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Category Archives: About Me

Cosmetic Surgery

What seems like forever ago, BMW added halos to their car’s headlights and the world went apeshit.  They had a poignant ad campaign focused on the headlights with a deep message like, “The eyes are the window to the soul.”  Oooooo.

I recently changed out the headlight lenses on my car because they were completely fogged over; they were almost useless.  And let me stop you here, the fogging was on the inside of the lenses, so buying one of those polishing kits would not have fixed it.

The lenses were not cheap – at all.  A little over $800, if you’re wondering.  They took a significant amount of time to even get shipped to me, then they sat in my garage for weeks until I had a free weekend to do the work.  And the work has now been done and I couldn’t be any more pleased.

I never noticed that I am constantly looking at other cars’ “eyes” to gauge how old they are.  After I changed out my headlight lenses, it was like the car was brand new again.  And I say that with a lot of sincerity – it is really that big of a difference.

Back in October, this is what the car looked like (photo courtesy of AK):


She was dressed up for Halloween as a vampire.  See how the lights are a dull, matte finish?  It gives the car a lifeless look, which may be fine for a vampire, but when someone is checking out your car and they see those dull headlights, it really shows the age.

Over the weekend I got to work., this is what my car looked like, mid-procedure.  WP_20180303_09_47_57_Pro

A couple of close-ups of the lenses before they came out.

WP_20180303_09_48_22_Pro WP_20180303_09_48_13_Pro

And even more surgery,

WP_20180303_10_10_36_Pro WP_20180303_10_10_45_Pro

Now, after the change, the difference is amazing.


And just look how happy she is!  Young and pretty again.  Sometime in the future, she deserves a fresh coat of paint, since the fiberglass surfaces of the roof and retractable hardtop deck have faded and lost all their shine.  But for now, the light is bright and clear, and the eyes reveal a well-travelled soul.


Minty Fresh

It’s been four years since my last attempt at creating a bare minimum Linux Internet machine.  I figured I would give it another try.  All my previous attempts were either failures, or they left me with a laptop that I didn’t know what to do with.

This time, I am creating a travel laptop that is just for Internet.  And for anything else, I’ll connect to my home machine with TeamViewer.  So that limits the installs I have to make down to:

  • Web browser – Now that I use Vivaldi for everything, I don’t have to worry about the differences between IE and whatever else I have available on Linux.
  • KeePass – I need to log in to websites, of course.  And the KeePass database is held in the cloud, which means I need…
  • DropBox – I had the foresight to use DropBox instead of OneDrive when I first set up KeePass.  Although there are OneDrive clients for Linux, none are official MS products.
  • IM – A chat client for keeping in touch when I am on the road.
  • VLC – For playing music and videos.  Fortunately, it is cross-platform.
  • Some image viewer – Still evaluating which one to use…

And that’s all.  I’m pretty much in Netbook territory here, but this is a spare laptop and I should make some use out of it.  It won’t be my bedside laptop, since I need some other software there that isn’t Linux friendly.  But anyway, this post is about Linux Mint.

In my prior adventures with Linux, both Ubuntu and Mint, the install process and compatibility issues were an absolute clusterfuck.  This time around, I blindly installed the latest Mint version on a USB stick and ran with it.  The Mint OS loaded up without a single hiccup and I had sound and network in the Live CD desktop.  That is a very positive sign.  So without any other testing, I chose to install the OS, completely erasing the hard drive.  That’s usually when things go south, but to my amazement, within 15 minutes of starting this whole process, I was on a functional Mint desktop with no strange errors, warnings, or bugs.

I started right away downloading and installing the software I needed, which wasn’t much.  I learned quickly what worked well and what I should not bother investigating further.  Some things I will eventually need to learn more about – the things that Windows makes so easy, like setting a program to launch at startup.  Some things involving permissions were a pain, but I also have an appreciation for security, so it’s ok.

And now, I’m writing this post on my Mint laptop, connected to my Windows desktop via TeamViewer.  It’s been almost pleasant.  And while I still can’t recommend Ubuntu or Mint to a neophyte, because I wouldn’t be able to assist them if they had issues, I applaud the Linux teams for the progress they have made in the four years since I last attempted this experiment.


I don’t know why I have this little hangup about posts where I feel if I don’t have at least a certain wordcount, it’s not really worth posting at all.  I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about how different social platforms are optimized for different message lengths, but blogging is supposed to be for the longest form of writing.  Well, not today.  Story time!


I’m out at lunch at Hungry Howies, enjoying my usual small pizza with light sauce and pepperoni, when I notice a wasp out of the corner of my eye in the window.  I can immediately tell the wasp is agitated, but that is sort of a moot observation because wasps have no chill and are always agitated. 

Without trying to cause too much alarm and make myself a target, I visually confirm which side of the glass the wasp is on.  It’s my side, the worse of the two available sides.  I watch the wasp carefully, without making direct eye contact.  I want to know what his plans are, maybe to continue pushing against the glass or maybe to go elsewhere, like my face.

After a while of watching, less than a minute for sure, I decided the wasp must be killed so I may eat in peace.  So I get up from my booth and go up to the counter to get a killing implement.  A woman meets me at the counter and I ask, “Do you have a fly swatter?”  She says sure and disappears.  The woman took longer than I would expect, but eventually comes back with a paper cup and a lid.  I’m thinking to myself, “What the fuck.  You want me to trap this thing in a cup?”

She holds the cup and lid out to me and says, “That’s the best I could do.”  I make no move to take the items from her and I must’ve had the strangest expression on my face, because she pulled back and asked, “You said you wanted an ice water?”

No.  That isn’t what I wanted.

The Worst Developer

I think it’s a universal truth that no matter where you work, you hate the software that you have to use.  And it’s even more true when that software is written internally, meaning not store-bought or otherwise 3rd party.  As someone who writes this type of software that everyone hates, I can understand the frustrations.  But this story is about the software that I didn’t write, but was written by and for the company I was working for.

The particular software was primarily written by one person, who had been with the company since the start, which was decades.  I was supposed to create the software that would replace it, but the company went under before that came to fruition.  However, I did have enough of an opportunity to shed a ray of hope that better things were coming, at least software-wise.

The purpose of this maligned software was order entry and contact management.  It was used by the sales force to create quotes, sales, credit memos, and also to track membership for the company’s special program.  For as long as I could discern, there was friction between the sales team and management.  Aside from mutual distrust, there was also resentment in that the company wanted to micromanage how things were done on the floor.

The company came up with a very precise, very specific way of selling from which no one was to deviate.  And the software was written entirely to enforce that specific methodology.  The people on the sales floor obviously didn’t subscribe to this methodology and simply felt that they were being treated as human robots, without any free will to conduct the sales transaction in the way they felt comfortable doing.  The software developer constantly complained that the users were not using the software correctly and were always figuring out loopholes, which became bugs.

I have a lasting impression from my first few days working there when I was in training for that software.  That impression was validated by another user near the end of my time at the company.  After sitting through the training session, I felt like a complete idiot.  I didn’t understand anything.  Nothing made sense.  And it was all because the software was written so terribly.  And that feeling made me question my capabilities for working at that company.  I tried to reassure myself that it was just because I was unfamiliar with the industry, but the user that confirmed my feelings was an industry pro and couldn’t understand the software either.

There were many issues that I took with the software.  The first was the ridiculous color scheme and color choices throughout.  It screamed “amateur”, and when I’ve been formally trained to write professional business software, this was not acceptable.  Required fields were highlighted – in yellow.  And not pastel yellow, the eye-bleeding danger yellow.


Taking that issue further, there were many dialogs that used “folksy” language.  There was no “Cancel” button.  Instead, you had a “Forget It” button.  Unless it was a “Never Mind” button (which has a keyboard shortcut of Alt-V, because Alt-N to suggest “No” would be too much for a user to understand).


You had an option to “Undo Previous Whoops” on a dialog that asked specifically, “What Do You Want To Do?”


Here’s some messages the application could pop up:

  • Programmer Goof – Trying to use Add code for something else!
  • This Credit Memo will result in a net credit to the member of $x.xx. Is this what you intended?
  • Does Member desire a refund check from Corporate?
  • Is this Credit Memo being created to “Undo” this Sales Order as though it never existed?
  • Whoops — too many windows are open.  Close some windows and try again.
  • You have tried to pick up more than was ordered. Please RTFS and re-enter valid amount in correct box. (The application’s name started with “F”, which was a convenient out if he was ever accused of telling the user to “read the fucking screen”.)

I mentioned that the software was written to enforce the sales procedure as defined by the company.  This actually caused a big headache at one point because they changed policy one time which required a lot of code changes to support it.  But anyway, when you would start a new sale or quote, you would be prompted with question after question about how the sales was to take place.  These questions were supposed to be asked to the customer, which would prep the sales form with certain data.  As you would suspect, the questions were all worded folksy and unprofessionally, and most were pointless, only nagging at the sales person to upsell this or that and don’t forget to ask about this.  Some examples:

  • Don’t forget SUNDRIES!!!
  • We’re Pushin’ Cushion!!!
  • How ya gonna Cut it, Glue it and Dress it Up???
  • Whatcha gonna put it on?  How you gonna seal it?
  • What’s gonna keep it down?
  • How you gonna keep it quiet?
  • How you gonna cut it, glue it and finish it off?
  • What’s gonna keep it from slidin’ around?

Because the entire process was so drawn out and pointless, the sales staff started memorizing the keystrokes that would let them fly through the popups and just get to a blank sales form.  The developer, when he learned of this practice, was furious.  They were skipping over all the hard work he put in to make them do their job correctly – the only way to do it correctly.  So he took action.  To keep them from skipping through the screens, he randomized the buttons on the popups.

Yes, it may sound absolutely incredible, but this developer literally made the application more difficult to use on purpose by changing the interface to require the user to read the screen.  What was lost on him was that the user wasn’t reading the questions on the screen, they were only reading the buttons to find out what they had to click next.  And if they misread anything, they got a sales form that wasn’t what they needed and had to start over.

And this developer was very proud of his work.  He had defeated the users.  And that really was his only goal.  Not to make things better; only to win.  And when he wins, everyone else loses.

A Happy Meal For These Days

Eating is generally a pleasurable experience.  Carrabbas says, “There is no love more sincere than the love of food.”  Dining out with friends (not as often with family) is a cheerful event, with conversation and company and also, food.  For McDonalds to try and bundle this whole thing up into a box and call it a Happy Meal is sort of pointless.  It’s a meal, it’s happy as it is.

But there are times, sometimes often, where your thoughts are not together, or you’re not feeling particularly social.  Maybe you have no one to be with.  A word comes to mind: melancholy.  When you look up the definition, “melancholy” sounds much more severe than I mean it to be.  So, although Melancholy Meal would be a pretty awesome name, I prefer to just keep it simple and call it SadMeal.

I have two SadMeal restaurants, one for work and one for home.  At work, I go to Long John Silvers.  Part of the reason this is my SadMeal location is that no one would ever go there with me, so I can be assured I’ll be there alone.  The whole “misery loves company” thing is completely bogus.  No one wants to be around a miserable person.

I want to take the opportunity to explain this LJS place I go to.  They are religious.  I mean, they are in-your-face, repent-now, religious.  Some part of me wonders if they chose LJS as a franchise because of the fishing metaphors from the bible.  Another part of me wonders if they are going way too far and that YUM! Brands should maybe have a talk with them.  We’re talking constant preaching radio on the sound system, tracts on the tables, a TV playing cartoon stories from the bible, and more.

So, some might think that if I’m sad and I go to a place that’s highly religious, I should feel comforted.  Isn’t that the point of religion?  To provide comfort?  But that’s not the point of SadMeal.  The point is to eat – alone, with my thoughts.  The religion is just an annoyance.

When I am home, SadMeal is my nearest Subway.  It’s not so much chosen as a place to get away from everyone, like it is at work.  I mean, I can stay at home and feel however I want.  Subway is chosen more of a default when I can’t decide on what I want to eat and nothing sounds like it would cheer me up.  If Subway marketed like Carrabbas, their tagline might be, “Sincerity is for idiots.  Eat this cheap, stale bread and indulge your misery.”  And that is what makes Subway my SadMeal.  It’s self-pity for not being able to choose a better meal.

Back in 15th-century England, you could be hospitalized for melancholy.  Not really hospitalized, but committed to an asylum.  Now, in 21st-century America, you can commit yourself to a meal.  Embrace your emotions and have a SadMeal tonight.

My GPS History

It was back in 2008 that Woot sold me my first GPS unit, a Mio 720T.


Being new to the GPS world, I was pretty enthralled.  This particular unit I ended up giving to my now ex-wife, and I bought a lower-end model, the Mio 320.


This one didn’t have a lot of the nicer features of the 720, but it was very hackable, and I was able to add voice navigation and spoken road names, which wasn’t a feature that came natively.  In fact, the device was rootable, and I had installed a lot of different software on the device.  You could actually get to the desktop of the base Windows CE system.  It was a cool experience.

One of the other things I remember about that unit was its pickiness about the power cable.  It always wanted to jump into USB storage mode, like it was plugged into a computer.  I don’t remember exactly what I did to fix it, but I suspect the rooting of the device assisted in that.

The problem with the Mio is that it was inaccurate.  The UI was really awesome, though, so I put up with it for a very long time.  It wasn’t until 2014 that Woot offered a decent replacement, a Garmin Nuvi.  A totally no-frills GPS device.


This was a great little GPS.  It did everything I needed, which wasn’t much.  After I learned to make the UI a bit more data-happy, it became the ideal device for me.  This device lasted a little while, but failed due to the USB connector breaking in the back.  One day, I was simply unable to get it to charge anymore and as the battery wore down, I felt a little sad.  Like this was the last time it was ever going to operate.  There was no way to recharge it.  The long walk down the green mile.

In 2016, Woot sold me a new GPS, this one with a dash cam built in.  Prior to that, I had experimented with using a cell phone as a dash cam and the results were sort of mixed.  I was driving without a GPS and I missed that convenience, but I couldn’t see mounting both GPS and dash cam devices on the windshield; that was ridiculous.  That meant my next GPS unit was a Magellan.


This unit was kind of a shock to me, because I had gotten so familiar with the Garmin UI.  Everything that was different about the Magellan, I hated.  Over time, I learned to live with it, but I never really liked it.  It wasn’t worth the effort to become emotionally invested anyway, because the device quickly developed a problem where the touchscreen would not register your touches in the right place.  Your clicks would activate buttons a quarter-inch to the right of your finger.  This made it impossible to click buttons on the left side of the screen.  And that gap grew over time, eventually making the device unusable.  It had other issues too, like never really muting.  It would screech whenever the speaker would normally make sound, even though it was muted.  It was unpleasant.

A little over a year later, Woot offered a Garmin DriveAssist 50LMT dashcam/GPS and I jumped on the chance to get it.  Looking at the specs, I was pretty awed.  It was a technological marvel.  But the reality of this device is what I am writing about today.


To say that this device is overkill is an understatement.  There are so many features packed into this thing that I’ve disabled, and there’s more I want to disable if I can find out where to do it.  But let’s start right at the beginning.  Garmin is kind like the Apple of the GPS world.  They’re the biggest and the most popular, so they feel they can write the rules.  And like Apple, they lock you in.  The GPS won’t charge unless you’re using an actual Garmin power cable.  That is bullshit.  Fortunately, the Internet can show you how to modify a USB cable to work with these devices.  However, the unit complains every time I start it up that the power cord doesn’t have a Traffic Antenna in it, so traffic reporting is disabled.  That’s fine, but the dialog doesn’t time out; you have to click OK every time.  Ugh.

So I have it powered up and running, now I have to deal with the map.  They have icons for everything – food, gas, bank, attractions, whatever.  There’s no room to see the roads!  Then there’s the notifications – school zone, speed limit changes, sharp turn ahead, railroad tracks.  Then there’s the alerts.  This thing will tell you when traffic starts moving in front of you, when you drift out of your lane, or when you’re going to collide with someone.  The end result is that something is happening on that fucking screen all the time.  All the time.  That is not what I want from a GPS.  And it’s not something anyone should want.  Seriously, like I hear an alert and look over to see “Forward Collision Warning” when I should a) already know this is a possibility and b) be looking ahead to take defensive action.

It has really opened my eyes as to the practicality of these warning systems.  I’ve recently seen a commercial for a car with accident avoidance that alerts, “Brake!”  It’s probably too late to do anything about braking at that point, despite whatever distraction the alert causes.  I got a lot of false alarms last night that I was going to collide with a truck that was passing me on the right and others saying I was drifting out of my lane.  How accurate is this technology?

I’m unconvinced that alert systems are beneficial. I think we need less alerts and more information.  I think 360 degree cameras would be a great benefit.  Of course, I say this while I’m surrounded by idiots who don’t think going 20 MPH over the flow of traffic and weaving between cars is any sort of danger.  But for now, I’m turning off every alert I can and just returning this state-of-the-art device to the same functionality level I had from my 2014 Garmin.

Bringing It Back

A couple of months ago, I picked up a new keyboard at a thrift shop.  As the holidays were approaching, I only had a few moments to spend any time with it.  I did a quick cleaning and test of the device and found it was… weird.  Something was really odd sounding about the patches when I played them.  I don’t have perfect pitch, but I can hear well enough to know when something is out of key.  And that’s what the problem sounded like.

The phenomenon was very weird, because as I would play songs that are completely familiar to me, I would screw up while playing them.  Not because of any sloppiness or difference in the keyboard action, it was because my ears were hearing a different pitch than I was playing on the keyboard, so my fingers would try to compensate for that and stretch to the wrong next key.  Like I would play a C and know the next note is a D, but my ear hears a B and my fingers think I have to stretch over an extra key to get to the D.  Just a mess.

I did try some repair on the keyboard a little bit afterwards.  After opening it up, I found the pitch and mod wheel cable was disconnected, and it looked like something had been spilled inside.  I pulled the keys that looked like they’d been affected by the spill and cleaned them.  The contacts looked fine.  And then, right in the middle of that procedure, the holidays came back, so I had to close the keyboard all up and store it again.  Along the way, I found I had lost 4 springs for the keys I had cleaned.  Not lost, but they had fallen out.

The other night, I pulled the beast back out and set about some trial and error troubleshooting.  During a previous round of testing, I had discovered there really was a pitch problem and my primary suspect was the aftertouch ribbon.  So after I replaced the missing key springs, I did a quick test with the aftertouch cables disconnected.  Perfect sound!  I reconnected the pitch and mod wheel cable and it still worked fine.  Things are looking up!

I considered the restoration project a success.  I had a functional 88-key keyboard for $100.  Who could complain about that?  Well, maybe I could complain that I had nowhere to set the thing up.  And having this massive electronic device made me miss the even bigger electronic device I nearly gave away.  That one was a real monster:


Maybe one day I’ll write about the experience of trading this killer keyboard for a little tiny mixer.  Maybe it’ll include the confrontation with the sales guy at Guitar Center.

I have some desire to do some music.  To have all these devices and not make use of them is a shame.  And  ridiculously, I have some desire to recollect my original keyboards, maybe in rackmount form, so I can have my original inspiring sounds.

Things were different back then.  Things were more simple and also more difficult.  But the difficulty didn’t matter at the time because there wasn’t any other option.  You had to be daring and involved and willing to expend effort.  Now, expending the effort is rather a big deal.  I have a lot of software to set up, some hardware to configure, patches to configure, and eventually some audio routing will be needed.  These things aren’t conducive to creativity.

As I’ve been rebuilding my playing stamina and relearning some of my old compositions (which I’m very saddened to find I’ve forgotten a lot), I’ve been debating putting some of them online.  I actually have some old video of my playing from 2009 but I doubt it’s usable.  Production values have skyrocketed since then, so I’d probably need to record the video and audio separately, then mix them together to get the best quality.  More setup, more effort, less creativity.

Additionally, I’ve got yet another future audio project that is going to require the full recording setup effort, so maybe it’s happening sooner than I think.  Here’s to 2018 having a more diverse creative output.

How’s It Going Down There?

If you haven’t noticed, it’s cold.  Fucking cold.  In fact, it’s so cold, we need a song for it.

Oh, the weather outside is bullshit
Too crappy for even a fire pit
And going outside is on hold
It’s fucking cold, fucking cold, fucking cold

So where I’m at, we’re going to have lows in the 30’s and highs only in the 50’s.  That is totally unacceptable.  I chose to leave the wasteland to come here and I don’t need the weather following me.  I’m just a little bit sensitive to this whole temperature thing right now and I think I have a good reason.

There is no heat in my goddamn house.

Yup, the HVAC unit that failed on me a few times this year and let me broil (I guess bake is a more appropriate cooking metaphor) in my house over the summer has now fucked me from the other direction.  And being a guy, that’s an undesirable situation.  Uh, a straight guy, I guess I need to clarify.

So, if you hadn’t guessed, it’s cold in here.  Not as cold as it is out there, but it’s in the mid 60’s.  Let me check… Current temp 66 degrees, feels like 40 degrees.  So, similar to how I went into emergency mode when the cooling went out, I’ve done the same for my heating crisis.  I closed all the rooms off and I’m heating the bedroom with a tiny little space heater.


This exact one, from the 80’s, shown almost actual size.

So my plan tonight is to not get hypothermia, put every blanket I have on the bed, and call the A/C people tomorrow.  Will it be a $50 fuse or a $5000 replacement?  Who knows?  Can’t wait to find out.

What Did You Do This Weekend?


Oh yeah?  How was that experience?

Let’s start with the night before any of this.  Actually, we can go back a little further, because I already said I pulled my fitness tracker out of retirement and as such, made at least a small commitment to addressing my declining health.  I’d been walking pretty regularly, maybe 2.5 miles a day, weekdays.  Then, I decided to address the issue with my bike and get road tires so that I could use the bike on a stationary stand and get some higher cardio benefits.  And then I agreed to at least try exercising with the GF on the weekends I was over there.  So, in my mind, I was committing to one day a week of a real workout.

The night before the first workout, I was hit with anxiety.  I don’t get anxiety, but that’s just another “don’t” that was destined to fall this weekend.  I woke up in the middle of the night and my heart was pounding.  Like pounding so hard it was making my breathing stutter.  I did eventually fall asleep again, but had a poor sleep and woke up the next morning little unchanged.

Normally, I don’t worry about things.  I have a “just do it” mindset and just go, ignoring whatever consequences there might be.  This time was different.  This felt like going to the dentist, where I just disassociate and become a zombie. (Although my current dentist is pretty amazing and although I’m over the fear of most procedures, some are still unknown.)  So, we get to the gym (a “box” in their terms) and I’m just sitting against the wall staying away from everyone.  I had no idea what to say, do, or behave.  I wasn’t sure if I would be guided or just left to figure it out on my own.

We start out with a warmup – running.  The only time I can ever remember running was doing track events in summer school, like 30 years ago.  But running is instinctual, so I just did it.  I got winded pretty quickly.  My mouth dried out and that was it for me.  But that wasn’t it for the workout.  That was the “warmup”.  There was also stretching and some other stuff I don’t even remember anymore.  Oh yeah, ring rows in place of pull ups.  Couldn’t do ‘em.  I think I was on my third set when my body gave out.  I was near passing out and every time I mentally set myself to expend the effort to do a set of rows, nausea welled up in me.

So that first day, I figure I was only able to do half a workout.  Pathetic.  I was assured that the first day is always the hardest.  And after resting and getting all calmed down, I wasn’t yet done for the day.  I don’t get anxiety.  I don’t run.  I also don’t puke.

But today is full of firsts.  It’s a pretty raw memory for me, back in 1995 or so, when I last hurled, barfed, upchucked, chunderspewed, vomited, or puked.  And that night I swore I would never do it again.  I would do anything to keep that from happening again.  But today, after thinking I had dodged the possibility once again, when everything was calm, the warning hit me.  It’s strange how you instinctively know how to run and also strange that you know when you are going to throw up.  Your body actually preps you for it by coating your throat with mucus to protect it from the coming tsunami of acid.  And that taste and sensation is unforgettable, even after decades.

I made my announcement and swiftly, yet calmly, went to the bathroom, whereupon I did the deed.  My unbroken streak was now broken.  All in the name of some sort of health benefit.  Cruelly, the gym makes you sign and date a puking man mural on the wall when you fail to keep your fluids.  But I was assured (again.  Lots of assurance here) many times that people only sign the wall once.

So, that was fun.  Sounds fun, right?  Let’s do it again tomorrow!  Fuck yeah!  More running, more stretching, more things.  Jumprope, throwing medicine balls, pushups, weights.  Again, I failed about midway through, but that was also because I knew when that nausea feeling arrived, it was not something to fuck with.

So, that was fun, too, right?  Except for the fact that my muscles really fucking hurt.  So, tomorrow, then?  It’ll just be a private workout at a friend’s house.  What’s to say about that?  More of the same, more failing halfway through.  Much more pain in the muscles, especially the legs.

It’s hard to say where this is going to go, but it’s not fun.  I’m assured that it’s going to get better.  The first day is the hardest.  The second day is better.  In a week or two it will start feeling good.  I am not sure if people that work out have a different definition of what “feel good” means.  This is probably the most radical change I’ve made in my life, just in the span of three days.  I can’t evaluate it yet.

If This Matters

For people that love anniversaries, it’s going to be a good couple months.  I got this notification from WordPress today:


It’s a fucking ACHIEVEMENT – it says so right at the top!  Time has gone by and I am to be commended for that.  This is truly a fantastic day in my long, illustrious Internet history.  I have a few words I want to say in gratitude of this prestigious honor.

First, all you young little shits don’t know how good you have it.  You have so many fucking people on the internet now, you can get followers at the drop of a hat.  All you need is a bunch of “Dunk Memes” (Dark?  Derk?  Dank?  Whatever.) and you’ll skyrocket to the top.  You also have the ability to install a bunch of “plug-ins”, which are like air fresheners for your blog.  I see where they got the name from. They’ll keep your blog theme fresh and new for all your attention-deficient and fickle followers.

Me being me, I’m not here to make friends (but I am loyal beyond measure to the few I have).  I just put this shit out here and see what happens.  If nothing else, I have a record of what’s happened in my life.  You might notice I’m being vague here, but I have a second anniversary coming up and I’m going to get really stupid on that one.

Now, back to being crotchety.  Second, punks, I’m older than a lot of you.  So, if you think you’re going to catch up with me and beat my seven years of WP tenure, think again.  No really, think.  Because that’s how time works.  You’re going to hit seven years, I’m going to be at seventeen.  In your face, maggots!  Of course, in ten years, I could be dead.  Then:  Maggots, in my face!

So, how did I get here?  I owe it all to Windows Live and Microsoft’s shitty decision to continually sunset any product I enjoy using.  Remember what Live Spaces looks like?  The Internet does.


That’s about all I have to say about blogging right now.  You’ll just have to wait for the other anniversary for the self-indulgent hit parade.