You're at a TOOL concert and the skies have been thoroughly unkind, erupting in a torrential downpour upon the entire outdoor arena where hundreds of fans wait in eager anticipation of the events to come. Suddenly, the band takes the stage to a deafening roar of applause! As the music tears through the night, one by one there can be seen a small beacon shining in the place of every soul facing the wall of brilliant sound.
It is a cell phone.
If there exists a top ten list for "Signs you work at a cell phone company," this would be about eight of them: And all at once, you feel a great disturbance in the force! It as if a million voices suddenly cried out in unison, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T REPLACE MY PHONE IT NEVER GOT WET I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN'T JUST GIVE ME A NEW ONE I MEAN I NEVER DROPPED IT IN WATER OR ANYTHING WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS IT CAN'T BE WET I DON'T UNDERSTAND"
But seriously, it was fucking great. We were cold and tired and very, very, very wet, but TOOL is simply unbelievable. As a band it is difficult to comprehend the magnitude of their excellence, and every inch of it was relayed in concert. My friends...you missed a show.
And the mud moshing.
The set list, for anyone who cares, looked something like this:
Stinkfist
The Pot
Something I forget
Lost Keys
Schism
Rosetta Stoned
Lateralus
10000 Days
Vicarious
I forget this one too
Till next time!
Friday, September 29, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
::sniff sniff::
Smell that? THAT is the smell of fall. The crisp air of impending seasonal depression is upon us, and I think we can all agree it smells awesome. I have a number of wonderful things to inform you, readers that I might call my own (and I guess christine's as well), so let's get right to it.
First and most importantly, I have quit my job as of the end of this month. Yes, this is sad and terrible and will usher in a new age of eternal woe and misery upon the hapless other workers at the big V, or so they tell me. Usually in high-pitched whines, or whinges, as it has now come to be known. Sucks for them. My final day with the cellular monstrosity occurs All Hallow's Eve this year, hence the dark (read: cliched) theme I fully intend to abuse in this here blog thing until such a time as Oct 31st passes. Then I can write with a food theme perhaps? Or just ignore thanksgiving and write snowy for two months. We will, as the wise men say, cross that bridge when we come to it, which burns down, casting its contents into a firey chasm of unknown horror.
Halloween is fucking great.
Annnnyhoo. So I'm gonna geek out a moment, as the all-important First Paragraph has been past, and thus I can reasonably assume anyone reading this either cares, or is quite bored. The other day, working late and dicking around in the back with some coworkers, a distraught girl wandered up to the counter, wishing to know if there was any way we could transfer the phone contacts from her old phone to her new one, as this would take bloody ages to do by hand. Being the champion of distraught girls everywhere, I boldly took the phone from her hand and went to work. The contacts wouldn't transfer, of course--having the data port torn from the phone in what I can only imagine was a violent (losing) battle with a pair of needle-nose pliers will do that--but as I handed the phone back, I opened the phone absentmindedly to appear as if I was attempting to solve the problem in a handy sort of way despite the circumstances. I closed the phone. Then I opened it again, lest my eyes deceive me. There, in all its backlit LCD glory, was the image of a rather menacing-looking dragon. A...Magic: The Gathering dragon. A Niv-Mizzet, to be precise. And like the incredibly silly geek that I am, I got really excited and bantered with her about magic for a while. I was quite certain that, had Christine been there, she would have laughed hysterically for perhaps hours. And then maybe disemboweled her, after she came back in to chat again. Had to get the halloween part in there somewhere, right?
Either way, this was all strikingly relevant, as days later I went to a tournament for the game with my dear friend (hot) Paul. All I can say is...
Me: Wow, what are the chances of that?
Paul: About one in twenty.
Until next time, my dear readers. Tool concert Thursday. You bet your ass I'm writing about that.
whirred.
First and most importantly, I have quit my job as of the end of this month. Yes, this is sad and terrible and will usher in a new age of eternal woe and misery upon the hapless other workers at the big V, or so they tell me. Usually in high-pitched whines, or whinges, as it has now come to be known. Sucks for them. My final day with the cellular monstrosity occurs All Hallow's Eve this year, hence the dark (read: cliched) theme I fully intend to abuse in this here blog thing until such a time as Oct 31st passes. Then I can write with a food theme perhaps? Or just ignore thanksgiving and write snowy for two months. We will, as the wise men say, cross that bridge when we come to it, which burns down, casting its contents into a firey chasm of unknown horror.
Halloween is fucking great.
Annnnyhoo. So I'm gonna geek out a moment, as the all-important First Paragraph has been past, and thus I can reasonably assume anyone reading this either cares, or is quite bored. The other day, working late and dicking around in the back with some coworkers, a distraught girl wandered up to the counter, wishing to know if there was any way we could transfer the phone contacts from her old phone to her new one, as this would take bloody ages to do by hand. Being the champion of distraught girls everywhere, I boldly took the phone from her hand and went to work. The contacts wouldn't transfer, of course--having the data port torn from the phone in what I can only imagine was a violent (losing) battle with a pair of needle-nose pliers will do that--but as I handed the phone back, I opened the phone absentmindedly to appear as if I was attempting to solve the problem in a handy sort of way despite the circumstances. I closed the phone. Then I opened it again, lest my eyes deceive me. There, in all its backlit LCD glory, was the image of a rather menacing-looking dragon. A...Magic: The Gathering dragon. A Niv-Mizzet, to be precise. And like the incredibly silly geek that I am, I got really excited and bantered with her about magic for a while. I was quite certain that, had Christine been there, she would have laughed hysterically for perhaps hours. And then maybe disemboweled her, after she came back in to chat again. Had to get the halloween part in there somewhere, right?
Either way, this was all strikingly relevant, as days later I went to a tournament for the game with my dear friend (hot) Paul. All I can say is...
Me: Wow, what are the chances of that?
Paul: About one in twenty.
Until next time, my dear readers. Tool concert Thursday. You bet your ass I'm writing about that.
whirred.
Monday, September 11, 2006
poetic, natch
"the complicated thing about buttons, is not the buttons, but rather the button holes."
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Titles are for pansies. Wait...
Good morning friends and actively stalking enemies! Given that I have done very little this morning--other than determining the Magic: Online server is down for maintenance--I figured I could say a few words to the ether about some things we all care about. Like, um...pants. And maybe Facebook.
First of all, I am well aware this blog feeds directly into my Facebook Notes, and thus to the Grand Universal Feed of Everything You Never Needed to Know (GUFEYNNK). This may cause a small modicum of confusion to those unaware of this blog's existence. One, it's a team blog. That means more than one person writes in it. Thus, despite the fact that it shows up in your nifty feed thing, it might not be my own. At present, the lovely Christine Cambrook (whom I adore, natch) is the only other contributor. Two, if you don't click "Read More" or "Read Original Post" or whatever, you only get the first paragraph and are MISSING OUT. Obviously this second point is utterly worthless, as if you're reading it you've already made it to the coveted second paragraph, or already read our blog. If you already read our blog, you also run the risk of not having facebook and therefore not knowing what the hell I'm talking about. This is probably not a new concept for you.
I'll expound simply. Facebook is a wondrous social network. It has the capability to form links between persons through friends, relationships, pictures, classes, interests, events, blogs, and more. In the past, whenever a link was created or destroyed, you had to actually take the time to look at a person's social presence and note the differences. Now that information is fed to you wholesale in one contiguous avalanche of comments and social activity. Given the backlash against this, I'd wager it will be removed shortly. Before it does, though, I guess I'll add my two cents.
First of all, I'm in favor of it for a few reasons. One, I've generally lost interest in Facebook. Not attending the University any longer, and thus not being a part of any of the zany antics documented therein, I can't possibly justify running from profile to profile checking to see what went down at Chitterin Chet's Wacky Luau o' RUM and whether or not anything juicy occurred. While I might care about the people attending it, I can't possibly be bothered to care about the details. The Facebook feed gives me a general zeitgeist (look it up) that is easily digested. It fits perfectly into the current internet news formula as well: Interesting stories are written, summarized and listed elsewhere, those summaries condensed into headlines elsewhere, headlines ranked according to popularity elsewhere, and from there people pick and choose the news and depth into the stories as they please. The Feed does everything but the last bit there, though I'd be willing to bet it would have been added in the future should this have proved popular.
Two, it means 186 people--or however many Facebook friends I happen to have at the moment--are notified whenever this blog updates. That's pretty fucking exciting for me! Is it gonna change my tone at all? Hell no. They'll ignore the Feed entry if they don't care, and I'm fine with that. The prospect of even one additional reader/commenter is delightful, however, and whoever you are, thanks for reading. Now read the archives. DO IT.
First of all, I am well aware this blog feeds directly into my Facebook Notes, and thus to the Grand Universal Feed of Everything You Never Needed to Know (GUFEYNNK). This may cause a small modicum of confusion to those unaware of this blog's existence. One, it's a team blog. That means more than one person writes in it. Thus, despite the fact that it shows up in your nifty feed thing, it might not be my own. At present, the lovely Christine Cambrook (whom I adore, natch) is the only other contributor. Two, if you don't click "Read More" or "Read Original Post" or whatever, you only get the first paragraph and are MISSING OUT. Obviously this second point is utterly worthless, as if you're reading it you've already made it to the coveted second paragraph, or already read our blog. If you already read our blog, you also run the risk of not having facebook and therefore not knowing what the hell I'm talking about. This is probably not a new concept for you.
I'll expound simply. Facebook is a wondrous social network. It has the capability to form links between persons through friends, relationships, pictures, classes, interests, events, blogs, and more. In the past, whenever a link was created or destroyed, you had to actually take the time to look at a person's social presence and note the differences. Now that information is fed to you wholesale in one contiguous avalanche of comments and social activity. Given the backlash against this, I'd wager it will be removed shortly. Before it does, though, I guess I'll add my two cents.
First of all, I'm in favor of it for a few reasons. One, I've generally lost interest in Facebook. Not attending the University any longer, and thus not being a part of any of the zany antics documented therein, I can't possibly justify running from profile to profile checking to see what went down at Chitterin Chet's Wacky Luau o' RUM and whether or not anything juicy occurred. While I might care about the people attending it, I can't possibly be bothered to care about the details. The Facebook feed gives me a general zeitgeist (look it up) that is easily digested. It fits perfectly into the current internet news formula as well: Interesting stories are written, summarized and listed elsewhere, those summaries condensed into headlines elsewhere, headlines ranked according to popularity elsewhere, and from there people pick and choose the news and depth into the stories as they please. The Feed does everything but the last bit there, though I'd be willing to bet it would have been added in the future should this have proved popular.
Two, it means 186 people--or however many Facebook friends I happen to have at the moment--are notified whenever this blog updates. That's pretty fucking exciting for me! Is it gonna change my tone at all? Hell no. They'll ignore the Feed entry if they don't care, and I'm fine with that. The prospect of even one additional reader/commenter is delightful, however, and whoever you are, thanks for reading. Now read the archives. DO IT.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
things that go buzz in the night
there is a daddy-long-legs buzzing around my lamp. It is freaking me out. Interestingly, or not, what I call a daddy-long-legs (hyphons??opinion?) is a different insect to what the 'merkins call the very same name. Apparently yours is some kind of a spider. Ours is clearly superior, having wings and all. And no, i do not have psychic powers or an other-worldly connection with Steve Irwin,.. the woman on the face paint stand chose a crocodile for me! I wanted a lizard!
Also, this is hilarious... World of Warcraft -Adam, its all for you.
Also, this is hilarious... World of Warcraft -Adam, its all for you.
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