The Madness

So there I was…thinking of a better title.  Having none, I proceeded on to the actual post which began “So there I was…”

Breaking out of that infinite loop,  let me discuss email and it’s proof of Darwinian evolution.  See, I’ve been getting some wierd emails lately.  Subject lines don’t really make sense. Hey, I do it all the time, right? So no big deal. Then I remember the Shakespeare/Monkey analogy of evolution/ probability (it’s just that good, so it’s been used in fields of related study).   You should open that previous link in a new window/tab (ahhh, the day of the slashies). The best is Stanley, 1995.

Now that we’re all caught up on the ideas upon which I am referencing, let me go on to examples.  I don’t think they’re up to par with famously dead people yet, but they’re working on it.  In fact, I’ve even coined a term for it: Darwinian Spam.  What to do when two good things appear? That’s right- combine them.  Here’s what our culture has been lacking. We got a good start with the peanut butter and jelly in one jar thing, and probably the ketchup and color green thing but we can’t stop there. So there’s evolution as made popular by Darwin (and several court cases ). And then there’s email spam of the ilk of jalapeno and radish sandwiches at 2:30 in the morning. Exiting.

So combine them into Darwinian spam! Yeah!!!! Here’s what’s really been showing up in my inbox:

Author:            Subj:

Garland Stanford  or hygiene documentation
Jerry Keyes     Away marquette scarecrow
Jewel Hinson     on dumbbell bugaboo
Adam Waters     Reuben in carleton
Arthur     Low mort’gage rate
Patsy Mansfield     Before pneumatic and reman
Stevie Connolly     may epistolatory gao
Burl Mcdowell     Bianca not virgin
Anastasia Sorensen     Doctors Use This Too qd4QsS
Elvis Lutz     Looked ballard arrack
Leola Quintero     and cartographer burglar
Boris Oneill     Carlton it’s episcopate
Vilma Tidwell     Could scarce a patina

See?! This is undeniable proof that somewhere out there, monkeys with names like Burl McDowell and Boris Oneill are getting progressively closer to the ultimate goal- sonnets.

And speaking of monkeys and email: You’ve got Monkey-mail!

I guess change can be good… I loath change…it’s just that my pockets get full of the stuff, and it just gets in the way.  Someone like me could get nickel and dimed to death.  And that sounded way better in my head.

This is starting out pretty rough, but I just want to point out some new features of this awesome blog experience. There is, of course, the random quotes on the sidebar.  I will be adding to this as the years go by.  And a brand spankin’ new addition is the Stephen Colbert video feed.

It’s just basically links to the newest clips from his comedy central show. if i were to recommend a few new ones, try this one and that one. Anyways, hope this is fun for someone.  Will chat later.

Basically, I’m sick of waiting for my blogging neighbor to post another excellent post like his last one .

I’ve already made comments on the ridiculousness of people thinking I’m some extraordinary being.  Two weekends ago I was telling a friend about my criticisms of my current job.  At the end, he said “It must be really bad because I’ve never you complain about anything before.”

Seriously? That’s just crazy.  It’s a socially mature thing to be able to control emotion, esp. in a business setting.  And positive thinking is good for the heart. But maybe I should complain more.  Maybe if I whine about all the little stupid things that always happen because we interact with each other as stupid human beings, then I’ll be more approachable.  I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about people viewing me as so high above them. They won’t talk to me about what’s really going on; I guess they feel I’d look down on them or not understand them. So I get this bubble gum summary of their life.  Maybe if I complained more people would see I don’t live a bubble gum life and start telling me what’s really going on.

Heck, that’s what I do on here all the time anyways: the whine-o-matic.

Sorry, dear readership, for my neglect of this online diary.  Let’s do a summary of the last week or so to catch you up.  First off: Easter.  I started the day off right by dressing in all black and strapping a semi automatic pistol into my tactical thigh rig.  After an hour or two of that I changed into my street clothes and rode my motorcycle for a bit.  Hung out with my  aunt and uncle for a little while and then rode home.  Got into my car and grabbed some Taco Bell for Easter dinner, then headed over to the laundromat for a few hours of quality laundry time.

Classy, I know.  This week has proved to be fairly busy.  Started work on replacing the clutch on a friend’s VW bus.  That crazy German engineering has been throwing me off.  But it’s been coming along pretty well.  We’ll probably get it back into driving condition tomorrow.

I won a trip to Florida.   Yup, the auto dealers in town keep sending out “scratch and win” brochures.  Last time I won a dvd player. Didn’t want it so I gave it to a friend. The card I mean. I’d have to actually go in there and deal with all the used-salesman types.  And pay shipping. So this other dealer sent out cash prize possibilities.  And I was hoping for first prize, which is $500 in cold hard cash. Or dirty, pliable currency I guess is more accurate. No good- got the lousy Grand Prize instead. Some two-night, three-day trip to FL.  I’m not planning any trips that way, so I gave the prize to a friend who happened to drop by a birthday gift right at that time.  It turns out she’s headed to FL next week anyways.  So it was a good swap: b-day gift for a trip to FL plus fees and taxes.

On Monday I found out I offically got my new job; Wednesday morning I told my boss at my current job I’m pretty much quitting but staying on their payroll; Wednesday afternoon I found out I got the part time job at my college installing a barcode scanning system in the auto/diesel tool room. So I’ve got a few summer jobs now with plenty o’ variety plus I’ll be taking summer school classes in addition to the online classes I just started today. It may sound like a lot, but it’s nothing compared to most of the females I know.

And my birthday was Tuesday. So I got a few cards and presents (thanks to all who gave). I didn’t really tell anyone my b-day was coming up, because I wanted to make a vindictive guilt-ridden scene. Not really; it’s just not a big deal to me.  So I’m not going to make it a big deal. I just don’t do well with pomp and ceremony, esp. when focused on me. But my relatives had me over for dinner tonight. So that was nice.

Anyways, there’s a boring summary of my boring life.  Well, it’s pretty fun for me- but likely not interesting to the average reader.  Like we all know that often one’s own farts don’t stink- just to others.  When they are stinky to fart owner that means something is really wrong internally.  Same with boring lives- ain’t boring to me yet; if it was I’d be in serious trouble.

Yeah…farts….yeah…………………

Three interesting events in my life. One: my truck ran away. Two: Insects crawl out of my shower drain. Three: Boss knows I’m leaving for a new job before I even think about telling him.  ‘Tis all I haveth.

I can’t really trust myself to be comprehensible at this hour, but it’s a risk I must take.  There’s a few thoughts I want to get down before they are overwhelmed by the many others.  Actually, I guess I need to clear these out of my head so all the other important thoughts can take their turn.

Now that I’ve got you hook, line and sinker I’d like to start off with my strong dislike for books with titles ending with “… for dummies” or “…for idoits” or “…the simpleton in your life.”  I am not debating the quality of the content of said books.  I am not suggesting these have become popular by pure accident (or because MTV made it cool).  No, I just don’t like the name.  I find it offensive to have to call myself a unintelligent moron just to get a clearer understanding of a particular subject.  I recieved one of these books for Christmas, and I’ve gone through it a few times.  The people who write these must be quite keen in order to make such difficult information so accessible.  So I just take offense at the name. As a side note, I’ve made jokes before about titles such as “Hacking for Dummies” and “Sex for Dummies” and they have (if I remember correctly) both been published.  wow.

So what I’m getting around to is this: the only time I’d jump at any titles from this publishing line is if there was, say: “Inexhaustible Grace for Dummies” or “100% Pure Love for Dummies” or “The Trinity for Dummies.” That’s all I got on that.  I guess I’d be ok with those title because I am truly a dummy on those topics.  And always will be. I mean, I may gain some basic insights, but these are topics my little head can’t wrap itself around.  So I’m cool with the ‘dummy’ label.

Now, on to something totally different: Women- Get Over Yourselves Part II.

Didn’t really get any hate mail about the first installment, so I must either be doing really ok or really bad.  One thing women (once again focusing on those near my age group) need to get over is their bodies.  Granted, there’s a lot of media showing women how they should look.  But that same pressure has been there for men and is growing with the rise of metrosexuality .  Guys just look silly naked.  All hairy and their sensitive plumbing bits pendulating in the wind. I have a pretty good laugh at myself whenever I get out of the shower. Sometimes I do this dance where I use my body as drum and start jamming out nude.  It’s hilarious and nobody gets to appreciate it but me.  But that’s just me.

The great thing about that is I can look at myself, see there’s room for improvement, but look with full confidence.   I’m totally cool with what I am and how I look stark, blinding white naked. This is not the case in many o’ females lives. And I feel this state of acceptance of the present while acknowledging necessity of progressive positive change is important in all human existence.   So, ladies, start using your body as a drum machine in the shower.  Flex in the mirror and then laugh at yourself for doing so.  Draw on yourself with marker or henna or something.   Might even include some friends.  Just laugh at yourself and maintain a healthy self-image. It’s a good thing.

So here’s the lament of my life as of late. There have been several instances as of late that, as I considered them whilst amidst the moment or afterwards, made me feel… gay.

See I ‘m not saying I am, am considering or would consider becoming homosexual. But sometimes I just feel like I’m demasculated to the point I might as well be gay, or at least a enuch. At least that’s a funny word. For example, I was chatting with my friend’s girlfriend at their apartment while he was working. First off, I’m still wary he actually does care despite his voicing of the negative. Second of all, I find myself sitting on a couch at one end, facing her at the other end with both of us tucked into our own blankets. And talked forever. Guys don’t often: a) employ eye contact, esp. on touchier issues; b) use pastel blankets while talking; c) talk forever; d) with someone’s girl. Some of these are moot issues, but it’s a new realm of experience for me and kinda creepy. I have no sexual intention, which I almost wish I did so I wouldn’t be thinking how gay I feel.
And again tonight I was at my metals1 art class which I mistakenly believed involved large-scale blacksmith work. No- oh no- this is a jewelry class involving people looking to make jewelry. So mostly women. First off all, I’m not that confidant with my visual expression of art. I mean, I can give a pretty good self-expression using any stringed instrument. Heck, give me a baseball bat and a keg (good initiative, Slipknot) and I could probably express myself articulately. This visual art stuff though is not my area of confidence. Secondly it’s jewelry for crying out loud. We’re not even allowed to make sharp pointy objects if we wanted. So tonght we did a evaluation where everyone but the artist discusses said artist’s piece. So there’s all this talking about how the piece feels, use of negative space and all this artsy-fartsy stuff. And all I’m thinking is: I’m in a jewelry class surrounded by forties-something women discussing feeling-based art analysis. Combined with the whole confidence thing, I felt gay. I guess my definition of gay is a foray into feelings unknown.

Along these same lines: I saw kid at school after our spring break ended this week. I joked with him about how his shaved head and goatee combo was a good prison look. And then, because I tried and failed to stop myself, joked with him by saying “yeah, i’d do you.” had to have been there i guess. it really was funny.

anyways, i’m pretty sure i haven’t said anything i really wanted to. just remember: homosexuals are gay. and here’s a good cleavage joke. and here’s a story of a chick biker who rides her motorcycle in the dead zone around Chernobyl, replete w/ pics. just found it tonight and is pretty interesting.

random!