Symbiosis and Lists

Some people have a very addictive nature.  They find a certain person, place or thing and attach themselves to it.  This symbiotic relationship can be for the better or the worse.  You see, symbiosis comes in three flavors:  The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.  Actually there is another form called Amensalism, but we'll leave that for another day so I can use my Sergio Leone reference.  The Good involves an attachment where both the sides gain a benefit.  A perfect cycle of continual partying where the booze is cheap and the chicks are hot.  The Bad is when only one side gets pleasure while the other doesn't give a shit.  This is the guy who shows up to the party wearing a tie-dye shirt and carrying a neon-flashing hula hoop. He's going to have a fucking blast.  And last comes The Ugly, a parasitic relationship where one side gains while the other loses.  It's the asshole who steals your date and your cat.

I'm not a very addictive person.  I can barely concentrate on things for longer than a couple of minutes.  Don't believe me, have a conversation with me.  I'll either entertain you or piss you off.   In my world, curiosity and daydreaming is King.  And with both gestures come sticky notes and lists.  Here's a few list for you.

Current crushes from the 80s:

   Audrey Rouget

    Sherilyn Fenn

    Helen Slater

    Lita Ford

I order these every time I see them on the menu:

1. Reuben

2. Fish Tacos

3. Curry

People I currently want to hang out with:

1. Bill Murray

2. Special Agent Dale Cooper

3. John Locke

Places I've been recently:

1. Wizard of Oz Sing-a-long

2. Megalodon Exhibit

3. Kansas

4. Keeper of the Planes

Things on my mind:

1. Twin Peaks

2. Stir fry

3. Gardening

4. Robots

Questions of the day:

What is your favorite things to list? 

Planes and Coasters

I'm on a plane again.  Except this time, I feel different.  I'm not going on an adventure, or an unknown place, I'm heading home.  Home to the same old faces, the same old job, and the same stale air of Rogers.  It's nice to settle for the same, but I'm too young.  I don't want it now.

I should have kept with my childhood dreams and become an astronaut.  A space cowboy.  I still blame my parents for not letting me go to space camp (lol).  Heck, I space out enough,  I might as well be there.  The quickest high I can get now is planes and roller coasters.  The quick thrills of being weightless for a split second and the strange feeling of having your balls sucked up in your body cavity.  To see above the clouds and crowds of people is just spectacular.  It might be a superiority thing or whatever, I don't know.  But whatever it might be, it makes me feel awesome and worth two shits.

Talking about coasters, I recently went to Seaworld.  They have two new coasters since the last time I visited which involved me standing too close to the Shamu tank (bad idea!).  Epic roller coaster names: Manta and Kraken.  Yeah, dangerous shit.  Just throw in a mechanical shark or a crocosaurus and you've got an Asylum production.  These coasters are two furious beasts both in nature and pure steel.  The Kracken is a legendary steel floorless coaster with speeds only second to the fastest Seaworld attraction, Steel Eel, around 65mph.  It boasts a 144-foot drop which leads into an epic 119-foot vertical loop.  The Manta is a flying roller coaster that is intended to create the experience of flight by tilting the passengers horizontally with the ground.  It has got a lot of twists and turns that includes a face-jarring 98-foot tall pretzel loop and a counter-clockwise inline twist that places 3G forces against your puny  human face.

Music lately:
Bright Eyes - The People's Key
Tennis - Cape Dory

Pic of day:

Questions of the day:

What is your favorite time travelling movie?

Bars and Comets

I went drinking with people I barely know the other day.  I'm with them, but only for setting up this convention.  Then we part ways.
We started on city walk, at Universal, and ate at Jimmy Buffets (who I'm pretty sure is an alchoholic).  We then proceeded to the hotel bar where I cruised on a beer from my room and ordered a gin-and-tonic (my beloved drink of choice).  The guys were getting a little antsy so we decided to check out a dueling piano bar called Howl of the Moon.  It was prett fun, and we got them to sing the only song that matters, "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns n' Roses.  After this song was over, I'm about knee deep in some gin-and-tonics and feeling pretty damn saucy, so we stagger to a latino dance club.  There was quite a bit of dancing going on, but all of it was on the tables.  Well I was getting jealous, I wanted to dance too!  This lead to a guy telling me I can't dance on the tables, only employees.  And now having a taste of some of dance, I only wanted more.  So we headed to a hotel with the same name as our hotel, but a totally different building (I learned this from the prior night) and hit up its disco club.  It was pretty awesome.  This couple kept buying me drinks as they tugged on my mustache, and a 50+ year old lady taught me some salsa moves while my friend danced with her daughter.

Ok, let's turn this shit around with a little friendly science

Have you ever sat down and thought about comets?  You've probably seen Deep Impact or Armegadden, but those movies only show those pipsqueak comets.  Just imagine a comet the size of earth, yes this wouldn't be catagorized as a comet any more, but bare with me.  I've been reading a lot about Nemesis hypothesis lately.  Nemesis theory is the idea that thier is a planet four times the size of Jupiter in the Oort Cloud, really cold region on the outskirts of our solar system, that uses its gravitational force to sling comets into our known solar system.   It's the logic currently being developed to understand where comets even come from.  It also sounds pretty crazy to think that there might be an even larger planet than our now eight, and it hasn't even been discovered yet.  It's also fun to think planets getting out of alignmnet by unknown forces and creating a cataclysmic chain-reaction of chaos in the cosmos.
Currently we've go the WISE and the Hubble Space telescopes trying to pin-point it so we might know the awesome truth soon.

Pic of the day:
Here's a picture of one of my many giant burrito creations so you guys don't think I'm full of shit.  It's a curry potato one!

Question of the day:
Which one would you rather ride by sadle?  A kraken, humming bird, manta ray or killer whale.

Business and Dads

My business trip has been a doozy.  It consists of working 13 or 14 hour days and lots of walking.  I have basically perform a couple of marathons everyday since the convention center is so gigantic.  It seriously takes 20 minutes to walk from one side to the other, and I'm constantly having to find people (our walkie system sucks, doesn't even have camouflaged receivers).

But the people at the job are a least a great source of entertainment.  If you don't know I work in IT.  And the IT crowd is one of made of a different breed.  With their two phones holstered on each side of their cutoff denim jeans like a western meeting the 80s, these men take justice and broadcast it at a unknown frequency. Comb-overs, fanny packs, baggy shirts, and forward struts, they've got them.  One of their names is Jack, and he's my partner in crime when it comes to the tangled cob webs of interweaving fibers called networks.

Jack is this monster of a man.  At 6' 9" and 300 pounds, this wrecking ball has the strength of a F30 pickup and sometimes displays the personality of an Ogre.  He has one goal, as he has informed me many times, and it is to make me emotionally breakdown and cry like a little kid.  He has not only made me his personal scapegoat, but also puts insult after insult to trigger some kind of response.  So far it hasn't work, and even as the day grows more tiresome, I'm able to beef up.  Actually we are starting to find many different qualities in common (not films or music).  Today we hate apples and caramel snack packs in an empty two-story auditorium talking about the origin of expressions we've been saying since kids.

I really want to build a high class Victorian steampunk outfit.  I just need that kind of respect in a fake community.  I've got the whole outfit planned out, just need some pressure gauges and the time to build it.

How men and their shirt types evolve:
Age 5: Monkeys (probably curious george)
Age 10: Lizards (way cooler than monkeys)
Age 15: Christian heavy metal (rebellious and hardcore)
Age 20: Designer shirts (cool graphics or indie band shirts)
Age 25: Fashion shirts (multi-button or v-neck-like)
Age 30: Polos (you're married now)
Age 35: Tie-dye (you're married and need some youth)
Age 40: Best dad shirts (you might as well be proud about being married)
Age 45: Oversized shirts (you're slowly losing grip of reality)
Age 50: Button up shirts showing chest hair (you're now listening to more disco than ever for some reason)
Age 55: Son's old shirts (retirement is near)
I don't know after 55.

Question of the day:
What are you five favorite films of the decade?

Me and things I don't understand

Do you guys ever pretend that there is always somebody watching you?  Someone you might just want to impress.  I do this about 90% of my life.  My time is everybody’s time.  This might sound a little conceded, but hey, I have to live with myself my whole life.  Sometimes I play music with my windows down in a public parking lot, even though I was listening to a sci-fi podcast on the drive.  I’m not blaring the music, but I am thinking “hey maybe someone will dig my music and hangout with me.” I’ll sometimes try to yawn and stretch in a sexy manner; people might disagree what I propose as sexy.  I don’t know, it’s just something I’ve done for a long time.  Since I was a kid, I’d play on our outside basketball court and pretend there was a full stadium of people rooting me on.

Why are people always in such a big fuckin rush?  As you age, are you enlightened with some kind of knowledge that beckons haste? Like the world is going to literally shit on you some kind shit that permanently halts your mobility or you heart will stop beating unless you pump it with adrenaline like that movie Crank.  I just don’t get it.

Do you think people who watch too many movies or read too much lose touch of reality?  I mean love is kind of a perfect setup for those mediums.  You find a gal, have a great time, go home with her, have great sex or talk for hours, and then either see her or don’t see here again.  And if you don’t see her again, you don’t stress out cause the movie only has 30 minutes left.

Let’s talk about ice breakers.  I’m not good at them.  I usually just bring up the big three: movies, music, and books.  Where general questions about a topic are boring and specific ones are considered snobby.  Another approach, I’ve used, is to mention something on your mind.  This tends not to fend well with strangers, definitely if it’s a bit right field (or is it left).  They either think you’re interesting, until you continue talking about it, or strange (not as strange as the kid in dreads playing with the neon hula-hoop, but strange enough to ignore).  So what do you talk about?  Yourself, politics, conspiracies, favorite babysitters, that restaurant you want to open.  I don’t know.

This post really shows how much I love writing about myself.  Actually the whole blog thing does.

Vid of the day:

To infinity and beyond.

Hey guys,

I’m writing this in a plane.  Some people have anxiety before a flight, but I love it.  I love it from the initial take off, climbing speeds of 200 mph in just a couple of seconds, to the landing where you feel the jolt of the plane landing and gravity bitch slapping you in the face for ignoring it.  During flight, the plane transcends reality into a bitter, sweet blizzard of clouds.  From way up high, the ground below loses its complexity and become an easy 500 piece puzzle.  Life feels simple and manageable.

I find myself thinking a lot before a flight.  Thinking of my friends, family, latest crush, gin and tonics, and the rest of the day is going to play out.  I want to have those memories backed up if we do crash and burn.

I have been real busy lately.  I got a new position at work, met a nice lady who I turned off by trying to turn on (Maybe I have lost the ability to kiss passionately), made a kegerator, and got drunk.  And now I’m flying to Orlando for two weeks to setup a meeting for 10,000 folks.

Friday, my roommates and I hosted a classy party.  Here are some of the highlights:

• 20 + people dressed up all fancy
•  Walked around with appetizers: citrus onion tomato brochette with melted mozzarella, cream-cheese caper and lox brochette, chocolate-hazelnut banana foster brochette, cream-cheese raspberry preserve brochette, stuffed mushrooms, spinach-stuffed pork tenderloin, and jalapeño popper wrapped in bacon.
• Photo booth with Mallory the photographer (she’s pretty much pro)
• Lots of Frank Sinatra
• Raffling out of a King of the Cosmos hat
• Midnight toast with Champagne
• Transition of classy to skanky with the revealing of the kegerator (filled with Fat Tire!)

Question of the day:

Do you like straight up cranberry juice or one of the funky Cran creations?  Or do you not even like cranberry juice and wish people would stop asking you?

Pics of the day:

Leggo my burrito

Mirror Mirror on the wall whose got the grandest burrito of them all?
I'm on my burrito kick again and going BIG.  I don't need those tiny, kiddie burritos taco bells been screaming about, I want a super, duper baby-sized burrito.  A daunting burrito of legendary status, cascading shadows on my plate and tormenting my not-so-equal belly.
Recently, I have found one of these so-called Uber burritos at a local Mexican restaurant hidden in the corner of a Hispanic supermarket.  I couldn't even eat all of it, and if you know me, I can put the smack down on some food.  But it was very enjoyable and accompanied with salsa verde...yummmy.  After eating my burrito, I talked to the waitress and she told me they sell the burrito shells in the supermarket.  So I went and picked some up along with a random Mexican pastry (I've always gotta try one).

So now, with the power of the big wraps, I'm off to making my own grande burritos.  The first burrito made was an eggplant one.  The stuffing included an eggplant mixture with onions, garlic, tomatoes, and a few spices.  Spices were pretty simplistic, just basil, thyme, pepper and salt (I like to keep the eggplant flavor intact).  After braising eggplant, to give it a firm exterior, I sauted it with the rest of the ingredients for 10 minutes, holding back the tomatoes until the last 5 minutes of cooking.  Next I placed fresh mozzarella strips on top and threw the whole mess in the oven for 10 minutes at 350.
Took the eggplant stuff out of the oven, warmed up a mega tortilla, and dumped the eggplant contents into it with a cup of cooked rice.  Giving it the fold and tuck, I realized the monster that was created.  Commanding it to rise up and face its master, one hand on the bottom, the other midway up its side, I stared into it slightly tanned face. It was love at first site and all I could think to do was eat it.  So I did.

Tonight is going to be another burrito night; I'm thinking chicken stroganoff.

Question of the day.
What should I put in my giant tortillas?

Fact of the day:
Taco bell doesn't care about you, and their meat is mostly fake. http://bit.ly/gHNupl

Picture of the day:

stole this pic from swisher