Huh?

I have a Blackberry. However, I have not yet learned all of its little tricks and nuances. This is partially due to my own laziness, and partially in an effort to frustrate Ismael.

At any rate, today I got a little graphic in the upper right corner where the missed calls and voicemails show up. The missed call graphics are like an X, and the voicemails are an envelope. But the graphic I have right now is a smiley face. It says I have one smiley face, with an asterisk. Whatever the hell it is, it doesn't show up in my emails or as a text message. I don't know where the fuck to locate this thing.

Please, somebody, tell me what the hell is going on.

This One's For You, Utah

I'm Barry F'ing Gibb!



Also, here's the new one from Andy Samberg and JT. Not as good as "Dick in a Box," (which they actually admit during the song), but still pretty dec:

Stay of Execution

I watch a lot of television shows, and much of what I watch tends to be quirky, serialized sci fi/fantasy with low ratings and cult status. As a result, most tend to be on the chopping block when the networks have to make their renew or cancel decisions. Shows like Angel, Veronica Mars, and Wonderfalls all got the axe while I was watching; I wasn't part of Firefly when it was on the air, but that was another travesty that happened to a show I now love. There are many other shows I watched when they started that all got cancelled, so many I can't even remember their names. Spring is nice, but it is also where my shows go to die.

This year appeared headed for a fate worse than most. The number of shows I watch regularly increased significantly this year, even after I gave up on Heroes for good. Some shows were pretty popular and were guaranteed renewals (Lost, The Office, and to a lesser extent, 30 Rock), so I knew about those in advance. I just started watching Supernatural, and that got an early renewal notice as well. Good news on those fronts.

But there are several others I feared for dead: Dollhouse, Joss Whedon's struggling but promising new show on FOX, Castle, the new ABC mystery/crime show starring Nathan Fillion (Mal) which I really really enjoyed, Reaper, the CW's fairly entertaining Kevin Smith-style comedy/fantasy show, and Chuck, NBC's wildly entertaining spy comedy show. The news was grim for most, made all the more frustrating by the fact that Heroes got an early renewal notice. No accounting for horrible, horrible taste, I guess.

But here we are at the zero hour, and the news is incredibly good.

Chuck got renewed!

Castle got renewed!

Even Dollhouse got renewed!

Still waiting for word on Reaper. I had heard this was dead in the water for a long time, but now there may even be hope on that front.

Quite a relief...

The Great Debate

Thanks to PH for forwarding this. Witness the greatest theological debate of our times, as played out on signs at two opposing churches:

http://evilbeetgossip.film.com/2009/05/05/just-because-21/

Why Did the Turtle Cross the Road? UPDATED

Word of advice - don't believe everything you read. Contrary to Ismael's tweeting earlier in the day, I did not kill a turtle. I ran over a turtle, but I didn't kill it. This was the scene - We were on our way into Portage, driving down Highway 33. I saw what looked like a rock in the road. It was big, kinda grayish. But I thought I could drive over it without a problem. So I did. Except, right when I got within a foot of the thing, I learned it was a turtle. A frickin' giant-ass turtle at that. A moment later, I was over it. The car definitely scraped a long the turtle. But it wasn't dead. In fact, I looked in the rearview, and noticed that the turtle was still walking around afterward. It was probably shitting itself, certainly. But not dead.

But now we have an answer to an age-old question:

Why did the turtle cross the road?

To get the fuck out of Portage. For realz.

UPDATE: 2 hours later, on the drive back, we saw the turtle. It was now clearly dead. Lying on its back on the side of the road, guts ripped out. I swear, I didn't do it.

The Whirlwind

Ever have that feeling where you've suddenly stepped into some alternate reality, where everything that happens is surreal and awesome? We had one of those moments about an hour ago. PH and I had just left the mall, where we had purchased some clothing, a new suit, and a couple of frothy beverages. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the air was warm and pleasant. We had walked there, and we started walking back. We walked along the parking lot behind JC Penneys, just passing the Chilis, and contemplating how to spend the rest of the beautiful day.

Just then, the wind picked up. Soon it became difficult to walk or speak. Debris battered us like stinging hail. For a moment, I seriously considered trying to duck and cover, it was so ridiculous. But we kept going, past the area behind the Boston Store where the cars were parked, into the barren wasteland of a parking lot As we marveled at the force of the wind, a shopping cart appeared across the lot, moving of its own accord. It raced toward us as though by jet propulsion. It had apparently escaped the Cub Foods area, and was on a mission to destroy. First it was just bizarre, then it was a little scary, as it was seriously moving toward us. Then its trajectory carried it past us, and it was hilarious. But then we realized it was heading for the rows of parked cars, and it had a serious head of steam going.

Making a snap decision, I dropped my new suit bag on the ground and chased after the cart. I only had sandles on, making it a little difficult to run, but I sprinted after it and began gaining ground. But the cart was still about fifty feet ahead, with about fifty feet before it would smash into the side of a car. I put the burners on and snagged that sucker about fifteen feet short of hitting the car.

After taking a moment to process, I walked the car back towards PH, who by now was laughing gregariously at the absurdity of it all. I couldn't help but join her. Strangely, the wind had all but disappeared by then. And although it reared its head again later during the walk back, it remained pretty still as we marched the intrepid shopping cart back to the Cub cart corrals.

Now we're just left with questions. Mainly, WTF? Also, was what I did heroic? Well, it depends on what you...yes, of course it was. In fact, it was a lot like Xander Cage chasing down Ahab and plunging it into the river, except I didn't deploy my harpoon. It was one of those defining moments that comes along once in a decade or so, and you have to decide for yourself whether to let the magically speeding shopping cart go and put a sizeable dent in someone's car, or whether you have to chase it down and corral that motherfucker. I chose the latter.

Someday, you may have to choose for yourself.

Act of Contrition

I'm willing to admit when I've been wrong. Previously, I scoffed at the idea of seeing the movie Knowing. Now, having seen it, I apologize to all of my friends who knew better. Most of all, I apologize to Nicolas Cage for ever doubting him. Let me break it down like this:

If you want to see a good movie, do not see Knowing.

If you want to see a great movie, absolutely do not see Knowing.

If, however, you want to see an AMAZING movie, then this is the movie for you. Where does the awesomeness start, you ask? Sure, it's got Nic Cage's ridiculous over-acting. (Witness him bashing a baseball bat against a tree and shouting, "You want a piece of this?" at the aliens. Then try not to die laughing.) But that's just the tip of the good-ass iceberg. You want flaming elk? You got it. How about alien angels? Done. Nic Cage running around looking bewildered? Hell yeah there is. But what about math, you ask? Believe me, there's math. There's shitloads of math.

What more do you need?

Another Way to Ride Dirty

Ever heard the song "Come On Get Higher" by Matt Nathanson? It's that same type of pleasant little acoustic rock song that gets so much play these days on the pop stations, the type that I just can't stand. At first glance, it's all about love and faith, presented in a syrupy sweet package of earnestness. At second glance, however, it's about something quite different. At least I think so, anyway. I'm going to post some lyrics, you tell me if you agree:

"Come on get higher
loosen my lips
faith and desire
and the swing of your hips
just pull me down hard
and drown me in love

I feel the pull of your heart
I taste the sparks on your tongue
I see angels and devils and god when you come on
hold on...

come on get higher
loosen my lips
faith and desire
and the swing of your hips
just pull me down hard
and drown me in love

come on get higher
loosen my lips
faith and desire
and the swing of your hips
just pull me down hard
and drown me
drown me in love

it's all wrong
it's all wrong
it's all wrong, its so right."

Okay, now take another look, and try to tell me this song's not about cunnilingus.

Because it totally is.

Ultimate My Ass

I'm sure you've all noticed a changing landscape regarding the sizing/labelling of products over the past 5 years or so. Like fast food chains that dropped the term "small," and now they have large, extra large, and colon-buster. I can understand that, as this is America, dammit, and we don't want no small nothin'. Then there's Starbucks, with sizes tall, grande, and venti. Of course, "tall" actually refers to small, and "grande" is medium. Same concept, only trendier, I guess.

But how about labels that just don't make sense? Today I stopped at a gas station/car wash. There were four different levels of car-washing I could choose from. From lowest quality wash to highest, those levels were labelled as follows:

1. Deluxe Wash
2. Ultimate Wash
3. Triple Wash
4. Extreme Wash

So here's the deal. You want to start with "deluxe" rather than "basic" or the like? I understand that. Deluxe just sounds better, and that's the point. But from deluxe, you move up to "ultimate." Here's where it gets problemmatic. How can something described as "ultimate" be only third best? Did the people who designed this system not know what "ultimate" means? Try the following: not to be improved upon or surpassed; greatest; unsurpassed. In other words, they are claiming to improve upon something that they also imply cannot possibly be improved upon. How, you ask? Do it a third time. Seems like if something has already been done perfectly, doing it a third time does nothing. The law of diminishing returns has to come into play.

And don't even get me started on "extreme." Maybe whoever designed this was just a fan of Harold and Kumar. Still, as a wise man once said, "read a book, nigga."

The Finer Things

Today I've taken a moment to reflect on one of the best parts of my move to Madison a few years back. There are several, of course, not the least of which are (1) my fiancee, (2) my friends, and (3) my job. Next on that list may have to be food. Now, this is not to say that before coming to Madison, I did not eat food. Some may claim that I didn't eat "real" food -- i.e. that I ate only fast food, junk food, and packaged food. This is largely true, though I did grow up with home-cooked meals and parents who tried desperately to get me to eat vegetables. But that's really not the point either. Nor is the point that after coming here, I branched out from the All-American diet to eat a wide(r) variety of foods, such as sushi, Indian food, Tex-Mex food, gyros, and (all thanks to Mr. Utah) cheap Chinese food. And even the occasional salad.

The real point I'm trying to make is that before coming here, I didn't know the correct way to enjoy the foods I liked. And I'll thank my friends for setting me straight on these. Here are some expamples of what I'm talking about:

Steak - Before I came here, I didn't give much regard to how a steak was cooked. Steak was steak, and always welcome unless it was rare. I assumed rare was gross, based primarily on the common hyperboles (serve it bloody; knock its horns off, wipe its ass, put it down on my plate, etc.). I believed that A-1 was a necessity to really enjoy steak. But now I know better. Now I know well done doesn't translate to done better. In fact, I know that any steak cooked beyond medium rare may as well be a blackened lump of shit. And I know that steak sauce, while tasty, is never necessary unless you're eating a terrible steak. And if it's that bad, what's the point?

Ranch - Back in Oshkosh, ranch was just a dressing. Here, it's the wonder condiment. Got a burger and fries, but no ketchup? Dip 'em in ranch. Got a pizza that's perfectly fine on its own? Dip it in ranch. Now it tastes twice as good. Got a mystery meat that's been in the fridge for an untold number of months, and no money for other food? Dip that fucker in ranch. Now it's gourmet. I cringe when I think of how many times I'd be stuck at home with a fridge full of food and a bottle of ranch, but never thought to start picking things at random and seeing what happened rather than resorting to another box of mac and cheese. Or at least, never having slathered the mac and cheese in ranch. Now that's an idea...

Which brings me to the main event -

Cheese - Before law school, my world involved four kinds of cheese: cheddar (yellow cheese), mozarella (white cheese), parmesan in a shaker (ground cheese), and cheese curds (yellow or white). I knew there were other cheeses out there, but they were so strange and foreign, I never really strayed from the big 4. And why bother? Yellow cheese went with everything. It was mild and pleasant and worked with 95% of my cheese cravings. Mozarella was strictly for pizzas, and parmesan was to only supplement the mozarella. Cheese curds were strange and exotic, a luxury item my parents brought back on occasion. I had tried others, of course. Blue cheese was gross. Sharp cheddar tasted funny. Anything else was just a minor variation on yellow cheese. So no need to venture elsewhere.

Then I came here and saw the light. People swore by sharp cheddar, so I gave it another shot. Turns out, it was just like the yellow cheese, only you could actually taste it. And it was damn good. Also, there's an actual block of cheese called parmesan. It doesn't just come in a shaker. And the cheese block is a billion times better. Blue cheese is like a flavor injection for steaks, burgers, and wings. Plus, all the other cheeses have their place for different occasions. Now, one of my favorite past times is hitting up the local Brennans and sampling 10-20 different cheese and cracker combinations.

And that's the real point - if I had never come here, I may have lived my whole life without discovering these things. So I just wanted to say thanks to all my friends and the wisdom they've imparted. Here's hoping I can return the favor some day.

Right...

Quote of the day:

My fiancee, trying to sell me on seeing the new Nicolas Cage move:

"It's going to be like National Treasure, but with more math."

Truthiness

Just caught the Colbert Report from March 5th. In case you missed it, the Tip of the Hat/Wag of the Finger section was brilliant. Here Colbert applauds Rush Limbaugh for re-writing the Constitution, then scolds Sean Hannity for whatever theoretical comment Hannity must have made to lead Hannity to begin praising all things Rush. Colbert then divines what that theoretical comment must have been, and it's a doozy. Watch below.

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Tip/Wag - Rush Limbaugh

Colbert Report Full Episodes
Political Humor

Joke of the Day

Or, if you don't have the patience for that, here it is:

"I mean to warrant obsequious crack-licking like that, he must have said something terrible," theorized Colbert of Hannity's praise. "I mean -- something like the vacuum in Republican leadership has allowed a mean-spirited, lard-assed talk radio host to become the de facto leader which is turning an already crippled party into a bickering laughingstock."

Quote of the Day

"But in America, if you want to spend some time with the ladies, you gotta show 'em some sausage."

Dave, Flight of the Conchords

...And We're Back!

In case you haven't heard, I got my data back thanks to a $15 part and a simple "chkdsk" command. So my book is back, and the bazillion hours I've spent on it have not been for naught.

Also, I have this to say for the Geek Squad: Although I appreciate your efforts, it really would have been considerate of you to GO FUCK YOURSELVES, YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS FUCKS!

That's all I have to say about that.

*It comes to my attention that "I'm on a Boat" starts playing every time someone loads this page. I can change that so it doesn't happen, if people want.

*On second thought, I don't care.

Crashed

Sometimes things fall apart. Or so I've been told, at any rate. I won't even begin to talk about my life being hard, because it's not. My life is a breeze. Bad things rarely happen. But when they do happen, they tend to cluster. Like last Friday night. My laptop crashed on Wednesday, to the point where it said there was no operating system. Against my better judgment, I took it to the Geek Squad at Best Buy to get it fixed. I requested the data back-up for $100 because, like I complete dolt, I hadn't backed up my book in awhile. Months, in fact. But, no biggie, I'd just pay my money and get my shit back. Right?

I should have known better. Friday I went to pick up my data. I've already had issues with getting data back from them in one piece, and I was ready for more shenigans this time. However, I was not ready for them to tell me they couldn't get my data, that it was corrupted.

My gut instinct was absolute panic. If I can't get my data back, I will have lost about 8 chapters worth of revisions, which equals about 100 pages, or about 80 hours worth of work. I will essentially be back at sqaure one on my second draft. It's my fault for not backing it up regularly, but for realz - I was ready to tear skulls from bodies when that guy said my data was corrupted. So I calmly left the store, got back in my car, and screamed until my throat was hoarse.

I basically sped out of the parking lot, and immediately realized that driving while enraged was a bad idea (especially considering how driving in general can be a bad idea for me). So I took a deep breath, slowed down, put my seat belt on, and started driving cautiously.....

And then promptly got into a car accident.

Not even my fault, if you can imagine that. Some chick totally pulled out in front of me and another car, trying to pull a left turn right in front of us. We both slammed on our brakes, but I did it a little too late. The only real damage was to my bumper, no injuries, so no big deal. But not a good experience. And not a good night

Anyway, the dust has cleared a bit. I may yet get my data back. My car will be fixed by the girl's insurance. I will someday have my revenge on Best Buy.

Moral of the story? If I had to pick one, I'd say that if something's important to you, make sure to keep it safe.

If I had to pick two, I'd add that you should never trust the fucking Geek Squad.

I Totally F***ed a Mermaid!

The "Dick in a Box" guys have done it again. Enjoy.


UPDATE - had to remove it. Couldn't hear Colbert.

Party Til OLR Shuts Us Down

I miss show business. It took me watching a high school show choir competition to realize it, but I really miss the lights and the stage and the crowds. I miss costumes and characters and making audiences laugh. I'm sick of being the 14-year old lawyer who doesn't talk much and works with the funny Mexican guy. I wanna be a star again.

So here's what I propose: for all of you who miss it too, join me. We'll do Law Revue: the Professional Years. We find a stage somewhere, grab a few props, and take aim at the practice of law. Instead of professors and students we'll mock judges and other attorneys. Your most clueless judge? Toast. Your most loathed DA? Toast. And let's not forget, the greatest source of legal comedy, clients. Glorious, glorious clients. We change the names to protect the incredibly guilty and incredibly dickish alike, and then we roll.

Sure, we'll be disbarred if anybody actually comes to watch us. But that's bound to happen anyway, right? Why not go down in a blaze of comic glory? Think of it as the "swallowing nitroglycerine" approach to picking up women. If we're going to fail, why not fail to the extreme?

No seriously, this could totally work. Who's with me?

Once Again, It's On!

Shit's getting real for real on Battlestar Galactica once again. After a long hiatus, it finally came back a couple weeks ago to start it's final 10 episodes, which promised to be re-fucking-diculous. The first episode back was a bit maudlin, which was to be expected given how the last half-season ended, but still solid. The second epsiode was surprisingly blah, not really all that promising for how explosive the end of this series was supposed to be. But apparently the point of that episode was just to arrange the pieces for this last episode, which was fucking awesome. Probably one of the most exciting episodes of the series, and the best part - it's only the start of what's to come.

This is why I have difficulty answering what the best TV show ever was - I can't until I see how this show ends.

Tool Academy

I have never been a fan of reality television. Primarily because it just exposes the lowest common denominator of humanity. Generally just hearing the premise of the shows is enough to make me want to hurl. Also, I can't stand these shows because networks have chosen to inundate the airwaves with this schlock over scripted programs because reality shows are cheaper and easier to make. As a result, many quality television shows get axed in favor of fucking drivel. Plus, as I'm sure you all know, I have a general aversion to reality.

So as a general rule, I don't watch reality tv. Ever. But today I had to break that rule. VH1 has a new show called "Tool Academy," bringing together some of the douchiest douchebags this side of, well, the earth. Cockbags with handles like "Matsuflex" and "Mega" preen and pose and pontificate on their awesomeness, believing they are competing in a contest called "Mr. Awesome." Turns out they are being watched by their long-suffering girlfriends in a contest to see if any of them can stop being tools. Each week, the biggest remaining toolkit gets the boot. It's actually kind of...well, terrible. But as far as guilty pleasures go, it was fun to watch, and made me feel pretty good about myself.

The King of Cake is Dead

Have you ever been to a bridal expo? Unless you have a vagina, probably not. Bridal expos basically contain an endless series of booths presenting brides-to-be with possible caterers, photographers, invitation makers, dress makers, cake makers, reception halls, DJs, travel agencies, and anything and everything else wedding-related. And if you don't know, weddings are fucking expensive, so the people running the expos throw in drawings and raffles for free stuff at every stop, and then watch the crowds descend in droves.

Admittedly, I am not the manliest man that ever manned up to the world. I don't hunt, I don't drive a pickup, and I don't know the way to the gun show. However, that doesn't mean that I'm personally equipped with female genitalia. Nor do I have any interest in the general wedding planning business. I certainly care what my own wedding will look like, and I am more than willing to provide my input on things, and generally provide whatever help my bride-to-be would like.

Accordingly, being the supportive (and financially wanting) groom-to-be that I am, I agreed to accompany pH to a bridal expo this morning. I will say this - it wasn't horrifying. In fact, as an avid lover of cake and once-dubbed "King of Cake," I was dazzled by the bountiful cake samples available. So I went a little nuts. I sampled cake after cake after cake. And maybe I'm just off my game, but I started to get a little sick. I sampled cakes from the first 4-5 places or so. Then I started to get a lot sick. But the cake makers, they did not stop. At first, I began averting my eyes. Then I had to start running away. The King of Cake could handle no more.

So in the end, the worst part for me wasn't the endless weddingocity of it all.

It was the shame.

The King of Cake is dead. Long live the king.