December 2003 Archives

Except without the jungle gym, or physical players, and this one has judges...you get the idea.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that the next round of the King of the Blogs tournament has officially begun. Continuing with the tradition of shameless self promotion, I get to answer a Challenge Question if I am to make it into the Thrifty Three. Um, so unlike the NCAA Basketball tournament, I am unable to come up with a nice alliteration. Sigh. Perhaps then, given my recent failure at literary supremacy, I think I will hand things over to everyone's favorite guest writer, Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder. Take it away Thor.

*ahem*

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First, before the Mighty Thor can answer the question, the question must be itself presented, behold!

We all know flattery works, well it does at the King of the Blog Tournament also. Your job is to write an advertising piece that includes reasons to visit each of the judges and the host, and why you feel as King of the Blogs you can help them each get more hits and readers. Also pointing out why your worthy adversaries are not able to do this would be advised.

Well, thankfully the Mighty Thor is not beyond shameless self-promotion and flattery (or talking in the third person), so let's get right down to business.

Advertisement:

People of Earth. I do not often find it necessary to communicate to you directly, but this is an urgent matter that requires your utmost attention. The internet is a vast wasteland of inane drivel and useless opinions, but I am here to say that gems can be found. Indeed, the gems that sparkle most brightly are those closely associated with the King of the Blogs Tournament. While most cretins are willing to suffocate the Information Superhighway with despicable excuses for web sites, the King of the Blogs and associated Judges have displayed the highest capacity for intelligent and humorous writing.

As God of Thunder, I promise that your displayed devotion to these sites will be reciprocated with plentiful rains upon your harvest fields. Your family will rise in social and financial status as the fruits of your labor are multiplied beyond what anyone has ever witnessed.

Woe to you who ignore these sites! Your lands will be consumed with drought, relieved only with sufficient floods as to destroy your livelihood. Your children will also be frightened tremendously by my awesome thunder, and your dogs will howl incessantly, driving you and your household to madness. Woe is he that does not heed my advice, for he shall be smoted with all my wrath!

Thor Testosticlese has spoken!

End Advertisement.

Well, if that was perhaps not enough to convince you that I would serve you best as the King of the Blogs, perhaps it would behoove me to illustrate a few more points.

First of all, you should note that the humble author of this site, Andy Lee, has sent the second most visitors to the King of the Blogs website. He is second, of course, only to ChristWeb, but I am sure with a little coaxing of Andy (and a little smiting on the other end), he will quickly become the top referrer to your site.

Secondly, his readers are most devoted fans, who will willingly spread the news about your site, essentially earning you, the benefactor, an exponential return on your investment. You may look at his little site and say that surely, with the few number of visitors that he receives, that he could not possibly do well as the King of the Blogs! Again, I say to you, realize that his hits do not derive themselves from random google searches, but are truly representative of his fan base. Also, he is still young, but with his humor and wit (and help from yours truly), I have no doubt that he will soon eclipse the blogging power of his competitors.

Third, I doubt that the other competitors are really even honestly sending visitors to your sites. I noticed on one particular site (and I dare not name names) that the link back to the King of the Blogs was actually something about a particular Hilton sister performing lewd and unholy acts. Imagine their disappointment when instead of carnal satisfaction, they find intelligent discussion and healthy competition. This would obviously give them a negative opinion of your site, something I am sure that none of you desire.

I think I have made my point very clearly, and expect that you will act wisely. The wisdom of the Judges is great and should be envied by all. A thousand blessings on you and your household.

Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder

In the preceding advertisement and promotion, and the promises therein, the Walking Stick character, Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder, was the speaker. While the intent of the aforementioned advertisement is true, it should be noted by the reader that Thor is neither a deity nor possesses any supernatural powers. The reader assumes all risk in believing the preceding advertisement and the author retains the right to revoke said advertisement with proper notification to the King of the Blogs website and its affiliates.

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Thanks Thor, I appreciate the gesture. Well folks, you heard him, head on over to the King of the Blogs, unless of course you enjoy a good smoting.

On a different note, I will be doing some traveling this following week, but will do my best to update from the road.

Have a pleasant evening, everyone.

In light of my post on December 24^th, my lawyers have advised me to post the following salutation.

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2004, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "AMERICA" in the western hemisphere), and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms: This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

For those of you who do not participate in this particularly festive western tradition...um...
Ok, so no smart-assed remark today. Hopefully you to will find something in this post.

Well, today, as most of you have already deduced (didn't you get the memo), today is Christmas Eve. Heck, those of you in Australia have already opened up your presents and are working steadily on the egg nog. Good on ya!

Now, I'm not what most people would consider a 'holiday' person. Perhaps I can best illustrate that point in this manner: I have received, over the past several years, a copy of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (both in English and Latin), a Grinch stuffed doll, and a Grinch ornament. All of these presents were also given to me for Christmas by good friends and family. I think I have gotten the message.

But even the Grinch had to discover the true meaning of Christmas, did he not?

(No, I'm not saying that I, after many long, tireless years of struggle have found the one, true meaning of Christmas. What I am saying is that this post is going to be somewhat out of character for me, i.e. a celebration of the 'Christmas spirit,' which in my case could be found at the bottom of the bottle of wine. But I digress.

I have a problem with being serious for any extended amount of time. Just ask my girlfriend, or parole officer.)

So anyway, I was talking about the Christmas spirit, right? Ok, good, because for a second I was worried that I started talking about that night in Singapore again...

Take two:

When you're little, what does Christmas mean? Presents, duh. This is the one day out of the year where you are anxious to get out of bed. You can't fall asleep the night before, and you pound on your sleep-deprived parents' door, clamoring for the festivities to begin. And by festivities I mean see what cool stuff you got. There would always be the sweater or two that you could do without, and maybe mom accidentally put the wrong name tag on that Barbie doll that was meant for your sister, but more often than not, you walked away with something cool. Ah, Christmas rules. Oh, and the no school for a few weeks is nice, too.

Eventually, though, you start to get older. Santa Clause is a myth you realize. (And then you go off and tell your first grade class the 'truth' and make them cry. I mean, not that I ever did that. Crap. Moving on.) The stuff that you want for Christmas gets more expensive. Maybe you only get one really awesome gift, and some other nifty stuff. You don't want to wake up at 4:30 am anymore, but maybe still 7:00 or so. Christmas is beginning to lose its luster.

Then you realize that Christmas really isn't about getting gifts but giving them. You pour over the people on your personal 'nice' list to get them a gift that is both thoughtful and unique. Something that they would truly enjoy. You get a rush from watching a present you gave bring delight to someone else. Ah, now you have your finger on the pulse of the Christmas spirit.

(Do spirits have pulses? Hmm... that may just have to be your Thought for the Day, we'll see.)

This joy too, eventually fades. You find that it is impossible to please everyone on your list, and that spending that much time and effort for the enigmatic perfect gift may not even be worth it. Some people are happy with whatever is on their Amazon.com wish list. You get too many looks that say, "Um, you kept the receipt, right?" Whatever it is, you get kinda burnt out. How are you supposed to really bless someone on Christmas? If you get something on their 'wish list' you are unoriginal. If you don't, you risk getting something that they really never wanted in the first place. Where oh where are you, spirit of Christmas?

Then it hits you.

Or more specifically, hits me.

(Digression to further illustrate the coming wrap-up will now commence... 'wrap-up' pun intended.)

During the summer of last year I took a trip to Australia with my college choir. It was one of the coolest experiences of my life. I saw an opera in Sydney's Opera House, I swam in the Pacific, I hiked for miles to get the best view imaginable, I saw rain forrest, I scuba dived in the Great Barrier Reef, I went whale-watching, I met people from all over the globe. I got my first hangover.

It was an amazing vacation.

Something my friend said, though, really stuck with me. Here we are, half-way around the world, doing and seeing things that we may never again do or see in our lives. Yet he said, "It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing - what matters is the company you keep." The more I thought about it, the more that rang true. Some of my fondest memories, the ones that are still clear in my mind, are sitting up chatting with a Norwegian couple he and I stayed with. The night a bunch of us stayed in and made dinner in the hostel. Walking around aimlessly trying to find the right bus stop. Hiking up this hill for miles with a friend, taking pictures of the "Endangered Bandicoots" sign. These are the things that really stuck with me.

I took hundreds of pictures on that trip. One of which was even featured in Time Square. The one thing I regret, though, was that I didn't take more pictures of the people I saw those sights with.

That is where I find the Christmas spirit.

Maybe it's because this is the longest time I've spent away from my girlfriend, whom I love desperately. Her absence has left me fealing hollow this Christmas season, and through that I've finally figured out how I should be approaching Christmas.

Tomorrow I'm going to wake up (hopefully not before 9:00 or so), and I'm going to open presents. I'll probably get a few cool items, but I'm not expecting anything big. I may have found that perfect gift, but I'm not going to be disappointed if I didn't.

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to wake up and spend time with people I love. Yes, most of the time they can really get on my nerves, but they love me, unconditionally, which I'm sure they will tell you is no easy task.

Now, I'm incredibly blessed in that. I know. I do not want anyone out there to think I'm rubbing my blessing in their noses. I'm not.

Regardless of what tomorrow holds for you, though, I can guarantee you that you mean more to someone out there than they could possibly express.

I very sincerely believe that.

(Please pardon this rare diversion from the 'not a religious blog' rule.)

Sometimes that expression can be in a hug, I personally also see it in a cross.

Goodnight, all of you out there in blog land.

May you find time to discover the joy of the holiday season while dealing with all of its stressors as well.

Guys, I'm zonked. This holiday stuff has kept me much busier than I expected. Real post tomorrow, honest.

Until then, Happy Holidays!

Well folks, because I can't seem to get enough of these blog competitions, your truly is involved in the next King of the Blogs tournament.

The current king is Blather Review, a Munuvian. So run over and check out Blather Review before he is dethroned...

Bwa ha ha ha ha!!

The other competitors, aside from the current kind, are
ChristWeb
Dodgeblogium
Smarter Cop
Wolf Who Sends Flowers

Good luck to all, and may the best blog win.

Thor Testosticlese, signing out.

Definitively proving that you are, once again, comparatively normal.

Yesterday I went golfing. Now while I may not go golfing that often (it was August since I last went), but still this isn't necessarily a bizarre statement in and of itself. Let's look at some other clues, then, to see why I would make that statement.

Well, for starters, this post is dated December 21, and while I am talking about the past here, we're still looking at December 20^th. Technically, it's still fall (only by what, two days?). But still, it's well into December, so it should be cold.

But wait, you say, where do you live? After all, I bet December in, let's say, Nevada would be pretty nice. In fact, they were just having a professional golf event in Nevada, so it must be nice around there. Well, if you had been doing any of your homework, you'd know that I'm from Missouri, and MO can get cold.

Yes, I went golfing on December 20^th, and it wasn't even particularly warm weather, either. Indeed, I lost a golf ball... in the snow... in the fairway. Oh, and the ponds were frozen over as well. Actually, that part was pretty cool. If you've ever bounced a golf ball across a lake, you know what a mean. Oh sure, technically I should have gotten a penalty, but the ball made it to the other side, didn't it? Yeah, that's what I thought, punk.

Ok, I'm sorry.

(Don't insult the readers, don't insult the readers.)

And we're back in 5... 4... 3... 2...

(cue music and lights)

Now, you may think that I was a little crazy for golfing in this weather, but I was prepared. Or, at least my dad and his golfing buddy were.

You see, not only did my dad have gloves, stocking cap, extra layers all packed with his golf equipment, but he also had the cart ready to go as well. He and his regular golfing buddy actually purchased a large, see-through, plastic cover for the cart. Something very similar to this. Now, this in and off itself merely blocks the wind and not necessarily the cold, but to solve that, they purchased a portable, propane space heater that actually fits in the cup holder in the cart. Amazing.

Signs that you are golfing a little too much.

Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed considerably the warmth our little space heater provided, but I just thought you guys should know what lengths some people will go to for golf.

In keeping with the topic of golf, then, I think I'll offer a few of my favorite quotes:

"Golf is a good walk spoiled." -Mark Twain.

"Golf is essentially an exercise in masochism conducted out of doors." -Paul O'Neil

"The most exquisitely satisfying act in the world of golf is that of throwing a club. The full backswing, the delayed wrist action, the flowing follow-through, followed by that unique whirring sound, reminiscent of a passing flock of birds, are without parallel in sport." -Henry Longhurst

And finally...

"Golf and sex are the only things you can enjoy without being good at them." -Jimmy Demaret.

As it turns out, though, I played remarkably well, even beating my dad out of a bet. I guess I should play in the cold more often.

Thought for the Day

Of course, if sex is anything like golf...

I'll be really bad when I first start, I'll have to work incessantly to even get the basics down, it'll require an inhuman amount of coordination, every time I think I get the hang of it something else will go wrong, eventually I'll only get in a few rounds per year, and I'll end up with a sore back every time.

Who know, maybe eventually that statement will be out there in quotes followed by a dash and my name. One can only hope.

What do you mean there is still some brown stuff on my nose?

Ok, folks, I have a confession to make. I have a small grammar obsession. Well, small is a bit of an understatement. It's more like an unhealthy grammar obsession. Specifically, there are a few things that get on my nerves.

Using "There's" instead of "There are"-
This one is easy to do, and I'm probably guilty of it more often than not. It's really easym if you are formulating the sentence as you speakm it to say, "There's... several things I need to do today." An easy mistake to make, and unfortunately one that is quite pervasive. I'm not so anal about this mistake as I don't always catch it.

Proper use of "who" and "whom"-
Ok, this one is really ridiculous, I know. I mean, really, who in their right mind every even tries to use the word "whom," much less properly? "Who" acts as a subject people, and "whom" is an object! (You know you need a life when you are watching a movie trailer and notice that the tagline, "who's scamming who?" should actually read, "who's scamming whom?"

Adjective vs. Adverb usage-
This one I can be a real prick about. I know that it's rude to correct, and most people really don't give a damn about "good" versus "well," especially when there are situations such as "you smell really (good/well) today" when even I don't know the proper usage. More simple than that, though, is knowing when to put "-ly" at the end of a word.
Today I saw one of the greatest movies I've ever seen, LOTR: Return of the King, and while I was totally engrossed in the movie, I could not help but notice that a guard mispoke when he said, "Open the gate! Quick!" I couldn't help but mutter under my breath, "ly." I need help.

Now I know that I have made several grammar mistakes as well in this blog, and by going off on this little tangent of mine, I've opened myself up for criticism. I acknowledge that. One of my worst mistakes is that I often do not put a question mark at the end of inquisitive sentences. Oh the shame!!

Um...perhaps it's time to change the subject.

MTV? Good choice.

First of all, I'm not a big fan of TV. I do not have one up at college, and to be quite honest, I don't really miss it. I enjoy catching reruns of shows like Frasier, Everybody Loves Raymond, Spin City, The Cosby Show, and others when I get a chance, but 90% of the time I don't know what the new 'hit' shows are.

That being said, I have to admit that I was sucked into watching a few hours of MTV today. Now I could at this point go off about how I am shocked whenever I see a music video on this station, but that would not be getting us anywhere, would it? And I have no doubt that you've already noticed that irony. (See, I already started a sentence with 'and.' For the love!!)

I think MTV is currently gearing up for a new season of The Real World, because they've been showing back-to-back episodes of old seasons late at night. Now this is my kind of television. Nevermind that whole wait-a-week-for-the-next-episode-only-to-find-they-put-on-a-rerun-instead mess. I get to watch a whole season of a show right in one large chunk o' time. It's like I had my own TiVo.

(I'd be willing to share my iPod if you shared your TiVo. Any takers? ... Ok, not really. I'm rather paranoid about getting AL Jr. scratched up, so I think I'll have to live without TiVo for the time being. Oh, and is that how it's capitalized? If not, I just want you to know that I'm not OnE oF tHoSe PeOpLe!! Roxors!! LMAOROTFLOL!!! But I digress.)

So here I am, champion against materialism, defender of brain cells, God of Thunder? watching hour upon hour of The Real World - Las Vegas. I have failed you, O faithful viewers. Please forgive the error of my ways.

Oh wait, during commercials I was watching BBC World News on PBS. That's got to count for something, doesn't it? No? Oh.

I guess I better get back downstairs before the Las Vegas season is over, then!

Thought for the Day

Cannot... think... too... much... M... T... V...

I'm afraid... I'm afraid... Dave... Dave... my mind is going... I can feel it... I can feel it... My mind is going...

You guessed it. We're not talking about the illicit drug here.

Oh sweet sassy molassy. (Yes, I'm jumping right the heck in.) You know, I think that someone whose rear end hangs out of their pants would notice. It's cold outside fer petey's sake, and you would think that a little breeze down down into the valley would be a bit of a clue. Ok, so you need to know where that came from. Fine. Allow me to backtrack a bit.

I went shopping today. (Gasp! The Horror!) I even went shopping at the mall. (Woman shrieks in terror, and then faints. Other audience members rush to her side.) My mom was tagging along because I don't like shopping alone, and frankly I find it calms my nerves when a seasoned veteran (but a remarkably young-looking veteran <-- in case she ever finds this blog) at my side. We were sitting down, taking a break and reflecting upon our accomplishments to this point. We were also eating some yummy cookies. It was then that my mom and I both noticed one of the larger naked rear ends I hope I ever see in my life. (Not that I have this thing about huge naked bottoms, but rather that I hope I don't confront any of that magnitude in the near future...or in the general future for that matter.) This gentlemen was bent over for quite a whie, and I'm afriad that our snickering would have easily reached him. It certainly made those around us notice. It was nice being able to wish strangers a "Merry Christmas" after that...

I'll have a Merry Christmas as soon as I gouge out my mind's eye.

Hence, the rant at the beginning of this post.

Now, onto what I had originally decided to post about... showering.

Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. Large gluteus maximus memory. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew.

*Goes to take shower*

Ok, I'm doing better now. Shall we continue.

So my dad has been working on the shower that my brother and I share. More specifically he's re-caulking it. This is a good thing, as we are upstairs and leaks have a tendency to ruin ceilings. Unfortunately, this also means that I had to use a different shower yesterday (or not shower at all). So my parents kindly offer theirs.

Fantastic.

I am now sharing the space where my parents get naked.

Über-fantastic.

Granted, this is not the place where they do the naked thing together, but at least the bed gets washed regularly and you have a protective layer of clothing to shield you from unpleasantness. Not so with the shower. No, with the shower you have to shed your protective shield and face uncertainty head on.

Über-fan-flippin'-tastic.

That's fine. I can deal with this. I am a mature young adult. I've know for two years now that babbies do not come from storks. I get it. Dum dee dum. Just gonna hop in the shower. Oh wait, it's freakin' freezing in here.

You see, I'm a little bit spoiled in the dorms. My idea of temperate control in the winter is opening the window when it gets too hot. So naturally, when I return to a house that is a respectible 70 degrees (theoretically), it's a little bit chilly. And nothing sucks worse than having to get out of the shower when it's cold. I hate that sort of thing.

Double-über-fan-flippin'-tastic.

Oh, and here's the kicker. I first get into the shower and notice that my parents have one of those massage shower heads. Sweet! At least something about this is going to work. What my dad told me afterwards, and what I learned after about ten minutes, is that you can't adjust it. Something's broken. So here I am trying for a while trying to get this thing to adjust. I try twisting and various directions and in various places, alas, to no avail. So now I'm stuck with the pansy setting. I think you know what I'm talking about. The one where the water is coming out in tiny little no-water-pressure-whatsoever streams that are seemingly pointed in every direction but forward. And let's not forget that I'm as skinny as a rail, so basically the water does not have to be at too great an angle to miss my body completely.

So here I am, uncomfortable, cold, and standing as close as I can to the shower head to make sure I get at least in contact with some water.

Double-dog-über-fan-flippin'-tastic.

At least the food is good here.

Thought for the Day

Ok, now I think most people have at least one pair of jeans that has a tendency to sag just a little bit. (For some people that is their entire wardrobe. Man, I hope that isn't still cool.) Anyway, if you are going to wear those pants at least wear the underwear that still has some working elastic. Or maybe a long shirt. I dunno, and frankly, I don't care. But if you find yourself outside with a breeze where no breeze should be, please, do something to alleviate the situation.

Thanks.

This message has been brought to you by SOPTHBGOBBC - the Society of People That Have Been Grossed Out By Butt Cracks.

Lucy? Lucy? Oh, sorry mam. I didn't realize this was the wrong house. If you'll put the shotgun down I'll slowly leave. Deal?

What a whirlwind tour I've had these past few days. I spent the weekend at grandma's house, returned to school, and am now home for Christmas break. (Oh great, the politically correct censor over my right shoulder just glared at me again. Neener neener neener.) I suppose I shall tell you about the weekend first, and then later on I'll post the entry I wrote this morning in the shower. Mmm...shower blog.

You know, it really is unfortunate that I don't have a water-proof computer in the shower. This blog would freakin' rule. Of course, the water bill would be the equivalent of say...Czechoslovakia, but man, it'd be worth it. But I digress...

First of all, I should explain that I wasn't going to visit my real grandparents. All of my real grandparents have long been dead, which would make it a little difficult to go visit them. So I figure that I'll go ahead and give the kind people I was visiting that designation. At least until they die...silly old people. Anyway, these are the grandparents of my former college roommate, the guy I lived with for 2 1/2 years until he decided to up and get married. Punk. But I'm not bitter, and I have the psychiatrist bills to prove it. I've gone to visit them a few times before, and keep going back, mostly for the food. We are talkin' Midwestern, farm-style cooking here folks. The kind that'll put meat on your bones and hair on your chest. (Well, at least for the guys.)

Of course, our visits are usually timed to coincide with something going on at their church. This is a small town and smaller church, so our decent singing voices are usually appreciated. I might as well just wear a sign that reads "WILL SING FOR FOOD (especially roast beef)." This weekend was their Christmas 'cantata.' Now, for those of you who don't spend their entire lives studying music, I will go ahead and give you the definition for that term.

Cantata - A musical composition, often using a sacred text, comprising recitatives, arias, and choruses.

Ok, so this wasn't quite as easy as I thought it was going to be, hang on...

Recitative - A style used in operas, oratorios, and cantatas in which the text is declaimed in the rhythm of natural speech with slight melodic variation and little orchestral accompaniment.

Aria - an elaborate song for solo voice.

Awesome, now we are on the same page.

Let me now define Cantata for this little town of 670 people.

Cantata - A series of songs sung by a choir of old people who can't sing and the occasional soloist who also cannot sing. Accompaniment consists entirely of a cheesy backup tape.

Don't get me wrong, these are just about the nicest people you could ever hope to meet this far north of...um...the South. They are warm, friendly, hospitable folks who know how to really cook, but not so much sing. It doesn't matter much, though, for as this is the largest church in the region, they manage to pack the place.

Anyway, my adopted grandma can be quite persuasive when it comes to getting a few of us to come down to sing for this shindig, and, now that I say it, can be quite persuasive concerning just about anything. My girlfriend came down with us this time, and I tried to do my best to warn her about grandma. Of course, she still managed to surprise us with a few things she said. For instance...

At dinner she was talking to my former roommate and his wife, giving them the advice that only a couple that had been together for 56 years could offer. She said that when arguing you should avoid words like, "always" and "never" for they are rarely true. She also said that you fights are inevitable no matter how amiable the relationship. So far, good advice. What caught everyone a little off guard, though, was what followed. Grandma said, "Of course, the best part about fights is making up afterwards." I don't think I'll ever look at grandma quite the same way again, or at least without thinking "make-up sex" every time.

After dinner it was dessert time, and that meant ice cream. She announced this to everyone in the living room, and I immediately chimed in saying, "Ice cream sounds great, what kind do you have?" She then, jokingly, went off about how I am just an irreverent child who thinks that she's operating some kind of restaurant. She did, however, bring out our two flavor choices, allowing me the decision. (Grandma's rule.) She then asked everyone individually if they wanted ice cream. My girlfriend was the only one to decline. Grandma asked again, "Are you sure you don't want any ice cream?" Again, the reply was no. Grandma then turns to me, and says to everyone in the room, "She's just worried about getting fat," and proceeds to ask her if she wants some ice cream. My girlfriend only turned a few different shades of red.

Ah, such is grandma. As my own mother said yesterday, "Saying whatever the hell you want to is one of the benefits of getting old, that is, one of the few benefits of getting old." I then added, "Plus you can always feign senility when you do something wrong."

For some reason she didn't appreciate that.

Now you may be thinking to yourself, "What about grandpa? Has he passed on?"

Well, no, he is still around, but he's extremely quiet. I think I figured out why, though. Grandma is a real talker, and even the most talkative people seem to have trouble getting a word in edge-wise. I figure that grandpa, after spending most of his life trying and failing to add his two cents, decided to give up years ago. It simply isn't worth it anymore.

Thought for the Day

Grandma and make-up sex.

So there

Ok folks, apparently I hadn't anticipated the time it would take to get everything packed for semester break after returning from the visit with the grandparents. Hence no post. I'm leaving here shortly (which means this computer is going to have to be packed up), but I'll leave you this tidbit as your...

Thought for the Day

(Grandma said this was from a 1979 reader's digest, I believe.)

Ole Santa's pack held 30 toys
Made by his elfin crew;
And though none made the same amount,
Each elf made more than two.

The elf named Cher made one more toy
Than the elf, who dressed in reds,
But Cher made one less Christmas toy
Than the elf who made the sleds.

Spry Johnny Elf made racing cars;
Five toys were made by Jane.
The elf who dressed in yellow suits
Made each and every tram.

The elf who always dressed in green
Made one-third as many as Sue.
Cute Marcia Elf was dressed in orange,
And one elf dressed in blue.

The elf who made the spinning tops
Made the most toys of them all.
Another perky, smiling elf
Made each and every ball.

Ole Santa's pack held 30 gifts
All tagged for girls and boys.
From the clues that you've been given,
Now tell who made what toys!

First one to comment on the solution wins a virtual pat-on-the-back from yours truly.

P.S. For those of you who may have listened to my mp3 stream of my piano playing, it will most likely be down for the next month, or at least until I can figure out how to stream past my router at home.

I don't know when I'll be back...actually, I'll be posting again on Monday, and we're driving. Stupid song.

This is just a quick update to let you guys know that I'm leaving town shortly, and will be without internet access for 36 hrs or so. I've brought my meds but the internet deprivation may still cause a nasty rash.

On a separate note, the Wizbang Blog Awards are coming to a close tomorrow. I'm still kinda clinging to third place in my category, and since I won't be here to vote for myself as I usually do, I'm going to need someone to pick up the slack.

Have a lovely weekend everyone.

And by normal I mean really screwed up, but without so many stupid mistakes.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint folks, but I cannot honestly recall doing anything particularly stupid today. Then again, I can't recall doing anything today, so there may have been many moments of hilarity and/or stupidity, but I am not quite lucid enough to recall them. (No, I am not drunk and/or high. Sorry. Man, that's two disappointments back to back. A few more and I'll start acting like the Cubs. Ha ha, just kidding. Kind of.) Although, I'm pretty sure that this level of lucidity is perfect for blogging.

What I can tell you, though, is that I have absolutely no taste whatsoever. It's true. Well, I should be somewhat more specific. I can pick out a nice wine to complement your dinner, but when it comes to looking good, I suck. No, really. Anything cool I own someone else inevitably bought for me. I go shopping and return with a Bill Cosby sweater collection. There's nothing wrong with that, per se, but apparently sweaters aren't too hip nowadays. Or ever, for that matter.

Pictured immediately to my left is the pattern of my scarf. First of all, I should say that I love to wear scarves, and I started wearing them before everyone else did, damnit! Seriously, my sophomore year, I was one of only a few people with scarves. The next year, everyone and their mother (yes, even your mother, who says "hi" by the way, and that you need to call) had a scarf. Suddenly I'm just following the latest fashion fad, and if there is one thing I cannot stand it's fads and being a part of them. Again, I digress. The point of posting this picture is so that you know exactly what I'm about to describe.

You see, when my sister got me this scarf for Christmas a few years back the first thought that ran through my head was, "Wow, all my least favorite colors in one scarf." What I actually said was, "Thanks." (Ah, another great Christmas tradition, lying to those you love.) I decided to wear it up at school, however, because, well, it was cold and I wanted a scarf. Well, this article of clothing has easily become the single most complimented item I own. Bar none. And the compliments come from all demographics, guys, gals, old people, young people, people I like, people I don't like, people that would be dead if murder was legal... um, digressing again. What I was saying is that every winter it gets numerous compliments. This is its third year in service and it's still catching everyone's eye. The moral of this story:

I clearly have no taste.

I have since come to accept this fact about myself. It is through no fault of my own, naturally. Some people are born without rhythm, shame, personalites, or even elbows. Frankly, I'm lucky I was only born without taste. Heck, I'm a straight male, even if I did have taste my significant other would eventually break me of that habit, no? See, I'm better off starting without it. I don't know what I'm missing this way.

Thought for the Day

There is nothing that I really want for Christmas. Oh sure, there's the occasional DVD or book that I want, but nothing big this year. My dad actually called me today, after I emailed him my Amazon.com wish list, and said, "That isn't much of a Christmas list."

Fine Dad, here is my new wishlist:

A Dual 2GHz G5, all options maxed out: $16,077.90
BMW 2004 Z4 roadster 3.0i, fully equipped (sorry Charlie): $51,145.00
Spaceship (you know, to impress chicks): Blackmarket prices may vary.

(Right, so I realize that your Thought for the Day was not necessarily thought-provoking, but...um...I just finished my last final and don't feel like making anyone do anything thinking. So there.)

I've been fast-tracked for idiot of the month

I will grant you that we here in the Midwest have not gotten nearly the same amount of snow that some of our unfortunate east-coast brethren (and sisthren?) have. Indeed, it rained pretty much non-stop of all Tuesday. The problem with that, however, is that temperatures have not gotten above freezing since, and so all that wonderful rain has frozen solid. On my car.

Yesterday was reading day on campus, which is the day before finals start. There are no classes this day and therefore every organization on campus decides to hold some sort of meetings on this day. I was lucky and only had one to attend. My girlfriend, on the other hand, was less than fortunate we'll say. But I digress.

I had to attend a meeting/Christmas party off campus, and therefore had to get into my car. Of course, I walk out to my car a few minutes before I'm supposed to be there as I always would. Normally this isn't a problem. Of course, normally my car isn't totally covered in ice. The first step in cleaning off the car is of course to get in the car.

Problem.

The driver's side doors were totally covered in ice, so I after kicking the door for a while (a wonderful example where violence is the solution) I am finally able to get in. The next step in cleaning off the car is to get it started and turn on every defrost option you have. Yes, it wastes gas, but it expedites the clean off process. Many people forget this, so I gave myself a little self-congratulatory high five (more difficult than it sounds) and looked for the ice scraper.

Problem.

I can't find it. It isn't in the car. I get out of the car, with it still running, and contemplate my options. I could go ask one of these random people scraping off their car if I could borrow theirs... or... I could check the trunk. I will grant you that the trunk is a bad place for an ice scraper but I figured it was worth a look. Of course to get into the trunk I had to get through the ice. This wasn't as bad as the handle for the trunk is really solid as opposed to the door handle which I feared I would break off with my massive muscles! (Think Austrian accent.) I finally get into the trunk and find that, lo and behold, there is the ice scraper.

I'm an idiot.

Thus I set off to work the on the driver's side window and the rear window. That took a while. As I'm scraping diligently I'm leaning against the car adjacent to mine. It is then that I notice that this car has no ice on it. Huh. They must have taken care of that earlier that day. I continue with my scraping and then move to the passenger side. Huh. This side doesn't have any ice on it. The wind must have been blowing the rain on the other side. I get in my car, which is by now nice and toasty, and head off to my meeting/party. It is then that I realize that as I was furiously trying to get into the driver's side of the car, almost breaking off the plastic door handle, that the other side of the car had no ice. I could have just gone in that way, and dealt with the driver's side door from within.

I'm an idiot.

Thought for the Day

I am always so optimistic about the changing of the seasons. As the weather was cooling off there was an air of excitement about the campus. Winter approaches, as does beautiful snow. Yesterday morning I woke up to the first real snow we had seen here in the 'ville. The sun was reflecting brightly off its white, icy surface, making all around it shine. Therein lies beauty, hope.

Then I go out to my car, realize that the windchill is below zero, everything is frozen over including, but not limited to, the parking lot, sidewalks, and my car. The sun sets at freakin' two in the afternoon, which, incidentally, is when I like to wake up if I can help it.

Winter sucks.

Optimism be damned.

No, really, I have the Certificate of Achievement right here.

I may have mentioned before that I am a senior in college still living in the dorms. As a senior, I do have some benefits such as having a room to myself and being able to choose where I live first. The hall I chose was the one which is nearest the music building. It's very convenient. I simply walk down a flight of stairs and I'm no more than a 10 second walk to the building. Now, the reason I am telling you all of this is because I needed to explain why I would choose to live in a dorm with community bathrooms. This situation has the potential to be nice, but aside from the bathroom being cleaned once a day (instead of once every month or so) there really are no particular benefits.

There are many pains of the community bathroom situation, not least of which is having to carry everything you might need to use in a bathroom down the hall. This can lead to unfortunate errors in judgment. For instance, this morning after I took my shower, I realized that I did not have my towel.

Fantastic.

So there I am, soaking wet, without any means to dry myself off save the paper towel dispenser. Unfortunately said paper towel dispenser is right by the door, so even walking out of the shower to it would require putting on clothing that is ill-suited for water uptake. I decided to face the music then, and putting on some shorts, dried off somewhat with the paper towels. Had I wished to finish off the drying off process, however, I probably would have needed to spend fifteen minutes or so while killing off several acres of rainforest. So I once again bit the proverbial bullet and walked back to my room, dripping wet and wearing only my shorts.

Thankfully, during this whole process I was able to laugh at myself. After all, it isn't healthy to take yourself too seriously. Of course, the Society of Idiots has just informed me via email that I am now officially a member, and should be receiving my membership packet and Honorary Certificate™ in the mail in around 4-6 weeks. I'll let you know when it arrives.

Thought for the Day

See, just when I thought that I was cool, life decides to put me in my place. One day I am Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder, the next Neo, "The One." Today I was that guy who forgot to take his towel with him and consequently walked down the hallway half-naked and soaking wet.

"If you are sure you understand everything that is going on, you are hopelessly confused."
-Walter Mondale

So which of my dreams should be next?

Today, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, bloggers and blogettes, I want you to know that I, your humble author, have achieved one of my lifelong dreams.

I was a bad-ass.

That's right, the lanky nerd from Nowhere, Missouri established his aura, his cool, his bad-assness. Finally, after all these years...

You see, yesterday evening there was a mixer that was hosted by my girlfriend's music fraternity, ΣΑ&Iota. (Yes she's a girl in an all-girls fraternity. I made the mistake once of calling it a sorority, which it is not. At all.)

Well, I should tell you first that my girlfriend is kinda shy in social situations, and does not like dancing. Naturally then, given the nature of my R-gene, I decided that we should go all out and dress up to be the center of attention. What better way to overcome anxiety than to face it head on? For this little event, I decided to wear the outfit you see pictured to your right (no, your other right). I even kept the shades, even though the sun had set well before and we were inside. (Oh, and my girlfriend looked hot, of course, but lets remember that this blog is about me.)

We actually had a great time. Even the shy girl at my side discovered that she too can have fun dancing, and that public humiliation is a part of the experience and is not something to be avoided. It has long been my theory that "White People Can't Dance" (the Nobel committee is still reviewing my submission) and therefore people should have no reservations about their relative dancing skizills, because everyone pretty much looks like a dork.

Except for me, apparently. Today my girlfriend informed me of a comment made by a mutual friend of ours. Apparently this girl approached my girlfriend and told her that, "Andy looked like Neo last night." Did you hear that?! I was not only cool last night, I was matrix cool. Now, I realize that Keanu Reeves has the intelligence and acting ability of a single-celled organism (most likely a Paramecia because I've seen Amebae act, and he doesn't have anything on them.) Regardless of all of that, of course, he is a total bad-ass in that movie. Last night I was that guy. Women wanted me, and men wanted to be me. La vita é bela!

This has been one of my long-standing dreams. I have often seen those on the theater screen, walking as only the bad-ass can, and wished to be one. Last night, I achieved that dream.

I think then this would be a nice opportunity to elaborate on some of my more obscure dreams.

First, I want to be knighted. Sir Richard Andrew Lee certainly has a ring to it, doesn't it? I'd go by Sir Andrew, of course, because the full name would be somewhat ostentatious, wouldn't it?

I would also like to be a supreme dictator of a small nation. Not for too long, mind you, as dictators have been losing popularity in this century, but I still think that would be fun.

I really want to be a spy. I'm not talking pansy spy like James Bond, I'm talking bad-ass speaks dozens of languages, can kill a man with a spork, is silent and stealthy kind of spy. The kind of spies that make it into Robert Ludlum novels.

I would also like to be a Samurai, I think. No, that has absolutely nothing to do with a Tom Cruise movie that should be coming out soon. No, it has more to do with my favorite book, Shogun. Something about those who live and die for honor really appeals to me.

I think that takes care of most of the list, but I think you can see one common thread through everything: Bad-assness. That was the first step in achieving my dreams, for without it all those other accomplishments are but dung to my nostrils. (Wha?)

What dreams will be accomplished next? Stay tuned to find out.

Thought for the Day

Hmm...I wonder if blogging equals positive or negative bad-ass points...

Screw that Abby chick...a new guy is in town

Well folks, it seems that despite my attempts to warn people in my About Me section, a faithful viewer has decided to ask for my advice in her life. I mean, c'mon, what is in this blog that could possibly make someone think I'm someone to give good advice? Well, it doesn't really matter now, because the cat's out of the bag. I'll do this one segment and it'll end up becoming the focus of this blog. No more fun. No more jokes. No more witty commentary that requires a dictionary nearby. Oh no. Just advice to my fans.

No point in wasting time then, is there?*

---

Hello,

I read your posting about the girl you had known for a while and had (at the time) recently felt a connection with. And, as your situation sounds strikingly similar to mine, I was wondering if you could help me out with something. I am currently experiencing a similar situation in the sense that I am an INFJ (which makes me slightly shy and reserved) female and I have been talking to this fairly shy, reserved INTJ guy. I like him a lot and I'm pretty sure he likes me as well, but conversation between us is always fairly brief and slightly awkward due to our combined reserved tendencies. So, I am just wondering if, in your INTJ opinion (now, I realize not all INTJ's are alike, but I'm just curious as to what you might think in this situation), being more assertive with him would be in my best interest--i.e. asking him to come along with me and my friends to a night out in the city, or something of that nature--to ease the pressure of "how ever will I make the first move?" off of him, or should I just continue being friendly and let him do his own thing and come-to in his own time?

Flustered Fan

Dear Flustered Fan,

First of all, and I realize you're new at this so I'll let it slide, but it's "Dear Andy." Or, if you want to be a little bit more creative it can be "Dear Sir Andrew." That's a good one. Or there's "Dear Dr. R. Andrew Lee," "Dear Andy Lee, Master of the Universe," and my personal favorite, "Dear Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder." In fact, given your recent error, I would recommend some of the later options to suck up a bit. A simple "Hello" is far to informal given my position, and its continued use will bring plagues upon your household. (Trust me, you don't want the boils.)

Well Flustered, your next problem is you're constant labeling and stereotyping of people. It's highly politically incorrect to say the least, and frankly I'm surprised you are still in the running for Congress. If CNN picked up on this your campaign would be dead in the water. You need to see past the labels we all carry with us. I'm an INTJ, your an INFJ, some people are even MILF's or STFU's, but those labels are only skin deep and do not give you a glimpse at the beautiful person inside everyone (except maybe those STFU's). Thus, my primary advice would be to see beyond his INTJness and look at the person within. Only then can you lose interest with a clean conscience.

   So how do you get a guy to notice you? That's the easiest question I've gotten in years. Show up nekkid, bring beer. If that doesn't work then he's gay. There's no denying it. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Just don't think of it so much as losing a boyfriend so much as gaining a girlfriend. And really, isn't that what all women want anyway? You just need a guy to share your quote unquote feelings with who isn't trying to get in your pants.

Here's wishing you years of constant self-esteem boosts from your new gay friend.

Sincerely,

Dr. Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder

---

Well, that was successful, I think. Who knows, maybe this won't be so bad after all.

I suppose I ought to explain the "Thor Testosticlese" (tes-TAW-sti-clees) name. Well, my friend Laura decided to try and come up with the manliest name she could think of. "Thor Testosticlese, God of Thunder" was the definitive winner. (Of couse, the nice Greek spelling would be Testosticles, but that would just look like (tes-TAW-sti-cuhls) to some people.) For my birthday, then, she gave me a very professional looking nameplate with that carved into it. It's definitely going on my desk at my first real job.

All will tremble before the mighty wrath of Thor Testosticlese!!

Thought for the Day

Never take advice about women from women.

Never take advice about men from men.

*Just a little FYI, the author gave me permission to post this email here. Any email I receive will need to be accompanied by written permission for publication, otherwise you'll miss out on all the fun.

Now you know my secret to overcoming stage fright.

Heck, now that I think about it, that probably wasn't a bad idea. There were several things working against me yesterday before my senior recital. First of all, I my right index finger was really hurting me. Was this from overpracticing in anticipation of the recital? No. Was this some freak accident involving a knife, car door, or chain saw? No. (At least then I'd have a good story to tell.) The correct response was that I cut the stupid nail too short, causing skin underneath the remaining nail to tear away when I play the piano, inducing massive blood loss. (Unfortunately this isn't exactly the first time that's happened.) Actually, all of that is true, minus the excessive blood loss. On Friday, I was doing a run-through with my professor, and about halfway through I noticed that my finger was bleeding, and then I noticed a little bit of blood on the piano keys. That's right, I was playing the piano so fast and awesomely that my fingers were bleeding! (Yes, I know that it was just the index finger of my right hand, but give me a break. A little hyperbole never killed anyone. Oh, and my fingers were bleeding, not bleating. If that was the case I'd ditch the recital and tour with the circus.)

Oh, but that was not the only problem. I developed a severe headache about an hour and a half before the recital was to start. This is a bit odd for me, considering I don't often get headaches. In fact, now that I think about it, I didn't start to get a headache until I took a few tylenol to help with the finger problem. Ironic, no?

To top things off, my left eye was twitching off and on, as it had been for the last week or so. Indeed, the twitching was so bad I think it could be best described as "shaking and shivering like an epilectic midget lying naked on a windy iceberg." Apparently this eye-twitch thing is a blogging related problem.

No great achievement was ever...um...achieved (work with me people) without overcoming obstacles, though. At least that's what one of those motivational posters says, I think. The recital actually went pretty well. It took a while to calm my nerves, but I'd have to say it was successful.

After the recital myself and some other relatives (some of whom flew in from D.C.!) went out to have dinner. This was around 8:30, so we were all quite hungry by then. Myself especially, because I have this problem where if I'm nervous I find it very difficult to eat. Of course, we went to this restaurant/microbrewery, so I had to get a few beers too. Normally I can handle my liquor pretty well. (Now, by pretty well I mean that I can have two drinks without feeling much effect and I know my limits.) This evening, however, I was exhausted (piano playing is hard work people) and hadn't eaten much all day. Needless to say, then, that those beers went straight to me. But hey, that just makes dealing with the family all the easier.

(Man, I can't even joke about that. I had family that flew in from D freakin' C that morning and then drove 2 1/2 hrs to get here. My mom made tons of desert food for the 90 or so people that came to the recital, and also got me some sweet gifts. So don't get the wrong impression about my folks, they rock.)

Of course, alcohol and family can be a lethal combination, especially if your girlfriend is meeting them for the first time. Actually, things went pretty well, but I did get hit once by her. My dad kept asking if she wanted something to drink and each time she declined. I think I remember saying something like, "Way to be Dad, helping me get my girlfriend drunk. High five!" I deserved it.

In fact, I often deserve to get hit. That I don't get hit more often is a tribute to her unending patience and care.

;)

(C'mon, what'd you expect? She knows where this blog is, remember?)

Well, I hope you guys had an awesome weekend as well. I'll get my recital on this site as soon as I get the CD (or as soon as I feel like it after I get the CD).

Just think happy thoughts, e.g. "tomorrow is monday."

Oh, and one other thing. I'm in pretty close contention for the Best Blog that Nobody Reads competition, but I'm up against a Blog that People Do Read. Seriously, she's a Flappy Bird, and I'm but a lowly Wiggly Worm in the Blog Ecosystem. You know what the means people. Vote early, vote often!

Thought for the Day

I went to a choir concert today and, as has become common place for many choirs, they sang a few spirituals. Does anyone else besides me find it incredibly ironic that very white choirs sing songs that were written under the whips of the white man? Not only that, but that they are used as "show stoppers?"

Actually, mine only real objection to most choirs singing spirituals is that (and I can say this because demographically speaking I am "the man") the vast majority of white people just don't have soul. It's like Al Gore trying to be sexy. It just doesn't work.

(Sorry about that little mental image there. It won't happen again. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go gouge out my mind's eye.)

Well folks, voting has begun over at the Wizbang Blog Awards. I'm not sure why this was going to be anything other than a popularity contest. Everyone (myself shamelessly included) asks their readers to go vote for them, and that's mostly how the process works. Before I voted for Charlie in the Best Humor Blog category, however, I at the very least read a handful of posts for each of the other blogs before voting. I also checked out all the blogs in the Best Looking Blog category before voting. I would suggest then, as you head out to the polls, to at least look at most of the blogs in a category before voting. An ignorant vote is worse than no vote at all I say!

(Um...of course this is still a popularity contest and little more...so...um...yeah, you know what to do.)

I'm afraid this promised post is going to have to be a short one. My recital is tomorrow and I'm really, really getting stressed out about it. On the plus side, though, I'll have another hours worth of music to add to my little radio stream over there.

So, where's the humor you ask? ("Where's the beef?") Well, in keeping with the same general topic as the last real post, I'd thought I'd invite you all to partake in a few other fun linguistic games.

The first is the "Funny Insult."

This is so much fun to play with friends and family (ages 6+), and my sister and I went back and forth ad nauseam over Thanksgiving break. The thing is to come up with ridiculous, nonsensical insults, each seemingly worse than the previous. For example:

Sister: The popcorn and cranberries didn't turn out right.
Me: Your face didn't turn out right.
Sister: Your face makes Picasso look right.
Me: Picasso didn't even realize your face was a face.
Sister: Your mom didn't even realize your face was a face. (Yes, "your mom" jokes don't work so well between siblings, I know.)
Me: Your mom once mistook the fireplace soot for your face.
Sister: Your mom doesn't know the difference between animate and inanimate objects.
Me: I wish your face was inanimate, because then it would at least be quiet.

Ok, so that kind of took a harsher turn towards the end, but it is still fun nonetheless. Remember, though, that the point of this is not to hurt someone's feelings or demean them, but rather to see who can keep going with the line of insults the longest.

Again, here are the rules -
1) No intentionally hurt feelings
2) The insults must follow from one another
3) Each insult must be worse than the one that proceeded it
4) Each insult must be predominantly nonsensical
5) The person who goes the longest wins.
6) Bonus points for "your mom" and "your face" insults

Try it sometime, just not with your boss/professor/parents/jury.

The second game is the random assignment of points. I know that I in no way originated this game, but I think it is worth highlighting.

The points, again, must be nonsensical, and should follow a relatively common theme. For instance, "Plus 10 points for using the word amiable." "Minus 20 man points for asking for directions." "Plus 5 rock star points for that cool head-nod-acknowledgement move."

Again, random, thematic, and nonsensical is the key.

That's about it for tonight. Do go vote in Wizbang. Who knows, maybe you'll find another good read or two.

Until tomorrow, then.

Thought for the Day

I just watched Best in Show this evening, and I must say that it was quite good. Thankfully, over Thanksgiving, my Dad was flipping between some dog show and the football games so I was much better able to appreciate the humor of the movie. (I know, weird that he went between football and dog show, hey, whatever man.)

Here's your thought - what's the point? "Hey look, I have the best looking dog in the nation!" So? Don't get me wrong, I am definitely a dog person, I just don't see what the big deal is.

Oh, and don't get me started about the "toy dog" category. For me to consider a dog worth owning it must:

1) Be bigger than most rodents
2) Be able to catch a frisbee without sustaining severe bodily harm, and
3) Have a bark that might scare someone, not make them want to kick said dog

Well, it seems that the The Wizbang Blog Awards are set to go. Voting begins tomorrow, so go check it out. I'm in the category of Ecosystems Slimy Molluscs (and Below). (If you have absolutely no idea what that means, then go here for an explanation. Hey, while I'm at it, I'm going to throw my weight (skinny as I may be) behind Where the Hell Was I?, which is listed in the Best Humor Blog category. (See, good blogs get good categories.)

Things are getting certainly getting exciting around here. I know that my staff and I are thrilled to have been nominated for this award (hey, just because I nominated myself doesn't mean diddly. They still had to accept said nomination. Oh, and I do have a staff...but it's mainly the voices in my head...and the occasional hallucination.) Plus I'm now 34th in the queue for a genuine, USDA approved Weblog Review.

I think that'll have to be it for now. I need some sleep, but should hopefully have a post up sometime tomorrow afternoon. (Your line is, "Like I haven't heard that one before.")

Oh, and do check out the new About Me page.

and by half I mean about 95% or so.

I'm so glad I'm a mac user. Now, I realize that I try to keep this blog moderately neutral on hot topics like religion, politics, and computer platform choices. So, forgive me this one indulgence.

I just spend 45 minutes trying to burn a CD with a staggering two songs. No problem, right? Wrong. The first problem was apparently the first two attempts were using not the CD burner, but rather a disk image creator. Now, I'm not saying that shouldn't be an option, but it also shouldn't be the freakin' default. It's a good thing I know my way around computers, because my girlfriend had no idea what the problem was. I had to find some obscure option menu and manually select the actual CD-burning drive. What a mess. Oh, and I got to the see blue screen of death twice during this ordeal.

Sometime people ask me why I prefer macs. Well, as much as I love Jonathan Ive's designs and the iApps, I would simply have to say that the computer just works. It does what it's supposed to do without getting in my way. I'm a geek, have taking programming courses, and enjoying messing around with computers, but sometimes I just want my computer to work. Period. That is why I use a mac.

(Fade to white, display Apple logo, and return to Samurai Jack.)

Man, I love Samurai Jack. I've only seen a handful of episodes, but I think I can safely say that it is one quality cartoon. Sure, it's no Family Guy, Futurama, or Home Movies, but there is something about the extremely overly-dramatic animation that really rocks my face off! I mean, c'mon, in what other cartoon are you going to get mega-widescreen animation? Huh? What was that? That's what I thought.

(Don't worry, I'm seeing a psycho therapist for my interaction with an audience that isn't...well...here. I mean sure, you're sitting at your computer there in , but you aren't here in my room, actually talking to me. At least, that's what the shrink says. "Blah blah blah, I have letters after my name so I'm smarter than you, blah blah blah.")

(For any of my professors that stumbled onto this site...I of course did not include you in the above sentiment.)

Anywho, the topic that I really wanted to address was incorporating new phrases into your vocabulary. My girlfriend is the jiggidy jammiest when it comes to using phrases, and I thought I would encourage you to do the same by pointing out some of my favorites. While I would encourage you to use these, I would also encourage you to make up your own. You'd be surprised how much people understand the most random phrases when placed in the right context and delivered with the right conviction. Give it a try. I don't think you'll be disappointed. So here are some of my favorites:

Rock your face off! - "That roast beef was so good it rocked my face off!" The origin of this phrase is quite difficult to pinpoint. My former roommate first introduced me to the phrase, and he got it from some guy who heard it somewhere else. All I know is that the phrase seems to be localized here in Kirksville, MO. I've already convinced a student from Australia to take it back to her native land. In exchange, she gave me some fun Australian phrases.

Jiggidy Jam - "Jonathan Ive is the Jiggidy Jam." You may have heard someone say that something was "the Jam" before (kinda like "da bomb", in the non-nuclear sense), but the "Jiggidy" is used as an intensifier.

Snap! - "Oh snap! I forgot there was a test today." This is more common than the aforementioned phrases, but it's better than using the word shit in my opinion.

That's Quality - "Wow, fat guy in a speedo. Now that's quality." This phrase is typically used ironically. However, if something is really cool, you could also say that it's quality. This is a very flexible phrase.

Margaret Thatcher - *Stubs toe* "Margaret Thatcher!" Now, I don't mean to offend my friends in the UK by using her name as an expletive, but it's a lot of fun, and less offensive than the alternative. No, seriously, I'm a fan of Margaret Thatcher and British politics in general. I even enjoy watching Questions for the Prime Minister when I catch it on C-Span. I just find that her name is fun to use in certain occasions.

Well, I think I've offended enough people for this post. Time to move on to your...

Thought for the Day

My favorite oxymoron - Microsoft Works!

Ok, that really wasn't it, I just had to get that out of my system.

Women needed to test orgasm machine.

Some of the highlights -

"'I thought people would be beating my door down to become part of the trial,' pain specialist Dr Stuart Meloy told New Scientist magazine Wednesday."

"You're going to have to teach my husband how to do that."

Yeah, I don't think I have anything to add.

The Onion counts, right?

Just wanted to post this link for you guys. It has been floating among some of my friends because the person interviewed hails from our little Missouri town. Enjoy.

Area Man Supports Troops He Didn't Go To Highschool With.

Hey, at least I didn't send you a demo CD like some companies do.

Hey there, hi there, ho there faithful viewers (and random people who were searching for hiking assistants). In case you haven't noticed, there have been a few changes around here, most of which are due entirely to my own procrastination.

I've mentioned on several occasions that I have my senior recital this Saturday, but that isn't the only thing going on this weekend. I have my voice notebook due (which is a real pain in the butt, let me tell you), a presentation in counterpoint, a quiz in Lifetime Health and Suck, as well as some other assorted assignments that are due. None of this I feel like doing, especially with the impending recital. Not that I don't have time even with the additional preparation, but it works as a nice excuse, no? "Oh, I can put that off because I really should be focusing on my recital...blah blah blah."

What that means, though, is that after my practice time, I'm left with all this time that I should be doing school work, but am not. That is to say, I've been spending a lot of time doing stuff for this blog. Here are a few of the highlights -

1) I've submitted this site to several new and exciting web pages, including, but not limited to: Blizg, BlogTree, Popdex, The Blogosphere Ecosystem, GeoUrl, and BlogStreet. Also, I've already mentioned two other sites, The Weblog Review and The Wizbang Blog Awards.

One cool new one that I sort of discovered through a dizzying array of links was the King of the Blogs competition. I'm really excited about this one, and I think it's worth checking out. If Nick speaks correctly, I'm slated for their next tournament. Note to self: come up with good material.

2) I quasi-returned to the new format I had tried earlier. This still isn't quite the look I was hoping for, but it'll have to suffice until I can go in and completely redo the CSS.

3) I've also made several subtle adjustments to the format which should make things a little easier for navigation.

Still on the agenda:

1) An "about me" page
2) Listing of my favorite posts (if you have suggestions please comment or email)
3) Fixing all the links to other posts. (A while back I was doing a weekly archival, which was getting a little crowded, so while I've gone to monthly archiving, the old internal links still go to the old weekly archive and hence the old design.)

Anyway, I'm sure you want something humorous for today. ("Ugh, you people and your demands!")

Well, I was browsing through Charlie's archives and was reading one of his finest posts, when I remembered something interesting.

(This is where you should probably go read that post. Trust me, it'll be better than whatever I throw out here, and it's necessary for this next sentence to make sense.)

There is a grad student at this school that addresses me as, "Andy Lee, Master of the Universe."

Now I've had some interesting nicknames in the past. Once in high school a good friend of mine decided I look like a Chuck-O (don't ask me why), and the name stuck. I should say, though, that eventually the 'O' was dropped, and now I am simply 'Chuck.' Heck, most people call me "andylee" as though it was one word. Say it to yourself. Kinda rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it? If you extend that a little bit, you get some of my more creative nicknames. I had one guy that for a whole semester would simply call me by random adverbs. "Mightily, how is your day going?" "Stupendously, when are your finals?" (Sure, there were some negative adverbs thrown in there, but why would I include those?)

Um, back to the current nickname. You see, I like it. I'm pretty sure that isn't a good thing, considering my religious beliefs, but how do you tell someone, "Please stop referring to me as Master of the Universe?" Anyone? That sentence simply refuses to form in my mouth. Oh well, I suppose I shall be called Master of the Universe until he graduates. Woe is me!

Well, I think that is going to have to do it for the time being. I'm practically falling asleep at the keyboard as it is.

Thought for the Day

When did women begin consistently shaving their legs? I was wondering that the other day, and I couldn't come up with a good answer. The first "safety razor" was patented in 1904 and took off after WWI. So that's probably when it became more commonplace. Oh, here you go, apparently it became common for rural Roman women to "remove hair with razors, pumice stones and make homemade depilatory creams made from medicinal drugs, such as bryonia," according to this site. Go figure. I guess I just answered my own question. That's unfortunate. Well, you women in the audience can at least consider how you don't have to try to shave with pumice stones. (Mmm...pumice. Oh wait, that's hummus, I'm thinking of. Nevermind.)

Well, taking yet another cue from Charlie, I've decided to include a completely self-promoting post.

First, as you have probably read about in several blogs, the Wizbang Blog Awards are currently accepting nominations. If you feel like nominating yours truly, fantastic. If not...well then you can just go...*

Secondly, I now am slated to be reviewed over at The Weblog Review, which I personally cannot believe. I was randomly visiting the site this morning and noticed an empty slot for reviewing. Only 37 more reviews until mine pops up there. I guess I'm going to have to come up with some decent material in that time, eh? (Or at least go fix those typos.)

Ok, well, here's wishing you a pleasant day.

*Andy had temporarily forgotten to take his medication this morning. Thankfully he passed out before that sentence could be completed.

Your humble author returns, sluggish and slothed out

Oh sure, I may have said that I'll have plenty of time to come up with some posts for this little blog over Thanksgiving break, but I was busier than expected...

Ok, if you believe that one I have some real estate I think you might be interested in...

Yeah, mostly my days consisted of sleeping as absolutely long as possible, lounging on the couch as much as possible, consuming more television than is healthy, and then hanging out with friends until the wee hours of the morning. Oh, and eat a whole freakin' bunch. How could I forget that? That's the essence of Thanksgiving.

But Thanksgiving is behind us now, and its autumn decorations have been hastily replaced by the red and green of Christmas. The cornucopiae with trees, pumpkins with a jolly guy shaped like a pumpkin, and turkey with ham. The shopping frenzy has begun.

Now, I personally have not done one lick of Christmas shopping yet. I've contemplated gifts for my girlfriend the violinist (sounds like a bad movie title), but ultimately have done no shopping. (I did, however, buy You Don't Know Jack Vol. 1 & 2 for myself on ebay!) For basically everyone else in America, though, the shopping season began on Friday, November 28th. It is part of our wonderful tradition here in the states the every frickin' store imaginable has record sales in the wee morning hours of the day after Thanksgiving. (Of course, those are the wee morning hours like 6-7 a.m., not like the aforementioned wee morning hours of 2-3 a.m. as mentioned before. Confusing, I know. The difference is whether these are 'late' or 'early' wee morning hours.) Of course, this ends up resulting in an increase in minivan road rage incidents and soccer-mom assaults. (Football-mom assaults for the rest of the world.)

No discount could possibly be worth fighting the masses in a mall, before the sun comes up. Give me a break!

You see, I really despise malls and anything that involves 'shopping' in general. I am perfectly content to do a great deal of my holiday shopping at Amazon.com, thankyouverymuch, and I usually do. If I do venture into a mall, it is usually during this time of year. That's about it. Even then, I have specific objectives in mind and do as little 'shopping' as possible. It is a rare occasion that I have to return to the mall a second day during the shopping season. I'd probably rather not get someone a gift than go through that mess twice. (Ok, so that's a bit of hyperbole, but isn't everything in this blog?)

Oh, I was talking about my not having done any shopping. Well, I'm not in the holiday spirit as of yet. I'm too busy. Oh sure, I wasn't that busy during the break (unless a James Bond marathon counts), but I'm going to be really busy now with my impending senior recital. Maybe after I get that out of the way, I'll find this so-called Christmas spirit everyone keeps talking about and start listening to *gasp* Christmas Carols, but until this recital is over, I don't think I'll have the time to devote any brain cells to that mess.

Example of Andy's Christmas Apathy:

My parents, for the last several years, have given each of their children (myself included) a Christmas ornament every year. This, combined with a bizarre collection of ornaments going back to my early childhood constitute 'my' ornaments. Every year after Thanksgiving, my mom, brother, and sister put up the Christmas tree and various other decorations. (They even string popcorn and cranberries by hand, freaks...) I do none of this. My dad is in charge of the lights that go on the house. Although my brother has taken over creative control. Again, I help with none of this.

My only assignment is to hang up 'my' ornaments, which I don't really care to do in the first place. This is the one thing, though, that I can't get out of doing. If I don't do it, it won't get done. Why then do I even bother, you ask? Let me put it this way, Al Pacino in Scarface plays the role of one bad-ass gangster, who doesn't take any crap from anybody. The only person he follows orders from is...his mom. You don't mess with mom, period.

Unfortunately, I neglected to do my singular task over break, despite the constant pestering from other family members. I don't think I'll be getting any gifts this year.

Thought for the Day

I don't have a TV at school, so if this is really old, I apologize.

I saw an add for the New Chicken McNuggets, and I swear to you it said, "Now made with white meat," or something to that effect.

Um...what was it made of before? I think we all knew it was faux meat, but to actually come out and advertise that...blech...