I don't know how many of you do the whole podcast thing and I don't care. That's a lie, I do care and I do know. But I don't know what podcasts you listen to and/or produce. And to that, I do not care. But tell me anyway. Because I do care. One of the ones which helps me get past Black Blog Blogitty Blog (AKA: The only show worse than cancer) is Fair Game. While, yes, the comedy writing is a bit heavy handed and Leno-esque at moments (it's true, Faith. Deal.), it sometimes has some brilliant shining moments of brilliancy. Such as this segment: THIS ONE. I'd give you a hint as to what it was in order to entice you to listen, but it is much better if you don't know. So just listen. What do you have to lose?

Damn, this pledge drive has been wearing on me. I've decided to give to WNYC because they provide 90% of the podcasts I use to avoid Black Blog Blogitty Blog. I can't support my local station as long as they continue to broadcast the most racist, shallow and pointless show ever to take to the air during the exact moment in time that I want to listen to the radio. How bad is it? Remember when Juan Williams hosted Talk of the Nation? Those were the good times, my friends. This show has Juan as a senior news analyst. He does a superb job of taking a news story and adding nothing to it in any way. Unfortunately for Juan, I can read headlines on my own, so I still have no use for him. Oh, awful waste of time and money, if you didn't exist NPR may actually craft a good show that focuses on news from a minority perspective. Instead, we get Black Blog Blogitty Blog. The worst show ever.

A few of you may remem
Well, one of you
Ok, me. I remember. Hmph. I remember a few hundred years ago posting a link to an Amazon ad that used a not-thin guy to sell underwear. Remember now? He was kinda plump? Anything? No, well, anyway, I have found a female model who, while not not-thin, may be the perfect companion for that man. Meet the Razor Gator!

Ah yes, the tool for people who, like me, don't like to change blades on their razors and, unlike me, are willing to try to sharpen their razors rather than, like me, run a dull razor over the same patch of irritated skin a billion times every morning (by which I mean, late afternoon).

I love this model. Her eyes seem to scream "please don't hit me again." Her lips seem to say... wait, no lips. Or hips. Or knowledge that a camera is pointed at her.

But wait, there's more! Don't let the section labeled "Razor Gator Research" pass you by. A section that uses technical terms like "Razor Gunk" might overwhelm some pedestrian visitors to the site, but not I. I soldier on! Like one of those people! The ones with the guns. Who have to keep going on? Lawyers? Marching on like a, um, band leader? I looked at the data that seems to indicate that use of the Razor Gator can reduce the chance of getting a bacterial infection. But I ask you this, imaginary opponent: Why would I want to sharpen something that, when able to directly enter my skin, can cause an infection? Could this be what is afflicting your model? And why does my keyboard not register every twentieth keystroke or so? Can you answer me that? And why is the Gator so damned manual? Is this not the near future as promised during my parents' childhoods? Maybe some sort of Razor Roomba that wanders the house looking for things to sharpen is in order. Maybe it can dance to a song by Spoon. Maybe it can check a twitter feed and remark to me, on occasion, how it, too, hates the entire notion of Twitter in a dry tone before commenting upon a story it heard on NPR earlier in the day. Because that, my dear Razor Gator, that would be sweet.

Been mostly offline for the last few days due to rain. Stupid swbell sbc at&t. Ooh, and now gunshots. Love living in the ghetto (lite).

Note to self: remember for future consideration that braunschweiger plus jarlsberg equals many many poops. Thank you.

I've been going back through my posts and adding tags. Good times. So far, THIS is as far back as I've managed to get. I still have a special place in my heart for the porn reviews, too. I should have kept those going.

Edit: I hope I never wind up in THIS KID's car. That's some, um, interesting music he's been listening to. Granted, I remember when I bought my first CD player (a 6 CD changer! But a display model that was missing its remote and manual) and only had enough cash left over to buy one very cheap CD (Volume 2 of a rap compilation) with case damage...

THIS looks AWESOME!

Edit: jesus

Well, it sure is nice to have that whole Primary election thing behind us, right? Now it's time for healing. Bringing the party together under one glorious, unified, multi-racial banner for WhuhHUNH?! You mean it isn't over? You can't actually mean that the advance data and polling, which strongly suggested that Clinton would not be KO'd in Texas or Ohio, was correct? But all the news media kept saying that this was the last stand! Like standing at that car rental place that tries harder! And we all know how that turned out for Johnny Appleseed and his Band of Married Men!! And the media kept quoting, in dire tones, that even Mr. Former President Clinton acknowledged that this was do or die WHICH ALWAYS MEANS DIE!!

Speaking of Die, including the 4, 6, 8, 10, 12 and 20-sided varieties, along with the "death" type of die, nearly ironically, as well. J. Jonah Peterson, the co-inventor (but totally the one who came up with all the good stuff) of Mongols and Maps died at the tender age of 53+2d20 years. He will be with us in our hearts forever, unless someone should raise him from the dead, in which case he will lose a level and, soon after, reach "venerable" age-- considering the stat loss would be a total of 6 to Str, Dex and Con, perhaps he should consider remaining in the grave and just rolling up a new character.

Speaking of segways, I love this:



Good Thursday to you all.

From the LJ mainpage just now:

This Week in Entertainment

Jeff Healey Dead at 41. Blind musician Jeff Healey lost his battle with cancer on Sunday. He was 41. mrwhipee reports the facts on his life and death …

I suppose, first off, I'm impressed that LJ would know that I would find the death of Jeff Healey to be entertaining. Most people, I'd assume, would be all, "oh, cancer. That's sad. He was young, too," but not I. For I am a bastard who gets his entertainment news from the mainpage of Live Journal. Suck it, Jeff.

Next, there is the whole "Blind musician Jeff..." that I love. Hopefully, when I die, the St. Louis Post Dispatch will list me as "Contact-wearing cook Andy..." Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself here! The Post Dispatch? Nay, good sir, for your death shall be reported to us by mrwhipee! You know, Senior LJ News Analyst Mr. Tiberious Whipee of the Nova Scotia Whipees.

Anyway. Happy Two for Tuesday.

My apologies. Most sincerely. It's one of those things. You've transgressed (or, rather, I'VE transgressed) and you don't know how to go about sticking your head back out and apologizing and starting again without seeming like a liar and a person who is full of himself and without trying to be the abuser who says, "no, really, it won't ever happen again this time," and you want to mean it but you know you probably can't live up to it. You can't really go back to the way things were and real life will take hold and you'll have to do some laundry and before you know it you'll be mowing the lawn again. By which I mean I'll be mowing the lawn again. It's an electric mower I got from amazon. They should watch it with that free shipping crap. Anyway, wishing you were still in touch with your online friends. Wishing you knew where everyone was and what they were doing and not sure how to ask or if you even want to know. I mean, in my head Leo and Shauna moved to Cali and have become fabulously happy and successful and yet Lil' Mussolini is only 2 and is still irrepressibly adorable. Do I want to tamper with that? How could I? A few months back Whittlz messed with my image of her. She left NYC for Cali? Who would believe that? Who would believe that my Lizzie and I are still together and still super happy with each other. We own a home. I added my own beautiful kitten to her collection of two cats. My kitten's name is Boxcar Credenza. You know, Boxcar to recognize the hobo side, Credenza 'cause she's fancy like that. Who could believe that shit? I own a Zune. It's friggin' awesome! Who knew?

I guess what finally brings me back. What has finally forced my hand. It's a job change. The place I've been at for 6 years is making me sick. I've fought the war for food quality and lost. Wednesday night we did a meatloaf special and I nearly cried. I came in an hour before the special was to kick off and everything was already cooked. The meatloaf looked like someone took a dump on a tray. It had been sitting off to the side for over an hour. Most certainly not food safe. The gravy was from a powder. The mashed potato was from a bag, and amazingly gluey. The green beans. My god. They were frozen, then boiled with bacon and ham. My parents are from the South. They don't quite get the difference between oil soluble and water soluble compounds, but they don't own a restaurant. I can understand their bad taste. I'm depressed with this shit. The owner thinks it is top notch. Yum! I can't even begin to express myself to her. Look, I know YOU like it, but this food is not worth eating. Says the employee to the boss. She loves it. Sycophants love it. Meanwhile...

I might be buying a used book store. A profitable one at that. $50k for an easy million in inventory. The current owner didn't really want to be in the business. A stamp guy, to be honest. It's complicated. The store pulls in tons of profit (Half.com, amazon and eBay. Hooray technology!), but it is all a bit outside of my expertise. We'll see.

I hope you have all been well. And I hope El' Duce hasn't aged.

(PS. I can't believe the spell checker didn't find errors. I think tons of this crap looks misspelled. Including the word "misspelled.")

I haven't been here in a while. Or Pie. Or Threadless. Haven't even been checking the ol' email more than once a week and as for the social networking places, forget 'em. Girlfriend, man. Shit has been really really good. Couldn't be better, really. I basically live with her now. We're slowly emptying my apartment into her house as we wait for my lease to end. Planning a trip to meet her folks (she's met mine. Oh, the last of my grandparents died since I was last here, IIRC, and she met the whole family then. No "sorry to hear about"s, please.), also thinking about a trip to China.

So, yeah, life has been good. I had a terrible case of bronchitis two months ago and haven't smoked since. I expected it to be harder to quit smoking, but it has been really easy for me. Maybe because I'm too stubborn to cave in to cravings.

I'll have more time to spend here once I get caught up on episodes of the Wire. Until then, take this small piece of advice: If a small child asks if you are a specific character from a specific movie, say "no" unless you want to have to explain that you don't know where Buzz and Woody are every week for the rest of your life.

Bush has pissed off the most festive section of the Ridiculous Right with a friendly game of Who would win, Spiderman or Batman?. Yes, he decided what Cuban exiles should do should Castro die and have his government overthrown by the existing Cuban population. They should wait until the new Cuban democracy settles in before taking any action, of course. The exiles are not happy with Bush's imaginary potential future Cuban government's plans and have decided not to wait until this non-existent government settles in, declaring that they will seek to resolve their property rights claims with the as-yet-only-existing-on-bar-napkins government the instant it magically takes control of the current chock-full-of-Castro government. Democrats considered taking the entirely speculative position of supporting the exiles' dreamlike stance, but were afraid of having to actually back that position sometime in the vast and indeterminate future. Meanwhile, Ralph Nader has declared that he is working on a plan of action should Galactus attack.