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Yea! Let's let them all in!


After all, they're doing the work we won't do, right?

Probably the most offensive thing I have heard, and I have heard it all over, is that we should just let illegal aliens in because they do work we won't. That is offensive and it is bullshit. They do that work because we don't have to pay them well, not because we won't do it. They are criminals and should be deported.

Mexico is fighting economic warfare against the US, if they wanted to help stop illegals they could, and they did during the minuteman stuff a year ago.

If the federal government is not going to secure our country from illegal immigration, the people should.

Bush, McCain, Kennedy, and the rest of Congress are all sell outs and need to GO!

That's about as coherent as I get on this particular topic, the arrogance of people who insist that we should shut up while they break our laws is indescribable, what we needed was a couple hundred trucks and the National guard out there, rounding up these scumbags and shipping them back across the border.

If our economy "required" illegals to function, why is it that four days worth of protests didn't shut the country down?

And before the next person comments, make sure you look at the fucking link. Then tell me that these people are here because of the "help Wanted" sign at Wal-Mart.

This could be the most fun ever on the Internet

Not really safe for work, but just a masterpiece. This is what the internet was made for. Boobies. Bouncing boobies. I'm posting this everywhere.

Fedora Core 4 on Tecra 8000


FINISHED! Everything's up. Well almost. I get CD sound but no midi. I can live with that, alsaconf sorta worked. I'm going to upgrade to Firefox 1.5 and I might install Thunderbird, even though I don't really like it. The old beater laptop is going upstairs to be the "check email" PC now that I've moved the family PC out of the dining room and into the basement.

I did spend twenty bucks on DriverLoader, and it was worth it. Trust me, unless you buy a card with Linux drivers, you are better off buying Driverloader than spending the next week screwing with ndiswrapper. Maybe that's not geeky enough, but hey, I don't do this crap for a living any more.

I did keep a Windows partition on this thing, but I'm hoping it won't be used for much, if anything once I get maddmom's Palm hooked up. I have a feeling that the tabbed browsing will win her over. Plus, let's face it, Fedora's GNOME isn't as pretty as KDE, but it's a great desktop, and I've got the whole Open Office package installed, it works really well, it's very intuative. Much, much easier than XP, really. Plus, for some reason it really, really looks good on this screen. Windows looks really dark and clunky, but this is nice. I've been thinking of setting up maddmom's profile with the Apple scheme. That'll make me a hero.


So, as you can tell, maddmom and the boys are still out of town. I got back early last night and I've been bored, so what else to do than get rid of Slackware and install Fedora, right? Sorry Bob, you just didn't cut it.

Two things I didn't get to talk about, this is for my friend in China, Watching Duke and Gonzaga lose made up for 'Nova's loss. Really. Now I'm torn, I want to root for Florida, but I hate on that guy with the ponytail. Seriously, ponytails mustaches and open homosexuality don't have anything to do with NCAA basketball, so Gonzaga, Duke and Florida should all be banned next year. That being said, I'm rooting for Florida to go all the way in the NCAA. And I want SC to go all the way in the NIT, because if SC wins then the winner of the NIT would have beaten the winner of the NCAA two out of three meetings this year. That might put a little spin on the whole Junior Prom thing the NIT has.

In and out


Got home around 1am, so I'm a little tired and now I'm on my way to Dayton. Hell, at least I'm keeping busy. Never been so happy to be back at work in my life. This place has an echo when it's empty and that's just creepy.

Asheville NC


Is a beautiful place.  Expensive, but gorgeous.  This is an FYI if you've never been here.

I'll be in the airport in a couple, hope it's nice.

In sunny Carolina

Not really super sunny, but it is Carolina. 

Have any of you seen the stupid, offensive Century21 commercial where the Harpy is browbeating her husband into buying a house that she "wants" and "loves" even though they don't need it and in the middle of this heart to heart a freakin' realtor who's been on speakerphone the whole time speaks up and finally convinces the husband to buy a house they don't need and can barely afford. 

Now that scenario doesn't apply to me, but that type of pushy experience is exactly what I had with Century21. More to come on this, I gotta get moving,

Oh no.


I just got on a plane with no book.  I'm gonna have to read the magazine.  Again.  Pray for me.

Developers on a rampage! Watch Out!

Some people at MS are pretty ticked off that Vista slipped its date. I actually think this is a big step forward for MS. You know, actually admitting that a product isn't ready instead of shipping a craptacular "upgrade" to us for $99 bucks. (See Windows 98 and ME).

I feel kind of funny about this actually, I've been out of the systems area for almost an entire year now and I can honestly say that I haven't really paid enough attention to Vista or even the new Exchange. In fact, I have heard so little about Vista that I assumed it would slip, even though the reason that I haven't heard much about it is that I no longer have to plan for the inevitable upgrade and nothing I have in the house will run it.

Instead, I'm switching the old Toshiba from Slack to Fedora and giving it to the wife as soon as I can get the wireless card to work. I'm gonna use Linuxant driverloader again. I still have the Windows partition If she squaks, but Fedora is running nice and fast on the old boat anchor, and she wouldn't be happy with the 15 minute boot into Win2k. Plus Gnome is a lot prettier.

I decided to pull the trigger last night, bored out of my skull. No kids, no noise, no fun.

Unsurprising Post


I am totally not cut out to be a single guy. Maddmom and all four 'rats are in Florida. I am pathetic. I had fish on Friday (Lent y'all) then yesterday I had leftoverandoverandover pot roast, which was probably right on the edge, some peanuts and half a bottle of bourbon with some ginger ale in it. I watched Wedding Crashers. Funny. Then I watched all of the extras on the DVD. Not so much. Got up early this morning because my bladder made me and forgot to eat breakfast until 1:00pm, after I had 12 cups of coffe. I know it was 12 because the pot was empty. I worked out, then did laundry. It was a little warmer today and a little sunny, so I went outside to see if I could do anything about the lawn. Not happening, too wet, but there was sun, so I figured I'd stay outsde a little bit.

Do you people realise how stupid a 35 year-old guy looks shooting baskets alone on his driveway? He looks stupid. Even when he makes a shot, which is rare.

So I'm thinking marriage is genetic. At some point in my life, survival mode kicked in, and much like how elephants will run to higher ground in the days before the wet season floods out summer grazing, I went searching for a female willing to feed me. I caught one and she went away, so now I'm moping around like the zoo monkey when they take his mirror away. I'll probably starve to death. I'm totally regressing. The phone rang a little bit ago and I jumped about eight feet, the dog is hiding from me.

Four more days of this, I'll probably forget how to talk and pee in the corner.

OK see if you can follow this....


'cause I'm home alone and can't sleep. My sainted wife has all four boys with her on a Spring Break trip to Florida. In my car. And of course the baby got a stomache flu and puked everywhere.

Anyone want to buy a Volvo?

Anyway, yesterday I saw a clip of NYC's mayor Bloomberg speecifying about the Triangle Shirtwaist fire. Seems it's been 95 years since that particular event. Seems that the Triangle Shirtwaist fire helped get the job safety movement going. That's all well and good, and I'm glad that it did. So there were lots of speeches by a lot of people about working conditions and sweatshops and how things are getting better etc.

Then yesterday I see on the news that thousands of people march against a proposed law that would make harboring illeagal aliens a felony.

This seems to me a juxtaposition.

One, where you have a movement to create federal laws that would make sweatshops illegal and regulate working conditions in factories. Then you have representatives of the most exploited class of people, people who are here without documentation and therefore here illegally and subject to deportation under existing law marching against a law that would make it harder for sweatshops to employ them. Now face it, if I run a sweatshop, who am I gonna hire? If I hire illegals, how much work am I gonna put in on OSHA? I can work them 100 hours a week, I can ignore breaks, the minimum wage, anything. I can basically do what I want, because they aren't really "here". Then when I get caught, I get a slap on the wrist and go back at it. At any rate, I don't have to hire your Union ass when I got six million illegals knocking on my door ready to work when and where I say.

So the way I see it, that law is giving the illegal alien the same protection that we all have against exploitation. I think we should really get a handle on out borders and institute a guest worker program, I'm all for economic migration, but it should be controlled at the borders.

Another thing. From maddmom's home state of New Jersey, where her father still lives and my parents own property....Seems that electing a guy who's supposed to be so damn smart wasn't such a good idea. Governor Corzine, late of Goldman Sachs (see this book for a look into part of his tenure there), wants to raise the sales tax by what they are calling 1%. That is, raising it from 6% to 7%. This guy obviously thinks that most people who live in New Jersey are either stupid, ignorant or both. First of all, it's not a 1% tax increase, it's a 16% tax increase. Second, for all the talk about the freakin' poor, who will be most affected by this? That's right, the poor. If my father-in-law needs to buy a TV or hot water heater, he can get in his car and drive to Delaware, where he will pay no sales tax at all, he can buy his smokes on line and pick up booze on his way back from Florida (where he is vacationing with my wife). Poor person, in North Camden, needs a new water heater he'll be paying 16% more for it. Old lady on a fixed income in Elizabeth? 16% more. Need a new roof? 16% more for the nails, 16% more for the tarpaper, 16% more for the shingles.

Smoke? Cigarette tax go up by 35 cents a pack, to $2.75 from $2.40. BTW, that's the TAX, not the cost of a pack. Just the freakin TAX. Kentucky's tax on 20 cigarettes? $.30. Now who smokes more, rich people or poor people? Google that, I already know the answer. Thank God I quit.

Gotta truck? Need a truck? Any car that sells for more than $45,000 would be taxed at four-tenths of 1 percent of its sticker price. That same surcharge would apply to any car — new or used — that gets less than 19 miles per gallon.

But, but.. Johnny says it's only one more dollar out of a hundred!


If you live in New Jersey....Move. Now.

My Bracket, Jim.. It's not gonna make it.


OW, OW OW, it hurts! Saw the first quarter, knew this was going to happen.

It's Yakko's World


We just live in it.

List of things


1) I'll never buy a Chevy again
2) I REALLY hate birds.
3) I'm so sick of winter, I'm going to burn my house down
4) This guy is in China, and sent me this hellacious long email about all of the cool things he'll be doing.
5) I think I'll burn his house down
6) I got a call this morning from a guy that wanted me to be in NYC tomorrow at 3pm
7) Ain't gonna happen
8) Maddmom and all four boys are taking the Volvo to Florida for Spring break. The Chevy van that I just spent a whole month getting fixed has a leaking head gasket and a power steering leak.
9) I have to work because I don't have enough vacation days to do everything I want yet. That's why switching jobs sucks
10) I have to lose ten pounds by July
11) see #7
12) Can't think of a number 12

Time to buy a gun....

Whoa. In Texas even. Evidently, you get drunk in a bar, you're under arrest.

That better be shot down.

Keep your cops outta my bars.
Keep your Church off my TV, off my radio and out of my Movie theater.
Keep your hands out of my wallet.

Airlines lost 30,000 bags last year.


Three of those were mine.
Same airline, same destination. Don't check bags anymore.

Happy Spring, or something.......

First day of Spring

Oh can't you see, There's a bird on me


Know the story about the butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon causing a tornado in Texas? Take a look at this picture.

  Posted by Picasa

This bird has set off a chain of events that may lead to the end of my family as a unit. Well, not really, but he did manage to piss me off. Here's what happened.

This bird has taken up roosting on my car. "Roosting" is a scientific word that means in English, "shitting". For some reason, in his little bird brain, my car is the anti-christ, and he is the one bird that has been chosen to save the world by repeatedly flapping his wings against my windsheild and crapping on my side view mirror. Whichever one is closest to the grass. It doesn't matter where I park, if I park at the foot of the driveway, or at the top of the driveway, half in/half out of the garage, nose in or nose out, he craps on my car. I am getting pissed. I've taken to hanging a cardboard box on my mirror, but then he sits on the roof and poops down the windshield. He's pretty stubborn.

So Sunday I got back from Mass and decided that I'd hose down the cars, since if my car isn't there he will poop on whatever car is handy. So I went down the basement and turned on the hose bib in the back yard, ran outside, unwound the hose and turned on the water and started cleaning the birdcrap off of the cars.

I was getting into it, it was a warm day, and pretty bright out, and I was having fun blasting a four-inch coating of birdcrap off of my windshield and driveway. that lasted all of about ten minutes before I heard the screams.

Blood-curdling screams from the back yard, where my wife was trying frantically to get my attention. "TURN OFF THE WATER!," she yelled, "the basement is filling up with water!"

So I ran back to the bib, turned off the water and high-tailed it to the basement.

There was about an inch and a half of water, mostly contained to the utility room. Except for the two or three gallons that migrated through the walls into the carpet in the closet of my office, soaking the bottoms out of the boxes I had stored in there so I could mail my old laptop back to corporate and get my new one.

So to make a long story short, I left the hose connected to the spigot all winter, and there was still water in the line, the water froze and burst the pipe on the spigot, so when I turned on the water, then opened the spigot, I got a leak. A huge leak, and evidently, none of the kids thought it worth telling me while they sat in the basement watching TV.

So I had to spend all day Sunday moving everything out of the utility room, drying it off and putting it up in the attic so the kids wouldn't get into it, then sucking up all the water with the shop-vac, then taking down the cabinets and the wet drop ceiling, then the paneling on the walls and the wet insulation.

All because of a bird.

When I was finally finished cleaning up and the heaters were dring out the carpet in my office, I went outside and threw anything I could find at all of the birds in my yard. I felt good, for about three seconds. This morning, I took the picture up top there. Tonight, I'm going to kill that bird. I don't know how just yet, but that bird is going down. Maybe drowning? Maybe I'll run him over, but by this time tomorrow, he'll be an ex-bird.

I mean it too. And I'll eat him. Kill him, roast him and eat him. That's it.




Watch the video.

Released from Lent early, for bad behavior


I get to eat Corned beef and cabbage tonight, WOOT! I also get to drink beer, unless we go to the KofC and have fish anyway. Not much to see here, it's Friday.

So have a read:

What caused all the trouble?


I was looking through my posts and I realized that the post that crushed my kharma the first half of this week didn't even have the decency to show up. So I look on the old crackberry and there it is, sitting there with a little red x where the sent arrow should be.

Here's the post, entitled "Travel Snob"

What's worse than college girls on your flight? College
guys in the airport. Seriously, move your stinking,
hungover asses off of the chairs and on to the floor
if you MUST sleep. The rest of us have things to do.

Listen, girls, Ill give you two words: gate check. Get
rid of your huge duffel bags full of, I have no doubt,
several tons of different contraceptive devices and
anti-biotics. Some of us just want a place to put our

Not there you pigs.

And that dirty thought wouldn't have appeared in our heads
if you girls had been dressed appropriately. Your
ass crack isn't the most appetizing thing this early in
the am.

I hate flying on Sunday. None of the rules apply.
frinstance, you will never see a woman in lace-up Ugg
boots in the security line on a Thursday, and if you
see any skinny guys with a guitar on Tuesday morning,
get his autograph, he's a professional. On Sunday? Half
the airport is full of skinny, stinky kids with their
First Act Wal-Mart guitars strung on their backs. When
the revolution comes, hipsters and wookies will be the
first ones up against the wall.

You see, I travel constantly. I'm in the air at least three out of every five days, I got the drill down.

I have slip on dress shoes, a rubber watch, a credit card wallet with easy access to my ID, the crackberry and laptop backpack. I have no change in my pockets. I also pack light, I can do that, I'm a guy. I can get through security, even when I get picked for the full body-cavity search, in no time. Most of the time, I am travelling between 6am Monday and 10pm Friday. Most of the people in the airport with me travel constantly too and know the drill.

But, get a flight on a weekend and the whole damn world changes. Security lines are slow because everyone's wearing sneakers, half of the people in line don't realise you actually do have to take off your shoes and your coat, the college kids take over the chairs in the gate area, and the bars are full. It's too loud to do any work on the phone, and some high school kid has his phone plugged in to the only free outlet, because he might need a fully charged cell phone to call into the hour-long conference call he has going on. You know, he's got kids to feed. I'm kidding there, he's actually been repeating, "no, you hang up." for the last fourty minutes and caused the woman from internal audit stuck on the chair next to him to pre-emptively file for divorce, because she knows when she gets home her husband will ask her if she was going to do any laundry.

Usually, if I'm in the right airport, I can get into one of the road warrior clubs, like the Crown Room or Admiral's Club, and keep out of everybody's way and get some work done, but if I'm flying some crazy airline, I've got to deal with non-flyers, so listen up...

Put on some nice clothes, take a shower before you go and be polite when you're at the airport, please, it will make everyone's life a little easier. Especially mine.

Posted absolutely without apology, and I don't care how excited you are to be going to Cancun, you think I'm excited to be going to Buffalo?



Idea stolen from here

link here

Why you should read my blog

It'll get you laid. Or at least get your knob polished, but you have to leave a comment. And an address.

And directions.

Driving directions, not knob polishing directions. I'm not submissive.

And it better be a really good comment.

I'm home

Finally made it home. Just in time for dinner yesterday.

I hit the "Travel Trifecta" this trip.

1) Rental car breakdown.
2) Cancelled connecting flight, had to stay overnight in Chicago.
3) Got picked for extra security screening on my way in to my flight home.

Because nothing says "Terrorist" like "pasty white guy in a tie".

Got yer bracket filled out?


Don't get any Number 1 seed on it now.

That went well

Made it to O'Hare in Chicago to find out that they cancelled the last flight to Louisville.

Looks like I get home tomorrow.

I will never insult a Wookie again.



I'm flying into the teeth of a storm on a flight full of High-School kids.  I changed my flight to get on this one so I can get home and see my family.

I've seen this movie.  It ends badly.



I would like to apologize to any and all fat college girls, hungover college guys, and of course wookies that I may have offended with the previous posts.  I have learned my lesson.  Now please let the roadside assist from the rental car company arrive promptly.

Thank you

An open letter to the women of Louisville, KY

Just being fat and blonde does not give you the right to dress like a Dixie Chick.  Wash your face and pull your pants up.

That's it, I'm done.

Airport Muzak

I've been at the gate for just about 20 minutes now and the same song has been playing over the speakers behind me since I sat down.

Normally I would'nt notice, but this is really, really bad.  I could go as far as to say that this meets Code Pink's definition of tortoure.  I think if this whiny guy doesn't shut up, I'll have to kill someone. 

It'll have to be the Wookie in the "ironic" Star Wars T shirt.

Oh great, it stopped.  Now it's Rick Astley, this plane is going DOWN!

Pinewood derby update


Gabe came in second and is on his way to a lucrative career in gravity propelled automotive design.


Pinewood derby day

With the one and two seeds out of the Big East tourney, the nation's attention falls to the Pope John Cub Scouts Pinewood Derby.

Looking at the field, I'd say we have a chance.  But then this is the first one of these I've been to where it looks as if the kids actually did most of the work. 

No clear windows or powder coat this year.

We'll see how Gabe does.



Maddmom bought a new microwave to replace the one that the Beast burnt up. A real humdinger of an oven. Installs over the range and has a fan, light, pre-set cook times, child lock and an enormous jelly filled vibrator. We call it "Tom".

Speaking of a righteous screwing; I setup up DSL. I'm halfway to my goal of being cable-free. I can't wait to completely cut the cord. I'm in the process of deciding between dish network or direct tv, I suppose I'll go with the one who charges the least. Maybe I'll have to change later, but at least I have a choice. There's no choice with cable and they know it, that's why my bill went up $31 bucks. Sayonara jerkoffs.

So I spent most of Wednesday evening getting Tom into his spot above the range, lots of sawing and hammering and replacing cabinets, and soon we will have a kitchen that doesn't look like it's been on fire. Recently anyway.

So it's Friday and my blood sugar's low, but there's only two days till I can have a beer or desert, one of them. I swear to Christ I'd better lose weight this Lent or next year I'm giving up sobriety.

I'll be in Philly next week. Haven't been home in a while, it'll be interesting to see what's changed. Hopefully, they fixed the airport.

Guaranteed to reduce productivity



A summary of Kingsley Amis' "The Old Devils" with a review.

Old people in the south of Wales get drunk, pissed off and laid when old friends move back to town.

This book won the Booker prize in 80-something and it is pretty funny, but we've all read it before, and will read it again. One good thing is that any description of "the act" (you do know what I mean, right?) is completely left out. A blessing, when you think that the first 20 pages describe the toilet habits of a cronically constipated 70-year-old man.

OK airplane read, but I'm afraid I'm losing my taste for fiction. Every once in a while I put down the history and dig through the list of literary prize winners in the fiction category at the library. And every once in a while I'll pick a winner, most of the time, not. I've learned to stay away from fiction written by women, TV stars or Nick Sparks. With few exceptions (none for Mr. Sparks), these books contain more hormones that a birth-control patch and can be difficult to handle if you don't want your balls to shrink to the size of rasins.

Seriously, I read "The Time Traveller's Wife" all the way through and ended up having to read every book Clive Cussler ever wrote to de-sensitize my nipples. And I actually liked that book.

I've also learned that if the words "By the Author of (insert title of more popular, better book here)" appear anywhere on a book jacket it's best to leave that one on the shelf. More than three quarters of the books in any public library have that blurb on the jacket, and half of those are either prequels or sequels to the better book. And that better book is never, ever on the shelf. So have the librarian order it, unless Nick Sparks wrote it, and read that one instead.

So, to sum up, everyone has read "The Sun Also Rises", "A Farewell to Arms", "The Beautiful and the Dammed", and "The Great Gatsby." And everyone has been re-writing those same four books since about 1950 or so. Some do a better job than others. "The Old Devils" is one of those better jobs.

That championship feeling


Hotel TV usually sucks, but tonight on ESPN Classics, I'm watching the '83 '76ers championship game against the Lakers. 


Decisions, Decisions


Last week, on my way home from a client site I checked in with maddmom and heard the words no one wants to hear after a tough week: "We have a little problem here." These are the words that, when spoken to you by the female that you are married to, indicate that you are, in fact, a Dad and will have to actually "do something."

Like I said, no one wants to hear those words.

The key words in the statement, "We have a little problem here." are "We" indicating "you" and "problem" meaning just about anything from a leaky sink to a full-fledged house fire to one of your sons drawing a penis on the chalkboard by the phone. The other words, "little" meaning "small" or "incredibly large" and "have" meaning "happening right now, I'm calling from an inflatable boat in the attic" or " I took care of it, I just wanted you to know it was all your fault" usually get lost in the ether as as soon as you hear the word "We" come out of your lovely wifes head you will start thinking of everything you were supposed to tighten or nail down before you left for work and at the same time trying to remember each of your kids teachers names so you don't sound like an idiot in front of Sister when you go in for the meeting.

I was very lucky this time. The sentence translated to: "Someone drew a penis on the chalkboard by the phone. No one will own up to it. Hayden blamed Gabe who blamed the Beast who said, "what's a penis?" and when informed denied it, then all three of them blamed Skippy who isn't even two yet and can't draw anything much less a full-fledged dick, balls and all." So, like I said, I dodged a bullet. Maddmom, probably a little tired out, put the onus on the children to 'fess up, telling them that it was between them and God, and as the denials kept coming switched into pick your battles mode and moved on.

I stayed out of it.

Sunday, Gabe and I went to Wal-Mart to get paint for his pinewood derby car. Fun was had by all. We went to the self check-out lane to keep away from the after-church grocery crush, slid the ten-spot into the machine, Gabe grabs the change out of the change tray, I grab the dollars out of the bill tray.... and notice that the machine gave me back nine twenties.

What do you do there? My receipt was correct, I got my $4.52 back, but with an additional $180 on top. Did I win a prize? Was Wal-Mart paying me back for all of the cheap crap I had bought and thrown away over the years? I suppose none of that mattered, they had me on tape, I had to return the money (that's humor there folks). So I went to the desk, showed the woman my receipt, took my proper change and left. On the way out, Gabe asked how much money I gave back and I told him. He said, "Well, you have to be honest." I said he was right, but maybe I should have drawn a penis on the bills before I gave them back. He said that would've been funny. We have our culprit. It's between him and God.

I've been having weirdly vivid dreams lately. Last night I had a dream that the parents of a girl I dated in college, for a total of six or seven months, were suing me for ruining her life. Evidently, after I broke up with her she went back to her old boyfriend and eventually something horrible happened, it wasn't clear what exactly it was. But it was made clear that her parents blamed me for it because I had dumped her freshman year. Now I'm forced to defend myself in court and on Greta and O'Reilly and Geraldo, not to mention that horrible screechy woman on MSNBC. I was the new Scott Peterson. Guilty, Guilty Guilty! Totally ruined my life. My whole life from High School to now was under the media microscope, everything I ever did was second guessed and deconstructed on national television.

This dream was so bad that it woke me up in a cold sweat. When I woke up I couldn't tell if I was awake or still dreaming. I was sick. So I started looking back over the decision tree that got me to this point. From deciding what college to go to to my major, jobs, marriage, houses, kids, everything.

So sitting up in the middle of the night, I realized that when I followed my gut to make a decision on my own, I make pretty good decisions. When I let someone else drive, and let them make the decisions that I should be doing on my own, I get crushed. Really. And I can say this; before 2001, I made very few decisions for myself.

Now I'm not saying that everything that I did before 2001 was dictated to me by someone else. What I mean is that I used to let events carry me along in directions that I knew were contrary to what I wanted because I thought it was easier to let that happen than to actually make the decision that I thought should be made. And I was right, it was easier to go with the flow, in the short-term anyway. It was long term that it came back to bite me in the ass. Take for example, getting married. That was a tough call. Really. But not in the way you think.

I knew I wanted to get married to maddmom. Absolutely. No question. But you put up with a lot of crap when you make a decision like that. You have people telling you that you're too young, you have people telling you you need to see other people, you lose friends who don't, for whatever personal reason, want you to get married. There are people who don't like your wife to be and there is family who thinks that if you just kept dating for a long enough time, you'd eventually break up. All of these people are trying to control your decision. It would be easier for you to just cruise along and let everything be, conflict with one person, even if it's a woman you love, is easier than conflict with virtually everyone you know. It's HARD to make a decision like that, even when you know in your heart it's the right decision. I made the decision, and short-term, there was lots of conflict in my life. But I was certain I was right, and I was.

I think the willingness to make those decisions is maturity. Not making decisions, or letting events carry you along until a decision is made for you, or even worse, letting external actors make your decisions is adolescence. And I can honestly say that with a few notable exceptions, before 2001 I was in adolescence. In 2001 I was let go by the company I worked for and I was forced to make decisions that I had been avoiding for years. I'm glad I have to make those decisions now, as much as they hurt. Because the pain of conflict and fear of the unknown is much, much easier than the perpetual feeling of spinning out of control you get when you rely on others or events to do your work for you.

End of sermon. Here's a Nun Joke:

Two nuns walk into a liqueur store and ask the man at the counter for a bottle of Blackberry Brandy. The clerk tells the nuns that he knows they are not suppose to drink alcohol and he cannot sell them the bottle.
One of the nuns said "It's okay. It's for the Mother Superior. You see, she's constipated." So the clerk sells them the brandy.

After locking up the store at closing time, the clerk walks down the street and sees the two nuns are falling down drunk.

The clerk says "Sisters, you lied to me. You said that was for Mother Superior's constipation."

The nun replies "It is. When she sees us, she's going to SHIT."

Interesting reading for Saturday Morning


“As tragic as every death is, there were less than 1,000 in Louisiana"

DOJ opens probe into online music pricing: sources�|�Reuters.com


I guess this means in five years I'll get another five dollar check, right? Seriously, Elliot Spitzer is my hero. Well, not exactly my hero, I think he's a grandstanding ass. But he is the greatest salesman for the product I sell. So I'm happy when he goes on a witch hunt, makes my job easier.