your baby doesn't love you, anymore

Oh, dang, it's Tuesday isn't it? F. I was sitting around thinking it was Wednesday and how I was going to have exciting Bolts playoff soccer tomorrow night. But, alas, the smell of blood is in the distance and I will have to wait another night for sweet, sweet, victory. And hey, look at that, do some dishes and viola'! it's Wednesday now. I guess, in a way, that makes me psychic, no?

So, everybody loves Dognutz, yes? Well, good. It is true that I got about 50 times the visitors on that website than I get here, toiling away in my blogger sweatshop. Man, those were good times indeed. Who cares if I was a dork (besides Bronwyn?)? Actually, I think a lot of chicks cared, a lot. Who's laughing now Hunchback??

Anyway,the title . . . yes, so the baby, doesn't love me anymore. He doesn't need me. Well, he doesn't now ALWAYS need my sandman powers of sleep persuasion. That is good. I wasn't keen on rocking a 14-year old to sleep in 2024, but it's sad nonetheless. In the plus ledger, he thinks I am f'ing hilarious. For serious. My material KILLS with that kid. It only makes me love him all the more. But, we'll see if it lasts past his 6-month birthday. If he's like a girlfriend/future wife, he won't find me funny after 6 months. That's the general rule for any bf/gf-type situation. Matter of fact, I think RS2 is the only person to find me funny over more than a 6-month period. And she shattered that record at like 30+ years. Things were waining there for awhile, but then RS4 came along and was comedic gold! 100,000 bonus points to the both of them.

i INVENTED terrible and embarrassing internet postings

Many months ago, I took exception to Alan’s assertion that I had somehow appropriated Perez Hilton’s photoshop stylings. I’ve never read his blog, but I am aware that he crudely modifies files in MSPaint (or whatever) and posts the pictures. Now, I have no idea how long his blog has been around, but I know I’ve been doing bad photoshopping since the mid-90’s. For instance, allow me to present stikdead:



That ANIMATED gif (OMG you can animate gifs! Holy crap - let's have a dork off!) was drawn by yours truly in, I don't know, 1995/96. Yes, this was right after Al Gore INVENTED THE INTERNET. It was like, he invents it. RING-A-DINGY-DINGY.

me: Hello?
ag: Dude.
me: Yah.
ag: Fuck.
me: What? Tipper probs?
ag: No. I've invented something.
me: Global warming cash cow?
ag: No, but good idea.
me: Inward singing?
ag: No. Unpossible.
me: I don't know man. What?
ag: Double-U, Double-U, Double-U.
me: Uhhhh, losing me.
ag: The internet man. I just invented the fucking internet.
me: Sounds . . . cool. How do I interface with that exactly? Teletype? Messenger pony?
ag: Computer machines.
me: Ok. What can I do on it?
ag: Not much, at first. Go into incredibly slow chat rooms and make friends before they get WAY too creepy, read news and post your own stuff.
me: Wait. I can post my own things onto AlGoreNet?
ag: Dude, that's pretentious. I'm just calling it WWW or "internet."
me: My bad. So what could I put on there?
ag: Well, you can write stuff, you know, plaintext. Funny stories and whatnot. Scores for your intramural flag football team, and even post pictures. Pictures which in hindsight will clearly demonstrate why you never had a chance to get any squirrel in college.
me: Huh? Wait. Back up. What was that last part? Why I won't get any what in college? I'm only a sophomore Al. And there are so many ladies here.
ag: Right. I was talking about your friends.
me: Cool. So with the pictures?
ag: Yah.
me: What about one stick figure blowing off another stick figure's head - japanimation style?
ag: Let me code that [typey-type-type] Ok, you can try it now.

And then I drew stikdead. Best day of my life. True story. (At least the part about getting girls. Which I never understood. I mean, I had great features. LOOK HOW STRONG I AM!)


AND bladder control!


And tall hair!


And bad glasses!


And TARTUFFE!


You could have learned all this and more on the Dognutz Home Page.


Ok, first, let me explain Dognutz. Well, there’s not much to explain. A kid I caddied with took to deriding his fellow caddies with the delightfully mocking “dognutz.” Naturally, I started calling my friends the same. It was only a small leap from there to “what should we call our webpages?”. The obvious answer being NOT google, but instead Dognutz.

Having established a name, we installed a web server on Erk’s Compaq in the dorms and ran a web server off of it. Good work dognutz. Now, we need content. So, what do you put on there in 1995? Hmmm, maybe some Dognewz?


The Monotony of Monotony


Well, things with Dognutz are pretty much going according to schedule. Watch a lot of TV...and watch a lot of TV. As soon as Brian gets his booty over to the computer labs we'll get our heads rotating on the title page. It'll be cool - we swear! [Would have been cool, but never happened. -ed.] We (Brian, Jason, and I) just had this really drawn out argument about the merits of animal testing. Jason, revealing a self-esteem problem, considers himself only as important as a mouse. [Kind of an odd dude.] Anyway, I don't think that anyone (with the exception of Ryan - who went home) has been out of the apartment for more than 20 minutes this weekend, so the place is beginning to smell. [Already smelled - terrible.] Hey, it keeps all the chicks away. [Accurate.]

Update Newz...

• In a strange twist, Lee and Stephanie are splitsville. Details are sketchy. [Sluts.]



• Could Hooper and Christy's fairy-tale relationship be coming to an end? We'll find out. [It did and when I came home from class he was breaking up with her in our living room. AWKWARD.]



• Roger made his debut as a stand-up comedian. For ever-important details go here. [That link doesn't work, but it was totally hilarious, I'm sure.] Also, Roger is obsessing over Salley [Hunchback.] and wondering if he will EVER go on a date with her. [No.] How 'bout it Salley? [Even though we were like 1 of 10 sites on the internet there was no worry that she'd actually read that - or this for that matter. Some things you can always rely on.]



• Brian got turned down by a really hot woman, but is determined to press on. [He decided the first girl he was going to talk in his life would be the hottest chick on campus. Usually goes well in bullshit teen movies and nowhere else, this not being the exception.]

Gotta go watch some TV.[Two TVs, no sound, closed captioning on and music playing.]

---

Don't forget this is before like Huffington Post and all that. So this was some hard-hitting shit. Now, naturally, the entire website was not devoted to my lack of skill with the ladies (though that did consume a significant portion of it.) There was also - The Tommy Boy Homepage!

Movie homepages were a big thing back then. You'd take your favorite movie and you'd post a bunch of soundbites and pictures and whatnot and run with it. I had the Tommy Boy homepage and it actually got "a lot" of visits. Of course, that's relative to this blog, so we're talking like 12 dudes a day. But hey, that's nothing to spit at.

But, all of this is kind of tangential to Alan's comment. The real star of the Dognutz Homepage was the Head Pages. The Head Pages were, quite simply, our heads "photoshopped" on top of other stuff. I have to quote photoshop because they were actually "paint shop pro'ed" on top of other stuff.

Please take a look at this:


And this:


And this:


I suspect this is self-evidently awesome:


And help me out here:


And please, please, please tell me why we didn't have ladies ALL OVER US? It's a total mystery. It must have been all the Axis and Allies my dorky friends played that scared 'em all off.

Thanks for joining me on this trip down memory lane. As you can see, I am a long-time fan and proponent of shoddy computer art. I've been working not hard at it for 15 long years.

despite the fact I really have to pee

Well, theMomica has finally acquiesced and admitted the baby looks like me. She still contends that the baby has her "eye shape." I mean, talk about a reach! Is eye shape even a recognized facial feature. Doubtful. What I always tell her is that he looks like me and thank God he's a boy. Because, really, I'd be an ugly boy. I'm tellin' ya straight.

At any rate, baby is good - thanks for asking. Your life kind of revolves around the little guy. Who knew? Well, we all do. Now I think since I'm a little older and a lot of my friends have kids I was ready for the whole "life changing" thing. But honestly, I don't feel any different per se. I mean, there's this tiny man that I love with all my heart, but otherwise I didn't change at all. I didn't have any sweet skills descend on me. Like I can't shoot bees out of my mouth or anything. So, I guess I never had the IT CHANGES EVERYTHING moment.

Anyway, I've been spending most of my non-baby/work time playing sports and reading. I wish he was old enough to take/enjoy. Actually, take that back. If I'm going to tell him I was pro, I can't have him with any legit memories about the incredibly slow pace of play I demonstrated.

the induction will be televised

Well, not, but written about later.

Ok, so, tonight's the night! Well, probably tomorrow's the day, but we're checking in to the hospital tonight to be induced due to potential baby bigness. Admittedly, the whole size estimation is somewhere between witchcraft and voodoo, but the thought is to err on the side of safety/smaller baby. Hmm, that's all I really have to say about that. I'm feeling kind of calm, but sweaty. I get the chills when I'm really anxious. Look for that later!

Also, my pops is going in for surgery on Wednesday. If you have like 18 to 20 hours available today/tomorrow you can pray/meditate for/on all those things: cuddlebunny, theMonica, my pops and me. I will probably need the most help ultimately as this will all tie in with my hit alterna-rock band, Provider Anxiety. Look for my new hit single, Midnight Porkchops, on iTunes soon!

At any rate, wish me luck! And expect some silence here which would equate to the usual silence experienced after I submit a post.

drunk on Monday

Can only lead to great things all week, yes? Or a horrible Tuesday morning, you say. Well, if there is one thing I have learned it's that you are wise, wise indeed. But, I will drink some extra aqua before beddy-by time and make myself all nice and hydrated.

I hadn't planned on getting overly unsober, but we were at theMonica's work holiday party. Now, normally this is not means to a drinking end, but there were tickets. Six tickets designating the # of drinks I was allowed to purchase (theMonica was drinking water, which required 0 tickets. Score.). That being the case, it would have been unwise, nay, unpatriotic, nay-nay, INHUMAN, to not drink my alloted allocation. After all, the tickets represented a drink that was pre-purchased. How ungrateful of me it would have been not to partake in all of them.

So, I hiked up the skirt and got to work. 6 drinks plus the freebie I received from a co-workers of theMonica consumed. High fives all around. High fives until I am involved in all those meetings tomorrow with a pounding head and bloodshot eyes. Nevertheless, the tickets have been conquered.

the gorging continues then fades

Well, my peoples, Thanksgiving is over. Do Canadians know why I was away? I assume yes. I remember when I was in Toronto being fascinated with the coverage of US news. It was like being in the US! And then I met some Canadian chicks and gave one my email (SHE asked!) and she never emailed me. I can only assume because she hated/s Americans. Right? I mean, why wouldn't you email me? Deep-seated resentment - yes. Oh, but after that night, the next day I was like top 25 hangovered. Ugh. And we were driving across town to see a buddy's cousin at work. The driver of the car was a big stop-go guy. Like if he could move the car 8 feet he'd slam on the gas and then the brake. When we go to the coffee shop-type place I ordered eggs and dry toast. They thought dry toast was some weird American thing, but really I was just trying to prevent projectile vomiting in their nice establishment. (Side note: "projectile" is the Q to the U of vomiting, not only recommended, but necessary.)

Speaking of being drunk, I was trying on Thanksgiving. But the thing is (and as hoboes everywhere have taught us) continually shoving food in your turkey hole makes it difficult to get your buzz on. Forget turkey - stuffing, desserts, candies, green beans - whatever - all of them are buzz killers, but oh-so delicious. Lesson learned.

On a serious not, give my dad a shout out to JC/your preferred deity/send some good vibrations. He has been struggling health-wise and has sarcoma (a cancerous tumor of connective tissue). The prognosis is mixed; most importantly, it has not spread. Unfortunately, they're concerned about the blood flow to his leg/the possibility of him losing it. So, just putting it out there. I try not to worry about things that have not happened, but it's tough when it's your pops.

high school chicks . . . still laughing after all these years

I was driving home from work today and let out a ferocious yawn, uncovered. (This despite Modest Mouse's warning that "You're not invisible inside your car.") At that second, a car of high school girls drove by. The one in back looked, laughed and pointed. I don't know what was so hilarious. I did not shoot stinging bees out of my mouth or anything. I mean, listen deary, when you get to my age it's all I can do to prevent falling asleep on the way home.

At any rate, it's not anything I'm not used to. In fact it's like my trademark. Roger: Laughed at by High School Chicks Since 1990. (TM).

In other news, the groundhog lives. Soph - send me some sulphur. More on that later. I know I've left a lot of coyote urine questions, how should I say, lingering.

miss me?

The post that the innertubes ate.

Whenever I'm gone, I always ask if you miss me. Of course, you probably didn't even realize I was gone. Well, I was. theMonica and I were in New England. We went to Hartford, Providence, Plymouth, Sandwich and Boston. I think that's it.

At any rate, the blog has been neglected as you see. Thanks to all the well-wishers. As I said to a friend the other day, "I have a blog that like 8 Canadian women read." For serious, what would I do without you? I don't think theMonica even reads this thing anymore. Heck - *I* don't read it. I mean, I guess technically I shouldn't have to, but I should PROOFread, right? I don't even do that! It's fantastic.

More to come on this on other topics in the near future. Or 2 weeks from now. You know how it is with me.

enter comments below

great balls of fire

aka, "Hey, I hyper-extended my groin a little and have to play hockey tonight. Maybe I should put some icy hot on it. Great idea!

i'm drinking for 3

stupider

I can’t spell words that have s’s and c’s in them. Not words with s’s and c’s individually like cat or sat, but where they’re neighbors or otherwise make the same noise – like license and obscene and condense. I am always wanting to add extra c’s or s’s or putting them where there wasn’t one to begin with.

This is part of a larger phenomenon. The phenomenon of getting dumber as I get older. I was working on something that I had done before - not EXACTLY the same thing (not that dumb yet) - but similar. I found the example and it kind of blew my mind that it worked. I thought, "Dang I was so much smarter last year." It was quite strange.

Eventually, I figured everything out and restored my lack of faith in myself.

workins'!

Summer is starting to leave us. It's still warm - very lovely today - but I know what the morrow brings. The morrow brings tons and tons of leaves dumped on my beautiful, grassless yard. And the morrow after morrow brings tons and tons of pure, white snow unto my cracked, crumbling driveway. Do you know what the street value of my property will be?

At any given time I have 8 to 10 tabs on my firefox open to articles I am "going to read" or "am reading". But, it's tough. I'm at work staring at a computer for 8 hours a day at a minimum, so when I come home, I'd rather watch some tv or something. Wait, that's the same thing without a keyboard. I'd rather watch a movie . . . no. I'd rather go backpacking through the Alps. Ok, that should be a big enough divergent. But truthfully, I usually come home and cut up some sticks and then read a little or watch the Indians lose or pop in a netflix (sorry to you that found me via a "sex in netflix" search; I have no insight on the matter).

What's now for me? Well, I'm back in training. I've decided that I eat entirely too much junk. I don't want to get rid of all the junk from my diet, that's no fun. But I figure if I can cut it by about 50% I'll be better off for the effort. I have also been drinking less. This is entirely a function of getting older/friends having babies/fewer social engagements. I always figured this would happen and it's all well and good. I'm getting too old for slugging 'em back 3 days a week. That said, I think I'm taking Friday off because my Steelers are opening the season Thursday night. How's that for avoiding temptation?

So, blog vote. Do these meandering pointless-ish posts do anything for you? Are you waiting for the punchline? Sometimes the writing of the thing is the thing. Especially when the resulting thing kind of sucks. I'll get 'em next time.

i have 3 followers

The revolution begins tomorrow . . . you know what I'm talking about. It will be blogged, but I am going to write in generalities so as not to reveal my plans.

Well, I had a roller hockey game tonight (technically last night). We won. So there. I fell though once, unassisted, just kind of slipped. It is . . . moist on that sportcourt stuff. As the humidity builds, your wheels get kind of slick. And boom, there I go as the breakaway finishes. Yes, he scored. I only mention this because I wretched my back. And I only mention that because I want to complain about getting old and how you can fall and hurt yourself pretty much at any time. Like, I just fell out of my chair and broke my hip. Fantastic.

Anyway, I am all over Amazon's MP3 Daily Deal. I have gotten a bunch of albums I now really like for 2 to 4 dollars. I was going to make a bunch more links - you know like the WHOLE sentence was going to be a series of links, it was going to be CRAZY - but I know you don't really care. If you do, White Rabbits (uh, ok), Police - Synchronicity (comes in handy for Rock Band), Neko Case, Fleet Foxes . . . all things I wouldn't have bought had they not been inexpensive. I guess this is why everyone hearted Napster. Oh, now I get it. At any rate, go type that stuff into a search engine yourself. I need to go to beds.

may all your drinks be alcoholic

My Peoples!

How is everyone? Super? Super!? Super!! I am well and getting ready to start a weekend of binge drinking. Ok, maybe not so much as I used to be able to, but, you know, I'm like the wily veteran wide receiver . . . biding my time, interspersing water with beer and the next thing you know - BOOM! - I'm drunk!

Ok, I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I do know that vanity plates are stupid. Especially stupid are vanity plates that somehow incorporate the model of the car. Like: RIKS VETTE or TEDS AMCEAGLE OR KTS CONVERSIONVAN. I'm all, "Hey, I can read that you drive a Mercury Sable right there on the back of your car - no need to tell me again via license plate." And there all, "Yah, but I had $75 burning a hole in my pocket so WTF?" WTF? is right.

Oh, I have to write a birthday card. I mean, not write one like write one: Dad you are special. Not to say special like as a euphemism for being somehow disabled mentally. But to me you are different than other dads. Maybe better. No, I just have to fill one out. And I better get my game face on and write something funny because, let me tell you, the "nephew" birthday card section leaves a little something to be desired. Apparently, you are supposed to stop giving your nephew bday cards at about 8 (or until they don't like Scooby-Doo). I will have to inform him as he's well past that age.

WTFriday's?

TGIFriday's has gone from the best restaurant ever, to the dumbest, Luke Perry style (8 seconds flat).

First they had 5-dollar lunch. Yes, 5 dollars for any sandwich or salad. Straight up - no catch. And the portions were even full-sized. Times were golden and my buddies and I went there probably 8 days a week.

Oh, those salad days . . . suddenly, we realized that 5 bucks was just a promotional deal and it had ended. I was sad - not going to lie. And our trips to Friday's dwindled to the occasional and I'm sure a server or two had to drop a piece of flair accordingly, in memorium.

Well, we went back last week. I got the pecan-crusted chicken salad. Said piece of chicken was probably less than half a breast. No joke. I had to get lunch after lunch.

So, Friday's, the boycott is on. Now you've upset me and I can't even write a funny post about your lame salad. Are you happy? Are you??

general nonsense

What it is my friends?

What is new in my world? Hmm, not much. I am sitting around waiting to leave work. Why? Well, I have roller hockey tonight and it is at Point B. I am at Point C. Point A is my house. Point D is some other point of interest at which I could go to kill some time. Well, the problem is that the distance between Point A and Point C is prohibitive to then travelling to Point C. I mean, A is just as far from C and it is from B, but in varying and disparate directions. I was supposed to bring a book with me today, which would have allowed me to traipse about Points A-AZ without much concern for locales or displacements or whatnot. BUT, alas, I forgot said book (I'm ready a Clancy for some reason. It's been years, but they're usually entertaining AND I can beat to death any would-be attackers). Sans book, I'm kind of thinking I don't want to go sit around the roller hockey rink watching a bunch of games. I mean, I know I should be scouting the league, learning players' tendencies and the like, but I'm thinking I won't go pro until next year and why put all the big time constraints on before they're necessary. (Point D was a red herring.)

A guy at work wants to learn how to golf because he's "bored." One does not slam car doors on their fingers out of boredom, I should hope, but he would do likewise. I offered that he'd be best served by taking some lessons and then decide if he was still really so bored. Maybe I should have disuaded him further, but maybe he'll love it. I kind of hate golf but find myself playing nonetheless. It is sometimes rewarding.

And there you go. You had to endure this so that I could burn 5 minutes. My apologies.

albino?

I think I saw an albino today . . . in the wild. You know, like not on TV. I didn't stare or anything - jeez. BUT, since I was SO concerned about being polite I couldn't really tell if it was a real albino or not. The hair was definitely spot on, but the pink eyes . . . ? Do you have to have pink eyes to be albino?

Whatever, I am like 80% albino and just as likely as that dude to get burned to death by the hot, hot sun so I feel a strong kinship with him. We're like (lack of) melanin brothers.

turning 33 I think I'm turning 33, I really think so!

Well, ok, I am already 33, but that fits in with the song better, no?

I'm sure you all have missed me and my concise/witty opinions on all matters cultural and politcal. So, I'll fill you in:

Yes.
No.
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
F-ing weirdos.
Someone's scoring like 200 free teddy bears.
Dogs that shoot bees out of their mouths.
The movie Barcelona.
OH NO YOU DIDN'!

I hope that fills you in properly.

Yah, so that's what I've been up to: birthday cookouts; 4th of July cookouts; cookout cookouts; eating leftovers from cookouts; drinking beer leftover from cookouts; climbing up on my sun porch to powerwash it; getting in a fight with a squirrel; changing locks; forgetting to pay my credit card bill and getting that asinine $500 late fee - or whatever is is (like 90% of my statement balance); wondering why asinine doesn't have 2 s's. But I'm back and as mediocre as ever! So you've got that going for you, which is nice.

as seen on tv!

So, theMonica and I were on TV last week. We were accosted by some TV reporter from ACTION 19 NEWS! I'm not big into the local news, but this station is particularly funny because they editorialize all their stories with ad hominem attacks. They're always railing against "punk" criminals and "scumbag" politicians. It sounds silly but the false vitriol is actually pretty amusing.

At any rate, we were (somewhat) unfortunately on our way to watch the Indians piss away yet another game when theMonica spotted the reporter from across the street. She said, "Oh no. I don't want to talk to him." But then, we crossed the street and he asked something and theMonica started talking. The microphone is a giant societal Pavlovian instrument, you see.

What was he asking about? Donte Stallworth and Michael Vick. Why did one guy get 30 days for killing an old dude, while the other got a year for fighting and killing dogs? theMonica made valid and interesting points about the value of all life especially that of humans. I said, "In these tough economic times, one man's life is but 30 days worth of time." No. He was going on about whether or not it was ok for Stallworth to have scored 100 points in his personal game of Death Race 2000 because he didn't necessarily "intend" to kill someone (failing to mention that he was about twice the legal limit boozed up). All I got on TV was my zinger, "He INTENDED to get drunk." ZING! ZINGGGG!

That was about it. 10 seconds of face time for the hot chick and like 2 seconds for me, everyman. I'm not bitter, but maybe that should be his next investigation. Ugly dudes vs. hot chicks - who should get more TV face time? I'm smart. I got good ideas!

the debtor Ryan D

So, somebody that used to live here has been a baaaaaad boy. Apparently he doesn't pay his bills or change his address and/or used our phone number as his own (though that's probably a creative debt-collector guy shroom-induced fantasy).

We've gotten a number of calls concerning some debt he owes. I've talked to this dude and he knows who I am, i.e. know whose name the house is in now. Despite this (and the fact that I told him Ryan doesn't live here anymore) he is un-dissuaded from calling and leaving hilarious messages where he goes, "This call is for Ryan. If you are not Ryan, by law you must stop listening to the message now." He then continues to say how he's calling about some money and to rectify the situation to please call some such number. Of course, I'm guessing here because it is illegal for me to listen to my answering machine. In debt-collector guy world, it is impossible for me to hear the number to call in order to get him to leave me the f*k alone.

Ok, so I'm sure he gets it all the time. The guy owing money says he's not the guy that owes money, but instead a handsome, successful, hilarious guy named Roger. But that makes it no less annoying. Besides, it's public record that we bought this house like 6 months ago and that the number he HAD been calling probably was disconnected and then they found a new number for the last-known address -- WAIT! Let me check the attic! Ok, Ryan is not there either -- So, he doesn't live here, debt-collecting guy. I'm sorry you aren't going to get your money, I really amn't. I wish you many riches and that many people who newly owe you money aren't so elusive and so smart so as to move out of a place and not inform you. Seriously, only Matlock could solve such a mystery!

At any rate, I changed our outgoing message. It goes (and I'm paraphrasing myself paraphrasing a long script I wrote): You have reached the [redacted] and not the debtor Ryan D. If you would like to speak with Ryan, I suggest you find out where he really lives and call him there.

I'm helpful like that.