Sunday, July 13, 2008

New Blog

To my loyal CAR fan(s):  I have begun a new blog that will be focused on various personal happenings such as climbing trips and, well - just climbing trips so far.  The idea is to have a place to post trip reports, etc. that I can send my family to.  They may not appreciate the wit and insight displayed on my blog, and therefore, I may not inherit my grandfather's 1971 Subaru that is headed my way if they were to get a good look at the carneasadarobot.

I will keep posting here, but feel free to check out Watch Your Brother Grow a Beard if you find any interest in such things.  I had a busy week in the mountains last week and have two trip reports to prove it.

Here is an inspiring Zappa lyric to get you excited about it.

Brown shoes don't make it
Brown Shoes don't make it
Quit school, why fake it
Brown shoes don't make it

TV dinner by the pool
Watch your brother grow a beard
Got another year of school
You're okay, he's too weird
Be a plummer
He's a bummer
He's a bummer every summer
Be a loyal plastic robot
For a world that doesn't care
That's right

Smile at every ugly
Shine on your shoes and cut your hair

Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Be a jerk-go to work
Do your job, and do it right
Life's a ball
TV tonight
Do you love it
Do you hate it
There it is
The way you made it

A world of secret hungers
Perverting the men who make your laws
Every desire is hidden away
In a drawer in a desk by a Naugahyde chair
On a rug where they walk and drool
Past the girls in the office

We see in the back
Of the City Hall mind
The dream of a girl about thirteen
Off with her clothes and into a bed
Where she tickles his fancy
All night long

His wile's attending an orchid show
She squealed for a week to get him to go
But back in the bed his teen-age queen
Is rocking and rolling and acting obscene
Baby, baby. ..
Baby, baby. . .
Cimmie then cakes, uh!
If I do I'm gonna lose my...

And he loves it, he loves it
It curls up his toes
She wipes his fat neck
And it lights up his nose
But he cannot be fooled
Old City Hall Fred
She's nasty, she's nasty
She digs it in bed
That's right

Do it again, ha
And do it some more
Hey, that does it, by golly
And she's nasty for sure
Nasty nasty nasty
Nasty nasty nasty
Only thirteen, and she knows how to nasty

She's a dirty young mind, corrupted
Corroded
Well she's thirteen today
And I hear she gets loaded

If she were my daughter, I'd...
What would you do, Frankie?
If she were my daughter, I'd ...
What would you do, Frankie?
Check this out
Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
Smother that girl in chocolate syrup
And strap her on again, oh baby
She's my teen-age baby
She turns me on
I'd like to make her do a nasty
On the White House lawn
Smother my daughter in chocolate syrup
And boogie 'till the cows come home

Time to go home
Madge is on the phone
Got to meet the Gurney's and a dozen gray attorneys
TV dinner by the pool
I'm so glad I finished school
Life is such a ball
I run the world from City Hall


Enjoy!

Friday, June 27, 2008

I Got a Camera!

Now I can put up that sexy profile picture I always wanted. 

The camera purchase was inspired in part by Max getting a digital camera for her fifth birthday; I had been technologically leap-frogged by the next generation.


















Also, I've been working a ton and am basically rich now. See, I built a fence


















and I've been fixing a bank. I keep telling them I need a key to get in after hours and they won't pony up.  I'll let you know when they do - from somewhere far away.

I did get my new camera in time to document my 'special day' on Wednesday.  I was treated to sourdough bread with candy on top. (It made me feel nice and warm inside - with the warmth that can only come from being force fed an entire piƱata)


















and got some presents (mostly wood screws)


















It was pretty bad-ass.

I'm off to build more stuff.  I will return with more photodocumentation.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Dang it. I"m not a quitter. I have to work away from my computer these days and then when I get home my sexy girlfriend wants to hang out and . . . talk about shoes and stuff. Just so everyone knows, I call my mother less than I blog; and I check my email more often than I take a shower. What that says about me, I don't know.

But, anyway. Did you hear that the San Diego City Council just named March 13 (I think) ACLU Day!? Pretty interesting, I think. What is strange is that I have only heard about it from the rightwing blogs. A cursory google search is full of christofascist and wingnut sites balking at the idea that SD would honor the ACLU after the city having to pay legal fees towards cases that the ACLU has been involved with. I didn't search long, but where are the people saying "Wow, cool! San Diego is honoring an entity that supports the U.S. constitution and helps fight for the rights of Americans?" Why does the right get upset about an organization that receives no government funding, and fights tooth and nail for all Americans - regardless of race, sex, religion or national origin - to speak out against oppression by a big government and to exercise free speech? When your local government is preventing you from religious speech or peaceful assembly, who you gonna call?

Whether you are a transgendered Wiccan or a suburban WASP, people who think that your right to make your voice heard are important. Call them crazy liberals if you like - even after defending the MinuteMen and Fred Phelps - but, they will defend your constitutional rights to call them whatever you like. That's what they do.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Lay off, people. I have a life you know.

All three of you guys have yelled at me to post, but I'm busy, so here's something I've been doing in arts and crafts time for you to look at. Enjoy.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Make no mistake about my use of the word "literally"

Today, I literally shit my pants.

David Cross does a great bit about the misuse of "literally" where a guy is talking about laughing so hard "that he literally shit his pants." "What did you do with your pants? - I didn't actually shit my pants. ..." It's pretty damn funny, but it's even funnier when you actually, literally, really shit your pants.

I was meeting my friend for coffee when it went down. Fortunately my apartment is steps away from the coffee shop. I immediately turned around and started walking back to my apartment to get some new pants and started laughing to myself. By the time I was in the bathroom for a quick lower-half shower I was laughing out loud. As I walked back to the coffee shop I was laughing and crying so much that I thought my neighbors would be concerned if they saw me. When I tried to tell my friends what happened it took me about five minutes to be able to speak without uncontrollable laughter prohibiting all of my speech functions. It was awesome.

The funny thing here (and mind you, it's not ironic) is that the cause and effect seem to be reversible. The pants-shitting induces laughter as strongly as laughter allegedly causes pants-shitting.

"Dude, I shat my pants so hard I literally laughed out loud!"

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Funny Hillbilly Kid

You might curse me for making fun of this little hillbilly kid, but I don't care--it's just too funny. I totally appreciate his loss, but the whole conversation together with the music (even the graphics are funny) is so bible belt comedy.

The thing I've never understood is that people claim that God understands their loss because "God gave his son to die on the cross." Jesus was dead for like a day and a half (although he claimed that he would be dead for three days and three nights.) For an infinite being, that doesn't seem like a long enough time to really miss your son, especially when you know that he is going to be alive again before church on Sunday morning. This makes the concept of "substitutionary atonement"--the idea that by Jesus dying, he took the punishment for all of humanity--seem pretty silly as well. Humans are all evil and deserve to burn in Hell for eternity (sorry, that's just the way God made it), but Jesus, by dying (but not really, because he was alive again a couple days later; and, I don't think he spent any time in hell) made up for it all? All of Christianity is based on this idea, yet it doesn't make much sense.