.<br /><br /><br /><em>Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Quit Worrying and Love the Bomb</em> (1964): HOW IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS HOLY DID THIS MASTERPIECE LOSE TO <em>MY FAIR</em> FUCKING <em>LADY</em>????? More to come in a following blog post dedicated entirely to why <em>Dr. Strangelove</em> is awesome and <em>My Fair Lady</em> is inawesome, which is a word I just made up. It shall feature lots of capital letters, multiple punctuation marks to end sentences, and possibly some bold print. Along with profanity. When some people think about what they would do if they could go back in time they think of preventing the Holocaust, or changing major mistakes they made in their lives. Me? I want to make <em>Dr. Strangelove</em> win in '64.<br /><br />In other news, <em>Rain Man</em> is awesome.<br /><br />So, let's look at the Big Board (don't let the Russian Ambassador in):<br /><br /><strong>2008 Slumdog Millionaire*<br />2007 No Country For Old Men*<br />2006 The Departed*<br />2005 Crash*<br />2004 Million Dollar Baby*<br />2003 The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King<br />2002 Chicago<br />2001 A Beautiful Mind*<br />2000 Gladiator<br />1999 American Beauty<br />1998 Shakespeare in Love<br />1997 Titanic</strong><br />1996 The English Patient<br />1995 Braveheart<br /><strong>1994 Forrest Gump<br />1993 Schindler's List<br />1992 Unforgiven*<br />1991 Silence of the Lambs<br />1990 Dances with Wolves</strong><br />1989 Driving Miss Daisy<br /><strong>1988 Rain Man*</strong><br />1987 The Last Emperor<br /><strong>1986 Platoon*</strong><br />1985 Out of Africa<br /><strong>1984 Amadeus</strong><br />1983 Terms of Endearment<br />1982 Gandhi<br /><strong>1981 Chariots of Fire</strong><br />1980 Ordinary People<br />1979 Kramer Vs. Kramer<br /><strong>1978 The Deer Hunter*</strong><br />1977 Annie Hall<br /><strong>1976 Rocky<br />1975 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest*<br />1974 The Godfather Part II*<br />1973 The Sting*<br />1972 The Godfather*</strong><br />1971 The French Connection<br />1970 Patton<br />1969 Midnight Cowboy<br />1968 Oliver!<br /><strong>1967 In the Heat of the Night*</strong><br />1966 A Man for All Seasons<br /><strong>1965 The Sound of Music<br />1964 My Fair Lady</strong><br />1963 Tom Jones<br /><strong>1962 Lawrence of Arabia*<br />1961 West Side Story</strong><br />1960 The Apartment<br />1959 Ben-Hur<br />1958 Gigi<br /><strong>1957 The Bridge on the River Kwai*</strong><br />1956 Around the World in 80 Days<br />1955 Marty<br />1954 On the Waterfront<br />1953 From Here to Eternity<br />1952 The Greatest Show on Earth<br />1951 An American in Paris<br />1950 All About Eve<br />1949 All the King's Men<br />1948 Hamlet<br />1947 Gentleman's Agreement<br />1946 The Best Years of Our Lives<br />1945 The Lost Weekend<br />1944 Going My Way<br />1943 Casablanca<br />1942 Mrs. Miniver<br />1941 How Green Was My Valley<br />1940 Rebecca<br />1939 Gone With the Wind<br /><strong>1938 You Can't Take It With You</strong><br />1937 The Life of Emile Zola<br />1936 The Great Ziegfeld<br />1935 Mutiny on the Bounty<br /><strong>1934 It Happened One Night*</strong><br />1933 Cavalcade<br />1932 Grand Hotel<br />1931 Cimarron<br />1930 All Quiet on the Western Front<br />1929 The Broadway Melody<br />1928 Sunrise<br />1927 Wings<br /><br />Next up: Annie Hall (1977)Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-83306164207997579772009-06-30T13:55:00.003-05:002009-06-30T13:58:19.820-05:00AnnouncementKelli and I are getting married on Aug. 1. It will be a good time.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-77525006329179149022009-05-11T22:39:00.002-05:002009-05-11T22:52:10.948-05:00When Real Life Makes Me Surly......I bitch about unrelated things. With extra ellipses, apparently.<br /><br />And today, despite the fact that I voted for him twice, I think I'm giving up on President Obama. I have stopped believing in the change. Perhaps I was blinded by the fact that Hillary was trying to court racist republican voters instead of me.<br /><br />The deficit is still growing so we can throw extra money to investment bankers and encourage people to buy houses, despite the fact that shifty investing and an artificially inflated demand for houses was a major cause for this mess.<br /><br />We're still kicking gays our of the military for being gay. Go progress.<br /><br />We're still torturing people.<br /><br />We're still paying for health care.<br /><br />But on the plus side, I did get an extra $40 every paycheck. Whoop dee damn do.<br /><br />Mr. President, Mr. Bush has retired. With the worst approval ratings ever. You do not, and probably should not, follow his example. Just a thought. But thanks for giving me a short break from my real life problems. I appreciate it.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-35035286623807673192009-05-04T18:40:00.002-05:002009-05-04T18:54:05.724-05:00Time to Play Catch-UpI've got a lot of things to talk about here, so let's get to the bullets:<br /><br />1. Dick Clark. I watched a rerun of $100,000 Pyramid on GSN the other night, during which Dick Clark took a good 90 seconds to try to figure out how the contestant and celebrity partner whose turn just finished could've gotten the word "Mango." He involved the judges and everything on what would be and would not be allowed to be said as clues. Sure, Dick Clark most assuredly enjoyed hosting the show, but you can tell just by watching it that he really, really wanted to be a celebrity contestant. He thus went through life cursed with seeing the thing he wanted most every day but couldn't get it. Quite sad, really.<br /><br />2. Peanut butter crackers. You know those peanut butter on cheese crackers sandwiches? The bright orange kind? Who thought of those? How did he do it? Was he sitting around one day, eating a peanut butter sandwich and suddenly think, "You know what would taste good on this? A piece of cheese," at which point snack conventions as we knew them changed forever? Cheese and peanut butter. How? It boggles my feeble little mind.<br /><br />3. Monopoly. I lost to Kelli. Badly. It was a rout. She was making trades with me out of pity. My mojo is gone. Notice how I bury this halfway down the post. Moving on.<br /><br />4. Money. I have none. Lots of student loans came due, and so now I have to look at a career change or going to school again. It sorta sucks because I enjoy what I do and I am very good at it. Lucky I also have...<br /><br />5. Cheap sources of entertainment! Such as 8 year old video game consoles, 6 year old games, board games found at Goodwill for $2, and blogging. Of course blogging. Lately we've even had a few friends to enjoy these things with us, so all in all, I'd say things will be ok.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-10352643009175545172009-04-05T10:20:00.005-05:002009-04-06T12:36:06.508-05:00Tally-Ho!This morning was my interview for Under the Boardwalk. The filmmaker, Kevin Tostado, was a really cool guy. I knew this from the start as he immediately began playing with JJ right after we introduced ourselves, and in my estimation, anyone who is cool with my cat is cool with me.<br /><br />Anyway, the film sounds interesting, as he's taping Monopoly tournaments all over the world, and since it might have a minute or two of me in it, I'll keep everyone updated. And since I am in a Monopoly mood now (as if there's a point in the past month when I haven't been in one), I think it's time for the next token:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkO5ySFfMIuz8IEnNcnIX49vagCV_wugLKszGybiq_uiJERwdAqCOXttuimmZh2TmcyN6LwlZyY5RCXPhhBIf2wOu4aMJR15hoNHgZrnzsEkZKtHwhfVGiVBK-joBY0hgAEUs5WaLDNR9/s1600-h/monopoly+horse+and+rider.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkO5ySFfMIuz8IEnNcnIX49vagCV_wugLKszGybiq_uiJERwdAqCOXttuimmZh2TmcyN6LwlZyY5RCXPhhBIf2wOu4aMJR15hoNHgZrnzsEkZKtHwhfVGiVBK-joBY0hgAEUs5WaLDNR9/s400/monopoly+horse+and+rider.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321230509496407106" /></a><br /><br />The Horse and Rider:<br /><br />Usability: The Horse and Rider is a tall and thin token. It's easy to grab and move, and quick to find, as absolutely none of the other tokens resemble anything like it. Probably the easiest piece to use of all.<br /><br />Personality: In a set of random tokens that seemingly have absolutely nothing to do with neither each other nor the game they are used in, the Horse and Rider stands out as being particularly alien, almost as if it's thrown in from some other game entirely. The Horse and Rider is the only piece to have a base; the rest stand on their own, and it is taller than the rest. It seems somehow fitting then that of all the tokens, the Horse and Rider is the one with the actual connection to Atlantic City. In Darrow's time, there was an act on the Steel Pier where a horse and rider would dive off of a 40 ft platform into a tub of water and then swim out. It was apparently quite the tourist attraction. Thus, the player who picks the Horse and Rider may seem a bit off in some way, but is not afraid to stand out and is comfortable and confident because he or she is in their element, right where they belong.<br /><br />Humor: On the humor front, there aren't a plethora of options, but enough to keep this piece respectable. Should you land on an opponent's hotel, simply park the horse in front of it, face the edge of the board, and charge the owner a landscaping fee for improving the facade with your statue. If that fails, you can use the horse to push it over or beat on other tokens like an episode of When Animals Attack. Should you be struck with a creative mood, you can ad lib conversations between the horse and the rider, with bonus points if you can work in the line "Where have you taken us, Philippe?!"<br /><br />Verdict: While a bit ostentatious, the Horse and Rider remains one of the better options available. Other than its high visibility, it has no major drawbacks.<br /><br />Next: The IronAndyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-1982067698685429592009-04-02T23:24:00.005-05:002009-04-04T02:19:20.664-05:00Pull It Together<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9IKtb3jArKCUBoLcX4LtPBupe_Kcvp5DLDd4iQ-gyqbu32saZXNihpuAuCgojdwGny90XUMZfteEAcxWR7usEeM1NiqSpW7tdUENJOQq8Bgg5iFtwioSjpPla_nGvD-sJQGX0aGKSB8K/s1600-h/monopoly+thimble.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9IKtb3jArKCUBoLcX4LtPBupe_Kcvp5DLDd4iQ-gyqbu32saZXNihpuAuCgojdwGny90XUMZfteEAcxWR7usEeM1NiqSpW7tdUENJOQq8Bgg5iFtwioSjpPla_nGvD-sJQGX0aGKSB8K/s400/monopoly+thimble.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320316473520017010" /></a><br /><br />The Thimble:<br /><br />As I have never picked the thimble (not once!) when playing Monopoly, I know very little about it. In fact, the knowledge I have about thimbles wouldn't fill a thimble. As such, I have turned to an expert on thimblian affairs: Kelli. Kelli picks the thimble every time. After picking her brain, here's what I come up with.<br /><br />Usability: An average piece. Doesn't stand out much on the board, not exceptionally easy nor difficult to pick up. Has a nice little textured surface though; that should count for something.<br /><br />Personality: The thimble is the token of choice for contingency planners. No matter how broken things seem, the thimble feels they can fix them. Nothing is beyond repair. It also has the distinction in that it's the only piece that does not have a front or a back; even the Money Bag has dollar signs signifying front and back. Thimble players are balanced and well-rounded, if a bit whimsical and unpredictable. One never knows which way the thimble is going.<br /><br />Humor: The thimble is one of a few pieces that a player can drink out of. This is useful during good times as a celebration drink, and also useful in bad times to drown your sorrows. The thimble can also be placed on the player's pinky, where it can be used to tap out a beat or to strike the other players in the temple to throw them off their game. Bold players can affix it to their tongue and make faces at the competition.<br /><br />Verdict: A piece for unorthodox players. The unpredictable nature of the thimble, matched with their tendency toward back-up plans, points to a player who will make deals specifically to take out whoever is winning. If you are a playing a thimble and winning, take them out fast. If you are playing a thimble and a third person is winning, strike a deal quickly to even the playing field, and then take them out before they can turn a deal with someone else.<br /><br />Next: The Horse and RiderAndyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-19113248135035055422009-03-31T22:53:00.004-05:002009-04-01T00:14:12.740-05:00InterruptionIt's been a busy week for me, what with working a crapload of overtime so I can afford my pending trip to Washington, DC and all. On top of that, my beloved Kelli is feeling under the weather. This would normally require a trip to the doctor, but since for reasons unknown my doctor gave me a refill on my antibiotic, we were able to get her some meds without a dastardly co-pay. In the wrong hands, this antibiotic refill could have been disastrous; however, I am a regular reader of <em>Rex Morgan, MD</em>, and thus knew about the dangers of the MRSA, and therefore only used it responsibly.<br /><br />So, I will soon resume my regularly scheduled blogging about my sudden Monopoly obsession.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-40727228302593888962009-03-24T13:02:00.002-05:002009-03-24T13:06:47.916-05:00Funny You Should Mention ItIn comments, Casey asked me if I've seen King of Kong, the documentary about the Donkey Kong world record. I haven't yet, but a filmmaker named Kevin Tostado is doing a documentary on Monopoly and the Monopoly tournaments entitled "Under the Boardwalk" and has asked for some background information on the finalists. You can see a teaser, along with an interview with Matt McNally, the reigning Monopoly champion, at <a href="http://www.monopolydocumentary.com/home.htm">www.monopolydocumentary.com</a>.Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958939310980918563.post-81437413868895330022009-03-23T23:11:00.002-05:002009-03-23T23:17:39.122-05:00It's Official!Got an email:<br /><br /><blockquote>Andrew - <br /><br />Congratulations again for earning a spot at the 2009 Monopoly U.S. National<br />Championship tournament.<br /><br />Attached you will find three documents that provide additional information<br />about the championship tournament and that will help you plan your trip to<br />Washington D.C. <br /><br />1. Letter<br />This is your official invitation. This document also includes a basic<br />tournament schedule and a short list of questions and answers.<br /><br />2. Affidavit<br />Please review, sign and return.<br /><br />3. Questionnaire<br />Includes important questions about your travel and you. Please answer the<br />questions and return a copy to us. This information will help us plan for<br />you and your guests.<br /><br />If you have any problems with the files, please let us know and we will<br />resend or overnight hard copies to you.<br /><br />Please feel free to give us a call if you have any questions.<br />Donetta & the Monopoly Team</blockquote><br /><br />In addition, it turns out that I was the only one who bankrupted all of their opponents, giving me the #2 ranking behind the defending champ going into the tournament. I'm #2! I'm #2!Andyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11829912497096632377noreply@blogger.com4