And at the 3:52...

...And minus the spell check. Dipshit.

 

I can't update from the office computer. So this absolutely worthless post that I would relegate to the 11:11 is now rerelegated to whenever this actually smtps to the blogger servers. And your hearts!

 

Yesterday was the 11/11, as opposed to the 11:11 (which happens twice a day year round). For her birthday, I took Mom to Ground Kontrol where she obliterated the high score on Q*Bert. And Frogger. She dominates those games.

 

I've had pizza for the last three meals. Dinner, breakfast (leftovers), and now lunch. They say "you are what you eat," so I guess I'm a crusty, greasy motherfucker that smells like cheese. Yep, sounds right.

 

You know what I love more than the lemonade Rock Star beverages? That's right... nothing! I so enjoy the lemony goodness with the added bonus of shit ton levels of caffeine (wouldn't it be sweet if "shit ton" was actually a unit of measure and you could look it up inside of a Pee Chee? I think so). I'm so fucking wired at this point (two Rock Stars and instant coffees) that I haven't blinked in 45 minutes.

 

I gave up on my Fight Night: Lights Out video game purchase quest and ordered it off of Amazon. I've waited so long for that fucking game. I'll let the fates determine when I get to play it. And by "fates," I mean the Amazon won't get it to me until Christmas. I have a sense about these things.

 

Too black... too strong.

 

goochout

Douchebook Bingo/Drinking Game

"It's embarrassing. Who cares? If you wouldn't say it during a phone conversation, don't write it out." - Whitney Cummings

Friends:

I read Facebook, but not for the same reasons you do. I like to plunge into the depths in which some people will go to reach some sort of douchebag euphoria. I mean, the narcissism involved in assuming that all 600 of your friends might be interested in what you cooked for dinner, or what you're eating/drinking at the moment. I feel like I'm witnessing the douchebagging of America with the proliferation of reality television and social media creating a perfect storm.

And I'm a guy that's had a blog since 1999. That's right... I believed that shit I had to say was important to the masses. I actually started it when the college paper for which I wrote did not publish a piece that I'd written that I thought was pretty good (there were a few real shit-bombs that they did publish) and I felt it needed to be published. In 1999, it was a bit of an endeavor. I invented this while Harvard freshmen invented Facebook. Fuck me.

I'm a douchebag pioneer. A doucheneer, if you will. And you will.

And now, full self disclosure has reared its mass appeal head in the form of the latter of the two aforementioned internet phenomenons. I've noticed a theme, from which I wanted to make a drinking game or a bingo game. I call this the Facebook Status Update BINGO or Drinking Game.

Grab a bottle, twist the cap, and get your drink on with this fun filled game:

• Listing what they made/had for dinner. (2 shots)
• Promoting a multi-level marketing scheme in which they're involved. (3 shots)
• Writing a "wall to wall" message (other than a birthday) because the trivial conversation between them and a friend must be interesting to others.
• Copying and pasting a joke as if it was their own. (3 shots)
• Copying and pasting one of my jokes as if it was your own (put your head into a gas oven and just let go. Oh, while I take 3 shots).
• Posting a self taken picture of his or her self (2 shots)
• Posting a self taken picture of his or her self taken in a mirror (3 shots)
• Posting a self taken picture of themselves doing the "duck face" (4 shots)
• Any evidence of someone playing Farmville/Mafia or reading a fortune cookie (1 shot)
• Someone doing the horrific practice of changing their relationship status to "It's Complicated." (3 shots)
• Posting a status update that is clearly meant to bait people into asking "what's wrong?" or "what's going on?" (2 shots)

I think I'm procrastinating going to the gym. I think the volume of what I've written lately is directly related to my not wanting to work out. I've got to work on that.

Later.

goochout

In the land of the blind, the man with one eye is king...

...But in a 3D movie, the man with one eye is fucked.

 

I wrote that last bit a long time ago. I'm pretty sure I wrote it back when "twittering" meant etching things into small rocks and throwing them at people. However, I thought of it yesterday:

 

I was eating a sandwich while wiping barbecue sauce all over a USA Today. The USA Today that my Father, sitting next to me, had purchased only moments earlier. He hates it when I soil newsprint that he hasn't read yet. We share a newspaper at lunch because we both enjoy reading the news and avoiding conversation.

 

While reading, I came across a sentence so unnecessary and so stupid (it's big and bold at the bottom of the passage) that I broke the golden silence to share with Father. Now I share with you. Because I haven't done a lot of updates lately and this post can be a copy and paste rich environment.

 

Coming soon to a mall near you: 3-D glasses you can buy.

Manufacturer Oakley this week will release two pairs of 3-D glasses, in white and black, at $120 a pop. Marchon will follow with Calvin Klein 3-D glasses in December. Xpand's 3-D glasses are available for presale on Amazon.

"What we've invented gives a better experience," says Colin Baden, CEO of Oakley.

Marchon's Calvin Klein glasses are even more expensive, at $180 a pair. However, they double as photochromic sunglasses for inside or outside. (Real life will continue to be in 2-D, however.)

Real life is always in 3-D.

 

Full article: http://www.buzzbox.com/top/default/preview/3-d-glasses-coming-soon-from-oakley-marchon-and-xpand/?clusterId=2376335&id=12791271&topic=glasses%3Aoakley

 

 

goochout

It's Monday morning and the Rock Star isn't gonna pour itself...

Good Morning, my collective rays of sunshine.

I'm not a man of rituals. Hell, I'm barely a man. However, I've developed habit... patterns that I've started to notice.

I don't work nine to five. As I write this, I'm finishing up a computer from which I've exorcised the most ingrained of viral infections. Some people would have given up and simply backed up, formatted the hard drive and installed a fresh operating system installation. This, however, is my video game. Googling for solutions, trying out different tools, making notes of what works and what doesn't. I've got the final scan running on a machine at this very moment. If the scan comes up clean, my work is done. Damn, I could do this all day.

Oh yeah. I do.

Back to rituals. Monday mornings are about the same from week to week. I go out to dinner on Sunday, so Monday's breakfasts usually consist of leftovers. This morning's offering was a medley of Wu's Chinese (Sunday lunch) and El Sombrero Mexican (Sunday dinner). For a beverage: 16 oz. Rock Star energy drink out of the can. I like the Rock Star Recovery, a lemonade flavored product with a shit-ton full of caffeine.This morning I'm drinking the standard Rock Star sugar free. I really should not consume so much of the sugar free. Why I insist on putting chemicals as opposed to sugar into my system is a mystery, but I'm sure that diabetes can't come from aspartame. Or can it? I have no idea... I'm a doctor, not a computer tech.

Because I've shunned pay television in favor of internet delivered video, I don't have HBO or Showtime. My guilty pleasures (I call them that because if tried for media piracy, I'll be found guilty) consist of downloading Dexter and Boardwalk Empire, two shows I follow like a bon bon eating housewife watching All My Children. Or Oprah. Whatever the broads like. Because both shows air Sunday night, I wake up early Monday to download them and crawl back into bed. An app on my phone monitors the downloads remotely. Once they've downloaded, I watch each one from bed (except for today when I'm watching Boardwalk Empire on the left monitor while I type this on the right one).

Shit, it's getting late. The scan on the computer I'm working on finished. No viruses found. My work is done.

Time to go to work.