We got motherfuckin' snakes!

I'm in love with Snakes on a Plane. I've sent out an email declaring my love. If you didn't get it, drop me a line and I'll send it your way. It's possible that you have your email client set to "Plain text only", meaning that you won't be able to see the images. I'd post the images here, but the storage and bandwidth would kill me. Well, maybe not the bandwidth; as far as I can tell, only three people read this blog. However, one of those three is my mortal nemesis, so (s)he might hit "Refresh" a million times, resulting in insane bandwidth use. Meh. Snakes on a plane. That's what having a mortal nemesis is all about.

You're such monumental slime / Let the punishment fit the crime

Neil Hamburger on Jimmy Kimmel the other night:

George Bush is the worst president in US history ...

[applause]

... which is ironic, because his son, George W. Bush, is the best president in US history.

I want to make a mix cd. If anyone wants one, let me know. It may just be Oneida's "Sheets of Easter" repeated 5 times ... or it may not.

I'm a touch tipsy. Justin and I went to the Roxy for wings this evening. I looked at the other patrons and couldn't help but think, "Shouldn't you be getting jobs? Shouldn't you be saving for rent? How could you possibly afford $5 for wings?" Said the guy with the spending problem. Yeesh.

This afternoon I was confronted about my recent lackadaisical attitude toward everything. I don't know ... It's a lack of enthusiasm about functional programming, probability density functions, and logistic regression. It's a general uncertainty about my suitability as a professional "Computer Scientist". What can I do? I've tried anxiety, hair loss, substance abuse, and dating mall employees; all I've got left is internet shopping and listlessness. Perhaps I should try talking to someone other than a Ronco operator.

I was reading my ex-girlfriend's blog. It's weird to think of her as an ex-girlfriend. Looking back, it's more like "She's someone who saw me naked a lot last April." Anyway, she wrote a very emo post about moving out of her apartment and feeling like a failure and wanting one more night on her sun porch "with you" (me?) ... and all I could think was, "There'll be a free couch on the sidewalk next week." I bet if Ol' Whatserface weren't busy with school, she'd totally be into joining me in a stake-out of SawMeNakedLastApril's sidewalk in the hopes of scoring a free couch. Can you imagine what I'd accomplish with three couches in my livingroom? Look on my couches, ye mighty, and despair!

"Almost average" implies "close to above average", right?

I did poorly on my Prolog midterm. Not as poorly as I'd expected, but still poorly. I came in just under the average, which was 52%. The midterm is worth 25% of the grade. Doing the math, it means I wish I hadn't done the math.

Quite unintentionally, news of my poor performance led to my being rude to Colleen. I apologized soon after, but twelve hours later I still feel like an asshole for doing it.

On the plus side, I'm not as big an asshole as Michael Jordan.

My brain is filled with facts like "Michael Jordan is an asshole", which may be part of the reason there's less room for Prolog proficiency. Then again, I don't know how my brain is organized. Perhaps it's layered, like a layered software architecture: Data Storage on the bottom, Logic in the middle, and User Interface at the top. In such a case, "Michael Jordan is an asshole" goes on the bottom, writing good Prolog programs is in the middle, and my captivating eyes are on top.

On the Something Awful forums, some tiresome jerk started a thread about his dating rules. Reading his list, it's quite clear why he's single (errors not corrected):

1. I work in New Meida. I study and apply my thoughts in media technology. You need to be able to converse in these topics.
   
2. Conversation means being able to talk or learn about the things I’m talking about, not just listen. You should expect the same from me.
   
3. If you find the following 'scary,' do not bother:
   * Art, Math, Science, Engineering, Programing, Computers, SA's Alaska
   
4. No really, I won’t change for you. I may be perfect to you, you may love me, but I will not change my entire life for you.
   
5. If you get the reference to the rule above, then there is hope.
   
6. I’m not gay.
   
7. I love musical theatre. See above.
   
8. I graduated from Emerson College. See above.
   
9. I don’t like sports. See Above.
   
10. I can’t spell. Fucking deal.
    
11. You need to be doing something wonderful with your life.
    
12. I am looking for a woman to believe in me, and whom I can believe in.
    
13. The following need not apply:
    * Men of any form need not apply.
    * Under 21 or over 29 NO EXCEPTIONS
    * I voted not-Bush. Don't like it? Move on.
    * Hard-core Red Sox Fans
    * Hard drug users
    * Born-again Christians
    * * If two plus two equals Jesus for you, then there's something very wrong with you.
    
14. I have friends in many different backgrounds. My true friends are very important in my life. I'm not picky with the background of my friends. I want my mate to be as open.
    
15. I find women who look good in corsets very sexy.
    
16. Do not expect me to be your cash cow. Go post on Craigslist if you want a sugar daddy.
    
17. Make a fucking decision!!!
    
18. It takes a bit for me to start flirting with you physically. I’m very cautious of offending, so I need to make sure it’s welcomed.
    
19. Physical attraction is mandatory. No exceptions.
    
20. For anything sexual to occur, you must be disease free.
    
21. Long-distance relationships will not work. No exceptions.
    
22. When on a date and a committed relationship has not been established, do not take me to a clothing store.
    
23. For a first date, movies, theatre, or any similar entertainment where I can not talk to the person I'm dating is forbidden.
    
24. I drink. It's OK if you don't, but don't be a tool about it.
    
25. If you tell me you like me when you're drunk, I can't fully beleive you. If you tell me the next day you meant it, then I will believe you.
    
26. If you are waiting for marriage or engagement till you have sex, move on.
    
27. All races are datable in my book.
    
28. In order for me to have sex with you, you must have voted in the 2004 Presidental Election.
    * If not eligiable for that election, waviers can be granted.

Sometimes it's really easy to hate people. And sometimes it's really easy to love people. Witness one of the responses to that post:

My rules
1. No means yes
2. Yes means in the butt

Love will survive!

I'll miss you most of all, Nyquil.

My new record player is awesome. It's so awesome that I don't think I need more than the two records I already have. Oh, that sounds terrible, doesn't it?

I'm finally getting over my cold. It's a blast not being in misery, but I'm having trouble moving away from the "feed a cold" strategy which was so much fun this last week; I ate four meals today -- that was awesome, though not as awesome as the record player.

I found out that Bruce Campbell's Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way is available as an audiobook at Apple's iTunes Music Store. It's pretty steep at $24.99, but I guess that's as much as the book itself and for that price you get several hours of Bruce Campbell's dulcet tones making everything ok. I'd like to think that Bruce Campbell would be cool to meet, but he doesn't seem to suffer fools or sycophants gladly and I have few other tools in my "Meeting Cool Bastards" toolbox.

Are the sentences getting longer, or am I getting shorter? Personally, I'm just glad that the Post Secret guy has mostly moved away from the fancy juxtaposition garbage he tried in the October 16 update. The latest update has one card that reads "I am 33 and have been married for 11 years. I've slept with 68 men so far in my life. My husband was only #43." That makes me want to cry. And shower. And wonder if this postcard was written by one of the fine ladies on the Dave Bushnell Wall of Fame, and if so, what number I was.

I know I was one girl's 100th, because afterwards she gave me a cake and threw confetti. That's classy (and a lie), and it makes me wonder if I should give out party favours as a nice post-coital thank you. "Hey, that was super. Have some jelly beans and a scratch-off card."

Speaking of which (?), while I was the iTunes Music Store I picked up the audiobook of Robert Evans' The Kid Stays in the Picture, read by the man himself. I haven't listened to it yet (it's six hours long) but I'm hoping it's as life-affirming as the first two chapters of The Da Vinci Code were rage-inducing. (Relax, that was an illegal download, not an iTunes purchase. I'm a thief, not an idiot.)

On Saturday I watched The Machinist, aka Lose 80 Pounds the Christian Bale Way. Keeping one eye on the clock as it played, I noted that at 84 minutes I was ready for the movie to end. It ended at 96 minutes. Thus, the movie was 12 minutes too long. I think I'd like to try rating movies that way -- when I've had enough of the movie, I'll look at the time, and then I'll note the time at the end of the movie and that will be my judgement: "This movie was XX minutes too long." For movies that are not long enough, I'll note how much time after the movie I'll spend wishing I were still watching the movie: "This movie was XX minutes too short." The Lady Vanishes (either version, really) was at least 7 minutes too short.

It makes at least as much sense as the Capalert system. Is Capalert fake? How the fuck should I know. This is the end of his review for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory:

I may do a comparative of this film with Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory of 1971. Having seen it, I expect it to earn near the same score as this 2005 version. If we can afford to do so. I still have to pay for the transportation to get it. And the food, housing, electricity, insurance, medical /prescription/dental, school expenses, clothing, ...

OK, what? First of all: that weird comma-ellipsis ending was all his. Second: what? If this guy is not insane, then I clearly don't know the meaning of the word. And if he is insane, I hope it's not a Machinist-style insanity; how many arms must Michael Ironside lose before we've learned our lesson?!

We'll call this round a draw

My cold is getting neither better nor worse. I tried to sleep for most of the afternoon, but was largely unsuccessful and ended up lumbering around in a Nyquil zombie haze. I was unsure if [whatever I was feeling] was the cold or the Nyquil.

I tried the old "feed a cold" remedy, but I started running out of food. I made a heavenly vegetable curry in response, but am hesitant to gorge on it for fear of running out too quickly. I wanted to try adding spaghettini to the curry after seeing Jillian do that a couple of weeks ago -- heretofore I've been a staunch curry-with-rice advocate -- but the only pasta I have in the house is rotini. My curry-with-rotini is comical, but delicious like you wouldn't believe.

I'm awaiting delivery of my new record player (or "turntable" for you kids). Getting screwed over by FedEx is a new and wondrous experience, compared to my now-routine screwing over by UPS; who knows what mind-fuckery FedEx will attempt? On Friday I got the "Delivery attempted while you were out" sticker, so I called and asked them to re-attempt on Tuesday (you know, today). After my class this morning I came home and got doped up (see first paragraph) and waited for my new record player (or "turntable" for you kids). Around 3:30 I started getting anxious, so I checked the tracking details online. Check it out:

Date/Time

Activity

Location

Details

Oct 14, 2005

8:31 PM

Delivery exception

EDMONTON, AB

Customer not available or business closed

2:01 PM

Delivery exception

SASKATOON, SK

Customer not available or business closed

Edmonton! It's my understanding that the drive from Saskatoon to Edmonton takes ... a lot of hours ... more than six and a half, certainly ... so either the driver flipped out and stole a rocket car along with my package, or the driver drove to the airport and stuck my package on an Edmonton-bound plane. I called FedEx and the customer service dude was baffled. He also noted that my package was not on an outgoing truck today, ie my package was not going to be delivered today, despite Friday's request to the contrary.

And see, I have a plan for the next time I'm going to get screwed by UPS. I'm going to have to drive out to their depot for sure, so I'll wear a shirt on which I will have written "Fuck UPS", and they'll be upset, and I'll say, "No, it's not 'Fuck the United Parcel Service'. It's 'Fuck-ups' -- it's the name of my band!" and they'll be happy and I'll be murdering them with my mind. As B-grade an idea as that is (ok, maybe low-B, high-C), I've yet to give thought to a similar shirt for FedEx. I don't even know where to begin with such a shirt. Perhaps I've devoted too much thought to this as it is.

I'm coming down with something ...

And for once it's not the clap. Finally!

No, really, I think I'm getting a cold or some such. I'm a huge baby, so if you could find it in your heart to offer me 30 seconds of silent pity in your day, I'd appreciate it. Of course, if you're one of my mortal enemies, you're more than welcome to spend 30 seconds gloating silently. I would do the same for you!

I got the new Modey Lemon CD in the mail today, which would be really exciting if I hadn't downloaded it a week ago. It sounds very little like their first album, and they've got a third member now, and they're veering further and further into D&D territory with the lyrics, but it's still pretty great. And hey, I'm thanked in the liner notes; you'll find me at the end, filed under "everyone else we might have missed". Chin up, kid; someday you'll be tight with a band like I am with Modey Lemon, and you'll get thanked in the liner notes, too.

Today I also got my first two DVD's from zip.ca: The Lady Vanishes (sadly not the one with Elliott Gould and Cybill Shepherd; guess I'll make do with Hitchcock's version) and Sam Fuller's Naked Kiss. I wish they'd implement the thing that Netflix does, where you get an email every time a DVD is sent out to you and an email every time they receive a DVD from you. I'm not sure how long I'll stick with Zip; the DVD's were pretty well jammed into my mailbox; the nearest processing center is in the next province over; and between school, Hawaii Five-0, self-abuse, and checking Crooksandliars.com, I have very little time for recreational DVD watching.

Oh, I should go to bed. *cough cough* See? Sick.

Lest I forget: since changing ringtones I've received exactly one call on my cellphone. I answered it while it was still in vibrating mode, so I've yet to be pleasantly surprised by Amy Poehler telling me that she wants to kick ass so bad. Ah well.

*cough cough*

Ringtones

Well, they're not really "tones" so much as "sounds" from "Upright Citizens Brigade Season 1" in "MP3" format.

Sound the first

Sound the second


One or the other will be heard when my phone rings, but this should not be construed as an invitation to call me when I'm in class, makin' time with the ladies, or getting beat up.

Wait for it ...

When I've got more time tomorrow, I'll post my new ringtones. For now, it's back to the Stats homework.

Huuuuuuu-rah!

You think it's going somewhere, but it's not

I'm what you might call "American", but thanks to peer pressure I felt obligated to observe Canadian Thanksgiving the other day.

I'm also what you might call "a timid cook", so I was in no position to buy a frozen turkey.

"Hey," I thought (or maybe said aloud; living alone, these things tend to happen). "I can do just do it hobo-style by buying a Hungry-Man turkey dinner."

Alas, the Extra Foods on Broadway doesn't seem to stock the Hungry-Man turkey dinner; they had only the Salisbury steak and fried chicken. Initially disappointed, I realized it was a good thing they didn't have it, as I'd surely have been pegged a loser as soon as everyone saw me with a single-serving turkey dinner on Thanksgiving. And god knows I need the approval of the staff and clientele of the Extra Foods on Broadway.

I ended up buying samosas and brie and crackers at the Bulk Cheese Warehouse. It was a non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but I'm a non-traditional Canadian ... you know, what with being American and all.

In hindsight, I'm not certain eating a Hungry-Man turkey dinner on Thanksgiving can be considered "doing it hobo-style". It's not that I don't think hobos have microwaves (the fabled "Mountains of Hobo Gold" surely pay a fine dividend), but rather that hobos are a free-spirited lot who don't follow the Man's calendar and his capitalist holidays.

Ah, there I go confusing hobos and hippies again.

No, I think hobos are a sentimental lot who love to gather in their underpass chalets on Thanksgiving and feast on wild turkeys and Wild Turkey. The only folks who buy the Hungry-Man turkey dinner on Thanksgiving are the truly desperate: the smack addict, the recent parolee, the 30-year-old computer science student. Glad I'm not one of those -- as someone told me recently, I'm 30 and a half!

No way, Alien Fish-Man

At the wedding, Mike Green was telling us about a lively discussion he moderated in his Grade 12 Honours English class. The discussion concerned who was the most "human", and the candidates included: a person in a coma; an imprisoned homicidal sociopath; a vat-grown human clone; and an alien fish-man. There were others, but they are lost to a combination of Mike not remembering them initially and me not remembering now.

Mike told us that the ultimate winner was Person in a Coma. One guy at the wedding was obsessed with this issue, and over the weekend he favoured various candidates, all of them wrong. On Sunday morning I quickly figured out why the kids advocating Person in a Coma were right. (I really hadn't given it too much thought until then, but when I heard Talkative Wrong Boy still going at it a full day later, I had to end it.)

It's not that Person in a Coma is the most human, exactly; it's that Person in a Coma has the fewest number of inhuman traits. Sociopath and Vat-Clone and Alien Fish-Man are more inhuman than Person in a Coma, and are thus less human. Person in a Coma wins by default.

I felt kinda smart after figuring that out. I also felt kinda smart when Trish's roommate was impressed that I'd seen Nathan Barley. Perhaps Mike can get his class to discuss whether a fella who feels smart for knowing and thinking about inconsequential things is actually smart, or is just judging himself on a favourable sliding scale.

The most memorable discussion I remember from Grade 12 Honours English was "Who can keep his lips on the teacher's ass the longest?" The discussion lasted for nine months. I lost when I corrected the teacher on the etymology of "shark" ... although that occurred in Grade 11 (same teacher), so I guess I lost before we even started. Ah well. Just one more reason to get the "Born to Lose" tattoo.

Weekend of luuuuuuv

Wow, what a good weekend.

Except for anything involving driving, it was just about perfect. I got into Toronto Pearson on time, got my luggage quickly, patted myself on the back for reserving a rental car because the entire airport had run out of rentals, and promptly got lost four times on the way to Trish's place. What was supposed to take twenty minutes took an hour and a half instead.

Trish was as great as ever, what with the stories and the eggplant parmesan and the excitable dog. We went to the hipster video store and rented The Brown Bunny, aka Chloe Sevigny Gives Vincent Gallo a Blowjob. We laughed at it until Trish fell asleep forty minutes in, and then the film got really dark and I ended up completely impressed by it. Sure, it was pretty self-indulgent -- the extent of the opening credits is

Starring
Vincent Gallo

Written Produced
Directed Edited
by Vincent Gallo

-- but the air of "I don't give a fuck if I ever make another movie" gave it a sort of integrity. Maybe that's why I'm not getting blowjobs: a distinct lack of integrity.

The next morning I ended up ridiculously harried because my plan to drive north for Mike and Jessica's wedding did not account for holiday weekenders driving en masse to their cottages in the north. Thoughts encountered while sitting in stop-and-go traffic included "I should have put my garment bag in the front seat, because then I could change while stuck in traffic"; "I wonder if Jessica would forgive me for missing the ceremony"; "The left lane is for passing, assholes"; and "'Where Have All the Cowboys Gone' is still one of the dumbest songs ever written."

The ceremony was at 3 pm, and I got to the lodge at 2:05. Booyah! The ceremony was right on the edge of the lake. The guests blew bubbles. The flowergirls complained about the length of the ceremony. The custom vows had no mention of blasting across the alkali flats in a hovercraft, but that's ok.

God, this post is taking forever. To sum up: drinks, laughs, cheese, dancing to the Jackson 5. Overall happiness for all involved. Way to go, Mike and Jessica!

Yup

Based on all the available evidence, it would appear that I prefer watching Hawaii Five-O to showering and getting ready for school.

Bursting with love ... and flavour!

For the last week or so, I've been having weird bursts of affection for the people around me. I don't quite understand it. I think it might be because I'm in my intellectual and emotional happy place, or as close as I can get to it. Yesterday I was in Paradigms of Programming Languages and wanted to pass a note to Kevin and Colleen that read, "Hey, I love you guys." Hell, I was even tolerant of Eating Guy, but that might have been his lack of canned tuna that morning.

I'm reminded of a recent Arrested Development ...

GOB: I'm feeling this emotion I don't understand ... It's not envy, and it's not hungry ...
Michael: It's love.
GOB: I think I know what an erection feels like, Michael.

I was in the Spinks lab until after midnight last night. Linus Torvalds wants our project to fail, that Swedish fuck. I got all the 370 deliverables edited and whatnotted, but I wasted four discs trying to get just one disc that was readable under Linux. Classmate John burned one for me on his laptop, and that didn't work. Neville came out of his 370 meeting but was stymied ... also, he may have had larger concerns, what with discovering that Java already does everything their group wanted to program; thus the late-night meeting to salvage their project.

I'm flying to Toronto this afternoon. I'm going to see all the people I'm in love with. I'm probably going to be crying tears of love (or envy or hungry) all weekend. Good lord, is this LiveJournal?

Floss

This morning I got a call from my dentist telling me that in a few weeks it will be time for my six-month check-up. That means that I have a few weeks to start flossing. Failing that, it means that I have a few weeks to go to a temp dentist, get my teeth cleaned, then go to my real dentist, who will no doubt be impressed with the care (and flossing!) I've been showing my teeth.

I gave the latter idea some serious thought this morning. I mean, if it's covered under my insurance, why not? The only downside I can foresee is the possibility that I'll feel some attachment to my temp dentist, and in five months will have to see a temp-temp dentist before going to see my temp dentist before going to see my dentist. Eventually I'll be going to dentists every month, which would be kinda cool in a Howard Hughes way.

Really, though, the only difference between me and Howard Hughes is A) the bank balance, and B) some days I get more sun than he did.