They've added a new feature to the Blogger system (in beta) which hosts the blog portion of this site. Look above and you'll see a search function. If you're a friend of mine, type in your name and see what adventures we've encountered over the last five years. Type in Nikki or Gregster (for example) and you'll get volumes of memories. It's pretty sweet.

***

I asked my Magic 8-Ball as to which email client I should use. It replied "Outlook not so good." Wow, even the 8-Ball is a Microsoft critic.

gooch:idiot

Picking up where Gregster left off:

From his website:

I'm in Seattle. I'm the only one in the office. I'm on the phone with our service guy in Roseburg and we're trying to upgrade the phone system. It's not working. It's 8:30. I want to go home. I'm sick.

I'm not going into work tomorrow.

And that's where I come in. I'll fill in for him in his employer's Portland office, where he normally resides. I am not an employee, but effectively have a desk next to him as we solve computer problems and eat sushi. He's the big picture guy and I'm the ad-hoc desktop support. It's like Batman and Robin without the underlying gay theme.

Except for the sushi. That is kind of gay.

Poor fucker. He's sick and I drank all of his DayQuil that he stashes at his desk. I suggest we switch to NyQuil and try to fight the fatigue while we interact with the end-users. Okay, maybe on casual Friday.

****
I woke up late for the gym this morning but I did go in for tanning and to weigh myself. A weighing that says I've lost officially 14 pounds in a little over a month (unofficially 20), acheiving my first goal. I guess crying yourself to sleep every night does burn calories.

****
Harvey Levin (the fucking man) on out of control celebrities
****
Every Christmas season there's some incident with a neglectful parent and a toddler. Here's this season's holiday treat:

Police: Mom takes dog, leaves kid in car at mall

gooch:out

CNN: James Kim walked 16 miles, not 10 as originally reported.

Wow, it was thought that the ten he walked was "superhuman." I'd have gone about 50 feet and died. My family would have seen me collapse and all grimaced and in unison said "God, what a pussy."

There's also currently three hikers stuck on Mount Hood. Every time Portland is the location of a news story, it's about someone getting consumed by the elements.

If you ain't ever been to the Pacific Northwest
Don't ever come to the Pacific Northwest
'Cause you ain't understand the Pacific Northwest
And stay the fuck out of the Pacific Northwest - From Naughy By Nature's "Everything's Gonna Be Alright"

It's dangerous out here. If the cable's out for ten minutes I'm on the phone with Red Cross and FEMA (one on the land line, the other on the cell).

goochout

I like watching shows that I used to watch as a kid. It's interesting to see television that I last saw as a child through my adult eyes. I'm a lot more cynical these days, although I try to see entertainment for what it is.


The A-Team: Four Vietnam vets, framed for a crime they didn't commit, help the innocent while on the run from the military. They're apparently "soldiers of fortune," but I seldom saw (if ever) cash exchange hands. I guess normally, a group like this would work for drug dealers looking to snuff out competition. They were never really helping out any profitable causes. Orphanages, poor farmers, people that couldn't possibly kick in enough cash to pay for B.A.'s sweet van, nor it's extensive audio/video surveillance equipment. I wrote something once that was a spoof on seventies and eighties decades crime fighting (called "The Genie," in the COLUMNS section above) and one of the elements that I spoofed was the "unexplained" sources of cash that this era of crime fighting seemed to have.

Mr T. as B.A. Barracus made me laugh as I watched an episode last week while I was sick. I mean, they're on the run from the military. Four guys wanted on a federal warrant and one of them is a 250 pound man with a mohawk and $30,000 worth of jewelry around his neck. If I was, say, Face or Hannibal, I'd drop the foo' or have a group meeting about the topic:

Yeah, um, B.A... we wanted to talk to you about the jewelry around your neck. See, we're wanted all over the country. We're keeping a high profile by solving peoples problems. It's not going to be long before someone notices that you resemble that mohawked black guy with 80 pounds of gold on the wanted poster. Maybe tone it down a bit?

I also loved that B.A was the surveillance expert yet he never noticed when the group was slipping him sleeping pills to get him on an aircraft. How'd he get to Vietnam with a fear of flying? It seemed like a lot of the conversations went like this:

A-Team: B.A., we're going to have to fly.
B.A.: I pity the foo' that tries to make me fly!
A-Team: Okay, that's fine. We'll figure something out. Oh, have this glass of milk.
B.A.: Okay, thanks. I like milk.
[B.A. falls asleep.]

You'd think after the 20th time this happened he'd not accept milk pre -poured for him after a request for him to fly.

Don't get me started on Night Rider.

gooch:out