Games is fun

I've taken to playing a new game with myself. Basically I spend a few moments coming up with a story for whoever most recently captured my attention.

For example I was in the bookstore and I saw this couple with a crying child. The mother was trying to comfort the child and the man snapped at her to do some specific thing. His tone was annoyed and hers was stressed.

Here is what I came up with: They were married and she had an affair with another man. But, still loving her and knowing she couldn't afford to raise the child alone, he decided to stay and raise the child as his own. He of course had a lot of trouble with this symbol of her betrayal and unavoidably grows short with the child and treats him poorly. Though he treats her very well the mother grows increasingly concerned with her husbands temper with her child. Fearing for the well-being and even immediate safety of her child she decides to leave him. She is hesitant, though, for that would be twice betraying a man who loved her unconditionally.

Then I thought, maybe his motives are darker. Perhaps he was in the middle of an elaborate insurance scheme that involved her death and the appearance of this child put a kink in the works and he was merely bidding his time until he can replan the scheme to include a clean means of ridding himself of this child.

So then I was concerned with the wife's ironic hesitation and decided that as he brought his goons to do the dirty work one of them, who was in love with her, would exact some kind of coup midway and save her, likely losing his own life. OH! and maybe he...he was the father of the child. maybe...

I dunno

Coven?

I put together a post about who I would use to populate my ideal house. About 15 people wound up in this little experiment of the mind. I decided not to list them for obvious reasons.

However, this house would have rocked! I had every single one of my appreciated personality traits given a respective person. In the same day, I could have installed a new sink, lost a computer physically but be able to ping it, watch bad tv, play ddr, go mountain biking, have a heated discussion on comics, cook esoteric meals, discuss religion, play basketball and lose the paint, listen to idm, watch /way/ obscure movies, enjoy stand up comedy, see a play, play settlers several times over and go shooting, all with someone else who was into it as well.

The house would be /very/ nice as many of it's tenants do quite well for themselves. It would also be very secure as many of it's tenants are in the Military and or just generally violent and big. It would be very clean and smell very good because several of it's tenants are demanding women and many of it's other tenants are doting men. The lawn would be impeccable because I like lawn care.

I'm sad that the Lopez Super Happy Fun House will never come together. Not only are it's occupents spread around the country and world, but a lot of them wouldn't want to live with a lot of the others. Pity. It would have filled the evenings with laughter.

Johari

These johari things are making the blog rounds now. Has anyone else been irked by the lack of negative attributes? What if I want to put down that some one is a total asshat? Shouldn't that be an option?

Once I find one with negative attributes, I'll probably put it up.

Day-nap-mares

Does anyone else get extraordinarily horrible dreams if they sleep during the day?

While sleeping at night, the way God, or Mother Nature, or our Insect Overlords intended, I either blissfully sleep without dreaming or have wonderful dreams involving happiness, people I love or want to love, superpowers I will one day have, comfortable surroundings and horrible deaths for my enemies at my hands or the hands of my dog warriors and cat Viziers. Generally I am with someone I miss, or perhaps living out a future I desire. Of course, there are the occasional dreams that are surreal and have no bearing on life itself. There is this one about a paperclip embedded in an old lady's thigh that I have every 5 years or so. I usually push the paper clip, experience abject terror and then wake up, my heart about to burst. Oh, and there is a tree. Those notwithstanding, my night time dreams are generally very happy.

If I take a long nap during the day, however, my subconscious punishes me with the most horrific nightmares I experience. Usually involving horrible violence or the ruination of my life as I know it. I've killed my entire family, commited suicide off a bridge (to prevent a curse..), been tortured, taken hostage, failed out of any of my endeavours, witnessed the deaths of people helplessly, died a lonely old man, etc during these day-nap-mares. They don't happen all the time, but almost exclusively they occur during a day time nap. Isn't that strange?

So usually day naps put me in a bad mood.

Existential? Quantum? I dunno how to label this one

Let's say you have an ax. The kind that you could use, in a pinch, to hack a man's head off...
And let's say that very situation comes up and for some very solid reasons you behead a man.
On the follow-through, though, the handle of the ax snaps in half in a spray of splinters.
So the next day you take it to the ax store down the block and get a new handle, fabricating a story for the guy behind the counter and explaining away the reddish dark stains as barbeque sauce.
Now, that next spring you find in your garage a creature that looks like a cross-bred badger and anaconda. A badgerconda.
And so you grab your trusty ax and chop off one of the beast's heads, but in the process the blade of the ax strikes the concrete floor and shatters.
This means another trip to McMillan & Son's Ax Mart. As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year.
He's also got a new head attached and it's wearing that unique expression of "you're the man who killed me last Spring" resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday life.
You brandish your ax. He takes a long look at the weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he screams, "that's the same ax that slayed me!"
...Is he right?


Well, thats it, the very last piece of the Artemesia I constructed in high school has died. The hard drive. Should I rename the shits? I maintain no...

PS> I didn't write the above. but it's from a chat log and the name is in angle brackets, so your browser thinks it's an html tag.

MTB! My one hobby that isn't lame.

Mountain biking season is fast approaching. I think after this last freeze we're having we will be dead into spring! Time to oil the chains, true the rims, bone up the cardio and stock up on first aid paraphernalia. It has been months since I have been able to hit the trails every weekend. Whether it be for weather, or lack of riding partners, or fear of my heart exploding after a good 2 months of sitting on my ass I had no shortage of reasons to stay in. But, after losing my wallet and being forced to ride 7 miles to and from work each day I know I can still ride long distances without dying, the Texas spring will come with the most beautiful weather any man has ever seen, and I gots me a Dylan, an Austin, and a Dave to tap out when I see fit. Shame Long is out of town.

So look forward to posts about "Endoing" or "Almost dying because I didn't see that damn rock in the creek" or "I did R&P with no brakes" or "Has anyone seen Dave?"

When the summer hits then it gets hardcore. Admittedly it's been a few years since I've spent a summer in Texas. But biking is a hurt and a half under the Texas sun during the summer. Believe me, you walk off that trail feeling like you woke up from a night of heavy drinking, only you're exhausted.

*Points at Self*

What has two thumbs and is in a fantastic mood? This guy.

Intereting Thought

If you never get married, is it technically premarital sex?

Jared Ireland

Jared is coming to town! I tremble with the glee of a 12 year old girl. Hell, only the oldest of friends can even remember a time when Jared was among us. The rest have been unjustly denied that blessing that is knowing he who has touched so many (not...y'know physically). So I will do my best to bring his facthood to life (again....not physically).

In the beginning, circa 2000, there was a barren world of distrust and hatred for all. A downward spiral of black despair speckled with the shattered remains of our collective hopes and dreams, the Moore-Hill dormitory saw it's darkest days. So distraught were we with our lot in life that random knifings in the bathroom were common. Michael, our RA, was so commonly issuing statements to the Police that he actually fell in love with one of their daughters. They were engaged to marry but alas, he was killed in a random knifing in the bathroom. Sweet Irony. The hallways were strewn with the evidence of our rapidly destroyed lives. Broken vodka bottles, shared syringes, several dead residents and a gaggle of free range chickens were scattered throughout the dorm.

One day I was in the bathroom another resident came to me with a shiv carved from his toothbrush. I was going to die, like so many others, in a random knifing. But then God did an Irish jig and Jared came into existance. As my would be murderer raised his hand to strike me, Jared leaped from the shadows, grabbed is wrist, tore out his arm and used it to knife its former owner. All while combing his hair and preparing a delightful crab bisque for the residents of the 4th floor of Moore-Hill. Stunned I looked upon him in silence and then he bent down and said to me "I will consume all evil and excrete only good". Then he ate the killer's body and went into a stall.

From then on order was restored. Originally we started to sacrifice virgins to keep his protection. But he said it was unneccesary and that the girls in Littlefield were, in all actuallity, not even remotely virgin. Under the shadow cast by his mighty visage we toiled to rebuild our lives. Now, JT is president of the United States, Sean is the Pope, Keith was the first man to succesfully mate a Shitzu and a Bulldog, Austin is the most powerful drug dealer in Miami, and Tomas freed Tibet.

Jared left us as suddenly as he came to use a year later. No one knows where he went, but I like to think he is watching over us from wherever he is.

But now, he is returning. And a mighty blow of vengeance will be wrought upon his enemies.

Thwpth!

Ah Spider-Man...it's just been too long =-D. I have always, and will always, be a reader of comic books. Those of you outside of this little hobby won't understand this, but as of late my comic book reading has matured. I am opting for more interesting or experimental comics than the staples of my youth.

But no matter where I go in life. I will always read Spider-Man. 'Nuf Said.

Bad Ratios and High Costs

Oh the bleak transience of it all. Save for my immediate family, no one on God's green earth has a 5 year plan involving me. We are but a network of ancilliary characters in our respective narratives and it is heart breaking. Which connections will stick?

A wise man once told me that 80% of the material covered in high school will never come in handy, but that you cannot tell, at the time, what 20% will prove relavent in your life. I would imagine the same lesson holds for relationships. I guess I just have to value them all for the time being and see which ones will be at my 25th anniversary. I got a few in mind.

Hawd-Co!

Did you see that Chinese guy fling his partner half-way across the rink discus-style? And then she lands square on her knee from a spinning 14 feet in the air? And then the music stops and they take a look at her and she's all "Naw man, fuck that shit, we are doing this, push that bone back in, get your ass on the ice and fling me right this time nancy boy!" and then she goes out and wins a god damn silver metal? And then afterwards she has a bowl of galvanized nails for lunch and tears the limbs off of anti-communist journalists with her bear hands? Yeah, that chick was awesome, and graceful. Thats good Olympic times right there.

You gotta give props to the dude too, he skated with confidence even though he almost drove his partner through the ice like a railroad spike. And dude was ripped like Jin. That poor Russian bloke had quite a time regaining his footing after using his partner's head for a curling broom. And they got the Gold. I shiver with delight.

Conclusion: These figure skating women are hardcore.

Love, be not proud!

My first Valentine's Day alone since High School. Though all of the interim girlfriends haven't curried any outlandish expectations for Valentine's there is still the social pressure to perform. So disgusted was I with that state of affairs that I just boycotted the holiday entirely, sort of. You can't just ignore it completely, its just not done, it would be uncivilized, like the heathens.

Despite my stag status I found myself at a florist yesterday. Two flowers for Sarah and Anne, who, along with Dylan and myself, banded together for a faux-double date. Like a shore's cliff we stood against the sea of loneliness brought to swell and then break by the storm of the holiday. To scuttle with your expectations, we shouted in unison.

Actually we just went to Macaroni grill. Very little shouting was involved, and steadfast defiance was conspicuously absent from the evening. Add that two members of our lonely hearts club were either dating someone or have strong prospects for dating someone and the entire 'sea' metaphor seems to...ebb. What can I do? I don't surround myself by people that would have trouble finding love.

I, however, remain stalwart in my resolution to remain single until the end of the year. History, of course, doesn't look happily upon my will. A philanderer at heart and, despite my general hatred for the female half of the species and all social norms involving dating, a hopeless romantic I will at the very least suffer unrequited love by the year's end. Worry not, because these crushes are the roux of the Alfonso you know so well.

sidebar: After establishing and stating that a girl had to much of a Dickenson "my love left and so did my life" vibe and was likely a lesbian, I was told that I am not cultured enough to be as well read as I am. Thats /another/ weird comment about this particular personality aspect. I am growing angry at this. People, just with hold your comments.

The Ol' Alma Mater

Cheney shot someone! IN KINGSVILLE!!! It's nice to have my hometown in the news. I knew the Bushes hunted on armstrong ranch, and now the executive branch is shooting people there. =-D.


It's not funny...it really isn't, but it's just so damn hilarious.

Bad week? Houston.

Great, refreshing trip to Monica's. After a couple of horrid weeks it's just time to get away, y'know? I did manage to hurt/overstrain myself by climbing all over a tree in an attempt to prune it and then fallling off. My major muscles and back are all slathered in Icey/Hot! Jesus H. biscuit this shit is effective.

I'm keeping chipper though!

Recent events in my life have sucked; they have also opened my eyes to a disturbing truth. Take away my cell phone and internet connection and I am completely without the ability to contact anyone I know that isn't in the immediate room. With no IM, Email, or the phone book in my cell phone I am awash in a dark sea of isolation. This is a badness, I grok this in full now.

I have only 4 phone numbers memorized: My own, my parent's old number, my parent's current number and Sisi Chen's number from High school. Why that one? Because it's a very simple pattern of keystrokes. None of those are useful at all for immediate help in the Austin area as I was sternly taught by lockdown. So I am going to start memorizing phone numbers. Next time I am stripped naked and given a phone I will be able to call someone for help.

No communication is like death. Walking death.

Mustafa

It finally happened. I scoured the net for this particular neologism since I heard about those infernal Muhammad cartoons and the outcry they caused. Today I finally encountered my white whale, the term "Islamophobe" has been coined and used editorially to describe various Danish news figures. I'm not sure why I developed this particular obsession nor do I understand the nondescript satisfaction its resolution gave me.

God damn they are stupid and hipocritical. Leaving aside the facts that they have many depictions of The Prophet in their own art and regularly ridicule other religions in the exact format lets consider their goals: An apology and the revocation of the very principles Europe is founded on; ok, and the annihalation of all of us. I wonder if they actually think they are going to get anywhere pissing off all the world or are they raging blindly against percieved enemies to their religion? My guess is the latter because lets face it folks, no group is dumb enough for the former.

Also, what is the deal with world leaders "Calling for an end to the violence". Picture this playing out in Indonesia: "Rape and kill all the infidels who sully the name of our beloved Prophet, peace and blessing be on his name" - "Hey, Jacques Chirac called for an end to violence" - "Oh..shit, I just bought all these Danish flags....I guess I'll just make capri pants".

It doesn't seem feasible, does it? Your admonitions mean nothing, so STFU and protect your shit until they go away. Shmooze some Ismalic leaders, or give in, nothing else will make a lick of difference. Hell, they even liked Bush until he opened his damn mouth and called for an end to the violence. They're a bunch of ignorant hillbillies, deal with them as such.

You have to feel bad for the real Muslims hanging around. You know that cousin who always gets drunk and starts shit up with huge groups of burly men at bars and you have to deal with it since he is your cousin? Thats what these Muslims are dealing with, an alchoholic cousin with nothing to do but piss people off. So don't go harrassing Muslims that are protesting or marching or sitting in or not eating or whatever, we still like those people, and lets face it, those cartoons are damn offensive. I'd go help protest but I might get killed by Billy-Jo-Abbas, and I am lazy and really don't care.

Mami's Jailbird

My mom sent me a "Yay you're out of jail!" box. It had a box of valentine chocolates, an enamel mug, a harmonica, some gum (Mormon for Cigarettes), and a nail file.

I'm not sure, but I don't think having impeccably groomed nails would have helped me much... =-D.

Anyway, it was neat to get.

Joss Whedon is My Master Now

And Jimbo is a great present buyer.

Happy Birthday to Me

I began my 24th year today. I began it in the Williamson County jailhouse being booked by "Maggie". It's such a long story, and I am so tired that I just realized I don't want to type it out. I should mention Dylan and Sarah who were kind enough to figure out where I was and when I would be getting out so they could come, with a grand in bail money just in case, to my rescue. I should also mention Austin, who was my switchboard of communication. Yay good friends!