Axe Man

Axe Man came yesterday to take the heads of 10% (25) of my co-workers. All employee meeting was called for 2pm and by 3pm I was watching folks do the unemployment shuffle out the front door.

I don't fear the Axe Man because I have a air-tight plan to take the severance pay (rumor was two weeks, which might as well be zero weeks) and invest it in the lucrative lottery ticket market. They say the Axe Man will be back today to finish his work.

I'll see you in hell Axe Man.

"there was blood everywhere"

Quick! Name three guys you wouldn't want to get punched by!

...

How about an Ex-marine, a boxer and an iron worker? (their hands are like steal dipped in hate)

Okay, now roll them into one guy and see wat happens when you try to take his money


perhaps Big Foot just needs some hugs.

Rich Fucking Fuckers and the Shit they Fuck

Subtitle: life as a disappointment

At some point, likely during the college/post high school years, we all learn that most of those really sweet ideas that like, no one has ever though of before and/or had the moxy to carry out, are in the end, actually very bad ideas. These typically fall into a "do-it yourself," "huge money/time saver" or perhaps "engineering and building of unique and creative... thing" ideas. Examples might include buying something large like a car and splitting it down the middle with another person, buying a cheap, broke down fiat in the hopes of restoring it to awesomeness, maybe driving an absurd distance for a party that's gonna have "a million chicks" or perhaps living in a house with 200 roommates. The point is, after enough let downs, you just start to expect a certain percentage of failure and thus embark on less of these undertakings

I know this is true because I've seen the transition in myself and others, and yes its sad.

The point is, when did everything else turn into such a let down? When did having an apartment close to work turn into outrageous bills and friends were too far away to visit? And when did having a cool car become a slew of mechanical issues, parking lot accidents and police officers tapping on your window? And why the fuck is it so hard to ride my bike to work?

Society's refusal to allow bike riding is the last straw. It requires I pack a change of clothes because the man wants me to dress like a monkey. In fact, the "Green" company i work for doesn't even have a bike rack, nor will it let me leave the bike in the cubical. Of course there's few to no sidewalks out here in Xurbia where the rich people live. And when there are, mindless fucks in luxury SUVs keep trying to run me over because they have no clue what a pedestrian is or how right-of-way works. Then there's the un-accountables... like the old guy that yelled at me as he drove by and while I waiting for the light to change. I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying but i sensed a perception of distaste for bikers. And the fucks that when driving down the road, enjoying their new ICP album, have the presence of mind when they see a commuter to immediately honk there horn and yell something out the window. Do you realize what it takes to react that fast?

I'm serious: people here are pissed when they see someone on a bike

here's somethign to think about

Too Close Onion. Too Close.

Is it ironic that the Superman ride took the legs of a child... considering that the super man himself was chair-bound?

watch yourself out there boys and girls.




Too close Onion. Too close.



this guy made his car to run on vegetable-jiz. The government rewarded his efforts by fining the shit of him. I cried a little.

It could be worse- You could have amnesia so bad that you can't remember more than a few seconds. Later, you'll try to keep a journal to track your life, but it will simply become a long list of the same sentences:

"I have awakened for the first time"
"this is the true awakening"
"I have awakened for the first time"

Apparently this can last for twenty years.

(don't taser gas-covered men)

Sorry- i didn't mean to make this so bleak...

I'm in your noun verbing your noun

First a reflection:



(i love that he edited out the part where Adrian shows up- in order to get back to the monster 8 minute sports-training-montage.)

Today I made time to stop by the Lifetime Fitness Center that is literally 200 yards from the back door of my apartment. See, i do most of my training in the street, running and biking and knifing, but i feel like my upper body is getting flabby and i miss the sensation of lifting heavy things. (insert mom-joke here). While i was looking for a place that would have a weight set and a pull-up bar, turns out Lifetime is packaged as a "lifestyle." The big box mart of gyms, if you will. This is what the parking lot looked like after work:



I approached the desk and naively sought for some membership rates. They presented a page long waiver assuming I would release things like my address, phone number, email address, license number, work number... the best/worst part was the confusion on their high school faces when I asked why they would need this information: It was so obvious- why couldn't I understand?

"Because that's what they ask for."

"What a fool i was."

Mel, in her airy, spring dress gave me a tour of the facility. (Seems "i just want some rates, I'm kind of in a hurry" fell on death ears) I swear to the imac they had 100 treadmills if they had 1. It was hard to explain to Mel that my last gym membership was at a community rec center and i spend most of my time on the street. I'm used to paying $70/year and her proposed $200 membership fee would have been unreasonable even without the $60 monthly fee i was still looking at. Sure the classes are free and yes the locker rooms are supplied with soap, shampoo and towels and of course there were more hot chicks than a Sophist-takes-his-pants-off-convention, but dammit... you all saw that video above and i saw a motherfucker on a stationary bike with a laptop hooked up to him and that shit is just not right.

This was my bounty:



Sure I could survive there, block out the bullshit and go out of my way to lift things that obviously weren't weights like bulimic blonds, benches and the expresso machine in the attached cafe. But i'd still be paying a thousand fucking dollars a year for a gym membership. And then I'd have to kick my own ass.

(maybe next year I'LL have a solstice parade)

i see red

linky-dinky

i have not the energy to comment on these, so I'll break it down quick:

this seems unfair when you measure it against this guy's scant 45 years.

I bet this guy never thought they'd come back. But they did. (and won)

these guys will save us. Or kill us. Either way it will be wireless.

(read these but start from the beginning)

"are ninjas supposed to have super strength?"
"He's also a doctor!"

started out so strong

to understand what the deuce I'm talking about, you should first read (or skim-through-like-in-college) this article about hydrogen. I've actually passed by this story once under some conspiracy title like "DOE stonewalls new hydrogen production process" or something of the like, but then Jon dropped it on me again and I took a more serious look. After so many of these articles I've become a big fat cynic which makes me look for the obvious faults. I spare the details but it's actually a pretty sound idea with just a few question marks. Turns out gallium is quite expensive even for the low quality stuff they call out in the article. And even though aluminum oxide makes a fine aluminum... the energy required...

ah, whatever. I'm too tired for this all this.

Don't be selfish

Go Team Venture

Even though it hurts me to fill the gas tank these days, it makes me happy to know those fools driving monster trucks to work every day are feeling equal pain. And on top of it are angry and confused by the whole situation like a monkey with a banana glued to the back of his head. Yes, I enjoy their confused anger.





Other than that, we have proved once again that Chestocrates and I (as well as previously proven Notorious and I) could never live in the same city, for we would find ourselves dead. Then we watched 28 Weeks Later... and i was disturbed.

I hope we get past this.

Also, this is crazy. Not "i never thought of that before" crazy. But crazy.

(did i really just see that?)

the bubble of absurdity continues to expand outward in every direction.

blue punches red. red too angry to care.

this is a balls move (even though I'm not even sure what "balls move" means.) Either way, the best place for a hybrid is in stop & go, idle-tastic traffic. this dude would agree.

Sadly, I'm torn, since his state has been mandating cars which no matter how you describe them, cannot be termed with "balls moves." I loves me some GTO.

it's all i know

spring weather is all i can think to blame on my unusual number of post dealing with, well, the ladies.

The fiat is pretty dirty.

(and so am i)

Now boarding all buses

Next stop: Bizzar-O world

(the snozberry's taste like snozberry)

In repsonse to my previous post...

i present Arnold's repsonse

Decency is pretty much out the window anyway...

(I feel so very... sneezy)

In case you were wondering

Toyota is NOT fucking around when it comes to hybrids. (so much for the passing fad-theory. should prove well for my sense of accomplishment and sense of wallet)

Likewise, I'd even more prefer to work on something like this highly unlikely and fully toted Fuel cell car. I'll pee a little if it actually drops in '08.

High school: not like that

I will be going to hell later. That's fine.

Action Packed

This is a hot song. I will find it one way or the other.



My trip to the south last week was interesting- Proof again that the human body has an amazing ability to function with out sleep. Moments after turning it on, my uber-expensive camera stopped functioning. This likely had something to do with the oil wrestling party i attended the weekend previous, though I can't be sure (insert vague references to topless wrestlers, broken noses, simulated acts of lesbian affection an good old fashioned BBQ) Life can't be all work.

So i had to fall back on the old camera phone. (The old camera phone stopped functioning as a phone several days later... I blame Key West)

Since it was the company's dime, I stayed in a lot of hotels that looked like this:


Miami seemed to be under massive construction. I swear there dozens of building going up simultaneously.


Most of Key West looked liked this: We spent the day driving the hybrid in circles.


Four rednecks that didn't speak queen's english tried to start a rumble with me and my co-worker by throwing french fried at us in this joint that sold the same things White Castle sells, but with different packaging.


We didn't pummel the local-yocals because we were there to support the Germans. I can't fully explain how much I learned that week, but it was pretty incredible to spend so many hours in a car learning about Germania. At one point, our SUV had 4 engineers, (1 driver, 3 computer jockeys) and I imagined a horrible roll-over accident that would render us all dead. Headlines: 4 nerds dead

One German was disappointed that the fans at a Tigers game weren't nearly as rowdy as his typical hometown soccer crowd. After much discussion, we decided the reason things are so lame in the U.S. is because away fans have to travel so far to support their local regional sports team, that any event will be dominated by the home team's fans. In Germania it's always a ~50/50 mix meaning you're not so much cheering for your team, as you are cheering AGAINST those bastards on the other side. This dialog makes sense in my mind.



We also spent a few nights at the bar with the Germans where i managed to pick up a few sayings. For one, as the saying goes, "while toasting, always your the person you're toasting in the eye or it's seven years bad sex." Seems logical. Another one that came out at the end of the night didn't translate as smoothly... apparently, "just one more beer is like zero more beers." Also, it would seem that free health care leads to a lot of loafers that refuse to get a job. (did i mention that moments after realizing we were 4-geeks in million dollar proto-type car that had more instrumentation than you can shake a stick at, the hood of the broke-ass honda in front of us flew up and snapped off, sailing 40 feet in the air and landing just meters from our faces? that was crazy) Oh, and i also heard a terribly lame penis joke that was only funny because it required the use of metric units. I'll only tell it in person and when drunk.

Finally, it might have something to do with the company these guys worked for, but they all considered Ferrari's to be really expensive Fiats. I took it as a massive compliment.

I apologize for the lack of wit and formatting. I had a lot of material i wanted to get down (more for myself than fr you slackers) as well as plenty of other self-expression literary works I'm trying to form in my mind... and too much material rolling around up there will make me fall down stairs.

What is all movie posters were made in the style of GrindHouse?





Finally, I'm sad to say I'm been damn too busy to send out a DVD full of BSG. My apologies.

Update:

For those who were wondering, I now have a functioning phone

on running

I was disappointed that i didn't get a chance to jog around Key West. The problem of course was, even had I more time and were not exhausted from lack of sleep, I neglected to pack sneakers. (you win again, brain) I don't understand why I run. I do not compete and never did, yet forever there is that burn to go farther and faster. I tried to run yesterday, but after my week long road trip- essentially a full-week diet of refined sugars and empty carbohydrates known as fast food, my body revolted and put down the idea. Last week it was different. Last week it looked something like this:

Mile zero:
My best runs often start out the most painful. Joints and muscles are sore and tight, likely from some combination of last night's drinking and the week's various other work-outs. If I'm feeling overly spry I'll push too hard early and it will turn into a shorter, speed building workout. I'm going to need some mindless power music like AC/DC's "Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution" or Jay Z, "Justify My Thug."

Mile two:
{cough}{cough}{phlem}{spit} This is where i start to shake of the stiffness and find a rhythm; Breathing has slowed. For me distance runs are spun by stacking together as many 10-minute miles as possible, while speed runs are typically half the distance and should combine to approximately 8-minute miles averaged between periods of sprinting and trotting. I have to keep in mind that "Rochester Hills" is NOT just a clever name and 5 - 10% grades are as common as self-conscious teenagers cruising town in Daddy's Escalade and there are almost no truly flat spots. Lora Branigan's "Self Control" with White Rose Movement's "Love is a Number" on deck

Mile Four:
Side step the pavement for the rutty, lumpy, root-filled grass. Ankles that don't roll or sprain will become stronger. I find myself in a series of peaks and valleys, hitting the wall and finding a wind. I feel strong now and want to run faster but need to smooth out the sinusoidal: slower now, faster later. A feeling of invincibility needs a soundtrack: Animotion, "Obsession," Pantera "I'm Broken."

Mile six
I'm not overly familiar with the area I'm running through but the first path turned out to be about 5.5 miles, onto which I built in small increments. I don't know it yet, but the deviation in path I've taken today will put me back at my apartment in about 8.9 miles, which will be a new high this season. {nod to the hot chick on roller blades, direct her back to the early 90's} It turns out that the most painful run is not the one that eclipses all previous, but instead the one where you try to match for the first time, that personal best which has already been achieved. I'm not sure why, but it seems to make sense. This is like the calm before the storm. Covenant, "Like Tears in the Rain."

Mile eight
Here comes the pain. I may be reduced to a trot by the time i get to the top of the hill by the nature reserve. Walking is like surrendering, which means I'll try to slow-trot three miles before being reduced to walking 3 steps. (this does not always work). Over the course I'll have descended a sum of ~1000feet which will have to be ascended again. There may be a lot of grunting involved. Occasionally I'll lift my head to find I'm precariously close to a deer or raccoon or something of the sort. I'll need a psychological boost from the likes of Alan Silvestri's "Delta Force Theme," Joe Eposito's "You're the Best" (Karate Kid S.T.) and

Home stretch
I would be able to see my back door from here, were it not obscured by two big ass hills. {Off with the shirt: 4 parts aid in evaporation/1 part show off the goods} Every time I'll try to sprint this distance but almost always fade away on the second climb. If I've eaten well that week and I've kept up on the training and I took my vitamins and I said my prayers I can dig in and get it done: to the top of the hill, under the trees, over the lawn and across the apartment parking lot to my back door. "Training Montage" Song from the Rocky IV soundtack.

K'S Choice: Not an Addict

Pull of the i-pod and walk in circles to cool down. The silence of the world combined with the ringing in my ears (likely caused by the sudden jump in blood pressure) is deafening. I must eat and then rest, for there is much to be done if I'm to achieve 10 miles next week... though I'm not exactly sure why.

live from Key West

I've been awake for 22 hours



updates eventually

I will bite your torso

This is good I thought. But a lot of people are still pissed. And their's some mercury involved. (Hurray for the gray area of life) Perhaps the others think politician's time could be better spent.

Cash-Money, though?

In unrelated news, though the movie itself wasn't all that, I HIGHLY recommend the soundtrack to the Aqua Teen Hunger Force Movie.


Artist: Mastodon Lyrics
Song: Cut You Up With A Linoleum Knife Lyrics
Genre: Death Metal

Don't talk, watch!
Don't talk, watch!
You came here. Watch it.
Don't like it? Walk out.
We still have all your ****ing money.

Do not nudge, kick or jiggle the seat in front of you.
I'm sitting there!
I am everywhere at once
and I will cut you up.

If you make out here,
I will cut your lips and tongue
from your head
with a linoleum knife.

Do not explain the plot.
If you don't understand, then you should not be here.
Your money is our money
and we will spend it on drugs.

Do not crinkle your food wrappers loudly.
Be considerate to others,
or I will bite your torso
and give you a disease.

Did you bring your baby?
Babies don't watch this.
Take the seed outside. Leave it in the streets.
Run over it after the show.

If I see you videotaping this movie,
Satan will rain down your throat with hot acid
and dissolve your testicles
and turn your guts into snakes.

This is copyrighted movie for Time Warner.
If I find that you've sold it on eBay,
I will break into your house
and tear your wife in half.

At least it's warm now

Apparently, not since we had to bail their sorry asses out of Double-you Double-you Two, have we as a people been more disappointed with the performance of the British Armed Forces.

Also, it's become obvious that since it's unethical to test execution drugs (you know... with science) they're not exactly working (you know... all the time)

Left hand: allow me to introduce you to Right hand.

Now who wants to be my friend?

I find that duck's opinions of me is very much based on whether or not i have bread

I have added the Cespool to my link bar. It features articles such as "Physcological Color Profile" and "Everybody loves a Whore."

Enjoy

You can't stop the signal

It's Fiat driving season and I'm a Fiat-Driving man.

beating the drum

It seems in Virginia there was a whole classroom of students that laid down and waited patiently while some dude walked up and down the desk-rows executing mutherfuckers. It says so here. This makes me feel ways about things.

In un-related news, (thanks to Jon's willingness to show me the way), I've been preaching the power and unstoppable coolness of Google's free online utilities. Google pedometer may have actually been developed by someone else, but it builds off the ultra-awesome Google maps. I love it. (Works for bike routes also. Of course, these aren't my real routes because then you could memorize and predict my patterns, thus making a clean and inexplicable assassination easier.)

by discovering and sharing this particular Google technology, i am convinced Lois Lane is not simply trying to steal my medication. Good for her.

Can i have 4 beers?

Seuth-sayers have been predicting peak oil dates since the 50's, so here we are again.

Think of it this way: Everything will be fine so long as such scientists are wrong every time.


{insert working class hero by john lennon}


Will Ferrell - The Landlord - Funny As Hell - Click Here for more great videos and pictures!

as i watch Adult Swim

I think there's a new tattoo in my future this summer.

The internet is full of ideas. I'm trying to decide between tipping my hand or revealing the inner me

Also, the Fiat is back on the road, logging over 30 trouble-free (though "witch's-titty-cold") miles today.

Finally, I think there might be a connection between this story about mate selection and this one about diseases that make your naughty bits fall off.

(look who's back)

"Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt"

Greatest novelist: DOA

(i haven't felt like this since Douglas Adams died a week after shaking my hand)

Great auto-man knows the score.

(Detroit is on the brink of imploding... Surviving the riotous 60's and gang-ridden 80's. Much like our a for mentioned author friend mused, suicide might have been better than rotting away in our own decay.)

CHEERS!

circle jerk

Let's get this straight. Katie Couric fired the guy who writes her blog, for stealing content from the Wall St. Journal.

I'll repeat that.

Katie has people who produce her "blog," likely born of an attempt to humanize and "make hip with the kids" a women who is essentially a face-puppet but with creepier eyes. Those people steal that data from other sources. Then they get fired.

If you can't find 3 things wrong with this, kill yourself.

For the fellas...

(and the cool chicks, too)

bendy

Those who have lived with me will likely noticed that i strive to minimize the "junk" i have, and I'm always looking for ways to minimize my possessions (other than cars and tools). For some reason, this crazy, folding fork has survived several cleanings of the counter top, leaving it again and again the sole "counter-top" survivor.



I remember it so clearly- It came with a package of instant Tai- not the add water box, but the vacuum sealed, already boiled noodles. The only way to fit a utensil in the small, tradition carry-out-shaped box was to make it a folding utensil, complete with locking mechanism to ensure it would stay folded or opened.



I've had this thing for the better part of 6 months and it even got packaged and moved over to the new apartment. I can't let it go because even though I'm still debating whether I *really* need a bed or not, dammit, i'll never know when I need to conceal a fork in my deepest and most secret places.



I think this could easily be described as low-level OCD, which taken with my other habits, paint a telling picture.



Now I will begin the work of figuring out how to incorporate this engineering marvel with my patented disappearing cigarette/match/napkin trick.

eye opening

As expected, GrindHouse is the greatest movie ever made, and though i can't speak for all of you, chances are if you associated with me in your life, you'll agree.

(Though this guy wasn't exactly in the movie, you do see his gnarled face quite a bit. Seems he's quite a man in real life)

But perhaps the weekend's most amazing event was meeting a particular newly pregnant couple in Ann Arbor that filled me in on how fate smacked them up: Apparently, even though she was on the patch (messed up her dose rotation) and he was using a condom (broke during the act) and they had access to Plan B, or "the morning after pill," (which was administered with the prescribed dosage and timetable) but she still managed to find herself with child. (you can now insert a reference to this being the will of your particular deity).

And I never had sex again.

"Sex here!"

I'll take 7...

100% Death Proof

H point out that Charlton Heston performs his own miracles. (It's people!)

I'm trying to finish the furnishing of my new place and it's proving expensive and complicated. I'm tired of sleeping on an air mattress, but quality replacements run well over a grand. I also need a vacuum. And some knives.


It seems the internet has provided us with a whole new way to exact revenge on unsuspecting fools.

life in the cube farm.

Still April 1st

I will know drop mad engineering humor. (this is what we talk about during the infrequent down times at work... in fact, i'd say 97% of all jokes around there involve an air-graph or ven-diagram)

April Celebration of Fools

Q. How do you confuse a blonde?
A. Paint yourself green and throw forks at her

Q. How do you know when a Frenchman has been near your house?
A. You don't, really, unless you were there to see him or if one of your neighbors saw him. I wouldn't worry about it, really.

Q. What's worse then finding a worm in your apple?
A. The Holocaust.

Q. Why did the blonde get fired from the M&M factory?
A. Repeated absences and stealing.

Q. What do you get when you cross a chicken with a centipede?
A. A media circus about the debate over the morals and ethics of genetic engineering.

A priest, a rabbi, and a buddhist monk walk into a bar, sit at the end and start having some drinks. Two hours later, they come out with a better understanding of each other and a mutual respect, the beginnings of a friendship that lasts a lifetime.

A pirate walks into a bar with a ship's wheel stuck to his crotch.
The bartender says, "Hey, you got a wheel stuck to your crotch."
The pirate replies, "Yarr, me ship wrecked in a terrible storm and my testicles swelled with an infection while I was knocked unconscious against the wheel. Can you please call a doctor?"

Q. What's the difference between a post box and a vagina?
A. A post box is a public container for the deposit of outgoing mail, and a vagina is the passage leading from the opening of the vulva to the cervix of the uterus in female mammals.

A horse walks into a bar, and the barman says "Why the long face?". The horse replies:
"I'm deeply troubled by the anthropomorphic aspects of my existance and the extent to which I am now protected by law."

Q. Why was six afraid of seven?
A. It wasn't. Numbers are not sentient and thus incapable of feeling fear.

I be like droppin knowledge

too many "how to" manuals in the world. Figure it out for yourself: It's better that way

However, the breadth of topic is still funny. But seriously, you need figure out how to date a stripper on your own... or learn from your dad/brother/priest


(the derivative of Batman should be Bruce Wayne or the integral of Bruce Wayne = Batman... Fucking amateurs)

Why aren't I sleeping?

Because I can't stop watching episodes of BattleStar Galactica. It's Too Damn Good.

Tyrol: You know, we need to figure out whose side we're on.
Tigh: Which side are we on. We're on the side of the demons, Chief. We're evil men in the gardens of paradise, sent by the forces of death to spread devastation and destruction wherever we go. I'm surprised you didn't know that.

Fucking Brilliant.

Briefly

Okay. China, We FUCKING get it already, you're better than the west. Let it go. (I could do a lot of things if i had 6 foot arms)

The real question is, if a strange woman appears and masturbates on your couch, would you throw it (them) away?

I suppose you could apply the theory of unexplained bacon to identify this as a ninja trap... but if I have to live a life forever questioning the origins of mystery bacon and masturbating strangers, i don't want to live that life.

I wasn't hungry anyway

Also,

It can always be worse.

i can't help but post this

(what else can't I help?)

classic good time

I'm sure everything is fine

In unrelated news we're all still fucked.

meh

Could this lead to an Elise test drive? Perhaps not. I shall stick to my work (one carb down, one to go)

Fax party

new place

(why would there be a shirt hanging from the ceiling lamp?)

too close to home

It seems there's an entire theory in the alternative energy underground that the company i work for (i tend to never mention here the name of my current employer) is essentially responsible for undermining the development of hybrid, plug in hybrid and even pure electric vehicles in the U.S.

This new data is highly detrimental to the paradigm.

It all revolves around legal action taken by my company and it's parents to defend battery chemistry technology, allegedly copied by Panasonic and Toyota. Alliances with oil companies make the plot go 'round, supplying a ready-made antagonist and conspiracy. I am so very... confused and It will take much time to absorb and react to this new information.

I want to believe in the goodness. It's what makes the 10 hours days go by so quickly and what makes you want to spend the first warm day of the year thermally profiling a new heat management system for the '09 model because there is so much science to be done and so few people.

What's most important now is informing the overlords that the master plan has been revealed... No one is falling for the ruse of a small group of people driving hybrids and riding their bikes to work because it's the most rewarding job you can find in a place like Detroit. Then again, if i was the evil management and wanted to convince everyone i wasn't choking-out battery technology, I'd hire a bunch of idealistic fools too.

More science is needed.

Best

good


better

edit

edit: in reference to a previous post about threesomes...

I just realized the first line of my threesome tirade refers to "bullet scared strippers" as in strippers that are afraid of bullets, presumably coming from a gun. It was supposed to read "bullet scarred strippers" as in strippers sporting bullet scars which your finger-tips can identify quite readily, even when drunk.

This is only important not only because it adds a level of gritty realness and visualization, but also because it's a true story based on actual events.

(Support your local pole workers union)

part II

I once knew a man who refused to celebrate his alcoholism. Later in life, that very same man would request an “energy-generation-themed” sequel to my highly un-acclaimed synopsis on the state of alternative and non alternative transportation fuels; a valid request if every there was one. Especially considering the unofficial conclusion to my previous entry (the EV or PHEV) places the brunt of transportation energy needs on the national electric grid. Once again, I promise no fact checking, because that time is better spent in the VIP room, where I vowed to myself I would avoid for at least 3… 2 weeks.

--que “Workout Theme” from Rocky--

This one’s for Timbo. (Did anyone else know that in the originally planned version of the latest Rocky movie, Rocky was supposed to visit an HIV/Death bed stricken Ivan Drago in Russia? That would have made the movie 36% better)

Non renewables

Oil

Rundown: Seldom used to generate electricity, you may find a few smaller Diesel generators (think less than 100kW) used during rare high demand times, or maybe powering some Arctic outpost or some shit like that. As far as I know, it basically doesn’t exist in the modern electric utility.

Outlook: Save it for your gas-powered dildos and hedge trimmers: no one’s gonna use black gold to make megawatts.

Coal

Rundown: To domestic power generation, coal is like Dale Ernhart, The Super Bowl and that time in high school when that hot chick totally went down on you (man, you never again scored action like that... everything was so much better back then), all rolled into one. Coal is so cheap that the comparisons to your mother/sister/girlfriend practically write themselves. Likewise in both cases, it’s dirty as hell and many laws have been passed in an attempt (though often half-hearted) to outlaw its (and their) use. Depending on whose lies you believe, coal is said to account for something like 60% of our power generation and is so plentiful, it practically falls out of the earth. Or, you know, onto some minors. (Why wouldn’t they let those guys enjoy a cold beer after a long day in the mines?) Local laws, though often preventing the construction of new coal plants or requiring “clean coal” facilities, almost always allow for the continued operation of existing facilities, lest they drive the utilities out of business by mandating total replacement of existing infrastructure. The idea of clean coal is mysterious and as far as I’m concerned, bogus. It can be reformed into things like “coal gas” and such, but as we’ve already learned, when we turn a dirty fuel into a clean fuel, the equation of life dictates the “dirt” part still show up on the right side of the equation. That means carbon bi-products, the best disposal solution suggested thus far being “pump it into the ground?” Right...

Outlook: Everything having to do with clean coal is smoke and mirrors. Old facilities continue to pump mercury, sulfur, COX, solid pollutants and a slew of other junk into the air, while newer plants pump a portion of it into a box which is sold to third world countries and made into Ramon Noodles. Unfortunately, the US alone has enough to power itself for about 300 years.

Natural Gas

Rundown: Natural gas is the golden child of new utility capacity. This is because instead of building massive, large capacity coal or nuclear plants, they’re opting to add in smaller, cheaper increments, only fulfilling the needs of the immediate future. Nature gas is perfect for this because it’s relatively clean and unlike the others, efficient in small scales. (The large capital investment associated with carbon sequestering or nuclear containment require an equally large return on investment, making it uneconomical to build small nuclear/coal plants). Unfortunately, this gas which was once vented into the atmosphere for lack of a better purpose is now looked upon most favorably and without even arguing about how much of the stuff is left, we can’t deny that the supplying governments are unreliable at best.

Outlook: Tough to call and even harder to add wit to. Far cleaner than coal and other fossil fuels, it’s hard to come by and getting harder. Additionally, use of gas for heating is increasing demand big time. Also, this could be the Soviet Republic’s big ticket back into the major leagues.

Nuclear

Rundown: Nuclear energy is like an enigma wrapped up in misunderstanding and tucked into an "I-can't-quite-put-my-finger-on-it" shaped box. On one hand you have a basically limitless supply of energy and assuming nothing goes wrong, no waste that can't easily be dealt with. (if everyone was really honest with themselves, they'd realize that nuclear waste 40 miles below the surface ain't gonna hurt nobody). Of course, if something DOES go wrong, none of the above matters because your skin is boiling and your eyes are bleeding out. It falls somewhere between the guilty fossil fuels and the petunia smelling renewables.

Outlook: Depends who you vote for

Renewables

Wind

Rundown: The wind energy bubble came and went without many people noticing. Most cheap, viable, open windy farm land in the Midwest have been spoken for, though I’m not convinced the majority of it will never see the windmill it was purchased for. I think Europeans recognized electricity from wind as an elegant and simple solution long before the states did. Many people will say dumb things like “what if the wind stops blowing?” Those people have never been to the top of a tall building, off shore of a New England State or spent any time with Notorious’ sister/mother/girlfriend (I hear she blows AND sucks)

Outlook: Companies like GE and others are always building bigger windmills, the most recent of which can produce 5 megawatts when located offshore. This is enough to power about 5000 homes. I expect to see a lot more windmills, and in all honestly, they make me just a little randy.

Solar

Rundown: Believe it or not, the sun is predictable and action packed if you go to the right place. In fact, it's a pretty well known fact that something like 500 sq miles of solar panels located in the southwest would power the entire US. (look it up). And that calculation assumes your basic silicon cell of ~8% efficiency, where technologies like a dual axis-tracking, parabolic trough thermal system can convert solar thermal energy on the efficiency range of 40%. And since it's a thermal facility, instead of direct to electric, that thermal energy can be stored and distributed through out the 24 hour day.

Outlook: Facilities like the one described above have been operating in the southwest for 20 years, and though still operational... nothing similar has been built in the U.S. this millennium. What can I do?

The Others

Geo thermal

Rundown/Outlook: If you’re living in Iceland and a home-owner, pat yourself on the back friend, because Geo-Thermal Energy and nationalized health care are about the only things you got going for you in life.

Tidal

Rundown/Outlook: There’s a lot of water moving around out there and even if it moves just a little and very slowly, the ungodly mass makes it a viable energy source. However, I don’t have to throw myself head first into a man-on-man-on-man-on-rhino-on man orgy to know I’m not going to feel at home in that setting. Likewise, I don’t need direct experience with the sea to know those angry, salty, waters will make short work of any sort of power generating facility placed in its indignant depths. The point is, Joules Vern, time to go back to the Nautilus and play make-believe/touch yourself. This scenario seems unlikely.

Energy Storage

We all know god dammed well that as soon as I talk about renewable (and therefore perceived as unreliable) sources of energy, someone is going to pipe up about the inherent instability this system induces on the obviously fragile national electric grid. Allow me to piss on your face before you even open your mouth by exploring the wonderful world of large-scale, high power energy storage systems. (Back off man, I’m a scientist). There’s plenty of methods. Here’s two good ones.

Battery

Rundown: I’m sure you all realize that 95% of the technology for chemical-based batteries was sorted out about a hundred years ago. That said, even though I hate the idea of being a traditionalist, my experience says the longest lasting methods are normally the soundest. For your typical large battery, the best advances of late have come in the area of energy density and minimizing environmental impact. The downfall continues to be the pesky high price ingredients.

Outlook: Did I mention that I work for a battery company and after two engineering jobs in the battery field would officially consider myself a battery expert? Betting against batteries is like betting against Rocky: you don’t do it lest you wake up with broken arms. Still, batteries aren't the best way to power a building when the sun goes down- They are, however, a great way to suck up some solar power to get to work and back in your PHEV.

Note: If you’ve heard of super capacitors or something of the like, they’re a lot like batteries but more fantastical. People have been promising them to be “just around the time corner” for the last 30 years. If you get me really drunk we can talk about fly wheel-based energy storage devices… People already use these things! (Google it bitches)

Water

Rundown/Outlook: Power demand is like a sin wave added to a constant value greater than one. If you got laid in high school and don't know what that means, it basically says demand goes up and down with a pretty constant pulse. The problem is your generating capacity needs to meet the highest peak, making for unnecessary power when the demand dips. Big pumped water storage tanks are a way to use energy when demand is low (pump water into a resevoir) and recover it when demand is high (let the water flow out a la hydro-station). It's simple and elegant here under a cover of clouds we see the Ludington pumped water storage facility that's been in effect since the 70's.

More proof that like Rocky, sequels are never as good as the original. That is all. There is no point and no conclusion because nothing has been finished. It's hard to fight the good fight and I am tired. Next week I'll tell you about this simple theory: The further you study a topic, the more jaded you become. If only science can save us...

disc

We all knew that the bee is made in this state, but who would claim to know that the sport itself (or various sports) had such deep roots in Michigan?

life kicks you when you're down

My threesome entry has received little acclaim. It appears people only talk about this stuff when they're drunk.



In the mean time, kidney stones + pneumonia =/ crazy delicious. I've never spent a night in the hospital, let alone done the doubled-over, writhing-strut of pain into the emergency room. It breaks down like this:

1) All data, though inconclusive, shows that I am still invincible, though highly susceptible to prolonged stabbing sensations in the kidney. It also helps to add a respiratory-based viral infection to take me down.

2) The pain-medicine drip makes all the problems go away.

3) Vicadin makes it hard to concentrate on the written word; 11 episodes of "Heros" proves it is the greatest show on TV, as it is based on superhero/comic book stuff with a villain that increases his powers by eating the brains of other people with powers.


I am so very sleepy now

Three's Company

I’ve compiled my list of all things threesomes. Of course you wonder, “How can the Sophist speak about threesomes, when he has never known one? Is he some kind of wizard?”

To this of course I would argue that all knowledge is intrinsically known and I must simply recollect what was already known, bitches.

Besides, it’s like a wise man once told me: “What can I do?”

Every work-a-day-warrior/bar-philosopher knows threesomes are becoming as common as apple pie and bullet scared strippers. I could prove this shift in modern Americana by searching a lot of online articles for magazines like Glamor and Cosmo and other such mind imploding materials with titles like “threesomes are the new black?” and “Should you share your guy?” but that would likely cause me long term damage. Instead I’ll illustrate the point by way of the “Three’s Company Enigma.”

See, when Three's Company first came out, everyone was begging the question, could it be possible that Jack might one day nail both Janet and Chrissy? Saner minds of the time, of course, reminded those fringe-of-society lunatics that Janet and Chrissy were in fact ladies and the chances of such a bumbling and clearly low-income Jack putting the love dart to those two foxes was like asking if reverse electron flow theory will every displace conventional current flow theory. (the answer is "no")

Were John Q. Network to break a show like that today there would be no zaney “what if” appeal, simply because the 18-25 crew would readily assume that the three of them had already tagged up sometime back in college and the issue was all worked out. Of course, Janet’s boyfriend at the time would have been allowed to video tape the whole thing, Chrissy would later turn out to be a full blown lesbian and jack was too high to recall the night’s events. (He passed out 10 minutes in and the ladies, championed by an enthusiastic yet oddly aggressive Chrissy had to continue without him,) But the underlying assumption would be obvious and people would turn off their sets in bitter fury knowing that Chrissy and Janet were WAY too old to make a mistake like that again.

If that’s not proof enough, let it be known that wikipedia features illustrated examples under its “threesome” listing. (think about it)



threesomes: it's science

With that established, eveone wants to know how to make it happen and after living though a lot of these threesome (the cool kind... and the un-cool kind) conversations, this is what I’ve gathered: There’s basically two ways honest guys like ourselves are going to seal the deal with two chicks; Either to find a girlfriend, acquaintance or some other form of “known” female that wants to experiment with you and another lady, or two, pull off the random, one-time, one-night hook up with two stunning (-ish, but we’ll get to that in a moment) ladies who know they’ll never have to listen to our theories on things like sci-fi, cars or electron theory the next morning and yet for some reason STILL feel a burning need to put our 21st digit between them. This of course assumes the people I associate with aren’t millionaires, willing to pay for two hookers or want to walk into a Detroit strip club with a pocket full of powder, the last of which seems to be the most effective way to pull this thing off. Just maybe not the easiest. (You’re not afraid of Cadillac-driving pimps named Elron, right?)

The chance of a random shag with two chicks is akin to a low probability analogy that I’m too tired to write (though history and drunken life-stories seem to prove it does happen). For that reason, most ambitious fellows gear their game around the “convince my current female of interest that we should share the beauty of our dirty mattress-dance.” The fact that i think most people forget are the concessions one will make when it comes to finding that lucky third contestant. For reasons which will remain unanswered, i will call this the "Greece-Syndrome," which can be a deadly, dangerous road when you're already dealing with numbers on the un-happy side of the 1 to 10 scale. But you can leave that part out when retelling the story at the bar.

So how come we’re not all elbows deep in flesh and holes? Could be Midwest states aren’t as hip as the coasts? Or is it because of the terrible and seemingly insurmountable threesome paradox that everyone (important (as in, ‘female’)) wants to be the mysterious and unknown third person. This is evident by the fact that everyone seems to know a person or two that actually “went through with” or “scammed” a threesome (whether one “goes through with” or happens to “scam” the threesome depends naturally on whether or not your underwear has a fly in the front). These tainted and adventurous sages always seem to revert to the “I should have gotten two people I didn’t know.” (unless, you know, they're strippers that do it for blow)

I’m not really sure what to add at this point. There’s probably a lot to be said for etiquette, safety and watching your wallet, but if you find yourself dealing with these issues, you have already reached the peak of the mountain and are simply making the climb down. I have decided that is my greatest contribution to the betterment of man and will now deal with the inevitable few who will ask the most obvious of questions. I'll begin:

Some will query “where did you get the free time to become such a masterful logitician?
To which I will answer “the bar (with your mom)”

And some will stand up and proclaim “shouldn’t two naïve and well-to-look-at lasses please assemble on the Sophist’s residence so this body of knowledge can be completed?” You enthusiastic few would be right.

Finally, some will ask, “but doesn’t H read this blog and will she not punch you in the eye with great fury?” You my fellows would be most right of all.

(all euphemisms provided by these people)

eidt: I forgot to mention the "Seduce two India-Exchange grad students who are cousins" to my list of ways these things go down. It's proven effective, but only if you're prepared to find yourself on the unfriendly side of an Indian Hit-squad. A lot was learned that summer. Maybe a little... Too much.


game face

I'm back bitches

After a cold and icy move-in, followed by a brief stint of flu-like symptoms, my possessions are nar'y out of the box. Regardless, I've got the wireless cancer waves of the internet pulsing through my apartment and I've had a lot of time to create. Stay tuned for my analysis of threesomes. In the mean time, enjoy this:

this article, though painful and obvious... still somehow seems worth it.

I've not seen this movie, know nothing about it and can't even comprehend what it could be about. But kind of want to see it now. And yet don't. (not the bees!)

Lastly, this product advertised in this seemingly lesbian Erotic film is quite ninja in nature... yet still so very disturbing.

before they could kill him they had to create him

The big move north is upon me. It could be a while before i can get back to my regular schedule of spotty and half-hearted content. These decently narrated pictures should hold over all of you.

(note: all cell phone pics. wee technology)


a while back i went to a DJ battle in a dark, DARK underground basement club in the D where an acquaintance did battle with another Detroit DJ. Each man brought $500 and a crate of records. Roommate and I were told to be there "in case the guy didn't pay" (here's another quote: "if something happens, don't cut the guy- just rough him up") Considering this was smack in the middle of the strangest weekend of my life, i was pretty un-phased by this request. Even though i reckon myself a lover more than fighter there was no way i was going to miss seeing the outcome. (Acquaintance won, all debts were paid... i guess. I was pretty drunk by then and had spent some time in a goth bar in between... Who was that guy?)



When the car was dead I got an 07 charger w/1500 miles as a rental. It had the small engine but looked sharp.



I am SO ready for Fiat driving season.

not an addict

been reading this HILARIOUS list.

Dick sharpener, Framazama, Finger warmer,Hairy Checkbook, Wizard's Sleeve, Panty Hamster, and Mrs. Sphincter's Next Door Neighbor all featured.

A
Abyss, The
Afro clam
Almeja
Axe wound

B
Bacon strip
Badly wrapped kebab
Bajingo
Bald man in a boat
BAP (Bad Ass Pussy)
Bologna curtains
Baloney sandwich
Bearded clam
Bearded taco
Beaver
Beaver Cleaver
Beefgina
Beef curtain
Beef garage
Beef jacket
Bermuda triangle
Biff
Biffen
Birdy
Birth cannon
Bitchcake
Bizzle
Black cat with its throat cut
Black hole Of Calcunta
Blood tap
Blurt
Bone hone
Bone yard
Boogina
Bottomless pit
Box
Box lunch at the Y
Boy in the boat
Breakfast
Breakfast of champions
Buhgina
Bulldog's lip
Bunny
Bush

C
Cake
Camel hoof
Camel toe
Camp coochie
Catcher's mitt
Catfish
Cathedral
Cathouse
Cauliflower
Cave
Cha-cha
Chia pet
Chocha
Choochi snorcher
Chopped ham
Chuff
Chumino
Clam
Clamato fountain
Clamburger
Clodge
Clown's pocket
Cock cave
Cock cozy
Cock garage
Cock holster
Cock milk
Cock pit
Cock pocket
Cock sheath
Cock socket
Cock tub
Cockwash
Cod canal
Concha
Conill
Cooch
Coochie
Cookie
Coon
Coonie
Coont
Cootch
Cooter
Cooz(e)
Cradle of filth
Creamery, The
Crotch cobbler
Crotch mackerel
Crotch taco
Cum bucket
Cum canal
Cum catcher
Cum dumpster
Cum target
Cunny
Cunt
Cunti

D
Dank diner
Delta of Venus
Dent
Dick dent
Dick depot
Dick dock
Dick drive
Dick holster
Dick sharpener
Dick shed
Dick's crib
Dicky Dino
Dirty cumpie
Ditch
Divit
DNA dumpster
DNA slurpee machine
Dripping slit
Droog
Dyke snack

E
Easy bake oven
Everlasting Gobstuffer

F
Fadge
Fandango
Fertile delta, The
Festering wound
Filthy hatchet wound
Finger warmer
Fish factory
Fish fanny
Fish hole
Fish pie
Fish taco
Flaming lips
Flange
Flesh curtains
Flesh flute case
Flesh tuxedo
Flesh wallet
Flesh wound
Flounder, The
Flower
Fluff
Fluffy sausage wallet
Fluttering love wallet
Foo foo
Foof
Foofy bird
Fortune nookie
Foster home of Peter the Orphan
Foufoune
Four-lipped man eater
Framazama
French poodle
Front-butt
Frothing gash
Fuck hole
Fuffle
Fun bun
Fun tunnel
Fur pie
Furback turtle
Furburger
Furby
Furry horse collar
Furry front bottom
Fuzz box
Fuzzy cup
Fuzzy lap flounder
Fuzzy puddle
Fuzzy taco

G
Gange
Gap
Gaper
Gaping hole
Garage of love
Gash
Gator grip
Gina
Ginch
Giner
Giney
Gingerbread
Gleaming mound of Venus
Glory hole
Glory road
Gnash
God's master plan
Golden gully
Goldmine
Goo pot
Gooey man trap
Gouge
Grand Canyon
Gravy boat
Grilled cheese
Growler
Gutted hampster
Gutted rabbit
Gynie

H
Haddock pasty
Hair pie
Hairy beaver
Hairy bike rack
Hairy checkbook
Hairy cherry
Hairy clam
Hairy cream pie
Hairy harmonica
Hairy hatchet wound
Hairy headache
Hairy Manilow
Hairy Mary
Hairy scar
Hairy taco
Hamburger
Ham sandwich
Hatchet wound
Heart-shaped box
Her
Hey nonny nonny
Hidey hole
Hina
Hinge
Hole
Home plate
Honeyhole
Honeypot
Hoo-ha
Hoo-hoo
Hooch
Hoon
Hootch
Hootchie
Hootchie pop
Horizontal fishcake
Hot Box
Hot pocket
Hot quivering love-purse
Hotdog bun
Hummer hole

I
Illnana
In hole, The

J
Jack in the box
Jack Nastyface
Jellyroll
Jizz receptacle
Juice box

K
Kini
Kit-Kat
Kitty
Knob gobbler
Knots landing
Koo koo
Kookooyumyumpoon
Kooter
Kunt

L
Labbe
Landing strip
Lap flounder
Lips that never speak
Lobster claw
Lotus flower
Love muscle
Love muffin
Love pudding
Love tunnel
Lower lips

M
Man's ruin
Map of Tasmania (Tasi)
Meal ticket
Meat curtains
Meat grinder
Meat muffin
Meat napkin
Meat slipper
Meat wallet
Meatloaf
Mejillon
Miffy
Minge
Minnie's pearl
Miss Pussy
Missile silo
Moan pie
Momma's silk purse
Mommy button
Money box
Money maker
Monkey
Mooch
Moose knuckle, The
Moose's lip
Mother Theresa
Motherload
Mound
Mrs. Sphincter's next door neighbor
Mucker
Muckhole
Mud flaps
Muff
Muff monster
Muffhole
Muffin
Muffler
Muffy
Munch box
Mushy mushy
Mutton chops
Mutton flaps

N
Na-na
Na-ner na-ner pudding
Nappy canoe
Nappy dugout
Nethermeats
Ninja slipper
Nipper
Nookie
Nooner

O
Oak tree planter
Old bacon strip
Old Mother Hubbard
Old toothless
Oonie
Orchid boat
Organ grinder
Otter's pocket
Oval office
Oyster taco

P
Panocha
Panty hamster
Passion flower
Patona
Peach
Peach fish
Pearl pit
Pecan Pattie
Pecker-snot repository
Pee bug
Peeper
Pelt
Penis holster
Penis penitentiary
Penis piranha
Penis pocket
PenisStation, The
Peter pleaser
Peter's punching bag
Phat rabbit
Pink brownie cake
Pink canoe
Pink lipped custard sucker
Pink lips
Pink palace
Pink panda
Pink petaled posie
Pink pie
Pink pit of pleasure
Pink stink
Pink taco
Pinkly stinkly
Pish
Piss curtains
Piss flaps
Plewie
Po-po
Pocketbook
Poke hole
Pookie
Poon
Poonani
Poontang
Poontang pie
Pootnanny
Pork danglies
Poosazi
Pooter
Pootie poo
Pootietang
Pooty poo
Postage stamp (you lick it, you stick it, you send it on its way)
Pot holder
Prayer muffin
Prick pit
Promised Land, The
Pu-jar
Puddin pie
Pudi
Pumpkin blossom
Puna
Punani
Puni
Pushin' cushion
Pussy
Putang
Puter
Puty pu

Q
Quiff
Quim
Quinnie
Quivering mound of love pudding

R
Raw oyster
Receptacle, The
Red haired lass
Red snapper
Roast beef curtain
Roast beef pita
Rocket pocket
Rod roaster
Rooster fish
Rosebud
Round mound of repound
Rug
Rusty axe wound

S
Sacapuntas
Sagging bacon cones
Salami sandwich
Salmon scented semen sucker
Sausage wallet
Scrunt
Seafood taco
Sex hole
Shnush
Shooting range
Shrimp boat
Shrimp pie
Shutters of love
Silk igloo, The
Slice
Skunk guts
Slickety squid
Slime slit
Slimey slot
Slippery sheath
Slit
Slobbering bulldog
Sloppy joe
Sloppy oyster
Slot A
Slug's belly
Smackey
Smelly jelly hole
Smoo
Snack box
Snack pack
Snake charmer
Snapper
Snatch
Snizzle
Snotty lips
Snutch
Soft taco
South mouth
Southern smile, The
Spam castanet
Sperm bank
Sperm belcher
Sperm harbor
Split-faced hair shark
Split knish
Splittail
Spock-socket
Spunk locker
Spunk pit
Squashed hedgehog
Squirt bucket
Squishy
Stanky
Stench trench
Sticky bun
Stink hole
Stinkinoonie
Stinky krinky
Stinky pink
Stuffed stocking
Sugar walls
Sweaty burrito
Sweet spot
Sword swallower

T
Taffy puller
Tang
Tasty little morsel
Tinkleflower
Treasure chest
Tri-fold floppy
Trout basket
Tulip
Tuna melt
Tuna taco
Tuna town
Tuna tunnel
Tuna 'n' whiskers
Tunnel
Tunnel of love
Turkey beard
Turkey curtains
Tutu
Twat
Twat waffle
Twisted taco
Two fingered fish mitten
Two-lips

U
Underwear oyster
Upside down taco

V
V
Vadge
Vagittyfidgit
Vagooter
Vaheena
Veeg
Vertical bacon slice
Vertical grimace
Vertical smile
Vertical taco
Velvet box
Velvet glove
Venus fly trap
Venus jive trap
Vice of love, The

W
Warm slurpee
Wazza
Welly-boot top
Welly-top
Weenie wringer
Wet wrinkle
Whisker biscuit
Whooha
Wide open spaces
Wide papaya smile
Willy washer
Winkin' pink brownie cake
Wizard's sleeve
Wookie
Wookie hole
Woolen bivalve
Worm hole
Wound that never heals, The
Wrinkle
Wuzza

X
X-Box

Y
Ya-ya
Yeast cake
Yo-yo smuggler
Yoni
Yum yum

Z
Zone, The

(stolen directly from here. I'll be honest- I didn't have the staying power to read the whole list)

"Do you even have a job anymore?"

I think it is time to reveal to the world the truth about my work. The local news (local news, remember, is like the dumb kid at the slow school) recently did a piece on the company i work for, something to the effect of high tech, alternative-energy companies in Michigan, a popular theme here because of dire efforts to replace lost automotive jobs of recent.

Anyway, I never did see what was broadcast, but friends and family say i was quite stunning in my safety glasses and operating that large and pricey piece of nondescript equipment. Funny thing is, when the CEO says "hey, we need some footage- do something that looks like science..." you do it.



-this is so close to the truth it's creepy-


A typical day at work is split between the shop floor, a meeting room and my desk; let's say 40%, 40% and 20%, respectively. The shop floor would include the test area, featuring large, nondescript high-power boxes powered by a litany of computers, as well as thermal chambers that are basically car-seized boxes that operate as an oven and freezer, depending on whether you want to cook or freeze your battery sample. And by sample, of course, i mean people. (you gotta tell 'em! It's people...) Also on the shop floor is the proto-type build area where i've been known to wield an assortment of tools typical engineers have only seen on television shows hosted by men with beards and new england accents. Finally, this would include the place where I would conduct various a-typical attempts to collect data on matters such as pack noise, thermal management system flow rates or maybe power losses across high voltage connections. In conclusion, this is where the science (magic) happens.





Spending time in the meetings rooms, like dealing with a stripper's bad breath, is just part of everyday life. Most of these meetings are held because a) management wants to discuss something or b) the customer is mad about something. I should point out here that moral at this company is higher than I've ever experienced before, both personally and throughout the whole company. Of the few dozen people i work with directly in a typical day, there's only two that people seem to dislike. One is Danger Steve and the other is Dr. Lunch and Dr. Lunch isn't really a bad guy- just kind of annoying, and every since Danger Steve (who started the same day I did) came around, no one seems to talk about Dr. Lunch as much.

Finally, there's my desk/cubical. It's larger- half the size of my bedroom, but located RIGHT by the main door, so there's a cold draft and everyone who walks in can see what I'm doing or not doing. I typically work about 50 hours a week and at least one day is normally an 11 or 12 hour stint, but i don't mind because i enjoy the work. When i do have down time, I venture to the desks of some of the people who have been there from the beginning. My company was founded just a few years ago with about 10 people from an R&D firm. The first few years were mostly proof of concept work and one-off design. My mentor-guy was one of THE guys working on the GM EV-1 back in the day and everyone who's been there for a couple years has a picture of them self standing next to some variety of electric car, bus or other. (The scary part is i recognize most of those vehicles.) I will now reveal the full extent of my geekness by divulging the true giddiness i feel when hearing about developing the EV-1 and whatnot. Man that was a sweet ride. No i never saw the movie. No i don't watch The Office.

it all makes so much sense now

"just because it's the easy way, doesn't mean it's the cowboy way"

from indexed - this site is quite fun for the quantitative-minded

meant to put this up last time:

muay thai

I am the car slayer

This has been a crazy week- Starting with last weekend, full details of which aren't even worth getting into, since I can fill a few pages just retelling my car mis-adventures. (At least part of that craziness involved a Detroit Goth Club that made Marylin Manson videos look like "Fluffy McSoftyness' Sunshine Hay Ride Through Smiley-way.")

This story begins Saturday while driving down a side street, on my way to the coffee shop (my most benign destination of the weekend), when some yahoo backed hap-haphazardly out of his parking spot and quite skillfully into my front fender. (see below)

His shitty Ford Torus was, of course, undamaged. "I can't believe how bad that sounded" are not the words to introduce yourself when I'm trying to force my door open, extraditing myself from a mangled car. Lesson of the night: Allen Park cops are still Dicks.

This event set in motion an avalanche of logistical nightmares including phone calls, high dollar amount checks and a HUGE assortment of "can i get a ride?" to and from various places to opick up or drop off extra vehicles. It started with my parent's cherry red Plymouth Sundance, which was to be my mode of transportation for the interim. Car number 2 made it to and from work once, when attempting to start it, a huge cloud of white, sweet smelling smoke poured from the back end... mmmm... smells like head gasket. I pushed my luck, driving it to the first appointment of the day, but decided to cut home early based on the amount of antifreeze that was disappearing into the atmosphere. Lesson learned: a blown head gasket is mostly drivable, assuming you can start it with all that fluid in the cylinder... just don't turn it off.

This afternoon i used a 1/2 personal day trying to track down a rental car for the rest of the week- who knew that unreserved rentals are so damn hard to come by? I'm talking a dozen places called, at least, with no luck. I finally tracked down a bright blue dodge charger with a tiny engine and styling that make me feel like a pimp.

In the mean time, through another crazy, hard to explain round of randomness, i found a guy who lives just down the road from me who can weld up my Fiat intake manifold, eliminating the exhaust crossover and coolant paths. (We'll call the dead Fiat car number 3) Lesson learned: Talk to the old guys, they know a guy.

So here's to car number 4: Lucky blue charger.

In unrelated news, this guy is creepy. Not sos much because he poses as a 12 yr old kid and hangs out at skate parks (he could have seen that on a movie) but more because he lives in a trailer with 3 old men/convicted pedophiles and has sex with them while scheming ways to dupe kids into doing the same.

Also, this is what i think of the super bowl. (thanks Skelert)

rubbin's racin'

Harry Hogge: Cole, you're wandering all over the track!
Cole Trickle: Yeah, well this son of a bitch just slammed into me.
Harry Hogge: No, no, he didn't slam you, he didn't bump you, he didn't nudge you... he *rubbed* you. And rubbin, son, is racin'.