I was stretching my legs today at lunchtime when I saw what I can only describe as a gaggle of bicyclists: A collection of Lance Armstrong wannabes wearing spandex shorts so colorful that blind people were shielding their eyes, flying down the road, blowing off stop signs, cutting off cars, and otherwise acting like a bunch of fucking assholes. These are the pricks that will lecture people that they need to “share the road” with bicyclists, then get on that road and ignore every traffic law known to mankind. God, how I wish I drove a steamroller to work. Continue reading

I climbed a mountain yesterday. Seriously. Had you told me twenty years ago that I would climb a mountain, my twenty-something year old self would have asked you if they were giving away free drugs at the top. Unfortunately, they weren’t, because I could have used them today. My arms and legs feel like someone broke them off, used them to beat a wildebeest to death, then reattached them to my torso without using anesthetic. Who knew climbing a mountain would involve exertion? Continue reading

Those of you who may have followed the Bloggies most likely already know that I did not win the Best Writing of a Weblog award. This is because of a worldwide conspiracy of Anabaptists and people named Floyd, all of whom are hell bent on my destruction. Oh, and also I didn’t receive the most votes, which may had played a minor role. But that’s ok, because I am reaping rewards much greater than an invisible trophy and a check for $0.00: Email correspondence from total strangers. And we all know what happens when I get email from strangers… Continue reading

Usually, I can come up with a subject for any given post. Sure, I may then go off on a ridiculous tangent that involves drunken college depravity, stories about how my kids have managed to almost kill themselves this week, and musings on what kind of tampons Kenny Loggins uses, but I eventually circle back and… Wait, what was I talking about again? Gahh, stupid… thinking thing… Make me not think the… thing… Dammit! Be thinker! Continue reading

After lunch today, as I often do when the weather cooperates, I took a walk to stretch my legs, clear my head, and think up horribly offensive shit to post on this site. Because I work next door to a luxury resort, this walk is incredibly enjoyable: The grounds are always immaculately maintained, the property is surrounded by orange trees (which are currently in bloom), and more often than not the sun is gently beaming down on a perfect Arizona day. It was 80 degrees out, and I was rather enjoying myself when I walked into a spider web. Nothing will make you look like an escaped mental patient faster than walking into a spider web. Continue reading

Full screen, volume up motherfucker!

Sorry, no real post today. I’m setting up my site with chat capability so we can goof on horrible 70’s TV in a group environment. Stay tuned if you’d like to participate. Details will come out in the next day or two. In the meantime, Bob Guccione will answer your questions.

I hate when technology fucks me up. I realize that everyone hates that, but I really hate it. This is because I’m in IT (aka a computer guy, propeller-head, dork, etc.) There’s not a problem that can come up that I don’t think I can solve because of my awesome technical skillset. A live nuclear weapon could drop in my front yard with a digital timer counting backwards from 0:10, and while everyone else was hugging their loved ones before they turned to vapor, I’d be all, “Ok, relax. This weapon’s motherboard is probably running on a custom UNIX kernel, and if I can find a way to get myself into a sudo-enabled command prompt…” and that would be the last thought in my brain before it was blasted beyond Pluto’s orbit, because skillset or not, I’m a fucking idiot, but I think I can solve anything. Continue reading

Out of sheer boredom, or perhaps a sign of deepening insanity, I spent a bunch of time thinking about the old television show Fantasy Island today. For those of you too young to have seen it in prime time and too smart to have watched it in syndication, the show centered around a mysterious Latino man and his gay lover/dwarf who lived on an island that granted wishes to random assholes who flew to the island every Saturday night at 9:00. It should come as no surprise to learn that Fantasy Island went on the air in the 70’s. Continue reading

I went to the Phoenix Art Museum this weekend, and for a place that has so many paintings of nudes they’re surprisingly uptight about people showing up without clothes on. They also don’t let you play paintball inside. Hey, Phoenix Art Museum: You know why you have to resort to private donations to stay open? Because you need to lighten the fuck up, that’s why. Yes, those are my children, yes, they’re pretty young, and yes, I gave them Sharpies to play with. What of it? Continue reading