the first modern shopping mall

Here is the link. It's Southdale Shopping Center in Edina! Who'd have thunk?

Via Gizmodo.

it's been a good winter

There's a few things about this winter that I absolutely don't miss, compared to last winter.

Last winter, I lived in St. Paul where parking permits were needed to park anywhere I needed to park except for Target, Cub Foods and work. There were secret places I would park to circumvent that ultimately ended up being not-so-secret places because most of the time they were always filled.

But, the worst words to hear/read/see/think/know were, "Snow Emergency". Bullshit operation...park on the correct side crap. I don't miss it. And I especially don't miss the parking tickets. I sure hope that the $400 dollars I donated to the cause went to something good, because I have a feeling that my money ended up funding their stock of bulk coffee and trips to Krispy Kreme.

The hierarchy of Chex Mix ingredients.

This list goes from least greatest to greatest piece of Chex Mix (storebought...original flavor).

7.Rye Crisps:

Rye Crisps are pretty much the worst thing ever. From their unnecessarily hard composition, to their inability to absorb any of the flavor offered by the spices in the mix. They are little brown objects of hate, and can be easily eliminated from the mix without anybody in the general public missing them.

6. Bread Twists:

Pretty much falls into the same category as the Rye Crisps in terms of absorbing any of the flavor of the spices. I feel like I'm eating the dry turd of the Pillsbury Doughboy when I eat this. This piece can also be eliminated without affecting the rest of the bunch.

5.Bagel Chips:

Only slightly less annoying than the Rye Crisps. It's Spice Absorbability Factor, or SAF, is much greater than the two above, but not what it should be. I seriously think that these three pieces are added into the mix after the spices are added. It's durability when being smashed between my teeth is much less than the Rye Crisps, which is how it attained the number 5 spot.

4. Round Pretzels:

Pretty much a tie between these and the Windowpane Pretzels. I mean...they're preztels. Everybody loves pretzels. The round ones are great because they roll, and you can put them on the ends of your fingers like tasty, tasty rings. Plus, you can use them to play tic-tac-toe with them and the Windowpane Pretzels. The only problem with these, like the pieces above, is that there is no flavor absorption. NONE. They taste like pretzels.

3. Windowpane Pretzels:

Much harder to put on the ends of your fingers, but you can bite the corners off, and use them as the letter X in a game of Chex Mix-tac-toe. And they don't roll.

2. Wheat Chex:

Ahhh...the namesake of the product. It would be a shame if the top pieces of the mix weren't what the mix was named after. It'd be like saying that your favorite piece in the game of Monopoly was the hotel piece (kind of...). The Wheat Chex takes the number 2 spot for many reasons. It's like a miniature pillow of crunchy, hollow goodness. Its design makes for total absorption of 99.97% of the spices, which can leave some pieces almost FILLED with spice (which can be good or bad, depending on your outlook of saltiness). Wheat Chex only lost out to Corn Chex for one reason, which I'll touch upon next.

1. Corn Chex:

Here we are. The number one spot on the lists of lists. An ingredient of a mix of party tradition, dating back to the 1950's, the Corn Chex is a staple of almost every variety of Chex Mix you'll ever have. Its light, crunchiness, backed with its ability to inherit the spice of the mix and make it its own. It's that crunchiness that give it the top spot. It's just light and crunchy enough to be slightly better than the Wheat Chex, which is a little more firm, and harder to chew. I think that if mice were given an option between the two, and they really liked salty spices, they would prefer the Corn Chex over the Wheat Chex.


So, that's it. Corn Chex for the win! Do you agree?

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gift time is fast approaching

and what to do, what to do.

I have shopping to do. It should get done this week.

I have a present to make. That itself is going to be a lesson in tolerance. What's nice is that it has levels of difficulty. I can make it be a hard project, or an easy project. I have to be hush-hush about it, though...who knows who reads this?

I resolve to post more, and I think I should start before the end of the year.

I need to design/refine my superhero/comic. I've had this idea in my head for so long, it's starting to leak out, and I'm afraid that if I don't jump on it and take advantage of my time, that it's going to be a lost cause.

And then I have other ideas. Ideas where I need to sit down with myself and write them down, because they're all in my head.

This morning:

I woke up to my alarms, as usual. On one phone (no phone service set up on it, strictly used for the alarms), I have 3 alarms set up: one at 4:30, one at 5:30 and one at 6:30. They went off perfectly. I use these alarms to gradually wake up. I don't always remember them going off, especially if I'm tired.

My other phone, however, is a different story. It usually plays the first 20 seconds of Edgar Winter's Frankenstein (YouTube)...I love the song, and it's strong and powerful enough to wake even the most soundly sleeping giant. The phone's been glitchy lately, and it hasn't fixed itself, even after a complete recent restoration of the software on it back to factory settings. This morning was evident of that. About 7-8 notes into the song, it decided to freeze up, and proved a 1/2 second loop. Power button doesn't work to turn the phone off, so I have to take the battery out. Of course the battery doesn't easily come out, and I have to pry it out with a knife or the multi-tool on my keychain. 3 minutes later, the problem is solved, and I am completely awake.

I've since fixed the problem with getting the battery out, but that doesn't solve the fact that the phone is a piece of crap.

Anybody got a nice Sprint phone they want to get rid of? Cheap?

Oh...by the way...watch this....this is the new hype:

Because none of my friends would appreciate this...

But goddammit, i wish i was 10 again, because Target is selling an exclusive Sarlacc Pit from Star Wars, complete with Luke, Lando, and an edible Boba Fett (i hear he escaped, though...). There's also a sky skiff. I. WANT. THIS.

no excuses

Other than I've been keeping myself busy, I almost forgot that I had this blog. I mean, isn't that usually how it goes? You start a blog, and you post like a motherfucker in the beginning because you had so much to write about that you had to start a blog so you tell the world.

So you post and post and post. At that point you don't care how many readers you have because you're not writing for them. This is your own personal diary, but it's public because you don't care. You swear, and give out the most intimate details about everything in your life. You write about the syrup you put on your pancakes and Eggo brand waffles. You write about who you had sex with, who you didn't have sex with, and who you want to have sex with. You write about presidental elections and then you write about disappointment.

You tell all.

Then you install a statistic "widget", or tracking code or something because at some point in your blogging career, you get curious as to who is really looking at your blog, and what keywords they're using.

Then you realize that you care about those things. You care that you only had four page views yesterday. You care so much that you register your blog to endless blog registries, and you blatantly shill your website address (www.crushthemall.com) everywhere you go on the internet. You post it as your signature, and put it on your Xbox Live account.

So, you finally get to see how many people are visiting your site. You get excited. Knowing realistically that there aren’t too many people out there who probably know about your site, but you’ve added some blog links to yours, hoping whoever you’ve linked reciprocates. You hope that the shameless plugging you’ve done has garnered some page views. You hope that maybe 100 people read your blog. Not 100 people total…. 100 people a day. So, imagine your surprise to find out that only 1 or 2 people a day visit your blog. Knowing full well, that one of those visits a day is probably you. The other is probably your mom or the government. If you’re lucky, you’ll see a spike in visits, with the numbers reaching 3, or even 4.

Thoughts race through your head. “Am I really writing anything that’s relevant? Do people even care about the random things I do or see?”

Then the blogging depression sets in. You think to yourself, “Why bother blogging? Nobody reads it.”

So you stop writing. And you’ve set up your blog as one of the first pages that you go to during the day, so you constantly remind yourself that you haven’t been writing. Pretty soon you ignore that reminder and then you kind of forget about it for a little bit.

A random amount of time passes. Some things happen. Some things don’t happen. You travel somewhere, you meet someone, you experience something fantastic and you need to tell someone. You’ve already told all of your friends, and your family knows too. Who else to tell but some strangers? You decide to fire up the blogging engine and write some random crap that you think is totally relevant to whatever situation, but completely pointless to the reader. You pour your little heart out, typing all of the biggest, useless words you know. You express yourself openly, including every little detail that won’t get you incriminated in a court of law.

All for what? 4 page views a day.

But you don’t care. You blog because you miss it. You blog because it’s the only diary you’ve ever known. You blog because it’s a way to look back on memories. And every once in a while, someone who knows you, or wants to get to know you, will read your blog, and finally learn that one piece of information they can one day use as blackmail.

And it’s all your fault.

history

I'm probably going to cry tonight. I'm either going to cry because we voted for the right presidental candidate, or I'm going to cry because I'll be forced to leave the country.


Ok...not forced, but I'm not going to want to live here anymore.

The Game of the Name

I get a few weird looks from people when they see "crushthemall". I'd say the majority of looks are looks of confusion.

"Is it crush them all, or crush the mall?"

I reply, "Yes."

When I first came up with the name, I was inspired by what is now one of the oldest Firefox extensions I use, DownloadThemAll. I always read it as something that downloads all of something, but I also had it in the back of my mind that it was also something that downloaded the mall, and it always made me smile and think to myself, "Why would someone want to download a mall? Ridiculous, if you ask me."

So, circa fall 2006, a little after the release of the Xbox 360, I decided that I needed a new moniker for my online exploits on their Xbox Live platform. I hadn't played on Xbox Live for a long time, and my last handle for that was "Pep-X", which was short for Peppermint Extract; the highly flammable, highly minty, all-purpose flavoring agent that we used while making minty shakes and malts at TGI Friday's. It was the focus of my attention waaay back in 2002, when Xbox Live first launched. I decided it would be a cool name, until it was found out that:

 A) it looked like POP-X on the tv screen, so people were calling me that all the time
and B) I barely played Xbox Live games, so that fell to the wayside.

Fast forward back to 2006 and my new name choosing scheme. I ran some potential names past my roommate. I'm sure they were ridiculous, like "Capt. Coolguy" or "TheKiller8833". I included "crushthemall" as an option and he said that out of the bunch, that one was the coolest. I agreed, and crushthemall was born.

If someone asked me the definition of the name, I'd have to tell them that it's the two following things: it looks super awesome when I kill someone in a video game, and it says, "crushthemall has beaten you" (unfortunately, that never happens very much), AND, I'm not a super huge fan of shopping malls (especially those outdoor plaza-type malls where you have to walk outside to get to any of the stores you want to go to. What kind of bullshit is that? It's friggin' Minnesota. The busiest shopping season of the year is in the wintertime. I know...let's make everybody walk outside to shop. Asshole mall planners.

Since then, I've registered a website, started a blog, created tens of online accounts with the name crushthemall and it's pretty much the new name of the day for me. I like the ambiguousness of it and what it implies.

Can't wait for the next alter ego.

nut-buttery goodness...

Did someone say peanut-butter machine?

 

To quote Linda Richmond, this this is "like buttah!"

Holy crap. I want one. It's only $50, plus shipping and handling. And it's from one of my all-time favorite catalogs I loved reading as a kid (true story), the Lighter Side Catalog. That, along with the Johnson-Smith Co. catalogs always had the craziest shit in them. I always thought that they were related to each other, somehow, and by visiting the Johnson Smith Co. website, it was pretty much confirmed.

Lovely reader(s)....feel free to buy me one! I will make you all the crazy peanut butter you desire!!!!

posting!

yup...that's right, true believers! Another fine edition of "Let's post once a week or so!".

This week's edition will have such stories as:

"I'm getting internet this week! The only problem is that I'm not going to be there for the setup, and I have a feeling that my roommate is going to get taken for a ride."

and

"I don't hate my job, I just hate everything else."

Also, look for an editorial from my darker side, pointing out the finer aspects of road rage, and over-cooking Spaghetti-o's.

Today's short story is entitled, "I didn't get a lick of quality sleep last night, and I'm pretty ticked about it."

I didn't get a lick of quality sleep last night, and I'm pretty ticked about it.



What's really funny, is that I'm so lazy that I didn't even want to lift my hand from the keyboard to select the text so I could copy and paste it again. How bad is that? Right now I'm debating whether re-typing it was being lazy, or if copy/pasting would have been lazier.

Brilliant.

remember when I used to blog?

It's been so long. The newest excuse is: I don't have internet access. Plain and simple. I mean, I have pseudo-access through my phone, but it's mediocre at best, and my battery gets all drained to shit when I use it with internet, so I try to keep it at a minimum.

Tonight, though, the computer gets transported from old place to new place. I don't really have a place to put it, but I'll figure it out. Can't be any worse than my old roommate putting his tower on the floor, the monitor on top of that, and sitting on a pillow in the living room, next to the couch. Worst desk ever.

I went to Fallcon '08 on Saturday, and was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Caroline came with, and my brother showed up, too. The $10 admission ($11-$1 for a canned food donation. Caroline supplied re-fried beans...I'm sure the kiddies will be thrilled)
for 2 hours spent there was WELL worth it. I saw Ghostbusters, Spider-Men, Superman/Superwoman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Thor, Wonder Woman (va-va-voom!) Elasti-girl, the original Batmobile, the Bat-Cycle (complete with Robin's sidecar, WITH the go-kart accessory...brilliant!), and a slew of other things. My friend, Dan, of bewilderedkid.com had a table there and was selling his wares. He was also sporting the best handlebar horseshoe moustache I've seen since the 70's.

All in all it was a really good time. I'm so glad I went. And I wasn't even looking for anything in particular. I just wanted to go.

The worst thing about the con? No camera. Seriously, my freshly re-charged batteries...not fresh...not recharged. Soooooo upset.

edit: It's horseshoe, not handlebar. Poster is a big dummy.

Fallcon!

I'm going to my first comic book convention next weekend. I'm pretty excited for this.

My hopes:

-Spandex-clad women
-Awesome superhero costumes
-Hand-shaking and signatures from industry giants

My expectations:

-Spandex-clad men
-cardboard versions of my favorite heroes
-30-40 different versions of Iron Man costumes
-very smelly people (we can sense our own kind)
-industry midgets

I'm sure it will be a good time.

MCBA FALLCON COMIC BOOK CELEBRATION
October 4 & 5, 2008 - 10AM to 5PM Both Days!
Minnesota State Fairgrounds - In the Grandstand!
1265 Snelling Avenue - Saint Paul, MN 55108
20th ANNIVERSARY 1989-2008

Admission is just $11.00 per adult. Good for both days! Children 9 & under are FREE!

really?

I opened up the blogger webpage, hoping I'd be inspired to write something of relevance. Nothing popped for 30 minutes, so I decided to close the window.

As soon as I close it, I overhear my co-worker talking to another about "how radioactive cell phones really are. Watch this video. They pop popcorn with 4 cell phones."

Man...I know I'm on the internet 23-6, and I try to keep up with all of the relevant viral videos and bullshit phenomina, but really? You're watching these videos for the first time now? Maybe you should stop watching TV and start downloading the internet more.

The popcorn scam is almost a year old, if it isn't already.

All I'm saying is, hit up Snopes before you involve everybody in the office, and get everybody chattering about something that isn't even real. This place is starting to feel like church at times.

under the bridge

Hm. Sounds like a bridge has been opened. I wouldn't know it because my commute isn't affected by it one bit. I'd be interested to see what my drive home is like, being that I usually take 280 from University Ave. to 35W, but I won't even find that out until next week.

I never saw the bridge in person. I never saw the damage that happened. I was curious, but I don't think I'm one of those "needs to see it" kinds of people. I hate gawker slow-downs while driving for the same reason. It's an accident. Leave the poor people alone.


boat trip

I was on a paddleboat on the St. Croix last night for work. It wasn't a bad time at all. I got a fist bump for being a member of the singles club, had a few drinks, ate some good food, got a little drunk with my co-workers on a Wednesday night...who could really ask for anything more? I mean...for a Wednesday, that is. In a perfect world, this would have been on a weekend, a hotel room would have been gotten, and much drinking would ensue. But beggars can't be choosers, can they?

bless me father, for I have sinned

it has been 31 years since my last confession.

I...um...accidentally watched some of Mike Meyers' The Love Guru. I'm so sorry for this. I'll do whatever it takes to appease the gods and win the respect of anybody who reads this.

On a completely related note:

Shame on the following people for being in the movie.

Shame on Val Kilmer. Shame on Jessica Simpson. Shame on Jessica Alba's boobies. Shame on Verne Troyer. Shame on Justin Timberlake. Shame on Sir Ben Kingsley. And most of all, shame on you Mike Meyers. You should know better. Quit while you're ahead.

I only watched 20 minutes of this movie, and I couldn't get any further.

what day is it today?

Oh that's right...the other, OTHER day that went down in infamy. I look forward to the constant reminders I'll hear. It's bad enough that people are still conspiracy theoring about it, but to have it mentioned every other minute...no thanks.

And then I realize that even by writing about it is a reminder. This is true, but it's also a declaration that people just need to let go.

It's like talking about the high score you got in Pac-Man in 1982. Sure it's pretty impressive and important at the time, but after a while of constantly hearing about it, the shit gets old.

It's like seeing John Kerry bumper stickers, or "WELLSTONE!" bumper stickers. I think they still sell both of them. I understand that there's a concept behind the dedication, but man...that shit is the past. Think about what's ahead.

where nobody knows my name

I'm not complaining, by any means, but I don't think people like using my name.

One of the guys I work with either calls me "Round Head", "wingnut", "G-off", "Fuzz Nuts" or some other nickname.

Almost everybody I've worked with at TGI Friday's pretty much called me Geo, or G-off. A select few would even call me, "G".

Pet names don't really count, but I had an ex who called me Monkey.

My soon-to-be-married friends, Andy and Megan, call me Pablum Geoff. Good story behind that one.

Hell, even my dad calls me Julio. It's such an old nickname, I can't remember why or how it came about.


It was funny. I met my roommate's uncle last night.
She says, "This is my friend, Geo."
"Eh?" the uncle goes, confusedly.
"Geoff," I say.
"Oh! Well, how are ya?"
It made me smile.

I did, at one point in my life, literally wish to be called some kind of cool nickname.

I think that wish came through. Tenfold.

blogging to get some

I think I might have a new goal for blogging.

To get some.

Some what?

..at this point, I'll take anything. But money and sex are right at the top of this list. Power, recognition, popularity, free stuff and stalkers are pretty darn close to the top, also.

office scams

if there's one thing I've noticed, it's that by working in an office, you eventually will become familiar with office scams. These are the workplace equivalent of the 419 Nigerian Scams. Basically a company calls you up, saying that they're the supplier of the toner for your copier, and that they need the model of the copier for whatever reason.

Well, there's a few ways to deal with these asshole liars.

1. You can commit to what they're selling, and get ripped off. BAD IDEA.

2. You can hang up on them. LAME.

3. You can fuck right back with them, and make their jobs so much more exciting than what they had planned on.


The girls in the office like to choose option 3 100% of the time.

The most recent ploy was as follows:

Sheryl takes the call, and immediately figures out that the fake copier people are calling, and puts them on hold for a second, to talk to Julie. Sheryl asks Julie what her name should be. In this case, Julie picks "Twyla". Sheryl pops back on the line saying that "Twyla" will be right with them.

In the meantime, the call gets put on speaker and Sheryl and "Twyla" proceed to argue to each other as to whose responsibility it is to take care of the toner. They argue until the caller hangs up. I think this was record time. Less than a minute.

Needless to say, it's funny to overhear, and even funnier to see the girls hootin' and hollerin' over their latest scam-scam.

movie locations

When I was in Chicago earlier this year, I wish I'd come here, but I'm glad I didn't. But the record store John Cusack's character owned in High Fidelity, looks like it's boarded up and graffiti'd, circa whenever GoogleCorp drove their surveillance vehicles through that neighborhood.


View Larger Map

I mean, yeah it's sad, but it's Chicago. They'll do whatever the fuck they like. Movies are always temporary to cities like that. They'll never commemorate the fact that a good chunk of a great movie was filmed there.

There's no Filming Location Preservation Society (FLPS). People driving by most likely just look at that corner property and go, "Hrmph...there's that old 7-11 I used to go to as a kid. Now it's nothing."

That is, if they even actually care.

All I know is that whenever I drive past the place that used to be the cafe where Marissa Tomei worked in Untamed Heart, I shed an invisible, misty tear. It's a good thing I don't drive past it often.

View Larger Map

Labor Day Weekend!

Enjoy it!

I miss my blog

It seems I get more readers when I don't write than when I do. It's weird.

I'm still waiting for that light at the end of the tunnel where it finally doesn't seem all that bad. I'm not depressed or feel like I'm in a hole or anything. It's more like the carrot dangling in front of the donkey, and I'm the ass. Well one day, I'm going to figure out that sitting down is going to get me that carrot. After that, I'll be one happy burro. (I don't know...is burro/ass/donkey the same thing?)

I really can't wait to get home tonight. I get to paint my new room. Well, ok...I get to "prime" it first, and then probably paint tomorrow, because hey, what's more fun to do on a Friday night than paint? Ok, there's 3 bars within walking distance, and I need to "prime" my stomach for a bachelor party on Saturday night, too, so I'll see if my roommate is up for shots and tall beers.

The bachelor party should be a good time. It's starting off with horse racing, but I'm not so into the whole gambling scene, so I'm skipping out on that, but meeting up with everybody at 7:30 at Rudolph's. Should be a good time. I've never eaten there. I've only had their famous cole slaw dressing from the grocery store, and lemme tell you, I might just get a plate of that and deal with the CS farts later.

The night will end at the Vegas Lounge in NE Minneapolis. From what it looks like, if you want to get your karaoke on with a cold PBR and Grandma Betty, this is the place. We'll see. I'll wear my Saturday night best and aim to please.

Can't wait for Saturday, lemme tell ya.

worst blogger ever

So much has happened in the past month, it's hard to want to sum it all up. I've been really sad/upset/confused/angry lately that it make me not want to write about it and just keep it all inside.

So, a basic summary. My dog was put to sleep, I went to Six Flags and Chicago, I joined the ranks of the dating crowd, I saw dragsters and funny cars, I set foot in a lake for the first time in 20 years, camped, decided to move into a house in Anoka...

And that's not even including the filler. Hopefully I'll get an opportunity to sit down and write some more, and do it on a regular basis. I'm setting goals, and doing whatever I can to achieve them.

This is going to be good.

Hurts my friggin eyes to watch this:

talking 'bout my, my va-ca-shun

Saturday, 7/12/08
Woke up at 6:30 to get the oil changed in C's car. Drive to the Edina Toyota, arrive at 7:30. Oil changed by 8:30, grab breakfast at Perkins, then leave for Chicago. Oh wait, gotta drop some paperwork off at C's work in Minneapolis. Not a problem, we'll just cruise on up 35w and...SHIT...it's closed. How about we hit up Cedar. Just a hop skip and a jump away....aw shit...there's a triathlon running all across Uptown and South Minneapolis. We finally get out of town around 10:30. Still not bad.

Saturday night we arrived in Chicago. We stayed at the Silversmith Hotel, which was way more luxe than I'm used to or really care for, but it was pretty nice. Walked around town. Hit up Milennium Park again, walked to Buckingham Fountain, and back to the hotel. and ended up at Navy Pier. At the pier, I saw the most fantastic fireworks display I think I'd ever seen. And some crazy trapeeze artists ringing bells and doing stunts. Crazy. End of the night.

Sunday 7/13/08.
At midnight, I got a little older, and that was ok. We woke up the next day and decided to go to the Art Inisitute of Chicago. We saw priceless works of art, and I got to see American Gothic:

 American Gothic by Grant Wood

And Nighthawks:

 

Nighthawks by Edward Hopper

Two of my favorite paintings. I also learned that the woman standing next to the man in American Gothic is NOT his wife, but his unwed daughter. You can tell she's unwed because she's UGLY.

More to come...

future zombie

We got a fella here at work who is pretty much on his way to zombie-dom. He's already showing signs of becoming one, including the glassy eyes, a penchant for brains, and most of all, the awkward, stumbling walk, as seen in many of George Romero's "... of the Dead" flicks.

I'm thinking about wearing a helmet to protect my cranium from any attacks. As stumbly as he is, he's pretty quiet on the feet. The sucker could sneak up on me, and I wouldn't even know it.

Can't read? Click here!

I'm trying to send my Portable Firefox 3 from my home computer to my work computer. I didn't want to do this until the final version of FF3 came out, which it did in the last 24 hours. I decided that an online file sharing service would be the best option, since most web email providers have a size limit on their files, and the zip of my Portable FF3 is roughtly 90Mb.

I decided to choose my method based on having to register for the service or not. I just want to quickly upload the *.zip file, and then download it here at work. That's it. I don't want to register, verify my email address, wait for a beta invite or anything. Upload, then download. U/l or d/l speed didn't matter...the only thing I needed was a service that provided sending and receiving of files bigger than 90Mb.

I selected GigaSize.com to do the dirty work. No registration at all...just upload up to 300Mb, and download with the link they provide after the file is uploaded. I didn't care how long the file was to remain on their servers or anything since I was going to get the file almost immediately after downloading it.

The process went painlessly, and I now have the file. The only funny thing I noticed was this:



"Can't read?" Well...if I can't read it, how am I supposed to know that I'm supposed to click it? And even then...why am I on the internet at all, unless I'm on Hobo Internet, and there's nothing but Hobo Signs showing where it's safe to sleep.

Ok. I understand that the "Can't read?" is referring to the CAPTCHA right above it, but I think it could be a little more descriptive.

root beer smell

The morning commute has become more trying these past few weeks. It's construction season, and the two most straightforward routes I can take into work (Snelling Ave. and Hwy 280 from 35W N) are both being constructed on. I've personally hated 280 from the beginning so I ended up taking Snelling in for the past 2 months, and it's been a fairly smooth ride.

But this damn construction is really testing my mettle. And then...I brought a can of root beer to consume today. As I was driving this morning, all of a sudden there was an abrupt stop. The can rolled off the seat, and I didn’t think anything of it. 5 seconds later, I smell root beer, and I look down, and my can has a puncture wound in it, and it’s spraying all over the floor. Long story short, I had an extra shirt in the truck that had to serve as the sponge for my floor, and I lost a can of pop as a casualty of war. Kind of upset about that, but oh well…what can ya do?

sorry for not posting

I've been going to bed at like 8:30 at night, and I've just been busy at work.

Although this is no excuse, it's the best I've got right now.




I lied about this being the best excuse. Imagine if you will...butt probe aliens.

'nuff said.

to the baby bird I buried this morning

I left Caroline's this morning, and walked towards my truck. On the way there, I stepped over you. Featherless and motionless. I ignored you for two seconds, but I stopped and thought about you for a second. I didn't want you to be stepped on, and I knew you would. In a nearby flower pot, I dug a hole for your body to be placed in. I picked up your cold, lifeless body, placed you in the hole and covered you up. I looked around to see where you came from, but I didn't see any nests. I figured you came from one of the many nook-and-cranny nests that surround that building.

I feel bad that you never got to experience life, but I also realized, that is life. Things don't always work out they way everybody wants it to.

I'm sorry you had to die. I thought burying you was the best decision.

seriously

Could this day drag on any longer? I've got stomach acid crawling up my throat like Mario crawling up a vine that appeared after he hit his head on a brick block.

On the bright side, I'm enjoying a tasty Mountain Dew Voltage that tastes like DEW Charged With Raspberry Citrus Flavor and Ginseng.



It's got good flavor, and of the two flavors that I've tried, I like this one better.

those lazy, crazy, hazy days of summer

I don't know if I've even been this lazy. I guess it doesn't totally feel like lazy, more like unmotivated to write anything.

To my one reader out there, I apologize. I know that there's nothing better than reading about my exploits on a fairly daily basis, and how it all boils down, you're right. I try to write, but sometimes it's difficult to get the time, since I do most of my writing when I'm not supposed to. Whoops.

I hope you all had a fantastic weekend.

I watched two movies on the big screen this past weekend. Here are my reviews, in haiku form:

Indiana Jones and the Bifocals of Destiny:

Boy, Indy. You're old.
How long has it been? That long?
Oh. That explains it.

Speed Racer:

Something to ponder:
Is the chimp is his brother?
Go, Speed Racer, Go!


Basically, both of the movies were fun. The chimp in Speed Racer and Shia LeBouph could have traded roles and made BOTH films better, but I'm really not complaining. I was slightly disappointed by Indiana Jones (but come on...who didn't see disappointment coming?), and quite impressed with Speed Racer. And with a summer full of blockbuster fanboy releases, they were both a good lead in to 2 more months of entertainment. I can't wait.

a week

that's how long it's been since I last posted. I've been so tired and busy and internetless and about a billion other excuses.

The past three nights, I've wanted to go to bed at 10pm, although last night I wasn't able to do so until midnight. That hurts. I feel exhausted right now.

I was fed genetically engineered water this morning, and was told that it balances the acids in your body almost immediately. I'm as big a skeptic as they come, but I love humoring people. I was asked to try and touch my toes before taking the water. I got to about an inch from my toes. Then after taking a literal sip of water, and waiting 20 seconds, I was asked to try again. I touched my toes. WOW! It works!

Common sense tells me however that water DOES balance the acid because most water has a pH level of 0. As far as being instant, well sure...it'll change the acidity of your stomach acid, but not change your ability to stretch. That's snake oil, man....snake oil.

who would do this. really?

http://minneapolis.craigslist.org/apa/681689434.html

What woman in their right mind would participate in something like this? I mean, don't get me wrong...this sounds like a fantastic deal, but really...get your rocks off like any other normal pervert, you freak.

stomach ache

I hate fast food.

suck e. cheese

It was my nephew's 7th (!) birthday on Mother's day, so his mom invited her favorite brother-in-law to the party at everybody's favorite: Chuck E. Cheese's!

Now, I grew up going to about 5 CEC parties a year when I was a kid. There were ball pits, skee ball games, ticket prizes, countless fun video games, party rooms, pizza, pop, beer and animatronic anthropomorphic performing animals. The room where the animals performed were dimly lit, and the shows were entertaining. Sure the animals weren't realistic, but how can you be when you only have 6 points of articulation, and 4 of them are in your head?

But goddammit, when I was a kid, this shit was FUN.

Fast forward 20 some-odd years later, and let me paint a picture for you.

First thing I notice is the place is bright as a strobe light showroom. Neon everywhere. Next thing, is this place is two levels. Upstairs and downstairs. Design flaw in my opinion. Sure there's an elevator, but there's kids running everywhere, and the stairwell is not the widest thing in the world.

DOWNSTAIRS

Downstairs has the eating/stage area. Tiny. Very bright, and you could barely hear the sound coming over the overhead speakers for the canned television CEC channel, which loops every 30 minutes or so some very uninspiring CEC themed skits and music videos.

The front stage was very tiny, with some kid controlled video cameras and a little mini stage with a non-working blue screen that the kids could perform in front of. Animatronic animals? One. Mr. Cheese himself from the waist up. Close enough to the edge that kids were all over him, sticking their fingers in his mouth while he performed. If this shit was real, he would NOT go for that. At all. The only really entertaining aspect of the dining/stage area were the television show themed posters which all had a disclaimer stating that these were parody posters. The first poster spoofed Seinfeld as "Cheesefeld", and had a picture of Chuck dressed as Jerry. The second was The C Files in homage to The X files. The last was a spoof on ER. Instead it was called ERrr. I didn't get it. And it had a surprisingly buff looking Chuck E. Cheese dressed in a white lab coat.

The rest of the stuff downstairs was mostly kiddie rides and video games. Nothing spectacular.

UPSTAIRS

Upstairs is strictly video games and ticket games. Lots of light-gun shooting games, racing games, skee ball, little "rides" and seating. All in all, totally uninspiring. There were about 3 games that looked interesting or fun, and that's just not enough. The arcade is dead. Long live the arcade.

THE EXPERIENCE

It was painful. I showed up early. Waited for 20 minutes. Apparently, showing up early is not as important anymore to anybody else except for me.
My brother and dad show up, and we all sit up front waiting for the rest of the gang. The kid working the front door (job? I think he was the gatekeeper. I didn't see the keymaster anywhere.) spent most of the time up front wearing plastic glasses with a big nose and a black moustache and checking his height on the "I think the criminal was 'this tall'" sticker on the door. My sister in law showed up with my nephews and my oldest nephew's friend. Good. The attendance is getting better.

I told myself that the only redeeming thing would be for some hot mom to be there and at least give me someone to stare at. Everybody who was invited showed up, including some hot moms. My joy turned into disappointment because kids were just dropped off. This is bad for me.

Ten seven-year-olds running around and having a good time. This was fun to watch. Little kids bragging about how many tickets they won and everything.

Pizza shows up and we eat. The pizza was sub-par, and no amount of crushed red pepper and Parmesan cheese could save it.

Let me tell you, though. This kid SCORED present-wise. Holy crap. Toys galore. Good for him. His uncle only got him a gift card, but that's like gold to a kid who wants anything and everything. GOLD I tell ya.

It came time to leave, and I was glad to go. Hot moms came back to pick their kids up and that was good again, but quickly turned to bad. I'm not going to say that I didn't have a good time, but I did find myself checking the time quite frequently near the end of the party.

So, to sum it all up: lame pizza + sub-standard entertainment + 2 levels of ho-hum + a rat with Bell's Palsy = happy little kids.

I guess it really isn't all that bad.

In researching the links for this post, I did come across an interesting word. Exonumia is the study of coin-like objects such as token coins and medals, and other items used in place of legal currency or for commemoration. My favorite line in the wikipedia entry for this is:

"The words exonumist and exonumia were coined in July 1960 by Russell Rulau, a recognized authority and author on the subject, and accepted by Webster's dictionary in 1965."

Do you think they intentionally said that the terms were coined in July 1960? Because that would be funny.

dumb stimulus package

What the smart government should have done was base the schedule for payments on the promptness of when people filed. I know it's just easier to do it in numerical order, but some of us who fall into the latter end of the social security numbering scheme (me...98) want our goddamn money and we want it now. I've got habits to uphold, people! And I filed fairly early.

The bastards.

Super Thursday!

I had a great day, yesterday. The workday went by fairly quickly, which is always a bonus. My friend, Lance, invited me out to an early screening of "Ashton Kutcher screams, and is funny" or what everybody else calls it, "What Happens in Vegas....".

Now, I usually jump on early screenings of everything if I can help it. The ones that happen during the week are an issue, but I'll skip work to see shit like Spider-Man. But I had to politely decline the invite because I already had a super Thursday planned with Caroline.

I leave work at 4:30 and speed down 94, 35W South, and hit the crosstown to Southdale Mall. I meet her at the AMC theater there, which she says I've been there before, and I tell her, "Nope...never have."

We're there to see Iron Man. As we're getting our concessions, one of the girls behind the counter noticed my "potato shocked by seeing french fries" t-shirt (I should really scan it in. I can't find an image of it on the internets, and I got it from goodwill) and said something about how cute it was. Then she asked if I was seeing Iron Man (do I look that nerdy? Awesome!). If I was, I should make sure that I waited until the end credits (which I already knew about. I *do* have the internet). A girl after my own heart. Too bad she was a solid decade younger than I was and working at a movie theater, coated in more popcorn oil than I care for my women to normally be.

The movie: Fantastic. So much more true to the comic book than a lot of the superhero movies out there. I wish they played up the alcoholism a little more, but they did a good job establishing Tony Stark's fondness for the booze. Good chemistry between the characters, although I wasn't entirely buying the whole Rhodey/Stark relationship. It just didn't seem 100%. More like 80%. All in all, I'd totally recommend it to anybody who likes comic book movies, or who has an affinity for geeky science and gadgets.

Then the movie ended, we zipped quickly to Chipotle because Caroline was about to pee her pants. We gorged on burritos, then we headed back to her place to watch ABC's LOST.

No review, but I do love that show.

helpful

Lately I've been helpful. This isn't entirely self-diagnosed. I helped Liz carry this GIGANTICALLY heavy-assed T.V. up to her apartment. My friend Andy needed support the other day. My brother is moving and has an entire house to move in the span of a month (technically his lease for his current house is up in September, but his words were, "Fuck it.").

I feel particularly better, karma-wise.

what's YOUR demographic

Diet Coke just wished me a happy Mother's Day.

Or they were saying, "you look like a chick, and you're fat."

Or they were saying, "you look like a 60 year old woman who has had 3 kids, needs to go on a diet, and is probably going to get her only 'Happy Mother's Day' greeting in a mass emailing from a company that doesn't care to discern their male audience from their female, mother audience."

friend indeed?

Last night I was planning on meeting up with some people to play bar bingo at Baggan's Pub, formerly Sharx Sports Bar and Nightclub, winner of CityPages "BEST STRIP CLUB (MALE DANCERS) of 2000" on East River Road in Fridley. I have never been to Baggan's at all, I'd been to Sharx, but after it was Sharx and before it was Baggans. I've never played bar bingo before.

Needless to say, I was kind of looking forward to this.

It never happened. I ended up being a friend in need, therefore being a friend indeed, for my buddy Andy, the comedian.

After one beer, a good burger, a long talk about relationships, Martin Short, and countless other things talked about, Andy got his drunk on, I drove him home, and hopefully I helped out a little.

hate spoilers

I hate myself for needing to know the storyline and secrets. I ruin it for myself.

With NBC's Heroes, I could never get enough information. I played their little ARG, participated in all the viral marketing I could to find out all of the information I could possibly find.

Then there's LOST. Hoo, boy....don't get me started. Really. I did everything with LOST that I did for Heroes, but like....times ten. There was a fantastic ARG during Season 2 that I didn't entirely participate in, but I followed on a very regular basis. And you can find me every Friday, going through countless sites trying to find out next week's storyline.

But, what I hate worse than finding out things I want to know, are things I don't want to know. When people post spoilers to things that are better appreciated when they aren't previously unknown. This is the reason I stay until after the credits roll. Ferris Bueller's Day Off and X-Men United (lamest name for a movie ever) are two great examples. One movie provides humor, the other, hope for a sequel.

NOW...when a movie less than a week old, DO NOT POST SPOILER INFORMATION, Mike Krumboltz, you asshole. Now, I'm not going to post the link that I read, or even reveal the subject I was reading about. But what was revealed shouldn't have been because I wanted to see it for myself.

All you needed to say was, "Go see the movie, and stay until the credits are finished." Instead, you blew your load in one tug, you pre-ejaculating, spoiler fuck.

There's gotta be a spoiler rule.

attention to detail

I bought Grand Theft Auto 4 yesterday, and I'm happy, as usual, with my purchase. It's games like this that continue to amaze me. The game world itself is HUGE. HUGE, I tell you. But it's not the size that matters....it's the detail. There's roads in the game. But they just aren't paved roads, they're roads with litter that blows around. Visit your brother, Roman, who's hiding in a dumpster, and when you talk to him, notice the flies that are buzzing about. Run over countless lightposts, and watch the sparks fly out.

It's little nods and homages to things that I really appreciate in video games, as well as movies.

With Marvel Studios finally taking control of it's properties, instead of optioning them out, a la Spider-Man to Sony, we can finally see movies starring the Avengers, instead of it's members. I just read about the first baby steps to something like this happening with a cameo appearance by Robert Downey, Jr. in the new Hulk movie. A little birdie also told me that Wolverine might make an appearance near the end of the movie.

And that's my biggest beef with comic book movies. With the exception of the X-Men movies, when did you hear even the slightest mention of another hero in such a movie. Oh yeah, that's right, Aunt May mentioned Superman in the first Spider-Man flick. This shouldn't have ever happened, and is the worst part of that movie.

In a world where all I want is a mentioning of another hero in a movie, or a glance at a newspaper headline in a Spider-Man movie saying something about Thor, or whatever....I finally might get what I want.

the future

The future is uncertain. I've got so many ideas in my head that it's hard to focus on one at a time. I'll stumbleupon a site or two that seem to offer suggestions for maintaining ideas or getting things done, but I never really take that advice to heart. It's hard to follow instructions that seem to go against what I'm all about.

For instance, I want to design another t-shirt, but since I've moved, everything needed is strewn about multiple boxes. It's hard to get things done when you don't know where everything is.

Another thing is that I want to get to drawing a comic strip with original characters. I have a great origin story for him, and a general idea on how I want him to look, but I feel like I'm 'borrowing' too much from existing sources. Sure, I'm changing things up a little, but it might be straying too far from homage, and leaning towards, "your mother's a tracer!"

twitter and followers

I guess I will never fully understand Twitter. It's an interesting service, but I never really understood it's purpose other than to let people know what you're doing right at that time. And even then, people have to pretty much subscribe to your Twitter feed.

That being said, since I've registered this blog with 4-5 some odd blog registry sites, I've been getting 2-3 people (probably robots...whatever) following me on Twitter. To me, this is odd.

Of course, when click on their profile, they're following 10-20,000 people. As I look at it, however, that's not a lot of people. It does encourage me to Twitter a little more. I was Twittering once every 90 days, literally.

Who knows...maybe I'll benefit from letting people know what I'm doing.

Top 3 Halo Games (in no particular order)

1. Halo 2

2. Halo 3

3. Halo: Combat Evolved

rssHugger

I've decided to try and get some kind of promotion out for this blog. I demand more readers. More readers=more posts. More posts=more things to read. More things to read=more funny.

My first attempt is rssHugger.

It's pretty easy. Join their site, register your blog with their service, then you can write a post promoting the site (which is what I'm doing.) or pay a fee (which is what the rich and lazy do, I imagine).

We'll see if rssHugger works. I don't want to have to turn it into rssDumper.

Phun!

Phun is a 2D physics sandbox that allows the user to play and create to their imagination's content.

It has a YouTube group filled with some pretty decent creations like the Master Chief Warthog Loop, and my current favorite, Baby's Got Problems (shown below), complete with slow motion suspense:

masturbation, the cancer killer

According to an Australian study, men who ejaculated more than five times a week were a third less likely to develop prostate cancer later in life.

I'm trying to find a way to work that into preventing other kinds of cancer. Right now I'm at "excessive" masturbation.

granny photoset

I love this collection of photos. This would have been fun to sit in on, hear about or even imagine.

beauty in the Dark Ages

Last week my friend and I were talking to someone about standards of beauty in the Dark Ages. We were really shocked by that stuff, so we asked my friend Beth about it, and she screamed:

"No kidding?!.. Wow! I am so sick of hearing about the Dark Ages all the time!"

But then when my friend and I got to the part about the standards of beauty, Beth quieted down and began picking her nose. Then this morning, Beth's niece told me that the reason Beth was so freaked out was because she was watching about standards of beauty on TV. Sometimes Beth can be a little cool like that, but I have to live with that...

Link of the day: Joke Ratings | Randomly generated by Flooble Instant Blog Post Generator

T.Hanks

You're W.Elcome.

this might be my favorite comic

I have to be careful where and when I read it. I get teary-eyed whenever I do.

It conveys the best message ever, and makes me think every time I read it:

Enjoy.

dolphin bubble rings

I can't get over how amazing this is, and how playful the dolphin is with the rings. I love it.

losing my lid

I'm moving up to Andover. So, in one of many stages of the "movement", I brought all my board games there. They were in the back of my truck. As I’m going down 280, sure as shit, I see CRANIUM fly out of the box. I’m like…FUCK MY ASS. I can’t believe the entire goddamn game blew out of the back of my truck. I saw people swerve to get out of its way and everything. Whoops.

I pull off at the exit past energy park drive and inspect my losses. Well, only the cover blew off, and it was the cover to the non special edition, so…not a huge loss. After I saw that it was just the cover, I was a little better.

I rearranged my belongings to prevent future unauthorized flights and drove off again. We all made it home safe and sound.

I think it landed open side down. It's probably thinking to itself, "Man, this is awesome. Hopefully someone will stop to pick me up thinking I'm the entire game. When they finally grab me, BAM! They'll realize that I'm not the real game. Haha."

I was going to write something else after the "BAM", but I chose not to.

rrr wwwww

Have you ever thought about why we call them the 5 W’s, even though one starts with an “H” (I get the logic, but still).

That, and have you ever thought that of the Three R’s we were taught in school, only one starts with an “R”? I guess the

WTF? No wonder other countries are smarter than we are.

Pirates should be the only ones who are allowed to use three "arr's", in my opinion.

wow!

I had 5 visits to this site yesterday! Although this doesn't even come close to the most hits in one day (6), this is still monumental. I'm curious as to why, but I'm not going to argue.

That being said, I did notice that someone came to my site using the keywords "camel toe youngsters". Granted, I did have a post referring to "Camel Toads"...but I don't know where the youngsters came from. I swear.

I'm gonna change professions

This one seems to pay better than what I'm making now. And I can meet so many interesting people.

Dog + Computer

Ok. Maybe I want this dog. If only to try and kick it over a bunch of times:

Dog vs. Computer

I don't know if I want the dog, or the machine, or both. I think one compliments the other:

Beware the Camel Toads

This kind of stuff writes itself.

Death Loves Nickelodeon

He does.

Disney: scarring the minds of youngsters FOREVER

Disney on Ice, more specifically. Seriously...I can buy "Peter Pan on Ice", "The Incredibles on Ice"( Frozone, Anybody?) and even "High School Musical on Ice", but Walt Disney must be spinning in his cryogenic chamber right now. (haha...Walt On Ice)

That's right. "Finding Nemo on Ice". Now, I'm not balking at how ridiculous the concept is. (Fish on skates?) My worries stem from my first and ONLY impression of the show that I've seen in the commercials shown:

The eyes on some of the costumes look like boobs.

Trust me:

Pictured above are Dorry and Nemo, with crazy leg fins outstretched, and strangely weird, nightmare inducing eye boobs.

EYE BOOBS!

And if that's not frightening enough, it looks like some of Dorry's friends have fishface torsos:This has gotta stop, Disney. If I see friggin "Cars on Ice", I'm gonna flip.

How to get your Facebook account deleted...

Just do this!

I mean, it seems pretty easy. It looks like there's a lot of preparation to do in order to get it taken care of.

I'm going to go harass someone right now!

it's what you say that kills you...

Well...more like the language you use, according to this site.

Spider-Man's deal with the devil

Hi, my name is Peter Parker, and I made a deal with the devil, Mephisto. I did this in order to save my dear, old Aunt May from dying from a sniper bullet intended for me. In exchange for her life, all the cool shit that's happened to me in the last 25 years got erased. I'm not married. My secret identity that I stupidly revealed to the entire world is now secret again. After fighting a dude that wants to kill spider-powered beings (yes...beingS...there's more than one of me out there) and almost getting killed, only to form a spider-cocoon and come out of it healed and with enhanced powers...well..all that cool stuff is gone. No more organic web-shooters, no crazy wolverine spikes that pop out of my arms, no enhanced strength or senses.

I'm back to normal.

All that to save the life of my 150 year-old aunt.




Marvel would call this a retcon. A recton is this: To retroactively change the continuity of a character or title.

Basically it goes like this: Marvel realizes that it entirely fucked up on its history of Spider-Man, and decided to right the wrong, and make things easier for them to create entertaining stories. To me, creating stories with a stronger version of their flagship character would open up things. Bigger, badder enemies? Eh...maybe.

On the other hand, marriage is a bitch...especially if you're a photographer, and you're married to a friggin' supermodel. I wouldn't want to write about that shit. No way.

So...people are crying foul.

"Thanks for erasing 25 years of Spider-Man history and memories from my life."

That's the big one.

But think about it. It's not like the editors just woke up one day and said, "Let's fuck up Spider-Man, and piss off all of our fans." No. They thought about it. They thought about, "What's the best way to tell new and interesting stories while introducing a new fan base to their favorite hero?"

"And...how can we make a little money on it."

Ahh...the money.

16 days ago...

I decided to post my last entry. The first week after I broke my elbow, it just flat-out hurt to use. After that first week, it's been usable. I just guess I needed a typing break.

So, I'm back.

I haven't even really looked at my site. For all I know it could have been taken over by renegade bloggers, hell bent on the destruction of bloggerkind as we know it. Imagine a dystopian, Mad Max-type future where blogs are scarce and fueled only by scarce sources of Mountain Dew, Bugles and Easy Cheese. Imagine going to the Bloggerdome: TWO BLOGS ENTER, ONE BLOG LEAVES! Imagine Mel Gobsom (Yes...in the future he is known as Mel Gobsom) typing furiously, avoiding flame-wars, while writing about his kitten.

This is the future, my friends.

my blogging history

I'm not exactly sure when the term 'blogging' took over the phrase 'online journal', but I'm pretty sure it was after I started my own online journal. I had a website, copey.com (which now redirects to this site, I believe), that I had started back in 2000. I had recently graduated from art school with a degree in multimedia design (can we get any more generic of a title?). I couldn't design shit at the time, and doubt I could, even now. But that didn't stop me from dabbling in some html, javascript, and a little dthml. I had what was basically my own little online journal where I'd post random thoughts and events, much like I do now.

Except back then, I think I was funnier. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still think that I'm funny, but I could express myself so much easier. I had this wit and wry cynicism that I can't seem to tap into in writing anymore.

Here's an example of my writing, found on archive.org:

December 20. 2000 6:25 AM

It's a sad day.

I have finally achieved geekdom. As of 6:30 PM CST, December 19, 2000, I have become one of the Playstation elite. After dropping the girlfriend off at her house, I decided to go "shopping". First stop; Shinder's to get my big bro a few comic book related Christmas gifts. Then to Barnes and Noble for another gift to me. For kicks, I decide to go to the local mall. After a 20 minute bout with idiot drivers, a mindlessly organized parking lot and inane pedestrians, I finally make my way inside. Extremely crabby, I stomp inside through the HomePlace entrance. Directly past the mall entrance of HomePlace is a little store called Best Buy. I walk inside. Every checkout lane is asshole to asshole. Needless to say, I make my way to the computer stuff, because, well, I'm a geek. As I walk past the Video Game stuff, I notice a line of about 6 people deep. Shorter than any other checkout lane, yet more intriguing. I notice a little blue box being passed from one cashier to another, who puts it in a bag, and gives it to a customer. I don't think anything of it, so I walked past the line and the cashiers and the Playstation 2's. As I reach the aisle of choice, it donned on me. They're selling PS2's! I make my way towards the line and notice that it hasn't gotten any deeper than was it was before. I place myself in the back of the line and wait. Curious, I ask the idiot next to me how many are left. I get a mumbled answer and respond with an equally mumbled grunt noise resembling an "Oh". As the line gets shorter, I come to the realization that the checking account my check card draws from has the low, low amount of roughly 100 bucks. I decide to go ahead with the deal, knowing that I'd quickly forget the possible 27 dollar overdraft fee I would be charged. To make a long story short... I have a Playstation 2 and you probably don't. So there. copey