Missed Chance at Found Porn

I hate cell phones. Despite the emergency capabilities, in the long run they are useless little bits of insurance liability despite the amount of bit-ty crap you can cram in one or the cute little stickers I can slap on my RazR. I hate people who drive with them. I hate people who can’t go 2 minutes without chatting with some other vapid, cell-phone junkie. I hate people who think they don’t look like complete nutters talking to themselves in shopping centers and grocery stores. I hate people who text others in the same house because they’re too damn lazy to walk downstairs. And oh so many more. Well, maybe hate is a strong word. Replace all previous instances of hate with any one of the following: “am annoyed by”, “dislike severely” or “pity”.

Now that we all have the back-story of my wish to not let modern technology eat away my brain one wave length at a time (Darn you, Stephen King!) for one teeny-weeny millisecond-ish moment I regretted my aversion to all things cellular (I also hate genetics but that’s a different cellular story for another more futuristic time to be announced whenever I get around to figuring out what this parenthetic ramble means). If I wasn’t such an anti-cell-phone tech-geek (I know! Someone’s gonna come tear up my membership card – well, take it away at least. The paper’s a little thick, and we all know about the average computer nerd’s lack of upper body strength) I’d have photographic evidence of the 6’ tall nonsense that had me giggling like a 12 year old when you say the word “boobies”.

For 40 minutes this morning I was stuck behind this plastered on the back of a trailer.

What were these people thinking, or how much did Lance Armstrong pay to try to make this an American catch-phrase?

Look at me! I'm all introverted!!!

"Mastermind". Introverted intellectual with a preference for finding certainty. A builder of systems and the applier of theoretical models. 2.1% of total population.

Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI)

You Are 70% Weird

You're so weird, you think you're *totally* normal. Right? But you wig out even the biggest of circus freaks!

At long last....

Been a while since I mentioned the newest members of our dysfunctional cohabitation, but I've finally removed all the pics off the phone. So without further (or maybe just a teeny bit less than usual) ado I give you:

Pi (a.k.a Piewackett)

Phi (prounounced Fee, a.k.a Feeny) with a side of Pi

And for anyone wondering if Sir Conner of the Large Buttocks will be able to survive obscene doses of cuteness and the occassional wet nose in the hiney region:

The disturbingly white lump is a very sleepy and apparently pillow-esque (no fat jokes!) Conner (he's more a polar-bear dingy in real life).

Going to post the rest here:

Fuzziness Incarnate

The Evolution of Meat Puppets: Point me to the Salt-Lick

In Midland for another training. Flew in this time, so that means no transportation, no freedom… The upside is I have a great deal of free time to wax moronic; such as:

As much as man likes to believe he is far above and well beyond the average beast in the field, it always surprises and saddens me when we revert to our baser selves. For example:

Men, women, children and the occasional dog meander aimlessly, groups merging into groups until it’s hard for even the most observant observers (sounds so much nicer than “voyeur”) to tell who was with whom and so on and so forth, etc. etc. etc. There are new acquaintances, old friendships, reunions and passing-bys. Man shows his prowess by performing that which even the most advanced of primates (you know, other than us) has yet to master – the sacred rite of texting. So we wander and wait and smile shyly at strangers and admire the emotional baggage of others while we wait for the physical to arrive. There is a veritable air of the dominance of Human, all this walking upright and non-guttural communication. We are masters of our individual universes, answering to no one other than the gods of common courtesy. Then the buzzer rings and thousands upon thousands of years of evolution, of striving for supreme superiority is temporarily quashed as we are drawn to the sound like cattle to the slaughter. Eyes glaze, family ties are forgotten and it is every man for himself in the hunt for our modest (and now more than likely damaged) possessions. We are reduced from lone wanderers or family units to a milling mass of slack-jawed anticipation.

Long Live Pickle!

Long live Pickle- the coolest fishie that ever was.

No other pet has loved glam rock so much nor been quite so adept at teasing Conner into hysterics.

You will be missed.

I'll add a newer pic as soon as I get off my grieving ass and upload them.

LOOPHOLE!!!

That is all; carry on.

The Evolution of Meat Puppets - Part 2

Since the beginning of man's ability to think of himself as the superior (albeit just as fuzzy) animal on the planet, great advances have been made. We can fly like birds and swim like fish and eat smaller, cuter animals on toast with a sprig of parsley. Each generation has contributed something of value somehow (we're not going into the righteous f-ups here; just the good/quirky/not so evil). But if you sit and ponder (as I sometimes do at stoplights or jury duty or while handling machinery) all the glorious things that man has added to this world, 99.9% of the ones that are not soul-less evil on a stick have been brought about by pure and simple laziness or vanity or a disturbing combination of both.

Examples:

We are the only creatures that despite our obvious superiority over all lesser fuzzy things in the vicinity we insist on insisting that we are not descended from apes and monkeys because we have the common sense to shave off the evidence. Now don’t get me wrong – I am all for this human practice. I wish more people would take this into consideration. In fact I can think of a couple of mustaches that I’d like to take some duct tape to. (Sorry, ladies; but Jeezie Creezie! Did you know it wafts in the breeze when you breathe?)

We are the only creatures that require a way to record/rewind/replay things we missed on TV because we left the house to go do things that are meant to make us miss TV. (I’m guilty of this one... At least I was until I saw the price tag on TIVO and said, “Screw it; that’s why the media gods invented reruns”)

“I can’t wait 10 minutes for a pot pie! I want it now Now NOW!” *Ding* It doesn’t ever seem to bother us that the middle’s ice cold and the edges are molten chicken-flavored napalm.

“The TV’s waaaay over there and there’s a Beyonce’ video on and if I have to listen to her screech for one more minute I’m going to poke my eardrums out with knitting needles…” *Click* What did people do before remote controls or my butt scooting across the carpet? It took me a long time to not automatically move through the living room like a dog with worms.

Speaking of lazy ingenuity – When’s the last time I picked up a pencil? If technology ended the roaches would mock.