Oh snap!

That’s right – under the wire yet again! You thought an entire year would go by without me posting? You were almost right, but whatever. You don’t have to be such a *dick* about it.

Anyway, plenty of stuff going on. We’re having another boy in April – name is tentatively Audric, which I still can’t believe I slipped past A-dawg; it sounds like he should have a yellow exclamation point above his head. I’m still working at MAKE magazine, which is going so-so (not enough hours to do everything that needs doing, extreme stress and pressure, etc.). Our house is coming along, despite toddlers flushing plastic thingies down the toilet. I’ve been looking at pictures of snow in the Northeast with my sad/frowny face on for all of your poor sucke…. people still there (don’t worry – you’ll get the last laugh when California’s economy collapses).

Super boring post. What do you want from me – I haven’t written anything here for almost a year.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

My Triumphant Return!

Weep! WEEEEEEEP! (that’s my encouraging you to weep from my triumphant return).

I bet you thought it would be an entire year before I posted something here again. Well … you were almost right. It got awkward, I’m not going to lie to you. I’d boot up the site here and there and think – “man, I should write something,” and then I’d go back to doing whatever the hell it was I was doing. Something involving ponies, no doubt.

Then, after Gideon was born, I thought “maybe now is a good time?”, but … and I don’t mean to spoil things for you here – it wasn’t. I had a lot of stuff to say, but time kind of got to be a premium. Plus all I wanted to do was write about Gideon, and my wife has that covered, so I was stuck out there. Alone. So … so alone.

But, I figured today – what the hell. I’m starting a new job on Monday, and we’re moving to Sebastopol, CA in the very near future (our grand experiment to move back to the east coast failed, so we remain here in the beautiful California sunshine. Happy and sad, if you take my meaning). I’ve also been reading the always-funny-but-sometimes-depressing Captain, and I’ve been DM’ing D&D via Fantasy Grounds, and it would appear that the writing bug has reattached itself to my medulla or wherever the hell it lives.

I haven’t felt the same fury over our government for awhile there – I think I got beat down towards the end, then came out on the other side a little bit happier and a little bit worse for wear, like an abused spouse or a pony that has been whipped too much. Poor ponies.

Luckily for you, gentle reader (and I guessing there’s only one of you left out there, and it’s me), there is still plenty of shit to piss me off, though. Huzzaaaah!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Big changes

Obviously, for those who know – there have been some pretty big changes around here. I’ve been mostly doing updates on Twitter, but my wife is a much better blogger than I am – you can find a lot of her stuff over here

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Dream Job

For those of you listening at home, I just wanted to share my dream job, listed here on craigslist. In case this is the future and that link no longer exists, or exists in some strange way that is uncomfortable, here is the job description:

Golf Course Greenskeeper

This will be a seasonal part-time position. Mid-March to Late October, 32 hours or less a week. Previous golf course experience is beneficial.
Job duties include but not limited to:
Mowing, weeding, edging, set-up, raking bunkers, planting trees and shrubs, helping with irrigation work, watering, laying sod and other golf course tasks
Must be able to lift 50 lbs
Regularly exposed to humid and/or wet conditions, outside weather conditions and various temperatures, moving mechanical parts, sharp objects and a loud work environment

Must have valid driver’s license
Must pass drug test and background check

* Compensation: $10.00/hr
* This is a part-time job.

This is, hands down, the best job I think I have ever seen. If I was rich, this is the job I’d do for fun. We knew a guy back doing archaeology named O-Dawg who worked on a golf course every sunday morning. He loved that job. He’d get up at 6, work outside until noon, and be home in time to watch TV and do whatever the hell else he needed to do. And he did that shit in NEW JERSEY, armpit of the universe. To do it in California? Pure. Unadulterated. Heaven.

Thanks for not taking that job with the oil companies when I was younger, dad. I could be rich right now, and working as a Golf Course Greenskeeper. Damn you!

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Octopus II – Electric Deathaloo

OK, so more octopode news (here’s a link to my other warnings) Maybe I need to start a new website called eightleggeddeath.com or something.

Anyway, 2 more articles! My man Jim Mac sent me this one – to summarize, and octopus at the Dunedin aquarium in New Zealand went missing for five days. They found him – and I swear to Christ I’m not making this up – making a break for the door. Another octopus had tried to escape from the same tank before, and they found him halfway up the staircase. My first question, of course, is what to ask what the hell they’re doing to these ocotopi in New Zealand. The second question goes something like … WERE THEY FUCKING WALKING ACROSS THE FLOOR, OR WERE THEY DRIVING LITTLE SPACESHIPS OR SOMETHING? Either one would make sense, to be completely honest. Either one should mean we need to nuke the entire site from orbit.

And this one was a doozy – again, to summarize, an octopus at the Santa Monica Pier aquarium apparently “disassembled the recycle system’s valve” inside his tank and flooded the place with 200 gallons of seawater. No doubt he was hoping there would be children there, but he didn’t get an opportunity. My favorite part of the story: “The tiny octopus, which is about the size of a human forearm when its appendages are extended, floated lazily in the water that remained in its tank. It watched intently through glass walls and portholes as workers struggled to dry the place out in time for the day’s first busload of schoolchildren to arrive on a 9:30 a.m. field trip.”

Oh, I BET he fucking watched them clean up. And you know what he thought about that entire time? Murder. About how his experiment to see what the recycling sytem did was just a little piece in the puzzle, flooding the place, screaming children and adults crushed under a deluge of water, and him wandering around, not eating, but … RECYCLING. You don’t even want to know what that means. I think he also pulled the recycle system so he could get more parts to make a weapon – a laser of some sort, in all probability.

So, in closing – the economy, the environment, the war … none of that shit matters. What you need to concern yourself with is less Dow 6,000 and more Octopode 2012, when they take over the goddamned world. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Bye Bye Facebook

Don’t be alarmed – I haven’t unfriended you. But I have deleted my Facebook account. It’s nothing personal, I promise you – it just ended up being another avenue of ingress/egress that I felt like I didn’t need. Also, people kept tagging me in their albums, and I dislike that. Intensely.

I was going to use this as an opportunity to kind of rail against social networking (I had my soapbox out and everything), but then I kind of figured – why? I’ve seen people make some pretty shitty decisions on social networking sites, and I work for a company right now whose entire revenue stream involves covering up those mistakes, so all I’ll say is … please be careful out there. Someday you might want a different job, or to ride under the wire on something, or kind of be left alone for lack of a better word, and that might not always be possible. Once the cat is out of the bag, it’s tough (possible, but tough) to put it back inside.

At any rate – it was awesome getting back in touch with a lot of you. I’ll see you at the next big thing.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | Leave a comment

Man time

Dear Reader,

How have you been? Good, good. Seen any really great movies lately? Or … books, or something?

OK, I lied. I don’t give a shit about any movies you’ve seen. I have something much more important to tell you. Are you sitting down? If not – you read on your computer while standing? That’s kind of weird.

We’re totally having a boy.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “How was the outcome of this even in doubt? Someone who is 110% man like yourself can’t HOPE but to send your Y chromosome rocketing through the DNA strands of your future child! I mean – the Y should stand for ‘Y would you even think I’m going to be a girl?'”

I know, I know.
I totally agree with you

But the fact of the matter is that you never know in these circumstances. It’s completely possible that my arch-nemesis, wherever he or she might be, attempted to thwart my plans of universal domination by modifying the chromosomes of my unborn child in an attempt to have my wife give birth to a child of a sex I didn’t want, thus sending me into a downward spiral of drinking and death.

But I thwarted him (or her), you see, because I didn’t give a SHIT about what the sex is going to be.

There is an entire UNIVERSE of things to worry about, and I confess that gender is somewhere around position 100 billion in my panoply of concerns, right next to “what if she/he doesn’t have a properly formed pinkie fingernail” and “what if she/he wants to go on Spring Break when they’re 15″ (answer: no. That’s an easy one). And don’t worry – I’m not just a professional worrier. I totally helped. While my wife was being prodded with the wand, I made the following contributions:

Me, to my wife: “I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s something alive in there”

Me, to my wife and the doctor: “20! Yup! Sorry – there are 20 fingers and toes total. 10 of each. So … put that in the computer, or something.”

Me, to myself, after receiving a picture of my son’s pee-pee: “I am 100% keeping this to show to your prom date”

So, to any and all concerned – it definitely looks like a baby in there. I also understand he now responds to sounds, so I’ve been shouting encouragement at him every day, which makes for awkward scenes as I scream “You can do it! You’re THE BEST!” into my wife’s stomach at the super market. People stare, but I tell them they should be offering sacrifices to their new lord and master, and that usually gets them moving. I just don’t understand why we have to get cops involved every time, but whatever.

At any rate – more updates as they come! And begin preparing the palinquin for the birth of your new Lord: “Facekick” (name pending spousal buy-in).

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Happy 2009, Fuckers

So, first things first. 2009 is going to be awesome. Why? Because that will be the year that my wife gives birth to whatever world conqueror is the result of my potent seeds.

That’s right, you sons-of-bitches. My wife is pregnant. And before you snickeringly ask if it’s mine, I will save you the time – of course it is. I’m so much man that I could probably just look at a girl and get her pregnant, though I don’t do that for obvious reasons. Taxes, for example.

2009 will also be awesome for many other reasons. Reasons that are awesome. But the most awesome thing, of course, will be the awe-inspiring birth of my child, who will be named something totally awesome like Tiberius or Xaos or Peter or something. I haven’t thought that far ahead. If it’s a girl, she will not be named Candi (no offense, Candi. I think you dance beautifully). Or … almost anything ending in “i”, I guess. Bambi. Stabbi. Nothing like that.

At any rate, A-dawg is currently 16 weeks pregnant, as of this coming Wednesday. About a month ago we went for the first ultrasound, which was pretty freaky – to wit, I was sitting with my wife looking at the monitor where they project the baby picture with science, and there was blackness and then, all of a sudden, bam! There’s a baby, just like in health class. And I exclaimed “Holy shit! It’s a baby!” and hugged my wife’s head. And then the picture moved over the fucking heart, which flickered on the screen, and then a voice whispered in my head “dude. I think that thing is ALIVE!” and my old life downed a fifth of Jack Daniels, boarded a ship bound for Tomorrowland, and sailed away, never to return. I saw him standing on the crow’s nest, swaying drunkenly, and he didn’t even look back. Heavy.

Last week we went and heard the heartbeat, which was loud and strong, much as you would imagine the heartbeat of a champion thoroughbred like myself would sound. I can’t believe this kid hasn’t busted out of the womb already, charging like mad through the streets, making women swoon and men run in fear (or vice-versa if she’s a girl. Or not – I’m not biased. Fuck it. As long as someone swoons and someone runs in fear). But my wife assures me he or she must bake a little longer. Whatever.

Obviously, that pretty much will eclipse everything else that happens in 2009 (sorry, Obama). But consider yourselves warned. And have a great new year!

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Our New Masters

People might think I’m crazy, but I think octopi are going to rule the fucking world. People might also think I’m crazy because I keep pelting cops with oreos, but I can assure you my latest avant garde art piece entitled “Where Are The Donuts Now?” will be the toast of le Centre Pompidou, just as soon as my legal team finishes the paperwork. Oh, it’s going to be a break-out hit. I am going to be SO RICH, and anyone who was ever mean to me EVER is going to feel the full force of what several hundred thousand dollars can do to someone else’s reputation (side note: figure out how you can make someone sad with several hundred thousand dollars).

Where was I? Ah yes – are benevolent masters, octopi. Need proof?

  • An octopus named Otto has “been annoyed by the bright light shining into his aquarium” at the Sea Star Aquarium in Germany, so he climbs up on the rim of his tank and squirts it with water, thus shorting it out. He’s also known for “juggling the hermit crabs in his tank” and “[throwing] stones against [the tank's] glass, damaging it”. Finally, he sometimes rearranges his tank, building a deep pit where he puts other fish and tells them to put the lotion in the basket.

    I can see him now in my mind’s eye, watching the human beings walk by in boredom, and thinking to himself “I wonder how they work. I’m going to take them apart to find out, and then I will be the one on the outside of the tank.”

  • I can’t remember where I read this, but … some aquarium decided that it would be an awesome idea to add sharks into a big tank that had a bunch of fish and an octopus in it. Every week they’d come in and there would be a dead shark in the tank. They decided to film the tank overnight to see what happened.

    A shark swims along, thinking it’s pretty fucking badass. “I’m pretty badass,” he thinks. “I’m a shark. I’m a killing MACHINE, bro. You don’t want a piece of this. Who’s going to mess with me? WHO WANTS A PIECE OF THE … hey, what’s that?…”

    that’s what I imagine the shark’s last thoughts were. The octopus would lie camouflaged, in wait. As the shark strutted by, it would pop out of the shadows, grab the shark, and choke it to death. Then … I swear to Christ … it would let the shark go, floating its corpse back to the surface. It wasn’t interested in eating. It was only interested in murder. Octopi are the ninjas of the deep.

  • This is about squids, but they are in the same family or something. Some fool scientists were in a shark cage, feeding the giant squid (I don’t remember where I saw this, either). And there’s this other giant squid in the background, just kind of watching – watching while a giant piece of salami inside a box fed them anchovies (squid hate anchovies). And this squid swims over, reaches a tentacle through the cage … and unlocks the door and starts to open it. Yeah – it had sat there and figured out how the door worked by watching the scientists get in and out of it, and thought to itself “fuck your little science box. I am 100% going to open it and eat you.”

So this is a message to our future masters – please don’t hurt me. I am an artist. And I will work tirelessly to subjugate my brethren. Please be merciful. And if you could slay anyone who was ever mean to me EVER, I would greatly appreciate it.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Bibliophagic Muse

Today, I spent $30 on paper.

I don’t know why I did it – wait, that’s not true. I don’t want to say I know what I did it. But I know.

I’m hoping my muse eats paper.

See, I’ve always liked college-ruled, yellow notebook paper. When I look at it, I see myself writing “STR, INT, WIS” and the rest of the Dungeons and Dragons stats in neat rows down the left-hand side of the page. I can feel the excitement as I look over at my dice, the hanging moment between what is and what will be, the moment before you call on fate and cast, as they say, the die. The page speaks to me of adventure, new beginnings, fantastic worlds…

I hoped the paper would bring some of it back. Re-invigorate my dying-please-don’t-be-dead muse, because I haven’t heard from her in awhile. Or I haven’t spoken to her, at any rate.

So, I go to the Giant Paper Megastore (sorry, Dunder Mifflin) and they only have 6-packs of the paper I need. And a personal notebook for “everyday thoughts.” And a pen with a writing action I fancy I like. And home I go.

I wish I could say I flew home and tore into the paper, anxious to write. But I didn’t. Don’t know why. I could hear the paper calling to me from the other room as I studiously watched T.V. (it had a crinkly voice). And it whispered, very, very faintly…

So I finally sat down to write. Grab my pen. Stare at the tabula rasa. Nothing comes. I put the paper real close to my heart and hope it wakes her up.

Funny thing with muses … you never know.

I tell myself to write. Anything. Something, preferably. So I start, and I like how the letters look crawling across the page. It’s going OK…

…but my hand hurts like Hell. A physical reminder not to let your writing muscles (wherever they might reside) get out of shape. Nothing’s more pissed off than a fat, under-exercised muse.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Comments Off