Game of Thrones

I'm reading George Martin's "Game of Thrones" right now and let me tell you, it's a page turner. I can't put the guy down. There are some prerequisites to liking the book.

1. It's hardcore fantasy. So it's a sweeping world with a cast of hundreds and a geography and a intricate history you must relegate yourself to becoming very conversant in.

2. There is a clear line of misogynism in the book. You need to be able to get over that.

3. The first half of the first book is basically the Numbers of Fantasy. The story progresses but you're, in reality, taking a course in Martin's little world.

Beyond that the story is absolutely gripping and Martin is adept at making you fall in love with his characters. I actually giggled in anticipation at one point. I highly suggest it to anyone looking for a good yarn.

For the love of God, do not read this.

Link sleeps soundly. Suddenly a disembodied voice like honey poured over thunder speaks, "LINK! ARISE AND MEET YOUR DESTINY, HERO".
Groggily Link. "Not now Reverend, I am but 2 hours asleep." he scolds.
"WHAT? NO, DOUCHE-NOZZLE, I AM SENT OF THE GODS TO CHARTER YOU WITH YOUR GREAT FATE"
"Thats what the Reverend said..."
"LOOK, LETS FORGET ABOUT THE REVEREND FOR NOW, OK?"
"Ok, where are you"
"DIFFERENT PLANE OF EXISTANCE, SEE, NOTHING CAN TRAVEL AT THE "SPEED OF LIGHT" SINCE THAT IS A RELATIVE TERM. THIS CASTS TIME IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT AS A 4 DIMENSION IN A UNIVERSE IN WHICH WE ARE ALL TRAVELING AT THE SAME SPEED. NOW IF YOU TAKE THE SMALLEST PARTICLE OF CREATION..."
"Forget it, can you just ass-rape me so I can go to sleep"
"UH, WHAT? NO, EW, WHAT? WHATS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU NEED TO SAVE HYRULE. THATS WHY I AM HERE, TO GET YOU ALONG YOUR WAY..
"Kind of a Joseph Smith thing..right, see I don't really think I believe in your "Gods" so whatever you think they want me to do isn't any of my concern since they don't exist."
"DON'T BELIEVE? YOU'RE HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH A DISEMBODIED, AND SEXY, VOICE. WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED, YOU TWAT?
"I'm a man of science, so I believe what I see. Maybe if you weren't disembodied you'd actually exist and I would go off and kill the Muslims or whatever you want me to do"
"SO, YOU DON'T BELIEVE I EXIST?"
"Exactly, I am merely insane. It's the only explanation that makes sense"
"LOOK, I'M SORRY WHOEVER TOUCHED YOU WHEREVER OR WHATEVER HAPPENED..."
"Happens"
"HAPPENS, RIGHT, WHATEVER, BUT YOU NEED TO GO SAVE THE FUCKING WORLD FROM EVIL."
"How do you define evil, voice in my head? Evil deeds, when viewed in the light of motive, can suddenly seem pure and good. And also..."
"OMFG! IT'S EVIL, TRUST ME. SCREW THIS, I'LL GO FIND SOME OTHER 7 YEAR OLD TO SAVE THE PRINCESS."
"Princess?"
"PRINCESS."
"t'she look like?"
"LOOKING UPON HER VISAGE IS LIKE BEING FELLATED BY PLEASURE HIMSELF"
"Nice image there, are you gay?"
"NO! I HATE GAYS..WITH THEIR...GAYNESS, ALL GAY AND SHIT"
"Heh, ok, you're straight as an arrow. I'm in, but I have no money to my name"
"ONCE I SAW THIS GUY IN THE GYM...I'M PRETTY SURE HE WAS A GAY HOMOSEXUAL SO I GRABBED HIS ASSCHEEKS AND PULLED UP REALLY HARD, Y'KNOW...TO PUNISH HIM FOR BEING AN ABOMINATION UNTO NATURE...I WONDER WHAT HE IS DOING RIGHT NOW..."
"Yo God, or whatever, I need money for my seige d'poontang"
"RIPPED LIKE JESUS...."
"Who?"
"MY GARDNER..YOU COULD GRATE CHEESE ON HIS ABS....BUT THAT IS NEITHER HERE NOR THERE."
"I'm pretty sure it's somewhere... so money?"
"NOT A PROBLEM, THE GODS WILL PROVIDE AN UNLIMITED AMOUNT OF COIN"
"Really? Where?"
"OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES. JUST GO IN AND SMASH ALL THEIR POTTERY AND STEAL THEIR TREASURE. GRAB A CHICKEN OR TWO WHILE YOU'RE THERE. OH, BE SURE TO DESTROY THEIR BUSHES AS WELL. SOME OF THOSE VILLAGERS ARE SAVVY"
"...you...you want me to rob all my neighbors?"
"WHY NOT, YOU'RE CHARTERED BY THE GODS ON A HOLY MISSION."
"but...what if they call the guards on me?"
"KILL THEM"
"WHAT?!?! I can't do that..they're the King's men"
"OK, MR. BLEEDING HEART, THEN JUST RUN WHEN YOU GET CAUGHT STEALING EVERYONE'S MONEY, LETS SEE HOW THAT WORKS OUT MANDELA."
"What if I get hurt"
"GOTCHA COVERED, WHEN YOU KILL A GUARD, OR AN ANIMAL, OR AN INNOCENT BYSTANDER, BE SURE TO CUT OUT AND EAT THEIR HEARTS. THAT WILL GIVE YOU THE STRENGTH YOU NEED"
"...?"
"DID YOU CATCH THAT, YOU NEED TO CARVE OUT PEOPLES' HEARTS AND EAT THEM TO MAINTAIN YOUR STRENGTH"
"I...I don't think...is that..."
"LOOK, YOU WANT TO SURVIVE THE QUEST RIGHT?"
"I...if.."
"EXACTLY! SO GO AHEAD AND FIND A GUARD OUTSIDE, KILL HIM AND EAT HIS HEART, YOU'LL SEE, IT'S FUN"

Lookup Azn on Xanga

it's me again...lolz..at another different time to udate...im broed...there's lik nothin to do...i have no1 2 talk 2 on aim.....grrr.this suks...lolz. OMG me erin n brit saw like a billion movies this weekend, ur never gonna believe brit was totally being like a move hitler but not reli. I h8 the weather!! i wanted 2 go 2 the beach. O wellz ill update for reals yo. laterz tho right now gotsta go, bie!

Things I don't do anymore .= "Read a random blog"

Hypoglycemic

They caught on. I am coding at work now, and lo and behold, I am going in early tommorrow to bang out an idea I had on the shitter.

On the same vein, bike sport shop did not hire me. They cited their need for a full-time, long-term employee rather than a part time, not so long-term employee. The guy said I was plenty qualified and that if I want to do full-time to call him up. Consolation? Who knows?

Bought a phone and made a funnel cake today....

...

Delayed like a Muthafucka

Seattle was great. Everyone I wanted to spend time with made an appearance and then some. I forget how much I enjoy Jim's house. It's truly a playground of epic porportions. Oh, and Jim is cool too.

Why does the airplane go completely spaz just before take off? Because nothing inspires confidence in the equipment your life depends on like flickering lights, erratic beeping and the A/C turning off and on repeatedly, right? It's like sitting in an end scene from Friday the 13th 15: "Freddy goes Flying". If all of that stuff happened while in flight, the cabin populace would go 100% Godzilla-is-coming ape-shit.

It seems to me that if we, mankind in general, can conquer the skies why can't we keep the intrument of that very conquest from going sporadically dark?

Flying out of Seattle is fun. It's fun because of Seattle's renowned overcast sky. It makes the first part of your flight seem like a metaphor for some epic hero's story. The taxi across the tarmac would represent the Hero's classic conflict, then the take off made rough by wind and rain could be the first battle at the threshold of his odyssee, then the ascent is the journey to the hold of the antagonist. Once you enter the the clouds of the overcast you enter the climactic battleground where our hero slays the beast. And the best part is the when you burst out of the overcast like a cartoon mermaid into the clear sunny skies of our spoils, ideally set to some homestead aubade.

I wanna fly away

Sometimes a man just needs to drink alone. One of those times is when he is traveling alone. I've grown fond of having a couple of cocktails in the airport bar during my layovers. In any other scenario throwing two cocktails down my considerable gullet is as useful as a skydiver's helmet, but at 20,000 feet my fort-like constitution wanes significantly. So I throw back my slugs just before I board the craft and take my seat.

I don't know if you've ever seen at 6 and a half foot, 250 pound man try to fit himself into a seat that was clearly designed for an anorexic 6 year old girl who was born without her femurs, but it's a tight squeeze to say the least. It's not unlike trying to put your tent back into the bag it came from; it provably fits according to coleman's on staff theoritical physicists, but in the real world you're gonna have half of that tent hanging out the top of that back, looking like a nylon cornucopia. Once I lock myself into the only position available to me I can't move for the rest of the 5 hour flight because if I move one inch in absoluetly any direction someone is getting an elbow in their kidney or morning-wooded in the small of their back. So I sit straight up with my hands in my lap like a Victorian Lady shitting in a public bathroom. And I suffer discomfort for all 5 hours.

But thats not how it goes. See because I have 2 cocktails in my belly plotting together to bring awkward conversation and uncomfortable touches to all around me. I still think I am sober when that scary flight attendant with her hair pulled to tightly back that gaurds the first class curtain like a bouncer announces that the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. Now, I already knew he turned off that light because the light turned off you dumb bitch, while I'm at it I don't need to be told how to put a seatbelt on you condescending whore...

Anyway, I am under the impression that I am as sober as Mass when I get up to use the bathroom. I don't actually need to use the bathroom and I know I don't actually fit in that empy pocky box with a hole but I've sat still for the last 20 minutes and I'm getting antsy.

Here's where the fun starts, because upon getting up my body decides it's high time to inform me that it is blasted beyond coherent motor skills. When I get back to my seat suddenly I am not so sure I care about my neighbor's discomfort and maybe I want to hear their life story. So put down your copy of "Love Uncorralled" baby, he can cleave her nethers with his velvet rock shaft some other time, I wanna know what makes you tick.

This process has served me well. I've gotten an interview offer, I've met the CEO of Vignette in Austin, and talked to an old lady who worked at xerox during the golden times. So tommorrow I go forth to see what horizons I will find. =-D

The Issues

I went to see Flight of The Conchords last night at Emo's. Turned out they were with that Comedians of Comedy show and 5 comedians were doing their acts. Some were bad, some were Goddamned hilarious. But the Flight of the Conchords only did 3 songs! Each was a golden nugget of angel fart, but there were only 3. Shame.

Patton Oswalt did a bit that hurt. Y'know when your older sister is holding you down and tickling you and at first it's just tickling but she doesn't stop and at some point you're entire respitory system is collapsing within you and the whole thing becomes a desperate bid for your life? I was damn near laughing that hard.

Deja

I just opened a new Eclipse project at work. That made me giggle in my pants. The project's name ended in "ToXml". That made my head explode.

I've made a huge mistake

I opened up The-Leaky-Cauldron for the first time since HBP came out. I'm starting the obsession a little early this book around, I loathe to imagine what I will be like in a year or so.

Well...of to read book 1.

Ouch

I have a new "worst bike crash ever" now. It happened down at the greenbelt. After flying down a 20' incline I leaned forward to get some peddling going. I wanted to built a lot of momentum because I was heading into a dry creek bed covered in loose stones. Unfortunately I failed to notice the 1 foot drop right after the incline and hit it with my weight far forward. Clearly a recipe for disaster.

After I endo'ed I lay on my stomach and right arm with the wind completely knocked out of me. Everyone has had the wind knocked out of them, so you know what comes next. I drag my body around in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position and gasp like a fish out of water. Finally I get the presence of mind to lie on my back and breath deep. After that I started to feel my right arm to check for breaks and what not, it was in a large amount of pain. My wrist was swelling such that my right hand became paralyzed and there was a gash on my elbow that was bleeding a lot more than seemed necessary. I pulled my left hand back from inspection, convinced that my arm would be fine, and endeavoured to whistle to get Austin back; but as I mentioned earlier my whistle hand was unable to move of it's own accord. So I took my left hand, now covered in my blood, and used it to coerce my right hand into position in my mouth for whistling.

Unfortunately I had just knocked the wind out of myself and the first few attempts at blowing resulted in what I can only call fellating my injured hand. The image is actually comical when you think about it.

By the time Austin got back I was in control of my breathing again and able to make a full analysis of my pain, nothing serious at all, Gracias a Dios.

My bike was fine too, which is really the only thing you worry about after a crash with no injuries. So all in all it was a neat little wreck. I regained composure and hopped back on the bike for the rest of the return trip.

I'm pretty sure the gash would have benefited greatly from stitches; it was a wide gash. But it was small enough that I decided to just give it some primitive first aid, and the bleeding finally stopped fully last night when I cleaned and redressed it. I can already tell you the shape of my new scar.

Beef

On June 2 I will have lived in Austin for 5 years. I feel that such a figure establishes me firmly as a "local"; a title I wear proudly when I take out of staters on the local's tour of Austin. I am familiar with the various parks; intimately familiar with some of them, as I have flown face first into their rocky paths. I know my way around and have eaten at the majority of the restaurants. I've worked /all over/ the city, studied at the university, been to a huge number of concerts, complained about the heat, loved the thunderstorms, biked the commuter's routes, been to SXSW, ACL, and Bikes for Kids, seen the bats, walked the trail of lights, enjoyed Mt. Bonnell (daytime only), seen an express game, been to the Paramount, Zach Scott and PAC for performances, met Leslie, found a moon tower, been in a couple of movies, watched UT play A&M and OU, loved, lost and lived. There is even a bar in the reputable 6th street where I am known to bartenders and bouncers.

I had never been to the Saltlick though, until last night. All I can say is that was way to much meat for one sitting. I'm sick to the stomach and my poors are seeping grease...but it was just soo worth it!

Dum Dum Diddy!

I won't be coming back to Motive, I don't believe. They pulled the ol' bait and switch on yours truly. Where they said "you'll be working in java, and python" they meant "if you ever touch java or python while at work we will kill everyone you ever really loved". And so I find myself, finally, amongst the millions of disaffected developers in the world today. Perhaps disaffected isn't the correct word. Disillusioned seems to fit the bill. There have been wayward promises of a future with coding in it, but I remain cynical. Perhaps I'm just paying some dues before I get to do what I do best and love. Further bulletins as events warrent.

I've decided to put employment on the back burner and go the student loan route for my last semester at UT. I also have a standing offer to work at the CS shop in Taylor. It's good, sweaty work and is on campus. The only reason I am not doing it now is that it is a work study deal and I need to get my fafsa in order before I can begin there.

I'm also applying to Bike Sport Shop again. I have no clue how one breaks into the world of paid wrenches, but I'll crack that nugget at some point. The shop manager felt he needed to inform me that the pay would not be competitive with tech industry pay. I had a feeling that would be the case. I think it'd be neat to work there during Bikes For Kids, which, I imagine, is their form of "Crunch Time".

Speaking of bikes, I just did my first hydraulic disc-brake bleed on my bike. In the end it turns out my diagnoses of the problem was incorrect and I wasted 20 bucks, but the bleed went very well and now I have that under my belt. That along with truing a rotor and adjusting calipers. So now my back break is tight like I like it. During our ride at walnut this weekend the back brake was just not performing. It was actually a little scary going down some of the hills only slightly sure I could stop without flying over my handle bars.

Made

The more evidence I gather the more I realize that a boy's first crush is based on physical characteristics. This is almost without exception. That has to be salient in some conversation somewhere.

Fuckity Fuck Fuck

I was hungry. I wanted cookies. A lot of warm, gooey, delicious cookies. In Austin, at 10:00pm the answer to that very question is calling Tiffany's Treats out by campus. So I did, I ordered a dozen, half chocolate chip, have snickerdoodle. If you've never had a snicker doodle from Tiff it is tantamount to losing your virginity in baked form, with cinamon on top. Think back to losing your virginity...wouldn't it have been better with cinamon? I think so.

But on the way to get the treats Dylan and I got jimmy johns for a billy club and I wound up drinking a guinness. So now I am full...I think you can see the irony I am dealing with here....

Anything else would be uncivilized.

Has anyone given this little idiom a second thought? It occurs to me that the its adopted interpretation and literal meaning are antithetical in comical ways. Someone who is unfamiliar with what I'll just call our culture would hear some one declare this and think he is proclaiming himself the very edge of what could possibly considered civilized. Proudly he stands the missing-link vanguard at the threshold of society and absolute social entropy. Literal examples include an outdoor latrine, public fornication (behind a bush), and, acordding to this commercial, White Zinfandel.

So, in true exclusionary form, if you shit and fuck wherever the mood strikes, you are /not/ qualified to partake of White Zin.