EASTER EGG count: 9

Examine all punctuation marks closely, and learn you some HTML. Especially how to comment things out or, even better, view code.
Now, written by Snoop.

Monday, April 04, 2005


if i get old i will not give in
and if i do, remind me of this
remind me that once i was free
once i was cool once i was me
and if i sit down and cross my arms
haunt me with truth then shut up
lock me out smash out my brains
if i take the chair or start to talk shit
if i get old remind me of this
the way that we kissed
and that i really meant it
whatever happens if we're still speaking
pick up the phone play me this song
radiohead, "A Reminder"

It wasn't without much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Two nights of silence, then two nights of having it out. She's read the blog and got stung. I haven't been communicating these things to her.

So as one thing ends, another begins. I've always had impulses to write, but they've been growing. I can't give up writing, but I can give up writing on the blog. I'll be putting my words into love letters home. Barring catastrophic disaster, this is db's last post.

Farewells, in Linkworthiness order:
Theresa/Lu: I shall miss the comic venting. If either of you should need a spare sense of humor, mine's hiding in the corner. Have at it.
Dawn: Do your best with the child, and don't forget we're only made stronger by hard trials.
Girl: Your wisdom and advice did not fall on deaf ears. The dog is happier with more exercise and less cage (though still poopin under the table), and the wife is happy again. I leave the free porn link to you.
Abby/Cammie/Lindsey: I'll miss your celebrity antics and unique allusions, but I'll know you've made it in a year when you're the new hostesses on BEST WEEK EVER.
JaG: lekker ding! Is that derogatory? You know me better than anyone else on here, and it beats me how. I didn't think I revealed that much. You're doing well with English and even better with JaB. Doesn't being in love rock? Hope you two end up like peanut butter and honey: inseparable.
Lindsey: Sounds like Amber's going to be pretty special to you -- it's special to all the men out there too. You fuel fantasies. Not that I'd know. Keep it up anyway. I leave the squirting blog link to you.
JeN: I've always felt you were laughing along with instead of at me, though I might be wrong. Good luck landing Angelina Jolie (or a look alike) in a lightly drunken stupor.
Miss Macy/Storm Rider: I saw I just got blogrolled there, and it was a boost to the ego. Here's an idea for you, and good luck to the two of you.
Kayten: Looks like things might be looking up; new car, fun weekend, etc. Hope it's the new norm.

So long, farewell, auf weidersehen goodnight.

PS: I got questions early on about Easter Eggs -- it was a hook, to get people to come back, and also to entertain my lyrical muscles. If you never used "View Source" to see the HTML, you don't know they were always listed right here at the bottom of the page. Here they are:

Easter Eggs:
1) What a difference...TYLER DURDEN anagram
2) Ejaculation...hidden link
3-5) Go ahead, look for them+comments...haikus + iambic pentameter
6) Egad...hidden link
7) I've got to admit ... periods link to song + lyrics
8) Visions of roommates past ... final period to SPR
9) Death by Snoo Snoo ... HTML comment about IC Wiener
Challenge: hide anagrams in YOUR posts! It's harder than you think.

Friday, April 01, 2005

April fools?

Nope, no fools here except me.

Last night, while tucking in daughter and seeing off wifey's sister and niece, I left a blog and the comments on the PC. Wifey sat down, and I expected nothing of it.

Like I said, I'm a fool.

We talked about it for a total of five minutes. I let her know I'm not cheating on her, this is just a way for me to vent regardless of feedback. That I can't vent that way at home. Now I'm getting the silent treatment.

So, I'm going to instruct wifey to read the blog. All of it. If she's going to be upset, I want it to be for the right reasons. If I come back, it will be with wifey's blessing -- which might take a while.

As I posted before, it's been a while since we've had deep conversation. As here, I wished she could know of the blog. I hope now is a chance to rectify these things.

Thursday, March 31, 2005

Food today, vol. 1

Another series I plan on starting, my oddities for lunch. This stems from my frugality. I spent a lot of time being poor and eating poorly.

Now though I'm just trying to keep bills paid. Not to pick on my wife, my love; but she can spend money. I spend, at most, $30 eating lunch MONTHLY. She'll spend it in a week, probably faster. Then take into account that she works in the mall and shops in her own store. Every other night it's another bag brought home.

So, I do what I can to keep expenses down. I'll eat two-week-old food if I must. Today, however, was decent.

One slice of last night's pizza + marshmallows and peanut butter.

Oooh, that doesn't look so good typed out. Kind of like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle's meal. "Fluffernutter Pizza"!

Maybe that explains the gas.


I dropped out of a very prestigious music school in the state of Florida. They don't like improvisation on Bach. Their requirements for music students are stringent -- eat, live, sleep music. I practiced my instruments for 8 hours a day. And in the end, mononucleosis was the anvil that broke the camel's back.

While the story of how I got mono (and almost died from mis-diagnosis of strep throat) is interesting, I'm going to tell that later. Right now, I'm happy, and want to talk about music.

Recently, I've received a very generous gift -- a used piano. I've been playing my heart out, because when I dropped out of music school I quit playing altogether. My frustration with music was thorough back then, and I have since grown reminiscient of my abilities.

Since I've received the gift, I've played at least twice a week. It would be more, if my parental duties didn't restrain. I'm back to Bach, but trying not to screw it up with improvisations.

I probably wouldn't have written this post if it weren't for a particular song and the memories it brought. Isn't it funny how music does that? Smells and music, they take me back.

So today, driving to work, I cried as I sang along to "Cuttooth." Thom Yorke just has a way with mixing words with sounds, but it would be unfair to exclude the rest of Radiohead or their producers.

I remembered my decision to marry my wife. I remembered when I cheated, and when she cheated. I could see myself sitting alone in my roach infested crap flat, feeling like nothing.

I remembered. And I cried. Oh, the memories.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Geography Olympics

I won't pretend to take credit for this find. A few months back, Fark linked to the Geography Olympics. I'm still only consistent on 70-80 percent, but I'm getting better. It's because of those darn African countries and Pacific nations, there are just so many!

Go play, and post here how you do. NO CHEATING!


I didn't care anymore. Still don't. It hurt so much, I was numb.

Nope, not talking about Blogger. But I could be.

No, instead I'm writing about my daughter. She's a very bright, talented girl. She's failing 3rd grade simply from lack of effort, and she doesn't love her parents. Last night, she intentionally tried to hurt my feelings, on no less than four occasions. She's quit trying to do any work whatsoever, having told me, "I'm going to repeat 3rd grade, and it's okay because mom did it too. So all I want to do is play. You're mean, and not my dad."

When I told her that wasn't acceptable, she used her pencil to make a mess on the counter and walls. It was an hour past her bedtime. She cleaned the messes up, and went to bed, having successfully avoided doing homework. No playing, though. And she hasn't seen mean yet.

Last night we took away her radio, and this weekend the room is going to be cleared of toys. She'll be left with books, and that will be her entertainment. For the moment, she can still talk to her neighborhood friends through her window. Not sure how long that will last.

She can earn these things back, but her behavior must improve first. With her birthday coming up in a month or two, I hope it's motivation for a long-term overhaul.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Church on Easter Sunday - lost once, written again

Church - lost once, written again

Were it an act of God that kept me from speaking these words to the Blogosphere, I would fail again. This is my second attempt, typed first on Notepad, as all of my future posts will be.

We went to church on Easter Sunday. We were invited by our neighbor, whose daughter is friends with ours. Saturday night, the girls happened to sleep over at our neighbor's house, and she invited us to her Southern Baptist church.

I grew up Southern Baptist. The first church we attended until I was 7, when we left for reasons I didn't understand (political infighting). That church is still strapped for cash. For three years we bounced around, and when I was 10 we settled into another Southern Baptist church. For eight years we stayed there, and I didn't just attend, I participated. I acted/performed/sang/played musical instruments in services, plays and productions. I left to go to college in another part of the state, and my family left that church over political infighting over money.

Money. It's a big deal to them. I'll come back to that later.

Our daughter and her friend+mom went to Sunday School and Study, and my wife and I got ready early to find the church. It wasn't difficult. The church was a complex of buildings, some large, most new. The parking lot was under expansion construction, but packed.

We met our neighbor outside and were led inside a huge room, a mix between an auditorium and a playhouse. Two floors to observe the service, with a sloped set of pews on each side to join the two. The stage was large. The rear dominated by a five row orchestra pit taking one half of it, and a five row choir loft on the other half. The front of the stage had two televisions (I assume for hymn lyrics), steps and a few chairs behind the podium. Above the stage, two digital projectors displayed upcoming events, and later the hymn lyrics. We sat in the balcony behind two booths, one which ran the sound and lights, the other ran the two projectors. There were hymnals and Bibles, but we didn't use or need them.

The service began with an orchestral/choir piece, then a hymn. The lights went down for another orchestral/choir piece and the lights came up for another hymn. "Peter" gave a spotlighted monologue on how he denied Jesus three times, which rolled into a sextet's piece from a Baptist play, complete with choreographed dancers. The sermon was good, it could even have been excellent if it weren't airplane-meal portioned (~20 minutes), complete with condensed Cliff's Notes on the projections. Then a quick prayer, announcements, and it was over.

I felt in no way spiritually fulfilled. This service felt directed, orchestrated, even produced. Things that are produced fulfill human needs or wants -- entertainment, food, clothes, homes. The service I attended equalled Spiritual Fluff that falls right into the "entertainment" category. I don't go to church to get entertained!

Many churches these days operate like businesses, and like other businesses they have expenses. Investment expenses like making new buildings and parking lots. Operational expenses like paying employees, florists, or city electrical services. To cover these expenses, they need income. They are entertaining to draw in the masses, in hopes that the masses would donate. And why not? We donated, even though we had no needs fulfilled.

In operating like a business, they've begun to act like businesses. They produce, in this case the Spiritual Fluff that I viewed, to make money.

Money. It all comes back to money.

Should churches be about money? Shouldn't they instead focus on their reason for being, Jesus' teachings in the Bible for spiritual fulfillment? I have a feeling if sermons were separated from church services, keeping the real contents away from entertainment, membership loyalty would be higher and political infighting would virtually disappear. And if someone doesn't want to hear about the Word of God, LEAVE THEM ALONE! Don't go door to door, people just get mad at that. Take the money that would have built a new building and build small homes! Feed the hungry, clothe the poor!

This is the kind of church my wife and I are setting out to find. We'll be avoiding the ones with big signs or complexes.

Thanks to Radiohead for "A Reminder," a very soothing song about the shortness of life.


It was such a nice post, too. I typed, edited, added, read and re-read it. Took at least an hour, probably more like 1.5 hours. And it's gone. Blogger lost it.

Probably doesn't help that it was about church. Perhaps it was an act of God. Fuck that, I'm going to re-type that thing in Notepad, and from now on ALL POSTS will be done in Notepad. That's too much time wasted. And if I get fired, hell with it anyway.

What is this I'm feeling? Is it love? Does it hurt? Am I hungry? Who's hungry?

Blogger issues. Again.

I am not upset. I am happy with the FREE service Blogger gives to us. But that doesn't stop me from feeling frustrated. I want to keep track of that frustration. This comment link is going to appear on the front of my homepage, and I wouldn't mind if you used the link yourself on yours. I'll even have it bookmarked in my browser. I will attempt to keep track of all Blogger outages and difficulties, and appreciate any assistance. Thank you.

Monday, March 28, 2005

Best use of word: "mother fucker"

Thanks to Blogger, I had three copies of this post up on my dashboard, and two showing on my blog. After the obligatory WTF?, I deleted two posts on my dashboard. Now, they're all gone. Well, that's irritating.

I'll reproduce. Again.

When used as two words, "mother fucker" can have plenty of uses. When I hear it, however, I recall Ving Rhames (Mr. Wallace) from Pulp Fiction, standing surprised in front of Bruce Willis' car. The purity of the statement is captured in his silent exclamation, "Mother fucker!"

Close second: the wallet. Who can forget Samuel L. Jackson, lounging in a sky blue t-shirt, asking for his "Bad Mother Fucker" wallet? So classic it hurts.

Image ripped from the website where you can buy that wallet, here.

A chocolate lover's favorite days

There are two. They are February 15th, and whatever day happens to follow Easter.

All the stores that were stocking up on chocolate are now trying to regain the shelf space at great discount.

Is the screen shaking for everybody, or is it just me?

Cool link: David Duchovny's blog. Currently covering: Creation of House of D. Thanks to those innovative folks at Blogger for linking it on the Dashboard. While I'm not sure it was his idea (and not a brilliant marketing move by the Lion's Gate ad clan), it's still interesting to get information straight from the horse's mouth. Look for the post with, "smalleer---i like that, but i meant smaller." Makes me wonder -- DD, type with a backspace lately?

now, back to hitting the chocolate. Shouldn't've had so much -- stomach aches already -- but can't help it. Besides, with all the running with the dog, I need to keep caloric intake up.

Yeah, that sounds good.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

I'm such a cheap date

Two Tylenol and one beer and I'm happily buzzing. Damn! I should be able to take three more beers, right? Or at least a screwdriver. Yeah, I'll have a screwdriver.

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