Sith Happens

Informal hours are what they call the schedule here at my office. In other words, If you are into 2 Martini lunches, Putt-Putt, or a fan of Vader, this is the place you want to work come Lucas' latest galaxian installment.

As the opening day drew closer, I started having visions of standing at the helm of the Millenium Falcon with arms outstretched, while Leonardo DiCaprio was gently holding me steady.

A moral crux though. Should I go see Episode III without my bride in company? Last time I saw a movie without her, I felt so guilty, I had to punch a kitten just to devert my anxiety.

Although, I did knock off to see the Matrix 2 without her at lunch one time, and I have to say she owes me big-time for sparing her that. Whoever wrote that talk in circles screenvomit, must've analyzed and implemented Clinton's strategy for defining the word is.

So while all of the Star Geeks have probably gone back to Tatooine to herd Nerf by now, I know that If I go at lunch, they win. I'll just be another dude watching Episode III without female companionship. Not in this parsec pal.

If you think Chili's is fine-dining, you might be a Fall-ujhan.

This just in from Marble Falls, Texas. Country-folk have no sense of distance. And I guess it would make sense. If you had to drive 3 miles off of your property just to check your mail box for your latest issue of Tiger Beat, the perception of distance is difernt for us boulevard loving Townies.

I'm not really trying to single out Marble-Fallians either. But then again, you probably have some cutsey name that you call yourselves like Fallsies or Marb-tians, and it's probably for sale in baby blue paint on a wooden rooster or on a clogging boot with flowers. And then I would have no choice but to single you out.

Maybe I'll just go back to buy one of those cowboy butt bend-over silhouttes I've been dreaming of owning, and write my own name for you on its behind.

"Oh its up the road, turn left when you get around there, up there you know on the road." Does not qualify as directions, or even simple human communication. I think grunting might have come across quicker.

Right outside town, means right outside town. If I drive past the city limits sign and count to 3 Mississippi, that's right outside town. Burnet, is not right outside town. Its its own town. Sure its outside of your town, but so is the rest of humanity. And apparently so is floss.

Google owes me a Ha'penny

So, my bride informed me that she noticed my first actual ad on the side of my blog.
Until now they had just been PSA's promoting MS awareness & curbing reckless
Propecia pill tossing at baby showers.

They, Google, said it would automatically generate ads on the site that matched the content of the posts and then give me "mad dollaz" depending on traffic. I think the logarithm they were onto in Office Space is the one they use to define how they send me Benjamins. I'm at .073 of a cent. At this pace, 5 months from now I'm treating myself to a pack of border-bridge-to-Mexico Chiclets.

Without further ado, my ad experiment:

Federal Agents mad 'cause I'm flagrant • Siberian Mail Order Brides • Incontinent in Social Settings? • Classmates.com feud ends in Teacher's Lounge tragedy • Men are from Bacon, Women are from Tomato (thanks Brooks) • Versace all the rage in Tibet • Hamsters lead charge in Smoking Ban • Black market lithium ring • Stop throwing your money away, Burn it • Canadian Tree Frogs spell doom to Paris Hilton

Game on.

I must smell like Bacon

Its the only reason I can think of why my two pooches prefer my affection over that of my lovely bride.

We give them the same milk bones, brush 'em with the same ionic pet-brush, and give them the same doses of dog-crack. Canine Carry Outs better come out with a Methadone equivalent, or stay in business so help me God.

The day their fix goes away, is the day they pee on my remote. Again.

Remember the Pizzaria Chips that came out in the late '80's? Or Sizzlean? Their departure from the marketplace was traumatic enough for a child with cognitive reason. What do think it'll do to someone who looks at the toilet and sees Evian?

It's kind of sad to know they're not thinking "Hey, Dad's home", rather: "It's Baaaaacon."

I love that positioning too. "Dogs can't tell the difference." I think dogs can tell the difference. If every dogs' hiney smelled the same, the why the adamant demand to run up and grab a whiff of every new one they come across?

All in all I think my wife is coming out ahead in this. She thinks the dogs' attention for her isn't fairly balanced, and I'm telling the world that I might be emitting rosemary rubbed pork medallion pheromones.

You know how you traded Dad exploits in the schoolyard? "My Dad can lift 200 lbs with his bunion. My Dad eats 10 hamburgers on the way to buy 10 more." Maybe they'll use this next time they're at the dog run. "My dad smells like salted pork."

Mama I'm Coming Home

So. I got the new Nine Inch Nails album today.

And by got I mean downloaded radio rips months before its official release, signed up for the fan club, got tickets to see them later this month, and had an actual paid for copy I purchased in advance Fed-Exed to my house at the exact moment of release. Kind of makes that Star Wars guy camping out look like a Nerf Herder.

Now, there's only one course of action left to take. I have to move back in with my parents.

26 years old, mortage, married, and a living room full of Pottery-Restoration-Barrel or not, this album demands the right enviroment to be fully appreciated. In fact I took a long look at my teeth in the mirror today & thought I could use another set of braces.

And after Feast tanks in the box office, there's sure to be a Project Greenlight Garage Sale where I can pick up some creature feature make-up to fake a face full of acne. I can't wait to haggle Matt Damon for a Cuisinart.

"What if this whole crusade's, a charade?
And behind it all there's a price to be paid
For the blood, on which we dine,
Justified in the name of the holy and the divine?"

Wow. A refrain like that can only resonate after a half hour of folding clothes while being forced to watch Sit & Fit on PBS. I think teenage angst stems also from twin size mattresses & standard cable.

I can just see the potential for an anger like the yester year. Anger at my meager $40 a week allowance, anger at my own brand new car at the age of 15, anger when the Fruity Pebbles ran out.

Angry that Trent Reznor never responded to my letters with anything other than an official looking subpoena & restraining order.

At first listen, With_Teeth has everything to renew a once disillusioned stalker, er.. fan, I mean fan.

So, until I can make the move back home to generate some real hosility to fully appreciate With_Teeth, I'll have to just think about how John Tesh just earned my entire salary while I wrote this.

Contact B.O.

For the past 9 years, I have been an avid attendee of the legendary Eeyore's Birthday Party down in Pease Park in beautiful Austin, Texas. A great event and place where all of Austin's most freaky and hippie, can come celebrate doing what they do best: confusing us all by publicly being loud, smelly, and high.

I proudly went to the University here in Austin. And no that doesn't mean one of the 323 Austin Community College campuses. In fact to be considered a satellite campus, I believe all you need is 13 out of a standard 22 piece Funk & Wagnall's Encyclopedia set.

But I did take the liberty of looking up "Advanced Pagan Skunk Waltzes" and "Drum Circle Theory" in the ACC course schedule, was disappointed when there were no such classes to enroll in. For someone who needs to know how to coat the inside of their nether-regions with reflective silver paint and thong it around the local park, I was deeply saddened.

I applaud the families who brought their children to the event. For once the parents were stoned in public, rather than just on the Futon ala the 364 other days of the year. BTW, be wary of complementing their children of such families about their costumes. You might just find out they are hand-me-downs from the wardrobe of the Muppets last movie.

My favorite costumes strangely were less slutty, of which there were enough to make Heidi Fleiss look pious, and the more interpretive. Ever see someone act like bong resin?

Anyways, Happy Birthday Eeyore. I know in my heart you really turned 42 this year. Even though the beer cups said 41 & were from last year.

I wouldn't sweat it though. Mostly everyone that day who stared at that 2004 long enough, believed they could make it a 2005.