Aed the Whelpe

Super Late Entry: Ultimate Weapon!

2011-12-04T16:53:00.001-08:00

It's still the only one, so I think my train gun wins. I just got a photoshop program and wanted to play around with it, but I'm still not that great at it. But here's the train gun in action showing that it is good anywhere, against anything.

And, as you might have guessed, the train gun actually creates dimensional rifts where trains--which the company has going along looped tracks at all times and at various speeds--depending on the setting you use--burst full speed out your gun at your enemy.

There are of course other options. And yes, they have these lions leaping non-stop pony express style so there's always a lion ready to jump out at your enemy... and pounce them to smithereens.

But mainly trains. Olde Timey ones too, but I'll photoshop that another time.

And as much as I searched, I could not find a good picture of 12 year old boys to show you what the train gun could do to them, but you can use your imagination.

Remember "Spare me my life!"?

2011-11-09T15:39:00.000-08:00

Guy an a Buffalo

2011-09-28T14:35:00.000-07:00

Not the ultimate weapon, but definitely the ultimate.

Challenge the Next!

2011-09-17T19:48:00.001-07:00

The other day I was talking with a friend at work about a zombie apocalypse. We were speaking of the benefits of a good polearm. Much better at dealing with zombies because it gives you some breathing room and doesn't run out of bullets. And yet, bullets sure are nice in a zombie apocalypse. While they last. Anyway, so we started thinking of rifle/polearms which are not just rifle's with bayonets. As it got more elaborate--a staff with blades on both ends and somehow shooting out of both or one end as well--I got to thinking, what IS the ultimate weapon? Surely the interweb could help give some awesome ideas. So I googled it and came up with... nothing much.

I mean, it's fun and all, but I was hoping for something plenty more ultimate. There were some swords, some guns, some crowbars with sniper sights, but nothing really ultimate. Googling "Most Dangerous Weapon" didn't drastically improve results.

Panzer bot is pretty awesome, but it's not quite ultimate. Is this not a gross oversight? Google most dangerous animal and you'll get tons of awesome stuff from a shark/elephant to bearsharktopus to this:

Anyway, the challenge I propose, if Aed's still up for challenges, is to come up with and post the ultimate weapon. The internet needs it, those planning on fighting hordes of 12 year olds need it, and the future Steward of Scotland will certainly need it.

Post entries by Oct 20th.

I know it might be fake, but still...

2011-09-15T20:04:00.000-07:00

Slapping Lions

2011-07-20T08:42:00.000-07:00

This is one of the most awesome things I've heard since Elephant-Riding Space Cowboys.

This guy is going to fight a lion... for freedom. "When I defeat the lion - which I will - I will pull an Israeli flag out of my pocket, and drape it over the lion, and put my foot on it."

Al-Masry: If the event is successful, how will you follow it up? More lion fights?

Essawy: I have a whole series of shows planned in my head. I will pull an airplane with my teeth, and I will pull an airplane with my hair. I will also be run over by an airplane. In between each of these acts, there will be lion battles.

How will he fight?

"I will have to use a new fighting style I’ve developed, which is called 'Life or Death.'"

What does that fighting style consist of?

"Everything. It consists of a series of combination moves. I will start off with the slaps, but, you should know, my slaps are unlike any other. My strength is truly incredible and unprecedented."

Anyway, I should stop cutting and pasting some awesome bits from the interview. It's all awesome. All the time.

Just overheard while walking across the U of U campus...

2011-06-28T15:29:00.001-07:00

"So, do you think animals have STDs?"

That's the question...what do you think?

Helloooooooo! Is anyone still out there?

This is mostly for Spencer

2010-12-16T13:28:00.001-08:00

All 12 chapters of Trapped in the Closet synced and played at once.

Chapters 1-12 of R. Kelly's Trapped In The Closet Synced and Played Simultaneously (2006) by Michael Bell-Smith. Courtesy EAI. from Why + Wherefore on Vimeo.

I WIN!

2010-11-18T10:50:00.000-08:00

...because no one else entered. :(

Looks like Spencer will be wearing this on Saturday:

And, of course, this will be stitched into the crotch of his trousers:

The Return of the Creative Challenge

2010-11-04T18:45:00.000-07:00

Remember the days when we issued regular challenges to each other that encouraged creativity, sharpened wit, and kept the band together? I miss those days. Ergo, I am bringing back the challenge.

This particular directive is in honor of our dear friend, Spencer, who currently smiles at me from the surface of my refrigerator, along with lovely Heather, whom he will soon marry. These two will marry on Saturday, 20 November, as we as his friends will need to help him decide to wear on such a grand occasion. This is your task, my friends:

Each of us must provide a suggestion, a design, or some sort of inspiration for what Spencer will wear to his luncheon and/or reception (I guess we all know what he'll be wearing to the actual wedding). These must be posted by Wednesday, 17 November, in order to allow Spencer enough time to decide what to wear on the following Saturday.

I miss you all and love you very much. And I hope that you're all still checking this blog.

Music to Soothe Your Troubled Soul(s)

2010-10-29T20:36:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67gzsRgRzAE

Imagine a movie

2010-03-30T10:37:00.000-07:00

that ends like this:

Now Netflix "Second Glance."

Just in Case You Were Wondering

2010-01-27T12:45:00.000-08:00

Young Tom Waits Looks Like Jim

2009-11-11T09:49:00.000-08:00

Uncanny, no?

I care to differ...

2009-11-01T21:55:00.000-08:00

Were you taking the Bearsharktopus into account?

The most dangerous thing you could ever encounter

2009-09-18T10:52:00.001-07:00

Time Has Elapsed

2009-06-24T14:00:00.000-07:00

Time has elapsed on the story writing contest.

Those who failed to submit are disqualified from winning this particular challenge, though the winner is free to choose someone who did not submit to choose a new challenge. We hope to get more participation in the future. Ahem, despite any “legitimate” excuses that people may have.

Excuses like, “I was out of the country,” or “An alien was growing in my peritoneal cavity,” or “I’m too cool,” or "I was going to, but I think the Lincoln assasination is still kind of clogging up my psyche," or whatever it may be.

Voting ends July 10, 2009 at precisely 2pm. Please have a read, a laugh, a smile, maybe shed a tear or two, and then vote for which story you liked best.

Sincerely,

Hercules Albinious Copperpot Dupré

The Breadbox

2009-05-24T16:17:00.001-07:00

It was a dark night. It was a stormy night. Far down wolves howled and wailed at the black, moonless sky like clerics of some primeval sodality. Aqueous orbs tumbled and twirled from their cumulonimbeous birth to the lonely earth below, shattering into millions of featureless specks - bursting and breaking their bodies on the windows of the house where, inside, it was warm and dry.

The last embers of the hearth fire were dying slowly as the old man sharpened his knife on the leather strap, crouched like a wizard at the cauldron. It had to be sharp. It would be sharp. He tried to avoid the thought of another night holed up in this old cabin. The rain and perhaps the wolves had driven them away to seek shelter, but he knew they would return. He could try and make a run for it but on foot and in his condition he’d make it one, maybe two miles before they caught his scent and chased him down.

The knife was sharp enough. He cracked the barrel of the shotgun – still loaded. Four shells left in the box. That meant five shots. That wasn’t much, but with the windows securely boarded, plenty of food and water, he could last four more weeks if he was careful. He stabbed a piece of spam with the knife and let it slide down into his mouth. The saltiness of the meat made him thirsty.

“Too bad there was no alcohol in this shack,” he thought. Not that he’d drink any. Sure, it’d take the edge off, but he needed that edge if he was going to survive this. He could still hear the wolves howling, but now it sounded less like a spiritual cry in the night and more like the barbaric yawp of a crazed warrior standing over his slain opponent, blood still steaming and sloshing out in waves while the dying heart convulsed in reflexive spasms.

“They must’ve got one,” he thought. Whether they did or whether the wolves would turn after eating their rotting flesh was a frippery he didn’t need to waste time thinking about. A swear left his lips. “Shit.” He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know anything.

Knock, knock, knock. They were here. He crouched down near the couch, the hair stood up in the back of his neck and he prepared himself for the barrage of pounding and moaning that would soon begin all around the cabin. He waited.
Knock, knock, knock. “Hello? Is anyone in there?” Knock, knock. The doorknob clicked and clacked as whoever it was tried to open the door. More knocking and then the voice again, that of a young girl. “Please, let me in.”

The old man peered through the peephole and saw a girl, maybe 19 or 20 standing outside; a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her blonde hair. She was soaked. He unlatched the bolts and chains and removed the board laid across the frame and opened the door, ushering the young woman in and then quickly relocking the door and replacing the heavy board that barricaded it.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” barked the old man.

“My name is Shannon, we were camping up at Deep Creek when they came,” she said tearfully. “My family is dead. What are they?”

“The living dead,” said the man, avoiding any chance for misunderstanding.

“What do you mean?” asked the girl.

“What I said. Like the Book of Revelations says, the dead will rise, the sea will yield up her dead, yadda yadda yadda, and so here we are.”

The arrival of the girl meant company, but it also meant danger. Four weeks turned to 2, maybe 3 with an extra 140lbs to feed. His chances of making it on foot were even less now, unless… no, no, thay wasn’t a viable option. Her couldn’t be like them or leave her to them.

Now that she was here though, a dreadful realization came into his head: the breadbox. She couldn’t touch it, she couldn’t touch it. She must never open it or touch it.

“Don’t touch the breadbox.”

“What?”

“Leave my breadbox alone. Never open it.”

“What? Okay fine,” the girl answered confused.

“It’s just – I don’t like – Don’t mess with it or look inside. I have a phobia of people messing with my breadbox.”

“Okay,” the girl said, unsure of how to react, unsure about whether this cabin was actually safer than the woods, even with them out there. At least it was better to be locked inside with an old kook and his vagaries than be outside with a group of cannibalistic undead. The breadbox looked normal enough, and she was fine with leaving it alone.

“You hungry?” snapped the old man.

“No,” Shannon said, pulling her knees up to her chest as she sat against the wall.

“There’s beans on the stove.”

“No thank you, I’m not hungry.”

“Well you will be soon enough.”

Five days passed by with no sign of life or them outside the cabin. The rain had stopped, but no birds sang, and at night there were no more cries from the wolves, not even the crickets chirped. Shannon’s initial concerns about the old man faded as time passed on. Since his initial warning about the breadbox, he hadn’t done anything crazy or irrational. In fact, he had proven quite saavy and aware of current events, movies, etc. He reminded her of her grandfather except he was clean shaven and her grandfather wore a well-trimmed moustache. She had never seen him touch the breadbox or open it. Her curiosity grew day by day.

On the sixth day, she decided she would wait until the old man fell asleep in the late afternoon, as he had for the five days beforehand, then she would quickly flip open the lid of the breadbox, see what was inside, and close it just as quickly. A short glimpse would be all she’d need.

About four-o’clock, the old man’s eyelids started to droop and before long, his breathing took on the unmistakable rhythm of slumber. She crept quickly and quietly across the room to the counter where the breadbox lie. Her fingers steadily reached for the small handle, wrapped around it, and gently lifted up to reveal the inside of the box.

The old man was ripped awake by a powerful force, as if someone had tied a speedboat to his chest and pulled him off the beach at full power. Then he felt the freezing cold and the void and blackness all around him. He struggled for breath, as he floated helplessly about, the young girl slowly rotating a few feet from him, mimicking the rotation of the blue planet below. As each one of his cells was cut to shreds by the ice crystals beginning to form inside them and as his lungs sucked in on themselves like a vacuum packed steak he had two almost simultaneous thoughts: he should’ve taken his chances with the zombies, and that stupid girl opened the breadbox. She opened the damn breadbox.

Adventures of Liz, Book 3: A Winter’s Feel Good Story

2009-05-21T13:02:00.000-07:00

It was a dark night. It was a stormy night. Far down wolves howled and wailed at the black, moonless sky like clerics of some primeval sodality. Aqueous orbs tumbled and twirled from their cumulonimbeous birth to the lonely earth below, shattering into millions of featureless specks - bursting and breaking their bodies on the windows of the house where, inside, it was warm and dry.

However, despite the warmth, the mood in the house was a sniffly, miserable sort. The combined bad mood of 20 or so out-of-shape individuals who had just skied cross country for 3 hours through torrential snow. Liz had warned them. She didn’t know how this trip had ever taken off in the first place. Eric, her supervisor, had said he’d like her to plan a little outing for the office. To engender office solidarity. Liz thought that really Eric hoped having her plan it would make her feel more a part of the office team, not so new. Liz agreed to do it with some trepidation, thinking no one – except maybe a few of the student employees – would sign up to come. Not all these mothers and fathers and grandparents that worked here.

She didn’t know that Eric had sent everyone else in the office a memo “strongly encouraging” them to go on the retreat. When she’d seen that most of the office had signed up to come, she had said a swear. A very bad one.

As the day of the retreat approached Liz had hoped that the threat of a snow storm would scare everyone off. She imagined several people excusing themselves, saying, “I’m sorry but I have the most terrible fear of, um, snow.” Instead Eric assured everyone that the snow wouldn’t come until later in the day, and if they left early enough they’d be safe and warm in plenty of time. Liz had wanted to say, “No one ever leaves early enough,” but she refrained.

They did not leave early enough. And of course everyone had weighed down their packs with all the frippery items Liz had told them not to bring. She found it hard to watch her colleagues try to manage the skis with their legs wobbling here and there. It didn’t take long for people to start saying things like, “I thought you said it was flat,” with fake smiles on their strained faces.

Joey and Steve were the only student employees that had ended up coming. They were athletic and kept rushing off ahead of the group then skiing back without even working up a sweat, reminding Liz of a couple of 7 year olds and irritating everyone else. About every 15 minutes one or another of the group would ask for a rest stop. After about an hour Gerald – an older man who Liz though of as a suspicious character – said, “How close are we? It’s gotta be only a few more minutes.” When Liz said they weren’t even half way, he called her a bad word. One which even she seldom used.

Soon after that it started snowing. Hard. Most of them hadn’t worn the proper gear and were soon soaked through (“I thought you said cotton was good for wicking!” Phyllis had said.) An hour later, a few people had actually started crying, and the requests for rest stops had increased to every 5 minutes.
Liz suggested at one point that they should turn around, but Eric swore it would take less time to forge on to the house. He seemed to be having the time of his life, and Liz was pretty sure that some of her colleagues would never forgive him for it. Nor, she bet, would they forgive her.
When they finally reached the house and threw their wet, frozen bodies through the doorway, Liz thought no one except Eric, Joey, and Steve, would ever talk to her again. Everyone else huddled together near the fire, which Liz had made sure to get started as soon as she’d laid her gear to the side. They kept their backs to her. Eric sat with them, talking cheerfully, and people responded because he was their boss, though they gave him bitter looks behind his back. After getting settled Joey and Steve pulled out a couple packs of beer each. Liz looked at them in barely covered disbelief. What kind of vagaries did they think they were going to be getting up to out here?
It didn’t take long for the two boys to get stupid drunk. Some people had started talking about braving the cold again in order to use the outhouse situated several yards from the house, but no one wanted to do it. Suddenly Joey offered, “If you don’t want to walk all the way to the outhouse just go in the snow.” Someone retorted that it would be even colder.
“You just gotta brace yourself.” Joey said.
“Why don’t you do it then?” Steve said, laughing a little in a stupid drunk sort of way. I bet you can’t stay out there long enough to write your whole name in the snow.”
“I bet I can stay out there longer than you can.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Liz said. She didn’t have much patience for these sorts of competitions. But Steve and Joey didn’t listen to her. When they pulled open the door, the wind that blew in felt frigid. Everyone shouted at them until they closed the door behind them. A couple people got up to watch them through the window, but most everyone else stayed by the fire, pretending at disinterest. Liz didn’t imagine that Steve and Joey’s delicate man parts could stand up to the freezing air for long, and she was right. Steve got to the second ‘e’ in his name before zipping up and rushing back to the house, where he hopped and grunted and tried not to cradle his crotch.
Joey forced himself almost to the second to last letter of his last name, Belliozingel, then came stumbling back in, trying to force a look of triumph onto his pained face. “I’m the Wizard of Whizz!” he shouted, then crumpled up in a ball, grabbed his privates, and began to moan.
For a moment everyone stayed silent, but as they watched the two boys writhe on the floor, the humor of the situation began to overcome the bad moods brought on by the arduous cross country trek. Everyone started laughing. Eventually even Steve and Joey laughed too. 20 minutes later, a few card games and board games had broken out. Phyllis had pulled Liz into a conversation with a couple other ladies, Eric was telling some of the other men about the time he escaped an avalanche, and Steve and Joey – having changed into warmer pants – sat with Gerald, exchanging what sounded like dirty jokes. Liz looked around, and thought maybe the retreat hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

Give Bollywood

2009-05-20T13:04:00.001-07:00

another chance... and that is assuming you've written it off. I had until I saw this.

But it's back for some serious ass kicking!

They Came to Us

2009-05-17T00:37:00.000-07:00

It was a dark night. It was a stormy night. Far down wolves howled and wailed at the black, moonless sky like clerics of some primeval sodality. Aqueous orbs tumbled and twirled from their cumulonimbeous birth to the lonely earth below, shattering into millions of featureless specks—bursting and breaking their bodies on the windows of the house where, inside, it was warm and dry.
Of course, warm and dry were relative words in this case as the night cap cart had tipped over and spilled the what Jeremy had thought of as quite a fine collection of spirits. And even after cleaning away the precious liqueurs, his spirits remained dampened. Nor did this help Gail’s mood. She was visiting from Oregon where she had moved years before in hopes of tracking down Big Foot. In ten years she had yet to have a sighting although certain evidences suggested some kind of presence. She and Jeremy had been school friends who had crushes enough to keep in touch and who kept in touch enough to get together when she was in town, but not enough to have much to talk about when they did. They sat at a table near a window watching the rain after Jeremy’s attempt at talking about Ruskin hadn’t got going.
Had they been able to follow those specks, tracing them to where they coalesced in the clouds, they would have seen a similarly shaped but utterly alien speck also tumbling and twirling, with infinitely greater grace and purpose, down towards the house, its windows, and its spirit-dampened occupants. This orb, utterly un-cumulonimban in origin grew larger and larger as it approached until finally, even with the scant light and their coarse eyes, they saw what looked like a huge rain drop descend out of the sky, stop near the ground, then shift into a fairly human, though unisex, form.
Jeremy let out a swear. What was this/that? He blinked. Gail blinked. The thing blinked and began walking towards them.
Jeremy scrambled. Think eggs. He grabbed all around him looking for something, hyperventilating, and crouching low to the ground. Gail didn’t move. It wasn’t so much that she was brave, but that she seemed caught in some wizard spell. This was weird. The humanoid approached the house, his feet barely echoing on the wooden porch before the door opened, and it walked inside. Gail had turned her head, and Jeremy now froze, arms out, half crouching near the couch as if he was in the middle of the escalator gag he’d been fond of for about a semester in College.
The humanoid looked first at Gail and then, for a slightly longer time, at Jeremy while he emitted a soft humming sound for a few moments. There was a pause in which the impossibility of breaking the silence in the room settled down on Gail and Jeremy with a force they had never known. Jeremy thought it would drive him mad. Then it spoke.
“You are male and female of the species?”
It spoke perfectly, but there was something unfamiliar about the way it came out. Neither could tell if it was the flattish tone, the feeling that it was spoken with at once none and all of the dialects of English, or the way he paused one moment before each time he spoke and then rushed through everything. Something in the way the voice formed words perhaps. Had things turned out differently, they may have discussed this at great length on similarly rainy nights when she was back in town. As it was, Jeremy had no one to really talk to about it.
It was Gail who said, yes.
“I have been searching for something like you for a very long time.”
Jeremy’s first reaction was sarcastic. Really? You didn’t see the tons of other males and females down the street or… his thoughts were engulfed in tangents of how this being sensed until it was brought back to the pain in his leg muscles from standing so long and its next request.
“Will you come and meet my people?”
Again it was Gail who said, yes. It was then that he gained a hitherto unknown appreciation for the vagaries of the feminine mind. The being seemed unsurprised, if it felt such things. It did however, nod.
“You’ve been watching us?” Jeremy finally spoke. A longer pause than usual before it nodded and said, “that is how you would understand. We will go now.” It expanded into an amorphous bubble that was half open with lighted footprints walking up into its middle. One set was pink, one was blue. Gail smiled in spite of the strangeness, Jeremy was blank faced. They looked at each other for a moment before Gail, still smiling, walked towards the visitor, followed the pink footsteps inside, turned, and looked at Jeremy. What could he do? He followed.
With so many things vying for the title of the strangest thing, it was the in flight TV that seemed to be offered. Even Jeremy had to laugh at that in spite of kind of wishing they could just look out a window or something. They could tell they were rising and moving in different directions, but little else. After some silence, the voice of their visitor/conveyance spoke again.
“Are you communicating right now? Or do you have nothing to say? You have questions for me perhaps? I am from far away from a similar but advanced planet. Remarkably similar.”
“You’re like us?” Gail asked, incredulous.
“We were. We have since discarded much frippery you hang on to. Again, it was in the small things that this experience most approached unreality.
Soon Jeremy also became capable of small talk with the visitor. Most small talk ended however when they found out the visitor had been searching for other life for more than 20 million years. After asking many many times, confirming there was no miscommunication, another silence fell on the occupants until they felt themselves slowing down.
Moments later the skin, or whatever it was, slid open, and they saw a small group of more unisex humanoids with similarly clear, sleek, and luminescent skin staring at them. Gail fainted. Jeremy looked at her, dumb. Suddenly they were both outside their visitor who told him not to worry, they would restore her to optimal working order and to please come with him. She was taken by another of the aliens while he was ushered to a sitting room. He would curse this weakness later.
While waiting, Jeremy came out of his numbness. Well, if anyone could fix her it would probably be these things, he thought. His host told him she had sprained one of her ankles and gotten a bruise. How it knew, he didn’t know.
“So, you going to take me to your leader or something? Didn’t want to see mine?”
A short pause and then, “we are our leaders. We work together.” That didn’t seem to be an answer to Jeremy, so he asked less questions.
Curiosity and discomfort finally forced a “Are you a man or a woman?” It seemed his host was avoiding the question with talk of malleability and progress when two more aliens entered the room. One said, “the female of the species has been restored to working condition and upgraded to near optimal performance.” Jeremy didn’t immediately know that “near optimal” meant that everything except her 23-year-old brain had been replaced by their kind hosts. In a voice both alien and familiar Jeremy heard his name. It was then that he stopped taking a passive role in the events occurring.

Contest Extension

2009-05-10T13:00:00.001-07:00

Due to inclement weather, the contest deadline has been extended one week.

Now everyone better submit one.

Or else.

Meanwhile. Watch this. You're gonna love my nuts. Stop have boring tuna. Stop having a boring life.

This doesn't necessarily make me think of Jordan...

2009-05-07T20:30:00.001-07:00

but kind of.

View this.

It's fun AND educational.

Just like J. Faux.

For some reason, this always makes me think of Spencer

2009-05-04T18:54:00.001-07:00

I'm on a boat

Click and bask in awe and wonder.

If the recession is hitting you hard...

2009-04-18T11:04:00.000-07:00

Get this job!

2009-04-09T04:19:00.000-07:00

So this is the new challenge, and it's somewhat more structured than previous challenges. Below you will find opening lines to a story. Your task is to finish the story.

You must start with the prompt:

Prompt:
It was a dark night. It was a stormy night. Far down wolves howled and wailed at the black, moonless sky like clerics of some primeval sodality. Aqueous orbs tumbled and twirled from their cumulonimbeous birth to the lonely earth below, shattering into millions of featureless specks - bursting and breaking their bodies on the windows of the house where, inside, it was warm and dry.

You are limited to 4 double-spaced, 12 point font, 1-in margin pages and you must include the following words and elements:

Words:
• frippery
• vagaries
• "a swear" - as in "Liz said a swear." Literally the word "a", followed by the word "swear."
• wizard

Elements:
• A suspicious character
• Some kind of phobia
• A misunderstanding

Due Date: Saturday, May 9

Horsies

2009-04-08T09:02:00.001-07:00

You're curious about this photo, aren't you?

Transporter 3: Revolutionizing World Cinema or Not as Good as the First Two?

2009-04-03T11:41:00.001-07:00

So Rose and I saw Transporter 3 this past week and it was an exciting affair around the edges. I could have done without the romance in the middle.

I just have to say that it was a perfect example of Jim's idea of the hyper-masculine film. He kicks everyone's a$$, drives a $120,000 car with a W-12 engine (which is 3x the size of my little Hyundai engine and 4x the horsepower), has sexy European women begging to have sex with him, and he's totally ripped/has a sweet accent/drives his car on top of/into a train. Plus he floated his sinking car out of a river using dufflebags filled with air from the tires, got the car running again in less than 10 minutes, somehow got more air into the tires and was off to catch the stupid baddy.

The only things that doesn't fit Jim's idea is that the Transporter is friends with a French guy and he fishes with a pole and not a speargun/nuclear submarine.

So in the end, it was a decent action romp, but nothing compared to this sequence from the first movie:

Arguably the best scene in any movie, anywhere, at anytime, ever.

We did get to see more of Jason Statham's signature front kick in Transporter 3, which was good, but all in all, I'd say it wasn't a great ending to the trilogy, although there were plenty of fireworks. The first one really is, and I'm not exaggerating, an all-time action classic and will go down in history as such. One of the best indie action movies of all time, if not the best.

Saw this and had to share

2009-04-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

In the "real world" these villains totally would have dominated their counterpart "heroes" no matter how much I may have loved/love them.

7 Bad Ass Cartoon Villains Who Lost to Lame Heroes.

Our most effervescent and enthusiastic congratulations...

2009-02-10T10:51:00.000-08:00

To Rose & Jordan, who tied for first place in Aed the Whelpe's latest challenge! In addition to joining your brilliant brains together to determine the next challenge, you are also both the winners of the secret, mysterious, extra special additional prize, which was to name Rose & Jordan's first baby. Please enjoy this privilege, which would otherwise not have been yours.

Along these lines...

2009-02-02T16:59:00.001-08:00

Did you know that the actor who plays Mr. Boddy in Clue is a man named Lee Ving?

What's in a Spame?

2009-01-24T22:31:00.000-08:00

Three months ago, throughout the night, I began to receive spam from Asia every twelve to 18 minutes. Like most things from Asia, it’s kind of quirkier and more awesome than what we get in the states. The spam itself is completely unintelligible, but they addresses are all from addresses with first and last names. Delightful first and last names that give me no end of pleasure. Seriously. I can’t empty my spam box usually until I’ve checked if there are any lovely names waiting for me.

Usually spam comes from someone like nbx2att4pn6wrlm-ny@booksable.com or b4enaifsno2a8h-8be@pagejewel.com. But these came from real sounding, though ethnically confused, names. Names that seem like real people. I love the attention to detail it provides. People like Frederic Dutton, Pansy Herrington, Nadia Downing, Hilary Prescott, Ollie Cormier, Julia Guevara, Rosa Dowdy, Ivan Velez, and Nora Hogue. Names of people that I might want to use in a novel I might someday write. Not a novel about a group of lovable but slightly detestable spammers going through life, love, and mid-20s-angst, but some international psychological thriller with Nadia as my heroine. Or perhaps Nora. Nora Hogue, international secretary for a WHO exec who gets murdered just as an odd but attractive man shows up in her life at a gala.

And there are more. The evocative but inscrutable Penelope Lanier for instance. Her lovable but meddlesome neighbor, Frankie Lambert. And Sebastian Washington is just waiting for a Dickensian novel to come give him his rags to riches story. Maura Simms, neglected child of avid online second lifers. Latisha Denny, daughter of immigrants or mixed parentage or just a small town girl who craved an exotic name change when she came of age? Herschel Knight, Jewish? Chivalrous? Lovable but prudish, Teddy Pritchett. Everyone’s pal, Bobbie Guy. Or the round-faced man of mystery, Owen Napier. The erudite trucker, Liechtenstein Fenton. And, finally, the fabled, many-faced Lazaro Potter who stars in daytime soaps opposite Tisha Williams.

Remember Rosdan?

2009-01-22T11:11:00.000-08:00

Well, this is son of Rosdan.

I hereby present the Next-in-line Custodian of Scotland, Jr., the Right Honourable Socrates Caligula Trevor Trevor Trevor Faux Fur For Fox Fur Ford Faux, Esq.

Name That Baby!!!

2009-01-21T07:26:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend I was considering letting myself be defeated by a bad man and an American stick insect. By the time I had decided to not be defeated, the deadline for this had already passed. But I'm submitting this anyway. And I must give credit for the inception of this idea to my sister, Catherine, and brother-in-law, Eric. It's a joint submission to the contest, really.

I am proud to reveal the family fun game to solve all your baby-naming woes. How can a child with a name like Liz or Hannah or Rose or Bess ever be truly unique?! How can you expect little Spencer or little Jordan to develop into an independently-thinking individual when others share his name?! The only chance for our children to be individuals is for them to have one-of-a-kind names. Duh.

The game is simple... it contains two multi-sided dice, much like the one below.

Rather than numbers, each face of the die is imprinted with a syllable, e.g. "brin," "bay," "car," "egg," "lee," "eff," "tay," "burp," "cat," "hat," "rat," "mat," "tin," "pin," etc. Simply shake the dice and combine the two syllables to create your new childs unique, one-of-a-kind name.

What's Your Name?

2009-01-17T18:50:00.000-08:00

Please click on the link to play. Best if listened to with headphones or decent speakers.

What's Your Name?

Tuesday Mourning: My Future Nom de Plume/Child?

2009-01-17T18:33:00.000-08:00

Challenge the Belated Third

2008-12-27T09:20:00.000-08:00

Ahem. Sorry this is a bit late...the whole moving to Salt Lake thing, the going to DC thing, and the Christmas thing sort of slowed me down. Nevertheless...here you go...

The root of this challenge lies in the spelling of my nieces friends' name: Tailyr (pronounced Taylor). Every time I see her name in print I feel the small Tailyr knot in my stomach seize and get a little bit bigger...why spell it that way? This, of course, leads me to my next name-themed question: why name the child that at all? in reference to such stories as this or this. Granted, many of these are proven to be urban legends, but that still leaves us with the weird naming trends common these days. My new landlords name is Bliss. Among mine and my sisters' acquaintance alone there are children named Brynleigh, Boston, Lero, Kamlee, Kyson, Kamlyn, Tamlyn, Sway, Krew, Dansko, Honey, Hazen, and Ela. I have a family of distant cousins whose names are Angel, Bliss, Cupid and Dolly. My sister went to high school with a girl whose first name started with the letter of the word "heaven" that corresponded to her place within her family's line up of six kids. I'm not sure if that made grammatic sense. But you get the idea.

And so, I hereby issue the third challenge. The parameters are the same as the first two, but in addition to picking the next challenge, the winner will be awarded an additional prize, the likes of which have never before been seen throughout all the history of Aed the Whelpe. You have until Saturday, 17 January, at 10 pm.

Happy Thanksgiving and the Berlin Wall Challenge the 2nd is Over

2008-11-27T18:17:00.001-08:00

The winner is Liz with 5 votes for her masterpiece collage "While the Rest Of Mankind Rejoiced".

Congratulations. I thought about deducting points because she posted her entry twice, but whatever, its cool.

We had a great Thanksgiving together with Ben, Rose's bro, and roasted a turkey in our toaster oven. It was cool and fun to do a Thanksgiving dinner without a real kitchen. (Toaster ovens and hot plates!) Yeah, we're awesome.

Anyways, Liz gets to choose the new challenge. I think everyone knows the rules, so tally-ho! We can open up participation if you want to a wider scale, but I'll leave that to Liz's discretion. See you in a couple weeks Liz.

-- Jordan

Thank you, Jordan

2008-11-12T12:35:00.000-08:00

for the lovely commentary.

Question: who can vote? Actually, more to the point, can Sophie vote? She votes for Liz's.

Die Familie Berliner-Mauer: eine Geschichte

2008-11-11T18:44:00.000-08:00

(This counts. Yes, it is a day late, but so was Spencer's last time and he ended up winning. So this does count.)

Berlin Wall Wedding

2008-11-11T08:27:00.000-08:00

This is my PoMo illustration of the story. I think I should've made this dress for our wedding. Also, I put this together last week but was too tired after work last night to post it. So, still on deadline. Below is a close up of the figure.

And PS. I loved the ones posted already. They made me laugh a lot.

True Love Will Find You in the End, ÆD...

2008-11-10T18:28:00.000-08:00

I'm obsessed with Photoshop.

I just accidentally published my post twice...

2008-11-10T13:58:00.001-08:00

I hope that improves my chances of winning.

While the rest of mankind rejoiced...

2008-11-10T13:55:00.000-08:00

While the rest of mankind rejoiced...

2008-11-10T13:52:00.000-08:00

There's Something about a Wall

2008-11-10T13:32:00.000-08:00

And the time of posting has come. I'll lead out with my sestina. It's repeating refrains are perfect for the marginally sane.

There's Something about a Wall

There is something about a wall.

It’s long and slim horizontal lines

Echo and repeat like a siren’s call.

Humpty dumpty had a great fall

But not even he, nor the kings and their kinds,

Knew that something about a wall.

Mortar and brick are far from all

that go into making the immortal signs

that echo and repeat like a siren’s call.

The Chinese built one, strong and tall,

But slave labor and grandiose designs

Don’t know anything about a wall.

Fences and halls? All falderal.

Where are the rhythm and tone that combines

To echo and repeat like a siren’s call.

From the cellar to the mall, in each load bearing wall,

There’s something that shines and kindly reminds

That there’s nothing quite like the Berlin wall

Which echoes and repeats like a siren’s call.

Challenge the Second

2008-10-25T11:47:00.000-07:00

Now the new challenge with its parameters, etc. Ever since I read this story I have been obsessed with writing about it. Imagining some of those quiet moments of her 29 year marriage. Now's my chance. And your chance too!

As far as the parameters go, I think the previous ones will do. We have two weeks to make something--anything--creative based on the news story. You've probably all heard it, but you can take anything--the title, the events, a phrase from the article, anyone who was or must have been connected, anything--to base your creative work on. Post the results by Nov 10--which gives you a couple extra days on two weeks in case you don't check blogs on weekends. And why would you?

Happy creating.

I'm really excited about this.

Congratulations!!

2008-10-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

To Spencer for winning the challenge.

As winner he gets to choose the next challenge, its parameters, etc.

Good luck and thanks to all the participants and voters.

Juicy Whip vs. Orange Bang: I Win Because this Is Awesome

2008-10-08T11:10:00.000-07:00

The Balled of Juicy Whip vs. Orange Bang

Come along, Aed's, and hear a fine tale
of a battle Royale in the Breakfastnook vale.
On a shady, cool morn, as the clock ticked near two
there was quiet and silence... then a hulaballoo!

Along came a figure so young and so sleek
he frightened the lonely, the comely and meek.
He strode up with a smile, a birdie he flipped,
and he said with a shout, "they call me The Whip!"

Juicy whip was his name, and whipping he did
on each dairy-supplied drink that showed up on the grid.
Anything whipped, or frappe-d, or mixed with some milk
knew Whip would whip their finely whipped ilk.

So each yogurt drink, soy drink, and cafe au lait,
hunched up their skorts and turned right away.
They ran off in fear, when they heard those dread words,
"they call me the whip" sent them off like some birds.

But in Breakfastnook vale left behind in the sprawl,
stood one with dairy, looming silent and tall.
Rough and weary at the end of his chain,
Stood a lone breakfast drink, the bread called, Orange Bang!

Now, he was no youngin' with time on his side
but wrinkled and worn, without any pride.
But seeing the fear on his breakfast food chums,
he rankled at Whip,and stuck to his guns.

"Now git along, Whip," he said with a wheeze.
"There're no dairy here now, neither milk nor some cheese.
But even if there were, just what is it to you?
Who cares what folks choose for their own breakfast brew?"

Now whip didn't like that, didn't like it one bit,
so with nary a word he hocked out some spit
That flew through the air with a ring and a rang
and landed smack dab, on the nose of ol' Bang.

Squinting and wiping, Bang said with a growl,
"Now, that's enough, Whip," then he let out a howl.
Bang drew out his guns, Whip whipped his out too,
and the noise and the smoke and the shouting sounds grew.

And after the shots, and the silence and smoke,
Standing there on the table, was only one bloke
who proved to this day that, whatever you do,
calling Bang, Bang, is only too true.

Juicy Whip v. Orange Bang: I Win Because Nobody Else Cares

2008-10-07T19:54:00.000-07:00

This is what I did for the little challenge. Whatever. Most likely no one will ever see it. I hope birds don't poop on your cars.

I don't think you'll like that one, it's based in the olden times. You like your Steven Seagals and your Chuck Norrises.

Yeah, I'know.

Well, what'll it be then?

That one.

I hereby issue a challenge... in accordance with the prophecy.

2008-09-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

So, I was sitting in my Patent law class which is actually halfway interesting and we were discussing a case called Juicy Whip v. Orange Bang. The idea was that people had a patent on this juice dispenser that made it look like you were getting juice from a display on the counter when really you were getting it from a concentrate and water mixed on demand under the counter. The infringer tried to argue the patent was invalid because it was immoral. They, of course, lost. Anyway...

The challenge, if you dare, is this:

1) Take the name of the case, Juicy Whip v. Orange Bang and turn it into something. Make anything. Could be a story or a picture or a song or movie or outfit or recipe or whatever. Just turn it into something rad.

2) Take a photo or whatever of your creation and post in on the blog.

3) After the due date, we can all vote on which thing is raddest and then the winner can choose the next challenge.

4) The due date is... Tuesday 7 Oct. 2008. That's 2 weeks from today, so don't procrastinate.

So, I know everyone is extremely important and busy, (or self-important and lazy) but if you're looking for a creative outlet, here's something to do! Now don't be pansies and put this off, but have fun and do it.

Our mileage/Gas consumption/Where we stopped for Gas

2008-09-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

This is an interesting list I'd like to share with all of you. Plus I'm tired of looking back at the Sydney Olympics.

That's a grand total of 2,935 miles. That's a long way. We got about 26.76 miles per gallon in a fully loaded car with two passengers, which isn't bad. We used more than 95 gallons of gas, but since I forgot to write down the fill up amount in Las Vegas and St. George, we'll never know exactly how much gas we used. I didn't keep track of how much we spent on gas because I didn't want to depress myself. Although I was glad that gas prices took a dive right before we left.

We're in our new apartment now, and will post pictures soon I hope. I've uploaded them from my camera to my external hard drive, which is the first step, so, yes.

Also if your ever in Mitchell, South Dakota there is an amazing place you need to stop and see. It's the World's Only Corn Palace. It is AMAZING. Be sure to check the web-cam to see what's going on there right now!

A look back at the Sydney Olympics...

2008-08-13T14:58:00.000-07:00

I was talking with Kate's brother in law who insisted that something like this had happened... and it had. It's pretty funny and kind of sweet for the swimmer from Equitorial Guinea--a place with no swimming pools--to be the only one in his heat to not be disqualified and go on to beat his countries record time in the 100M.

I will pronkfully pronikify pronk

2008-07-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

This made me laugh a lot. A whole lot.

Seriously

2008-07-09T13:19:00.000-07:00

So, the BYU alumni association contacted me today and sent me this:

Dear Spencer Lincoln Green '05,

Work has begun on your 2009 Brigham Young University Alumni Directory, an invaluable tool in this world where building and maintaining a strong personal network has become essential.

Right now, a friend could be trying to reach you with the job offer of a lifetime, or a former classmate might wish to drop you an e-mail. The friend you've been thinking about, but never quite had the time to locate, could be within reach if your contact information were up to date in our records. So please take one minute to complete your one page profile now by clicking here.

Invaluable? A friend's trying to get me a job? Long lost friend? I've decided that the BYU alumni association is made up entirely of flamboyant drama queens.

PS. Everyone watch "Rocket Science" right now.

Brent Brown

2008-06-19T13:15:00.000-07:00

So yesterday morning almost everyone in my neighborhood woke up to find flyers with this message printed on them left on their windshields. Naturally, I was outraged that such a travesty should occur in my own Orem and thought that I should notify you all so that we can all take action.

P.S. Brent Brown owns a large car dealership here, in case you didn't know...

And I quote:

Me and my family have been very terribly, wickedly and violently victimized by Brent Brown and now Brent Brown is unrighteously suing me for 150,000 dollars to conceal the truth about the violent crimes against me my wife and our child because I did tell the truth about him and his numerous felony crimes and his corruption. It was absolutely proven that Brent Brown did commit many felony crimes against me including submitting dozens of lies to the forth district court to conceal his crimes and explain away attempted murder. It was only after I did make complaints against Brent Brown for stalking and after I turned them in for fraud and then filed a complaint against them for tampering with the brakes on my car that they did hurry and run and tell lies and pretend they are being victimized so that nobody would believe the truth about the violent and numerous felony crimes they had committed.

These are the absolute facts so I pray to invoke the wrath of God on my head if I am not telling the exact truth. Brent Brown did commit or incite many violent felony crimes and did also incite others to commit many felony crimes against me my wife and our child including putting grease on the brakes of my car then going into court with a voice mail that said I had talked with Chrysler about the brake lock differential on my car locking up and they with the hlp of Chrysler corporation did attempt to explain away them putting grease on my brakes but in fact it was proven that the brakes did not malfunction and that grease was put on my brakes to cause a serious accident. Also proof of this as having the intention to possibly cause the death of a victim and even a child is that Brent Brown did fraudulently take information that was not relevant nor did it pertain and use it in a deceptive manner and tried to make it look as though I drive very fast so as to explain away that if I had gotten in a wreck and our child or someone else’s was killed they had already covered it with fraudulent information so as to cast doubt and conceal the truth of their involvement.

Brent Brown did refuse to take a polygraph or to allow any of his employees to take once concerning this. Brent Brown is guilty of attempted manslaughter of a victim and their child to conceal his many felony crimes and conceal his criminal business practices if he is not then why not take a polygraph concerning the lies he told in court the, attempted murder of a child to conceal felony crimes and the many counts of fraud including changing contracts adding fraudulent charges and defrauding people for repairs made even teenagers under the age of 18 by refusing to do warranty work then charging for repairs that should have been warranty and many many other frauds even so many I could never even write them but I must mention that Brent Brown did even rip off women who’s husbands had been at war fighting for our country as I just recently found out.

These are the absolute facts and unconditional truths there is no other truth so I testify in the name of God that Judge Mcdade did commit felony crimes on behalf of Brent Brown and did falsify court documents and did knowingly purposeless and intentionally commit perjury in the 4th district court to support Brent Brown in a corrupt and unrighteous manner because they could easily manipulate Judge Mcvey to support Brent Brown in a corrupt manner because Judge Mcvey (at the moment is kind of gay because he did let Satan manipulate him like a trashy woman) Judge Mcvey did also attend BYU and beyond that he was also military and they are using that knowledge to manipulate Judge Mcvey to unrighteously support Brent Brown and here is why. I am Mormon and I try to live a righteous life but because I did openly profess that I did study Islam and that I did understand that the concept of Islam is one of peace and not of war and that the belief of Islam is that it is unforgivable to oppress any man so as to withhold from him the way to live righteously and I did compare that the crimes and lets be honest about those crimes which are being committed by these Judges. They are exceedingly corrupt and felonious crimes that are only of the devil and these men are so weak that they serve Satan as one of Satans women such as Pam Hitt who is one of the biggest liars on earth and did commit felony perjury on behalf of Brent Brown also. I did testify honestly that this kind of corruption was responsible for sept 11th and it was. So now they try to turn an ex military Judge against me but I only fear God and God said if they sue you and take away your coat offer them your cloak also.

For all you Sexy Things

2008-04-24T15:13:00.000-07:00

You might not want to watch this for too long... but you might want to watch it.

With the oncoming spring time, I find myself yet again regretting not purchasing that linen suit at Primark. This title is

2008-04-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

a reference to an older blog found here.

I love the changing of the seasons, but perhaps the change from winter to spring is the most exciting of all. There are so many new things to see and new life to celebrate. DC is turning green, the cherry blossoms have come out, and it is once again pleasurable to sit in the sunshine and read. Right now I'm reading Far From the Madding Crowd the last of my Thomas Hardy novels I'll read for a while. So far I like it very much, not as much as Jude or Tess, but I think more than Return of the Native and maybe about as much as the Mayor of Casterbridge. Summer time also means more reading time.

If only I could do that reading on a Sunday afternoon under a large umbrella, sipping lemonade, wearing a linen suit. Even seersucker would do.

Aed, we may have to jam in the near future - in a mountain meadow perhaps... and later on, barbecue.

I still think this is a low estimate

2008-04-02T17:09:00.001-07:00

Now we can

2008-04-02T15:21:00.000-07:00

finally know. Or at least finally guesstimate with the aid of an online quiz made by someone. So, answer honestly and find out how many 5-year-olds you could take in a basketball court sized space.

Here are the rules of the fight they came up with:

This short survey will tell you approximately how many five year old children you could fight at once. Results are based on physical prowess, training, swarm-combatting experience, and the flexibility of your moral compass. Here are the ground rules:

* You are in an enclosed area roughly the size of a basketball court
* There are no weapons or foreign objects
* Everyone is wearing a cup (so no kicks to the groin)
* The children are merciless and will show no fear
* If a child is knocked unconscious, he is "out." The same goes for you.

A New and Exciting Milestone Approaches

2008-04-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

Because I was bored and messing with some financial things wondering how much I spent per day etc, I found a new milestone. As of today, April 1, 2008, I have lived 9,535 days. This means that on Friday, July 10, 2009, I will have lived for 10,000 days. I think that there should be, no, there needs to be some kind of celebration on that day. Liz, you can celebrate too as you'll hit the 10,000 day mark on the 7th I think.

Anyway, we ought to do something. I don't know where people will be, but maybe I will wait to watch the movie 10,000BC on the day I turn 10,000 days old. I'm not really sure that would even be a good way to celebrate.

If you're interested, here is where I went to calculate it out. Pretty sweet.

Bored? Looking for something to do?

2008-03-24T08:45:00.000-07:00

This isn't the most creative way I could go about doing this, but if you're looking for a way to kill some time

click here

I won't title this one

2008-03-17T11:08:00.000-07:00

awesome, just awesome cause I don't think my last "awesome" post was widely considered so, but I will say that I think this is pretty damn enjoyable.

And while we're talking about Aed

2008-03-11T09:31:00.001-07:00

I think I'll add this to the conversation.

Here's to Lizard Knight, Pencil Greens, and Jordi La Forde.

Love,
Bee Hives

We're not the only ones

2008-03-11T09:14:00.000-07:00

to have started a band based on merits of fun rather than talent. I speak of course of the Really Terrible Orchestra. I think I should add my six months of cello lessons to Aed's skill set.

Awesome

2008-03-04T09:34:00.000-08:00

Just awesome.

This morning

2008-02-26T08:31:00.000-08:00

This was what was on my car this morning. Cool, huh?

A Disaster Averted, a Nation Calmed

2008-02-25T11:04:00.001-08:00

This -

got stuck in my ear while I was pulling my headphones out of my skull. Quite dangerous if you ask me.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do, so I just left it in there for a while. Then I managed to get it out carefully with a mechanical pencil. Not the most sterile instrument around, but in situations like these, you've got to use what's handy. Like MacGyver.

Some Salve for our Lawyer friend

2008-02-09T17:31:00.000-08:00

My favorite cousin showed me these guys, and this clip made me think that it could show a budding lawyer something he wouldn't learn in torts. Oh, and the last 20 seconds aren't all that awesome.

I'm so angry I could spit and curse...

2008-02-07T17:47:00.001-08:00

There is no point in explaining why because it is boring and will only make me want to hock a loogey before I spit and add the ending "-ity" to all my curse words. That's an intensifier I made up. F- f- f-ity f-. It's sorta funny, but maybe not really.

Yeah, so I'm glad the VMOLAKSJGHPAOWIFJANLCKXPAANOABCDEFGHEIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ is planning a sweet party. I can't wait. No serious, I really can't.

Tomorrow I only have one class, so I'm going on vacation. Probably to the portrait gallery or the archives. Or maybe I'll just go home and play Mario soccer. Whatever. Booyah. I just wanted to say that. Booyah! Nobody says that anymore and it's a shame. Booyah-ity. That didn't work.

Pet Peeves

2008-01-28T14:20:00.001-08:00

Saw this on McSweeney's and I thought it was pretty funny. I wish I could make a funny list of my pet peeves. Maybe I'll do that instead of doing my homework.

MY PET PEEVES.

BY DAN LIEBERT

- - - -

Women who breastfeed in public but then make a big show of hiding it as if I care.

Total strangers telling me what to do, especially square-dance callers.

Those pretentious phonies who say "pasta" instead of paste or "Boca Raton" instead of rat's mouth.

Itchy labels on bungee ankle straps so I itch the whole way down.

When my opera cape gets caught on homeless people's junk.

Waiters who recite the specials in a bored singsong voice as if they don't really care what I eat.

Bad art in motel rooms, especially bad performance art.

When a woman stands near me and people think her ugly baby is mine and it is.

Dentists who cram my mouth full and don't even ask me one question, though I've been practicing all year.

Big, conceited bodies of water, especially Lake Superior.

The depressing attractions at the Svenskfilmindustrie theme park, near Stockholm. (Actually, I may have dreamt this.)

When a can of cheap peas says "Pea Color and Size May Vary" and inside there's just one giant blue pea.

Halloween decorations in a hospice.

Distant calliope music at night tempting me to forget my duties and run off with the circus and to hell with her orgasm!

A "nature burger" with fake grill marks painted on it.

People who know way too much about the Merovingians or cheese.

Prank phone calls like the guy who called me selling light bulbs for the blind. Ha-ha. Very funny. You are sick, mister.

Barbecue restaurants with happy pigs on the sign.

Those foreign guys on the subway who pretend to read newspapers written in gibberish.

People on fire—they're always asking for favors, even if they hardly know you.

The way road signs talk to you in that stern, fatherly voice.

I never seem to meet those cheerful, uncomplicated women you see on tractor-trailer mud flaps.

When a lecturer takes a drink of water and doesn't offer us any.

I've been all over the world and have lived among every kind of culture and I can say, without any hesitation, that the most ignorant, rude, selfish, and self-centered people on earth are babies.

The Ultimate Role Play

2008-01-16T09:55:00.000-08:00

Sir Toby Bliss, inebriate and lurcher, joins the wuthering, wuthering, wuthering throng

Sir Bliss Phurphington Cornelius de la Ruineur

Harpinceronee Gwendolyn Cavendish-Coppersbottom and
Theodosia Chandeloria Jaguar-Muesli-Bouffet

Lady Chrysanthemum Dijonnaise Edimame de la Plume and
Theodosia Chandeloria Jaguar-Muesli-Bouffet

A very sloshed Lady Elaine Fairchild

Lady Manny of Cheddar

two finely dressed ladies of unknown name

Sir Tertius Souvanblanc Minon and his lovely wife
Lady Chrysanthemum Dijonnaise Edimame de la Plume

Rose...of the Plumbers Love

Why we love Britain

2008-01-10T16:14:00.000-08:00

Is not exemplified in this clip, but I thought you guys might enjoy it in a "holy hell! That can't be real" kind of way. You know the type.

The Yearly Dilemma

2008-01-07T09:37:00.001-08:00

I don’t make goals. I don’t know what I would work for, and the danger that I would fail to meet them is too great. If you don’t try, you don’t fail. Better to have not loved at all than to have loved and lost, right? I am much too impatient to have long-term goals. Long term means that they stay unmet for a long time, which means that I get discouraged or bored or forgetful and give up.

So where does this leave me? I have made a mockery of New Years Resolutions for seven years now; as long as they rhyme then I repeat them regularly for a year, but without any sense of duty or even interest in upholding them.
Brand New 2002: a brand new year with a fresh start…what the crap does that mean?
Date-Free 2003: required literally no effort, just my usual anti-social behavior.
Date More 2004: one date was definitely more than none.
It’s My Life 2005: so back the #@%&* off and let me make my own decisions…again, that attitude didn’t require a noticeable change in me.
Visit Six 2006: yes, I rhymed six with six…the idea was to spend at least one week in six different countries. I had all of this travel planned and booked before the new year even started, so I can’t really call this a goal. And one trip fell through and I had to count the U.S. as one.
Get to Heaven 2007: the old “become a better person” cop out…failed obviously. The result of a rhyming shortage. Narrowly beat out “Eat bread with leaven 2007”.

And now I am faced with the dawn of yet another year and the quest for the perfect rhyme. Given past “goals” and recent conversations with friends, I briefly considered “Go on a date 2008” but that seemed a little ambitious. No need to get carried away in the euphoria of New Years festivities. Just kidding, there were no festivities. I’d spent all day on 31 December lifting heavy and bulky things in and out of trucks and maneuvering them up stairs, around corners, and down narrow hallways, then trying to talk my mother out of over-furnishing every room in her new house. Rather than being Rose’s date to a party that night, I went to bed early.

Sometimes I’m forced to admit that there may be something to this “paying attention to the counsel of Church leaders” thing. I seem to be regularly assaulted by “set goals and work toward them” lectures these days, so the other day I found myself contemplating what I expect and hope for 2008. There I was, skiing through some forested area at Bryce Canyon National Park. We’d set out on a groomed loop, but strayed off through the trees for a little while. It was getting dark and I was completely turned around. I have a lousy sense of direction. I think you all know this. Jordan and I wandered around Oxford for ages looking for a place that we’d walked past long before. And I would have been lost on the London Underground without Bess. (To preserve some dignity, the vain part of me wants to point out that sometimes my sense of direction is very good…just not lately) How embarrassing to spend so much time outdoors, and to have traveled to so many new places and still get turned around so easily! I’ve got to do something about this. In a flash, it came to me…NAVIGATE 2008! I will improve my sense of direction! I’m not sure how…maybe I will carry around a compass. Maybe I just need to spend more time outside; I’m sure that would help. Maybe whenever I go anywhere with any of you guys, you can practice abandoning me in various locations and forcing me to find my way back on my own. That sounds like so much fun.

This is not the real sequence of events and thoughts. I was enjoying the silence and the beautiful landscape; the contrast of the white snow on the red rocks. I was thinking about the last time I had been to Bryce, and things that had happened since. I was frustrated by the feeling that I’ve just been coasting for the past few years. I was physically sick at the thought of repeating statistics. I was tired of a lot of things in my life. But I was also excited about a lot of things. Then I realized that I didn’t know where we were or how to get back to the car and I was in the front of our little line. So, in my usual half-assed but grandiose manner, I arrived at Navigate 2008.

This is the year, guys. I will navigate my life literally and figuratively. This is the year I will really figure out what I’m doing. This is when I will take responsibility for my own life and make important decisions and lots of money. This is the year I will figure out exactly what I want to do in my future and take several significant steps toward it. By the end of 2008, I will be a happy, healthy, graduated, well-adjusted, driven, in-control, smoothly functioning, socially skilled, gainfully employed, attuned to direction, independently wealthy wonder and marvel. Absofrickinlutely.

Six Months Later...

2007-12-17T11:58:00.000-08:00

Oh my, I just got rocked by my civil procedure final and now think moving to a ranch in Northern Colorado/ Southern Wyoming like the meadow in James

2007-12-11T14:16:00.000-08:00

Galvin's "The Meadow" and becoming a hermit would be a good idea in order to avoid the society that created a need to draft and implement something like civil procedure. I swear, it's like lawyers playing Dungeon and Dragons.

Oh! You could file a counter claim against the third-party defendant except for that you're the plaintiff and you can't file the claim because 28 USC 1367(b) prevents you from filing a claim against parties added under Rule 14 because it would destroy diversity under 28 USC 1332 rendering moot the court's subject matter jurisdiction and violating the federal rules of civil procedure.

Oh! You can't cast a fire mage destruction spell until you reach level 12 and obtain the ruby crystals from the Fire Giant in the Ice temple in the land of Hydrangea which you can't get to unless you have rubic's armor which you can't equip unless your party has a level 10 paladin or level 12 barbarian.

I guess rules are necessary to have a functioning society and so that everyone can play nice. I like knowing the rules and they are useful, but being tested on them isn't that great. Actually, being tested on them isn't even that bad. It's the grade that I abhor. If I could take the test, find out what I did wrong, then redo it and know that I know the stuff, then the test would be great.

Like O-Chem. I don't remember much, but I bet if I'd have gone over that stupid American Chemical Society standardized final and saw everything I did wrong and why, I would remember something about o-Chem and that would be really great, or at least it would make me feel smarter. Instead I feel stupid b/c I got a D+. So now I got a crap grade and I don't remember anything about it. That double sucks.

Sinking into an absolute useless paralysis

2007-12-08T18:16:00.000-08:00

As I am currently incapable of doing anything useful (and as I accidently started syncing iMail with my gmail account yesterday, which action caused me to find anew this lovely video amidst the mess what is my email history) I thought I'd share the joys with you. You have probably seen it before. It was rather popular last year--though that may perhaps be blamed on my isolated perceptions from German classes.

TORTS FINAL

2007-12-05T08:16:00.002-08:00

This is me about to knife-edge annihilate my torts final.

I'll show you assault & battery

What did you want when you were 14?

2007-11-27T21:28:00.000-08:00

Yesterday in class, John gave us this rush-write prompt and asked us to email him our response so that he could get to know what a 14 year old girl is like, what she wants. This has something to do with a book he is writing. I wrote him my response tonight. It was rather humorous to me, so I thought I'd share. I want you to respond with what you wanted when you were 14. I bet you were not as neurotic as me. I hope you enjoy.

When I was 14 I wanted to be the daughter of Dana Scully and Fox Mulder on The X-Files. I'm serious. I was obsessed with the show. I stayed up until 2 a.m. every Saturday night so that I could record it on TV. I have a cupboard in my home bedroom brimming with VHS tapes full of episodes. I wanted to play their child in a movie. For some reason I didn't see it as a regular fixture of the show. Probably because they weren't yet together, and I thought of it as some sort of this-is-what-the-future-will-be sequel to their first movie ("Fight the Future"). I stood one day in my dad's bathroom (called so because none of the kids nor my mom ever seemed to utilize it regularly--maybe because it was very, very small) and clenched my jaws while looking in the mirror. I figured my red hair was what I "got" from Agent Scully. My nose was too big to come from her, so it became appropriately big in my eyes to be from Agent Mulder. When I clenched my jaw hard enough my muscles bulged out my cheeks and I believed I became quite similar to Mulder. But this made my teeth sore. I decided I would have to have short periods of filming everyday, so my jaw didn't get too sore. Last night I did this again for the first time in years.

I have mirror faces--faces that I make whenever I look in the mirror, or see myself in a window, or my reflection on shiny surfaces. I change the angle of my head, I hold up my tongue so my chin doesn't sag, I unclench my often cringing eye muscles. I do this out of habit and unconsciously. I don't think I knew I did it until I noticed my sisters do it. My sister Lucy pulls in her cheeks and slightly pouts her lips. She always was a meticulous reader of the J. Crew catalogue when she was 14. My sister Rosi's face goes coldly blank. Her forehead tightens, her eyebrows raise, and her lips slacken. She never looks like this if not looking at herself in the mirrow. When I was 14 my mirror face was to bite as hard as I could so that my jaw muscles would swell. And I practiced moving my eye brows individually. Dana Scully could do this exceedingly well. She had a face she would make when about to cry--the left eyebrow went up and the right dived nose-ward as the right side of her mouth arched up, almost as if trying to meet it. When she was acting skeptical, her left eyebrow would raise, but her mouth would winch up tight, her chin down. I watched her in the early black hours of Sunday mornings and memorized her faces. I mimicked them on my own in front of my dad's mirror. Only my eyebrows never got very good at moving on their own. So I never really ran out of things to practice, I guess.

For a few years I even became obsessed with fingers and fingernails, convinced that mine were sorry specimens. I was conflictingly envious of Dana Scully's perfect manicures, and yet horrified at having anything but closed trimmed nails. My thumbs were always shamefully wide. I met people at church and looked immediately to their hands. When I watched TV or movies I eagerly waited until their hands were shown and I could compare mine with theirs. I delighted when I deemed others' inferior to my own because it happened so rarely and because I saw it as some indication of overall worth. Toes and toenails were another problem that I eventually solved with socks.

I think I was very jealous and paranoid. I wanted praise and attention from parents and older people. I wanted boys to notice me. But I'd dropped out of Jr. high after Spanish class, so it wasn't going to happen there. My only interaction with boys my age came at church. But I was too embarrassed and awkward and socially incompetent to make friends with them. I think I created a pathological sense of the importance of obscure body parts--thumb nails, eyebrow raises, even red hair--and obsessed over them, comparing mine with others. To some extent on some level I valued people based on these characteristics. I based my acceptance and liking of them on it to some degree. I am fairly certain those who scored high in good features fared pretty poorly in my esteem, because I saw them as competing and winning in getting in others' good favor. I am stinking relieved to say I am not obsessed about fingernails anymore. And I don't hate everyone who I think is prettier or smarter or more interesting than me. But I still have some serious neuroses when it comes to red hair and the name Bess. I prickle when I meet other red-heads. I get pretty near out-right livid when I even hear of other Besses in the world. Both of these are mine. I claim them.

I think that being 14 had to do with a lot of unwitting Intro to Craziness 101 stuff. Unfortunately I didn't know this until I was thrown into Crazy 230: Your First Complete and Total Meltdown during my first year at BYU. Oh, the joys.

P.S. Six months ago today: walking to church in the pouring rain, Bess wearing Liz's thermals because her skirt was soaking and therefore see-through, dancing and making dinner in the kitchen, Jordan burning rice, John Bennion playing with umbrella in kitchen while others dance, and Jordan playing a most memorable medley of How Great Thou Art and Turn Turn Turn on the guitar.

I'm adopting habits from Kate. Unfortunately only the ones that waste time and not those associated with actually doing homework or writing WIDs..

2007-11-26T20:50:00.000-08:00

Yes. I, too, am now keeping track of "six months ago today." Sophie's about to rip out my gullet (I wish I quite knew what that meant) because I am keeping her so well informed.

So, ahem...

Six months ago today we were in Dorchester. We met Nigel Thimbleby, toured his stately home, viewed or did not view an artful or unartful performance of reality or simulation to the fullest or partial extent of its infinity or conciseness, we visited the highly secure Dorchester Library's bathroom, Bess left her journal there, we crossed the walkway of hope and wonder to get to the right side of the station tracks, we rode the train back to Weymouth, and began making collages.

serenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynowserenitynow

2007-11-26T08:17:00.000-08:00

My parents are moving to American Fork. They bought a house over the weekend and are moving next month. My mom had a flyer with photos of this house, and the tagline "SERENITY FOR SALE!" I thought it was a joke. I thought she had kept the flyer and was showing it to all our relatives at Thanksgiving because the advertising strategy was so hilarious (she found another house a few weeks ago that was advertised with the tagline "Buy this house and all your wildest dreams will come true!"). I only found out that they were serious after their offer had been accepted. They have purchased serenity. This move is now wrecking havoc in our familial relationships, and I find myself wandering around our house mumbling--and on occasions bellowing--"SERENITY NOW!"

To contrast with all the Cowboy-ness

2007-11-19T13:40:00.000-08:00

So, maybe I'm just way behind the times, or maybe you guys too haven't heard the awesomeness that is askaninja.com. Check this out. And then this. And can I resist saying "this"? No. As always. Enjoy.

I should have listened to Jim and Kim more in England

2007-11-08T16:09:00.000-08:00

What is the relationship between emo and hipster?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6Dmg_4ZA2Y&NR=1

Often I think to myself that I should have bought that linen suit they had at Primark not only because it's a classic summer look, but because then I

2007-11-02T21:25:00.000-07:00

could be like Matlock. At least, in the sense that we'd both have linen suits. However, I still doubt that I'd actually wear it on any sort of regular basis. I could try to get one on eBay, but then I still don't have the advantage that I had at Primark of trying it on and seeing how it fit.
It also appears to be some sort of mystic key that unlocks the power of the moustache. Was Mark Twain's powerful facial hair due to his partiality to the linen suit? I don't see how this could be otherwise. My apparent lack of facial hair must be inextricably bound to my lack of a linen suit. This guy knew what was up.

Scary enough for Halloween

2007-10-31T16:42:00.000-07:00

Today while reading this I found this wherein I found the following statistics:

Teen pregnancy rates decreased 29 percent for blacks and whites in the 1990s, compared to just 19 percent for Latinas, according to one group's research

Teen Pregnancy is dropping clear across the board--sometimes faster, sometimes slower. How do we fight this frightening trend? Not only the trend, but the insistent and wrong-headed view that it's somehow a good thing for the nation! When will the national dialogue deal with the complexity of teen pregnancies instead of treating any and all knocking-up of teens as one and the same thing?!

Happy Halloween: I fear I may be breaking the new catching trend in long names, but am quite certain I can't think of anything worth titling.

2007-10-31T00:32:00.000-07:00

That's pretending that "titling" means to make a title of.

I am so happy it is Halloween. I love it. Though Spencer may think it trite, I think the date deserving of a little Edward Gorey tribute. After all, he is No. 1 on my list of cross-generational lovers.

He was pretty much obsessed with Dracula. (And the New York City Ballet and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I'm trying to be particular.)

Have a Happy Halloween.

So, to avoid studying I went on a crazy internet journey which is always fun. I went from a guitar parts website to a surf band in LA of guys in their

2007-10-30T08:44:00.000-07:00

50's who only play double neck guitars to this other guy's website who does things like this:

and this:

and one more so there are 3 and harmony:

I find them all delightfully disturbing.

Happy Halloween! I'm sad I won't be at the party.

http://www.JimWoodring.com

In the Spirit of really, really long titles and doing things other than that which is vital to my progress in this mortal life, I submit to you the fr

2007-10-23T17:13:00.000-07:00

uits of a very special search I did in preparation for next year's "Snakes on a Plane" blog-buster, "Elephant Riding Space Cowboys." Yep. It's just what it sounds like. Here are some possible scenes from this futuristic romp back to the days of the Wild West like you've never seen it before!!

So... start spreading the word on that blog-o-sphere, dudes.

Our hero, JR, as a baby.

I really should be doing homework as it is already a day late and I have a conference with the dean's fellow in less than an hour, for which I have...

2007-10-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

prepared nothing. The title thing wouldn't let me put the full title on there. That sucks. Here's another Chindogu invention I think could be useful.

So I read some things on the group page that I'm curious about. Was Joni embarrased by something Spencer did? What was it? What is this romance story Hillary and Kim are writing about Claire and Spencer? What's the capital of Algeria?

Anyway, things here are okay. I've been very unmotivated the last couple of days which isn't that good. I've decided I'm no longer reading for Torts this week which was a liberating experience, though that could prove a bad decision in the end (I don't think it will).

Also, I've eaten about 5 BLT's in the last few days and they've been really good. Wheat bread with a thin spread of mayo, brown sugar bacon, a thick slice of tomato and a few leaves of green lettuce, not iceburg, but the real kind. It's quite a tasty little sandwich. Other foods named after famous people: Beef Wellington, Peach Melba (and Melba Toast), Fetuccine Alfredo, Cobb Salad, Beef Stroganoff.

On an enitirely different note, I'm tired of meeting new people and having nothing to talk about. I've decided small talk is stupid and I don't want to do it anymore. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do, but I welcome any suggestions. I've thought about not talking to anyone, but that path only leads to loneliness and ending up like this guy - which I don't want.

Chindogu

2007-10-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, I guess it's finally time to share my love of all things Japanese. While reading an article about how Japanese fashion designers are creating portable vending machine suits and purses that transform to look like manhole covers--also an interesting article, check it out here--I found this craze called Chindogu which you might enjoy reading about. Don't miss how Chindogu means "Weird Tool" and not "Penis Tool," nor the equally entertaining "Tenets of Chindogu" and the different Chindogu they have on display. Is it not neat-o? Check it out here.

Simpsonized!!!

2007-10-15T16:30:00.000-07:00

Simpsonize Me

2007-10-15T09:07:00.000-07:00

Yes that's right. You can finally find out what you'd look like in the Simpson's Universe. All you have to do is submit the right pic and voila! You're a Simpsons character. Here's me...

http://simpsonizeme.com/

For to photo

2007-10-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

Liz and I have talked. We want more photos on this blog. So, to start off what I hope becomes a very common indulgence by all parties with in-computer cameras or enough resolve to put pictures from cameras onto computers, I give you myself.

Part 1. Bess at home on cold and windy night without heater.

Part 2. Bess a la Renaissance

I look forward to your offerings, whether they be of the self or others.

Love,
Bess

Victory!

2007-10-09T10:59:00.000-07:00

So, I work with several different employees from the PE department, known only as "PE Person" because of their bristling personalities. I think that they have all been taught in staff meetings to be cold and unapproachable and to reject all offers of friendship. So I sit here, day after day, in complete silence with one of them for hours at a time. The silence is only broken when the boyfriend of one of them comes in and they go into the back area and make out among the hanging sleeping bags and I hear them giggling. Some days I get here before PE Person and log onto the computer, turn on music, etc. On those days, PE Person comes in and looms over me for a few minutes without a word, trying to figure out what to do with herself if she can't surf the internet. If I ever get up to go to the bathroom or to do some work, within five seconds PE Person is in my seat and moving my stuff out of the way without a word. I tell her at times that she can turn the music down if it's disturbing her studying and she says "No, that's okay." But when I leave the room and come back, the music is invariably turned off.
Today I'd had enough. I got here first, logged in, turned on music, and sat...just waiting. When PE Person got here she loomed and then flounced to the other chair, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes she got bored enough that she actually spoke to me and asked how long I would need the computer for. I told her that it would be a while, that I was working on my statistics homework and needed the internet. This apparently stumped the poor little passive-aggressive soul (not that I can really criticize anyone for that at this point) and she left to go to the computer lab. To capitalize on the moment, the computer labs closed shortly thereafter for devotional. She had to come back and sit and stare into space for the next hour before heading back to the lab. I can't help but feel very proud.
I really probably ought to add that much of my animosity comes from the fact that various PE Persons have been in charge of this room and equipment for the past few years and none of them seem to have done anything. The room was disgusting, the equipment was dirty and damaged, and I spent my first few weeks just cleaning while PE Person sat and surfed the interweb. On one of the rare occasions when one of them spoke to me, she said "I'm so glad you're cleaning. It's so gross in here, I haven't been able to bring myself to touch anything." So they sit and do nothing, and get paid more than I get paid. Even the smallest forms of revenge are sweet. As Rachel said "Take the bitch down!"

Baby's New Tooth

2007-10-02T12:30:00.001-07:00

My mom says I can't play with airsoft guns anymore. Guess which front tooth is partially fake, after being shot out of my mouth by an airsoft-wielding, tooth-destroying, non-weenie, semi-crazed England and Literature 2007 student.

Those Damn Flutes: an Anniversary Tribute

2007-09-27T20:31:00.000-07:00

Today is the 5 month anniversary of the start of the program. I had the opportunity to rip about a month off a Gary Larson's Farside daily calendar this morning. I found something I think paralled much reaction to Aed the Whelpe in England.

Febtober

2007-09-20T15:46:00.000-07:00

Today Sophie got a dog. He is a year old, mostly black with brindle and white, and an English Bull Terrier. He is much larger than I thought he would be. I think I shall become very fond of him. His previous owners were bikers--Harleys. They moved to San Francisco and could not afford an apartment that allowed dogs. And this one would be hard to hide. His name is Doc Holiday.

Sophie has decided to rename him, and I agree. She likes the name Toby. He doesn't know that Toby is his new name, however, so to get his attention one must call out "Doc Toby." This was further corrupted by Sophie into "Doctober." I have since submitted my request that his name officially be "Febtober," but have little doubt that whether she accepts the proposal or not I shall call him whatever I want.

Please come meet little Febtober anytime. He seems to like people and new things.

Spare me my life!!

2007-09-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

Often, I find myself looking for meaningless, mindless entertainment. It's not that I don't enjoy entertainment with actual substance, it's just that sometimes escaping is exactly what I want. No, it's more than a want, it's a need.

Since they haven't invented the holodeck (from Star Trek TNG) yet, I have to resort to watching YouTube or episodes of Conan the Adventurer which I highly recommend because he is "the most powerful warrior ever!"

Anyway, I came across this amazing example of such entertainment the other day. Here is why I love it:
1 - the music
2- the dancing
3- the backwards bandana
4 - Spare me my life!

Enjoy! Japanese English/Self Defense Training Video

-Jordan

Aed, Truly

2007-09-14T19:18:00.000-07:00

Over the summer I learned that I was a descentant (along with probably half the US) of the Scottish kings Aed and Somebody the Whelpe, whose combined names we have to thank for ours. This pleased me as I saw it as some kind of divine guidance and sanction. Well, today it just got better. May I present my findings...

Hayes: This is the anglicised version of the Gaelic Ó háodha, meaning "Descendant of Aodh," a personal name meaning "fire."

Aodh: From the old Irish name Áed, which meant "fire."

I am then Bess "Descendant of Aed." This can't be improved upon, I'm sure.

Who does this remind everyone of?

2007-09-13T17:30:00.000-07:00

The answer may be more complicated and far-reaching/wide-ranging than it appears at first. But I think we can all agree that this is the best thing that makes everyone's day... all the time.

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/30990