Well, winter finally arrived last week and took a dump all over the Metro area.
Of course, I have to have something to whine about, so let me just mention that my van is in dire need of a blend door actuator. Recognize that part? A simple Google search led me to that part. Apparently, that's a little cigarette packed shape box behind the radio of my model minivan. It controls the heat.
The heat.
More importantly, one can not defrost their windows when that cigarette pack sized bastard throws a gear.
Having suffered through a nearly traumatic drive to work through thousands of pounds of white shit falling from the sky last week, I ran out and bought a new blend door actuator yesterday. Unfortunately, my severe lack of self confidence in any kind of car maintenance that isn't changing oil or brake pads prevented me from installing it myself and I placed a call to a friend that is supposed to be coming over this morning to oversee the install, hopefully making sure that I don't accidentally wire the airbag to the windshield wiper controls and break my own skull the next time I try and clear my windshield.
The drive in to work last night wasn't terrible. The temperature was in the 30s, and aside from being a little chilly, it wasn't all that bad. The windshield stayed clear after I scraped it, and everything went well. I even got there early.
This morning, a whole new ball game. It's 15 degrees out. Both the windshield and the inside of the windshield were totally frozen over. Out comes the new scraper.
For all about 4 minutes. Then the son of a bitch shattered. I grabbed the biggest part of the nearly brand new shards of plastic and started scraping, checking over my shoulder for the inevitable appearance of The Chicken Cow. I scraped a viewing slot and headed home. I only had to stop a few times to scrape the window, but I made it.
Unfortunately, I had to take a wicked piss when I got home. There's holy-shit-it's-cold shrinkage, and then there's holy-shit-my-hands-are-frozen-while-grasping-at-my-sub-par-wang shrinkage.
My hands are numb, but I'm home. Defrosting under the Christmas lights.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
For the Movies....
Last Friday night, I ended up taking my mother downtown to see the premier of a horror movie a friend of the family had produced. Since we were "in" with the producer and her family, we got to park at one of the casinos and get shuttled on to the red carpet premier in a stretch Hummer. Pretty nice, although my mother fell trying to get in the back, and took forever to get out of it while all the people lining the red carpet with cameras were trying to figure out exactly what the hell they were looking at.
Anyhow, we sat through the movie. The fact that I'm using the term "sat through" and haven't named the flick should tell you about how I thought it was. I'm just glad the producer, who I've been acquainted with for two decades, didn't ask me what I thought. Holy bleh. It didn't help that one of the "stars" of the film sat in the next box over, shitfaced drunk and yelling throughout the entire screening.
Afterward, we were trying to get the hell out of the place before the inevitable "well....what did you think?" conversations started. Problem - no limo to be found. Calls were made and everyone was under the impression that the limo was outside, but nobody knew where.
Now, it was a banner night for entertainment downtown that night. There was the Christmas tree lighting, something happening at Comerica Park, and Paul Simon was playing at the theater directly next door to our screening. So. Limos everywhere, just not in front of the theater we were at. The producer's mother had me go ask around the various chauffeurs if they were our new ride, even though we were still expecting the Hummer, and there were no Hummers in sight.
Just as I'm getting to the queue of limousines, one pulls up right in front of me. The driver, dressed like someone you'd expect to be driving a horse-drawn carriage in Times Square kind of looked at me sideways and brushed past. I managed to get his attention again and asked if he happened to be picking up for the movie or the concert. He told me the concert and seemed nice enough about it. I turned and started heading down the street back to our group when I hear this snobby fuck making fun of me to another driver. All I caught, through his "I'm better than you" laughter was "as if I'd park in front of this building if I were supposed to be next door. What kind of an idiot even asks that?"
Between my frustration of not being able to find a ride out of there and the previous several hour shitfest of pretentious single-named wannabe Hollywood assholes, hipsters extremely overpriced (and watered down) drinks, and a movie that made NO sense, I'd about reached my limit.
"What the fuck is your problem?" I yelled at the old fuckhead
"What?" he innocently replied
"All I asked was a simple question, and you're going to be a cock about it?" I said. As he started to stammer out an answer I cut him off with "there's a lot of fucking cars here, I'm trying to find one that's obviously in the wrong place. GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU GLORIFIED CAB DRIVER!"
I'm not entirely sure what he was planning on doing, but he started walking towards me like it was go time. Fortunately, whoever the hell he was picking up made a perfectly timed exit from the theater and the old shit had to turn from someone about to get his dusty old ass kicked to Driving Miss Daisy in the snap of a finger.
Ten minutes of sitting in the shitty weather later, our Hummer showed up. My mom ended up taking the front seat so as to not fall struggling to get in the back again, and I ended up with the entire back all to myself.
Then I went to White Castle on the way home.
Cool story, bro.
Anyhow, we sat through the movie. The fact that I'm using the term "sat through" and haven't named the flick should tell you about how I thought it was. I'm just glad the producer, who I've been acquainted with for two decades, didn't ask me what I thought. Holy bleh. It didn't help that one of the "stars" of the film sat in the next box over, shitfaced drunk and yelling throughout the entire screening.
Afterward, we were trying to get the hell out of the place before the inevitable "well....what did you think?" conversations started. Problem - no limo to be found. Calls were made and everyone was under the impression that the limo was outside, but nobody knew where.
Now, it was a banner night for entertainment downtown that night. There was the Christmas tree lighting, something happening at Comerica Park, and Paul Simon was playing at the theater directly next door to our screening. So. Limos everywhere, just not in front of the theater we were at. The producer's mother had me go ask around the various chauffeurs if they were our new ride, even though we were still expecting the Hummer, and there were no Hummers in sight.
Just as I'm getting to the queue of limousines, one pulls up right in front of me. The driver, dressed like someone you'd expect to be driving a horse-drawn carriage in Times Square kind of looked at me sideways and brushed past. I managed to get his attention again and asked if he happened to be picking up for the movie or the concert. He told me the concert and seemed nice enough about it. I turned and started heading down the street back to our group when I hear this snobby fuck making fun of me to another driver. All I caught, through his "I'm better than you" laughter was "as if I'd park in front of this building if I were supposed to be next door. What kind of an idiot even asks that?"
Between my frustration of not being able to find a ride out of there and the previous several hour shitfest of pretentious single-named wannabe Hollywood assholes, hipsters extremely overpriced (and watered down) drinks, and a movie that made NO sense, I'd about reached my limit.
"What the fuck is your problem?" I yelled at the old fuckhead
"What?" he innocently replied
"All I asked was a simple question, and you're going to be a cock about it?" I said. As he started to stammer out an answer I cut him off with "there's a lot of fucking cars here, I'm trying to find one that's obviously in the wrong place. GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU GLORIFIED CAB DRIVER!"
I'm not entirely sure what he was planning on doing, but he started walking towards me like it was go time. Fortunately, whoever the hell he was picking up made a perfectly timed exit from the theater and the old shit had to turn from someone about to get his dusty old ass kicked to Driving Miss Daisy in the snap of a finger.
Ten minutes of sitting in the shitty weather later, our Hummer showed up. My mom ended up taking the front seat so as to not fall struggling to get in the back again, and I ended up with the entire back all to myself.
Then I went to White Castle on the way home.
Cool story, bro.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Bleh
So, last night at work was fairly uneventful. Even so, I found myself exhausted by the time I got home from work this morning. Climbed into the rack about 8:45, and fell asleep almost immediately. Woke back up around noon. No big deal. I usually split my sleep between the morning and the evening and get whatever I need to get done in the afternoon.
So, I did just that. Got some shit done in the afternoon. Crawled back into bed around 4:30pm. Fucked around on the internet for about half an hour and then laid back to sleep.
And laid there until 10:15. Staring at the ceiling. Not sleeping. Angry and frustrated.
Tonight is going to suck
So, I did just that. Got some shit done in the afternoon. Crawled back into bed around 4:30pm. Fucked around on the internet for about half an hour and then laid back to sleep.
And laid there until 10:15. Staring at the ceiling. Not sleeping. Angry and frustrated.
Tonight is going to suck
Monday, November 14, 2011
Well then...
A whole fuckload of things have happened since I last updated. Several things have not. No podcast - no great loss. No big Halloween anything this year - great loss. I really wanted to do something - anything - this year, but nothing really presented itself. I went to a shitty party that had potential, but was ruined by the people there. At least there was strobe light air hockey and alcohol. The house was decorated all cool-like, but when it came down to it, it was a bunch of people in costume complaining about their jobs. Most of which all worked together.
This was my half-assed 20 minute makeup attempt.
Anyhow. Other fun things. I'm pretty much deathly ill right now. Also, my company lost its contract for the building I work in, and I've been reassigned to a building that's a 45 minute drive away. Well, only 30 minutes from the house I'm moving to in less than 3 weeks, but still. I barely make enough money at this current building to justify the shit I have to put up with (quite literally. There is a volume of feces that anyone short of a sanitation officer should have to deal with), or even the TEN minute drive to the place. Now....everything is going to be different. I hear it's going to be for the better, but I also hear that a state-run lockdown facility is a whole new level of red tape and other garbage.
Bleh.
This was my half-assed 20 minute makeup attempt.
Anyhow. Other fun things. I'm pretty much deathly ill right now. Also, my company lost its contract for the building I work in, and I've been reassigned to a building that's a 45 minute drive away. Well, only 30 minutes from the house I'm moving to in less than 3 weeks, but still. I barely make enough money at this current building to justify the shit I have to put up with (quite literally. There is a volume of feces that anyone short of a sanitation officer should have to deal with), or even the TEN minute drive to the place. Now....everything is going to be different. I hear it's going to be for the better, but I also hear that a state-run lockdown facility is a whole new level of red tape and other garbage.
Bleh.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Cauldron Bubble.
Or rather, fun with dry ice.
I remember the days of Halloween past when you couldn't just walk into a grocery store and buy dry ice. We had to go to a refrigeration supply company that was a 45 minute drive, one way. Now, Meijer keeps the stuff in a special cooler by the door.
Or. If you happen to order any kind of meat by mail. Not that I would ever advocate mail-meat, we had a box of buffalo parts come in the mail. Totally had forgotten about it, and as much as I love eating buffalo, I was excited to remember that the stuff always comes packed in dry ice.
Now, I have no way of saving the stuff until Halloween, and even if I did there isn't anything that I would do with it that I couldn't do with my fogger. Or my diffuser (where the hell is that, anyway?). It's just fun to "play" with. The problem, and I even remembered from 22 years ago, is that it doesn't last long. To keep a small-ish cauldron going, you had to constantly feed it dry ice. It also helped to change out the water every 25 minutes or so.
None of this could be done when trying to keep a porch setup looking creepy. Especially in the late 80s when most decorations were paper or cardboard that you'd tape up year after year. If you were lucky, you'd have a fake tombstone or two. Maybe some of those pumpkin (or spider!) leaf bags that finally seem to be making a comeback. Surely your bubbling cauldron centerpiece couldn't be down for maintenance every half an hour. What would the neighbor with the real coffin think?
Nothing about dry ice made it practical to use. It was expensive, it had to be replenished often, you could seriously damage your own skin with it (prolonged contact can lead to horrific frostbite), and improper ventilation can lead to extremely rapid suffocation.
But, it's still a classic. So here's a salute to dry ice and all the fun it can bring.
Cheers!
I remember the days of Halloween past when you couldn't just walk into a grocery store and buy dry ice. We had to go to a refrigeration supply company that was a 45 minute drive, one way. Now, Meijer keeps the stuff in a special cooler by the door.
Or. If you happen to order any kind of meat by mail. Not that I would ever advocate mail-meat, we had a box of buffalo parts come in the mail. Totally had forgotten about it, and as much as I love eating buffalo, I was excited to remember that the stuff always comes packed in dry ice.
Now, I have no way of saving the stuff until Halloween, and even if I did there isn't anything that I would do with it that I couldn't do with my fogger. Or my diffuser (where the hell is that, anyway?). It's just fun to "play" with. The problem, and I even remembered from 22 years ago, is that it doesn't last long. To keep a small-ish cauldron going, you had to constantly feed it dry ice. It also helped to change out the water every 25 minutes or so.
None of this could be done when trying to keep a porch setup looking creepy. Especially in the late 80s when most decorations were paper or cardboard that you'd tape up year after year. If you were lucky, you'd have a fake tombstone or two. Maybe some of those pumpkin (or spider!) leaf bags that finally seem to be making a comeback. Surely your bubbling cauldron centerpiece couldn't be down for maintenance every half an hour. What would the neighbor with the real coffin think?
Nothing about dry ice made it practical to use. It was expensive, it had to be replenished often, you could seriously damage your own skin with it (prolonged contact can lead to horrific frostbite), and improper ventilation can lead to extremely rapid suffocation.
But, it's still a classic. So here's a salute to dry ice and all the fun it can bring.
Cheers!
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Wait, give him a what?
One of the few perks of having the life that I do is the potential for the acquisition of some awesome things. For instance: last night, I had something delivered to my work that I have been begging for for months. Literally. To the point where I should have been punched in the face several times. It still would have been worth it.
Let me introduce you to the "death kit". While this might conjure up images of Michael C. Hall, rolls of garbage bags, a leather blade case, and a slide holder....this is something far scarier to most people. Why? Because the aforementioned "most people" will never see this in real life, but everyone knows it's bad news. Hell, I broke open the plastic bag it came in, and the girl I work with immediately became a mix of fascinated and very uncomfortable. She said I was tempting fate.
So...what exactly is it? Well. Have a look.
Get the picture?
Ooooh, stickers!
Yep. Had to go there.
Hey, even fits my lardass!
The two of these I was given are going to be put to a good use for Halloween. I just think I need to make a few alterations as I nearly suffocated in waiting for that last picture to be taken and then have the bag unzipped.
Let me introduce you to the "death kit". While this might conjure up images of Michael C. Hall, rolls of garbage bags, a leather blade case, and a slide holder....this is something far scarier to most people. Why? Because the aforementioned "most people" will never see this in real life, but everyone knows it's bad news. Hell, I broke open the plastic bag it came in, and the girl I work with immediately became a mix of fascinated and very uncomfortable. She said I was tempting fate.
So...what exactly is it? Well. Have a look.
Get the picture?
Ooooh, stickers!
Yep. Had to go there.
Hey, even fits my lardass!
The two of these I was given are going to be put to a good use for Halloween. I just think I need to make a few alterations as I nearly suffocated in waiting for that last picture to be taken and then have the bag unzipped.
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Bounty!
(Click to actually view entire image. Hooray for reformatting)
From Target today. Well, except for the Pitch Black.
I can't believe the sheer amount of awesome. Unfortunately, the Halloween Pop-Tarts are completely sold out. I'm just happy about the cereal. I haven't had Count Chocula in what seems like forever. Last year, I only managed to get a couple boxes of Frankenberry. The year before, I had to settle (settle? ha) for Boo-Berry.
As things stand, I think the trip to Athens (Ohio. Think "the huge street celebration from the opening of Trick R Treat" type fun) is going to be cancelled, however Cedar Point Halloweekends might be happening instead.
Look for a podcast soon. Hopefully. Still figuring out the logistics, and finding people to put on. Tentatively named "It Is Later Than You Think" in fond remembrance of Arch Oboler's "Light's Out!" radio series. Yes, the one from the Bill Cosby "Chicken Heart" routine. We're going to spend the month of October discussing horror movies (dur). Mainly the Universal classic monsters and some of the modern marvels of horror cinema - Halloween, Hellraiser, Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and (of course) Trick R Treat.
Now, stop being assholes in the comments.
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