Chad Can Plan

If You Can Dodge a Wrench, You Can Dodge a Ball Thrown by a Mormon on a Trampoline

2011-06-14T18:06:00.000-07:00

Yes, the title says it all. Last night for FHE we went to Sky High Sports in Rancho Cordova. What is that? It's a sports facility dedicated primarily to trampolines. And safety. And dodgeball.

Now, you might think, "Geez, Chad, that's a pretty dumb concept for an activity." To which I reply, "You don't know what you're missing!"

So what they have set up is a series of trampolines joined together by safety padding, with trampolines on the sides. You bounce from trampoline to trampoline, picking up the dodgeball and getting others (and yourself) out. It couldn't have been more fun.

Now, I actually suspected that it would suck. Mostly, I actually suspected that I'd be standing in the corner by myself with two or three bullies (a la the Simpsons) pounding on me or bouncing me up and down against my will. All the while I'd be shaking back and forth, shouting: "Make it go away! Make it go away!" I don't like bullies, and I especially don't like danger.

But what I found was a safe environment, happy people (who could be sad on a trampoline?), and I was pretty OK at dodging. Not throwing, but dodging.

So, if you've got $10 to spare, I highly recommend trampoline dodgeball. Worth every (church-sponsored) penny and liability waiver signing.

So, to close this off with a Jack Handy saying:

"If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the impression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control."

Note: None of these are from our activity. It's hard to take a picture on a trampoline.

Would You Like Ferengis with That?

2011-06-12T18:29:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday I went to the library to pick up a book or two (this time I picked up four, all travel books for planning my trip to Europe). And the internet was down at the library, and their website wasn't available either to search for books or even to scan them at checkout. This meant that the librarian had to write down the serial number on my books and then enter them in later when the computers are back online.

So, we were chatting it up about the Old School library, you know, the card in the slot, the card catalog, lining up the books just right, etc. At which point the librarian said: "You know, it's like deja vu all over again, or nIB'poH as the Klingons say, not as if I'm into that or anything." We then went on for about 20 seconds until I said, "Oh, you study Klingon?" to which she replied: "Well, not as if I take any classes, but yes, I study it."

I smiled the whole time.

Now let me tell you, I loved me some Star Trek when I was a kid. It was fun and sexy and adventurous. I was a bit of a nerd (read: my mommy thought I was cool) and a Trekkie, and I think there's a little bit of Trekkie in me still. But if you're going to bust out the Klingon dictionary, you need to own it. You know, throw down some awesome Klingon rhymes, mating ceremony poems, and Klingon jive talkin'. So sister friend at the library, you rock it, y'all.

And for a low price in Vegas, these wedding options can be yours. Let's see, which ones in the picture immediately above were less than happy at attending his brother's wedding in Star Trek costume? I count at least 4.

Questionable Questions of Questionness

2011-05-05T12:20:00.001-07:00

As I'm sitting here on my lunch break, eating a hot pocket and whittling down my enamel with soda pop (notice the region-neutral phrasing), I thought I'd mention a moral debate I had last night with some of the Germans folks I know. It was a nice night on a restaurant terrace, and the topic turned to the recent killing of Osama bin Laden. They were up in arms about German Chancellor and pant-suit enthusiast Angela Merkel's statement that she was happy about Osama bin Laden's death. I thought: "You tell it sister! Testify! [insert clapping sound here]" Apparently some CRAZY people have the idea that rejoicing in another person's death is morbid and macabre. Not me. I say if I found Osama bin Laden in my kitchen, trying to steal my high-fiber food products, I'd have every right as a native-born Texan to do the same. With a shotgun.
Then the debate began. Normally I try to avoid debates, but sometimes I just can't help myself. I think that I am right 95.86% of the time (sometimes I'm gassy or have to pee, which affects my judgment). Plus, it was three on one, and my little man instincts were awoken (at 5' 8 1/4", they mostly slumber). I mean, this was the guy that killed 3,000 Americans on September 11. And he was trying to kill more. So why not shoot the guy?
Their argument, which they tag-teamed: You should always give someone a trial, even if they are a murderer. We live in a land of laws, and we shouldn't lower ourselves to their level. If he was unarmed, why not arrest him?
My response: We don't really know all the details, so we can't really judge. Even if it was somewhat questionable to kill him (which I don't think it was), I think it's OK to be happy that the jerk is dead. I mean, do we need to put him on trial to find out that he (gasp) organized 9/11? And had I been alive in 1945, I'd have been OK with a certain Austrian's untimely end. And one bit, which I didn't mention, is that I'm proud of our servicemen and women who risked their lives in this operation. They were real heroes in this story.
I don't think that my arguments were that persuasive or even that cogent. Given that the debate was in German and my statements went something like: "Osama bin Storeshop is been very bad man who go to Hades on techno subway. I like rejoice when bad people have ending good for us," Who is to blame my debate partners? I mean, I could have been wrong, too. I had three soda pops and a water, so I really had to wee.
Obligatory patriotic copyright-free picture of our 20th President, James A Garfield:

Geez, I have to Iron my Kilt Again

2011-05-01T17:15:00.001-07:00

Good Day, Everyone!

I was in a hipster-infested magazine store yesterday to buy an obscure news magazine. By obscure I mean German, and by news magazine I mean der Spiegel. Didn't have it. In any case, I was looking at the news periodicals, when I saw a man in a skirt. A pleated skirt. I walked behind him, pretending to look at the magazine but really trying to find out if this man was wearing baggy shorts (to hide his girth) or a proper skirt. I mean kilt. The answer came when I saw the label: it was a kilt brand that markets kilts to the active man.

This has obviously led to much introspection. Is it ever appropriate for a dude to wear a kilt? I took a look at the kilt brand's gallery and said maybe. If you're hunting a bear with a battle ax and deer blood (as bait), then yes, no one should be able to question your manhood. Or if you're the guitarist in a metal band, you have enough testosterone to wear a kilt. If you are building a house or a bear trap, then you can wear a kilt. If you are fighting Al Qaeda and drug smugglers in Afghanistan, then you can wear a kilt.

But for me and my friend in the magazine store, even if that kilt is made by Bonnie Prince Charlie himself, I can never wear a kilt.

Done.

My Zombie Apocalypse Survival Plan

2011-04-19T20:41:00.001-07:00

With the year 2012 (the Apocalypse Year) closely approaching and the popularity of the Walking Dead, I thought I'd share with you all my fool-proof Zombie Apocalypse Survival Plan. Now, there are a few assumptions about this particular Zombie Apocalypse. There are two main types of Zombies: supernatural and scientific. Supernatural zombies are difficult. In case of supernatural zombies, you either have to join them (I mean, it can't be all that bad to be a Zombie) or go hard-core Zombie slayer and end up dying in a blaze of glory (like Buffy or Spike (I met him- he's a nice guy)). I assume that any Zombie Apocalypse will be scientific Zombies, such as a Zombie virus.

So you ask yourself: "But Chad, what are we going to do? The Zombies are at my door, and I don't know what to do!"

My Plan is as follows:

1. Grab any gun, baseball bat, or sharp pointy object you can.

2. Grab your supply of food, water, and clothes for about two weeks.

3. Head up to the great white north. Canada.

Yes, that's correct. Canada will be safe from Zombies. Not all of Canada. Just some of it. Here's my logic: What kills Zombies? Killing the brain. What kills brains? Shotgun blasts, bashes to the head, fire, and EXTREME COLD. Yes, that's right. Extreme cold. The brain cells expand, burst, and the Zombie dies. Or undies, I don't really know the proper terminology.

A large chunk of North America (see red line on the map below) freezes below -20 Fahrenheit each year. I reckon this is cold enough to kill brain cells. And the areas where Zombies don't die each year will be full of Zombies. So what you have to do is go very far up north so the survivor Zombies won't be able to reach you before the harsh winters kill them off again. So all you need to do is just chill out for a decade or so until the Zombies kill each other off.

For potential locations I have Whitehorse, Yukon or Yellowknife, Northwest Territories. They are full of fresh water, have plenty of timber for fuel and furniture, and are full of game, such as Moose and fish. Don't get me wrong: these are crap holes. No kidding there. But they'll be Zombie-free crap holes. And plus, since Canada has high gun ownership levels, they'll have tons of supplies for Zombie hunting, should you come across some.

My plan could have flaws (which I doubt). If you find anything lacking, please let me know.

It Was the Best of TV Shows, It Was the Worst of TV Shows

2011-04-07T19:25:00.000-07:00

Hello, Blog! After a year and a half, I thought I'd say hi. Not much has changed except that I work in a different city (but live in about the same neighborhood as before) and I have not had a mullet since November of 2009. Yes, I've been mullet free and loving it.

I thought I'd start a semi-regular feature about the best and worst TV shows I've seen in the past while. When I last blogged in Nov 2009, I had just been introduced to the wonderful world of Netflix and had purchased my own account. Now, after a year and a half of the 'Flix, I have to admit that there is a lot of crappy television and a lot of awesome television out there. Here are some of my favorites (in no particular order):

1. The IT Crowd. So here's this show's recipe for success: Put an Irishman, a British Nerd, and a Ginger in the same room, and presto! Instant comedy success. My favorite catchline from the show: "I'm disabled."

2. Justified. No, this isn't on streaming. But DVDs count too. This show takes the usual law man show and adds a hillbilly twist to it: A lawman returns to his Kentucky rooots, with his former love interest waiting for him. And plenty of hicks. It really works because of the brilliant scripting and acting chops, especially Timothy Olyphant.

3. Psych. Dule Hill, James Roday, and that guy from LA Law. Need I say more? (Yes, I saw them at Comic Con)

4. Burn Notice. Don't cross Michael Westen. Ever. And I also saw Bruce Campbell, AKA Sam Axe, AKA AKA Chuck Finley, at Comic Con. He's even more awesome in person.

5. 30 Rock. I can't believe I waited almost 5 full seasons before I fell in love with this show. Tracy Morgan, Tina Fey, that Southern Dude, and Alec Baldwin. Who knew that Alec Baldwin was so funny and willing to make fun of himself? Brilliant writing, and Tina Fey's character actually speaks some pretty good German.

And here's for the worst shows. Some are just categories of shows.

1. Boondocks. If the swearing doesn't get you, the racial slurs will. I don't know what they're saying all the time or why they're saying it, but it's actually pretty offensive.

2. Most Anime. I hate to say it, but Anime is not my favorite genre. I saw some pretty bizarre Anime displays at last year's masquerade (at Comic Con, brought to you by true blood). And they were all off-putting. As my Japanese friend in college said: "Yeah, we don't really like Anime that much in Japan either."

3. Most Reality TV. I mean, as much as I am dying to see Kim Kardashian buy shoes or act spoiled and self-absorbed, I think that most of this TV is a waste of time and resources. Unfortunately, because it's so cheap and oddly popular, I only see this trend continuing.

4. Monday Monday. I gave this show about fifteen minutes, 12 minutes more than I should have. It's about a youngish British girl who is seeking her place in life. This works when Tina Fey does it, but not when someone with no charm or real acting talent does it.

5. Melrose Place 2.0. Yes, I heard about it and decided I had to discover how terrible it really was. I mean, it was fortunately cancelled, so it's reign of terror ended. I have spent about 10 minutes flipping through the fast forward feature on Netflix. If the bad acting doesn't get you, the poor writing will. This is one case where I think the Nielsen system works.

This was the wrap-up for now. Let me know if you have any good or bad TV shows to view. I'll be on the look out.

Good Bye, Mullet...

2009-11-13T12:15:00.000-08:00

Some love affairs never last. Such was mine with the mullet. I really don't know why. It was the perfect hair cut. It was easy to take care of but still had a lot of personality. My favorite part: shaking my head very quickly so the mullet would caress my neck. It was like a friend that was always there.

And I got several comments at work about it, and surprisingly most were positive. A very matronly woman at work complemented it, saying it was like her anime-loving son's haircut. Another coworker said it fit my personality.

But alas, there were problems with the hair cut. First, I felt embarrassed to go outside. I don't know why. I mean, I was rockin' a mullet. What could have gone wrong? Plus, I even made a mullet-laden pilgrimage to Wal-Mart and bought cleaning supplies for my house. But I let the world get to me. I let what "The Man" thinks get to me. So Last Saturday, after only six days of a mullet, I had a roommate give me a hair cut. He did a good job. I am attaching pictures of the new "professional" (give me a break) haircut to this post. I hope you enjoy.

RIP Chad's Mullet: November 1, 2009 - November 7, 2009. We're richer for having known and lost you.

Note: I actually like my new haircut a lot and want to get it cut like this in the future. I will give you more pictures later...

The Mullet Chronicles, Part I

2009-11-01T21:45:00.000-08:00

This morning I awoke and decided that the beard and I had to part ways. In its place I decided to add another friend: Mr. Mullet. Yup, one checked out but another checked in.

Please observe the following picture:

There are two things I like about this picture. First, you can see both the business in the front AND the party in the back. This was truly a work of beauty and a labor of love.

There are several things I like about my mullet. First, I don't have to do anything to it. I just wash it and then I'm done. I let the party take care of itself. Second, I have something in the back to play with. Third, and most of all, I like to let it swish around the back of my neck. It's like all the benefits of long hair without the hassle.

People at church laughed as they were right to do so. But I think they also appreciated my honesty to myself and the fact that I really am dedicated to it. I'm proud of who I am.

Moses! Moses! I mean, Charlton Heston as Moses!

2009-11-01T21:22:00.000-08:00

So, I thought I would give y'all a taste of what Moses looked like. I mean Charlton Heston as Moses. People tugged on the beard to see if it was real. And it was real. So, here's to three months of hard work:

You had to have the tablets of the commandments to really understand what it was. And people got it and thought it was funny. The only down side to the costume: the thong notch was killing me. I gotta get better sandals next time.

Goals. Life Goals.

2009-09-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

I've got goals in life. Big Goals. Awesome Goals. Amazing goals.

My next goal: A super, fantastic, flowingly beautiful mullet.

Yup. You heard me. A mullet. A business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back mullet. The calm before the storm.

I got this brilliant idea today when I realized how liberating, how refreshing, how beautiful it is to have long locks of luxurious hair caressing your neck. Now, you may ask, whence the mullet? It hit me. My awesomeness would triple, yes, triple by having a mullet. It puts me in a whole new social class. Really, it does.

And so, I think I know what I'll say to the hairstylist (probably one of my roommates). "Mullet me." It's like when women go to their hairstylist and say: "Aniston me." The only thing to do is choose a style and make the commitment. For after Halloween (I still have big plans for my hair-it's part of my costume). For at least a full week.

So to commence this, please read the following material from this website. For your convenience, I've reproduced the most important paragraph:

Wait for your hair to grow. At first, your mullet will be childish and weak. Visualize your mullet the way you'd like it to be, flowing and beautiful. Now, picture your mullet challenging Rod Stewart's to a duel. Daily exercises like this one will help your mullet develop the confidence it needs to flourish.

Any feedback is encouraged.

Let it All (Grow) Out

2009-09-21T20:29:00.001-07:00

So, I thought you would like. Nay. Need an update on my beard. I have kept it and embraced it. I did want to get rid of it for a while, but then I realized that Halloween was coming up. And a beard is so awesome for that Holiday. Think of the possibilities: wizard. Joaquin Phoenix. Hippie. Moses. Charleton Heston as Moses. Dan Quayle. In any case, enjoy the fruits of almost 2 months of not shaving or generally being able to get a girlfriend.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!!!!

2009-08-07T10:43:00.000-07:00

I decided to grow a beard and blog about it. It's been about 1 week since I stopped shaving. I'll give you regular updates as to its status and any anticipated plans.

Oh, and I bleached my hair.

For Rude!

2009-06-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

It may be funny. It may be true. But Leave Us Chads ALONE!

Nation's Girlfriends Unveil New Economic Plan: 'Let's Move In Together'

Don't we all feel like Kevin sometimes? I know I certainly do. A lot.

Wink!

Fun Times

2009-06-18T21:53:00.000-07:00

Dearest Reader(s):

Here are some pictures I thought you might like from my trip to Germany and Switzerland last year. I thought you'd like some more short, Lederhose-wearing Bavarian action in Munich,

followed by some awesome Swiss lion action in Luzern:

The editor thanks you for reading this blog and making it a great experience for all through your comments. Please continue your participation in the future.

And stay awesome.

Fondest Regards,

Chad Can Plan

How Do You Do It?

2009-06-17T00:25:00.000-07:00

Because I'm just awesome like that!

So, I thought I would set about decorating my work to my liking. In any case, I thought I would show you what I got. It's not much, but I think it's worth a gander.

I thought I'd start with the maps and work my way clockwise. The maps are to help me find out where I am in the United States. Sometimes I form the map of the United States in my head and think: "Wow! Nevada really is all that way to the west!"

Then I have three quotes/phrases. I wished they were inspirational, but they're really just the instructions from the bookshelf that I am trying to put up. I can't seem to get past "Hammer nail into wood."

Next I have some pictures of Germany, one from a pen pal in the East (the Goth child Germany) and some postcards from my totally awesome trip to Munich in the West (The preppie Germany). I also have a picture of His Eminence Pope Benedict XVI. Now you may be asking why I have a picture of the Pope on my wall. That's easy. I bought one postcard for someone who I'm sure has a thing for elderly Bavarian men. And then I bought another. Come on, you can never have too many pontifical postcards (say that three times fast).
I also have two postcards from Finland because it's cool. Actually cold. Very cold.

In the center I have a card from my other pen pal in East Germany. It has a cute dog on it. Let's talk a closer look, though. It has pretty good quality, especially for a picture taken from a camera (thank you Mom, Dad, and Holly).

And most of all, I think people enjoy the greatest decoration of all:

I'm just that adorable.

El Cinco de Chado

2009-06-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

When I came to Sacramento, I knew I would come here single. In fact, I kinda planned it that way. But that meant that I would have to start the dating scene here from scratch. And I am starting from scratch. This means, however, that I must choose a dating strategy of my choice. There are actually several types of dating strategies, most of which involve alcohol.

I chose the cinco method for myself. This was taught to me by my awesome roommates Matt, John, Hacksaw, and Puls. Essentially what you do is you have a queue of the five most boxom and flirty Single young Mormon women you know. You start at the top, ask her out, and then work your way down as they are removed from the queue and new ones are brought in. If you like one you keep it as long as you'd like until you're removed from the program all together. Kinda like Netflix.
The problem is, women are the ultimate gatekeepers in dating. In other words, I can ask one out, but she can say no. And she does. A lot. That brings me to another principle of dating: the +/- 1 rule. This rule says that a guy can really only expect to go out with a girl 1 point ahead of him on the 1 to 10 scale. A girl, in turn, will only go for a guy at most 1 point less than her.
I'd say I'm about a 5. This may be generous considering I'm 5' 8 1/4", have a receding hairline, a crooked spine, poor posture (surprisingly not related to the spine), and perpetual garlic breath (I like Italian food, thank you very much!). The best I can hope for is a 6, maybe a 7 if she is defective in some way (make sure you check the hyperlink). But I have a solution:
A dream cinco.
Yes, I actually have to develop two separate cincos- one with realistic goals, and one where I shoot for the stars. Even the sky-in-the-clouds cinco has some limits. Like the following person is not in my cinco because she's married to a man with the world's most powerful army.

But look at how toned her arms are!
So I figured I'd share my dream cinco with y'all.
1. Pam from the Office. I don't care if that isn't the actress's real name because I'm not in love with Jenna Fischer. I'm in love with Pam. It is a dream cinco after all.
2. Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. It doesn't matter to me that she's not three-dimensional. She is hot and sensitive. And she was kind to the hunchback, who was like a 1 or 2, so there's always hope.
3. Enya, or Eithne Patricia Ní Bhraonáin. Voice of an Angel she has. As well as an Irish accent. And money. Money. MONEY.
4. Dame Helen Mirren. Sure, she may be old enough to be my mother, but I mean come on. She's been made a dame. And she no longer does you know what.
5. Christina Stürmer. She's just a really hot woman with a little bit of edge- just what I like. If you're interested, observe from this video from her record label's YouTube channel. I think you'll see.
Wish me luck as I go through my cinco queue.

Something I Learned from Dancing Golden Retrievers

2009-06-10T20:12:00.000-07:00

One beautiful Saturday night I was doing what any self-respecting Chad would do: watch his regular routine of Animal Planet, preferably Dogs 101 at 7:00 and at 8:00, and the stern former British Model turned dog (and people) trainer in It's Me or the Dog at 9:00 PM.
But one Saturday it wasn't on. Instead, it was an Animal Planet special about dancing dogs that have human partners. How cute is that! There were beautiful muts, sassy spaniels, and elegant white English Golden Retrievers. They followed the movements of their owners so well, were so eager to please. It was magic.
The human contestants were pleasant single women in their thirties and above with a passion for animals and panache for dance.
And then I realized something profound:
I need a girlfriend.
Stat.
This is not something I should be doing alone on a Saturday night.
Now I have an idea that any clever bureaucrat would have in a time like this:
A standard application form to date Chad.
I can't say that this is actually new. Or even my idea. In fact, I saw someone at BYU with a shirt in Japanese that said: "Now Accepting Applications for a Japanese Girlfriend."
Then I say to myself: "Self-I can do that. I mean, I can read, write, and make forms."
So here you go world: The application to be Chad's Girlfriend.

Instructions: Paste the following text to a Microsoft Word document, convert to pdf and send to Chad, and then submit in triplicate with a $25 processing fee.

1. Name.
2. Sex. (Sorry boys, males are out)
3. Religion. (I only want Mormon girls, sorry Episcopalians)
4. Are you Canadian? (Note: this does not automatically exclude you but it is an important deciding factor)
5. Height. (Remember that I'm only 5' 8 1/4")
6. Education.
7. Age. (Caution: you must be within my half my age plus seven AND your half your age plus seven range. Cougars are not automatically rejected).
8. Home State: ______________________
9. What would you do on your dream date?
10. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?
11. What are your feelings towards The Simpsons?
12. List the top 15 things you like about Chad.
13. Your feelings toward form-based codes can be described as.......
Please answer the following factual questions correctly:
14. Chad's least favorite president is: ______________
15. Chad's most favorite male German chancellor is: ______________
16. A train traveling at 60 mph is leaving Washington, D.C. at 5:00 pm headed toward Philadelphia. A train leaving Dayton, OH is traveling toward Louisville, KY at 40 mph. Which train is blue?
17. Chad's favorite band is: _____________________
18. Complete the following Finnish sentence using the proper form of kauppa. Me menimme _________.
19. The thing that disappointed Chad the most about the movie for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was:_____________
Essay Question:
20. Although many cite that democracy in the Weimar Republic died the day Hitler came to power in January 1933, many believe that democracy in fact died earlier in the Republic's short lifespan. Build a convincing argument why you agree or disagree with this statement, citing the influence of Reich Chancellors von Papen and Schleicher and Presidents Ebert and von Hindenburg. (Limit 6,000 words)
_______
See? Easy as pie. I think I will have a girlfriend in exactly 67 hours, nay, 52 hours.
Thank you, golden retrievers, for teaching me a true lesson in life.

The Apocalypse, Or How Chad is the World's Biggest Spaz

2009-06-07T00:31:00.000-07:00

Ah yes. The Apocalypse. Or the ApoCALIpse as I like to call it. Let's just say Duerer and I had a disagreement over how many horsemen to put in the woodcutting. Yes, I'm talking about the Fifth Horseman of the ApoCALIpse- the California fiscal crisis that's gripping Sacramento (I know, two word plays per sentence is overkill).
We're talking lay offs, reduced pay, furloughs, and who knows what else. Cats and dogs hugging each other. That kind of thing. My days at work may be numbered according to the "last one in, first one out" principle of pink slips (A cousin of the "move the meat, lose the seat" rule that prevailed in my house growing up. I'd get to sit in that Laz-E Boy again some day if it weren't in recliner heaven.).
So in doing my research for contingency plans after the ApoCALIpse does it job and ends my brief time in the sun, I figured where else to turn but a place for spazes. or spasses. Again, I didn't know how to spell spaz (another reason that I am the world's biggest spaz).
I came across this video under spass (German for 'fun'- I did spend 12 years learning German for a purpose), I realized I have a plan B.
German.
80s.
Music.
Sensation.
Please watch the video and observe my careful reasoning why this is a good plan B.

For starters, I already speak German. That was the long and hard first step. German music sensations need German skills or German lip-synching skills a la Milli Vanilli.
Second, I'm a child of the 80s. Anything from the 80s is good fun for me. And if it involves bizarre costumes, hair, and makeup, that's OK. I am a slave to my art.
Third, you never know when having one shirt tail tucked in and one hanging out will come back in fashion. I mean, who knew five years ago that the skinny tie would be back in. Or good dental hygiene. I certainly was taken by surprise.
Fourth, the groupies and the roadies. I don't know if I'll ever make money as a New German Wave (Neue Deutsche Welle) musician, but I don't think it matters. It's about people, the people that accompany me on my every trip. And if they happen to, say, buy an overpriced t-shirt or two, who's the victim? And if they get a I heart Chad tattoo on their ankle or wrist, that's just money back in our economy. I mean, I'm not the one to cause other people pain.
I'm just the world's biggest spaz.

Things I Must Do Before I am 40 or My Life is a COMPLETE Failure

2009-06-03T18:56:00.000-07:00

There is no limit to this list- there can be as many as we need. Note: these things must be a real accomplishment. Feel free to add to it.

1. Run for Congress and win.
2. Run for Congress against Pat Buchanan or Ralph Nader and lose.
3. Re-unite Destiny's Child for a successful world tour.
4. Lead France to victory in battle, OR have a mystical fourteen-year-old girl do it and take the credit.
5. Find my dog Butterscotch who ran away when I was 17.
6. Bake a pie that will end world hunger.
7. Make Chuck Norris cry.
8. Cure cancer (solved by #7).
9. Give Keanu Reeves an acting lesson and get results!
10. Out 5 celebrities (Note: they can't be from a reality tv show or Broadway).
11. Make Ghostbusters III.
12. Crash the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Awards after-party.
13. Recover the 18 1/2 minute gap in the Nixon tapes.
14. Fix the California budget crisis.
15. Build a car run only on my own enthusiasm.
16. Become prime minister of New Zealand.
17. Rig the Stanley Cup finals.

Nesting

2009-05-24T22:25:00.000-07:00

Some animals like to nest for security reasons. I like to nest to mark my territory until my roommate moves to the adjacent bedroom.

Don't worry. It'll look like this after he leaves tomorrow.

Bundesverfassungsgericht- You so CRAZY!!!

2009-05-07T18:40:00.000-07:00

Cutsie-wootsie writing is still alive.

Hobbits AREN'T people, too.

2009-05-06T20:15:00.000-07:00

If you ever thought that the BBC didn't report important news, think again.
And by the way, I knew that hobbits weren't people all along but rather a halfling species. Yes, Tolkein got it right, thank you very much!

It's Time to Get Up in the MORNING!

2009-01-22T19:25:00.001-08:00

So my friend Kat had the idea to show her hair in the morning. Here are three shots of myself in the morning. The only alteration is that I put a shirt on and then tossled my hair a bit to undo the damage to my beautiful night creation.

And so I ask myself: Why pay all that money for the bed-head gell when I can get it naturally? And further: Why even comb my hair at all?

I'm glad I didn't get shivved

2009-01-19T08:07:00.001-08:00

It IS great to be a Florida Gator.
So, after we won the national championship for football, a group of us hopped in the back of a pick-up truck and drove to University Avenue. We wanted to take part in the festivities.
But the masses were great, drunk, and wild (See pictures below from the Orlando Sentinel). So we formed a train by holding hands and shoulders so we wouldn't get (a) trampled or (b) lost along the way.
I feared for my life.
No personal bubble, people within an inch of very sensitive areas. One sharp object or a well-placed shiv would have made my life very, well, dead.
So here's to you, Florida Gators. Not only did you not bring shivs with you and avoided shooting off fireworks at low angles, you also waited a whole forty-five minutes until you unleashed surly drunk.
Thank you, UF. Thank you.

The Dog Days of Christmas

2009-01-05T16:03:00.000-08:00

So, during much of my time at home in Fresno, I hung around with the dogs. You know, the three mutts that my parents have. The oldest is Callie (15), then Hope (9 1/2 ish), and then Ginger (4). I thought I'd give a brief profile of each.

Callie.
Age: 15

Sign: Sagittarius
Color: Auburn, tan, and white

Likes: Sleep, food, and sleep

Dislikes: Getting petted in the wrong spot.

Favorite musical artist: The Police

Movie: Rear Window

Most likely to be seen: staring at my dad and avoiding the cold sleep of death.

Quote: "Grunt. Stop tickling me. Grunt. I mean it, stop. Grunt. Grunt. Stoooppp! Grunt."

Hope.

Age: 9 1/2-ish

Sign: Unknown, but probably a water sign.

Color: White with some light brown spots on the head.

Likes: Food, getting petted on the head, food, sleep, and food.

Dislikes: Things that get in the way of her eating food.

Favorite musical artists: Grunge, particularly Nirvana.

Movie: Willie Wanka and the Chocolate Factory

Most likely to be seen: In her dog bed or in front of someone eating.

Quote: "Could you give me food or petties? Right on the head, that's it, it doesn't matter where."

Ginger.

Age: 4.

Sign: Scorpio.

Color: Light sandy tan with dark streaks on ears.

Likes: Softball, lying on people's laps, and having people wrapped around her little finger.

Dislikes: That toy that makes noise and that I have to chase and KILL!!!!!

Favorite musical artist: The Indigo Girls

Movie: Rocky (because the little guy wins)

Quote: "I'm always so ANGRY, all the time!!!!"

Chameleons Don't Always Come in Chameleon Form

2009-01-04T19:40:00.000-08:00

Where does Ginger, the dog, end and the doggie bed begin?

Shocking Things in Vegas

2009-01-04T19:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you have heroes growing up. Sometimes they teach you to reach for your dreams and to fulfill your potential. Indiana Jones, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Sammy Davis, Jr., and Mickey Rooney are among these. Sometimes your heroes let you down for the choices they make. I saw one example of this in the Las Vegas airport slot machine lounge.

Pat and Vana, how could you?

Farmer's Tan

2008-12-31T21:40:00.001-08:00

Ahhh Yes. The farmer's tan. There are many types of bad tans in this world: the farmer's tan, the Texas Tan, the Trailer Tan, the Trucker's Tan, the Taxi Tan (in Britain- how you get a tan in Britain is beyond me), and the Biket's tan. Most people try to eliminate these types of bad tans by browning those areas that aren't tan. My solution: get rid of the tan altogether. I think I'm almost there.

Have a happy 2009, y'all.

So Much Better than Roseanne Bar's Version

2008-04-06T18:58:00.000-07:00

So I always thought that "God Bless America" would make a better National Anthem than the "Star Spangled Banner." It's not that I really hated the song, or Francis Scott Key for that matter. I really hated the way people sang the song. They belt it out, they can't get the pitches right, and they make it a lot grander than it really needs to be. So I figured they should go for an easier song that people won't butcher but that is equally patriotic though of a less illustrious heritage.
Until I saw this video. It is French people singing our Anthem for us. Sure, they have a "few pitch problems," to use Randy Jackson's phrase, and they don't have great pronunciation at times, but they do a good job. It's simple and not grandiose, perhaps like Francis Scott Key intended.
http://www.pangeaday.org/index.php

Victory Speech

2008-03-31T19:58:00.000-07:00

Dear fellow SPA members,

Thank you for electing me president of the Student Planning Association. After a hard fought campaign, we won the popular vote and the super delegates. We can enter a new phase in SPA, one that is filled with more participation and action by our members.
I envision a SPA filled with enthusiasm. We have so many opportunities for action. Many have given ideas for an auction, a garden plot, a dog show, and a year book. These are all wonderful ideas that will help our group achieve its goals of inclusion and progress. In addition, I propose that we enter the new SPA year with a new organizing scheme: action groups. So much of the past activities have come from the leadership. I support the addition of action groups that are created by SPA members for a planning-related activity they want to participate in. If you want to study African Americans in planning, you can do that. If you want to volunteer at the St. Francis house, that's possible too. SPA leadership can serve to help coordinate your needs and get people involved. People know what works and what they want. It also contributes to sustainability.
I would like to thank my campaign managers Caleb and Jeff, as well as Katie, Allison, and Kalanit for giving me good ideas. Thank you.

Ahoy!

2008-03-29T13:46:00.001-07:00

So I volunteered to play a role at a Pirate Dinner-Mystery pirate. So, to be true to myself, I went big instead of going home. I bought my costume (which will be part of my Halloween costume now, thanks to the price) and was ready.

Big Hair, bandana, sword, eye patch, cape, and hook. I was ready and accessorized.

The party was awkward at time. The patch and the wig hurt my head, and my vision was unusual. Eating became a chore with the eye patch on. I also felt awkward with the glue in the hook that kept peeling off and making my hand sticky and smelly. I did use my newly acquired bargaining and negotiation skills to gain information from people and having one of the serving wenches (that was their title in the story) get me a drink and rolls with butter. Overall, it was a good time.

But what's next? I have a big wig. Why stop there?

For some pirate vocab, see below. It may be fun to drop it in class, work, or at home. Maybe they'll come back in style.
http://www.nightofmystery.com/Mateys-Dictionary.pdf

Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T11:43:00.001-07:00

I thought you might like this website link. It is about a peep diorama contest the Washington Post put on. Enjoy this, and the following video that actually has nothing to do with Easter.
http://www.yumsugar.com/1137185

Peep Wars for Easter! A How-To Guide

2008-03-22T16:49:00.000-07:00

So, for Easter I continued a time-honored tradition: Peep wars.
It's the modern alternative to cock fights.

What you do is you take two peeps, preferably of two different colors, and you put them on a plate like below:

Then you put them in the microwave and set the timer for ten seconds.

You wait at the microwave--with the doors closed--and watch to see which of the peeps got bigger and overpowered the other. My color was purple, my friend's was green. Unfortunately, green won every time. You can see the results afterward below:

Please no Michael Vick jokes about the extra melted peeps.

Happy Easter Everybody!!!

Important Announcement

2008-03-19T18:42:00.001-07:00

I, Chad Riding, declare my intention to run for president of SPA.

More information and a better picture are to come.

This message was approved by the Chad Riding for SPA President Committee.

Sour Grapes? Never!

2008-03-06T17:12:00.000-08:00

My sister says that 25 is the age of bitterness. Tomorrow, March 7, I turn 25.

And I will not be bitter!

But how? Positive Mental Attitude? Maybe. Performing acts of service for others? Probably not. Aroma therapy and spa treatments? no way.

My strategy: sweet, sweet candy.

Duck, Dip, Dive, and Dodge

2008-03-01T19:08:00.000-08:00

These are the four D's of dodgeball.

So I played dodgeball in my church dodgeball tournament yesterday. And I must say that I did fairly well for myself. I was actually the last one to get out at the game. That is to say, we sucked and lost every game we played. But the fact that I was the last one to get out probably tells more about the other team than myself.

Why?
I played without my glasses on. And I can't see the giant E at the top of the eye chart at the doctor's office with my glasses off.

I mean, it's not as if I was a moving target. I basically stayed there will blury balls of blue and orange swooshed past me. I just had to move slightly to avoid them. And I got two of the blurs out (I couldn't even recognize if they were boys or girls).

If you're played on by Chad in a sport, you know it's sad.

Below: Dodgeball getting fierce in the UK dodgeball association.

Clay Pot: $1.50, Soil: $1.22, Catnip (2 Packs): $1.94

2008-02-09T20:27:00.000-08:00

Unholy army of cat minions: Priceless.

So, as I have explained in this blog post before, there is a slight problem with wild cats in my neighborhood. It has subsided recently, probably because they have gone to live with a nice family on a farm (like my childhood dog), but I can spot a wild cat or two romping through my yard every day or two. Plentiful for my purposes.

But I had never gotten the hang of how I can turn these independent spirits into loyal servants.

Until now.

I have been considering planting a small garden in pots in my back porch. I was thinking about maybe a vegetable, or some California poppies, or Texas Bluebonnets, or even a sunflower. And then I spotted catnip at Wal-Mart for only $0.97 a packet. And my problems were solved.

How do I get a cat, the most disobedient pet to do my bidding? Lemony, minty catnip- they'll be hooked in no time.

And at only $4.71 total at Wal-Mart, it's practically a steal.

This Autobiography will be Bigger than "Don't Hassel the Hoff"

2008-02-06T19:04:00.000-08:00

I share the following story with implied oral consent and not expressed written consent. Be warned.

So someone I know told me of his terrible experience with the elementary school field day. George (name changed) was number one in his elementary school power walk. He was champion for years. A badge of triumph, if you ask me. He continued until the judges suspected that he was not really power walking. They made him walk past him, inspecting him to see if he really was power walking. No, George wasn't because both feet were not on the ground at both times and hence he was running.

Scandalous, I know, but I got this from George's own mouth.

And then I thought of what people will remember from my life, and the autobiography that I know will practically write itself. It will be entitled: "Bake it at 375 Degrees with a Pound of Love: the Chad Riding Story" I've had this in mind for several years. The cover page will have a picture of me in front of a beautiful rainbow and cloud filled sunset and objects representing my accomplishments in life.

Chad's Life Accomplishments, as taken from "Bake it at 375 Degrees with a Pound of Love: The Chad Riding Story"

1. Nobel Peace Prize AND Nobel Literature Prize before the age of 30

2. Perpetual Motion Machine

3. UF SPA club presidency

4. Cutest baby in the world

5. Bringing Britney Spears back from the edge

6. Inventing a spoon combined with a straw and a fork

7. The George Foreman-Chad Riding grill and pretzel maker

8. Losing to George Bush at Jeopardy (the categories were rigged, Alex Trebek had it out for me)

9. Saving Christmas from Terrorists
10. Inventing a Food Better than Chocolate

Balanced Day

2008-02-02T20:12:00.000-08:00

SO, today was a well balanced day. School work, shopping, carnies at a medieval faire I got free tickets to, free food, and scrabble. More details to come.

Se jatkuu ja sitten se loppuu (Be warned!)

2008-01-27T17:45:00.000-08:00

This is the Worst Music Video Ever (I wanna love you tender) by Finnish artists Armi and Dani. I like the Grease-like ending.

This is Finnish YMCA. It is disturbing. I warn you! (but it's not that disturbing!)

And I tell you, I have no more bizarre Finnish videos up my sleeve. For now.

Minä rakastan sinua. Rakastatko minua?

2008-01-26T07:58:00.000-08:00

Finns make disco a fine art. That's all I gotta say.

Ist das nicht ein Blogentry?

2008-01-19T18:10:00.000-08:00

Ja, das ist ein Blogentry!

So I found this website. It's in German, and, well, mildly disturbing because it deals with Lederhosen. And I'm not entirely proud of it. But you can get this result:

http://www.huettengaudi.de/?dance=zbd4pz71je5f813h

All I need to do is see a dog and a cat hug and I'll have seen it all.

Auf Wiedersehen!

Old and Lovin' It

2008-01-19T13:25:00.000-08:00

With two months before my 25th birthday, I am now officially old.
But it really has nothing to do with my age.
I was sitting on my bed the other night at 10:00 pm thinking about what to do. "Geez," I said to myself, "I can read, watch tv, chat with the roommates, have other types of fun, or go to bed." "Tough choice," I replied. After careful consideration, I spoke up. "Sleep" I said. "Good idea," I reaffirmed.
So I chose sleep over fun and am officially old.
Not as if anyone should blame me. On my way to work taking the NPR express, I discovered something called second sleep. Apparently, no one had really known what sleep was like before electric lights provided the option of shucking more corn or tatting a doilie at 11:00 pm. So researchers took normal, modern people and put them in an "ancient" environment of 14 hours of dark. Guess what happened? People started sleeping in shifts. After seven hours of sleep, people would wake up for "a few hours of quiet, attentive tranquility." That would be followed by four more hours of something Homer called "second sleep." I don't know about you, but having a second sleep is much cooler than having only a first sleep. So my decision of sleeping over fun is quite understandable.
I just hope I turn out to be a cute old person.

"What's your favorite pageant slogan?"

2008-01-04T12:27:00.000-08:00

Gladys Leeman: "Amer-I-Can" (from Drop Dead Gorgeous, my favorite movie)

So I thought that Amer-I-Can would look good on a t-shirt. So I found these copyright free pictures that would look really good with that slogan. Tell me which ones you think would be funniest.

Gee, I Must Have Made that Left Turn At Albuquerque

2008-01-01T12:45:00.000-08:00

Bugs Bunny would sometimes begin his cartoons by his burrowing into a new, crazy location. He would explain this to the audience by saying that he made a left turn at Albuquerque. After that, everything would go wrong.

And that's how I feel about Michael Crichton's 2004 book State of Fear, which I title: State of Fear: A very convenient book. The fictional work focuses much of its attention on the global warming conspiracy and how eco-freaks are using it to their political advantage. Fine. I can dig any number of premises, such as: Jimmy Stewart was the Anti-Christ bent on world domination (for guys) AND that girl that wore the same coctail dress as you last Saturday (for girls). And only an unholy alliance of Celine Dion, Wayne Newton, The Carebears and Chuck Norris can stop him. But please keep up the pace. And give the book an ending. And don't be preachy. I'm talking to you, Mike.

The book begins with the death of George Morton, a gazillionaire supporter of environmentalists, in a fatal car crash. His most trusted lawyer Peter Evans and his trusted, sexy assistant Sarah embark on a voyage of adventure and danger, led by the mysterious yet wise John Kenner and his foreign sidekick Thapa.

But after an incident in New Mexico where EVERYONE overcomes nearly IMPOSSIBLE odds the novel makes a left turn turn at Albuquerque. Quite literally. The battle-scarred heroes go back to Los Angeles, and the novel's pace slows. And the author gets preachy about the global warming conspiracy. Indeed, Crichton seems to focus more attention on making environmentalists look ridiculous than tying all the loose ends up. (****SPOILER ALERT****) You never find out what happens to Nick Drake, the book's main villain, and the book closes with the scientist John Kenner's viewpoint about scientific independence. Despite these major flaws, Crichton did round up an impressive amount of research (all of which is meticulously documented, with annotated bibliographies) and makes some very interesting and valid points about global warming, science, politics, and the media.

But next time, Mike, make the right turn at Albuquerque.

2008, Why Can't You be More Like 2005?

2008-01-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

So 2007 has come and gone. This leaves us with a bittersweet feeling.

And a feeling of ANGER at what we haven't accomplished.

In 2001: A Space Odyssey, I was promised space flights, aliens, and computers that sang songs about daisies to me.

But where's my diasy song? It's 2008 for goodness sake.

Here's a list of what SHOULD be here but isn't:

Flying Cars

Aliens (the Friendly Kind)

Cure for Cancer

Human Clones

Cities on the Moon

Good-tasting Olives

Ray Guns

Robots (both deadly and friendly- take your pick)

Teleportation

There are numerous things we do have but were never predicted, like the internet.

But where's my song about daisies?

I Accuse Goody Smith of Being a Witch

2008-01-01T09:58:00.000-08:00

And other logical arguments I'll hear after this blog entry

Well, after about nine months of constant political assault and harrassment, I thought I would share a few things that I have noticed.

I support Bill Richardson, but realize that he won't make it far at all. After him I like Hillary.

Oh come on. Stop it.

You say she's evil. You say she's the bride of Satan.

My question for you is: Has Hillary Clinton appeared to you at night asking you to sign your name in her book?

Probably not.

Sir Mix-A-Lot was Knighted for his Work Promoting Women's Rights

2007-12-21T10:05:00.000-08:00

Baby got back!

So, we have this new fancy-shmancy type of trash can in my home in California (the best state) that opens when you wave your hand in front of it or even walk by it.
This enforces the "he-who-tops-it-off-drops-it-off" rule.
But the batteries don't work right. Or I don't know how to wave my hand correctly.
So I've found the only way I know how to open the kitchen trash can lid:

The title of this blog entry pretty much gives it away.

So I have to back into the trash can to get it to open, then turn quickly, and deposit the trash in the can before the lid closes.

I use quick, inconspicuous dance steps to get the job done right.
It's really sad.

Kissing Kousins

2007-12-20T12:43:00.000-08:00

So I am now watching MoTab's (Morm. Tab. Choir) Christmas special on PBS with Sissel, the Norweigan singer. Then I realized something: If Swedish and Danish had a baby, it would be Norweigan.

So then I got to thinking: where do other places/ people potentially come from?

Canada is an easy one: Canada is America's sister that was raised by a stern British nanny- the kind that uses a switch when you're naughty.

Florida is also a slam-dunk example: a marriage of New York and Alabama. Florida obviously has identity issues.

New Jersey is New York's red-headed step child from its later relationship with Connecticut.

California has produced five different states: Arizona, New Mexico, Oregon, Nevada (please pronounce it right), and Wisconsin.

Arizona had a brief marriage to Florida in the 1990s from which it produced Missouri. Canada is currently raising Washington, which is Oregon and Vermont's love child.

I now have a long list of state's I can't live in. I'm working on making it longer.

Please send any hate mail to:

Chad Can Plan ; 1120 Main Street ; Cool Town, USA 867-5309

Missouri and Tennessee on a date (below)

Saruman! Saruman! Saruman!

2007-12-16T08:53:00.001-08:00

I am sitting in Las Vegas's McCarran Airport with an ETA 12 hours later than what I originally expected. With a free night in a Super 8 motel, $10 of meal vouchers left, and a free flight anywhere in the lower 48 states. Ah, I love flight cancellations and overbooked flights. And I love free wireless connections in the airport peppered with a very jetlagged and sleep-deprived the Chad.
I am back in my beloved Western United States. "East is least, West is best" is what I remind myself everyday on the East Coast.
You know what the greatest thing is about the West? It's not the people (people are equally cool everywhere, just in a different way). It's not the food (same everywhere, though with Carl's Junior and Rally's and Dreyer's). It's not the climate (though I really like the climate in the West better).
It's the lack of trees.
I know, I am officially evil.
I like trees. I like how they provide shade.
But all things in moderation. I mean, they're everywhere in Florida. And they make everything dark. And you can't see far into them.
So what do they have to hide?
I'm suspicious.
So I am reminded of Lord of the Rings and Saruman, who felled many a tree, and the orks and Uruk-hai, who shouted his name, encouraging deforestation.
So I shout with my Middle Earth brethren:
Saruman! Saruman! Saruman!

Chad Can Plan for Hobbits

2007-11-25T15:15:00.000-08:00

There is a wonderful world called Hobbitville at 1895 S 1300 E in Salt Lake City.

It's home to hobbits.

Or should I say "Little People" You know who I am talking about.

It is a magical subdivision where little people can live in peace. It is shielded from view by large fences and magical landscaping so you can't see through it.

Big people can only come into the entry/parking area which is guarded by a very tall person ("giant") and taxidermied stuffed chipmunk/pigeon creations. Or so my sources say.

The residences-where only some people go- has small cottages where the little people live. It also has a pond and a bridge. If you intrude into the area, the little people get stones and may throw them at you, or they may try to cast spells (verbatim what my source said- I kid you not). This subdivision has existed for a while, and apparently they have interbred a lot.

I suggest leaving the little people alone. They've suffered enough at our hands.

Mental map that a source drew for me:

This place's existence has been confirmed by 4 eye witnesses

Be Somebody!

2007-11-19T19:11:00.000-08:00

I promise a real post in a couple days. But let me tell you, this morsel will quench your Chad Can Plan thirst. I especially like and recommend the comment entitled "It's 'T' Time."

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/6300183556/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Chad Can't Blog

2007-11-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

To show solidarity with my Hollywood writer brothers and sisters, this will be the last post until the strike ends.

OR until I'm done with my book critique paper, whichever's first.

Advice

2007-11-06T11:47:00.000-08:00

Here's some advice that I have recently discovered.

Before you marry someone, get the following info (and no I am not married):
1. Name
2. Where they're from
3. Birthday and age

The following are scams:
1. Organic food
2. Ethanol
3. Canada
4. Comeback tours

If you think your food needs an extra umph, trying one of the following ingredients:
1. Fat
2. Sugar
3. Milk
4. Salt

Don't vacation in the following places:
1. Cuba
2. Syria
3. Libya
4. Missouri (It's still not a state)

If you want something to do, call:
(559) 767-2676

If I grow out my hair just a little bit longer, I think I can get my hair feathered. Then, glam shots! Anyone got black ribbed turtlenecks?
Glam shot of our Secretary of State

Tazzies on the Town

2007-10-30T18:51:00.000-07:00

Scientists are trying to bring back this animal, the Tazzie Tiger, which went extinct in the early 1900s. They apparently have enough DNA to clone it by using a tiger or some other feline as a surrogate parent. So I thought to myself- who would I bring back from the grave if I could? I propose the following celebrities/ personalities.

Edgar Allen Poe- His poems were so amazing, and he died tragically young. And he liked nature. I think that for bringing Poe back he would have to: A) recite his poems at a party of mine for Halloween or the Winter Solstice, B) Accompany me on shopping trips to freak out the other customers, and C) Accompany me on double dates with a girl that I choose for him. I think because he's kinda creepy and married his cousin, it would make me look really good.

Chester A. Arthur- Mainly because of his amazing mustache, his cool mutton chops, and his snazzy suit. Plus, you could go up to him and say: "Wow! It's Chester A. Arthur! We hardly knew ye!"

Mary Shelley- the author of Frankenstein. She could help me with A) finding corpse parts B) Assembling them into a monster, and C) Writing the great American novel (Although she's British, she would give me perspective).

Cher. I don't have a picture of her, but that's not really the point. I am really indifferent towards her music, but I'm not indifferent towards her Fresno-ness. She briefly attended Fresno High (she never graduated). But I take pride in the fact that she is a celebrity and from my home town and has A) never been in prison, B) doesn't belong in prison C) doesn't look or smell like she belongs in prison (Unlike K Fed), D) hasn't played someone who works in prison (Mayor Bubba excluded- he was more of celebrity), and E) hasn't been on Star Trek Voyager (like a certain Fresnan).

Not all of us are like Dick Clark, who took a thirty-year break from aging. Do I want the same kind of eternally young treatment? Maybe in a few years. I'm not quite at the peak of my pre-botox perfection.

Freemasons Make Good BBQ

2007-10-23T19:10:00.000-07:00

But they don't know how to advertise well.

That is just one of the things I have come to realize while I've been here in Florida.

The Freemasons hosted a $6 BBQ, and so my freemason co-worker invited me along. They roasted the chicken on cherrywood and used a good type of sauce. Boy, those freemasons must have good marinades as one of their little secrets!

Back in the day, they used to think that Mormons had horns. It makes sense. What else would explain our devilish good looks?

There are things called chiggers. They like to hide in the grass and in the Spanish moss that hangs from the trees. I am afraid of my little chigger buddies because they like to burrow into your skin and make you itch. Ouch! Everytime I walk under a tree I am so scared to have them brush into my hair, causing me to shave off my hair, cover my head in nail polish, and wait for the ouch to go away.

On Monday, I tried not to make any comments in my classes because I'm like Hermione Granger, raising my hand awkwardly before anyone else. I figured if I sit on my hands like I had to do in kindergarten everytime I get the urge to make a comment, I could do it. But 2 and 1/2 hours into the 6 hours of classes, I fell off the bandwagon. But where's my intervention?

Spanish Moss- the home of chiggers

A Bimberly by Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet

2007-10-14T15:53:00.000-07:00

I was shown this website a while back. It is amazing. I am asking all of you who read this to comment on which name is your favorite and should be adopted by more people. I honestly think this site could be for any state--there are crazy names everywhere--but I only know of one for Utah. My favorite is Bimberly.

http://wesclark.com/ubn /

I Love You Wikipedia

2007-10-07T06:55:00.001-07:00

Dear Wikipedia,

Thank you for helping me at work on Friday. You were there when my education failed me.

Love,

The Chad, who can plan

Announcement

2007-09-26T12:31:00.000-07:00

This is a very boring announcement to say that anyone may make a posting on this blog, regardless of their status as a blogger. I thought you'd all sleep easier now.

Things Dreams are Made of...

2007-09-23T14:58:00.000-07:00

Because of my background in languages, I've had dreams in weird languages. Once I had a dream in German, Finnish, and English. Everything was subtitled, but I couldn't read the subtitles (oddly enough).
In another, I saw ladybugs spelling out words in German on a paisley background. Very sixties.
In yet another, I was in the US, but everything looked like Finland, and everyone was Japanese.
In another dream, I was German Chancellor Helmut Kohl (my fourth favorite chancellor) and was meeting officials in German. Even my dreams are boring.
But not this one I had the other day.
It was scary. Scarier and worse than the dreams above.
I was speaking with a Southern accent.
I had to force myself to speak that way, and it wasn't my real accent, but I was talking with a drawl nonetheless.
I don't know why I so fear gaining a Southern accent. Maybe it's because I want to retain my 85% Californianess. Maybe it's out of sheer west-coast snobbery. But I was very scared that I will stop speaking like my Golden State compatriots.
On a lighter note, the following link (hopefully) will link you to a very funny but scary video that potentially could help my Finnish.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCgrG35-3js
Thanks Brad for the link.

Toblerone TV

2007-09-23T14:45:00.000-07:00

I know some people who live in Switzerland, so I figured that I'd start watching the tv broadcasts over the internet in German from Switzerland. The only problem: Swiss German is ugly. To put it more precisely, German's linguistic red-headed stepchild.

German's red-headed step-child.

'Nuff said.

They didn't have too much to say about Switzerland that was shocking- cow prices high, young people getting beat up- at least there was nothing about Election 2008.

I got a hold of one of the election poster's in the Swiss election. Some clown wants to kick out criminal aliens. I figured I'd probably be kicked out (If I were there and not in Florida) if it gets passed- some just can't handle the flava.

If I see anything I find interesting, I'll let you know.

Caption: Chad as a black sheep getting kicked out of Switzerland.

TV is fun for Chad

2007-09-20T11:57:00.000-07:00

So me and two colleagues in my program were highlighted in the Colbert Report. They guy in the orange is not me, but I am the guy on the end of the bench. In any case, I was highlighted on the show. Follow the link and go to the Word of the Day "Solitarity".
http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_colbert_report/index.jhtml
If the video changes, you may have to search in the archives.

It's a Crazy Crazy Crazy Crazy World

2007-09-17T19:16:00.000-07:00

The following article is from the Gainesville Sun, Gainesville's local newspaper. I was about 2 feet from where the guy was initially taken down onto the ground, at which point I moved to about eight or ten feet away. You can see me move to the end of the bench in the video. I warn you, it is a little disturbing.
http://gainesvillesun.com/article/20070917/NEWS/70917016/1002/NEWS

Feral is Fun!

2007-09-15T16:58:00.000-07:00

So my Growth Management class professor (and no, it is not a class about that special time in your life) mentioned feral cats, which are in fact my second favorite class of feral animals (feral goats are naturally my favorite). I found it rather odd considering that my neighborhood is undergoing its own special brand of feralization. Essentially, feral cats are taking over my neighborhood. Twice I have had to swerve to avoid hitting them. I suppose there must have been a dozen or so of them. Where do they come from and why are they here?

I know enough about evolution and biology, &c., so I can wager a guess as to how their numbers have increased. What is to be done about those feral cats? Or should they be here at all?

Pros of feral cats in the neighborhood:

Control of the lizard population. Potential minion pool. A ball of catnip + yarn + fresca = a memorable Saturday night. One of the cats reminds me of Dame Judi Dench (For its sake I hope it's not a tom).

Cons of the exploding feral cat population:

Potential accident from the swerving to avoid them. Vicious attacks from the leader cats. Feline AIDs, the #1 killer of cats. Pain associated with seeing cats fight: Why can't they all just get along?

I have narrowed my options down to four top choices:

1. Calling animal control. 2. Feeding the cats, thus building up an army of minion cats. 3. Giving the cats the Bob Barker treatment. 4. Getting in contact with Alf.

Where do the cats come from and why are they here? I suppose that is the existential question those feral cats are asking themselves right now.

Chad the Springfielder

2007-08-24T09:34:00.000-07:00

I thought you might like me as a Simpsonized character. Here I am. Does this really capture me well?

Thanks, Nama

No, Sorry I Can't Have that- I'm a Freegan

2007-08-10T12:35:00.001-07:00

This week I saw something about Freegans on the BBC news telecast BBC World News (yes, even my news choices are proper and British). Freegans are, for the lack of a better word, dumpster divers. The cheapest people in the world. And hence I salute you.

Freegans get their food from the dumpster instead of from the supermarket like us "normals." It's almost like a sport to them. They do it out of "political reasons" to "make a point."They get really excited when they find stuff that is valuable. Apparently, half of the food that is thrown out is perfectly edible. Would a dumpster change that? No way, say the freegans.

Fusing recommendations from the BBC and my extensive experience dumpster diving (I did go with a master freegan one time at a dumpster in back of a Domino's), I present to you my tips for a safe and pleasant freegan experience.

1. Supermarkets, restaurants, and rich condominiums are the best places to go.

2. Avoid needles or any sharp objects.

3. You know if it is bad if it: a) smells bad or b) tastes bad.

4. Gloves are preferable but not required.

5. If you find an unopened bag, you still need to inspect it before you eat it.

My freegan experience, if you may know, did not end up with my eating the food. The people who actually got the pizza out of the dumpster distributed it to people's doorsteps. One of my old roommates told me it tasted pretty good, if a bit luke warm.

I'll need to remember that this is all for "political reasons" to "help save the world." I do have a date coming up some time soon.

Caption: Me, with another former roommate and master freegan. I have covered his face with the Union Jack to protect his identity until he chooses, in his own time, to reveal himself.

Link to the Freegan story (text): http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/6933744.stm

Question

2007-08-06T10:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I learned the name of the person who has been living in my apartment for the past week. The problem is, however, I have seen this guy several times a day. Does it make me a bad person that it took me so long to find out his name?

Go, NOAA!

2007-07-31T09:08:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the hard-core hurricane season here in Florida (the normal-core season began in May). I don't know about you, but I am pumped. And to celebrate this fortuitous event, my first hurricane season in Florida, I will keep track of the storms that head toward Florida. Each day that a storm is on its way toward Florida, I will record its storm category as points and add up the total at the end of the season. Ten extra points if the hurricane makes landfall in the state. So, for example, if Hurricane Eugenia is a category 3 for 5 days and a category 1 for 4, the total is 3*5+1*4+(E=MC2). 19 points. At the end of the season I will compare scores and take the winning hurricane out to dinner.

Oh, this reminds me of church on Sunday. We had the combined Sunday meeting with all together. The topic was food storage/ plinko. That's right-they did the Price is Right to food storage. They gave people food and stuff if they got things right. I did discover, from everyone's wild and crazy behavior (I'm understating it) that the drug trade does move through Florida, too (and maybe starts here from Columbia). I participated in the revelry, too, but I get the wiggles real easy and have to sit on my hands at church to keep myself reverent. I think in the future I should volunteer to be the reverent child. It'll be fun because I can give everyone self-righteous stares and make them feel ashamed. I love my job.

Monkey(s)

2007-07-24T09:06:00.000-07:00

I was informed by my brother that I should actually get a helper monkey, maybe even two. One should be called Smoking Joe Frazier. He didn't specifiy the potential second monkey's name, but I think "On My Back: With a Vengence" would be a good name. On My Back, because it's a nice play on words, and With a Vengence to stay with the naming guidelines I outlined below.

There are numerous advantages to helper monkeys, particularly if they can change their own diapers (or help change each others' diapers). I've always wanted minions, and city planners really don't have minions as a rule. My monkeys/minions could wash my clothes, feed me, and collect brains from cadavers (this is a requirement to be called a minion). In addition, I should teach them how to use an ATM and roller skates (for nights at the roller rink).

PeTA and I

2007-07-18T09:37:00.000-07:00

So I think I might get a pet. And by thinking, I mean that I will obsess over it for about a week and then go back to the idea in a year or so.

I know I can't get a cat or a dog. I doubt my landlord would be OK with that, and I just don't have the time for the love required of dog ownership. I don't think I want a cat until I know how to train a cat to use a toilet, like on t.v., or to do my bidding. I'm contented right now with being the cool uncle to my sister's Boston terriers.

So I've settled on a small animal. Lizards, hamsters, mice, guinea pigs, or gerbils all come to mind. I even thought of a tarantula, but spiders creep me out unless, of course, the spider can pull its weight by stealing things or performing amusing tricks.

I've looked into getting a hobbit, but I don't think they export them from New Zealand. Because of the diseases there, really.

In any case, I have a naming philosophy for pets.

Option 1: Your pet's name has to be the exact opposite of you. A jock, for example, would have a Pomeranian named Mr. Squiggles. I could have a Great Dane named BoFlex.

Option 2: Your pet's name has to be the exact opposite of its own qualities. A Chihuahua would have to be G.I. Joe, or a German Shepherd would have to be called Pussywillow.

Option 3: State Capitals or State Names. Indiana, like the movie franchise Indiana Jones, is the most famous fictional example. Sacramento is a good name for a Minx cat.

Option 4: Add the name "Smokey" "Magic" or "Dusty" to any name whatsoever. I met a cat named Smokey Joe, and I believe that this philosophy really works.

Please let me know what you think about what I should get. I mainly want cheap, not disgusting, and fun to play, cuddle, or make mischief with.

And always remember to have your pet spayed or neutered.

2007-07-18T09:14:00.000-07:00

I now present to you, after a long delay, a new entry with a new feature:

Random Love From The Chad

Here are some things that I have learned since I have been here in the Deep South:

The Deep South isn't really Southern. If you'll notice on a globe, it's actually in the Northern Hemisphere, along with Mexico, America, America Jr., and Rand McNally.

The Deep South is, however, deep. Deep Fried. Mmmm Mmmm Good. I went to my first Southern BBQ place yesterday and I have to tell you, I mean y'all, that it is delicious.

Humidity also isn't that bad. To give a comparison, it's less pleasant than a John Tesh concert, but more so than a trip to the dentist.

People do have accents here. Southern ones, too. But it seems like each person has their own accent, some have the deep throaty drawl (like they just got up), some have the chain smoker goodness, while others have the I-can-rastle-an-alligator slurr. The latter category is the funnest.

Soylent green is actually people mixed with soy. Hence the name and the bad taste.

Great Britain doesn't actually exist. Whenever you see it, go there, or think about it, you're really dealing with the same studio in Idaho where they faked the Moon Landing 38 years ago this Saturday. Why else would the flag be waving, hmmm?

Cheese and wine, not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, get better with age.

π is equal to 3.14. You will never need to know the rest of the number.

And here's a picture of something you may enjoy. I certainly know I do:

My Confession to California

2007-07-03T20:42:00.000-07:00

Dear California,

It's been a good 23 years as a legal resident of your state. We've really had good times, and I will always consider myself a Californian at heart. Who knows, I may even come back to enjoy your bountiful treasures. But things have changed because I have someone else.

Her name is Florida, and I'm going there, well, because of money. It's nothing personal. She just offered me more money for school than you did. I don't think I'll ever feel about Florida like I do about you. But my opportunities and my life are headed in her direction. It's not you, it's me.

But I'll always remember the good times we had. Like those wonderful years in high school where I was really, really awkward. Or the sunny days that, well, I've never had any where else. Or the lack of swarms of mosquitoes and large bugs. I don't know if Florida could ever really offer that.

But please remember all the good times we've had.

Sincerely,

Chad Can Plan

Plain Language

2007-06-26T20:27:00.000-07:00

There were many words that confused me as a child because they weren't what they sounded like.

Take butterfly, for instance. It isn't really a fly. It isn't really butter. And it tastes icky (I'd like a second opinion though). Why did we name this insect after something it's not?

Or euthanasia. I thought to myself: "They're young. They're sexy. They're hip. They're Asian. What Chinese person doesn't look fondly on their euthanasia?" And then I found out what euthanasia was. So I changed my opinion of the matter.

Or buttermilk. It doesn't taste like butter or milk. I know this because I performed this experiment as a 9 year-old. I took milk and, well, Molly McButter because I somehow thought it work better than regular butter (powder dissolves better than solid butter does, as you may know). The result was, well, disappointing. And gagging. It was 10 years before I tried the real thing.

The same principle holds true for making orange julius from milk and powdered Tang. I learned the hard way.

Crossing the Boundary

2007-06-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

So there's this whole immigration debate. Now I know that you don't like to talk politics, and I only do so when I feel particularly frisky, but living with an official in the immigration service (aka dad) I don't really know if it's politics or the family business. That said, I thought I'd present my plan for a point system to allow immigration to the USA.

You need 75 points out of a 100 to enter. There are four categories, with 25 points each. I prefer the holistic approach, which focuses on different aspects of the individual.

Category #1: Awesomeness. This requires the applicant to prove if he or she is cool enough. Men must prove the ability to grow a really awesome mustache. Points are given for fullness, form, and pizazz. If the man cannot grow a mustache, implants and/or prosthetics are permitted. Women are generally awesome anyways, but I think they should be given something like how well they can make an omelet or change a flat tire.

Category #2: Smartness. All applicants must be able to spell the states and the District of Columbia, in descending alphabetical order á la Drop Dead Gorgeous. One half-point will be given for each correct answer (you don't have to do Missouri- it's not really a state).

Category #3: Family ties/ Skills. This was a controversial part of the process, but I decided to give 50% for having a cool family member already in the USA (like someone with mad nun chuck skills or a pony) and 50% for having a valuable skill such as lion taming, pie baking, or a PhD.

Category #4: Obstacle course. We're talking potato sack races, tug-o-war, relay races with sponges, water, and buckets, or something from Double Dare (slime, anyone?). Points are awarded for how well you did in the race, with extra points given if you can humiliate an opponent in the process.

I thought I'd take the test (well, theoretically at least). I would give myself 24 points for the mustache (see left). I'd also get 20 points for the smartness (it helps because I did take several geography courses) and 20 points for being a city planner (we're cool, you know). The obstacle course would be hard. I'm only giving myself 10 points, because I couldn't handle any monkey bars, and I never really mastered the jungle gym. That leaves me with 74 points and a problem...

Maybe Canada will let me in. I hear their obstacle course is a lot easier.

Planning My Next Move

2007-06-17T16:24:00.000-07:00

With only two and a half weeks to go till I move to Florida, I thought I'd make a list of travel plans, you know, some things I should do or have ready for the trip.

1. First Aid Kit for the Flight. $16 at the pharmacy. The best one I found has a glow stick with it. You never know when a 747 Jumbo Jet could become a hard-core rave, and you'd definitely not want to be without a glow stick (see diagram below).

2. Prison Story for the bus trip. Although buses aren't part of the equation, at least at this stage, I figured I should have a prison story handy just in case. I'm having a hard time deciding between tax evasion, or serial arsonist. I'm guessing arsonist because that requires less thought in making it elaborate and interesting. "You see, I just got so mad, that I had to torch my ex-wife's Honda..." "It's just the government getting you down, man."

3. Alligator repellant. I think I can make one out of duct tape, blankets, a garbage bag, and a pool net. That's what I used to capture and release a bird out of my living room with, so I think if I just use a heavier-duty trash bag, it'll work.

If you think of anything else I'll need, hurry quick and tell me because Florida's coming in just a couple weeks.

Unibrow Eunice

2007-06-17T15:42:00.001-07:00

I'd like you to meet Eunice.

She's special to me because she helps me illustrate an important point:

Sin is like a unibrow. You know it's ugly, everyone else knows it's ugly, but until you do something about it, until you pluck it off, it's going to be with you 24/7.

And while plucking it out is painful, its rewards are endless.

I plan on using Eunice in talks, lessons, interviews, parole hearings, and nursery. She's so in-your-face and direct that there's no forgetting her message.

And she fits really nicely on a 24" by 18" blue felt board.

To set the record straight

2007-06-14T19:55:00.000-07:00

In the interest of full disclosure, I thought I would add that I thought my coworker who called me Carl was actually two different people- I think he alternates between glasses and contacts. Oh, and I thought his name was Rick or Tom, but turned out to be something different. Ooops!

A Chad By Any Other Name...

2007-06-14T12:20:00.000-07:00

My week-long adventure ended yesterday.
Yup. I broke the news to my coworker yesterday that my name was, in fact, not Carl but Chad. He had been calling me Carl for the past week and a half and, well, I didn't have the heart to break it to him that my name is Chad.
It actually happened rather gradually. He first called me Carl, and I thought he was talking to someone else. The second time, I thought he might be talking to me, but I wasn't quite sure. The third time-the clincher-he said, "Good Morning Carl," and I knew he was speaking directly to my soul. But he had passed the corner too fast for me to correct him, and I wanted so desperately in my heart to yell out: "I'm Chad, but thank you anyways." But it was too late. The rest of the time, well, I just let it slide. What's wrong with being a Carl? Carl Weathers, Carl Rove, Carlton from "Fresh Prince of Bel Air" (well, half way there), and Carl the Great (AKA Charlemagne). But I knew that I had to be true to myself. So yesterday, when we sat down to lunch, he said: "Good afternoon, Carl." I just had to break it to him gently.
"You know, uh, my name's actually Chad."
"Then why did you let me call you Carl for so long?"
Despite the fact that I wanted to lie and say that I have an imaginary friend named Carl he was supposedly talking to who likes comic books and comes to work with me, I had to face up and tell him the truth:
"You were gone so fast, that, I, um um um, didn't have time to correct you."
He accepted this explanation, and everyone was content.

But oh, to be Carl again....

Why I'm Not a Military Man

2007-06-10T16:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went paintballing with my coworkers. Yes, I'm as surprised as you are. I actually had a very fun time. But I realized that I would make a horrible soldier. Amazingly, I didn't a) soil myself, b) cry a lot, or c) surrender like,

well, you know.

Most of the time, I hid behind rocks and trees. I even walked across the fields in the open at times. The reason I won't make a good soldier is that I didn't know what to do when I got shot. I basically just stood there and got hit. Nope, I didn't run for cover, nor did I fire back. I just stood there like a deer in headlights. I think that would make me a bad soldier.

So when it comes to it, I wouldn't hesitate to volunteer for the army if my country needed me. But would my country want me? Probably not.

Dramatization of me

playing paintball

Things that Go Bump in the Day

2007-06-10T09:15:00.000-07:00

Well, in order to set the background for my next post, I thought I'd like to reveal to you my hidden secret. Ok here it goes:

I'm afraid of almost everything.

Yup, that's right. Pretty much everything. George Washington, the open ocean, cardboard, Maury Povich, and the Fonz all give me the heebie jeebies. That's not even to mention my black cat Squishy, unknown dogs , and especially flying objects both unidentified and identified. In fact, the only things that don't give me the willies are things that often make other people's flesh crawl. Namely,

Clowns. Know your enemy, and know it well.

Not Without My Baby 4

2007-06-06T12:27:00.000-07:00

So the thought came to me today that I should chuck this whole city planning thing and become an actor. Why? I really can't say other than that it's not a crime to impersonate an actor while I guess it is to impersonate a city planner.

I think I'll get started doing something small, like a made-for-cable-tv-movie. I've basically narrowed it down to two networks: LMN (Lifetime Movie Network) and G4 (The Nerd Channel). I think that I'll pick the lowest common denominator and go with LMN. Now you may be questioning my masculinity going for such a choice (and you're right to do so), but I'd just like to say that during my 3 1/2 weeks of unemployment I did some things I'm not proud of, like spending 15 minutes watching LMN. Please Don't Judge Me.

So I thought I'd start with something very small and low-budgety, like Not Without My Baby 4, the saga of a woman to get her baby back AT ALL COSTS. Two possible roles come to mind for me: bumbling East German official, or delivery truck driver. I especially like the delivery truck driver option because I could use footage of me as a delivery truck driver in my possible life as a professional delivery truck driver. In any case, the movie would have to feature me doing an awkward who-on-earth-would-say-that-in-real-life kind of line like: "All will be well if we follow the leader's plan." After dangerous encounters and glamourous headshots, the movie would end with an amazing song by an 80's big hair band and the credits rolling over a tropical sunset.

I really haven't thought how I'd pursue my career from there. Possibly I would have the option to star in Double Mint gum commercials with my real-life twin Mickey Rooney, or I would have to (Grrrrrr) become a VJ on MT2. Wish me luck everybody.

Quotes that Show why I love the Simpsons

2007-06-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd share some of my favorite Simpson's quotes because, well, our nice large HD TV broke after 4 1/2 years. Enjoy!

"It will be a cold day in heck before I recognize Missour-ah!" Grandpa Simpson in response to why his flag only has 49 stars.

"Freemasons run the country." The germs on Wayland Smither's face when Mr. Burns runs the casino.

Ralph Wiggum: "Daddy, these rubber pants are hot."
Chief Wiggum: "You'll wear 'em till you learn son."

Homer: "Twenty Dollars?! But I wanted a peanut!"
Homer's Brain: "Twenty dollars can buy many peanuts."
Homer: "Explain how."
Homer's Brain: "Money can be exchanged for goods and services."

Lisa: "They say I'm pretty smart."
Madam Wu: "And they said Tibet was pretty independent."
(From the episode where the Simpsons go to China)

Hodgepodge of Fun

2007-06-02T17:54:00.000-07:00

Some thoughts came to me today. Some very deep thoughts about life.

Like today, I was driving down Fresno Street (in Fresno, CA) and saw a bank, who's name was Rabobank.
On first sight, however, it looked like Robobank. I thought of RoboTellers, RoboLenders, and RoboATMs. Then, my mind drifted to the Saturday Night Live Commercial where a man is selling robot insurance to a group of senior citizens. His voice warns potential victims of the cold, steel arms that could attack them when they least expect it. I'm scared.

I also saw the video for the winner of the German version of American Idol, A.K.A. Deutschland Sucht den Superstar (Germany Seeks the SuperStar). His name is Mark, and he did what no man I know has ever done: Grown a goatee and a flavor-saver patch-like thing at the same time, grown out the flavor-saver patch to, say, four inches, and given it blond highlights. Brilliant. I would like to know what the ladies out there have to say about this feat of cosmetology.

I also discovered that the secret ingredient is love--and butter.

For those of you who would like to view the flavor-saver-like thing in all its glory, here is the very long link to it. Please enjoy in moderation.
http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.theclix.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/markmedlock.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.theclix.com/2007/05/06/gefuhlskonig-mark-medlock-ist-neuer-superstar-und-jetzt/&h=350&w=233&sz=39&hl=en&start=51&tbnid=qmhapMZEKjwdpM:&tbnh=120&tbnw=80&prev=/images%3Fq%3D%2522Mark%2BMedlock%2522%26start%3D40%26gbv%3D2%26ndsp%3D20%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN

I'm Fixin' to Write A Blogpost

2007-05-19T10:24:00.000-07:00

Hey, y'all. Since I'll be moving to a college town in the South ( Gainesville, FL), I thought I'd check out some of the slang down there in Dixie. So I did a Google search and came up with this website (http://littlerock.about.com/cs/southernlife/a/aasouthslang.htm). I thought that, for your amusement, I would take the slang, ignore the definitions, and tell y'all what I think they should mean based on their sound. For the real definitions, see the website above. Enjoy!

Cattywampus- A ceremony in which a cat is doused with water and ridiculed with harsh sarcasm, followed by catnip-induced fun all around. This is generally only performed by Uncle Billy every time he gets into the "cough syrup."

Frog Gig- Musical performance with violins, accordians, well-trained frogs and other swamp creatures.

Grab a Root- A trip to the grocery store before a long haul in the ol' big rig.

Piddlin'- **This definition cannot be displayed as the mere mention of it has been banned in Britain**

Pokeweed- Tobacco/tobackie, of the normal and wacky varieties.

Scarce as Hen's Teeth- Phrase that indicates anger or low intelligence: "Why, his wits are as scarce as hen's teeth," or "His patience is as scarce as hen's teeth right now. You'd best not bother 'im."

Washateria- This is a business establishment where a laundromat has been combined with a cafeteria. Despite its functionality and potential use a community center, it never really got out of the just-written-down-on-a-cocktail-napkin planning stage.

Yeens- Confused, as in "Why, I don't know what's wrong with the old Cadillac. I'm simply in the yeens about the whole matter."

I'm Smoking HOT

2007-05-16T18:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I found out that the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) is coming out with new rules for ratings. We're in for a large round of changes. Namely, that any movie that glamorizes smoking will receive an automatic R rating because of inappropriate content. Never mind that people actually, *gasp*, smoke in public places no lessall the time. I was frankly taken aback at this because, well, who doesn't love the fresh scent of tobacco and stale booze in bus depots, casinos, and tattoo parlors? Nevertheless, people will still try to express their love of tobacco in movies and television. The following is my prediction of specific scenarios where tobacco use will occur on the big and little screen:

* Chewing tobacco. I can picture a celebrity, say [Insert name of a famous, wild and partying 20-something here] chewing a nice wad of tobacco and spitting it out, getting her nice dress covered in brown, yummy chaw juice. This naturally leads to...

* Spittoons everywhere. They have such a nice retro 1870s look to them. I bet you could find some at a flea market in Kentucky or West Virginia. Imagine your favorite crime or mob drama with grandpa's old spittoon in it.

* Snuff. Sure, you may deplore the damage it does to, well, everything above your navel, but it's not a cigarette, so it won't warrant an 'R' rating. Plus, you can rediscover the joys of 1640s-science in smearing a chunky brown carcinogen on your gums or inhaling it into a bodily orifice.

Seriously, folks. Don't smoke- not only because smoking causes cancer, but because it'll warrant you an R.

The plant in question. Photo courtesy of the USDA.

Three Wishes

2007-05-08T12:52:00.000-07:00

The other day, someone asked me what I thought about the weather here in Fresno. Naturally, the topic soon turned to what I'd do with three wishes, should I ever be granted any. Now, some people want crazy things like money, the ability to fly, or fame and fortune. That's fine and dandy for some, but I think it's rather impractical. I thought I'd let y'all know what I'd do with three wishes.

For starters, I really only need two.

Wish #1: Teleportation Powers. Because flying takes too long. Let's face it, if you wanted to, say, feed a kangaroo in Australia for lunchtime, you'd have to fly all the way there and back. And let's face it, that would just take too long. Teleportation gives you all the benefits of flying without the hastle of dodging planes, bugs, and mountains. Okay, you may not have the thrill of flying, but you'd get there faster and could even bring a friend. And you play some really cool pranks- Peekaboo anyone?

Wish #2: A crime-fighting tiger. One that would let me ride and pet it, and one that would have the temperament of a well-trained German shepherd. Think of it: not only would I have a tiger, but the tiger would benefit the community by stopping criminals. Plus, the tiger would let me ride it with my locks of man-beautiful hair flapping in the wind (Is there really any other way to ride a tiger?). The following is an artist's/my rendering in a JPEG of what the tiger would look like.

I'd technically have one wish left, but I don't think I'd really need it because my first two wishes are so cool. Now, you may be think that I should use my last wish to end world poverty or bring world peace, but I think you're being selfish and should get your own three wishes.

Howdy Y'all

2007-04-29T21:16:00.000-07:00

Hey, I thought I'd make a blog to keep in touch with people and share my insights. For example, today I moved back to California for a couple months after three years in Utah. The biggest difference I've noticed so far is that milk tastes a lot better here. It's creamier, it's sassier, it's-well-Californianer. My remaining weeks in California will involve tasting every brand of milk and every variety (fat free, 1%, etc.) to scientifically confirm whether this is true. I'll keep y'all posted when any breaking news occurs.