InASense, Lost… Commercials For Quote-Unquote Religions

I remember being a lad of about 29 years old, and I finally gathered the nerve to ask my mom, “Where do babies come from?”

I often think back to my childhood, and remember Saturday mornings as a kid.  Rolling out of bed from underneath my taped together Garbage Pail Kid posters.  Grabbing a box of Cocoa Krispies and the biggest bowl I could handle.  Turning on the TV without a remote control because we had none.  Zoning out to crappy yet awesome cartoons and the commercials that sold me on Transformers and Star Wars and Centurions and M.A.S.K. with little to no effort.  Then there would come along one of these ads:

Granted, it’s not one of the most heartwarming, but very often, they’d catch me by surprise and effect me on a personal level.  Gee, maybe I should help my neighbor shovel the snow instead of throwing snowballs at them from my fort, I might consider.  What I didn’t realize at the time was that it was a COMMERCIAL FOR A RELIGION!  If I wasn’t born and raised Roaming Recovering Roman Catholic, seeing Jesus H. Christ’s name up there might have been a red alert, but I was, so it didn’t.  (Also, I wasn’t raised in a way that told me we were the only ones that were right, so at least I had that going for me.)

So now this little vid is making it’s way around the web.  I recieved it via a link in an email from frequent idea spurner Dave, and I watched it in similar wonder to the old LSD, er, I mean LDS commercials.  It was beautiful, and in fact made me happy to be alive.  Damn YouTube and their header captions:

I guess what I’m saying is it’s much more effective than this old thang:

In other words, how can so many inches of Tom Cruise can be wrong?  (My guess: 60 of his 67…)

InASense, Lost… “Hi, My Name Is Sean, And I’m A Webaholic”

In deciding between calling myself a netaholic or a webaholic, it was only then that I realized the similarities between a “net” and a “web,” and I wondered if such naming was on purpose, but I digress…

Allow me to reiterate.  I.  Am.  Addicted.  To the TripleDoubleU.  (I was tired of using these “.” for a moment.)

I’d like to blame it on the stock market crashing and I will.

See, I work in IT, and just like how a stripper doesn’t enjoy bringing her work home (maybe that was a bad example), I wasn’t too keen on doing much on the web once I got home.  I had five blogs I regularly read, and I played on the Hollywood Stock Exchange (my user name is TakeOne if interested).  Otherwise I did banking and billing (and occasional drunk purchases on Amazon or DeepDiscount).

But when the market crashed and EVERYONE panicked, my company’s clients held their breath and stopped calling, and I was suddenly left with a lot of free time on my hands.  I never got into MyBook or FaceSpace, so I started checking out this whole blogging thing.  Voila!  MonkeyBlogMonkeyDo was born.

But now I’m in a bit of a crisis.  Over the last six months, I’ve kinda developed a needto be online.  First off, I have way more than five blogs to read on a daily basis.  Plus I have two (and sometimes more if I feel like it) of my own to tend to.  Throw in my recent crippling desire to Twitter, and it’s borderline unbearable.  For example, how am I supposed to watch TV and DVD’s without a functioning laptop on top of my lap (functioning = online).

Where the major crisis stems from is the fact that the neighbor’s wifi I’ve been “borrowing” seems to have been cancelled.  I believe this started April 1st, and I’m beginning to lose my mind.

I live in Detroit, and my only option for a provider is Comcast, and I can’t stand Comcast (although I do love their new commercials).  So here I sit.  Writing this blog.  Using dial-up.

Maybe I need to get this (click here to take you to the site because I couldn’t post it via dial-up!):

The Innernette! It all fits on one CD!

The Innernette! It all fits on one CD!

 Also, I feel a kindred spirit in last season’s South Park episode, “Over Logging.”  If you haven’t seen it, check it out here.  Just be warned – there is a very gross scene that even Trey Parker couldn’t believe they got away with putting on TV.

Okay, sure, maybe I’m just being whiny, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t find it fair that no one else but Comcast has upgraded lines in my area to give us consumers some options. 

mjusayin

Do We Live In A Uri-Nation?

I have never raced back to the office in such a hurry to post something so juvenile.

As I left a client, taking the back alley, across the street further down the alley, I saw this:

(Not So) Artistic Representation

(Not So) Artistic Representation

 At first, I wondered if it was a small child sitting on a ball, or if it was a person at all and my mind might be playing tricks on me, but nope!  The being in question stood up and drew up their drawers.  Yes!  I had witnessed public… something… and I needed to further investigate.

I had already turned away from the alley, so the next step was to turn down the following street.  Why such levels of curiosity?  I needed to know, for some reason, whether it was a dude dropping a deuce (because it’d be gross that he didn’t wipe) or a lass writing her name in Sanskrit (which is still kinda gross about the whole wiping thing).

As I may my left turn in a hurry, I spotted the culprit taking her seat on the brownstone’s front steps.  She was on her cell phone and it appeared, by my summation, not to be a new call!  Movers were taking things into the house around her, so why didn’t she relieve herself inside?

Was she afraid of getting caught with her pants down?

JusWondering… Whatever Happened To Jazzercise?

I stopped by the video store I used to work at last night to visit my brother, Scott, (and to pick up Friday the 13th: Parts 1 and 2 ‘natch).  As I looked around, I kind of missed the old joint.  And it wasn’t so much the unlimited access to all the DVD’s (considering I have way more than enough at home), but it was the strange things that used to happen there.

One common occurrence was us workers would be talking about some random old film, and shortly thereafter someone would return that exact film.  There are plenty of things I could go on about, but maybe I’ll save that for another post.

I stopped by on my way to soccer, and my sister’s fiance Will (the Monk Lookalike) happened to be up there at the same time.  Weird.

My old friend and former manager, Crystal, brought up the fact she stumbled upon pictures of a trip a huge group of us took to Chicago years and years ago.  A few days ago, the very same trip was brought up by some of the others that been on it.  Kinda weird.

As I was walking out, some dude was looking at the Coming Attractions booklet that’s stacked on the end of the counter.  Our exchange:

Dude – “Dude, I can’t believe it’s coming out.”

Crystal, Scott, and I keep talking to each other.

Dude – “I knew it was going to be called Still Waiting.  It’s coming right to DVD.”

Me – “So you’re still waiting for Still Waiting.”

Dude gave me the thumbs up.  He showed me this picture:

...Let's wait someplace else...

...Let's wait someplace else...

I laughed.  “I thought Still Waiting was a suspense movie, like (*spooky voice*) Stiiiilllll Waaaaaiiitttiiinnggg.  Not the sequel.”  Scott and Crystal laughed, and I went on my merry way.

(SIDENOTE: Weird things happen all the time if you pay attention.  Another example occurred a couple days ago.  I passed this store named “NEVETS” and I realized it was STEVEN backwards.  This made me think of my cousin, and how he’s been watching old “Twilight Zone” episodes lately.  Right after that, the radio played the show’s theme in a commercial.)

twilight-zone

How many times do I have to tell you to CLEAN THIS ROOM UP!

(ANOTHER SIDENOTE: At trivia the other night, I teased my friend, Devin, who was hosting the game, by calling my team, “I’ll Be Teaching Jazzercise after the Show.”  His clothing choices were a bit 80’s, so when he had to announce our name, it made us laugh.  But it spooked the ladies who were playing at the table next to us.  Our exchange:

Lady – “That was you guys who made that name?”

Me – “Yeah, because of how Devin’s dressed.”

Lady (pointing to her friend) – “We thought it was because we just joined a Jazzercise group, and had our first class earlier tonight.”  At which point she opened her coat to reveal her Jazzercise logo emblazoned t-shirt.

You got to love the Symphony of Life.)

jazzercise

Come on and shake that azz for me, shake that azz for me!

Happy Find… A Van Face

On the drive into work, I was stuck behind one of these vans:

Like this, but old and dirty, so not like this.

Like this, but old and dirty, so not like this.

I was bumming a bit, then I noticed a face staring back at me.  The shades in the rear-tinted windows looked like eyelids.  The license plate was its teeth/tooth.  The break lights were rosy cheeks, and the rusted deadbolt was a nose.  The ladders, or whatever the junk was, on top made up the face’s hair. 

It made me smile.

(Not So) Artistic Representation

(Not So) Artistic Representation

JusWondering… What Yesterday Wrought

Believe me when I say I was going to bore you with the details of my yesterday in comparison with what I expected it to be two days ago.  You know that whole random winter Tuesday/Wednesday gag.  So instead, I’m only going to bore you with highlights.

I’ll just note that things weren’t too far off from what I predicted as well as not at all the same!

  • I started moving at 6:01 am (alarm clock time), which means I ignored one whole minute.  Not a good start.
  • I ended up having a morning that was beyond snooze happy, and had to cut out some of the morning essentials.  I still ate a Pop Tart with  organic milk (Brown Sugar Cinnamon won).
  • On the road, the only construction I ran into was right by my house.  I did get sleepy around Bowling Green, so I stopped at Meijer for a candy bar.  (It was a Milky Way bar, since they were out of Reese’s Fast Breaks… I fear this treat’s days are numbered.)
  • I quickly gave up the notion of seeing a Denny’s for my free breakfast.  I thought they might not exist in Ohio.  I did end up getting a free lunch, though (the company’s VP bought me a bar burger from the joint next door).
  • Things were going well.  I only had to run two network cable lines.  There was a slight struggle getting the router and the modem to communicate, but overall, it looked like I was leaving early…
  • The Snag.  I knew in my gut that there was going to be one, but I figured it would have to do with the wiring or a pc issue.  Better yet.  The router I went down to Findlay to install was to unite the offices so their printers would work better.  This was the reason for the visit.  The router I had no longer came with this feature included.  In fact, it could no longer even be purchased as an add-on.  This meant I had to find a VPN router replacement stat.  Unfortunately, the closest store to carry it was in Toledo.  Here’s some maps:
Between office and store.

Between office and store.

 

Between office and home.
Between office and home.

 

  •  Bonus Potential Snag.  The key given to me to get back in since the workers would be gone was the wrong key.  Luckily someone was still there.  Whew!
  • While I was waiting for printer files to install, I did get to work on a post for Old Men at the Bar.  The computer seized up on me, and I feared all was lost!  Only a little was lost.
  • I finally got back on the road home about 7 pm.  It was three hours later than I anticipated.  On my way back I stopped in Bowling Green to get gas and a Mt. Dew from Meijer.  The Dew tasted like it was mixed with some paint thinner, or something, but I was thirsty. 
  • As I neared the Ohio/Michigan border, I saw a billboard for an upcoming Denny’s.  In Toledo.

Snow Jobs Blow (P.S. – You Suck)

I know I’ve mentioned my yearly battles with the Detroit postal service before (read here).  But considering the last time I’ve shovelled my snow was over a month ago, I expected the battle to heat up – and it did.

For those that didn’t believe me about the “notes” I get from the postpeople:

Mail... I don't need no stickin' mail!

Mail... I don't need no stickin' mail!

Now, I understand why they would want it cleared, but I’m hardly home, and by the time I could get to any cleaning, a path is already trampled which only makes the scooping more difficult.  Plus, if I can’t get to the pavement, what remains is waaaaay more slippery than chunking through the drift.

There was a time when I enjoyed getting junk mail.  It made me feel like I was a part of something bigger, like I existed that day.  These days I do mostly everything online, so mail gets me excited not-so-much.  About all I need the USPS for is package delivery, which I’m promptly switching to my address at work.  Take a peek why:

img_1067

What a drag...

InASense, Lost… Toys Are Not For Wii Ones

My sister, Tammie, had a good chortle guffaw chuckle when she heard me ask this one time:

Hey Chris, what does it mean when my Wii’s glowing blue?

She lost it, and upon thinking how ridiculous it sounded out of context, others joined her giggles, myself included.  As it turns out, she may slowly be turning into my foil.

Let me further explain.

Last night, one of my friends stopped by with his two sons.  They’re cute enough, nice enough kids, but where my friend made the mistake was to inform his children that I had toys.

What I have are not toys.  They’re collectibles.  Two totally different things.

Upon arriving, and not expecting them to stay long as I had mentioned plans to head to trivia, the boys whipped off their scarves and knit caps and bundled coats and proclaimed, “Where’s the toys?”

I begrudgingly lead the trio back to my DVD room (yes, they have their own room… they kinda require a room when they reach 1200+).  In there, I have Indiana Jones figures, Lego playsets, Transformers, and Matt Trakker of M.A.S.K. re-released as a G.I. Joe, all in their packages.  Of course, the first thing to reached for is Trakker.

“I know how to put this together,” the oldest proclaimed.

“So do I,” was my response as I put it back.

On one of the cabinets, I have some open figures on display which include mini Ninja Turtles, mini Transformers, a mini Grimlock cartoon figure that does not move, and both versions of Bumblebee from the Michael Bay movie.

They moved onto these collectibles, and within minutes, Grimlock was in pieces (I don’t think he’s supposed to come that much apart, if even at all), the rubberbands holding the weapons in the Turtles’ hands were snapped, and the ’77 Camaro Bumblebee was being stabbed by his own laser sword.

I have learned patience through all the years of working with computers, but when it comes to children—

My friend kept talking to me and I kept thinking, doesn’t he see what they’re doing?  The youngest had to go #2 and took Raphael with him.  Raphael!  RAPHAEL?!

When they were finally getting packed up to ship out, I told my friend he could visit with them again in about 10 years.

Now back to Tammie.  As I recounted the situation to her, she just laughed at me again.  The definition of a foil according to Answers.com:

One that by contrast underscores or enhances the distinctive characteristics of another: “I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me” (Charlotte Brontë).

She said, “You do realize you’re complaining about children playing with your toys.”

I still can’t find Grimlock’s lower jaw.

InASense, Lost… 80’s Pop Culture Reference That I Missed

My sister, Becky, recently started a blog about things she learns everyday called SomethingKnew.  Since I’m usually forgetting things, I thought I’d pay tribute to her site by recounting something new that I learned.

Today, I discovered the origin of a nickname I received when working overnight at Target.  I didn’t even know there was a basis for the moniker.  Whereas most of the other overnighters bounced around departments in the store, my only job was to take care of Plastics – the unpacking and organizing of all large Rubbermaid and Sterilite containers.  I always had a bunch of cardboard by morning, and the trash compactor runner guy, Greg, used to call me Baby Plas.  He called my friend, John, the Gordon Fisherman for some unknown reason, and my friend, Rodney, simply Dangerfield out of necessity, I guess. 

And I didn’t think much about it.  I thought it was just an odd yet obvious choice.  (For example: if I was dubbed, say, the Trix Rabbit, I would have wondered where it came from, much like I did with John the Gordon Fisherman.)  Somewhere inside me, I resigned to the fact that it teetered on the Dangerfield zone of unoriginality.

Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this facet of pop culture that escaped me:

Baby Plas was a reference to “The Plastic Man Comedy/Adventure Show.”  Baby Plas was Plastic Man’s baby.  I worked with plastics.  I was more the Gordon Fisherman than John would ever be.  I was more Dangerfield in every sense of the word.

And I missed basking in the nickname. 

For shame.

Sober Recollection… Going, Gothic, Gone!

Last night I went out for my friend, Jenny’s, 30th birthday.  We went to a goth industrial night club in Detroit called the (Leland) City Club:
Like Blade rave minus vampires and blood shower, I think

Like the rave in "Blade" minus vampires and blood shower, I think

We arrived late by my standards (courtesy of the snow and collected company), but it’s primarily an afterhours spot, so to the regulars, we were probably early.  Since it was midnight, I could have either pounded as many bottles as possible, or keep my mind clear for people watching.  Speaking of clear…

  • Upon arrival, I thought “I’ll keep my mind clear,” and I saw a dude in a clear shirt.  Then a grand woman passed by that put the BOOST in bustier, and I thought, “Biiiig.”  Then a woman no taller than 4′ followed her, and I thought, “Smaaaall.”
  • On the telly above the bar, this scene from “Superbad” was playing.  Notice the wound on McLovin’s cheek at the end… is it CGI?  It sure looks like it was digitally added, and I never noticed until last night:
  • A woman sat on a dude’s lap in the corner, straddling and facing him.  There was no movement, per sé, but I wondered if they were doing the deed.  I brought this up to another friend, Lisa, and she suspected the same.  It wasn’t until moments later that I saw them both smoking side-by-side that my suspicions were confirmed.
  • The electric chandelier above us had energy-efficient coiled black light bulbs:

Like this, but purple
Like this, but purple
  • There was a dude that looked like an elf, and a dude/dudette (?) that looked like an anime character, amongst many other things.  I pondered what percentage of people here partook in the Renaissance Festival (nice alliteration… at least the first part).  Since two people in our group of eleven had, it was fare to assume they weren’t alone.
  • I wasn’t surprised to find out that I knew some of the music (Ministry, Depeche Mode).  I was surprised to smell fabric softener coming off someone’s black hoodie with the anarchy logo on it:
Smells like Snuggle

Smells like Snuggle

  • I learned that my brain may be wired like that of a moth, as my eyes were wont to follow any bright light in the form of glow sticks, light up yoyos, and a shirt like this (the sound bars actually moved):
See the music, taste the light!

See the music, taste the light!

  • Finally, my nerdery outstepped itself by conjuring up reference to an obscure “Star Wars” character no one in my group knew, as there was a guy who looked exactly like this, save the green pigmentation… and his hair was in a bun:
"How do I get to Detroit? Is it on Hoth?"

"How do I get to this... Detroit? Is it on Hoth?"

(Sorry BillyGoatBluff, but it was another sober night.)