tacos, pianos and practical latin

Thanks, internet. We're screwed.

2009-04-24T07:54:00.001-07:00

It occurred to me today that this thing we call technology has profoundly varying impacts on different generations of people. Throughout time, new technological advancements are integrated, discovered and streamlined by the generation that saw their advent, and then all but ingrained into everyday usage by the children of those innovators. Take the airplane, for example. When it first came out, people were terrified to ride them. It was something daring young fools climbed aboard, not an everyday reality that would enable people to travel the world over. Yet over the past century, innovators took risks, improved designs, tooled and retooled engines and fuels and fuselages and now here we are, 100 years later and we see a world where going to visit our relatives is as simple as booking a flight. We'd be baffled if the mail took more than 2 days to arrive. We can catch a redeye to Las Vegas and act on our romantic impulses before our heads have time to take over. Since work began, man has been trying to find ways to save his only true, finite resource: time.

In the same way, I see the internet to my generation and that of my children. When the internet age truly began, I was just a kid. I would ride my bike to the public library, wait 20 minutes to get online (at 14.4 kbps, BLAZING fast) and explore an ever expanding world- email, webpages, HTML, pure information at my fingertips, from all over the world. But unlike many other technological advancements, the internet was a self-perpetuating phenomenon. Being able to share large amounts of information over simple phone and fiber lines allowed developers to share ideas; businesses like Yahoo and Google saw the unlimited potential of providing everything somebody could ever need right into their personal computer; countless computer nerds inexplicably received obscene amounts of money to help built the dot-com explosion, which would grow like a huge bubble and finally POP when people realized what they wanted from the internet and how much they wanted to pay for it.

Everything. For nothing. By simply hooking up your computer, we had access to a world of goods, services and entertainment. New languages were being born. Tiny acronyms that could have once been considered typographical errors now held great significance in the eyes of the internet generation. The parents were threatened, baffled, unsure how to react when their kids were the only place to turn when they realized that incorporating this new technology was their only option if they wanted to survive. When generations were united in sharing information, ideas and knowledge, we reached our apex. It was also at this point that our brains started to dissolve into mush and we decided to screw over our kids.

Because truthfully mom and dad, we were really just using the internet to steal music and look at porn. The advent of the flash video allowed us to take clips of our friends lighting their flatulence aflame and broadcast it to the world. Suddenly, everyone had a voice, and opinion, a blog, a social network, something to say and somebody to listen to it. It somehow stung less when somebody told you your writing wasn't good, or you weren't funny. We could say what we wanted without real consequence, because the only thing that might stand in our way was someone else's faceless screen name telling us what for, and who really cares. 176,214 other idiots think I'm hillarious!

The internet went from a forum of enlightening human idea exchange to the ultimate gratification for the laziest recesses of our human nature. Sex is at our fingertips, entertainment is only a click away. Spelling, grammar, punctuation are defenestrated by simple keystrokes. I can only imagine that there will soon be a way to obtain food through the wire too. We're on our way to becoming a collective world consciousness, all wired to one another, laying prostrate in our beds, feeding tube in our stomach and filling our minds with pleasing visual stimuli all day long. People thought the television was the downfall of American society, but the television couldn't give us the one thing we still desired- the feeling that somebody was listening to us while we sat slobbering in front of them. Now we have input AND output, and the cycle is complete. Prepare for final brain liquefication, because the tool they thought would help their kids grow up to be smarter than us has turned on them, and it seems that we're just a generation away from becoming illiterate, culture-devoid robosapiens.

If you don't believe me, listen to some of the music these kids are playing. Read the text messages and emails and comments they leave for each other on their blogs. Tell me what videos have the most hits on YouTube. The things the internet is doing to this young generation of kids is terrifying to me. That might make me sound like an old man, but who cares. It truly scares me to think that the next group of workers down the chute is going to be even lazier than MY generation.

And one more thing- stop digitally over-exposing your kids. By the time our babies grow up and learn to use the internet, they'll have access to more information about themselves than any generation has ever had. Considering the internet is practically the temple of Narcissus, I can't imagine that's healthy. But hey, what do I know. I just wrote this whole essay and published it on the internet. Kind of hypocritical, perhaps.

Political!

2008-08-31T16:35:00.000-07:00

Although I normally stray from politics, I have to say that Sarah Palin is the hottest woman in politics. Probably ever.

Apparently I'm not the only one.

TACOS! The secret to American power!

2008-08-29T20:52:00.001-07:00

You can't escape it. Tacos.

Things I absolutely hate.

2008-08-16T13:48:00.000-07:00

1. That feeling you get when you're taking off a sweaty t-shirt and it gets stuck. You're sweaty, there's a shirt halfway off your head, and it's stuck to your sweat soaked torso. So you just run around the house screaming, running into things and wondering if God will put you out of your misery and let you fall into a bathtub with a toaster. However, right as you're getting the toaster ready, the shirt comes off.

2. Mosquitos. They love me, and I hate them. It's a directly related quotient of love and hate. The more they love me, the more I wish I could cover the surface of planet Earth with fire, killing every mosquito, everywhere. The more they bite me, the more I wish I could travel back in time into their favorite childhood memory and run through it naked, scarring them permanently.

3. Losing things. I lost a disc golf disc today that I, by happenstance, JUST PURCHASED TODAY. It just vanished. Into the reeds, or the air, or into a little kid's backpack. Not sure. But that's the THIRD Valkyrie I've lost. I loved those discs.

That is all.

Video

2008-08-11T19:53:00.000-07:00

So, even though I really don't like my own videos, here is a video worth checking out, if for no other reason other than Wes Hennings did a great job of editing and directing.

And to answer your question- we wrote it all in advance, and then I memorized the dialog. Wes helped me.

New Nervous Habit

2008-08-11T19:50:00.000-07:00

I'm growing a beard. Growing a beard is excellent, however it has created a new nervous tick for me- I have started licking the hair of my mustache right at the corner of my mouth. I can't stop it.

I seriously just did it. I hope this goes away when my mustache is huge. Otherwise, I'm shaving this bitch.

My parents are awesome.

2008-07-19T08:33:00.000-07:00

On the subject of blogging-

2008-07-19T08:05:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a fantastic blog by a guy named Christian, called "Stuff White People Like". It's the funniest satirical blog I've read, probably ever. He also has a book. Which I promised myself (and told him) I would buy. So.

I think it will make a stunning addition to the small library above my toilet. Seriously. There's a small library up there. I do my best thinking on the toilet.

LOOK WHAT I DISCOVERED! DELICIOUS BEER DRINK!!!

2008-07-18T16:40:00.001-07:00

This is truly fantastic. Leinenkugel's calls it a "Sunny Bear"- mixing one half a Sunset Wheat with one half Berry Weiss. The best part is that you have to drink two of them to use up the beer you opened. Possibly the first time math has actually been helpful to me.

Stress

2008-06-29T21:14:00.001-07:00

I feel like I've been a sucker for people in need my whole life. I'm beginning to think it makes me weak. I once ended up spending a ridiculous amount of money trying to help somebody who was really just a drug addicted leech. And then I just said, "I never want to hear from you again!" and it was so. I don't feel bad for it. I really don't. I hope I never see that guy again in my entire life, because it reminds me of how stupid I was. He just took advantage of me. I thought I was helping someone, but they were just lying. Now I don't give money to people.

Instead, I have someone living on my couch.

Having someone living on your couch is stressful. Very stressful.

You don't have access to your living room. You can't walk around your house naked. Your wife is mad at you. It's basically a huge pain in the ass.

I haven't lived with a roomate for almost 3 years and that feels good. Now I have a man living in my living room by my own decision. He needs help. Does it have to be my help? Probably not. But I'm the one giving it. I could kick him out, but I don't really have a good reason. Other than him being messy and I want to sit on my sofa naked and watch television.

Possibly God is teaching me some lesson about selfishness or patience or suffering or something.

But now my wife wants him gone. That makes it difficult, because now she's mad at me that I'm not giving him the ultimatum. Laying down the law. And I'm trying to play the middle, because I love her and want to please her, but I've committed to myself that I'm going to see this through.

And all the while I'm trying to convince her of something I have trouble swallowing myself- that being selfless for just a little while longer, until he leaves town next week, will be hard, but the right thing to do. I don't want to do that! I want it over!

But then He tells me:
"You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. For in just a very little while, He who is coming will come and will not delay." Heb 10:36-37

Help me persevere.

Green Porno

2008-06-20T16:10:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest things ever. It's like porno. But with bugs. And it's charming instead of filthy and repulsive.

Check it out.

Manahmanah

2008-06-17T06:51:00.000-07:00

Attention

2008-04-16T08:41:00.000-07:00

So I've decided. I need attention.

Not all the time, just sometimes. In fact, sometimes I hate attention. I'm typically very uncomfortable with praise. I don't really enjoy being recognized in public. Increasingly, I'm less and less drawn to people in general.

I believe there's something in every human that longs to be chased after- the unfortunate side-effect of that is that you must run away to be chased. After running and running and hoping that somebody is chasing me, I often find that I'm alone, in the middle of nowhere. My would be pursuers looked at my full sprint in to the woods and said, "That guy does NOT want to be caught. I'll just wait here." Or perhaps they start running into the forest too, not to chase me, but because they want to be chased as well.

So then I end up running into a bunch of crazy, narcissistic spriniters in a forest. And I'm forced to walk back out into the open, head hung low because the game of hide and go seek ended 45 minutes ago and everyone decided I was too hard to find and went inside to eat ice cream instead.

So now what? I'm the fastest sprinter and the best hider in the game, but it doesn't matter, because nobody had the energy to seek me out. So instead of being championed for my speed, cunning and prowess, I'm left crying inside the bottom of a dead tree because nobody could find me and because they ran out of vanilla ice cream while I was sitting in my arrogant fantasy that soon, someone would scream, "Here he is! I found him!" and I would finally, thankfully, willingly lose this lifelong game of hide and seek.

Somebody find me.

Today in History

2008-02-01T10:13:00.000-08:00

February 1st:

1861: Texas succeeds from the United States and joins the Confederacy. I guess they didn't dig the Union when they joined it just 11 years before. The upside? Sales of "Don't Mess with Texas" t-shirts went up almost 200 percent during the first 2 years of the war.

1979- Two weeks after the Shah of Iran decided to go on an extended "vacation", the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini was welcomed back to Iran by throngs of screaming teenage fans. After thanking them, he promptly had them jailed and executed for excessive displays of Western emotion.

2005- Canada passes the "Civil Marriage Act", making it the 4th nation worldwide to sanction same-sex marriage. Coincidentally, the United State's proposes moving closer to Mexico, afraid that they might "catch gay".

Birth:
1968: Pauly Shore, American Actor. In anticipation, Lawrence Olivier, sensing a disturbance in the Force, attempts to kill the child. He calls this failure his greatest regret.

Death:

2003: The entire crew of the STS-107 Shuttle Columbia perish when an equipment failure causes the entire shuttle to disintegrate during re-entry into the atmosphere. The space program fails to launch another shuttle for almost 2 years follwing the incident.

Lame

2008-02-01T10:11:00.000-08:00

I have done the same thing for the past several days and feigned remorse over it.

As a result, I now feel genuine remorse.

I hope it doesn't take that long next time.

Bounty Hunting

2008-01-20T17:53:00.000-08:00

So I was thinking about everything I've learned in life, and I think it's all moot compared to this:

Nobody has shit on you when you're holding a thermal detonator. Not Jabba the Hut, not the IAEA, not even George W. Think about that next time your negotiating your salary at work, or arguing with your spouse over what restaurant you want to eat at.

On this day in history

2008-01-09T12:54:00.001-08:00

Welcome to a new blog segment that will hopefully gain notoriety and become a staple of your regular blog reading. Or whatever.

January 9th

1349- The Swiss, known for their peaceful neutrality in 20th century war, fine chocolate and noteworthy skiing, set a precedent for genocide on this day in history when the citizens of Basel, Switzerland gathered all the Jews in the city and incinerated them, citing them as the cause of the bubonic plague. God, angered by the whole incident, destroys the village with a massive earthquake in 1356.

1861- Soldiers from the Citadel, Charleston, SC fire on the Star of the West, a trade ship coming to resupply troops at Ft. Sumter, SC. These are generally considered to be the first shots of the American Civil War. The United States divorce shortly after, citing "irreconcilable differences".

Notable Births:

1929- Dorthea Puente- Convicted American serial killer, who married, killed and then collected the pension checks of retired men. She was shocked to later find out this profitable business was illegal.
1967- Dave Matthews- South African singer and musician; noted for skills and moaning and incoherent mumbling while playing the guitar.

Notable Deaths:

1920- Napoleon III of France- Nephew of Napoleon I, used his position as titular (stop giggling) president of France to become Emperor for the next 18 years, until he doomed France for decades by starting the Franco-Prussian war in 1870. This war gave birth to the German Empire, which, as two of you know, really didn't like France. He spent the remainder of his life in a British hotel, where he died of a bladder stone/kidney failure. He is sometimes referred to as "Napoleon the Small", in comparison to his uncle. Their respective endowments cannot be verified.

Alright!

2007-12-24T08:06:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what a few days together with no distractions can do for your marriage. It's been 2.5 months and things are going strong. No regrets.

And man, I love snow. I want to go run around in it. Maybe I will today.

Thank you notes.

2007-11-24T18:11:00.000-08:00

I am writing thank you notes. It is more fun than I thought.

Its something to note that they are 2 months after the wedding. I think when people recieve them, they will think:

"What? Thank you for what?"

I've gotten thank you notes before and thought that.

Awake.

2007-11-08T13:00:00.001-08:00

I am awake and blogging again.

Today I thought a lot about Taco Cabana. I could eat there every day, and my mom says that's probably not okay. But why is TC so great? Well children, I'm glad you asked. Taco Cabana fulfills all the specifications of a fantastic taco restaurant, with its own added flair. It fulfills the laws of taco greatness.

THE LAWS OF TACO HOUSE GREATNESS

The food shalt rock your face. This essentially means that you have a mouthgasm when you eat there. When you eat the taco, it has to taste fresh- not just the completed taco, but all ingredients in the taco. Nothing processed goes in your food. No canned meat. No canned cheese.

The menu should give you options but not leave you feeling overwhlemed. A beginner should be able to order alongside a veteran and still have a satisfying experience. However, the restaurant should also accommodate expert taco eaters, which means:
The staff has to have their stuff together. Service needs to be friendly and prompt, regardless of what color you are or what language you speak.

It must either make its own tortillas or have them delivered fresh daily.

It needs a strong hand of salsa- many varieties, all made fresh, from fresh ingredients. None of this Pace from a can, dumped in a bucket. That's offensive. A taco establishment really striving for greatness will have sauces and salsas designed to specifically compliment it's amazing food.

It needs to play awesome music. Taco joints that play straight Tejano polka don't make the cut. There needs to be something you can actually dance to. At least every 5th polka, there should be a good Salsa number in there.

It must serve tacos. I shouldn't even have to say that. But I do.

It should serve beer. I really have to insist here. Taco + Cerveza = Pure Rapturous Joy.

It should serve patrons at all hours of the day. (This is one of the things that separates a very good taco joint from a GREAT taco joint. For some reason, tacos really do taste better at three in the morning. I think there's some scientists who found that to be true.) If it can't serve patrons at all hours, it must at least accommodate the prime hours of taco eatage:

0530-1000 Before work
1100-1300 Lunch
1345-1500 Post lunch energy boost
1600-2000 Dinner
2100-2245 Taco Pre-Game
0030-0430 Taco Prime Time

It should inspire. This is the bottom line. A good taco joint gains the loyalty of a fan base. It has devoted followers who dream about its food day and night. People that get t-shirts and tattoos bearing the logos, food, slogans and likenesses of line cooks of their preferred taco house. These fans will fight tooth and nail to defend it against all ill will. If told it is going out of business, they will eat there as much as fiscally possible to keep it open. Any rumors of food poisoning will be dismissed as "Pussies complaining because they couldn't handle the hot stuff." If the question is posed, "Where should we eat?", this taco zealot will firmly ensure his or her demands are met. A great taco stand turns casual taco eaters into believers. A great taco stand changes lives and gives new significance to life.

If you have anything to add, let me know. You might be right.

Words.

2007-10-13T22:29:00.000-07:00

There are no words. There just aren't words.

It seems hypocritical to write that. I'm writing words to say that "there are no words". So apparently, there are.

The words you use to describe and indescribable situation. "There's nothing to say. There are no words."

And when you say that, people know what you're talking about. The best part is, you're not talking about anything. You're simply saying, "This thing is so complex, so beautiful, so difficult and so painful that I can't choose a word. I could sit here and try for hours to describe it to you. But laziness and brevity dictate my response. So I let you know that there are no words to describe it. I know you understand. I hope."

There are no words. That's a lie. Those four words are a euphemism for TONS of words. Words that we don't know how to say. So is that more profound than silence?

Nah. Silence is open to too much interpretation.

Pirates!

2007-09-25T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'm bonkers about this band I just found.

They're called "Pete and the Pirates" and I think they're the Bees Knees. Bob's Your Uncle. The #1 prize lobster festival. Whatever. They're super and from the British Isles.

Which reminds me:

Why can't I buy UK music online from UK suppliers? It seems really idiotic to me that I can log on to the UK iTunes music store, but I can't buy from it because I don't have a UK billing address.

SELL ME YOUR MUSIC, ENGLAND! DAMN IT!

Mawaige

2007-09-19T21:00:00.000-07:00

I constantly wonder why people are offering condolences to me instead of congratulations. I'm getting married, and it's the most thrilling, wonderful thing I can think of- yet somehow, people all around me think it's the end of my life.

When did marriage get so screwed up? When did it start being the end of your life? When did it mean "giving up your dreams and freedom" and wearing a ball and chain? I mean really, I thought that didn't happen until you had kids.

But seriously! What's wrong with men these days?

Dudes! If you really think all that shit, don't get married! You shouldn't be getting hitched to somebody who's trying to cut your balls off anyway, if that's really what she's trying to do. However, don't press your bitterness toward matrimony off on me. I'm not having it.

Still, it's not hard to see what the problem is. When we stop giving and start thinking about what we're getting out of our relationships, instead of what we're giving, we start being dissatisfied, and thinking that our significant other is somehow "depriving" us of the love and joy that we used to have. And maybe they are, because they don't feel loved anymore. So they start caring about themselves, and using your "devotion" as a weapon to punish you for the love you're not giving them any longer.

Until it falls apart.

Selfishness is human nature, and two can never become one flesh if they indulge that nature. Only when we can deny our self and become something new do we have the true ability to sacrifice and love. Consider this:

That, in reference to your former manner of life, you lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit, and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth.
-Ephesians 4:22-24

If God is love, we move closer to loving like He loves us when we are renewed in His Spirit.

Shorter

2007-09-18T06:50:00.000-07:00

I think I need to write shorter blogs.

Taco Sighting

2007-09-12T19:29:00.001-07:00

I have been shown something incredible today. Bobby Henderson, the Orson Welles of taco photography, has created a fitting tribute to our beloved food.

You can check out his work at his website, Henderob.com It is quite incredible. Inspiring, to say the least. And it makes me hungry to boot.

Thanks to Paul for the tip.

You can't say that in church.

2007-08-28T20:17:00.001-07:00

Disclaimer: This blog contains profanity. If that offends you, keep reading. I wrote it for you.

I'll be honest. I like to swear. I think it's a hoot. The very fact that certain words in our vernacular are somehow more "taboo" than others constantly bemuses me, and using those words at the appropriate (and sometimes inappropriate) times gives me a kick.

And why shouldn't it? Is there really anything special about 4 or 5 letters arranged in a special order?

No, but it would be naive for me to say that words have no meaning, or that what we say has no effect on other people. At critical junctures in history, a single word has meant the difference between success and failure, order or chaos, even life and death. The difference isn't the words we say, but the intention behind them. The spirit of the language is what hurts and heals and bonds and breaks. Which brings me to my point:

Can I say the word "shit" in church?

I once made an announcement video for my church, (as I often do) and at one point in an announcement I said,
"Somebody's gonna be in deep doo-doo."

After the video aired, our pastor's wife (who is an awesome woman, don't get me wrong here) came up and said, "I like the video. But you can't say that word in church."
"Which one," I replied, "Doo-doo?"(I had been forewarned that she was ticked.)
She grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. That's the one."
I just raised my hands and gave an embarassed smile as she sighed, shook her head and walked away.

I was flabbergasted. It was never my intention to offend anyone- quite the contrary. I consciously chose "doo-doo", thinking it would be a better alternative than, "Somebody's gonna be in some deep dog shit over this one!" (Which, to note, I don't think is wrong. It might have caused some unpleasant ripples in the congregation, though.) But seriously, it was as if using fecal matter as a quantifying measure for trouble was some anathema towards Christendom! Have people become so petrified of words that their meaning and character has become secondary? It's just a rude word for feces, folks.

How's that for doo-doo kid?!

I often hear people using language as a standard for morality, both in their own lives and those of others. I think people are afraid to be transparent and really connect with the character of other people, so we use something tangible and audible to measure our integrity: profanity. This is a grave mistake! It's unfair to write someone off simply because their vocabulary is more colorful than ours. That's taking the easy route- instead of getting to know somebody's heart, we simply take a surface reading based on their words. But it's as simple as this: if the language of our hearts isn't being transformed, we all might as well be saying "fuck you" at the end of every sentence.

I can think of people in my own life who would never be caught saying as much as "pee-pee" in public, but the words that do come out of their mouth are more venomous and despicable than the oaths uttered by a salty sailor any day. I believe it's because they got the wrong idea- as if we could change our hearts by altering our words, instead of the other way around. It's only when I allow Christ to transform my personality do I truly witness the outpouring of loving speech. And speech like that might even have a few "doo-doo's" and "shits" in it.

That's why it's so important to look at the heart, not just the mouth. Transparency is the road to communication, and when we stop being afraid of words and start examining why we say them, I think we'll all understand each other a lot better.

And by the way:
By saying all this, I'm not condoning reckless swearing and allowing children to let their mouths run amok. If your kid drops the f-bomb, smack them. Then explain: Words like that are like a verbal handgun or knife- they can be used as weapons, tools, or (carefully) for fun. However, if you don't know how to use them properly, you can really hurt somebody or get yourself in a lot of trouble. So do mommy and daddy a favor and don't call your teacher an asshole anymore.

I know, in a perfect world, right? What do I know. I don't have kids.

Jazz

2007-08-22T21:19:00.000-07:00

It is a long time aspiration of mine to go to college to become a jazz piano player/commercial music guru. This is just something I want to do. Sometimes I am afraid that I'll be poor my whole life. Sometimes I feel pressure from the world, from my culture, from my father in law, that I should go the "easy" route and go with the grain, doing a job that makes me enough money to support me and my soon to be wife. And I understand that.

But at the same time, I think all of it is bullshit.

In our world, particularly American culture, happiness and success are equated with a significant income, a big screen TV, a house with a yard, 2 cars and 2.5 kids. And even though everybody looks at that as the ideal, nobody is satisfied with these things. Hence comes the cycle of accumulating more stuff, and then the inevitable problem of what to do with it when you're dead.

Don't get me wrong. I've accumulated a lot of great stuff, and I'm sure a lot of that is from dead people.

But in the process of life, as I collect more and more things to haul around with me through this life, I long for something simpler- a life where I can play piano. A life where I can serve others. A life where I can please my God through simplicity.

When Jesus said, "Sell everything you have and give it to the poor", my first reaction is:
If I do that, I'll be poor. Then I'll just be waiting around for somebody to make the same fool move I did, so I can get back on my feet.

But the more I think about it, I realize happiness and simplicity go hand in hand. That the most important things in life become the only important things in life when you eliminate the clutter and the noise and take a second to breathe. I think everybody knows this. I just get so caught up in the lie of accumulation that I forget where to look for real happiness.

So this is breath number one. Cool.

Violent Music

2007-08-11T08:38:00.000-07:00

I've been saying for years that there are subliminal messages buried within Chris Martin's ever so sappy lyrics and Coldplay's ever so sappy music.

And now there's proof.

It would appear this woman just couldn't handle it any more and went ballistic. But who can blame her? "Yellow" sucks, and any jackass who would attempt to sing that in a karaoke bar DEFINITELY sucks. I really just hope this means Coldplay will be banned from karaoke bars.

Yeah? Well I'll "Fix You" too, motherf***er!

And if it wasn't enough that she went nuts in the bar, she attacked everyone else in the area, including an off-duy cop, who she "headbutted at least twice."

Seriously people. It's only a matter of time before somebody goes nuts because you're singing that God-awful "Chasing Cars" song by Snow Patrol and you get your ass shot. Stop listening before you're sucked into a world of violence that you can never escape from. Please.

HOT SUCKS.

2007-08-10T13:29:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure if we're in the throes of climate change. I don't know if the world is melting, and giant, lightning-throwing killer tornadoes are just around the corner. I don't know if California is going to be underwater next year. For all I know, greenhouse gases are going to bring dinosaurs back to life and they'll kill us all by December. (Which would be an AWESOME way to die, by the way. But that's another blog.)

All I can say is this: If CO2, the internal combustion engine, SUV's and cow flatulence are whats making it 106 degrees in Augusta, GA this week, somebody really dropped the ball.

Because this weather sucks major ass-butt-hole-ness. It makes me want to lay naked under my celing fan, crying.

This was what I looked like yesterday.

Pianos

2007-08-07T19:04:00.001-07:00

It's occurred to me that the word "pianos" is in the title of this blog, and I haven't written a single word about them.

I suppose I should preface this with: "I'm going to talk about my life here, so if you don't care, read the blog about taco genesis. It's more interesting."

I'm against the idea of forcing your kids to do anything they don't want to, for the most part. Granted, things like bathing, wearing underpants and pooping in a toilet are probably reasonable guidelines for instructing your kids. However, when it comes to fulfilling my unrealized childhood ambitions vicariously through my children, I'm not going to be the guy bouncing a soccer ball off my 5-year-old's forehead for an hour a day because my parents didn't push me hard enough to be David Beckham. (Damnit parents! SHE'S POSH SPICE! The hot one! COME ON!)

However, if I had to vouch for one "my parents made me do it" burdenous activity, music would be at the top of the list. Even if your kid sucks at it. My mother and grandmother began a conspiracy against me when I was 6 years old by purchasing a piano. They got a crazy, red-haired Irish Catholic authoritarian to teach me. And through 11 years of getting smacked in the head by pencil waving dictators (and many other teachers, at that), I learned the piano. I'm no Mozart, but I can play.

I quit when I was 16 to learn the bass. I thought it was more "punk rock" and it would help me pick up chicks.

This is a vicious, terrible lie. To this day, a girl has NEVER, EVER, EVER come up to me and said anything remotely resembling, "Wow, your bass playing is hot. I want your baby."

In fact, I think the closest thing to a compliment I've gotten from a lady (that I wasn't already dating) about my bass playing was, "Wow, you were really spazzing out up there! Cool..."

Fortunately, God blessed me with a wonderful woman anyway, but the point is- I probably should have stuck with the piano. My mother constantly reminded me the piano is the most romantic instrument, and that it melts her heart, and women blah, blah, blah, some long rumination about the 1970's, your father this and that and the other thing, etc.

(On third thought, maybe it's best that I started playing bass after all. I could have ended up the ivory-tickling pool boy fantasy of a 50 year old Steely Dan fanatic. And granted, as appealing as that sounds, I'm happy where I'm at. Thanks all the same though, destiny. It would have made for interesting dinner table converstation.)

Anyway, the point- kids need music. Whether they just learn enough to clap on beat or they can play Beethoven's Hammerklavier Sonata, it's important. I'm not saying I'll beat them over the head with a piano bench (though the picture does make me chuckle), but I'll probably do a little more gentle coaxing than even my mother or grandmother did to me. And the next time I feel like rebelling against the matriarchy, I'll just stop wearing underpants and bathing instead of quitting piano for the thrills (or lack thereof) of the punk-rock bass-player lifestyle.

Latin of the Day

2007-08-01T20:05:00.000-07:00

Cape nuces tuas et amove!
Take your nuts and get out of here!

Te relinquo; mores tuos agitantes invenio.
I'm leaving you; I find your behavior irritating.

Tempest est dormiendi.
Time for bed.

Tacos, cont.

2007-07-26T14:27:00.000-07:00

So friend, we know what tacos are and how they came to be. We even know a little about the "why?" behind tacos. However, the lingering question in all our minds is the same, of this I am sure.

Where in the world ~~is Carmen Sandiego?~~

are the tacos?

Oh, I wonder this too my friend. I wonder this too. And when I finally find them, you'll be the first to know.

Have you looked at Taco Cabana?

Return

2007-07-23T19:31:00.000-07:00

I am back from San Fransisco. A few highlights:

Getting schooled by 5th graders at basketball.
Watching a crazy old Cambodian lady get in a fight with a Ving Rhames lookalike over whether or not she got free groceries.
Snaps is the name of the game.
Playing an overindulgent amount of freeze dance, duck-duck-goose and green glass door.
Observing/avoiding female drama, ages 14-29.
Smells like pee.
Sleeping on a pool floatie.
Homoposters!
Wearing a mask made of peanut butter, rasins and chocolate chips.
In and Out Burger. Thrice.
Subsequent gas and bowel issues.
Homelessness. A lot.
Body surfing in the Pacific ocean. With my clothes on.
Giant Dipper.
The Dude getting in touch with his pentacostal side.
Watching kids with very little still enjoying life so much.
Seeing beauty in a very ugly place.
Knowing God still works in very mysterious ways.

I have many stories. Hit me up.

Just when you think...

2007-07-14T20:37:00.000-07:00

You've got the world by the horns, it turns on you and you're just another goring victim.

You've raged against the machine, you realize you're another cog in the factory system.

Troubles have come to end. They were just taking a breather.

You're a sharpener of men, you understand that you are the greatest hypocrite of them all.

Mommy, Where do Tacos come from?

2007-07-04T07:55:00.000-07:00

Furious debate has raged since mankind first gained the insight to ask questions, particularly on the subject of taco genesis. Although all scholars (aside from fringe extremists) agree that the taco does exist, there are two main camps that cross swords over the noble food's origin: Taco Evolutionists and Taco Creationists. We report, you decide.

Taco Evolutionism
In the beginning of time, there were two things: matter and energy. The matter, of course, was a tortilla, carne asada, cheese, lettuce and pico de gallo. The energy was...well, it was energy. Anyway, all the ingredients were floating around in space, and then they all collided with each other, exploded and the universe was formed. It was really hot for a while, and there were just single-celled tacos floating around in the primordial sour cream for a couple million years. Then, one of the taco cells grew legs and walked out. Over time, they evolved into huge tacosaurs, which roamed the earth. Coincidentally, there were cavemen there too, and they were damn hungry. So they formed death squads. Riding on pterodactyls, they used flame throwers and grenade launchers to kill thousands of the mighty beasts. Fueled onward by their hunger for taco flesh, they hunted the Tacosaurus to the brink of extinction. Then a meteor hit the earth and wiped them all out.

Then, on March 21, 1962, Glen Bell opened the first Taco Bell in Downey, California.

Taco Creationism
In the beginning, after God created Adam and Eve, He realized that mankind needed a way to combine all the important food groups into one delicious, easy to hold, easy to consume package. So God invented the taco, and it was good. Now God was walking in the garden to show Adam and Eve these wicked awesome goodies, but He couldn't find them. Eventually, He discovered them hiding behind some bushes with fig leaf thongs on. God knew what was up. And it was not good. A&E had eaten from the tree he told them not to, tried to be like God AND ruined their appetite for tacos- so God got righteously pissed: "I INVENTED THE GREATEST FOOD IN THE WORLD, AND YOU WENT AND SCREWED EVERYTHING UP!" Then the taco exploded in a huge flash of fire, animals were running all over and crapping on everything and eating each other, and when Adam and Eve woke up, they we kicked out of the garden. And mortal.

"This sucks!" said Adam.

Then God told them, "You guys are gonna die. It's gonna hurt a lot to have kids. Snakes are gonna bite you and life is gonna be pretty tough. But I still love you, even though you messed up. Here."

Then He gave them the recipe for tacos. Which took the sting off of mortality. Sort of.

The Mighty Taco, Pt. 1

2007-06-29T21:35:00.001-07:00

In an effort to make the world a more beautiful, educated place, I submit to you a saga of the worlds most noble food. This stunning mini-series will take you through the untold beauty of the taco world using vivid, full-color photos, real life testimonials from taco eaters around the globe and fascinating history that will leave you saying,

"Wow, I had no idea they had tacos in Pakistan!"

Oh, you will. You will.

What is a taco?
Tacos are many things. The most important:
1. The best thing to eat in the world. Period.
2. The godfather to all the other great foods in the world.
3. A hall pass that works at your grown up job
4. Your best friend forever, even when you don't call for 6 months
5. Jesus' favorite food
6. A temporary substitute for a real relationship
7. The key to a successful marriage
8. One of the finest artists of the 20th century.

C'mon. Don't be an idiot.

Stop Crapping on me

2007-06-28T21:54:00.000-07:00

I called the lady and asked if I could lower my interest rate. She said no, so I cancelled my credit card. In the following 48 hours:

I agreed to pay for my mom's 400 dollar plane ticket to come visit me. Which is awesome, except that I don't even have a finished bathroom in my house for her to use when she arrives (in one week!)

I had to take Tyson, my foster dog (who is going back to his original family in ONE WEEK) to the emergency room because he ran his dumbass through a bramble patch and seriously gashed his legs and paws open. And that cost 400 dollars.

And as I'm driving my car today, I notice the temperature is really high. It overheats. My radiator is leaking. My engine is covered in coolant. I manage to make it home. I'm sure this is going to cost me. Unfortunately, I can't get it fixed tommorow, because i have to work. I'm gonna guess that it'll cost 200-400 dollars.

400+400+400+no credit cards= empty, overdrafted bank account.

This coming smack dab in the middle of my "work" week- I've been in for 6-8 hours on both of my off days this week, and now I'm going in for three more days. I'm overwhelmed. I'm miserable. I'm broke. And I'm complaining a lot. I'd say "feel sorry for me!" but I'm already doing that. And I'd feel even more crazy, because I know nobody is reading this.

ENJOY THE VENTING SESSION, NOBODY!!!

Phrases for the growing parent

2007-06-27T13:04:00.001-07:00

Gratis deis solum tres annos plures dum te exercitui iungis.
(Thank God, only 3 more years until you join the army.)

Te vendam si non bene moratus es!
(I'll sell you if you don't behave!)

Sile et sede!
(Sit down and shut up!)

Hamsters

2007-06-27T12:43:00.000-07:00

I have a firm belief that my life is currently a giant hamster wheel.

I am caught in an endless cycle of mundane.

Eat.
Feed dog.
Go to work.
Stay at work too long.
Call Rene.
Check email.
Eat.
Masturbate.
Feel guilty.
Call my mom.
Play the same song on the piano.
Overcome guilt.
Promise to do better tommorow.
Fall asleep.
Repeat.

This sucks.

The Primate World Order

2007-06-25T22:39:00.001-07:00

I'm quite confident that many things that I do will be done by computers/monkeys very soon. In fact, once they teach a monkey how to type, I'm sure almost all government jobs will be done by primates.

Which means that monkey blogs are almost a certain inevitability.

Terrifying Photo of Actual Monkey Blogger

(and somehow, they'll figure out how to throw feces at you, online. This is terrifying to me, because I have nightmares about primate feces.)

The anger over the monkey blogs will upset enough web-savvy bloggers, and a war will begin. And because wars are fought at the lowest common denominator, the weapons will be purely scatological in nature. It will be ugly. Shit will literally:

Roll down hills
Hit fans
Become very, very deep
Be eaten for breakfast

Monkeys will take to the streets. We're talking doo-doo bombs here. We're talking banana inspired doo-doo flinging catapults here! I WILL GET DOO-DOO IN MY EYEBALL! COME ON!!! DO I HAVE TO SAY DOO-DOO AGAIN?

It gives guerrilla warfare a whole new meaning, doesn't it?
(Brilliant pun self! Who said you're not funny? Who said it? Hah! They're not laughing now, are they! Wait, don't we want them to be laughing now? Damn!)

Enough! Write Congressman Norm Dicks of Washington's 6th Congressional District today and demand all monkeys be put to death! Especially the endangered and cute ones. Because they have a lot to write about.

P.S. Congressman Dicks kindly asks you to refrain from banal jokes about his name.