Drink Rum

Why, oh why do people overdose on perfume and cologne?

For the love of gawd, do you not understand that you're killing my nose?

I just walked out of an elevator that had a lady in it that had to have dipped herself in cheapo Wal-Mart perfume. It burned my eyes. If I were attacked by a thug I would have thrown her at him because it would be like pepper spray, mace, and a tazer all in one. Uh, I can still taste her bitter air. Guh.

Now don't get me wrong... I love the subtle smells of pretty ladies. The key word there is subtle. You shouldn't ever be able to smell someone from beyond arm's length. If you can smell them from a different zip code... that's a bio hazard.

Tomorrow I leave for Seattle and I doubt that I'll be writing any more posts until after I get back next week. I'm sure that the long weekend will give me more than enough material for some posts. In the meantime, dear readers, enjoy your break from my blather.

Posted by Monty at 2:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'd just like to say... for the record... that I hate bicycle riders.

Why do they think that they and their two wheeled go carts rule the world... riding around in circles and ringing their little bells. brrrrng brrrrng Ha ha I'm not using gasoline!

I'm going out to buy a double barrelled shotgun and I'm going to saw it off and go Mad Max on these fools.

That is all.

Posted by Monty at 5:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I've got so many projects that I need to finish. I have so many great ideas and start so many projects... but don't seem to ever get any of them finished.

On my to do list:

Paint walls and ceiling in home theatre.
Secure wires (speaker, coax, component) in home theatre.
Secure wires (low voltage) on deck stairs.
Run low voltage lighting on deck near grill.
Figure what to do with the solar lanterns on the deck.
Add 200lbs of mulch to bush area in front of house (where new low-voltage lanterns are).
Secure low voltage wiring across front side walk.
Stain deck.
Stain fence.
Build Blue's poker table.
Hang picture over TV in family room.
Clean out office. (may never happen)

Wow... that list made me ill. So much to do.

Sorry, this post was lame. I'm very, very tired at the moment and don't have the creative juices to come up with anything even remotely funny.

I'll be more better tomorrow. Also... three more days until Seattle. w00t!

Posted by Monty at 12:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's been a while since I'd seen or heard the name, "Cornball Shooter". It was a drink I invented well over a decade ago while at Kevin's parents beach house. In preparing for my upcoming trip to Seattle, Ashley has requested that there be Cornball Shooters consumed and I think that's dandy.

There exists in this world at least one copy (a large copy) of Matt, Ashley, and I in a hot tub full of bubble bath after consuming more than our fair share of said shooters. If I recall, the picture was taking right before we started pouring drinks on each other. Ah the good old days of stupid fun. I miss overflowing hot tubs with bubble bath. If I recall correctly... pouring a couple of ounces (half the bottle) of bubble bath into the jacuzzi jets seemed like a good idea at the time. I think even as it was overflowing it seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm fuzzy on trying to remember who took that photo... probably Cat or Kermit. After the picture was taken, I recall Matt saying something, "Here a$$hole!" and pouring his beer on me. And then Ashley saying something to the effect of "Don't do that to Monty!" and pouring her wine on him. And then I followed with, "Hey no one pour wine on Matt!" and poured my Zima (yeah, shut up) on her.

I then think we all said in unison, "Somebody bring us more drinks!"

That was a very, very good time.

And I'm all a flutter about seeing Matt and Ashley again.

Hey Matt, if you find a hotel with a jacuzzi that we can crash, I'll bring the bubble bath and of course the Cornball shooters.

This is going to be fun.

Posted by Monty at 1:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It was really hard to come up with a title for this posting. I'd commented several times during Saturday's festivities that "such and such" a line would have made a great blog title. Sadly, I've long since forgotten each one of them. So I just made this one up... because it probably sums up the evening/weekend's events.

Saturday was a rather fun gathering. Initially, the plans for Saturday had consisted of a very small group of people eating steaks and then going off to a strip club somewhere. [Insert Some Male Grunting Here]

Those plans changed, though, end we ended up (for the better) with a larger group of people eating steaks and then playing cards until the wee small hours of Sunday. I also believe there was some alcohol consumption.

The day started off a bit oddly. I wasn't fully prepared and hadn't set up everything I'd needed to for the poker game. I'd decided to play downstairs in the theatre... mainly because I didn't feel like lugging a poker table up the stairs. While I was setting up, I put on a movie to play in the background (Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii) and ended up fiddling with guitars instead of cleaning/setting up like I was supposed to. Then I decided to restring my bass and finally just plopped down on the couch to watch the rest of the movie. So there I sat, feet up on the poker table watching a movie. Even after the first guests arrived, I still stayed down there. I felt the need to get in character or something before heading upstairs. After the conclusion of "One of These Days" I decided I was ready to roll.

Kevin and J where the first to arrive. The fact that both of these guys made it was a huge bonus. Kevin was feeling under the weather earlier in the week and was questionable as to his attendance. J was up from the Virginia Beach area and I'd not seen him in quite some time so it was a real treat. We chatted a bit and then I put them in front of the PS3 so I could start the cooking. I needed to melt some butter and heat up the grill. I got the butter about halfway melted when the grill started losing gas pressure. After fiddling with the knobs a bit, it finally sputtered out. I was out of propane. It was actually good timing that the gas ran out then and not halfway into the preparation of the steaks. So 20 minutes before dinner time, I was disconnecting the tank and preparing to run down the street to get more gas.

BLUE arrived as I was leaving. He got a brief "hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" In the process of trying to get out the front door, we had a dog jail break. Max and Eva bolted and never looked back. Luckily they didn't go too far before finding something that smelled so yummy that they had to stop in their tracks. Phil and I then took them back to the house bodily.

The grocery store was packed and it took much longer than it should have to exchange my tank. The girl at the customer service counter also seemed to want to flirt more than get me a new tank. I didn't want to be rude, but I was in a hurry. "There's no time for hellos, good-bye! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"

But as late as I was, I did stop at the liquor store. I'd forgotten to go out and get a bottle of Frangelico and decided that since I was in the neighborhood I might as well pick up a nice bottle that was sure to be wearing a "Drink Me" tag on it later.

I arrived back home in time for the first round of shots. Phil had arrived prior to me and was serving up Patron (tequila for the uninitiated) as I walked in the door. I popped my shot and headed outside to get the grill groovy. Sometime later, Brian and Charlie arrived.

The grilled meats for the evening were awesome filet mignons, center-cut top sirloins, ahi tuna, and sesame, peanut chicken. No one actually ate the chicken but I had some the next night for dinner and they were awesome.

Dinner went very well with the exception of my over-cooking BLUE's steak (sorry!). My first foray with the ahi went very well too. I made up an on-the-fly basting for it that was basically lemon juice, soy sauce, garlic, and ginger. I made one for myself yesterday and it was the bomb-diggity. I can't post the recipe because... well... I didn't measure anything. Just mix the above together in assorted proportions until it smells like yummy and then pour it over the tuna on the grill while it sears.

Pam arrived late, but she brought Krispy Kreme donuts... so she was forgiven. We ended up goofing around out on the deck as the sun set. Topics of conversation included, but were not limited to: Las Vegas, New Orleans, strip clubs, fire extinguishers through doors, dead hookers, crotch grabs, getting tossed out of strip clubs, falling asleep in strip clubs, and dead hookers (redux). I think that there was a universal consensus that a Las Vegas trip is in our very not-too-distant future. May gawd have mercy on Sin City... because if ever there were a crew that could break that town... it was assembled on saturday.

The venue then changed to the poker room. It was time for the main event. Sorta. I was to be designated dealer for most of the evening. With the large number of (intoxicated) players it helped to keep things moving. I'd filled my flask with Grand Marnier so BLUE could have his "security blanket" and we were good to get started. We ended up filling that flask many, many times as the night went on.

Things went pretty normally for the most part. Table chatter was high, but it was all good and everyone was having fun. Eventually a hot hand was played and Charlie ended up knocking BLUE out of the game. BLUE wasn't heart broken, but he still garned sympathy from Pam who simply stated, "Charlie, you're an a$$hole."

That would be Pam's battle cry as the night went on. Everytime someone took down a large amount of chips, Pam would call that person an a$$hole. Most of the time it was Charlie.

Kevin was playing very well... especially considering that he was too drunk to even know what cards were on the table. It wasn't long before Kevin wandered off to get another drink and then later we found him unconcious on a couch. Charlie was in pain with an angry migrane and soon thereafter he retired from play to try to get some sleep. Max (my dog) at one point thought it would be funny to try to bite at Charlie to wake him up. Charlie didn't find it as funny as everyone else did.

Fast-forward a bit.

I'd stopped being the designated dealer and was finally playing cards. Phil was about as drunk as humanly possible and for some reason the conversation completely derailed. I think we were talking about me being an a$$hole (thanks Pam) and suddenly Phil says, "J's sister is seriously hot. She's got a tight a$$. It's the kind of a$$ you could bounce a quarter off of."

J found this turn in the conversation to be very, very uncomfortable. And of course... everyone decided to egg this on. Phil then went on a long diatribe about how much respect that he had for J's sister and that she would have probably have appreciated the comment. J's was of the mindset that, no, no she wouldn't. The topic was dropped at least a half dozen times, only for Phil to bring it back up again. Finally J decided to settle it by calling his sister... but he only left her voicemail.

I don't remember what BLUE said to me regarding Peter Falk and/or The Princess Bride but I just turned to him and said in a gravelly-cross-eyed voice, "As you wish" and I think he blew a ventrical. Then we all continued to laugh at the growing animousity between Phil's "respectful" comments about J's sister and J's ability to block it out. I think it was at that point that Phil asked Pam if she would consider it a compliment to have a quarter bounced off her a$$. (His phrasing). At that point BLUE and I started laughing imagining going up to random people and just bouncing quarters off their a$$es. "Hey baby! *boink* How ya like that?"

I think I slipped a disk laughing so hard.

Pam just replied, "You're all a$$holes."

And then the phone rang. J sister was calling back. I scrambled to find a speaker phone and finally we were able to get her on so we could all hear. Of course, being about 4:00am, J wisely let her know that everyone was swirly. To make a long story short (too late). She vindicated Phil and did in fact take it as a compliment. As an aside though, there was a certain, "We'll talk about this tomorrow, J" line that led me to believe that it wasn't all gravy.

Oh well.

We went upstairs to get more drinks and I found a comfortable chair and collapsed. Kevin had arisen and was ready to play more cards, but I was done. The lack of sleep from the previous week and the energy spent in hosting had drained me and I fell asleep with my boots on.

There was more to this post, but I'm cutting it short in order to get some work done today. Thanks to all who came.

Pam, the raspberry donuts were tasty, by the way!
BLUE, your new guitar is sweet.

Also, thanks to Phil for cleaning my bathroom. Only minor house damage this time... a broken toilet seat, a broken toilet paper holder (you guys were hard on my bathrooms this time!), and a broken doorframe... although I suspect that the dogs did the doorframe bit.

All in all... good fun.

Posted by Monty at 10:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Today is Max's birthday. He's the big oh-n-ee. He's grown alot in his first year on Earth. As you can see from below he went from a 12lb puff ball to a 60lb brick. He spent his first few months biting me as hard as he could, now he only bites softly if at all. He play drive is still as strong as ever and he will pounce on anything that moves. He still loves to eat grass, bugs, gravel, more grass, and often dirt.

He's learned how to open the door to the deck if I don't latch it. In true "Max" form, he just rams into it. He's turned into quite a brute... he's not as fast as either Jack or Eva, but he's twice as dense. He's known for getting up a head of steam and ramming into the other dogs with his shoulder. Yesterday he reminded me of the bull in those old Bugs Bunny cartoons where the bull would come running up and launch Bugs into the air by butting into him. Jack and Eva were wrestling and Max felt left out to he charged from across the yard at full speed and rammed into both of them... sending Eva sailing and leaving Jack to wonder what'd just hit him.

He's still a sweetie too. His favorite things are licking my eye (I know, odd, but he digs it) and sleeping with his head on my leg.

Happy Birthday Mad Max Von Sydow

Posted by Monty at 11:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I'm going to apologize now. This post will probably not be terribly entertaining as I was struggling to think of something to write about.

Recently, I was pondering smells. It's very interesting to me what smells some people consider very appealing, while others consider them to be rather nasty. Take for instance the chlorine smell of an indoor pool... someone finds it awesome, others probably not so much.

I determined that my favorite nostalgic smell is that of jet fuel (JP-40). My earliest childhood memories are of being at an air force base with my father and standing as close to the jet exhaust of the planes as possible without getting burned. The high pitched whine of the engines and that smell... the smell of burning jet fuel... completely surrounded me.

I'd stand on the flight line as each plane would taxi past me headed towards the runway. The pilot of each aircraft would look over at me and salute. And I saluted back. When the planes were positioned for weapons checks, I would hop in a jeep and a pilot would drive me out to the middle of the airfield next to the runway. I'd climb out of the jeep and stand on hood sometimes. The planes would then light their afterburners and the high pitched whine turned into an infernal roar as the planes tore down the runway in pairs. As the planes went past I was hit with a blast of exhaust, sound, and heat. As soon as two planes were halfway down the runway, two more started their afterburners and screamed to life. Then two more, and two again. By then my ears felt as though they were going to burst, but it didn't matter. I'd watch as the planes rose into the sky at the far end of the field and continued out of sight. Long after I could no longer see the dots on the horizon, I could still here the distant rumble of their engines. I wouldn't leave until I couldn't hear them anymore. Then I was driven back to the operations building to wait in the pilot's lounge. That where I learned to throw darts. Killing time until my father and the other pilots returned.

About an hour later the pilot with the jeep would come in and get me when the planes were 15 minutes away. Back out by the runway I'd listen to the radio and hear familiar voices while I scanned the skies looking for planes. Then I would see the break through the clouds... flying a formation. They'd fly straight over the field in a diagonal line formation, tightly grouped together. Then one at a time, they would break and roll hard to the left and spread themselves into a well spaced line that circled overheard. They would drop altitude and land... one after the other... quietly. Unlike the take off, landing doesn't require much input from the engines so they land much quieter than they take off... but as they past me I was hit with the familiar smell of that jet exhaust. I remember waving to my father as he landed his plane and him waving back from the cockpit and then rumbled on down the runway.

It wasn't until much later in lafe that I realized what a rare and unique experience that was. I still love the smell of jet fuel. It's a special treat anytime I get to go to the airport. It takes me back to a carefree time when the only things on my mind were enjoying a day with my father and experiencing several million dollars worth of military equipment in action.

Posted by Monty at 1:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm feeling a little bit funky today.

It started yesterday and I didn't help it by watching "Full Metal Jacket" before bed time. I don't know why I'm constantly drawn to that movie... oh yes I am... because Gunnery Sgt Hartman is one of my all-time favorite characters ever. But Kubrick before bed is never a good idea. Last time I did that was with "A Clockwork Orange" and I ended up the next day with "Singing in the Rain" in my head and shouting, "TRY THE WINE!", at random people. It was a real horror show.

So yeah... my mood hasn't improved today.

Normally, I'd write something bitter when I'm in a funky mood... so that's what I'll do today.

Speaking of funky... do people that bathe in cologne or perfume think they smell good?

I had the misfortune of stepping into an elevator as an overly perfumed lady was stepping out. It was bad enough as she wafted by, but on entering the elevator the stink pierced my soul! I had to hold my breath as I rode up the longest ride to floor three in the history of elevation.

When I arrived, I fell out of the elevator gasping like a fish out of water. The receptionist thought I was on drugs. I told her no... just revolted by some Estee Lauder.

I don't know if that's what it was. Stupid Estee Lauder.

You'll have to excuse me... as I was writing this a co-worker has walled up my work area with a 7ft high pile of boxes. There's something very Edgar Allen Poe in that concept. I don't really feel like being walled in at the moment so I need to prepare my dramatic exit.

Or, I could just take a nap at my desk and no one would be the wiser.

Ponderous.

Posted by Monty at 12:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So... I'm really getting stoked for my trip to Seattle. 11 more days and off I go for four days in the great Northwest. I've already mentally punched out of my job for the next couple of weeks. Actually... I'm not sure if I mentally punched in for my job in a month. Hmmm. Ponderous.

Anyway... I'm stoked for several reasons. The first and most obvious (to me) is that I'll get to hang out with Matt and Jay who I've seen far too infrequently in the past years. They're both awesome and my only regret is that it took this long for me to buy a stupid plane ticket to make this happen. Also, getting to see Ashley should be fun too. I don't think I've seen her in... hmmm... five years? Why am I asking you? You have no idea. Forget I asked.

Secondly, I've never been to Seattle and I love exploring new places. It's the awesome. This will be the furtherest west in the US I've gone. Prior to that Las Vegas was my western mile marker for the US and a bit further west I think to some points in the Caribbean/Mexico. I should get a map and double check that. Not now though. So yeah, Seattle. Fun!

Thirdly... I like the flying. I really do. It took me a while to get back into the enjoyment of flying after 9/11, but this will mark my 11th or 12th flight since then and I've really lightened up on the fear of being blown to pieces bit. Not that I think I'm any safer now than then... I just realize there's nothing I can do about it so why worry? Relaxed and groovy... the only way to fly. Actually, drunk out of your skull is fun too.

My flight, for once, isn't leaving at dawn. I've usually been known to book flights at the crack of dawn so that I arrive at my destination (often Las Vegas) with the maximum amount of fun time left in the day. I'm also exhausted before I even get off the plane. I rarely sleep on planes... except during the last 20 minutes of flight. For some reason, that's when I get sleepy and nod off. Just in time to be awakened for landing. It's a mean joke. I'm flying United, my favorite airline (We know you have a choice in air carriers and we thank you for choosing United.). It has three things going for it...

1- Clean planes
2- The cockpit channel on my headset (I love listening to the pilot-ATC banter... yes, aviation geek).
3- Economy Plus uber seating. (I love me the extra 6 inches of legroom.)

So since my flight doesn't leave until noon and I'm on a comfy flight, I should enjoy it quite a bit. I've got about 4.5 hours of batteries for my laptop and more than enough DVDs and video games to keep me entertained for the 5.5 hour flight.

Because of all of my stupid health issues, I've got no leave left so this 4 day trip is basically my vacation for the year. I'm sure I'll make the most of it.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Why do people refer to themselves and someone else when they go down a slide? Skip it.

Posted by Monty at 12:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Saturday was dominated by the birthday party of my seven year old nephew. When I arrived (late... no surprise there) the party was well under way and there seemed to be dozens of kids between the ages of 0-7. They'd all recently been fed a healthy dose of sugar covered cake and were moving and screaming like bikers on a meth bender.

I tried to find a place to hide until the kids passed out, but nothing doing. The party was a pokemon themed event and two overly excited children decided it was in my best interest to have the concept of pokemon explained to me in excruciatingly confusing detail. One of them almost hit me because I continued to refer to the pokemon as "Pooky Man". I thought it was funny, but what do I know. One kid was so impressed with one of his cards that he continued to pester me about how powerful it was and how he was the most powerful because he had it. I pulled out my VISA card and told him that my card could beat his card any day of the week and twive on Sunday.

As the day went on, the first kid casualties began to pour in. There had been a sand fight at one point and several kids were wounded with sand in their eyes. I watched with mild amusement as assorted parents (note: I was the only one there sans kids) attempted to resolve the "sand in the eye" issue. There was one solution that involved having a kid submerge his head under water in the nearby ice water tub that was full of drinks. I thought they were joking until the kid dunked his head in the cold water and then came up yelling about his eye and hypothermia. The next idea I overheard was to go get the hose and shoot water into the kid's eye to force the sand out. Not making that up. I suggested we get a power-washer.

I got the angry look.

A bit later there were fireworks. Rockets, tanks, fountains, etc. Boom, pow, rat-a-tat-tat. The finale was to give all of the kids sparklers. Several of them. I watched with mild amusement as kids began twirling around firing sparks hither and yon. Then they started setting the yard on fire. And then themselves. One kid got burned and threw up both arms in a true "Rocky" pose shouting, "I got burned! I got burned, everybody!" as proud as he could be. And then he ran around the yard. At that point I had to stop watching and laughing and start putting out fires on the lawn.

Later while roasting marshmellows, my niece burned her hand with hot molten goo. I took care of her because apparently no one else knew what to do with a burn. I must have done a good job because she told me, "You're the best Uncle Monty ever."

I don't think there were any fatalities.

Posted by Monty at 11:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This is a sad note.

Today is the last day of work for two people at my job. Coincidently, they both happen to be the two people that I can relate to most on the job. I don't know what I'll do to fill my non-productive time.

The network engineer has already gone. Our goodbye went as below:

Network Engineer: "A$$hole."
Monty: "Your mama."

That was that.

The marketing director's goodbye will be later. I've told her she can't leave until she cleans out her office because I'm planning on annexing it. I've even got a flag and everything.

Posted by Monty at 11:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I haven't done a Friday's Amazing Retard Trophy in a very, very long time. Today, the 13th of the Fridays... I've got a new one.

It's me.

I know I usually reserve my bitter angst and scorn for heads of state or assorted members of popular culture, but I think I get the award this week for truly acting like a retard.

So last night, I received a shipment of frozen meat (thanks Phil!) packed in it's own styrofoam cooler and everything. I eagerly cracked the cooler open to behold the wonderment of pound upon pound of glorious glorious meat. I was a bit distracted on the phone while I was unpacking the cooler and for some reason missed the green wording in a huge font that said, "WARNING - DRY ICE! DO NOT TOUCH WITHOUT GLOVE!". So I just reached on in there and grabbed me a handful of dry ice. I feel sorry for the person on the other end of the phone because I'm sure my vocal explosion couldn't have been a comfort to one's ear.

That in and of itself... not retarded. Stupid... but not retarded.

It was when I had the, "Hey! I've got a pound of dry ice to play with!" moment that things began to unravel.

I plopped a small piece in to a mug of hot water and giggled insanely as it started smoking and making my Alice in Wonderland coffee mug look like something out of a mad scientist's lab.

"Tee-hee", I said.

If dry ice in hot water looked cool in a coffee mug, I sure did think it'd look cooler in a tinted liquor bottle! Luckily, I had an empty Grand Marnier bottle handy. I filled it up with hot water and plopped in a few chunks of dry ice. (Also, leather sword gauntlets are the most perfect dry ice handlers ever.) So the Grand Marnier bottle erupted in bubbly smoke and fun.

"Tee-hee-hee", I said.

And then I thought... I bet this would look super uber cool if I were to cork the bottle up so when I uncork it nifty smoke would come out. So I put the cork in the bottle and plugged it tight.

Now... anyone whose taken physics is probably thinking something along the lines of... "hey, you've got an endothermic reaction going on there... as that piece of solid dry ice turns itself into a gas... it's expanding... exponentially... and you just sealed that expanding gas inside a bottle... a glass bottle.

Let's take a brief trip in the way back machine... about 17 years ago I had decided that a good use of my time was to take a CO2 cartridge and place in into a 16oz Coke bottle and then put the cap back on it. When the CO2 was pierced, it would bubble and such. Every now and then it would stop bubbling, but if I tapped the glass bottle, it'd start bubbling again. Well after about 15 minutes, the bubbling stopped and went to tap the glass... and I tapped it and it exploded. My face was about 4 inches from the bottle at the time as I was looking in to see if more bubbles were en route. Boom.

I remember not being able to see. Everything was black and I remember hearing the explosion and being very wet. I figured I'd blinded myself... but I hadn't. When the bottle blew my eyes shut and stayed shut... once I opened them both and saw that I could still see, I was happy. I went into my bathroom to get a towel and that's when I saw that I have several pieces of glass in my face and was bleeding quite a bit. Three pieces were within an inch or two of my eyes. I got some tweezers and spent a very long time fishing glass out of skin. Not pleasant.

So the Grand Marnier bottle starts hissing.... like a very angry cobra. And I get the flashback of the exploding Coke bottle. In slow motion I reached for the cork to release some pressure before it blew, but I was too late. There was an amazingly loud boom... it sounded like someone fired off a shotgun in my kitchen. I hit the floor (hard) and then something hit me in the head. It was the cork. The Grand Marnier bottle was still intact but had fired its cork like a cannon straight into the ceiling and then on to my head.

Sadly... I'm now out of dry ice.

Posted by Monty at 9:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I found out that I'm getting some international visits from the following places (in order of traffic):

Poland
Turkey
Canada
India
Thailand
Brazil
Germany
Australia
United Kingdom
Japan
Netherlands
China
Colombia
Italy
Mexico
Russian Federation
Yugoslavia

I'm curious how much of that is legit traffic. I'm going to guess that Russia, Yugoslavia, China, Thailand, India, and Turkey are all bad guys up to something.

But I think I'm big in Poland. I'm like their version of Jerry Lewis in France.

Aren't I lucky.

And there went my Polish audience.

Hey Canada... crap.

Posted by Monty at 11:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I used to have the mindset that anything that you can eat, you can grill... provided you have the right accessory. Grilled corn, veggies, scrimps, fish, you name it... I'll grill it.

Except vegetarian bacon.

I've cooked a veggie burger and veggie hotdog before... and aside from being tacky there wasn't any problem.

Veggie bacon... completely different beast.

I set out the food I wanted, where I wanted on the grill so it would all be done about the same time. I was just guessing on what to do with the facon. I guessed wrong.

After about 5 minutes, I came out to flip my burger and lifted the grill cover to discover that the facon was on fire. Not like a normal grill/grease fire... it was more like a toxic waste fire with acrid smoke and bubbling. I let loose a few choice words and attempted to put out the fire. No dice. So I just let it burn itself out.

It left a creepy oily residue all over the grill area where it was... like an oil slick. I spent 30 minutes cleaning it, but there's still some oogy left there. At some point I'll pull the grates and give them a stern washing, but for now I'm just going to avoid that section of the grill.

And of course the moral of the story... don't be a vegetarian.

Posted by Monty at 10:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last night was rather interesting. Not interesting in so much that this post will be anything substantial or impressive, but it was interesting that in that I spent a lot of time working on manual dexterity.

As you know, I recently aquired a PS3. It's quite addictive. Last night I got started playing the video game Call of Duty 3. It's your standard shooter, world war II game. I shouldn't say that, it does go beyond "standard" but the basics are the same. I was Johnny Buttonmasher for a couple couple of hours last night. Things were going swimmingly. It also helped me practice my German. Now, when I go to Germany I'll be able to say several new phrases... such as "The enemy is in the house", "Shoot over there", "Grenade!", and "Kill the American". I will do so well overseas. At one point in the game I had to drive a jeep around France. That was very cathartic. Important note for dictionary lovers out there... I'm referring to the emotional release definition of cathartic... not the laxative version. But yeah... I spent a good 45 minutes running over pedestrians in the jeep. Before you judge... they were jay-walking... and shooting at me. And the game alternative is far better than the "drive into DC with a plow" alternative. So yeah.... vroooom!

At one point in the game, the story switched me from being an American soldier to being a British commando helping the French underground. It took me many restarts before I got it through my head that I wasn't supposed to shoot all of the Frenchies. I couldn't help myself.

Eventually the game took away my jeep and supply of French targets so I quit.

I then picked up the guitar and practiced for a while. My fingers are still sore. I should mention that I'm double jointed in my fingers so it's harder for me to keep pressure on the strings. I can't use leverage because my fingers will just bend backwards... about 15 degrees at each knuckle. It's creepy really, although there are some benefits. I had to stop that after a bit because it was just killing the fingers. The new strings are taking more time to get used to than I'd hoped.

I then decided to watch "Snatch". Since I was in a Brit-alt music frame of mind anyway, it seemed like a good idea. I do so enjoy that film. After it was over I just felt like going to bed, so I did... at the early hour of 2am I think. That was an early night.

I reaped the reward of 7 whole hours of sleep... double my usual. I actually feel more tired now though than if I'd had less.

I can't win.

Oh well. It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. That's a stupid line. If you lose the game, then you obviously played it like a loser... otherwise you'd have won. So basically... if you lose... you've lost... because you play like a loser... and you've got bad breath.

I'm sure I had a point when I started this...

Posted by Monty at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Something is stirring in the dungeon beneath my house.

Posted by Monty at 11:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I can't believe I used a title inspired by Mary Poppins.

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

I was looking at some stats and I'm happy to report a 50% increase in traffic over this time last month. I'm seeing a lot of new fingerprints in the logs and more frequent repeated visits as well. I guess if I keep writing, people will keep reading. Funny how that works.

In a bit of a clean up, I'm only keeping 10 days worth of posts on the front page. It was 14, but it was also 37 feet long and scrolling is neh fun.

If I keep up with the frequency of posts, I might drop it further to only a week's worth.

All of the old posts are still archived by date and convoluted subjectification.

Mary Poppins... sheesh. Don't get me started on Dick Van Dyke's woeful cockney accent. Did he go to Australia to learn that? He sounds like bloody Paul Hogan... "That's not a knife, Mary... this is a knife. Look, I'm a chimney sweep, I'm gonna throw another shrimp on the barbie!"

Stupid Dick Van Dyke and his stupid accents. I'm going to go to Aus (Oz) and start a revolt amongst my people. 'Stralians Against Dick Van Dyke.... or SAD VD.

That's not such a good acronym now that I think about it. I don't think anyone would join up with a club called SAD VD.

You've won this round mister Van Dyke... but I'll get you... I'll get you.

Good lord.

Posted by Monty at 1:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Where's my brain?

No seriously, where? I seemed to have lost it... again.

About 3 months ago I started listening to some rather odd choices in music... for me anyway. I got on a Guy Ritchie film kick and ended up getting the soundtracks to Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels and also Snatch.

There's a lot of British alt-rock, a bit of glam-rock, some random stuff and a bit of James Brown. Most of the music is from unknowns. It all fits a certain feel though.

I seem to be getting back into that Brit alt mood again. Not so much the glam side, but I will admit that Duran Duran still holds a special place for me. I've seen them live 3 times. Throw daggers if you'd like... don't care. Duran Duran is a great live show.

[Switching CDs to Astronaut - Duran Duran]

So I've found myself stealing bandwidth from my day job to download a healthy plate of new music. Top of the list currently is "The Ego Has Landed" by Robbie Williams. (I know BLUE, I'm late to the party again... but better late than never.) One of the songs on that album was on the Lock-Stock soundtrack and I rather enjoyed it. So I decided to get the album.

Which is really out of character for me. I tend to just find a single and leave it at that.

By the way... anyone who's still laughing about Duran Duran... you suck.

I'll admit that they're not on par with my substantive tastes, but they're fun... and sometimes music doesn't have to move you... maybe just entertain you.

I smell like sound, I'm lost and I'm found... yeah baby.

Happy Monday kiddies.

Posted by Monty at 12:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm out of sorts today. I actually got some sleep last night... it was that kinda coma sleep though, where you lay down, blink, and then it's morning and you've somehow merged into the mattress. I forgot to set my alarm last night and woke up late... thanks mainly to a dog wrestling match on my back. (I lost... so that's now Dogs: 23, Monty: 02).

I usually don't have much time in the mornings to do anything. I'm usually out of bed, into the bathroom, dressed and off to work. I decided to read some e-mail today and then play with the dogs and the more e-mail. Then I remembered that I had a presentation today and I should probably attend it. I got to work fine, but my brain was elsewhere (shocking!) so I was late for my own presentation. I didn't know a VP was going to be attending so that didn't go well. Luckily the presentation itself went fine. I think (hope) that I'm done with presentations for a while. They don't bother me much, but after doing the same one several times I'm ready to move on.

I was thirsty and wanted some water but didn't have a bottle handy. I usually drink some Gatoraid from home in the AM and just refill the bottle with water, but I'd botched it and forgotten to bring one in. So I went to the vending machine to buy a bottle of water.

I had forgotten that they raised the prices on beverages. They went from $1 to $1.10. I didn't have any change so I put in $2 and cursed the inflation gods for their perpetual interference in my life. I hit the Deer Park button and out burped my water. The change from my $2 also started to burp out. It decided to give me $.90 in nickles and dimes. And somebody torqued up the dispensor because that puppy was firing coins all over the place. I thought it was done and I reached down to get my chump change and it started firing coins again. And I caught one in the eye.

That hurt.

Not in a pain, law suit sort of way but in a "hey, that was dumb" sorta way. I grabbed my dime, wiped the blood off it, and shook my fist at the machine.

Also... Deer Park. Not where I want my water from. I'd like my water from "No Animals Pooed or Peed in Your Water Park". I'm looking at this label as I type and there's a deer or moose on the label that's just saying to me, "Me chinese, me play joke, me put pee pee in the stream that filled your water bottle because that's what deer do." I know it doesn't rhyme, but it's a deer so you should just be impressed that it can form thoughts like that.

Stupid deer.

I'm going to go find a bow hunter and get a hit contract put out on the incontinent deer.

Posted by Monty at 2:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Happy Independence Day folks.

I hope everyone had the opportunity to blow something up or watch someone blow something up. The 4th this year was low-key. Phil came over and we played around with the PS3 a bit and I grilled some chicken for the dinner. As dusk hit, the missiles let fly.

The deck is set on the back of the house in such a position that it allows for the comfortable viewing of fireworks from several townships and neighborhoods. Tonight, there were hours of non-stop ballistic fun surrounding. We watched fireworks for an hour and then Phil and I began detonating the goodies we'd purchased earlier in the day. For the record, buy one get one free will result in piles and piles of explosives. Even after we'd blown through all of the bombs we bought, there were missiles flying high from several directions. We watched until they faded out and then called it a night. With work tomorrow, there's only so much festive I can do.

Also, I ran out of propane for the grill and had to go get a new tank. An important safety tip... don't let a propane tank fly around your car loose. It can bang up your interior... and maybe explode. I guess that would have at least been in the holiday spirit.

Posted by Monty at 12:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I won't waste time or internet space (there's a shortage you know) with the reasonings, but I'm working on getting vicodin out of my daily routine. Hopefully, the pain that put them in there in the first place won't be intolerable. We'll have to see.

I've already kicked all of the other assorted medications that everyone has seen fit to tell me I need. Vicodin's the last one. Sadly, the physical dependence won't make it easy. Oh well.

I'm hoping once that detox is through my insomnia will leave me. I've been dealing with that for so long, I don't know what I'd do with a normal adult's schedule. I've never had one before. We'll have to see.

I can think of many good reasons to rise and fall with the rest of the world. I can think of one good reason to continue my long nights.

Being that it's the 4th, I should probably post something about that... seperate post.

Posted by Monty at 12:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ya know, it's amazing to think that I have a job that'll allow me to sit and listen to all four sides of The Wall without being interrupted once. I don't have that job mind you, but it's amazing to think that I did. I did finally get through the whole thing from start to finish but it was broken up a bit. Vendor meetings tend to spoil the mood a bit. There was a guy doing the demo who said he "was excited to get to the meat of the presentation." I sorta murmurred aloud, "How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?" I got a couple of looks and a "What?"
"What?" I said back looking clueless (main face lately).
"What did you say?"
"What did you say? I dunno. What?"
"Are you on drugs Monty?"
"No, not today. Heh heh, no, but really no drugs."

So I have a question... at one point I could count the number of readers of this blog on one hand. At that time, I was writing for myself so I wasn't terribly consistent or... um... entertaining much. But over the past week or so I've been finding that there are quite a lot of lurkers out there. So this is a hand count. I'm curious how many people read this. If you read me, please put a comment on this thread. It can be anonymous and a "yo" is sufficient.

Also, wankers who think it's funny to add like 50 comments... don't do it. Yes, I think it's funny too, but this is a scientific experiment with controls and variables and a cattle prod, so don't make me tazer you into the stone age.

That reminds me... I need to go buy some fuses.

With tomorrow being the 4th of Julio, I need to get my explosive fix... well... fixed. I don't have any missiles per se, but I do have a keg of smokeless gunpowder, some red phosphorus, a bit of magnesium, and some diesel fuel. I'm thinking I can have me a seriously good time with that little mixture.

OK, I'm kidding. I don't have any diesel fuel.

Posted by Monty at 2:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

... with my new PS3.

If either of those two asian mormons show up on my lawn with a sling shot game stick in hand, I'm releasing the hounds. And based on how the lads (and lady) go beserk with the Chinese delivery dude... the Nintendo mafiosos won't stand a chance.

So saturday was bitter-sweat. There's a lot of that going around, but anyway. I packed up the remains of the kegerator to take back to the most Bestest of Buys. Actually before doing that, I had to figure out what to do with the keg inside... or more importantly the beer inside the keg inside the kegerator inside the kitchen inside the house inside the.... oh, I've gone cross-eyed.

So I did want any normal person would do, I made beer bread. Mmmm... that used up a grand total of 36ozs. The rest was destined for a watery drain death. As it turned out, there wasn't much left in the keg to dispatch. Maybe a gallon, if that. So we killed about 14-15 gallons of beer at the deck party. I should have never under-estimated the drinking power of my circle of friends. Shine on you crazy binge drinkers!

So the people at Best Buy were perplexed with what to do with my returned machine. They wanted someone from Geek Squad to verify that it was in fact broken. The 15 year old that was summoned was clueless as what to do with it. I said they'd need an electronics engineer if they wanted proof because it was a blown thermostat controller. They were still dubious. I said, plug the thing in... if you can press any button and make anything happen, then I'm a liar. They did... and it didn't. Money was handed back to me. I almost wept leaving the body of Keggy behind, but I had to think he was in was in better place. He was probably going to be harvested for parts for all I knew.

As a consulation prize, I bought a PS3. A seperate post on reviews will come later after I've spent some time with it. Initial thoughts:

Blu-Ray vid quality gave me a boner.

I downloaded Mortal Kombat II (old school) and Gauntlet II (oldest school), awesome.

It has better optics for media reading than my old DVD player and eliminated skips and dual-layer change load pause.

It up-converts 480i/p signals to 720p/1080i beautifully. I wasn't even interested in that aspect, but it was really, really amazing.

So far I've been spending more time with it as a Blu-Ray box than a game system... but that'll change.

Oh, also like that I can download (wireless) game demos for free from Sony.

Posted by Monty at 2:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was fidgeting around with the guitar several times this weekend and came across a few problems.

1) I'm obsessed of late with numeric lists, apparently

2) I forgot how much of a pain breaking my fingers in would be. Oh muh middle finger is bitter.

3) I can't remember much of what I used to play.

4) My fingers are a problem when swollen... usually from dehydration. I could go into a standard A cleanly to save my life. To many fat fingers behind one fret.

So I decided it's time to get back on the old tread climber.

If you've ever seen this thing on TV, it looks deceptively simple. And in principle it is, but it's a serious workout. The initial sessions getting started have always been murder. I ran my first 30 min workout yesterday and got through it fairly well all things considered. It was easier than I'd expected. My cardio was a mess though... obviously this was needed for a few reasons.

The knee held up ok. The treadclimber is low impact (the commercial will tell you it's like walking in sand... it isn't. It's like walking up an escalator that goes a mile. I wore the brace despite feeling pretty strongly that my knee would be ok without it. The I remembered that that attitude is what landed me back in the ortho chair with an angry knee again.

So we'll see how it goes. Between the water uptake increase and 3x30min cardios a week I'll probably drop 15lbs by the end of the month. That's 105lbs of pressure off the right knee for every step I take... incentive. One of several.

New tubes for the amp arrive today. Happiness. Reverb goodness awaits.

Later this week, some more fun gadgets and playthings arrive. That's a surprise though... sssshhh!

Although one very important piece to that puzzle is backordered... which blows. Anyway... surprise will be unveiled here in a couple of weeks... hopefully.

Posted by Monty at 1:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)