Happy New Year! (Eastern Standard Time)

posted by opus  at 11:03 PM

I just played the Dean for America Online Game It's cute, and idealistic, if in the end a little pointless. Sort of like his canidacy!

I wanted to pay the "George W. Bush For America" game but I couldn't get past the no-bid contract process to join.

--opus

posted by opus  at 9:03 AM

The FBI has issued a warning to watch out for people with Almanacs. Apparently, they could be used to plan deadly attacks, or even worse, figure out the average rainfall of Zaire. For the record, I'm dead set against any form of literary profiling.

--opus

smug bastards

posted by opus  at 8:15 PM

There is an FBI agent whose job it is to come up with catchy nicknames for bank robbers. Don't we have lame internet quizzes that can do that for free?

--opus 'babyface' moreschi

posted by opus  at 2:13 PM

Super-Genius Art or Super-Sappy Listener?

A reminder before I begin: I have been, in the past few weeks, on a whirlwind tour that's taken me across nine time zones, two seperate christmas mornings, planes, trains, busses and boats, and gladhanding opportunities to catch up with relatives whose names I barely remember. In short, I'm tired. Damn tired.

But nevertheless, I put on the Flaming Lips "Yoshimi Vs. The Pink Robots" DVD that I got as part of our annual swapping of commercial goods. This is an album I've listened to hundreds of time, the only difference this time was the 5.1 surround sound, the video element, and the aforementioned exhaustion.

But when "Do You Realize?" came on, and I was singing along gamely from the floor of my father's living room, tears welled in my eyes. I choked them back down, and it happened again. Surrounded by music, spending days and hours with people I loved, it got a little too much to handle. I barely made it through the end of the song.

So, I could be a wuss. Okay, no question, I am. But it's also a damn good song, and I'm realizing in little ways, I lead a damn lucky life.

Happy new years to my friends and family. I love you all lots.

--opus

posted by opus  at 10:55 AM

Somebody just left me a comment that said "Penis. Penis Penis Penis."

That person, whomever they may be, is the postmodern poet genius of the 21st century.

--opus

posted by opus  at 6:17 PM

Have Yourself and Over-Analytical Little Christmas.

posted by opus  at 1:21 PM

Belgiumtown, USA

Here I am in Belgium, and what did I eat for breakfast? Yes, that's right, I ate waffles. Waffles in Belgium. I am a walking culinary cliche - and I like it.

Here's the thing about Belgium that they don't tell you in the tourism books, the thing that I tend to forget when I'm not here. The weather can best be described, through most of the year, as "pissing cold". Icy gray drizzle. Not quite cold enough for snow, just cold enough for a young lad used to sunny California days to freeze his toes off. The good news: Frozen toes make excellent stocking-stuffers!

But I'm enjoying myself here. I am remembering something from my youth, and hopefully I'll find them again during my stay. Folks here in Europe are Gummi-obsessed. They go beyond the normal gummies of the bear variety. No, they branch out to other areas of the animal kingdom, and beyond. Gummi frogs? Sure! Gummi peaches? You bet! Gummi fried eggs? No problem! Tiny gummi representations of household appliances? We got 'em!

But best of all, in this holiday season, is the Gummi Manger. That's right, Joseph, Mary, the wise men, the animals in the manger, they're all here - and they're all Gummi! And what could say Christmas more than a tiny Christ Child rendered entirely in semi-opaque blue goo? And what could be more delicious than the bitten-off head of God's Only Son? I'll tell you what: Nothing. Nothing at all.

Merry Gummi X-mas, everybody.

--opus

posted by opus  at 4:57 AM

Belgium Bound

Well for those of you who don't know, my mother lives in Belgium. For those of you who also don't know, I live in Los Angeles. And for those of you who are truly stupid, those two places are very, very far away.

Nevertheless, I shall attempt the impossible and travel from Los Angeles to Brussels in less than a day, using ONLY planes, taxis, and busses. It may be difficult, but dammit, I'm game.

I'll be gone for two weeks (if you're going to rock Belgium, it takes at least a week) and I'm making a pit-stop in Connecticut on the way back. So I'll be online, but I may not be posting as much as I'd like. But you can send me letters. Letters of joy. Joyous, joyous joy.

Merry Christmasakkuh, everybody!

--opus

posted by opus  at 11:04 PM

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

posted by opus  at 3:33 PM

A fascinatingly sincere page devoted to one woman's portraits of Michael Jackson. Ever wanted to see a painting of Jacko embracing a topless Meg Ryan in a field? Here's your chance.

posted by opus  at 10:55 AM

Math Problem

During his press conference this morning, a reporter asked how Bush planned to handle the record deficit he was racking up for our country (I need not point out, of course, that when entering office Bush was facing a record surplus of money). Bush's reply was circuitous at best. He tried to justify his massive spending, saying we were in a time of war (which, I might grant him, if the war was just) and that he had to use spending measures to help the economy which was in a recession (wait.. did he just admit he drove us into a recession?)

But the best was when he said that he had to lower taxes in order to stimulate the economy in order to gain money in taxes to relieve the debt. Yes, that's right: Paying less taxes means paying more taxes.

Wow, that's the same sort of thinking that makes a loser of a presidential election a winner.

--opus

posted by opus  at 9:06 AM

A mixed-race woman says she is the late Strom Thurmon's child. From the foulest pits of hell, the late Senator replies, "No comment."

posted by opus  at 5:11 PM

God Bless Motherfucking America, Dammit. Also, God bless my massive motherfucking S.U.V.

posted by opus  at 3:39 PM

My Latest Brilliant Scheme

Friendster is fun, but now that I've got 100+ people on my friendster list, slogging through trying to meet new friends can be a pain. I'm connected to over 800,000 people, after all. I need a way to narrow it down.

So here is my new brilliant idea. It would be a web site like Friendster, but instead of just using Friends as methods of connectivity, it would use everything. All of your attributes. Where you live, your hobbies, your favorite music. It would jumble those all up and spit out people most like yourself. Using some algorythm or something.

You could also set it to make sure it only found, say, 20something females in Miluakee who like Herb Albert & the Tijuana Brass. But mostly the matching would be done behind the scenes, so you'd click on a button and it would factor in all of your degrees of connectivity and give you a response.

So... venture capitalists... wanna give me a couple million to develop this puppy?

--opus

posted by opus  at 1:06 PM

Some guy beats Super Mario 3 in 11 minutes. This person is the hero of the 13 year old me.

posted by opus  at 12:44 PM

Dick Cheney's Hunting Trip was like shooting fish in a barrel. Except, more literally, it was like shooting birds that could not escape. 70 of them.

Okay, in some small, weird part of my brain I can understand the allure of hunting. Not that I'd ever want to do it, mind you, but the idea of providing your own meal, tapping into some primal instinct... I get it. For some places in the country, it's a way of life, and if it's done safely it's ok.

But to get 70 birds, trapped, and just pick 'em off? What the fuck is that? That's like playing basketball with a golf ball. Sure you're gonna get it in the basket more, but is it any fun?

There are certain things is pays to put in extra work to do, Mr. Vice President. Like hunting. Or, say, Foreign Policy. Do a little extra, it'll be worth it, I promise.

posted by opus  at 10:16 AM

GunSmarty - if you need to get a gun, remember to get a racist gun.

posted by opus  at 7:13 PM

Are you pondering what I'm pondering, Pinky? I think so, Brain, but...

posted by opus  at 7:23 PM

Worf Sat On My Couch

Last night, my roommates threw a dinner party. Apparently they have a regular thing, once a month, with a group of friends. Everybody brings a dish, they eat, talk, swap recipies. It all seems suspiciously grown-up sounding. Last night it was their turn to host, so I was sucked into the Dinner Party Vortex.

The people were all very nice, charming folks, I just don't think I'm cut out for dinner parties. Small talk, mingling, all that... it just doesn't appeal to me at all. And since I was already an outsider in this group, it was even worse.

Oh, and the guy who played "Worf" on Star Trek was there. He sat on my couch. That's sorta weird.

I have a theory that as we grow older, we begin to try on adult behaviors. We wear adult clothing, throw adult dinner parties, talk about adult subjects. At first, we do it because it's funny - Look, I'm wearing a house dress and throwing a dinner party! Then eventually the habits take root and they're second nature. People don't grow up, they just forget how to be kids.

--opus

posted by opus  at 3:36 PM

Ann Coulter Talking Action Figure Are these suitable for use as a voodoo doll?

posted by opus  at 10:13 AM

Worst toys list.. I kinda lust after these, in the same way I kinda want to buy any CD with a Parental Warning label.

posted by opus  at 3:32 PM

Rumsfeld is a Bumbling Doofus

posted by opus  at 1:37 PM