Quiet Sunday Morning Secret

Peppermint hot chocolate reveals

One of my consistent little joys over the past few months has been reading a blog, PostSecret, Sunday mornings with coffee while my family sleeps.

After reading PostSecret and if you were spying on my Google Reader settings, you might be confused that I've filed my subscription under humor even though many of the secrets are sad.

My black-as-coal-heart is convinced that the original mission of PostSecret has been subverted by self-indulgent artist types with their usual abundance of both time on their hands and self-loathing.

Having kept my inner-poet still alive all these years with a quarterly feeding of brooding, my firm belief is that when artists compete for recognition of being most broken and completely pathetic, we all win. The spoils of their work are only truly appreciated when the underlying fraud that all artists represent is recognized.

I assume we all have secrets. I know I have mine. I cannot share them, not ever with anyone. If I could, they wouldn't be secrets.

Whatever Chuck Wants Chuck Gets

Please vote for Ben-Hur

I want so much to see Ben-Hur on the big screen in my neighborhood, please vote for it as your gift to me. Merry Christmas everyone!

I've got big plans for a new comic I'd like to draw and publish at least weekly in the coming year. It revolves around a cast of four quirky characters.

The goal is to be extremely funny, but I tend to over-giggle at my own jokes so don't get your hopes up.

Update (2007-12-23) I've written a robot program to vote for Ben-Hur; the election bylaws allow voting as often as one pleases... Currently Ben-Hur stands at 17% in 6th place out of 12.

Update (2008-01-10) My robot didn't work out, but thankfully Ben-Hur made the cut anyway. Thank you to everyone who pitched in for me => And the Winner Is...

The Irish Are So Cool

Why I bleed green

Regarding the pending governing treaty of the European Union, Irishman Declan Ganley said at press conference last week, "The treaty is being sold as a warm bowl of soup with nice vegetable bits, we'll be pointing to the dead mice in there."

My name is O'Shaughnessy and I've been playing the Irishman card for so long, I almost believe it too. The truth is that I'm over 100 pounds Polish sausage and only a few sacks of potatoes Irish. Who could blame me for living the lie? I give you exhibits A and B.

Sarcastic Olympics

Pick a book, any book

Event 1 - Find a book on Amazon and write the most entertaining, farcical and sarcastic review that you can. Find an obscure book without many reviews, so your words will stand out. There is no prize, save smug self-satisfaction knowing that you've contributed properly to the fall of civilization.

Here is an example that inspired me, to give you an idea - but do better. Post a comment here with your permalink that leads us to your handiwork. Go!

Neither Sleet Nor Snow

Just give it up already

I don't want postal mail anymore. Nothing. My wife isn't on board yet, but I've drawn the line in the sand. On January 1st 2010 I plan on removing my mail box from its brick enclosure, tastefully filling the opening with bricks.

I've already asked my United States Post Office insiders what the consequences would be, and they were delightful! All first class mail would get returned to their senders as undeliverable, postage due - but fuck them. Why are they mailing me shit anyway? It's 2010 damn it. I don't have fiber optic Internet piped into my house so I can get my slippers wet and muddy to retrieve the real spam in this world. All other inferior-class mail just gets hooped into the trash by the mail carrier. My slippers are clean.

Now my wife doesn't think this is a good idea, but I'm set on this course of action. I don't really see how she can stop me. I'm quite insane.

Friend is Spelled Amphibian

I miss my turtles so

Even though they were jerks that took off the first chance they could, I never regretted spending a tidy fortune on turtle toys and blistering my hands digging them their very own suburban paradise pond. I still look out out for wandering turtles loose on Legacy Drive near the bicycle path greenbelt. I'm hoping I'll see another lost turtle soul to take home.

Last Minute Christmas Gift Idea

Because Islam makes bad neighbors

What I like about religion, or what I like about what religion does for me is about moderating the mindset of my neighbors. The definition of a good religion to me is one that keeps my neighbors sane, safe and in check. I want them to not steal from me, respect my privacy and generally present no danger. Christianity for all its kookiness, actually fulfills this aim quite nicely for the vast majority of my neighbors. Conversely, Islam appears to be of absolutely no influence of this sort. That whole bit about women being lower than dirt and killing me because I'm an infidel seem to cement the deal.

Leaves

Winter passes as fall in Plano

Favorite Thing Today

Best Blog I've Found

Fulfilling my inner geek

I can't live on complaining alone, that's why I so relish the escape of technical blogs. When they are well written, nothing soothes the savage beast better. This new blog, Inside the Oracle Optimizer, about the inner-workings of this complicated Oracle 11g functionality appears to be just what the doctor ordered.

I work with quite a few people who use Oracle and none of them understand Oracle. They don't understand databases in general. I do not grow in my profession instructing and saving these people.

One Million Dollars

How much would I pay?

Assuming it sounds tremendous, and Plant still has it, I think that is about how much I'd pay to see them roll through Dallas. Ok, maybe $500.

Good Riddance Fuckers

Maybe you should have called me back

When you bring someone in for two interviews, taking six hours and gas money from a family man, call them and tell them they didn't get the job. Don't refuse to call me for a week, and then when I call you dodge my call and never answer my voice mails. So, good riddance fuckers. CompUSA was always a stupid store without either a consumer or business point of view. Reap what you sow, I say. Frulatti, you are next.