September 2nd, 2004


The Amazing Race 5 Update!!

Amazing Race 5 Update!!

Follow That Cab…

It's all about...  the race now.  It's down to five teams and they're jockeying for position. Of course, if you're more concerned with your hair than a million bucks... you can please go set yourself on fire... mmmk. Tonight we had the Rosie’s baking bread, Nicole getting groped by Indian locals, the Twins hoe'ing it up en route to Wild Wadi, and Blue Lagoon and his “model slash watchtower lady” pouring retched, steaming vats of vanity over themselves on national television.

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Thursday... September 2.

It's abso-fucking-lutely beautiful today... sunny like the sky is all busy exploding in brilliant light-up-your-world goodness... with a cool breeze and air that touches your face reminding you that outside rocks the house!!

So I downloaded this song and have ... so far... infected exactly twenty coworkers... yes indeed... you can walk through the office and hear quiet, guilty whistling noises and the odd "his name was Rico".

Personally... I've always thought the Life in Havana... have a banana... was kinda porno...

~ blue ftls
~ cream p-z sorta cargo pants... way comfy, but not very forgiving on "fat days"
~ dk blue b.u.m. equip shirt and a blue notes black sweater with a red stripe.
~ start my day with another session in the punk ass freezing cold muther fk'er of a mini server room (hence the sweater)
~ move a solaris server from one end of the planet to the other... it's now in the cube beside me... enough of that cold ass shit. :)!
~ finish the kernel mods and shit for the Oracle from Hell host.
~ fix broken links on the team web... have I mentioned before that I hate front page? please die frontpage.
~ it's thursday... some joker gets herself kicked out of BB tonight... weee... harmless, elective human suffering ... what fun!
~ every five minutes I find my self thinking about those kids in the russian school... I think about their parents... the Jobs they all suddenly don't give a shit about... the military forces (alpha team did the Russian Theatre a while ago... yeah, the one with 120+ dead hostages...) and I wish for sanity to find the world.
~ that my wondrously fortunate friend ... pixiecup to have no end of fun at Burning Man (you lucky squeaky duck). Please take a billion pictures!!
~ for a wee bit of improvement to find it's way into bitchcakes_xo's day...
~ for a bit of good health to give sweet catherine a break... and watch out for any sudden urges to eat cheese...
~ and for sweet and snack-like amyaustin... to get what she so clearly desires...

Say a few words of hope in your heart for those kids in Russia.

Now... from that to the notions of "ours and theirs" and "decisive action".

When bad dude pulls the pin and introduces explosive decompression at 30,000 feet atomizing 200 passengers... is he doing anything more horrific than when a dumb bomb (so named because I simply refuse to accept that idea that some pencil decided on "smart bomb" as an apt name) finishes it's 1 second count down after nosing through solid concrete expelling it's mega joules of kinetic energy then chemically completes it's purpose vapourizing 200 civilians in a hospital or an office building that just happens to be next door to a theoretically justified military target?
What makes our dead and burning so much more ghastly than their dead and burning?
Why is a suicide bomber on a bus full of kids in the middle of Paris a bigger evil than an anti personnel mine that ends everything for a troop of 15 year old kids pressed into service as an option to a beating death in the villages of south central asia?

When an incursion into enemy territory becomes an occupation... for years and years...
you have to accept that an entire generation will grow up being socialized by that occupation.
Bottom line: we are breeding a generation of Iraqi's that truly hate the US for a brand new set of reasons.
Just look at Chechnya. That's a 10 year old conflict... kids that were 12 when it started...
are 22 today and armed to the teeth.

I say end this shit decisive and end it now before it's too late.

Ok... enough of that stuff... I wanna go back outside and walk for a bit... it's just too freaking beautiful out there to miss it all here in cube land.

Have a lovely day muchachos y muchachas... :D

ps. I got a note from a lovely mexican girl many of you know and care about...
I'm happy to say that her world is a good one with a healthy and happy family.
  • Current Music
    Barry Manilow - Copacabana (Original Disco Ver

(no subject)

ok... we're done.
close the lap top...
click off the cam and the light...
grab yer bag... hmmm
ok, now grab your book bag...
head to the car and go home.
:::::::::::::::[ end of day me ]::::::::::::
~ having a very geeky jordi laforge moment. :)

I think tonight is a "lone star cafe" moment... tex mex dinner instead of cooking.

~ dum di dum... I'm in such a good mood.
I mean, work kicked my ass today... freaking oracle wont start...
SGA wont init... so I'm adding ram and messing with kernel crap...
and I'm in a great mood anyways... :)

ok... gotta go.

Hey... did anyone watch the latin grammies... was Shakira on?
shut up... she's amazatron... well... the voice...
ok... fine... nice bum too... but that's beside the point... sorta.

ps. um... no really... does any one anywhere still have a mullet?
I mean... gah!
  • Current Music
    Shakira - Objection (Tango)


Time to play a little game of...

  Which one is the lie?

1. grade nine… standing beside my desk… the head of the geography department had me in something of a nasty headlock. I watch as a broken string of pooka-shells from my necklace scatter across the floor.  An atlas… my atlas… was still jutting from the garbage can.  My arm came up… my arm came down… my elbow came back with significant force, (considering my rather diminutive form) and made a remarkably accurate connection with Mr. Smithson’s testicles.  As he collapsed between the desks and all the eyes of the other students and the teacher fell upon him, I thought “Shit… this is going to be really bad.”

2. grade ten... two ambulance drivers holding me – rather bodily - to a table in a theater within the emergency ward… plastic surgeon dude holding a large rubber mallet... three 10% cocaine gauze things rammed up each nostril... a hand over my mouth forcing me to breath through the gauze... and he's fucking hitting me in the face with the mallet. My mom was waiting in the car.

3. grade eleven… “so we have a deal?... I come to class... I don’t actually get you mad about anything… and it’s an A this year and next… so long as I don’t try to take grade 13* Art?” To this Mrs. Davies replies… “Deal!” and we shake on it. I had just handed her 10 packages of Kodak ectachrome slides… 360 (flash free… so tripods etc.), 35 mm images taken of the artwork in the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam while I was on a trip there to visit my brother.
* Q-year… grade 13  (a “university qualifying year” in our school system at the time).

4. grade 12… “du behover… inter tola svenska… fer a festoa… svenska qualateer” or something remarkably close to that… practicing and practicing and practicing… It was from an Elna Sewing Machine magazine advertisement and was supposed to mean “you don’t have to speak Swedish to understand Swedish quality.” The Swedish exchange students had arrived yesterday and I was dead set on meeting Helaina… and intended to deliver this line with as much grace as I could manage.  Flash forward three days… it’s the pre-march-break school dance. Helaina is sitting with me down in the boiler room in the school basement. The Master Key, long ago stolen from a janitor and handed to me by a graduating student friend last year had come in handy.  The red glow of the exit signs and various “indicator lights” on strange equipment was the only light… but it was enough to reveal the outlines of delicate Swedish skin and only the strength of dramatic effort kept me from actually making gurgling noises… “du behover… inter tola…”.

Make your guess ... I'll post some info on this stuff and the answer... tomorrow.