Category: Uncategorized

How come the following scheisty sites containing the term “most boringest” are googlized while my site remains shunned. WTF and Waaaah!?!

Big, Left, Outside
… 15: She calls his previous cybersession with readers “the most boringest online
… Marianne Pearl: For the record, I don’t care who you write about … …
www.bigleftoutside.com/comments/3/p41.50 – 38k – Cached – Similar pages

The Pourhadi Perspective
… to use accelerometers to determine the coasters’ heights or record the G forces
… and staying true to its reputation as The Most Boringest Time Ever, …
www.pourhadi.com/ – 101k – May 14, 2005 – Cached – Similar pages

The Pourhadi Perspective
… Be Doing Something, and staying true to its reputation as The Most Boringest
Time Ever, I am incredibly bored. … Yes, daily. Because I have no life. …
www.pourhadi.com/index.php/C1/ – 97k – Cached – Similar pages

The Works of David Brin
… sharing constant danger while daily enduring their puckish, brilliant, idiotic,
… For the record, I reminded him that, contrary to explicit rules and …
www.gayspermbank.com/brin/theold.html – 24k – Cached – Similar pages

So Now Then
… I mean, they’re like the most boringest days of the week, are they not? …
because I would have been the absolute life of same! Most of the discussion …
www.sonowthen.net/0804.html – 115k – Cached – Similar pages

bad samaritan : the archives
… Ugh. This is probably one of the most boringest posts ever to be … posted
… This has touched everyone’s life, even in the most tangential of ways. …
www.badsamaritan.com/original/archives/2001_09.php – 175k – Cached – Similar pages

mountaineer musings
… move right along, please; perhaps my daily I Miss Frank post is more your bag,
… anyway, that was the most boringest 1.5 hours of my entire life. …
mountaineermusings.com/index.php?m=200410 – 377k – Cached – Similar pages

Big Orange Michael
… “This will be the most boringest part of the day,” he tells us both since no
one is home. … The crowd was a record-setting one for a Titans’ game. …
bigorangemichael.blogspot.com/ 2004_09_01_bigorangemichael_archive.html – 243k – Cached – Similar pages

Lessons in Love
… “I had PE and it was the most boringest hour of my entire life; I knew …
a record for you so that didn’t really help matters either.” Rory admitted …
chilton.smithereen.net/f_lessons.html – 125k – Cached – Similar pages

The Entroporium: Keeping up with the indie kids Archives
… they’ve raced up my personal hot list to pretty darn near daily play. …
GBV makes its most commercial record ever, “Do The Collapse,” in an obvious …
www.entroporium.com/blog/archives/ music/keeping_up_with_the_indie_kids/ – 77k – Cached – Similar pages

……….I’m ecstatic to learn that more internet jockeys prefer www.gayspermbank.com than my page.

This song’s X-treme CORN but I can’t really call it bad. It attempts to be clever (i.e. some beach sounds like sum’bitch) and the chorus is quite catchy. I’m ashamed to say that I kind of enjoy it. Another property of the following, that assures its classification as country in spite of the accompanying music behind it that is actually soft rock, is that 2 of the 3 verses involve situations with cars. The second even makes an explicit reference about a particular type of car. I wonder if DaimlerChrysler Corp., manufacturers of Mercedes Benz autos, gets royalties for the reference? Anyway, for your sake Blake, I hope you used the name with permission. If not, you better get your ass covered! Them corpos would love to take a juicy bite out of your song revenue in addtition to gaining the free publicity for their product that you generously provided for them.

Here it is:

Driving down the interstate
Running thirty minutes late
Singing Margaritaville and minding my own
Some foreign car driver dude with the road rage attitude
Pulled up beside me talking on his cell phone
He started yelling at me like I did something wrong
He flipped me the bird an’ then he was gone

Some beach
Somewhere
There’s a big umbrella casting shade over a empty chair
Palm trees are growing and a warm breezes a blowing
I picture myself right there
On Some beach, somewhere

I circled the parking lot trying to find a spot
Just big enough I could park my old truck
A man with a big cigar was getting into his car
I stopped and I waited for him to back up
From out of no where a Mercedes Benz
Came cruising up and whipped right in

Some beach
Somewhere
There’s no where to go when you got all day to get there
There’s cold margaritas and hot Senioritas smiling with long dark hair
On some beach
Somewhere

I sat in that waiting room
It seemed like all afternoon
The nurse finally said doc’s ready for you
you’re not gonna feel a thing we’ll give you some novocain
That tooth will be fine in a minute or two
But he stuck that needle down deep in my gum
And he started drilling before I was numb

Some beach
Somewhere
There’s a beautiful sunset burning up that atsmosphere
There’s music and dancing and lovers romancing
In the salty evening air
On some beach
Somewhere
On some beach, somewhere

[Blake Shelton – Some Beach]

[Ain’t] Nobody gonna slow me down
Whoa no!
I got to keep on movin’

[The mariachi version I much prefer. Unfortunately, my Espanol is insufficient to properly translate it].

This week will prolly be a bit rough… prolly. I’m not going to let it phase me though. Happy will be my mood state; it is my decision.

Yesterday night I had much frustration to vent:

1) Alleged back taxes the state of Oregon department of Revenue believes that I owe it for the 3 months I worked in California before moving to Portland in 2002.
2) Portland fire department charging me for a fire inspection that they performed in, what is now, my practice space more than a year before my occupancy.
3) Measuring and sorting 3 gigs of data that I collected over the past three years so that my boss can analyze it after my departure.
4) Several pieces of equipment in the lab that have failed for various reasons (mostly spontaneous in nature) within the past month.
5) Steady influx of medical bills for tests that I had a few months ago. Most of the bills don’t even include an explanation/justification of the charges. And, after all those tests, I’m not one iota better off than I had been before them.

It’s a good thing I have loud things to pound on on a regular basis. Sometimes I think, that without them, I’d resort to pounding on people.

My pent up frustration fueled a series furious syncopated beats the likes of which few other bands, especially one band in particular that practices on the other side of the wall, can even come close to emulating. My band, Clap Amp, generates 100% raw, and primarily improvisational, noise for which we make no apologies. We’re crass, we’re base and we pride ourselves on mocking musical convention (…what an original claim that is). Several times last night, the entire studio floor, the walls on which, ordinarily contoring under the strain of heavy vibration generated by three or four separate bands in simultaneous practice, fell silent to Clap Amp’s grooves. Don’t get me wrong. I make no claim that Clap Amp is the best band on the block in the traditional sense. However, whatever we may lack in ability, we more than make up for in enthusiasm.

Update!!! Check our TRMW‘s recent post about Clap Amp.

Friggin’ spreadsheets have sucked out all of my eye-juice. I can’t write a good post right now… too distracted, and too brain-numbed. The only way to work is to singly devote my brain to attention and nothing more. Creativity causes disturbs my systematicity.

When I’m nervous I attempt to use big words. I say “attempt” because I often use big words with different actual meanings than what I intend to convey.

My prospective replacement is interviewing this morning and I made the above bad word choice. I don’t think she noticed, but all the same I feel like such the dipshit. Giving interviews, for me, is much harder than being interviewed.

Plus, as further proof that God really does hate my ass, the first computer I switched on this morning, to show our interviewee the programs that I’ve developed in support of my much touted-by-boss technical prowess, hard-drive crashed like a motherfuckin’ bastard. What are the odds that on this particular morning, out of the hundreds of times I’ve walked in and turned the muv on in the same manner, coupled with the fact that the sum’bitch was running fine two days ago, that the FUCKER crash. I’m not superstitious but GOLLY!

Yesterday, I needed to prove to myself that I’m not as out of shape as I think I am and alternatively, that two years back I was not the ubermench my nostalgia tricks me into thinking I was. To do that I decided I would attempt my old “Agony Run” in reverse (SE 20th to 60th and back via Salmon, Belmont, and Stark). Even though I experienced about 120% agony during my run yesterday, I figure that, in comparison to my true “Agony Run” that starts at 60th, yesterday’s was not of equal difficulty since, by starting at 20th, the first half of the run was uphill, as opposed to the actual version where the uphill portion happens during the second half.

One good thing, for which I must credit my job, is that, provided I’m caught up with work and I have enough vacation time in reserve, I can take off days to replenish my morale. In grad school I will not be so fortunate.

These images ‘move’ without animation. Happy nauseum!!!

I went back to Woodland CA this weekend to visit my family, and the last of my friends that have stuck it out there amidst prohibitively high rent, rampant conservatism and an almost complete lack of interesting things to do. Friday night turned out to be a warm, clear night (I’m used to Portland weather now so I’m easy to impress) so I decided to setup my telescope in my Dad’s backyard and took a looksee at what, I thought was Venus, and a few consellations. After that I went relaxed in the hot tub. Believe me, I did not enjoy such lavish living growing up… For the first time in his professional life, my Dad’s company has actually been able to generate surplus revenue for more than two consecutive years. What does my Dad do with this spare money? Buy toys.

My girlfriend Jane went with me this trip. My family loves her. I think they enjoy seeing her more than they do me.

I have a fairly nice bike that, prior to this visit, never made its way to Portland. So, while I was there, I broke it down, put it in a box so it could be flown back to P-town with me. My Dad took to riding my bike after I moved, and while riding it one day, the rear tire blew out on him which ended up bending the back rim a good inch out of center. If I want a bike with rear brakes I’m going to have to get the rim straightend. Otherwise my bike is rideable. I plan to ride, instead of drive around Portland this summer, during my time off.

The only real drama that took place during the entire weekend happened on Sac International airport on our way home. A Southwest baggage taker, after verifying with me that the contents of the 5’x3’x8″ double ply cardboard box that I had with me was, in fact, a bike, charged me $50 for it to be transported as baggage; we only had one other piece that we were checking in so I expected to be charged a maximum of $25 if the box turned out to be “oversized” by thier classification. Anyway, after his corpo-metrosexual ass repremanded me for having not put it in a hard case, he informed me that Southwest would not be liable for loss or damage.

“What the fuck are you going to do with it that requires a hard case and a transport fee of $50!?!… blast it into space? Shove your policy up your cornhole, fuckwipe!” I bit my tongue to keep from saying, to prevent my becoming the next outraged antagonist on TVs reality show “Airport”. The Southwest website stated a $25 fee for oversized baggage. I scowered the fuck out of thier site and didn’t find a G-darn thing about bikes being fiddy. Man, I wish I could be responsible for NOTHING and get paid for it. FuckASSes! (It made the trip ok though, so I’ll cease my rant in this otherwise happy post).

… to the living, breathing hypocricy who is blogspot user Shay, for best personifying my reasons for Getting the Fuck out of California!!! Shay, I hope your conservative lifestyle in Fair Oaks, and mischief filled weekends at Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk entailing $400 “all night hang out” propositions from Daly City Fucktards is “completing” you. Keep up the great work! I hope to learn from more from your extensive wisdom in the future.

Let me just make one minute request, please stop your, albeit considerate, warnings to my good friend Crapartist about his afterlife of eternal torment. All of us venom spewing atheists know that we’re hellbound. For Crapartist though, your dogma fuels him to do, well, crazy things. Thanx 😉