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Paying Attention to the World Again

I'm back from Orlando. What a great set of days that turned out to be. Other than a little snafu at the rental car counter, it was almost perfect.

I'm blowing out the mini-blog with 20 fresh links tonight. When you are on vacation, it seems to you like the rest of the world has come to a stop. But it hasn't. Here's some of the stuff I missed:

People in New York are paying $30 a pop to attend cuddling sessions with strangers in pajamas. I would never admit to being that lonely.

If you see the pictures, you wouldn't think she's a MILF. But her 18-year-old son did. He suffered a panic attack and "when she gave him a cuddle and comforted him, one thing led to another." Screeeeeech! One thing does not just lead to that. Not ever.

Almost as unfortunate is the story of a man who got his bolt stuck in a nut during a kinky sex game. I'll stick to poker, thank you.

The mayor of Glendale, California ripped the city of Glendale, Arizona. "That little, podunk Glendale, Arizona, everybody knows. It's a little small town, it's mostly agriculture, and everybody knows it." Everybody, that is, except the selection committees who awarded it the 2008 Super Bowl and the 2006 NHL All-Star Game.

If getting busted for smoking crack is inevitable, I guess you might as well smoke it down.

His defense lawyer, while cross-examining the cops who saw him smoke that crack pipe while his car sank into a pond, might break out with this new-fangled tactic: "Admit it, sir, that you were in a good mood when you observed my client's car sinking into that pond." Um, okay, I admit it it. Now comes the expert, to testify that memory is more reliable when the observer is pissed off.

You know those skaters who look like they are about to crack their skulls and die? They sometimes do precisely that.

The Farmer's Almanac may be predicting a mild winter, but hurricane season isn't very mild so far. Just two weeks removed from Charley, Central Florida might be about to get slammed by Frances. It looks like we got in and out at precisely the right time.

Cow Tipping

I went cow tipping once while I was in high school. I tipped no cows. In fact, I didn't get close to any cows. But I did learn three important things.

1. Cows that are standing up are not asleep. Ever. They lay down like dogs when they sleep.

2. Cows that are awake will run extremely fast if you approach them with a couple of buddies. Oh, they may look slow and lazy, but it will take them about 30 seconds to dash up a steep hill that takes you and your friends 20 minutes to climb.

3. Guys who claim to have tipped a cow are full of crap.

But don't take my word for it.

A Brief Biotchfest

My vacation begins tomorrow. I'm going to avoid negative thoughts for several whole days. Before doing that, I have a couple of things I need to get off my chest.

Personally: My car is infuriating me. They say you get what you pay for. They lie. My little Ford Ranger cost about $10,000 brand new. It's been in the shop once - because I snapped the tailgate handle off. It was a cheap repair. My BMW 540 cost about $55,000 new. It's been in the repair shop about 6-10 times per year. Most recently: for a blown fuse that froze the ignition and caused the "transmission failure" light to go on. The part costs four bucks, but the diagnostic tests were $110, and the time to diagnose was more than 24 hours.

Professionally: If you aren't a lawyer, this will not interest you, but I have a greedy little client who is driving me nuts. We won his trial last year, securing a judgment which, before attorney's fees, was about ten times what he was willing to settle for before trial. Even after trial, he was willing to settle for about half of that amount. We recommended that he stay the course. It was the right advice. The court awarded all of our costs, plus almost double the underlying judgment amount in attorney's fees (we put a lot of time and effort into the trial). We have a fee agreement that provides for a percentage, but also provides that if we recover a large fee award, that we will accept the fees awarded by the court and paid by the defendant, and the client keeps 100% of the underlying judgment. That sounds like a win-win, right? Not for this guy. He has tried at least five times to get us to reconsider our greedy position and share the attorney's fees with him. We refused. Now he wants to keep the award for costs, and not pay us back. He thinks that is fair. The defendant is paying him the full value of his entire claim, and he will pay no costs or fees out of pocket to get there. And that's not good enough. It's enough to make you wonder if clienticide is a word.

Publicly: This news story has sent me off to the dusty CD racks. That's me in the corner...that's me in the spotlight... losing my religion. An 8-year-old girl who suffers from a rare digestive disorder and cannot eat wheat has had her first Holy Communion declared invalid because the wafer contained no wheat, violating Roman Catholic doctrine. I hold it to be self-evident that if God made her that way, God would not have a problem letting her have Holy Communion with a rice wafer. The Bible doesn't say that wheat is required. Jesus didn't say wheat was required. In fact, I'm pretty confident that Jesus would be okay with this little girl's First Communion. The fact that my church thinks that her God-given lot in life makes her ineligible for communion causes me to doubt whether my church has any clue about the true path to God. Am I right? I wonder what Bainbridge thinks of this story.

There. I've said it. Now I can vacate.

A Snapshot of This Week's Photojournalism

Here's a list of links to current news photos. The links will be dead soon. If you find this page using Google in October 2005, don't email me bitching about how the links are dead.

This picture looks like a competition for casting in that new Gilligan's Island reality show, but actually, it's a bunch of boats washed onto an island by hurricane Charley. At least the island is still all there.

You think your beach is crowded? Check out the beach in Korea.

You wanna know how to clear that beach out? Send this hairy Chinese dude into the water. I'd get out.

You can pretty much see this girl's boobs. Who does she think she is, John Kerry's daughter?

Eunice Kennedy Shriver is still alive. Scary and dead looking, but alive.

How would you like your prom date to see this baby picture?

Golden Palace strikes again. Thank God Al Qaeda hasn't hired those guys, huh?

Olympic beach volleyball should be played in the nude. I mean, they're practically naked already. Nobody is paying attention to the play. The bodies are too distracting. Plus, they touch each other. Not that I blame them. They should wait until they get home to kiss, though. It makes the rest of the stadium feel left out.

Not wanting to feel left out, the tennis players are wearing pretty skimpy attire, too.

Do straight guys compete at synchronized diving? I doubt it.

This fellow probably knows for sure, though.

After watching this lickfest, I do not want to know what Italy's Aldo Montano does to his gold medal in the privacy of his own bedroom.

If we can see the veins popping out of your groin, your swimsuit is too revealing. In fact, even if we can't, it might be too revealing.

Are you feeling horny, baby? Yeah!

Moron The News

I'm about to hit the skies on my way to the happiest molten, hurricane ravaged, place on Earth. The one thing I will miss the most is my online news. It never fails to amuse me.

At least while I'm in Florida I'll be able to watch my favorite online TV news station, Local 6. My favorite story of the day there? Ted Kennedy is pissed off because they somehow mixed things up and put him on that homeland security "do not fly" list. A DHS spokesman admitted that the listing was a horrible error. "Senator Kennedy was supposed to be on the 'Do Not Drive' list. We apologize for the error."

The single worst line ever ever uttered on the big screen belongs to Keanu Reeves. In Point Break, Reeves unconvincingly portrays an FBI agent who learns to surf in, like, a day, so that he can infiltrate a group of bank-robbing surfers. It's bad enough that the film completely ignores the intense "locals only" attitude of real surfers and lets Reeves's character, Johnny Utah, join the gang. But it gets much worse when Utah is compelled by the gang to go along with them for a robbery. "I ... am an F ... B ... I ... Agent!" he screams at bad guy Bohdi. It just doesn't get any less realistic than that. Fast forward to 2004. A local Orange County guy, who also happens to be an FBI Agent, is among the cast of the next Survivor series. I can't wait to hear him tell people what he does for a living. I hope he delivers the line with the same enthusiasm as Johnny Utah.

People on 'roids should not stand in the sun. In a related story, Barry Bonds passed out outside a burger joint today.

New Jersey Governor James E. McGreevey's approval rating has not suffered since he announced that he had an affair with a man. His approval numbers are up two points since the story broke. If the November election looks like a dead heat at the end of October, do you suppose George Bush would consider banging Colin Powell to pick up a couple of electoral votes?

USC condom references are older than than dirt, but headline writers still love to slip one in when they can. You have to register to see this one, but the Orange County Register featured this headline today: Trojans Feel Effect of Probe. Nothing you can say will convince me that the writer did not intend that to be a double entendre.

Illegal alien stories sort of infuriate me. Out of Salinas Victoria, Mexico, comes this story, about a man thought to have drowned crossing the Rio Grande last week. His family received word of his demise and buried what they thought to be his body. Two days later, he called to tell them he had successfully made it over the border to the U.S. His family's reaction? "The stunned family said [he] should be granted temporary US residency and a work visa because of the mishap." What?!? Since when is that a ground for legalizing illegal immigration?

Two sisters who attend Cal State Northridge and came to the U.S. illegally with their parents many years ago are about to be deported to Mexico after taking an unauthorized trip to Tijuana and illegally crossing the border back into the U.S., where they were busted. Edith Luna and Martha Luna appeared on TV this week, crying about how the termination of their applications for permanent residency is an unfair punishment for something as minor as illegally re-entering the country. Sadly for them, the federal law that permanently bars the sisters from re-entering the United States does not allow them to appeal. Edith cried, "we are being treated like criminals ... they took me to jail...." Here's a hot tip: if you don't want to be treated like a criminal, don't violate federal laws.

As a matter of fact, don't violate any laws. If you trespass at a sporting event, it might seem funny at first, but it could result in you becoming some inmate's new quasi-girlfriend. Examples given: that guy who ran on the field during a Mets game carrying a "Howard Stern for President" sign is going into the can for 8 weekends. Doh! And the dude in the tutu who invaded the Olympic diving competition on Monday has already been given a prison sentence of five months. Double doh!

But the dumbest smart ass in the country right now is a bricklaying fan of the Oklahoma Sooners who plugged the letters O and U into the renovation of a brick wall at Oklahoma State's Boone Pickens stadium. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's funny, dude. But, you're still a bricklayer. Then again, at least you have a job. That's better than most Sooner fans.

Mess Up This Survey

Someone is sending out email spam to "leading plaintiff's attorneys" seeking the inside scoop on some of their colleagues. I am guessing that some wicked defense firm is behind it. I don't know of anyone who is actually taking the survey and doing it seriously. But if you'd like to have some fun at the insurance industry's expense, give it a try.

http://thenetopinion.com/cgi-bin/r.cgi/forcharitysurvey.html

The Miswielded Power of Prayer

Add this to the list of things people don't really understand: Prayer.

Some people just don't know how to pray. Do you "get your praise on" by smoking dope? Whitney Houston, I suspect, does. In December 2002, Houston told Diane Sawyer that she had abused drugs in the past and that she had "gotten beyond that time through prayer." Well, the prayers were obviously a very short term solution, because she's been in rehab again since then. After her most recent "relapse", she thanks her fans "for their support and prayers." The support, however, didn't help her avoid rehab. Neither did the prayers.

I'm still waiting to hear what happened to Angela Morris. Ms. Morris doesn't well understand the purpose of Bible study and prayer. In May, she was arrested for [allegedly] pouring boiling oil on her boyfriend's face in an argument over a Bible verse. I understand people having disagreements over a Bible passage, but if you are one of those people who settle such disputes by disfiguring your opponent in the debate, you are, shall we say, missing the bigger picture. I'd rather pray with a witch than with that bitch.

Other people don't know how to interpret the reply. Dee Laney murdered two sons and permanently injured a third because she thought God told her to do it. Laney was a devoted and loving wife, mother and Christian who believed deeply in her Pentecostal beliefs, including the belief that Jesus literally speaks to the faithful. Before she used large rocks to attack her boys, Laney told members of her congregation that God had spoken to her.

Had she read Genesis 22:13, she would have known that, even if God tells you to kill your child, He doesn't really intend for you to carry out the command. I mean, hasn't she seen Joan of Arcadia? When God sends a normal person out on a mission, it's supposed to be a mission of good. A decent rule of thumb is this: if you pray for guidance, and the answer comes back telling you to kill someone, especially your own baby, the voice you are hearing might not be God's.

Can you believe that Planned Parenthood has a chaplain? What for? To help people pray for the right to kill fetuses? Would you also believe that there is a group called "Coalition for Reproductive Choice"? At an abortion rally earlier this year, a female rabbi appeared on the podium to say that she was "pro-God, pro-choice." Protesters claimed that God blesses the abortion of unborn children because God is a woman. A sign pronounced "I asked God. She's pro-choice." To what god do these people pray?

Other people don't pray hard enough, apparently. As I watched the unexpected cutback Charley made toward Captiva Island and Punta Gorda last week, I wondered if God was punishing the people of southwest Florida for not praying hard enough. I saw so many people from Tampa talking to reporters and telling them how they were just praying for a miracle. Well, they got it, but at the expense of the equally good people of Lee County. On the other hand, maybe the Lee County folks just prayed for the wrong thing. I saw one guy in Fort Myers telling a reporter that he was glad that the storm would be missing Fort Myers, and he was "just praying for the people in Tampa and St. Petersburg."

Many people prayer for things that God just doesn't care about. Praying for the outcome of a sporting event is absurd. Do you really think God cares about whether your team wins? Before you answer that, ask yourself these two questions: how many people pray for Notre Dame's football team, and how well did they do last season? If prayer made a difference on the field, Loyola Marymount, BYU and/or Oral Roberts would be piling up NCAA championships. Instead, those trophies are going to schools like Miami and USC.

If God didn't intervene to save the office workers in the World Trade Center, He is certainly not going to waste time making sure your kicker hits the game winning field goal. So don't waste your time, especially if your team is playing USC.

I'm not saying you shouldn't pray. Even science would agree that prayer is beneficial. All I'm saying is, if you are typical, you are not very good at it.

Breaking The Elevator Rules

One of the fundamental rules of elevator etiquette is that you must always pretend you are not listening to the conversations of other riders. However, a corollary rule also says that you shouldn't discuss bowel movements and similar subjects on the elevator.

I'm on an elevator, and a sizable fellow remarks to his buddy: "Yeah, the Atkins thing is really working. I weighed myself this morning and I was down to 265." Then he leans over, and, in a voice that was only slightly hushed, adds "And that was even before I took a shit."

So I let out a barely hushed noise of disapproval, and these jerks turn toward me like I'm the jackass. Hey, guys, you broke etiquette first.

Puerto Rican Olympics

I know all that talk of Puerto Rico becoming the 51st state has come and gone, but are they not still a U.S. territory? What in the hell are we doing letting them send athletes to the Olympics under anything but the U.S. banner? Shouldn't that embarrassing 92-73 score read U.S. 92 U.S. 73?

Can California send a team to the Olympics next time? California could probably kick the U.S. basketball team's ass, too.

Ten Things I Learned On The Internet

1. Someday Cumbre Vieja volcano is going to erupt. When it does, it is going to drop a chunk of land into the ocean that is going to send a 300 foot wall of water onto the Eastern seaboard. Slip that in just below Nuclear Winter and Giant Asteroid Strikes the Earth, on your list of doomsday events to fear in the middle of the night.

2. Sometime in the next 600,000 years, Yellowstone is going to erupt in the most violent volcanic explosion ever known to man. Theoretically, it could happen within a few weeks, but some experts opine that it won't happen until 100,000 to 600,000 years from now. For now, you can safely enjoy the geysers after finding out how they work.

3. From Mike Garrett, to OJ Simpson, to Ricky Bell, to Anthony Davis, to Charles White, to Marcus Allen to Reggie Bush, USC has the richest tradition in college football if you are a fan of the running back.

4. Al Qaeda is hoping to screw up the November elections.

5. Some people have faces that betray their lies. Other liars get away with stuff.

6. Skydiving, rockclimbing, gangbanging and pissing off OJ Simpson get all the attention. But some of the most dangerous things we face include unsanitary desks, hot dishwasher interiors with broken glass, holy water parasites and hard, heavy top-shelf decorations are much more likely to kill you.

7. Even with a low-carb diet lime slice, Corona Light is the worst beer known to man.

8. Getting rich is not just a matter of luck. There are methods to becoming rich.

9. We are only three weeks away from the big 6.4 Southern California quake. If the prediction turns out to be a dud (and it was made by a UCLA man, so take it with a grain of salt), here's a new potential method for spotting the next great temblor.

10. At least 278 people don't know how to spell correlating. That is fewer, though, than the number of people who use "supposably" as a word.

Paraskevidekatriaphobia

Many people fear Friday the 13th. I do not. If I did, I'd have been hiding in my den, sucking down horse tranquilizers, and nursing my sore tooth and gums while watching on TV as my vacation destination gets torn apart by winds like wild animals tearing prey into bite sized chunks. Instead, I was playing a cash poker tournament at a guy's house against nine other decent Hold-em players.

I thought it was a bit like tempting fate to play two poker tournaments on Friday. Since luck is a big part of such events, and since winning the thing pays almost as well as my day job, a less infamous calendar spot would have seemed more prudent. But more importantly, I didn't know if the horse tranquilizers were going to impair my judgment. Impaired judgment = impaired cash totals.

It turned out to be very lucky. Two tournaments. No re-buys. Two first place finishes. I took about six guys out by calling their all-in bets. Only one guy doubled-up. Only one of my all-in bets was called, and I beat him. That's very good luck.

Free Hooters Wings Thoughts

While still rejoicing over the good fortune of having delayed my Florida vacation until the end of the month, I spent some time watching baseball with my five-year-old daughter. She had a blast, largely because it was free babooshkah doll night. She now has two such dolls, and she's looking forward to getting the third in a few weeks.

I had fun because the Angels had a superb offensive night, scoring 5 runs in the sixth inning on their way to an 11-8 victory. The sixth inning outburst guaranteed free Hooter's Wings for all in attendance.

I had a pleasant surprise waiting for me in the parking lot, too. I drove the pickup to the game. My daughter loves riding in the pickup, because she can see much better from the front seat of the pickup than from the back seat of the Jeep or the BMW. I sometimes hate driving the pickup to ball games because, for some reason, a certain percentage of the population thinks that an empty pickup bed is a good place to dump their garbage on their way in or out of the game. Tonight, however, someone dropped their babooshkah doll into the back of my truck. So now, I get one, too. (My first one was already promised to my other daughter.) I checked it for anthrax and stuff, and it looks clean, so I brought it in and put it on my desk.

I'm wondering what kind of condition Florida is going to be in when I get there. Hurricane Charley hit or grazed most of my favorite places: Grand Cayman, Key West, Sanibel and Captiva Islands, Orlando, Daytona. Sanibel and Captiva got their asses kicked. The latest word was that well over 100 homes were destroyed, with at least as many suffering significant damage, and Captiva was literally cut into two islands. I hope the Mucky Duck is still there. I doubt it, although the barely inland Bubble Room apparently survived.

I had been seriously thinking about buying property there. I'm glad I didn't. It was 18 feet underwater. Congressman Porter Goss, best known these days as President George W. Bush's nominee for director of the Central Intelligence Agency, is probably among those who lost their homes to the storm.

One of the reasons I didn't buy property there was precisely because of this risk. As an absentee owner, I wouldn't be well able to protect my property from such storms, and, although this was an uncommonly strong hit, it wasn't unforeseeable. I pity all those old retirees who had been living in trailer parks in Punta Gorda and Arcadia. They all have convertibles now. People who want to live in trailer parks should move to California. Mobile homes do not hold up well in hurricane territory or tornado zones. But they do a great job of riding out earthquakes. Move to earthquake country, people.

Anyhow, as I munch on my free spicy wings here at Hooter's, I'm thinking that the road trip to Sanibel is probably off. Caladesi Island still sounds good. Daytona, not so much. And while Friday the 13th was unlucky for several million people, I appear to have lucked out again by arriving at my vacation destination just after the big storm has passed. I just hope Danielle and Earl stay to the south.

Another Good News, Bad News Day

On my way to court today, I got pulled over by a motorcycle cop. I was on my cell phone, of course, engaged in a heated discussion with another attorney. I was distracted. Hence, I didn't see the cop in time to slow down.

The cop first asks me what I thought the speed limit was. I guessed that it was 40 or 45. He tells me that I am way off, and that he got me on laser doing 57 in a 35 zone. The car to my left and the car to my right were doing the same. "You're just the unlucky one I pulled over" he said. "The fact that you didn't have a front license plate may be been a factor. Oh, and you have a brake light out." Just as I was about to thank him for being a smart ass, and ask him to write my three tickets quickly, please, he told me that he had just gotten a call to an accident scene, and that he was letting me off with a warning. "It's your lucky day," he added.

I managed to make it to court just before the judge took the bench, but just barely. That was my last lucky break of the day.

I was developing a toothache. To be on the safe side (since I'm going out of state soon), I made an appointment with my dentist, who is usually closed on Thursdays, but said he was in today and could see me at 3:00 p.m. Lucky? Mmmmaybe.

The dentist discovered that I had a cracked root, and, among other things, I would need a root canal. So tonight, my jaw is throbbing and I've consumed enough pharmaceuticals to euthanize a rhinoceros, and it still hurts like hell.

I guess it could be worse. I could be in Orlando this week, 3,000 miles from a dentist, with a cracked, throbbing root, and two screaming kids who are furious that we can't have any more fun this week because a hurricane is coming ashore in the morning.

The Never Ending Parade of Idiots

Most of us had at least one friend in high school who was way, way down on the IQ charts. You tend to lose track of them over the years, until you run into someone at a baseball game or something and they say, "so, did you hear what so-and-so did?" And then they tell you, and you wonder how you ever were able to tolerate spending time with so-and-so.

This week, there have been more than a few idiots making the news. Coming soon to a baseball game conversation near you, are the following morans:

Bryan S. Condo drives drunk. In fact, he drives at four times the legal BAC limit. His license has been criminally suspended and he has prior arrests for DWI. But Mr. Condo has a conscience. And it got the better of him. So he pulled over a Vermont trooper and instructed the trooper to arrest him for drunk driving. He's an idiot, but at least he's less harmless than those craftier drunk drivers who try to evade the police.

Slipping beneath the surface of a body of water is an effective way to evade the police. However, if you overdo it, and never come up for air, the consequences can be worse than being arrested, arguably.

If you are going to jump to your death, is it too much for us to ask that you avoid landing on innocent people below?

Bobby Fischer is on the verge of becoming like that dude in the Paris airport who inspired the story in Tom Hanks's new movie, The Terminal. Fischer reportedly wants to renounce his American citizenship because the filthy American government wants to prosecute him for violating an American law that pretty much all of the rest of America obeyed. Hey, Bobo, you may be a fantastic chess player, but I have a country, and you don't!

What's grosser than gross? I've an exemplar. Gross is finding out that your waitress has been pooping in your customers' soup. Grosser still is her confession that she's been doing this for months.

If you sniff drugs for a living, you should probably keep an eye out for signs of overdosing. And if you're a dog, maybe your trainer should do that for you. Otherwise, you're not likely to make it to 50 in dog years.

New religions keep popping up every day. Most don't catch on, like this group from Hertzogville, who believed self-proclaimed prophet David Francis, who predicted that Paul Meintjies would rise from the dead on July 29. Oops. He meant August 5. Oops. He'll get back to you.

I'm not saying that it is wrong to believe that abortion is evil. All I'm saying is that the cops in Connecticut don't want you crossing the state line if you're driving a truck with a giant billboard of an aborted fetus on the side.

I'm not saying that it is wrong to hold beliefs that oppose the gay lifestyle. All I'm saying is that taking an anti-gay sign to a "Gay Day" sporting event is like begging to have same-sex couples make out in front of you.

Along the same lines, the hassle of people freaking out over you using the word "lez" in a professional scrabble game just isn't worth the couple of points that little word is worth.

And if you are a teenage lesbian, and you have a 15-year-old girlfriend that your grandparents hate, I'm not saying that it's wrong to be angry about it. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't kill them. And if you do, writing out a "to do list" that includes "Kill" is not a good idea. Writing it on your arm is, arguably, an even worse idea.

American Pie was very funny. I almost threw up from laughing so hard. American Pie 2 was about as fresh as week old undergarments. American Wedding was awful. And they are going to make an American Pie 4. Stiffler's little brother goes to band camp. Frankly, I don't want to know what he does with his flute.

In Vancouver, everyone seems to be upset over a finding that farm-grown salmon have elevated levels of certain fire-retardant chemicals in them. I don't really mind. After all, I like the idea that my salmon is unlikely to burst into flames on my plate.

Toys R Us is thinking about getting out of the toy business. Maybe they should start selling hamburgers, to fill the gap left by McDonald's, which is now heavily into the toy business.

Some dude has lost 321 pounds is the last eight weeks. How heavy does one have to be to lose that much weight? Hint: enough to kill your half-ton pickup.

Rick Fox proves the adage, "No matter how hot that woman is, there's some guy out there, somewhere, who is sick and tired of sleeping with her."

In the Scott Peterson trial, Amber Frey has taken the stand to prove the correlating theorum that "No matter how mediocre that skank looks, there is some guy out there, somewhere, who would be willing to sleep with her at least once." Can anyone tell me why Gloria Allred needs to be at that trial "representing" Frey as she testifies? I mean, other than, because she wants to be on TV.

The death of an obese Massachusetts woman and her 8-month-old fetus has people concerned over the risks associated with stomach stapling procedures. The woman had the procedure performed about 10 months before she got pregnant. When she died, the woman was still 440 pounds. 440 pounds? Forget what I said before about Amber Frey. This pregnant Massachusetts woman was the proof that no matter what you look like, there is a man out there willing to do it with you. I, however, am not that man.

If you are Paris Hilton's boyfriend, and you want to slap her around, as any corrupt Tijuana policeman can tell you, there is a right way to do it, and there is a wrong way. The wrong way is to use fists, which leave behind visible bruises. Far better is to hit her upside the head with a telephone book. It gets your point across, but leaves no visible bruises.

The same could be said, I suppose, if you want to persuade a hotel employee to have consensual sex with you.

You know the old saying, fools rush in where angels fear to tread? The Kobe Bryant prosecutors seem to have lost their nerve. Nerve was all they had.

I wonder if they got their diplomas from California Alternative High School. This school taught its student body that Congress had two houses -- the Senate for Democrats and the House for Republicans; that the U.S. flag had not been updated to reflect the addition of Alaska, Hawaii and Puerto Rico to the "original" 50 states; that the federal "administrative" branch oversees the Treasury Department; and that World War II occurred from 1938 to 1942. They considered that the "non-fiction" curriculum. In the fiction department, their students were sent on wild library searches to locate a copy of the classic "Death of a Traveling Salesman." Deaths of plain old ordinary salesmen weren't interesting enough to read about. Yet, ironically, California Alternative High School is interesting enough to read about.

Weather Watch

We're getting closer to the day that we leave for Florida. As usual, it looks like we are going to arrive right after a major storm. In 2001, we arrived in Cancun three hours after tropical storm Chantal had battered the coast just south of there. In 2002, we arrived in Galveston just one day after a storm dropped 11.46 inches of rain (an all-time record). This year:

Meet tropical storm Bonnie, set to hit central and northern Florida on Thursday. Immediately thereafter, tropical storm Charley will be arriving.

Both are good candidates to become hurricanes, Charley slightly more of one. So go on, Florida, get it out of your system. I'm looking for clear skies the following weeks.

8-11-04 UPDATE:

Charley is now a hurricane, and Bonnie is getting ready to make landfall in the morning near Panama City, still with the potential to strengthen into a hurricane. Their paths will cross, but Charley will be a full day behind, say the weather experts.

Charley will hit at or near Key West early on Friday. But tonight, they are still partying at Sloppy Joe's.

Mentorless

The Saturday before last, as my family was celebrating my daughter's 10th birthday, my mentor died after a long illness. I didn't find out about it until Tuesday morning. It was, at once, both expected and unanticipated. Though he had been stronger and in good spirits recently, he had been troubled by severe health problems for a decade. In fact, clinically speaking, it's not the first time he died. It's just the first time he was not revived. He leaves behind a wife, three grown kids and one sixth grader. He was all of 51 years old.

Art was, among other things, a fine Trojan, a fine trial lawyer, and a selfless mentor to me. He was the source of some of my best lawyer stories. He was the first person to hire me, and, years later, when he was in solo practice and I wanted out of big firm life, he helped me set up my own law firm. He retired, due to his illness, three years ago, but I could still count on him for a timely bit of advice whenever I needed it. And I don't mean just textbook advice; I mean the kind of advice that most successful people horde and guard as trade secrets.

I feel almost catatonic. You know the old phrase about old soldiers fading away? Well, he went like that, except, he didn't fade. He just disappeared into thin air, literally. He had an odd sense of honor, often making much ado about insignificant courtesies and slights. He was often intensely private, and, in turn, he tried never to impose upon someone else's privacy. His last wishes, which I am sure he conveyed for what he thought to be the benefit of his friends and family, were to be cremated and mourned by no one but his immediate family -- parents, children, wife.

I am firmly convinced that, if he knew how the other people around him felt, he would have let us memorialize him. Instead, there was no ceremony, no eulogy, not even a gravestone. I feel robbed. Worse, I feel guilty about feeling robbed.

I'll get over it eventually.

Get Your Filthy Hands Off Her, You Damned Dirty Tigger!

After being acquitted of groping a 13-year-old girl, the former Disney World employee is getting his old job back. Unfortunately, Michael C. Chartrand says he's not going to be donning the Tigger suit any time soon. That means that almost any of those characters could have Chartrand inside. I'm going to be watching for that little perv the whole time we're there. If I can't see the face of the person playing the character, I'm watching those paws very carefully.

Ten Places I Really Want To See

As we continue to plan and anticipate our next trip to Florida, which will mark our 33rd day in Florida in the past two years, it occurs to me that I'm not crossing anything new off my list of places to see before I die. Right now, the list is well over 100 long, but the ten I would do next, if given the time and money to do so now, are:

1. Dunns River Falls, Jamaica
2. Dublin, Ireland
3. Yellowstone National Park
4. The Great Barrier Reef
5. London, England
6. Rome, Italy
7. Athens, Greece
8. Paris, France
9. Jerusalem, Israel
10. Giza, Egypt

Frankly, I wouldn't go to the last two right now even if I had the time and the money.

Places I have been to, and would like to go back to, include:

Yosemite, Poipu Beach in Kauai, Kaanapali in Maui, Grand Cayman, Grand Bahama, Cancun, Tokyo, The Grand Canyon, New York City, Washington DC and Sanibel Island in Florida.

Hypnagogic Sports Fan Thoughts

I got the strangest spam the other day. It just said:

epicene gargantuan chrysolite superstitious
so thoughtful fractionate referring
unadulterated swastika candlewick slog
plunk koran written ingenue

What the hell is that all about?

I was almost as perplexed by a judge's tentative ruling online last week which read: "[I]f the motion for summary judgment has to be continued or re-briefed due to the amended pleading, that is the way it is got be."

"The way it is got be"? Judge, you must be overworked and underslept. Either that, or you've taken up Ebonics as a second language.

I'm trying to get all my work caught up before my vacation. It's looking pretty good. I might not even have to pull back-to-back all-nighters to get it done.

I slept 11 hours last night. I followed that up with a 2 hour nap. Half of the rest of the day, I was only half awake. I haven't slept this much in a long time. It doesn't look like I missed much. It's been a quiet news day. The only news today, really, was the Greg Maddux story. I have a few weeks more until I start avidly followed the sports page again.

College football season starts in exactly three weeks. I can't wait, especially with my team favored to win the championship. I hope we get back to the Orange Bowl. I've been once. I want to finish the drive to Key West this time. I'm confident enough that I've reserved (refundable) airfare. However, I'm not buying tickets just yet.

I hated it, but that trade by the Dodgers isn't looking so tragic a week later. A series against the Pirates doesn't measure a team's greatness, but their play has been consistent all week.

Thanks to the Angels, Raul Mondesi's career looks done, but Andres Galarraga's looks undone. At 43, Galarraga wants to play one more September in the hope that he will knock out two more home runs to reach 400.

Mondesi, on the other hand, is toast. I wouldn't be surprised to hear about Mondesi doing something really weird soon, like going off to do drugs with OJ Simpson's girlfriend, a la Pedro Guerrero.

The sudden retirement of Ricky Williams left fans of the Miami Dolphins feeling cheated. I disagreed at first. Most of us would love to work just long enough to save enough money and then quit. Robert Smith did. Why should Ricky Williams be any different?

There have been quite a few elite athletes who retired in the prime of their careers. Most had good reasons. Magic Johnson had AIDS. Sandy Koufax wanted to avoid debilitating arthritis. Pat Tillman wanted to serve his country. Robert Smith wanted to pursue non-athletic interests.

Ricky Williams wanted to smoke pot. I take back my initial respect for his decision. Williams is an idiot.

I hope Lamar Odom doesn't retire to hit the bong. To hear him talk, he might actually prefer the huge ducats and the Laker experience, over a few hits from a fattie. When asked if he liked being traded to the L.A. not-Clippers, Odom said: "You ask anybody in the NBA what team they want to play for, when you get them away from their teammates and their fans, and they will say they want to play for the Lakers."

In spite of this unspoken advantage over all other franchises, I thought the Lakers were adrift without a plan until their moves this week. It is now obvious to me. They are trying to become the 1991 Bulls.

If the plan works, it looks something like this:

Kobe = Jordan
Atkins = Armstrong
Odom = Pippen
Divac/Mihm = Cartright
Grant = Grant

If it works, I like it. If it doesn't work, I hate it. I'll get back to you in May or June.

I just got my first look at the Lakers 2004-2005 schedule. The game I was most looking forward to -- Miami -- is going to be Christmas. WTF? Now I have to sell them. I'm not about to ditch the girls on Christmas to go to a basketball game. I still hope to see Miami and Shaq play this year, however. I have two choices. First, if USC goes to the Orange Bowl, I can try to catch Miami at home against Charlotte, Seattle or New York. If USC stumbles, I'll have no choice but to catch Miami on January 14 as I, gulp, attend my first Clipper game at Staples Center.

I guess it's just the way it is got be.

My Favorite Lawyer [Client] Joke

A man is flying in a hot air balloon when he realizes he is lost. He reduces his altitude and spots a man in a field below. He lowers the balloon toward the man and shouts to him, "Excuse me, can you help me? I am late to meet a friend, but I don't know where I am."

The man below says, "I'm happy to help. You are in a hot air balloon, hovering approximately 30 feet above this field. You are between 40 and 42 degrees N. latitude, and between 58 and 60 degrees W. longitude."

After a brief pause, the balloonist declares: "You must be a lawyer."

"I am" replies the man. "How did you know?"

"Well," says the balloonist, "everything you have told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost."

The man below responds, "Indeed. And you ... You must be a client."

"Why, yes, I am," replies the balloonist, "how in the world did you know?"

"Well," says the man, "you don't know where you are, or where you are going. You have made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. The fact is you are in the exact same position you were in before we met, but now it is somehow my fault."

[the joke is almost as funny if you substitute Lenny and George in place of the unnamed client]

Today was an interesting day with my clients.

I started the day driving to San Diego for a routine court appearance. On my way back, I got a call from another attorney on my floor, telling me that our mutual client was in the office to pick up her settlement check.

Clients are interesting characters. In general, clients are easy to get in for an initial meeting. They are harder to get in during the middle of a case when, say, I need them to verify discovery responses. Then, after I settle, not only are they easy to get to come in, they might show up unannounced at any time.

So it went with this client. We had a nice settlement that will pay her well over $100,000, tax-free. The check was deposited in my trust account a few days ago, with a hold that was to be lifted today. I told the client to call and make an appointment to come in after yesterday. She didn't. She just showed up today.

Now, the trust account has exactly two signors -- the two shareholders in the firm. One was on vacation this week. The other, me, was in San Diego, with an afternoon appointment to follow. "That's okay," says the client, "I can wait."

Ultimately, via cell phone, I arranged a meeting at a Starbucks near my home, since I was going to get back from San Diego too late to make it in to the office. We agreed upon 4:15 p.m.

I got to Starbacks plenty early. Unfortunately, there wasn't an empty seat in the place, so I pulled up a chair on the patio and waited. The client arrived a bit late. She didn't even look for me (though we've met many times, and she would have no trouble recognizing me), because she hadn't seen my BMW in the parking lot. It never occurred to her that I might have more than one car. So she sat in a corner and stared at the door for 20 minutes. She never saw me come in and she never saw a 540 pull up. So she assumed I wasn't there.

She was, of course, wrong. Eventually, I looked up from my computer and saw her. I walked over just in time to stop her from laying down one of those Caribbean black person curses on me (her words, not mine). We wrapped things up, and she left with her fat settlement check.

Now, answer this for me. If you were meeting someone at Starbucks, and you knew he had a tax-free check for $100,000 with your name on it, would you not at least turn your damned head to look around for him before assuming that you had been blown off? I would. Hell, I would walk up to every single male adult in the house and see if he had my money.

I guess I'm more logical than the average bear.

Stuff To Do Online (Part 16)

I've been watching I Love the 90s shows on VH-1.

I was amused by I Love the 70s run. I remember the 70s. They were amusing.

I was addicted to I Love the 80s and I Love the 80s Strikes Back. I came of age in the 80s. I absorbed the 80s. I sometimes continue to live in the 80s.

But the 90s? I became a parent in the 90s. Consequently, I wasn't paying attention to pop culture at all times. The Big Lebowski? Never saw it. Master P? Never knew 'im. If I knew who Laura Palmer was, I might care about who killed her. The Real World, The Bodyguard, Billy Ray Cyrus? I paid no attention. Point Break? Is that the crappy movie that featured Keanu Reeves yelling "I... am an F...B...I...agent!"? It sucked. Kris Kross never made me jump. I never played Mortal Kombat. Polly Pockets? I thought those were brand new.

I never knew how to dance the Macarena. I never rode "the train." Manolo Blahniks? Was that a person, a place, or a thing? I was too busy studying for the bar exam, and being a Laker fan, to notice that Michael Jordan was about to win 6 rings in 8 years. The 90s were the years that KROQ began to suck. I cannot wax nostalgic for the 90s. It's too recent, and I wasn't paying much attention in the first place.

Now, however, I try to keep my finger on the pulse. Here's another list of cool, strange or interesting stuff I've found on the web. In ten years, you might be watching it on I Love the 00s.

First, some monkey stuff:

A stupid fake monkey video.

The dance of the sea monkeys. They don't really look much like monkeys, do they?

Mr. Monkey's list of famous monkeys.

This page is disgusting. Using the butt scratching monkey video to promote a product. How crass!

There are always another few interesting blogs to read:

Robert Brown's A Work in Progress.

Ariel asks "Are You Electrolicious?" Um, I don't know. How can I tell?

Bluishorange is in Ecuador.

If you use the Random Blog Entry Generator, yours won't be making my list of links.

You can take quizzes or tests:

Are you ready to get married? [No! No one ever is. You just do it.]

How much do you know about the American Presidents.

Which South Park character are you?

Which happy bunny are you?

You can watch amazing or amusing videos:

Only Dave could get away with a show about the Niggar family.

Little Natalie Gilbert's most triumphant moment becomes her embarrassing moment.

Homeless guy with a sense of humor shows off his bad ass ride.

This is an oldie, but a goodie from the surface of the f*cking moon. "Houston, we are on the f*ucking moon. Are you f*cking believing this? Over."

You can play games:

This one is going to give me nightmares. The spiders are coming! The spiders are coming!

Don't you dare sink my battleship.

A nice version of Pac Man.

Shoot rubber bands at your co-workers.

You can do odd things:

Do your own virtual knee surgery.

Your kids will like this interactive coloring book.

Get rated. Sadly, young teenagers can get rated here. At least they aren't naked.

Mark's apology note generator can help you write a sincere apology without any effort at all.

You can see strange or interesting stuff:

The Euphemism Generator can create up to 198,211,143 unique phrases.

Give your favorite celebrity a goatee.

This interactive face is amusing for at least 15 seconds.

Some people really dig their faggots.

You can learn something new:

Here's an explanation of where dingos come from.

Science may have finally found a reliable shark repellent.

So, you had a one-in-a-million experience today? There are 294 people just as lucky, or unlucky, as you.

Bust these computer myths.

You can buy strange or wonderful things:

The beer belt.

The pizza box laptop case.

Catch your spouse or, um, companion, cheating.

Tired of round watermelons? Try a square one. Or a pyramid.

You can sit and wonder what these people were thinking:

This strange person grades little kids' artwork. Harshly.

P.E.T.A. has launched an anti-milk campaign. Penn & Teller had a pretty funny show about those morons this week.

The knitters have come together to oppose the re-election of President Bush.

This guy found that a good way to build readership is to get google to associate your site with the phrase "Britney Spears Nude." I wouldn't stoop to his level.

You can read very strange news stories that your local news clowns aren't reporting:

Remember that horny Tigger who was accused of groping a 15-year-old girl? Acquitted.

Canada doesn't want any of those Mexican chicks coming north by falsely claiming to be talented strippers. So they are making applicants provide photos of themselves with no clothes on to qualify for a visa for Canada. And if you want to apply for a job reviewing those applications, the end of the line is waaaayyyy back there!

Cruise-ship passengers were awakened at 3:45 a.m. by a call over the vessel's public-address system to "abandon ship." Some thought it was funny; others thought it was not so funny.

More Nigerian scammers getting scammed.

You can check out a place far, far away via web cam:

Galveston has several webcams around town.

The Mount St. Helens webcam is still not back up.

Six out of seven Moscow webcams I found are busted. This one works.

Some webcams move. Like this webcam aboard the M/S Nordkapp, or this bridge webcam aboard the Golden Princess, which is currently headed for Aruba. Mmmmm. Aruba.

Stuff To Do Online (Part 15)

Another list of stuff I've seen recently:

First, some monkey stuff:

If you missed the Orangutan kickboxing fights, you missed 'em for good.

Another monkey-named blog: The Flying Space Monkey Chronicles.

There are always another few interesting blogs to read:

Like mine. After Triumph the Comic Insult Dog has pooped on it.

Dong Resin's Joint says things that should go unsaid. Like this entry: "Stop telling me Anne Frank is some kind of big "hero." All she did was sit quietly for a while. Anyone can do that." Okay, plus she was homely. But is it necessary to say that?

Ucfer is an interesting read.

The plan is to ride a SHT from coast to coast, at about 10 mph, until done.

You can take quizzes or tests:

How soon can you be a real millionaire?

Are you addicted to knowing yourself, in the Old Testament sense?

Which dysfunctional Care Bear are you?

Are you an American or a Canadian? (I already knew the answer to this one before I began. Or, at least, I thought I did.)

If you think quizzes are stupid, you can watch videos:

Want to see what a guy who just killed his wife and needs a new mattress looks and acts like?

I rarely watch political conventions. But I'm glad I saw this. Little Orphan Annie accuses Dick Cheney of using a "bad word" and says he should get a time out. A few minutes later, as only a few of the f*cking balloons came down from the ceiling, she probably put DNC convention center director Don Mischer on time out, too.

What, exactly, are Kerry's views on Iraq?

I can't tell for sure, but I think the dude in front of the camera is a politician or a developer. And some drunken idiot walks up, says something stupid, in a language I don't understand, and gets casually dropped.

You can play games:

The cursor bunny game.

Air hockey!

Dread Rocks.

Beach bomb volleyball.

You can do odd things:

Take a typing test.

Become a prisoner's penpal.

Play this foul-mouthed xylophone. But not at work. And not at full volume.

Make a custom street sign.

You can see strange or interesting stuff:

Here is the latest picture of Pfc. Lynndie England. She's quite pregnant. I can't help but wonder why any non-lesbian would want to sleep with her, but I don't plan to dwell on it.

Cartoons, in the spirit of the Far Side, made by a headhunting firm.

Someone went out and downloaded a bunch of random, non-pornographic digital photos that people have in their P2P shares folders.

Some advertising is better than other advertising, but just barely.

You can learn something new:

Read all about the science experiment left on the moon.

Did you read Da Vinci Code and wonder if ODAN was real? It is.

John Kerry and George Bush are cousins. John Kerry and John Edwards are not. But if they were, they would be kissing cousins.

Find out why it can hurt to bite a piece of aluminum foil.

You can buy something unusual:

Gay Fuel is pasteurized, has a great fruit flavor, is slightly carbonated and overcomes other energy drinks’ artificial taste. No, thank you.

You know all those stupid quizzes and tests I keep linking to for you? This site makes you pay to take them.

Alaskan soil treatment. It's better than, say, soil treatment from Baja California.

Infrared goggles have been reduced from almost $1,130 to just $586.95.

You can sit and wonder what these people were thinking:

First, this idiot enters into a suicide pact. Then, he doesn't even hold up his end of the bargain. Kind of like Brittany Murphy's character in The Prophecy II, but on purpose.

Fans of Indian film icon Amitabh Bachchan think he is an incarnation of God. Kind of the way we view Michael Jordan, except they mean it literally.

This Super Greg mirror site is too literal.

"As natural as it is to repeatedly jam a pair of scissors into one's crotch, of course, there are still questions to be asked." This page offers some fine points of etiquette, acceptable tools, and more.

You can read news that is too strange:

It's a big country, but today, George Bush and John Kerry went nearly toe-to-toe in Davenport, Iowa. Local bank robbers used the distraction to pull off three bank heists while the cops were securing the speech locations.

Mary Kay Letourneau, the teacher convicted for having sex with a sixth-grade student (and who has her own authorized website), was released from prison today. Her little boyfriend, now 21 years old, immediately sought to dissolve a prior stay-away order so they can reunite.

A school in India slipped booze and marijuana into the students' curry until the cook got ratted out. Transfer applications are through the roof.

A character on the Simpsons is coming out of the closet soon. No one is saying who. Waylon Smithers would seem to be a strong candidate.

You can check out a place far, far away via webcam:

The view from a Tokyo radio station. I've been to Tokyo exactly once.

Yavapai Point, Grand Canyon, Arizona. I've been to the Grand Canyon exactly once.

Vegas, Baby! The view from the MGM Grand. I've been there a shitpotfull of times.

Santa Catalina Island. I keep meaning to go there for the weekend, but I usually just end up at the beach house.

Stuff To Do Online (Part 14)

What a week I am having. So far, I've secured my vacation, turned down a settlement offer that would have yielded a million dollar fee, and lost a friend to illness. More ups and downs than words can express. Maybe I'll write about it later. For now, I'll stick with these lists of stuff to do online.

The back-to-back lists mean there is not as much monkey stuff:

Here, a one-year-old Samatran Orangutan shows you how much four plus one is.

Monkeys=Good. Ebola=Bad. This guy calls himself ebolamonkeyman. I'm undecided.

There are always another few interesting blogs to read:

Here is a video featuring a blogger who posted about her desire to commit suicide. And it may have saved her life.

Martha Stewart has a blog of sorts.

Thoughts From a Management Lawyer. A "Management Lawyer" is one of those guys who helps your employer nickel and dime you to death in between bouts of screwing you over royally.

The anti-spyware blog.

You can take absurd quizzes or tests:

Do you ruin relationships?

What Sex and the City vixen are you most like?

What is your warning label?

20 Questions to a Better Personality

If you think quizzes are stupid, you can watch amazing or amusing videos:

You watched the Dukes of Hazzard and thought, no way do car chases go on like that. But you thought wrong.

Modest Mouse performs live at the El Ray. (3rd from bottom)

The Pokemon Paris Hilton anime. (NSFW)

No matter how curious, fat dudes should not even try on that silky thong underwear. What if there was a fire?

You can play games:

Kill Bill.

Zap off the attire.

8 Queens. And I don't mean the Pet Shop Boys, the Smiths and Erasure.

Tankmania.

You can do odd things:

Write stuff in hieroglyphics.

Make President Bush say what you want him to say.

By comparison, the subservient president suffers.

Use the virtual stapler. Why? I cannot think of a reason.

You can see strange or interesting stuff:

Watch the time change by hand. I've actually bookmarked this one.

Ogre porn, with an over-18 section and an under-18 section. (Part is NSFW)

A list of crap your mom probably said, too.

Concentrate with your weak girlie-man brain.

You can learn something new:

How to hook up with the opposite sex while visiting Japan.

Never forget D-Day.

This charity looks truly special: Give Kids The World. It provides a weeklong vacation in Orlando, free of charge, to children with life-threatening illnesses. Their parents can come, too.

If tipping habits are part of your voting criteria this November, George Bush is the lesser of two evils. But just barely.

You can buy strange or wonderful things:

This is a neti pot. You use it to pour warm saltwater into one nostril and out the other. I say "you" because I sure as hell am not going to do that.

Jesus is my football coach. Ty Willingham should have this on his desk.

People will bid on anything. A half-eaten banana sold for 1,650 pounds. That's almost more pounds than Michael Moore weighs.

Q: What's grosser than a RealDoll?
A: A previously-owned RealDoll.

You can sit and wonder what these people were thinking:

The news story tells how Warronnica Harris's cell phone rang in the theatre, and the next thing anyone knows, she and her boyfriend are arguing with a cop and getting maced. They should have maced her mom. What kind of person names her child "Warronnica"?

This Oklahoma family has kept a mummified orange in the family for 80 years.

Someone wrote it, so it must be true: "Embarrassed God Jumps Off Notre Dame Bandwagon."

How much gold is in a bottle of Goldschlager? Someone spent the time and effort to find out.

You can read news that is too strange to run in your regular paper:

If you believe in Hell, you will prosper.

Anecdotal evidence that the terrorists are doing dry runs in preparation of another coordinated airplane attack.

Deadly jellyfish toxins may hold the key to the next male impotency drug. If it was me, I'd live with the wet noodle.

A woman who had a lifelong irrational fear of being attacked by whales goes on a whalewatching boat and gets hurt when a whale bitch-slaps her boat. After hearing this, I have decided that I am never, ever, ever, going camping in werewolf territory again.

You can check out a place far, far away via webcam:

Trafalgar Square, London, England. My wife's penpal lives there.

Downtown Orlando. My wife's penpal will be vacationing there, the same week we are going. Which is also the same week my best friend from childhood will be vacationing there. Now that my last trial in August has been put off, we are cleared for departure. Watch for me waving to the camera!

The Salty Dog Cafe on Hilton Head Island. I want to go there, but I've never been.

And my favorite bar: Sloppy Joe's in Key West. The webcam features streaming live music when it is playing. You have to love their slogan: "Sloppy Joe's proudly serves a premium well, and a generous pour ... 20% more!"

As the infomercial man would say, "But, wait! There's more!" It also features a comfortable floor that will rise to greet you after five or six Mojitos. Maybe even less if you've thrown back one or two of those carved-out pineapple drinks first.

Stuff To Do Online (Part 13)

I ran an updated good/evil analysis of the bjournal last night, and got this much improved rating:

I think I'll do a solid week of these lists of stuff I've seen recently and see if I can get down to less than 10% evil.

The back-to-back lists mean there is not as much monkey stuff:

This monkey in the news reminds me of a girl my buddy once dated. He wanted me to go out on a double with her ugly friend, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Please don't judge me.

This is a very naughty and immodest set of monkeys.

There are always another few interesting blogs to read:

This page tells the story of a Nigerian scam artist who was outscammed.

VH-1 has a blog. I read it semi-regularly.

Accordion Guy had an interesting take on breaking up with your girlfriend via email and PowerPoint.

Hulk have blog now. Rrrrrrr!

You can take absurd quizzes or tests:

What is your major malfunction? Take this unscientific personality disorder test and find out. I came out not paranoid; not schizoid; not schizotypal; not borderline; not avoidant; not dependent. I had moderate scores in ... some other stuff. To interpret the test results, check out this summary of your various defects.

What level of Hell would you be banished to in Dante's tale? Which level is which? Find out here. I didn't take the test, because I've already been told, by an opposing party, that there is a special place in Hell for lawyers like me....

How well do you know your Brando?

How is your grammar?

If you think quizzes are stupid, you can watch amazing or amusing videos:

Wilma the whale exercises. In a related note, I'm back on Atkins.

Neurotically Yours, Dos and Don'ts. (Semi-Unsafe for Work)

Watch a guy play the piano with his balls. (SFW)

The Lonely Astronaut. Several clips to choose from. (If you did well on the grammar thing, you may recognize that as a dangling preposition.)

You can play games:

Fall Down. Brought to you by albino black sheep (found by me in Rich's Daily Column) Every time I play it, I want to chop someone's pinky off with a meat cleaver and wiggle my ass as I calmly walk out of the room.

Frog something or other.

Ninetendo handheld Donkey Kong, Jr.

Castlevania.

You can do odd things:

If Earth years were 1,000 days, how old would you be? Quick! Don't you know? Here is a helpful tool. The thousand day birthday calculator.

Give yourself a new name suitable for use in the exotic motion picture industry.

Make your own blank white card game.

It's less rewarding than those pages that let you blow up Barney, but this exploding hamsterdance page is pretty cool. The page has links to other odd activities, including Paris Hilton dressup, Kill Britney Spears, and Kill the Back Street Boys. Some of it is NSFW.

You can see strange or interesting stuff:

The bad, bad snowman.

Scary squirrel world (it's not really that scary.)

Some person with a banana fetish features "teens with bananas". (Some banner ads NSFW)

Compare the Dodge Ram logo with a woman's reproductive system.

You can learn something new:

Just because you are a drug dealer doesn't mean you have to be a tax cheat, too. Here's how to obey the law...

Everything you need to know about antimatter.

All the unofficial news about the Kobe trial.

Geometry in the Natural World: Phi, Fibonacci and the Golden Ratio aka The Divine Proportion.

You can buy strange or wonderful things:

A meat cleaver, just in case you keep playing Fall Down.

Bid on this "Drunk Armless Midget Picture CD."

So John Kerry has three purple hearts. Any idiot with $80 can get a purple heart.

If you buy this shirt, and you are a man, I would play tennis with you, but you'd be on your own after the game. I'm just going to get a beer. (If that went over your head, buy this instead)

You can sit and wonder what these people were thinking:

Who names their hotel the "Porn Ping Hotel"? Who?

I loved this story in the Weekly World News that warns that cheerleaders everywhere are succumbing to Merot's Syndrome, a contagious breast-tissue-eating bacteria. I like stories in which cheerleaders succumb, even if they are not completely true. But what if it is true? To be safe, you should forward this to everyone you know.

Some dude has a bone to grind against CompUSA. (How's that for a mixed metaphor?)

Break out the aluminum foil hats. This person has the lowdown on secret military codes hidden in ordinary-looking road signs.

You can puzzle over why these twins were not raised together:

Linda Ronstadt is looking more and more like Roseanne Arnold every day.

You can read news that is too strange to run in your regular paper:

Thailand is the penis chopping and reattaching capital of the world.

Mini-Me is trying to prove that he never married his putative wife. He's asked a Los Angeles judge to seal the file "so that personal and sexual details will never be revealed." Presumably, he doesn't want people to know that it's [very] small.

A drug dealer was spotted by eagle-eyed police who noticed his T-shirt that read: "I am a dealer."

It says here that China has half a billion people who have never brushed their teeth.

You can check out a place far, far away via webcam:

The Avalon fishing pier at Kill Devil Hills.

Venice beach.

Dayona Beach (with ocean surf sounds)

Disney World.

Stuff To Do Online (Part 12)

I had teenagers spend the night at my house this weekend. I also had an extra five-year-old and two extra ten-year-olds in the house. With the wife and kids, that left the count at roughly eight females, plus me. And I would have been able to say that I survived it just fine, except that one of the teenagers -- I don't know which -- got on my computer and installed spyware while looking for stuff on the internet. I hereby resolve to finish installing the wireless network at home so that no female fingers shall ever again touch the keyboard in my home office. Ever. And while I work on that, I'll post a few more pages of stuff I've seen on the web recently [without having to download viruses or spyware].

First, as always, there is some monkey stuff:

Monkeys have been in the news. Like the monkey I mentioned a week ago who started to ape humans by walking on two feet.

If you don't know what it means to "ape humans", you can read the expression in 196 contexts.

Sea monkeys are more than just fun for the whole family. They are like unto gods. False gods, arguably.

Whether you recognize them as gods or not, if you don't want to see monkeys eaten, you can sign the bushmeat pledge.

You can read a few unusual blogs:

Matt Leinart has a blog. I'll adding it to the roll.

Brittney's blog last week revealed that Brittney lost her digital camera, and that "There may or may not be nudie pictures on it." If she ever becomes famous, eventually she'll find out whether there actually were nudie pictures on it.

Another good music blog: Moebius Rex.

Wonkette had an entertaining observation about politics and prostitution.

You can take absurd quizzes or tests:

The Jung Marriage Test. I didn't try to take it because it said something about needing tokens. And I was tired. Plus, I'm already married and don't want to get unmarried and/or remarried.

Do you have a drinking problem?

What is your inner eye color?

Which bodily discharge are you? Which was I? I refuse to say.

If you think quizzes are stupid, you can watch amazing or amusing videos:

Michael Jackson brags about making whoopee with little children. The video miiiiight be unauthentic.

A bunch of VW club members got busted -- on tape -- weaving all over the place doing 100 m.p.h.

Let me be the 1,000,000th person to link to the 2004 election "This Land Is Your Land" parody.

In case you are a woman, and you've never been in front of a urinal, and you wonder whether this sort of thing ever happens, the answer is "not a chance."

You can play games:

This blast billiards game is pretty fun.

Bounce on the bra.

Play Russian Roulette with a gimp.

The trolley time trial.

You can do odd things:

Turn your mouse into a fireworks display.

Vote for your favorite Twinkies box.

Become an ordained minister, instantly. Incidentally, in your next email to me, you should address me as "Reverend."

The five minute de-stresser and relaxer.

You can see strange or interesting stuff:

Highlight this picture and see the object of my childhood fears. We all float down here!

Ali G's commencement address.

If you're a Republican, and you think the Democrats have all the fun engaging in lame protests, rejoice. Your day has finally come!

Asians should not wear the afro. Am I right>

You can learn something new:

The rogue wave phenomenon. Science is still trying to figure these things out. Once thought to be once every 10,000 years, freak non-tsunami waves 25 meters or larger actually occur on the planet about every other day. Rarely, they are caught on film.

Waves 50 to 100 feet, or even higher, are not considered "rogue" at Cortes Bank. People surf 'em.

Summer is a good time to watch for meteor showers.

Operation Clambake. An enemy of the Church of Scientology states its case against the church.

You can buy odd stuff:

A shelling net. You use it to scoop up seashells.

The Jesus of the week. You use it to scoop up heretical sports nuts. They also have featured "Touchdown Jesus", which is not the same as the Notre Dame version. "Remember folks, in the list of post-game speeches, 'Thank you, Jesus!' is second only to 'I'm going to Disneyworld!'" I get to say both this month.

For a contrary viewpoint, you can buy this shirt, which proudly tells the world that you’ve aborted your baby. If NAMBLA starts selling shirts online that say "I had sex with my little nephew", I'm throwing my cable modem in the trash.

Animal piss. Available in Fox, Coyote, Wolf, Mountain Lion and Bobcat varieties. You use it to scare your pet shitless.

You can sit and wonder what these people were thinking:

Bushes against Bush. So far, the Kerrys have not put up an anti-John site.

There be persons out there whose favorite thing to do is to help fat people become less thin.

The Wild Rose Shooters. I have no idea what the hell this is. It popped up as a false lead in a google search. To my knowledge, it appears to be pointless.

The worst former neighbor in the world.

And you can puzzle over why these twins were not raised together:

Katie Holmes and Amber Tamblyn.

Carlos Ghosn and Squiggy. Okay, maybe Mr. Bean.

A "Slow" News Week

I heard someone comment this week, that, "other than the convention, it was a slow news week." I wondered what he meant by slow. Sometimes, in the context of the news, "slow" is an antonym of "heavy." I always thought that was an odd juxtaposition. In most contexts, heavy and slow go together. Like this sad looking person I saw at Disney's Animal Kingdom. She's heavy, and she's slow.

Then again, I remember, growing up in La Mirada, there was a kid named Jamie who lived in the house at the end of my street. He wasn't retarded, his parents insisted. He was just a little slow. Like the fat guy on LA Law. Not actually retarded, just a little slow.

That makes more sense. If they meant that kind of "slow", then, yes. It was a "slow" news week.

One of the dumbest things I've ever read was in this story about the Ten Commandments going on tour. Do you remember that judge in Alabama who refused to remove the Ten Commandments from his courthouse? He has a big following. And that sculpture is now going on tour. I can understand that. It's newsworthy. It's a symbol of clashing values. It's a pop culture icon, of sorts. Not surprisingly, the stone sculpture is drawing good-sized crowds of mostly Christians. Equally unsurprisingly, some atheists and separation-of-church-and-state fanatics have shown up to express alternative viewpoints. One of those, Larry Darby, the president of the Atheist Law Center, Inc., was heckled on Saturday by various Christians who yelled things like "You're not welcome here!" A 73-year-old Christian, John Rocco, went a bit farther by bumping his knee into Darby's leg as they passed. An accidental knee bump is not big deal, but Rocco went on to tell the media: "I'm glad I didn't carry my gun. I'd probably be in jail right now. ... I believe in the Ten Commandments and I don't appreciate what people like him are doing to my country." Dude? WTF; over. You believe in the Ten Commandments? Have you read them? Did you get to the "Thou shalt not kill" part? It seems to me that someone who believes in the Ten Commandments should never have to feel relief that he had left his firearm at home, thus avoiding jail (ahem, and HELL!). Mr. Rocco claims to be a Christian, but he hasn't the foggiest freaking clue what it really means to be a Christian.

It's a common weakness. Some people, for example, think that if you are a Christian, any time you see something that vaguely looks like the classic image of Christ (which is probably not what Christ looked like), you need to accept that the image is divinely created, and you must flock to the site of that image.

The clearly biased World Stupidity Awards gave their stupidity award to George Bush. I'll admit that Bush has made some controversial decisions, but how do you overlook stuff like Congresswoman Eddie Bernice Johnson asking the UN to send observers into the US this November to ensure the fairness of US elections? That should have won at least one or two awards.

If the stupidity awards include gold, silver and bronze medals, Mandy Lee Waldridge deserves at least a bronze. If she doesn't fit any of their existing categories, they should make one up. Perhaps, "Most Stupid-Looking Mug Shot of the Year."

In my neck of the woods, we were recently visited by a Pennsylvania man who has 1,643 tattoos of Disney characters and obsesses about all things Disney to the point that he has alienated several estranged wives, and his two grown daughters. "My love for Disney comes first; that's why I've been through so many wives," George Reiger, Jr. said last week at the Crown Plaza Anaheim Resort. "Both my daughters have moved out, too. They got tired of everything Disney." The guy's will calls for his ashes to be spread into the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. I'm keeping my eyes open on that ride from now on. If I see someone in front of me start dumping an urn over the side, I'm going to tattle.

It's not just slow people in the news this week. There were slow companies, too. Delta Airlines is contemplating charging extra to customers who don't want to speak to a heavily accented Pakistani or Indian service representative. I wonder how much of a discount I can get by talking to a mime. If it means a free flight, I'll talk to the mime. But unless it means a free flight, I'll pass on the New Delhi service rep.

And it's not just slow people and slow companies in the news this weel. There were slow municipalities, too. Like the small group of residents in Ohio who formed a city solely for the purpose of setting up a speed trap and ripping off motorists. Fortunately, because they didn't bother to follow state election laws, their city has been dissolved. There's no word yet on whether the ticket money is going to be refunded. I wouldn't bet on it.

If all goes well for her, there is going be a new reality show about that actress who is now the single mother of the children of Britney Spears's new fiance. Fortunately, no network has yet picked up the show.

A San Diego man recently bought a truck for $29. That is not a typo. It was Twenty-Nine Dollars and no sense. That also was not a typo. The buyer apparently has no sense of reality. The truck, as it turns out, has "salvage title," which means it was once wrecked or flooded or something equally unpleasant. So now that the buyer knows of this status, he thinks he's been ripped off. Does he want his $29 back? Nooooo. He thinks he deserves a nice new truck as a replacement. "I have a 4-year-old and a 14-month old and a baby on the way," the man said. "I don't want to take them in a truck that I don't know whether it has a cracked frame. I want to be in something safe. I think they should take care of my family and make sure we're safe on the road and put us in another truck." He has an attorney who agrees with him. That attorney, however, went to Berkeley. We all know Berkeley people will protest any old thing. Dude? Invest more than 30 bucks in your family's ride. Seriously. Thirty bucks won't even get a family of four from San Diego to Oceanside and back on the Coaster. You think it's going to buy you a good, safe truck?

Finally, you've heard about the manseed dentist, have you not? This dentist in North Carolina [allegedly] squirted his own semen (from a syringe) into his patients' mouths. Instead of telling the patients to spit, he told them to swallow. One woman became suspicious because the syringe "smelled like sperm." Of course, as a normal person with no peculiar sexual practices, I have trouble understanding why a person would want to do that. But just as much, I have trouble understanding how he managed to do this to six or seven [alleged] victims. The first victim should have called the cops, or ripped his nuts off, or something. If she was really, really slow, then the second one should have done it.

If it had been my wife, this dentist would be dead, or worse. After all, I believe in the Ten Commandments and I don't appreciate what people like him are doing to my country, to borrow a phrase.

As if we didn't already have enough reasons to avoid going to the dentist.