Character

I have decided (for about the, oh, 8th time) that I am going to wear a costume to next years DragonCon. However, unlike every other year when I have made this decision I have actually done something about it. (I'm as surprised as you are. I'll try not to let this go to my head.)

To the end of creating an ultra-cool Steam-punk costume for next year I have ordered...wait for it...welders goggles! Not to actually do any welding, of course. But as requisite Steam-punk wear. (OK, inside joke with Kr4ster...) Anyhow, I have not been able to find any of the much cooler lenses that some people sported at the con, so goggles it will be until then.

And modding the goggles will give me some practice in making things look steamy anyhow. So it will be helpful for the rest of the costume. Next step, vest, pants, shirt, pocket-watch! Pocket-watch? To the consignment stores to see what I can find! (Because ordering that stuff online is seriously expensive. I checked.)

Caaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnn!

Because I didn't want the title of the post to be Cooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnn. Because then people would read it with the 'oo' sound rather than the 'ah' sound. Stupid english language.

So. Back from Dragoncon. It was great. I had a great time even though I did not get drunk at all the entire weekend. Some great panels. Some great ideas. Got to see James Randi live in person. (He _is_ quite short.) Took loads of pictures. Friend me on Facebook if you want to see some of them. Send me a message if you want to see all of them. Oh yeah.

That's Uncle To You

Fester that is. Festering like a scrotal boil. Best description for this blog.

It mocks me with its complete lack of updates. Maybe I should put it out of its misery.

Oh...before I forget. Gladius is a very boring game. It starts off OK. But it gets old very, very fast. And the barbarian princess that sounds like a gum-popping, nearly valley girl, high school chica? Slightly amusing at first. But the unintended humor wears off.

OK, I posted something, damnit. Not that I expect anyone to read this. Wheee!

Ah, to be young again.

So I called the Grimmlet on New Year's Eve. "Do you know what today is?"

There followed a listing of activities engaged in earlier in the day.

"No, today is a semi-special day. It's New Year's Eve. Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"Well, today is the last day of 2007. And tomorrow is the first day of 2000..."

"2008! 2008! 2008!" (Screamed with all the copious excitement that a four year old can bring to bear.)

---

This year I resolve to be less anti-social and actually go to a new year's eve party if invited.

Riffin'

...in my 5.0. Ragtop down so my hair can blow.

Scratch that.

...on Taco's recent post. Because until I read it I was pretty sure I would have to shutter the blog for lack of anything interesting to say.

Oh, except that I have to admit to being outsmarted by the Grimmlet. She is 1/8th of my age and she totally outsmarted me. Obviously, it is high time I started to cheat.

Right. So, riffing. Paranoia. Me. Caffeine. Acute. One word sentences. Suck.

Okay then. Back to me and caffeine. We don't mix well, as it turns out. I never built up a tolerance as a young adult, so I have mostly fillings free teeth. (One natural cavity was filled when I was quite young. Hmm...let me get back on whether the cavity was natural. My memory could be going tricksy on me.)

At any rate, caffeine and I do not get along so well. Sometimes I forget this and take a little caffeine. Sometimes that is not so bad. I had a cherry pepsi today that has not yet adversely affected me, in fact. But other times it gets real mean. And makes me freaking paranoid. Or panicky. Or adrenaline rushy. Or something. I start getting this feeling that I am about to be attacked. Not you average cubicle mauling, either. It's going to be, like, 50 extra dimensional ninja assassins coming after me all at once. And I have to be ready. And I know it's going to happen because I realize that my heart is racing and I have adrenaline coursing through my system and I am starting to get twitchy and it's hard to concentrate and shit I drank amountain dewwhat thehell wasithinking shitshitshit fuckaretheygoingto jumpoutofthewallsand maybeidbettertakealittlewalkaretheybehindthe waterfountainibettheyarethosesneakybastards. Also, I think it may not like my digestive system too much. Never drink anything caffeinated before a big presentation. Bad news. And sometimes it makes me stay awake when I want to sleep but it never helps me stay awake when I want to stay awake. Why is that?

But it's better than alcohol because I don't want to curl up in a ball and die within a minute of drinking it. On the (plus?) side it doesn't make me cough up blood. I'm just not that lucky.

Earbuds Are Dangerous

Cause I'm sitting here at work rocking out to The Beatles and I am in much danger (there's that word again) of starting to sing out loud and make a fool out myself. For those of you following along at home, that would be a bigger fool out of myself. It's weird though. When I play music through the speakers on my desk I have never had this problem. But the earbuds apparently make the music too immediate, to personal, or something. Or it may be that I just really needed to catch a little Beatlemania right now.

Oh wait, no, I just realized what happened here. I queued up some Beatles this morning when I got in. Then later I was reading a complete stranger(who is apparently the friend of an incomplete stranger)'s blog and he mentioned going back in time to witness the British Invasion. And then I started to imagine it too. And then my Beatles selections started playing. And then I started with the false memories and damn it, why did they break up? Was it really Yoko?

Hmmm, Tripp may have been more right than he knew about the lack of time travellers as evidence against time travel. But it's not so much that The Beatles appearance on Ed Sullivan would have going to be packed with future voyeurs, but that I don't recall seeing a crowd of thirty, forty, fifty, sixty and seventy year olds creeping it up at my high school prom. Of course, I don't remember anything even remotely interesting happening at my prom, so that might explain that. I'd never go back in time for that. At least not until Alzheimer's claims my brain. And then I'll be no danger to the time-space continuum anyhow.

Not that I believe in time anyhow.

I got nothin, redux

This time I really have nothing to say. I just feel like I need to put something up here on a semi-regular basis or I might as well shutter the place. How about a review? Double feature review, even.

First up on the block is Tarantino's Death Proof. I am told that this was the favorite of audience's between the two Grindhouse movies. Gotta say, though, I was not impressed. It got so bad in the middle that I picked up a book and started reading it. I think I understand that he wanted the audience to be invested in the characters, but I was just bored. The last ten minutes were freaking awesome, but nowhere near made up for the preceding 90 minutes (or thereabouts.) Overall I'd give it about a C+. Without the last ten minutes it would be an F-. If I re-edited it, it would be about half an hour.

Second up is the other Grindhouse flick, Rodriguez' Planet Terror. Holy crap on a stick. This one was everything the other one wasn't. The only thing that really detracted from it is that Rodriguez put Tarantino in a speaking role in it. Just...no. I know they're buddies and all, but actors exist for a reason. Maybe it's just me, but every time I see Tarantino on screen it totally shatters the illusion for me. Crap! I've spent four (now five) sentences bitching about Tarantino! Okay, Planet Terror is awesome because of everything, and I mean everything (except the stuff I already mentioned.)

Okay, now I have nothing again.

Damn you Old Timers!!!!!

I had stuff to say. Ideas of import to export. I really did. But they're all gone now. Flown the coop. Vile, murderous chickens that they are. I will kill them and eat them. They will be delicious. And I will use butter.

Also, kittens! They are cute! Too bad they grow up to be cats. Vile murderous cats.

Here's something really funny. Brain not worky so gud now. Do linky own time. Make fun.
http://www.fortaxreasons.com/

Like Spider-Man

Kids are pretty amazing. It was recently pointed out to me that they have nothing better to do that observe and record all that they see and hear and then bring up relevant (sometimes inopportune) information when you least expect it.

Tonight as I was putting the Grimmlet to bed I made some comment about drinking a beer. (Unfortunately I cannot remember the thrust of the statement.) She pipes up with "Daddy, you don't drink beer!" Then after a moment of thought, "You drink coffee. Lots of coffee." Apparently my every other week coffee shop trip may become cause for an intervention one of these days...

But I cannot, for the life of me, remember when I have ever mentioned (in front of her) that I don't drink beer.

I got nothin

Seriously. I have nothing to say. But I think I will ramble on here for a bit out of some misguided sense of duty. Also, procrastination.

Or I could just stop writing and let that statement stand on its own. Without any further comment from myself. Except maybe in the comments section.

I took the Grimmlet to our cities' annual parade on Saturday evening. It was a short walk from our house to the parade route, which was awfully convenient. Unfortunately I massively underestimated the popularity of the parade and the entire sidewalk on the south side of the street was packed five deep. Not a problem, I thought, as we live to the north of the street in question. Until the parade finally got to us and it was immediately apparent that the parade was north-sidist.

At least half the floats face the south side of the street only. It might have been really disappointing for her if the parade had reached us before an hour+ past her normal bedtime. But she was awake (if zoned) for the 3/4 of the parade we saw.