Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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there’s aardbarks up in there

Finely tuned scientific equipment.
I dunno if it was just laziness or what, but we were all supposed to go see another show tonight (Pretty Girls Make Graves, right here in Sac) – and I bailed. Mostly because Sharaun had a late meeting at school and wouldn’t be getting home until 8ish – and I knew she’d be tired from her 2hrs sleep last night. I just felt the evening would be better served if we just crashed on the couch and hung out with each other. So, we did. She picked up some Mexican on her way home – and we ate our dinner out of styrofoam boxes while watching the season finale of the OC. Well, I watched it at least – she fell asleep about halfway through. Which is good, because it’d be awful embarrassing if she’d seen me bawling as Marissa hit that bottle of vodka. What have you done Ryan?, what have you done?!

Dan (the same guy who’s insinuated in the comments that the blog has, or is about to, “jump the shark” – punk) has been taking karate lessons for a while. While he was telling me all about what he’s learned, which thus far has been limited to defense moves, I got an idea. See, I’ve always been curious about how effective karate lessons really are. I mean, I’m led to believe that a black belt in karate could kick my butt. But what about the karate noob? How much better are your defense skills for a couple month’s lessons? So, Dan and I devised a plan. I will attack him with all I’ve got – no holds barred street-brawl-ignorant fighting. Just a hail of fists and throwing my weight around. During my furious assault, Dan can only use the defenses and blocks that karate has taught him. This way, we see if karate is real. I know, totally scientific, right? We figured there’d probably need to be some beer involved – just to loosen up the muscles and improve mental focus… and video documentation couldn’t hurt.

In high school, I was messing around with the tape recorder one day and figured out I could wire the microphone input directly into the earpiece of the phone. This inevitably led to the tape recording of prank phone calls. In the beginning, it was simply a few guys sitting around drinking, smoking (cough, cough), and recording prank phone calls. But shortly after our first 90min compilation tape, “Volume One,” made it’s way around school – each “recording session” became a small party. More and more people heard our pranks and wanted to be around when “Joey Cora” and “Pete Metacalf” made the calls. Over the course of a couple years, we made so many prank phone calls we couldn’t count them all. After each “session,” it was my job to edit down the resulting hours of calls into the best and funniest for inclusion in the next “Volume” of calls. We ended up with four 90min cassettes, Volumes One through Four, and one 45min unedited tape dubbed the “sober session.”

The goal was always to be as stupid as possible, to see how much people would put up with. There was always an unwritten rule that you should try to cram in as much foul language as possible – because everyone knows cussing is comedy gold. Often the calls were so thick with our stupid sense of humor and drunken notions of jokes that they were only side-splittingly funny to us, but listening back on some of them I still get a laugh. The dumber the response from the people on the other line, the bigger the kick we got out of it. The angrier and uglier you could be right off the bat, the better. It’s amazing what people are willing to put up with, especially when you can clearly hear several kids just cracking up in the background.

Although I’ve never fully converted the Volumes to CD, a few years ago I began a project to digitize them all and give copies to the prank crew for Christmas. I never got finished, mainly because we don’t own a cassette deck – but I did get the whole of Volume One ripped to CD. While working on the GDM project last night I happened upon the raw CD rips. So, I decided to clean up a couple calls an turn them into MP3s. So, here – for the first time on the ‘net – some samples of our first prank calls. I estimate that Volume One was made sometime in 1992, and you can tell we were just warming up. Some of the stuff on Volume Four puts this stuff to shame. Anyway, for your listening pleasure:

[audio:SCUBA_tanks.mp3]
SCUBA Tanks

[audio:Fireplace.mp3]
Didn’t Catch on Fire Like a Fireplace

[audio:Gold.mp3]
I Have an Allergic Reaction to Gold?!

[audio:Aardbarks.mp3]
There’s Aardbarks Up In There

That’s if for today folks, I’m outta here. Enjoy.

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not everyone can smell sneezes?

As bad as farts, I swear.
Sick day yesterday. Stayed home to recuperate. Partially from this bug that I’ve got, partially because I foolishly stayed up through 2am the night before. Anyway, the combo of both was too much to bear, so I shot out a “I’m sick” mail and did my work/meetings from home.. bare-chested with the windows open and Andy Griffith on the TiVo. And, if you promise not to tell my boss – I even managed to triumph over my illness and sneak a quick lawn-mowing in between meetings. Forever the rebel.

Last night was another late night, after DCfC and Ben Kweller at the Fillmore, don’t think my head hit the pillow until 2am. Bummer, because it made the 6:45am alarm sound even more taunting than usual. But, I made it.. and am now happily giving another day to the man. It was a good show though, and we once again demonstrated excellent timing – showing up just in time to see the mediocre opening act (The Thermals) exit and Ben Kweller take the stage. We were delayed a bit because Anthony drove, and crashed into a tow-truck on the highway. We had to exit, at which point we were surrounded by four tow-trucks, boxing us in from every side as if they had deemed us “high risk for flight” or something. The tow-truck driver made a big stink about filing a report so we had to wait for the CHP to come and whatnot. Stupid. Neither vehicle was damaged, the guy was just a jerk.

So, apparently not everyone can smell sneezes? When did this happen? Ben and I happened to be talking the other day about how much sneezes stink – only to receive blank stares from the other people in the room. They actually thought we were daft for suggesting that sneezes have a smell. Well, let me tell you – they do, and it’s nasty. You guys really can’t smell them? Must be nice, because they are nauseating. I’m not talking about your own sneezes, but the sneezes of others. I guess I have been blessed with this superpower.

I got nothing, I’m outta here. I’ll write a proper entry for tomorrow later tonight.

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the familiar halfhearted midnight trip

Tim Leary says I should drop out.
I’m totally gonna build a “dream machine.” It’s this thing that this dude from the 50’s invented which supposedly can be used to induce hallucinations (read: epileptic seizures). Basically, it’s just a rotating cardboard tube with a lightbulb inside that makes the light pulse at the same rate as your brain’s alpha-waves? which apparently makes you trip balls. Sounds about as awesome as bananadine.

We got this funny note on our doorstep the other day, and thought I’d share it because it really made me laugh. It’s typed up and printed on a multicolored inkjet printer all professional-like. See, this lady, Inna, wants to be our housekeeper? and she’s distributing these fliers to let us know she wants our business. “ARE YOU SEEKING RESPONCIBLE ,ORGANISED HOUSE CLEANER? YOU GOT IT!” Shouts the bold red text on the top of the page. “INNA IS ENERGETIC HOUSEKEEPER WITH LARGE JANITORIAL EXPERIENCE.” Really?! Tell me more! “INNA IS GOOD ON HER HANDS.” Wha? “INNA WILL BE RESPONCIBLE FOR GENERAL LABOR DUTIES TO KEEP YOUR HOUSE CLEAN.” Sweet! “SHE WILL SWEEPING, SCRUBBING, MOPPING, REMOUVING REFUSE, CLEANING LAVATORIES, SHOWERS OR RESTROOMS.” She will?! Oh boy! “INNA WILL KEEP YOUR HOUSE. IF INTERESTED PLEAS CALL.” Inna will keep my house? Umm.. no thanks Inna. Inna need spellcheck, bad. Sorry Inna.

Whoa, you know what’s weird? Inna might have spellcheck, because when I just ran it – it didn’t flag any of the misspelled words I transcribed from Inna’s note in the above paragraph. Strange.

Anyway, the weekend was good. I’ve been feeling rather ill lately, so I didn’t do any taxing work in the backyard this weekend – which means the sprinkler-awaiting trenches currently crisscrossing our backyard are still pining for PVC. Owell, one weekend lost, what’s the damage really? Saturday I decided to do absolutely nothing during the day. And, I mean nothing. I sat in front of this computer for most of the day – after doing about of “house cleaning” on the TiVo. Catching up on some Andy Griffith, Simpsons, and Scrubs. Then I just sat here and ripped CDs? all day. Got over 40 done by the time evening rolled around and it was time to celebrate Melissa’s birthday. By celebrate I mostly mean a drunken dinner party at our house, capped off by the familiar halfhearted midnight trip to the local pub for one last beer in some attempt to say we really “went out.”

Sunday I was feeling pretty bad, but decided to make a go at it by heading to the river with the crew. I didn’t go in the water, due to my sickness, but I did have a great time lounging in the sun and watching people wakeboard. If there’s one thing I did learn this weekend, it’s that beer doesn’t cure a cold – not that I didn’t try, but it just doesn’t work.

At one point on the boat Sunday I invented a new sitting position. I sat backwards on the back seat, with my back propped against the engine thing? so I was looking directly out the back of the boat, my feet dangling over the ski platform. If I laid my head back I could look up at the passing sky and riversides, and just see the two other backseat passengers out of the corners of my vision. I sat like that for an hour or so while we tugged people around and made our way downriver. Just sat there staring up at the sky listening to music, bouncing my feet and signing along loudly. Maybe it was the beer, but it was awesome. It’s just so “nothing’s going on” that I love it. I’m pretty sure people were laughing at me, but hey, that’s always the goal right?

Nothing more. Dave out.

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freeze-camping

It's a GIS for "writer's block."
I guess I just haven’t had much time to write, and there’s been so much going on in my head. I keep thinking of fun things to write about, but keep running out of time to write them down. Hopefully now I’ll have a little more time to keep up with things, it was just an insane weekend… really.

So yeah. A long, and well received, weekend. Paintball on Friday, freeze-camping and hiking in the snow in Yosemite on Saturday and Sunday, and a Sacramento-to-Oakland yacht trip on Monday. I learned I like bloody marys, Sharaun and I took shelter from the snow under a rock, I found out I’m either OK at, or got lucky at, paintball, and I’ve still got it. Indeed, it was a fine weekend. Being so busy, the blog suffered some. I don’t really mind though, as it was nice to have an extended break from writing – gives me a chance to build up something to actually write about.

You know how some people change the letters on the back of their pickup trucks to say things like “toy” or “yo” instead of Toyota? Well the other day I pulled up to a Ford F150 Lariat Edition at a stoplight. I was thinking, if you took off the ‘T’ and completed the bottom round of the capital ‘R,’ you could make it the F150 “LABIA” edition. That cracked me up for a good minute or so.

More better to come this week, I promise. Dave out.

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guitars and falsetto voices

Throw 'em up! Throw 'em up ya'll! What what. When I say ho you say ho... ugh...
Gonna be a short one, no time to write last night so I’m cobbling something together now. Things are at ludicrous speed in preparation for my Taiwan trip next week, I’ve got to generate a lot of material for the trip, and it ain’t gonna happen unless I keep a pretty tight schedule.

In the throes of our refi, dealing with appraisers and brokers and whatnot. Conversing with neighbors about the seemingly too-good-to-be-true appreciation rates, it’s all so grown-up. Mowing lawns and planting trees and cleaning, I’ve become suburban Joe America. If I end up cooking burgers on the grill in the backyard while the kids and dog play in the sprinklers, my conversion to a 50’s sitcom stereotype will finally be complete.

Man was I wrong about the show last night. For some reason, I thought we were going to see N.E.R.D open for the Roots. Turns out the Roots weren’t even playing – I still have no idea where I got that from. Not only that, N.E.R.D. was the headliner, and the Black Eyed Peas opened for them. My first rap concert. Clipse opened the entire show, playing some of the radio staple “drink alcohol, smoke marijuana, spend and make lots of money, and be sure to have lots of sex all the time” tunes I expect from rap. But the BEP and N.E.R.D. were different, each with a real backing band and the stage presence so sorely absent from the Clipse entourage. The tone of the show changed from “look at me rap I’m so rich and I just had sex with your girlfriend,” to “we’re here to entertain you and have a good time.” Anyway, above all – it was still a rap show, and I am still not that big a fan of rap. N.E.R.D. is more rock than anything, and both they and the BEP were entertaining enough. But for some reason I just can get into them like I can a bunch of nerdy dudes with guitars and falsetto voices. Go figure.

We didn’t end up getting home until around 2:30am, which means Sharaun got only 2hrs sleep before waking up for work. I wonder if we consciously hold our pee while we sleep? Dave out.

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the first green thing

It's OK to be scared.
I found this site to be absolutely amazing. It contains a pictorial play-by-play from a young Ukrainian woman’s motorcycle ride through the irradiated areas surrounding Chernobyl. She has some kind of clearance in order to get to the areas in the photos, and carries a small radiation meter with her. Even though the English isn’t perfect, you can tell this woman writes well. Such a sad story, and even today the details aren’t fully known. The Soviet Union was too proud to let the world know how bad things were. Anyway, check out the site, the last few pages at the kindergarten are almost too much. Poor people. As usual, the free online encyclopedia Wikipedia has an excellent entry on the Chernobyl disaster, and some links near the bottom to more pictures from the 4000sq. mi. “dead zone.”

Every time I drive by large office buildings at night, I always try to glance in the ever-lit windows. Something is fascinating about looking into an empty office building that’s still lit like it’s the working hours. Every time I do catch myself staring through the night into a lit and empty cubicles, I find myself looking for two people doing it on a desk. No really – I look because one day, I will catch two late-night employees getting some office-booty on the boss’ desk. Just like if I always look at closed garage doors with lit garages inside, I’ll eventually witness a stabbing-in-silhouette. If I keep my nighttime office-window and garage door vigil, I know one day I’ll see a clandestine affair or Rear Window murder.

Friday night Sharaun and I decided not to answer the phone, and to have a night to ourselves. It was great. Not that our phone rings off the hook or that we’re ever the social butterflies, but it is nice to just ignore the world and enjoy one and other for a little. We cooked a pizza and headed out to catch the remake of Dawn of the Dead. The movie was cool, good campy horror – albeit a little overly blood-soaked. Even though you could basically take the plot of Maximum Overdrive, replace the machines-gone-wrong with the rabid zombies of 28 Days Later, and you’d have this flick. Not saying it’s bad, just tried and true horror. And I’m serious about the Maximum Overdrive thing too – there’s an unlikely armory, a quest through sewers, and a last-ditch flight to an island.

Our trip to the movies on a Friday night really made me feel really old. If you don’t know, the movie theater on a Friday night is like the sole oasis in the teenybopper desert. The place was simply crawling with 15 year old girls with bare midriffs, doggedly pursued and ogled by pants-saggin’, crooked-ballcapped boys. It becomes instantly evident that none of these kids are here for movies. This is simply a convenient place for the teen masses to come together to talk, flirt, and hold “look at me” contests.

Am I really that old? I mean, I found myself walking by large herds of these giggly, too-cool-for-everything teens and just resenting them for being there. I had to physically restrain myself from wagging my index finger at the young whippersnappers as I passed. Ugh. Has it really come to this? Honestly though, during the movie we sat in the midst of these punks. They talk, answer phone calls, run up and down the aisles, talk back to the movie, and totally make me want to throttle them. Lord, I know I was exactly like these kids; I know it. No wonder old people hate teenagers, they ask for it. Yeah, so I’m exaggerating – but not by much. If there is such a thing as karma though, teenagers will wreak massive amounts of havoc on me, because I’m cosmically owed it.

Moving on, the rest of the weekend was good. Saturday we helped move Melissa into her new place as Anthony’s roommate. It was OK, except for the part where Anthony left my cellphone on the back of the truck, causing it to fall out in transit and be run over by multiple cars. Some kind person driving next to us informed us of the cell phone incident, and we pulled over to pick up the pieces. Surprisingly, the thing still works – so I was able to transfer off all my data. Now all that’s left is to get a new phone and upload my data and SIM card, and I’ll be back running.

Sunday I spent working around the house. I planted this beautiful Japanese maple that Pat gave me. Pat and Cynthia recently joined the new homeowners club, and this potted tree was a holdover from the previous owner. They decided they didn’t want the tree, which due to it’s health and size is likely worth several hundred dollars, and they donated it to my barren backyard. It’s the first green thing in my backyard that’s intentionally growing, and it looks great. I also mowed my lawn with Anthony’s lawnmower. I had to use Anthony’s lawnmower because I snapped the fastening nut on the blade of mine while trying to remove the dull blade. So, off to the repair shop goes the mower. On another note, I’ve decided to just throw money away for a while. Who needs it?

Tonight Sharaun gets paybacks for all the crappy shows I’ve dragged her to by making me accompany her to see N.E.R.D. and the Roots in San Fran. I’m not too terribly excited, but I am interested to see what a “hip hop” concert is like compared to the indie freak fests I’m used to. Hopefully we won’t get shot.

Dave out.

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humping invisible sticks

You are standing in an open feild west of a white house, with a boarded front door. There is a mailbox here.
I love Zork. I even once started making my own text adventure game using the wonderful and free TADS system. I got one brilliant room finished before I lost interest. I’d like to try again one day, yeah. If you’ve never played Zork before, you are not a true computer nerd. This online Java version even supports saving and loading of game states so you can play anywhere and take your progress with you. Beware though, you can get addicted pretty quick.

Today I am not at work, I’m at home and it’s awesome. I took a vacation day since the drywall guy was coming out to do some repair work for my home warranty. Turns out he was a really nice guy, and took pity on me when I showed him my poorly-repaired laundry room ceiling. You know, where Wes put his foot through? Anyway, in addition to fixing the warranty items he came out for, he fixed the laundry room ceiling for $40 cash. Beats the $150 minimum charge that most drywall guys charge. And now he’s gone and I have the rest of the day to myself. I told myself last night that I would use some of this time to get some cleaning done around the house, but that hasn’t happened yet.

I migrated Sharaun’s PC to the freeware program last night, and moved my own one step closer by swapping a hacked Norton AntiVirus for the free AVG. No more stealin’. Oh, except for mp3s? I will “steal” those forever. Right now I download on average about 7 gigs a month of mp3, they have their own external 120GB drive to live on. Granted some gets tossed out once I learn it’s crap – but I keep the majority of it. Sometimes I download stuff I know I won’t like, just because there’s so much bustle about it online.

For instance, in general I’m not a hip-hop fan at all. Now, I do make the occasional exception – I loved Jay Z’s Black Album and Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, for instance. But for the most part I pass on the hip and the hop. (Oh, and don’t bother with the Grey Album folks – it’s mostly hype). But when I saw Pitchfork give Madvillain’s new album the uber-rare 9+ rating and call it “inexhaustibly brilliant” while daring me to find “a better hip-hop album this year,” I had to try it out. So, I grabbed it (no, I don’t use P2P and I’m not a’scared of the RIAA, get on the NNTP train people). Surprisingly, I like it. The beats are intricate and the Carlinesque 7-words style filth that so dominates mainstream rap and hip-hop is completely, and thankfully, missing. Granted, it’s chock full of marijuana imagery? but what undie hip hop isn’t? Imagine, songs with beats and rhymes not about “humping invisible sticks” and “sweat dripping down balls.” This album reminds me of the stuff we’d pick up after reading about it in the back of High Times, you know – the purple-haze-days of Dr. Octagon and Y’all So Stupid. What?! Rap sucks.

The weekend calls me away, I’m out.