Keeping Score

The Big OH!

Been watching a bit too much of the O! Network lately. I have to say that the "O" isn't for "Oxygen," or rather, it would be for Oxygen if that's what you need after a large self-induced womangasm.

It seems that from the advertising and programming that's on that network from 10pm to 1am, that it's all about 40-something year old women and their sexual frustrations. Which is great and all, if you're over forty and sexually frustrated, but man, you really shouldn't be mixing up commercials for "women's viagra" and Oprah in the same commercial block, inbetween episodes of some 70 year old woman giving out sex pointers and your fantasy-of-the-day show where the plot typically revolves around a 40-something year old woman getting it on with 18 year olds.

And while we're on the topic, can I say what a train-wreck that Sex Talk show is? Because lord knows I'm not taking my sex-advice from someone old enough to be my grandmother.

And then there's Bliss: The cookie-cutter plot show that points out pr0n is pr0n. Don't bother watching, in case you were interested. The typical plot goes like this:

Attractive but average 40-something woman is despondant about her lack of a sex-life. Enter 18 year old sex object (can be either male or female; it doesn't matter). Teenaged sex-object totally tries to seduce 40-something woman. 40-something woman will have nothing of it. Think of her sensibilites as a woman, please! 40-something woman decides to try a single meeting with teen sex object. What harm could come? Drinks are had. They have sex. Nothing is shown. Cut to a scene of regret on the face of the 40-something woman. The teen then has words of wisdom along the lines of "why so glum, that was awesome," which wins over the heart of the 40-something woman ("I can just tell everyone at work that having sex with someone as old as my son was awesome! That'll set them straight!"), who then turns the tables and becomes the dominant pursuer of the teen sex object as we roll credits.

The only thing it's missing is some good old fashioned wacka-chick music and a money shot.

One more thing: When you're supposedly a women's network? You might want to re-word the following ad on your website:

Heat up your In-Box. Sign up for occasional sexy emails.

I will now refer to women's genetalia from here-on-out as the "in-box." Thank you.

Holy Higher Functions Batman

Remember how I was complaining about the SAT Question of the Day site and how their math questions were oddly worded and quite difficult?

I just took Midway's Programmer Entry Exam.

I gave up by the fifth question. I guess it would have helped if I took Calculus. Or anything beyond Algebra II.

Test question. Let me know if anyone who reads this knows the answer:

Given the following two linear equations, what is the point at which they intersect?

f(x) = 2x + 7
f(x) = -3x –2

(a). (-2.9, 6.4)
(b). (6.9, -8.2)
(c). (-1.8, 3.4)
(d). They never intersect.
(e). Sweet mother of god my brain hurts.

Turning in My Man Card

Well, I finally caved and let the wife convince me to go to Hooters last night.

Yes, you read that right. The wife wanted to go to Hooters.

I always joke in passing when we're driving around town looking for a bite to eat for dinner (it happens more often than you'd think, really), "Hey! Why don't we eat at Hooters?" ::nudge nudge wink wink::

"Fine by me," she'll usually say.

See, she used to go eat lunch there with the guys in her IT department at an old job. It's not that she enjoyed the idea of eating at Hooters, mind you; it's that eating at Hooters was one step above eating by herself in her cube. This is obviously an arguable tenent, but if you're anything like me, social dining is a mandate. So really, if there was any shock value to eating at Hooters, it had long since worn off, and she even grew a bit fond of the comfort-level of the food, evidently.

So, the wife and I stroll into Hooters, and I finally get my first real experience of eating in the famous T and A restaurant. I have to say that it was pretty uncomfortable for two reasons:

1). It's a little uncomfortable and awkward trying check out the "merchandise" when your wife is right there across the table from you, even when she understands why your eye is wandering. It's not that I find floozies waiting tables at a T and A sports bar/restaurant all that appealing, but uh, their uniforms are sort of designed to grab your eye.

2). I am just so not their target demographic. I'm just not that into organized sports (unless it's Da Bears or Da Cubs or Da Hawks), so the big screen TVs aren't all that appealing, and while I'd love to stare at the women there, even out of sheer "art" appreciation, I can't say that they're all that appealing. Add in the obnoxiously loud beer-swilling thick-skulled gibbons who evidently don't care if they're no longer in the non-smoking section, and you've pretty much summed up my worst-case-scenario restaurant.

Needless to say, I probably won't be back there any time soon.

Look!

I've started posting to Sketch of the Day again! Go see!

Hopefully this will get Gina off my back ;)

Double Look

Oh no, Big Brother is coming for me.

I'm being sarcastic (as if that's somehow a change of pace), but my office finally mandated a net-watching policy. I have to say I'm not very surprised at its arrival, as people at my office like to listen to internet radio, and watch the new streaming news networks that have sprung up now that even ESPN has video feeds. Something had to be done to curb the blatant bandwidth wasting.

But what I'm amazed at more than anything is the true sense of paranoia that's taken over our office. These guys used to look at porn on their PCs at work and are now complaining that they are being watched. Well, DUH. Downloading entire installments of the Lord of the Rings movie series on a daily basis is going to get noticed guys.

What this means for me now is that my usual habit of doing some quick surfing while waiting for large files to open over the network (which sometimes can take a full minute) is going to have to end. It's frustrating, because twiddling your thumbs for a full minute 30 or so times a day just isn't all that entertaining.

What it means for you is that I won't be posting here from work again for the foreseeable near future.

I'm Back: Part The First

Well, it was quite a trip. Disneyworld is certainly quite the work of art. However, if I were going to do it all over again, I'd have not driven (22 hours each way, straight, without stopping for more than a meal), I'd have stayed in a hotel (vs. camping), and I would have gone to Jamaica. Here, without further ado, are some of the highlights/lowlights.

Dear Tennessee: You might want to re-think the whole Fireworks/Gas Station idea. Ever seen the Loony Toons cartoons with Yosemite Sam where he lights a match in a room full of powder-kegs? Yeah, that.

Turn where? Where? I can't see it. What sign? A sign that's glowing and says "turn here?" I don't see what you're talking abou -- ooooohhhhhh, you meant that sign.

Advantages of staying at a campsite: seeing this guy first thing in the morning when you arrive at 5:30 AM

Disadvantages of staying at a campsite: trying to stay warm when it's 40 degrees at night.

Advantages of staying at a campsite with an electric hookup: remembering to bring an electric heat fan and an extension cord.

Much, much more tomorrow when we get the film developed.