Sunday, April 24, 2005
Thoughts on Empire
So The Empire Strikes Back was playing on Fox (I think) this afternoon, and a bunch of stuff came up:
1). Stewie, the little baby on Family Guy, is like an evil C3PO in an infant's body. The accent, the timbre of the voice, they're nearly identical. At least to me.
2). Empire Carpet ads played throughout the showing. Normally I don't even "hear" Empire ads, because they originated here, and I've grown up on them. But uh, I guess The Empire is expanding. Someone needed to carpet and put blinds up in the windows of the Death Star.
3). Okay, you know the conversation where Yoda and Luke are talking about lifting the X-Wing out of the muck? Goes like this:LUKE: (focusing, quietly) All right, I'll give it a try.
YODA: No! Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.
The next time you watch the movie and want to riff it, try having Luke say the following line:LUKE: Uh, okay, sure. I'll
tryer...give that a shot then.
4). Muppet Yoda still rules over CG Yoda, and Luke not screaming like a cheerleader is still preferable to the version they showed this time.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Well, the glory of the new record has quickly come to an end, as I sat in some of the worst traffic on my drive in yet again this morning, the fourth day in a row. It's getting so bad that I have time to actually recognize cars every day. If this continues I'm going to have to start waving to them like they're neighbors or something. Maybe if I had bluetooth I could have some IM conversations with them.
Hours driven so far this week: 9.75.
And it's only Thursday, and I haven't even driven home yet today.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
It's a New Record
While I've been lamenting the commute a lot lately (2 hour drives into the city, two mornings in a row, thanks), I have to brag about the trip home tonight for a second.
I did the 51 mile commute in a new record low 45 minutes. We're talking time from me turning the ignition in the parking lot to pulling into the garage, for an average total speed of 68 mph. In a Honda Civic. Keep in mind we're including the time sitting at stoplights, my surface street time in Chicago, etc. For reference sake, if you were to just do 51 miles of highway driving (no stop-lights, no surface streets, no stop-signs) at 60mph it should take you 51 minutes.
I know it doesn't seem that impressive to those of you who don't have to do this stikin' drive every day, but holy jeez was I flying. I had it up to about 92mph for a stretch, and my median highway speed was right around 80.
As an aside, I realized that in the morning, some people say they aren't awake 'till they've had their first cup of coffee. I'm not awake 'till I've hit 75mph.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Mtv's got this trainwreck of a show (yes I realize this could be ANY of their shows, but stay with me here) called My Super Sweet Sixteen. It's a show where they evidently follow the life of rich spoiled bitches who act as if Paris Hilton is their role-model.
On today's episode that I happened to stare at slack-jawed for ten minutes before running out to the store on errands, this spoiled brat cried when mummy took away her credit card (don't get me started on how or why a fifteen year old girl has a credit card), but then cheered and told her Daddy that she loved him when he threw her a $120,000 party (no, seriously, I counted the zeros correctly) and gave her an $80,000 Range Rover. It should be noted that the only time she told her Daddy she loved him was after he gave her the car. I'm sure it has everything to do with creative editing. Or not.
So, in the spirit of hoping to be insanely rich someday and spoil Riley rotten to the core, we've decided to beat all of these spoiled bitches to the punch, and buy Riley a Pathfinder for her first birthday.
Hey, it's all we could afford.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
I Want My Fucking Country Back
It's stories like this that make me a proud independant voter. Normally, I try and keep any semblance of politics off of this lousy site, but uh, Clintons pointing fingers at gays pointing fingers at Clintons?
Seriously, what happened to this country? At what point was it okay for a Clinton to point out that someone's gay and that they've got some form of "self-loathing" thing going on? Or that a gay-Republican starts a fund to get Hillary out of New York? I mean, shouldn't gays like Hillary?
This is just one hell of a clusterfuck, and it seems to be the growing trend in politics to keep down this path of confusion and bitter finger-pointing rather than problem-solving.
I wish I had a coherent point to make on all of this, but it's just so stupid and confusing I'm not sure if there even is a point to be made, other than for both sides to just Shut The Fuck Up.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
It's days like yesterday that make me think maybe I should start a blog about the commute every day, but most days that would probably be pretty boring. Like "long delays due to tolls being backed up," or "long delays because it's Tuesday," or "oh god please fucking kill me now if I have to do another hour and a half in the car I'd rather die."
But yesterday was one of those I-wish-I-had-the-video-camera-mounted-on-the-dash kind of days, because you don't see carfires but once or twice a year.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Y'know, people always ask me, "Bowler, why do the Japanese rock so hard?" Well, now I have my answer:
Because years from now aliens will land on earth and attempt to communicate to us the typical "take me to your leader" phrase through pop-locking and doing the robot because they will have seen this video after it was broadcast throughout space, by translating the dance between the quicky-mart attendant and the police officer like some sort of epsiode of Amazing Stories gone horribly wrong. Or right.
I am now going to watch this video for the umpteenth time.
For the record, "how they do that" seems to be a "Sledgehammer" effect of filming the subjects doing the pop-locking in insanely slow-motion and then selectively saving the frames you want to keep, or having a claymation animator "pose" the subject every frame. Either way, it's Bad. Ass.