Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Captain Godzilla

Godzilla is dressed as a pirate right now and will soon wander the streets with Lost Sheep and Pollyanna begging for candy. He will probably be done begging before I get home. This disappoints me. His costume came with a long hair (a la Jack Sparrow) attached to the hat. This is unfortunate, because Godzilla is 2, and can't grow facial hair worth a damn-- the poor lad looks like a girl.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The problem with ferver

By now, you have probably heard that has banned Ron Paul Supporters from posting on their site. If you haven't, here's a little taste of the rationale of the ban:

Effective immediately, new users may *not* shill for Ron Paul in any way shape, form or fashion. Not in comments, not in diaries, nada. If your account is less than 6 months old, you can talk about something else, you can participate in the other threads and be your zany libertarian self all you want, but you cannot pimp Ron Paul. Those with accounts more than six months old may proceed as normal.

Now, I could offer a long-winded explanation for *why* this new policy is being instituted, but I'm guessing that most of you can probably guess. Unless you lack the self-awareness to understand just how annoying, time-consuming, and bandwidth-wasting responding to the same idiotic arguments from a bunch of liberals pretending to be Republicans can be. Which, judging by your comment history, you really don't understand, so allow me to offer an alternate explanation: we are a bunch of fascists and we're upset that you've discovered where we keep the black helicopters, so we're silencing you in an attempt to keep you from warning the rest of your brethren so we can round you all up and send you to re-education camps all at once.

Level of annoyance this causes to the Ron Paul campaign proper (scale of 0-10): 0. This is great free publicity and may even get Dr. Paul a few mentions in "real" news.

Level of perceived annoyance this causes for Ron Paul supporters who can't do much more than copy and paste "RON PAUL 2008" 100 times in a single response: 10. "OMG! The Man's trying to keep us down! They don't want us to be heard!"

Level of actual annoyance this causes for Ron Paul supporters who can't do much more than copy and paste "RON PAUL 2008" 100 times in a single response: 0.5. Relax, chemically imbalanced Ron Paul supporters, nearly the whole rest of the internet is still open and ready to business with you.

Level of annoyance to Ron Paul supporters who seem normal: 8. Now there is a mess to be cleaned up, chemically imbalanced Ron Paul supporters to calm down, and our own morale to pick back up.

Level of annoyance this causes for 6.84. Evan though Redstate thinks it has solved their problem. Their plight is not yet over. Several times over the last hour I've gotten slow responses from their site, and I predict no fewer than 3,000 emails from angry Ron Paul supporters being angry and 25 from loyal readers of their site being grateful. Not to mention all the extra page views from being dugg or blogged about by The NY Times. That should add a little to the "time-wasting," and "bandwidth-wasting" those poor folks there have to put up with.

Monday, October 22, 2007

I don't need to ask for directions, we're not lost

Vote Ron Paul
So now this is a political blog. Tomorrow I may go back to writing about the rugrats who live in my house, fast food, or whining about my job. If I were a more prolific writer, or at least had a longer attention span, I might split my writings into multiple blogs for various topics. But I'm not, and I don't, so I won't. So I'm lost without a topic. I won't be able to keep readers interested, because no one will know upon what topic I will pontificate from day to day. Oh well.

Deal with it.

Sunday, October 21, 2007


I wouldn't go so far as to kill him, but if Dane Cook's head exploded tomorrow, I probably would experience great joy

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

I don't want it, really.

I am now making my annual decree:

I do not want any gifts for Christmas!
Or my birthday. Or Easter, Hanukkah, St. Valentine's Day or any other holiday you think requires gift giving. You do not have a clue about my tastes, and I have enough crap.
Now that's out of the way, here are the exceptions:
  1. You are under the age of 13. If you have not yet seen the 13th anniversary of your birth, I will accept any and all gifts you wish to give me, and treasure them forever. I still have all the rocks Godzilla picked up when we went walking around the neighborhood.
  2. Artwork. But only if you created it, or if it has been appraised for $10,000 (USD) or more in the last six months. If you created it, please limit yourself to one (1) piece of art per gift-giving event, unless you are a good artist. You will know if you are not a good artist when you see your ugly crap in my garbage cans come New Year's. If rule 1 applies, you will not know if you are not a good artist until after you turn 13.
  3. Money. If Rule 1 applies, do not give me money. I'll feel bad when I spend it.
  4. You. Spend time with me. If you care enough to give me a gift, I probably like you, and will appreciate your time more than any material gift. Also falling into this category is sending me a heartfelt letter or email, or just giving a call and telling me why you like me.

--End decree--

Oh, the happy poo

Hours after lamenting my perceived failure on the subject, Godzilla just sat down on the potty and made a big poo last night. No asking, no cajoling, no reminding, no anything. Just wandered on over to his little potty chair and did his business. We made the required big fuss. It was fantastic. I know it's been said thousands of times, but I am continually amazed at the experiences considered joyful when small children are involved.

Monday, October 15, 2007

High brow stories of poo

Godzilla's having some trouble potty training. The little guy will urinate in his potty regularly, with glee even. But the poo, getting him to poo in the potty is very difficult. When I ask him if he has to go he gets this fearful look in his face that makes me want to cry every time I see it. I somehow think this is my fault, and wish I could make it better for him. Pollyanna tells me this not so, setbacks are common, there is no possible way this could be my fault. She is right, of course, but I just worry about damaging him permanently.

Look where you're going

Along with pissing me off on rural highways, other drivers make me want to cut my Achilles tendon on major limited access roads as well. The early part of my trip home takes me on eight and ten lane sections of Interstate 80. It is often slow going during rush hour, the 9 mile stretch I ride taking fifteen to thirty minutes most days. Occasionally, like last Thursday, it takes much longer.

For about four miles, the traffic was stop and go, taking about forty minutes for the normally ten minute or less stretch of road. I sit and wait. I listen to the traffic on the radio. No mention of my section of 80. No mention of 80 at all. I change the station to music. I move up 100 yards. I stop. I sing. I move up 200 yards. I stop. I change the station back to traffic. Still no mention of why I'm waiting. I yell at no one in particular. I change the station back to music. I move 100 yards.

I repeat this process many times before I finally see what is causing the delay. A two car accident, plus a police car with its lights on. The three vehicles take up only only lane, plus the shoulder. And they're ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD.

Yes, that's right folks, the accident that caused me to lose a half hour of my life breathing the lovely exhaust from hundreds of cars was on the other side of a divided highway.

I have no idea why these people want me to hate them.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Absence makes the heart wither

Since I started my current job, I have had plenty of time to contemplate my existence. Between the 9 hours a day at work, and the 3-4 hours commuting, the voices in my head have a captive audience with little distraction more than 12 hours a day (with the exception of when Cuddly Porcupine drives us both to work- then the voices only get 6 or 7 hours). What I usually end up focusing on is how alone I feel. After working 6 hour days a half hour from home, with my days off usually being weekdays, and being unemployed after that, I miss my time with Godzilla. I used to be able to take him to the playground, walk around the neighborhood, or just sit and read with him for hours at a time. And when other people that he loved came around, he still wanted to spend time with me. I did not fall to the side like I have the past few nights. Godzilla and Mothra are the only things worth anything to me. To be ignored by him, like I have, hurts.

I know he is two. He can't possibly know how much this hurts. I put on a brave face and be happy when he is near me, partly because of my perceived responsibility of eliminating sadness from small children's lives, but partly because if I don't, he'll want to be around me even less. I know he loves me, but I am humanly selfish and want him to love me most.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Pick a pace, please

I like to drive very fast, which is unfortunate, because I drive many two-lane roads on my commute to and from work. I often get stuck behind people who have no business driving on any day but Sunday.

I could probably handle the occasional slowpoke if it were not for the four-lane sections (two in each direction) of these same roads. It is this moment where these inconsiderate sloth-loving asses decide to speed up. That's right, the same idiot who does 30mph (in a 55mph) when I have no opportunity to pass him, accelerates to 70 (with the same 55mph limit) when I do have a chance to get in front of him.

So I am left with two choices. I can either push my crappy 4-cylinder 1996 Chevy Malibu to 80 and try to get past this moron before I'm down to one lane, or I can stay put and end up doing 30 when we merge again.

I have no idea why these people want me to hate them.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Next year has never been so far away

...he gets up! My God he might be able to win this after all! But then, thud. Not only does he not get up again, but a few of the other runners step on him on the way to the finish. It is the most excruciating thing you have ever witnessed. I cannot cry, I cannot move. I stand and stare as the EMTs move to rescue him, part of me not caring because it was his own damn fault. Could be worse, though. I could have been a Buffalo Bills' fan in the early nineties.

Oh wait. I was.

Mothra arrives

Mothra has arrived. She's cute, but other than that, she doesn't do much. Well, she does eat, sleep and crap, but cute is really the only thing going for her right now. Mothra is an unfortunate nom de guerre for a cute little girl., but I wanted to stick with the Japanese monster movie theme, and Godzilla's name definitely fits his personality. Maybe when Mothra develops her own personality, she can get a new one.