Fuck NTB

I brought KG's car into National Tire and battery today to replace her two front tires. $107 all told, and they managed to get me out of there fairly quickly. About what I was expecting, so no complaints there.

What raises my ire, though, is the petty theft. Of approximately $1.00 in change from the center console. I noted when I dropped the car off that KG had some silver in the little coin holder. It was gone when I left.

A few years ago, I brought my car in for a new battery and tires. I had about $10 in quarters in the bin. I knew this because I had counted it that morning, considering using it to buy a pack of smokes. When I went out to my car after having it serviced, the change was gone.

I went back in and confronted the sales guy. Of course, the mechanic denied it. I told him I wasn't concerned about the loss of $10, it was the principle. I'd just spent a couple of hundred in their store, and the mechanic must have realized the coinage would be missed.

Needless to say, the money was not returned. They did give me a voucher for a free oil change, though.

So, here we are a few years later. The amount taken was probably less than a buck, but the principle remains the same. Seriously, what the fuck, guys?

I will never be going to NTB again, and I'll do my best to discourage others from going. I hope that spare change got you something good out of the sundry machine, you fucking grease monkey.

Children shouldn't play with guns. Period.

This past weekend, an 8 year old boy in Westfield, MA blew a hole through his own head while firing a fully automatic Uzi. This was not one of those all too common cases of an irresponsible parent leaving a loaded gun within reach of an unattended child. No, little Christopher was at a "Machine gun shoot and firearms expo." According to the flyer for this event, "It’s all legal & fun. You will be accompanied to the firing line with a Certified Instructor to guide you. But You Are In Control – "FULL AUTO ROCK & ROLL."

Holy jumping Jesus, fuck me sideways.

Now I'm no bleeding heart liberal, and I'm not anti-gun. I believe Americans do have a right to bear arms. I believe in responsible, legal ownership of firearms. If said owner has children, I believe in educating those children concerning gun safety. I even support taking said children to a firing range where they can learn first hand how to operate a fire arm.

But who, in their right mind, would conceive of a "machine gun shoot" for children? Seriously, what the fuck? It boggles my mind that such an event would be allowed to occur in the first place. There is no good reason, NO GOOD REASON why a child should be around or handling a fully automatic assault weapon. EVER.

Guns are not bad. They provide protection. They can be used to hunt. Target practice is a fine hobby. But an assault rifle is for just that: assault. It's only purpose is to kill and maim human beings. Quickly. The words assault and children should not go together. EVER.

Of course a young boy would jump at the chance to handle such a weapon. Boys are trained from the get go that they're cool. That does not mean it should be encouraged. Sweet bleeding Mary, what are people thinking? I seriously can not wrap my head around it.

I really shouldn't be surprised that the devolution of Western society has reached this point. Just the other night I was expressing concern over some of the new toys coming from the good folks at NERF. I'm not trying to be an alarmist here, and I don't think I'm being over sensitive when I say there is something inherently wrong with marketing a foam projectile assault weapon to children. For Christ sake, watch this video for the N-Strike and tell me there isn't something wrong there.


Of course it's wicked fucking cool, and if it had been around when I was a lad, I would have wanted one. But I really think we're crossing a line here, and we need to stop. As NERF guns get more and more extreme, shoot longer distances, shoot faster, it's really only a short progression to making one that will actually maim. Perhaps that's a leap, but the other issue here is training young children to be soldiers.

That ain't right, yo.

Blue light special

It's no secret my poor car has suffered neglect. The roof leaks, oil leaks, the brakes are squealing, the shocks are shot.
It runs, but not well.

We'll be retiring my trusted Saturn in the near future.

At any rate, my current inspection sticker expired at the end of the month. I took the car in Saturday, and much to my dismay (but not surprise), it failed. The "Check Engine" ( or in my case, "Service Engine Soon") light has been on for some time. The place I used to take it never noted it.

Apparently, it has something to do with the O2 sensor being slow to respond. So, the mechanic slapped a rejection sticker on it and suggested I make an appointment with them to look at it. I have 60 days to resolve the issue.

I made an appointment for Friday, requiring a day off from work.

Well, this morning, I pull out on to RT 18 and passed a cruiser. I silently counted 3 mississippis in my head, and sure enough there were the blue strobes in my rear view mirror.

I pulled over, got out my license and registration, and waited for Ms Cop to finish running my plate and come talk to me.

I wasn't surprised to get pulled over. Yes, I have 60 days, but the fuzz doesn't know that until they stop me. What did surprise me was the following exchange after the copper looked at my registration. (Note: the car is registered in KG's name.)

Cop: Is this your daughter's car?
Me: ?!?!?!

Yes, officer. The car is registered to my 2 year old daughter. Christ on a cracker, I know I have some gray hair, and this morning I was looking a little grizzled. But for fuck's sake, she had my license in her hand that clearly shows my birth year as 1973!

I must have given her a look, because she quickly said "Your wife's car?"

Damn, man. Color me pissed.

So, as soon as I got to work, I called the autoshop. Friday is as soon as I can take a day off. Here's hoping I can make it through the next two days without getting pulled over again.

Remember, remember the eleventh of September...

The airplanes, terror and plot,

I know of no reason

Why nine eleven

Should ever be forgot.

Jesus H Tap Dancing Christ. Seriously?

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

It's a movie, for cry eye. Too soon? When did this once proud nation become a land of professional victims? Get over it, get over yourself.

Global Integrated Joint Operating Entity

Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I believe the slogan was "G.I. Joe, Real American Hero."

Stephen Sommers can nibble the poo pills off my hairy, sweaty ass. Mother fucker.

The only childhood toy that cam close to rivaling my Star Wars obsession was GI Joe. Fact is, Joe pretty much eclipsed my SW craze. The Hasbro line went into high gear between Empire and Jedi. After Jedi came out, I got a few figures, but no playsets or vehicles. On the other hand, I had tons of GI Joes. I even had the damn base. I loved those guys.

The cartoon was the standard 80's shit, but the comic book truly rocked.

When I first heard rumblings of a movie, I didn't hold out much hope for something good. But this shit is just retarded. Seriously.

Why do we always need to update things? A Joe movie based on the comic book would be cool. If you're looking to reignite the franchise, go with the nostalgia. Bring to flesh and blood what we loved as children.

If you have to update, make it relevant, OK. You could pull that off with a little imagination.

But Sommer's vision: Festering shit heaps.

For the love of all that is PVC, someone give me a live action GI Joe TV show. Do the comics, man. You want to update it, fine. Snake Eyes lost his face in Iraq. Cobra is a domestic terrorist organization using the distraction of the War on Terror to destabilize the US. The GI Joe unit is culled from our current military ranks, misfit weapons geniuses and computer hackers, etc, who don't fit in well, but are the best in the military.

IT COULD WORK!

WWJD?

Weymouth had it's first murder of 2007 yesterday. It seems Ryan Bois broke into a relatives house on Randall Street, rape and murdered his 6 year old cousin, and then stole the family's car with her naked, battered body in the back.

After a high speed chase through Quincy, this sick fucker was arrested.

In all seriousness, if you're a cop and you pull over a guy who has the naked, battered body of a six year old girl in the back seat, there's only one thing to do. Put a bullet in his mother fucking head.

End of story.

Not only am I a father of a little girl, we used to live just a couple of streets away. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if someone did this to my little girl, I would not stop until I had wrung every drop of life out of him.

There's no punishment that fits this crime. None.

OJ Simpson needs to die

I've said again and again that I've lost my ability to be outraged. I've grown world weary and jaded enough that I expect the worst. And then something like this come along. To quote:

"On November 30, her Regan Books is publishing a book OJ Simpson wrote with the working title "If I Did It, Here's How It Happened."

Fox said Simpson's book "hypothetically describes" how he would have committed the murders."

Open note to Mr. Simpson: Fuck you, you murdering scumbag. We all know you did it. You're guilty, and if you had any shred of moral decency in you, you'd stick the business end of a 9MM in your mouth and pull the trigger.
I can only hope you develop some form of inoperable cancer that kills you painfully and slowly. You are a sick, sad piece of shit and I spit on you.

Whew! It's nice to know I can still work up some anger.

I Object!

KG and I do our best to avoid exposing TKJr to commercials. His primary TV viewing has been PBS and Noggin. Good programs, commercial free.

Not long ago, we discovered PBS Kids Sprout. It's a cable channel, and features mostly PBS Kids programming. 24 hours a day.

When we first started watching it, it was mostly commercial free. Every now and then we'd see an ad for Gerber life insurance, or some cleaning product, or maybe a CD collection of 80's music. I didn't really object to that. I understood that Sprout, while carrying the PBS brand, is a cable station, and makes no claim to be commerical free. Plus, the rare ads were geared toward parents.

A few months ago, they fired the host of the evening program. She had apparently appeared in a 30 second short called "The Technical Virgin." I saw the video. She wasn't naked, she wasn't lewd. It was inappropriate for kids, yes, but my three year old does not know how to google.

It took months for Sprout to replace her. In the interm, they started sneaking in more and more commercials. I didn't get pissed. Chucky Cheese, they sponser PBS. Huggies Clean Team? Yes, we did have to go buy Clean team hand soap and wipes because our son had to have them. But at least it teaches him to clean himself.

Now, even with a new host, Sprout has moved on to all out commerical breaks. Last night I saw the ad that has pushed me over the edge. Meet "Itsy Bitsy Spider Man."

Not only is that straight out pandering of useless, overpriced crap to children, it also happens to be the stupidest damn thing I have ever seen. What's next, a Tickle Me Hulk?

Seriously, folks. Let's get something straight. Muppet Babies was a bad idea. Pooh babies was stupid. But baby superheroes? No.

Superheroes were not born super. With the exception of Superman (technically an alien made super by the sun's yellow rays), they were normal people until something happened to them either during puberty or in early adulthood. Are we now to believe that Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider at daycare? That Bruce Banner was zapped by gamma rays in the nursery? That at 6 months, Bruce Wayne decided to avenge the murder of his parents? I think not.

To quote Cartman: "That's gay. Hella gay. Liberace gay."

Define this

The powers to be at work decided Operations could use some education. So, they signed us all up for a 3 week Medical Terminology class. 2 days a week for 2 hours. Fun!

Things can get busy fast at work if processing isn't being done. So, I do forsee some problems before this class is over. I actually didn't need to take it, as I pretty much took pre-med when I was going to college for funeral service. Sure, it was 15 years ago, but I've retained a good portion. Medical terminology isn't hard to grasp. It's mainly just memorizing Latin roots. But, I decided to take the class regardless. Hey, if work is going to start piling up, I'm not going to be the only sucker sitting at my desk.

Anyway, in honor of medical terminology classes, I'd like to share my all time favorite term with y'all. Of course, I did make it up myself, but it works well for me.

fecalencephalosis. In short, the condition of having shit for brains. Enjoy!

Happy 9/11 Day!

Might as well make the most of the anniversary. Be happy, give thanks we didn't die.

Oh, and for the love of all that is holy:

Stop reminding me not to forget! I can't, OK, so you can spare me. I remember. I always will.

Thank you, come again.

Hey, there's my moral outrage!

Like most Americans, I have a tendency to forget. Even when I’m remind not to, the daily grind of life tends to dull the sense and distract attention. Life, for some, goes on.

So thank you, Spike Lee, for raising my ire once again. I watched the first part of
“When the Levees Broke” last night. My heart ached once again watching the misery and suffering of helpless people betrayed by their own country. I got angry all over again.

I think I summed up my initial reaction pretty well here. I still feel that way, and watching the documentary only brought that point home more. How do I explain to my children the abject stupidity of our elected leaders? All I can say is I didn’t vote for the asshole.

No, I’ll never forget. I don’t think many people will. Be it September 11th, be it Katrina, people won’t forget. What they will forget, and what they have already forgotten, is that people are still suffering. The problems have not been fixed. And the people responsible are still making bucks and shitting on the Constitution.

Don’t wave your flags at me, brother. Get off your doublewide ass and do something about this country.

Where are my T storms?

It's tough this time of year when you're a big fan of thunderstorms. Every day I get a severe weather alert with the promise of damaging thunderstorms. Yet again and again the day goes by without even a single lightning bolt.

I want some scary weather, dammit!

Hoarse and Frosty Words

Last Friday's commute: 93 minutes
Monday's commute: 95 minutes
Tueday's commute: 35 minutes
Wednesday's commute: 55 minutes
Thursday's commute: 55 minutes

So, I've managed to presume this much about the ride home based on 5 day's travel: Normal, everyday commute with clear weather is 35 minutes. Twice what it should be, but par for the course. If it's raining out, add 20 minutes. If there's an accident or heavy rain, add an hour.

So why does a little rain make for more traffic? Sure, in theory people drive a little slower due to the conditions. But this doesn't explain the serious delays I encounter. Reduced speeds should not bring the highway to a grinding halt. Molius has theorized that subconsciously people think if they can't see the city due to low clouds, it might not be there, and they drive slower to prevent themselves from driving into oblivion. I'll buy into that. The amphibian part of the human brain has strange powers, and can make people do funny things. But, as far as my ride home goes, we're all driving away from the city... so I'm not sure that is as much a factor. I've thought sometimes that commuters who usually take the T opt to drive in bad weather. That would help explain the increased amount of cars, but it doesn't make a lot of sense.

Whatever the case may be, it fills me with anger and rage. A 90 minute ride home leaves me so pissed I could shit pure bile. You know it's bad when you're hoping that whatever accident is holding you up was really bad, and you're hoping people died to make your suffering worth while. That ain't good for the old soul.

Speaking of shitting, poor RB was suffering today. He had a colonoscopy yesterday, and apparently all the barium in his GI tract turned to cement over night, and he was badly bound up and in pain today. Poor bastard. Nothing worse than being so constipated your back hurts.

Here's hoping he manages to drop his company off at the pool tonight.

Idle Thoughts, the Sequel

Take 2:

500 Rutherford Ave Charlestown, MA (work) to 125 Hancock St North Quincy, MA (Dunkin Donuts)
Distance: 9.4 miles
Approximate Driving Time: 14 minutes
Actual Driving Time: 95 minutes

Today there was no rain. There were no accidents or breakdowns. There was no tornado, tsunami, Godzilla or locust. Just a couple 100,000 dim witted, tail pipe fucking, shit sucking assholes all driving in the same direction as me.

Fuck Boston. Fuck the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority. Fuck the Tip O'Neill Tunnel.

And a big old special, hearty fuck to the stretch of Interstate 93 South between exit 28 and exit 12.

Oh, and fuck all you commuters. All I wanted to do was take my damn kid to the park before going home. Thanks for shitting on that.

Idle Thoughts

There's a bit of a disconnect between what is and what should be.

500 Rutherford Ave Charlestown, MA (work) to 125 Hancock St North Quincy, MA (Dunkin Donuts)
Distance: 9.4 miles
Approximate Driving Time: 14 minutes
Actual Driving Time: 92 minutes

I've been living with the hellish 93S commute for some time now, and for the most part I am resigned to it. But seriously, an hour and a half to drive less than 10 miles? Fuck me sideways.

There was a bit of a weather situation today that, while not the sole cause of this mind numbing drive, certainly exacerbated the situation. We had torrential downpours this afternoon. Weymouth wasn't too bad, and it was drizzling in C-town when I left. But Quincy got a friggin drenching. Raining cats and dogs? Only if we're talking about panthers and Newfoundlands. The flooding was insane. At one point I had to drive through over a foot of water.

Additionally, my sanity was saved thanks to Molius. For the record, the album ended just as I reached the gas tanks. Santa Dog 2000 was pretty damn cool.

I had actually started off the day by opening a word file so I could write out a nice long entry about my painful interactions with the staff of my neighborhood QwikiMart. That'll have to wait for a later date.

You have got to be shitting me

KG and I decided to head down to Kingston today and pop into the Independence Mall. It's a good mall. Has a big ass Target , a Newbury Comics, and it's usually not very crowded. I stumbled across it last year when I did very special troop last year.

Anyhow, we were hoping all the walking around would help expand KG's cervix. So far, nothing note worthy.

TKJr had a pretty good time. We couldn't leave Target without buying a Thomas the Tank Engine toy. He's really into Thomas right now. Target doesn't carry the wooden "railway system", only the die cast. Those don't fit on his tracks so well. He really liked a large Thomas shaped carrier, but again, that was not designed for the wooden "railway system." Whatever. I managed to find a push along Thomas that plays the theme and makes train noises. He was thrilled.

A little further into the mall we came across a store called "Wicked Cool Toys." Indeed, they had some cool shit. They also had the wooden Thomas "railway system." Infact, as we walked through the back of the store, TKJr spied a Thomas table with a whole track set up and a bunch of engines. So we let him play with it.

I wish I could describe the look of happy contentment on his face. As I watched him, I decided to find the Thomas display so I could gauge how much the tracks, playsets and engines cost. I was thinking of replacing his current Brio playsets with the official Thomas ones.

I was in for a nasty surprise. $20 an engine. $15 a car. $50-$100 for the playsets. The fucking table was almost $300! I did some quick math and determined that the set up my son was currently enjoying would cost me the same as 2 sets of stormtrooper armor.

What the flying fuck??? My son deserves to be happy. He deserves to have brightly painted chunks of wood with wheels to push around a track if it so pleases him. But come on... Christ on a cracker. They are toys. Toys!

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am sick and fucking tired of overgrown asshole children who buy "collectable" toys. I have had it out the ass with "Limited Edition" and "retired".

THEY ARE FUCKING TOYS. Toys are for kids. Toys are for playing with.

If people want to collect them and keep them in there friggin boxes, so be it. But when my 2 year old can't have his favorite fucking steam engine because his parents either can't find him or can't afford him, I get pissed.

Stupid fucking DVD-R vs DVD+R

I finally decided to break out the manual for our recordable DVD player tonight. I bought it a while ago with the intent of making DVDs of our home movies. Now that TKJr wants to watch his own home movies every day, I figured it was a good time.

So, I read over the instructions. Hooked everything up in the bedroom, broke out the package of recordable DVDs I bought when I got the player. Cued up a tape.

Invalid disc. What the frig? I look at the instructions. The model I bought only uses DVD+R or DVD+RW. I have a package of 5 DVD-R.

Fuck me sideways. To further piss me off, when I googled "recordable DVD", I found a FAQ page on about.com. Seems most recordable DVD players and all PC DVD burners use the DVD-R. But... there are some recordable DVDs that only use the DVD+R format. And that's what I got.

So, I packed everything up again. Thankfully, tomorrow we're going to the Kingston Mall for a Target run. I'll pick up the right freaking discs then.

Right now, I'm going to shut this sucker down as well, resist the urge to bitch about my wireless issues first, and go fuck my wife. It's not going to be easy or fun. We're trying to trigger contractions so we can have this damn baby already.

Later, gators.

Piggyback this, fucker!

When I bought my wireless router at BestBuy a while back, they wanted to charge me $150 to encrypt it for me. I passed on that offer.

Now, thanks to my IS buds CC and Molius and a helpful MS site, the ass clown who was kicking me off my own network can kiss my encrypted ass. Woohoo for WPA!

So, no new developments on the baby front. KG hasn't popped yet. She had an ultrasound on Monday. We got some really cool face pics of my daughter. Today KG had a non-stress test. Everything looks good. She has another NS test Thursday, and they scheduled yet another for Saturday. She has an ob/gyn appointment on Thursday as well, and we were hoping they would decide to induce her on Friday. The folks today thought they would do it Monday.

Anyway, after much talking with KG about what's left to do before the baby arrives, I've decided to start my LOA on Thursday. I'm only taking 3 weeks, so I've been trying to save it until the baby arrives.

However, one to many dumbasses at work have asked me if she's had he baby yet. I've had my fill.

So, tomorrow will be my last day for a fortnight and a half. I have a feeling I'll be returning to one hell of a cluster fuck. W00t.

A Volcano, for Christ sake!

OK, maybe it's a tad pointless to rant about something that happened 26 years ago. Be that as it may...
I'm watching (or more accurately just finished watching) Seconds from Disaster. Tonight's episode is about the eruption of Mt Saint Helens in 1980. One of the survivors is some guy who was camping with his friend not too far from, um... an active volcano.
So, the volcano erupted, he got horribly burned but managed to survive. Lucky bastard. 57 other people weren't so lucky.
Anyway, it's 26 years later. The narrator is talking about the science that goes into predicting volcanic eruptions. There's a lot of information here I don't feel like going into.
The point I'm getting at is this guy that survived, he's actually pissed off that the scientists at the time didn't do a better job of predicting how the mountain would explode, and as a result didn't properly warn him.
Some one correct me if I'm wrong, but the friggin thing didn't just up and explode out of nowhere.

Listen pal, you were camping in the vicinity of an active volcano. V-O-L-C-A-N-O. Mountain full of fire and smoke. People knew it was going to go off. You were stupid enough to put yourself in harm's way. You survived. Fucking get over it.

That's all. Now the same show is covering the crash of TWA Flight 800. I'm going to watch that.

What's Up With that?

This is the second time it has happened, so I thought it worth commenting.

Today was one of those messy, wintery New England days. Freezing temps overnight, we wake up to snow. The storm had been forcast. Firefox was giving me severe weather alerts last night. So, I get up this morning, clean the cars off, and prepare for a long, painful commute.

Getting out of Weymouth was bad. The back roads were slick, and cars were all over the place. Slow going. I hit the highway, and.... nothing. Almost no cars on the road. I had no traffic at all until I hit the South Bay Center! My ride home... record time, little over 30 minutes!

Last time a big storm was forecast (which we never got), there was no traffic. I had a great ride in.

So my question is this: All you people who could afford to stay home today because the weather might be bad: Maybe you should take some time to re-examine your priorities? I don't know about anyone else, but snow or no snow, I had to be at work today. If you have a job where you can not go in because the weather is shitty, maybe you shouldn't go in at all. How about staying home on the nice days so those of us slobs who have to drive to our jobs can do so. I can see no logical reason at all for a 25 mile commute to take 60-90 minutes every friggin day. Then, when we get a snow storm, I'm at work in 40 minutes. That's with bad driving conditions.

Seriously. Stay the fuck home. Find another way into work. Do every day what you did today. And let me go where I need to go in a reasonable amount of time.

Thank you. That is all.