TP

The newswires are buzzing with all sorts of news about toilet paper.

Sadly, the world mourns the loss of Mr. Whipple.

Now everybody's gonna squeeze the friggin' Charmin.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20071119/tv_nm/whipple_dc

And then, this!

http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=3935334&affil=wkef

This was a total smear campaign.

She was on a roll.

Bye.

Coyotes

On my ride to work today, I saw a coyote. I came within 50 feet of him. Thought he was a dog until I saw the pointy ears and bushy tail. He was pretty big. Maybe he has already put his winter coat on.

Oh yeah, that reminds me; a couple of weeks ago, I was going to bed very late. I peeked out the front window of my house and I saw a coyote walking by. We have some living in the field behind my house. This particular coyote is quite the suburbanite because he was walking down the sidewalk.

Thank you for choosing to read this post. Have a nice day.

Turkey Stuff

What the hell are giblets?

Every year I clean out the inside of the turkey gut and I find two things; a little thing that looks like a colostomy bag (giblets) and the turkey neck.

So, first things first. In terms of turkey anatomy, what are the giblets? If a turkey said to another turkey "man, that ground ball hit me right in the giblets!" where would he mean? Would he in fact, be a "he" in order to have giblets? Or do female turkeys also have giblets?

What do you call a male or female turkey?

And why do we need the turkey neck? I know turkeys have very well muscled necks. In nature, this is very useful as it allows them to walk like Chuck Berry. This is probably a mating thing because chicks dig guys who play guitar, and have big...beaks. But, back to my original point; what do we, the turkey consumer, use the neck for? A lady I visit at the nursing home says it's for making soup. Have any of you had turkey neck soup? If you offered someone "turkey neck soup" the moment they walked in your door do honestly think they would try it?

My theory is that the company who slaughters the turkeys wants us to feel like we're getting a good deal. So, they throw these things in as extras. Kinda like the toy surprise in a box of cheerios, except much more disgusting.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Good news for New Jersey squirrel eaters

NEW YORK (AFP) - Squirrel eaters in the US state of New Jersey have been told that the bushy-tailed rodents are likely safe to eat, after earlier being advised the unlikely delicacies could contain toxic metals.

The New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife describes squirrel as "good table fare," offering recipes for squirrel chowder, stew and barbecue.

Hell yeah! I'm so relieved.

Those are three things that go hand in hand; toxic metal, New Jersey and squirrels! I could really go for a squirrel sandwich right now. I like 'em with the tail still on. That's the only way to go...

Dayton, OH is 18th most dangerous city. Woot!

It's time for the 7th annual Most Dangerous Cities List.

And the winner is...

*machine gun blasts to simulate drumroll*

Detroit Michigan!

My current place of employment, Dayton, Ohio, came home 18th this year according to the Morgan Quinto Awards.

Am I proud of this? Well, it does make me feel like tough guy every time I make it back from walking to the post office. But otherwise, no, I don't feel good about it. In fact, I feel very un-good about it.

So, because I'm also writing this for AC and I get paid small amounts of money if I answer specific questions, it then leads me to wonder: "How can my city improve it's ranking?" and "How can I write about this in more than 400 words?". These questions burn deep in me like a pit of fire or some other analogy that might get me to 400 words more easily.

Well, I have some very, very innovative ideas about how Dayton can improve it's ranking next year. If these ideas are implemented, it will surely nudge it's way downward to pass Richmond, Va. (a.k.a "goodie-goodie land"). Moreover, it will easily require me 400 words or more to explain because I just drank 3 beers.

Reverse Panhandling: Have you ever walked through downtown Dayton and been approached by panhandlers asking for some extra change? This is caused by a term I call "economic desperation". That means people are desperate. Economically. This is the type of feeling one has when he/she has no money and it leads to violent offenses such as robberies, muggings, assualts, drive-by shootings, eggings, thefts and many other crimes that might get me above 400 words more easily.

But imagine with me now: what if the process were reversed? What if employees of the city approached these desperate people asking them if they needed spare change? I call this reverse panhandling or "RP". I think RP would lead these desperate people to lead much happier lives and moreover, might encourage other like-minded people to move to Dayton!

Another derivative of RP includes reverse prostitution. However, this idea will not be discussed here because it has the same acronym as reverse panhandling and all nifty ideas must have their own unique acronym.

Be Nicer: Unsubstantiated studies have shown that violent criminals are not nice people. Have you ever thought that maybe this is because no one was nice to them in the first place? The next time you see someone about to rob a bank (you'll recognize them because they will be wearing a ski mask or one of those "Groucho Marx" glasses, nose and mustache kits), go up and give them a hug. I bet you they will abort mission, right then and there!

Talk to People Who Are Talking To Themselves: Many city dwelling folk carry on conversations with themselves. Talk to them. That way they won't get in an argument with themselves, which could lead to violent crime.

And there you have it. Go Dayton!

Now, can I have a dollar, man?

Gym Dude

I was at the weight room today and there's some dude doing the buddy system with a lady 70 or so years of age. He also seems to be pushing her a bit too hard: "You can handle more weight than that".

* Strike one. Be gentle and treat old timers with respect *

He's talking loudly in the super-mp3 player decibel range and he's telling her everything she's doing wrong: "That's not how you stretch the hamstrings, you have to let the muscle fibers extend fully and then let them contract again!". Hah?

* Strike two. Don't broadcast yourself and be a show off. *

The clincher? Dude's shaped like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

* Strike three. Pushing Twinkies does not make you an expert in the gym. *

I Be Illin'

I've been invaded.
Could be something I ate?
Something got deep inside me
and chose to replicate.

You don't have a nucleus,
but I still respect you.
You make my throat scratchy
and loosen my poo.

You tighten my stomach,
and make me want to hurl,
and you killed all the martians
in War of the Worlds.

How can I defeat you?
I feel such dismay!
I'm so much bigger
than DNA or RNA!

I have a solution
I know what I'll do!
I'll dispatch Killer T Cells,
and then pity da fools!

I fight you, I fight you!
I know I shall win!
Cus, I'm still undefeated
against bio-pathogens!

TMBG @ Southgate

Holy Cannolli. I went to the best show of my life Tuesday night.

It took me this long to recover and to sort out all the crazy thoughts. It's been two days an I'm still thinking about it.

First of all, it was my favorite band, They Might Be Giants. If you ever have a chance to see them, go. Even if you think they are obnoxious, which many people do. They are such showmen. Second, go see a show at Southgate House in Newport, KY. It's a venue that just exudes charm and is very intimate.

So, what happened? Everything went perfect. My date was a hot brunette named Kristen who stayed sober enough to drive us back. I capitalized on that. I wore my "Tin Man" shirt and my lucky socks. What could possibly go wrong?




I've seen TMBG several times, but I was floored to see that this time they brought a full set of horns! This changed the dynamic completely, enabling them to play some of my faves such as "Museum of Idiots", "Dr. Worm" (the right way), "Spy" and "With the Dark".



Towards the end of the show, John Flansburg comes out with a Bass Drum and he and Linnell performed "Whisteling in the Dark" while modestly threatening members of the close by crowd...




Phone calls from the dead, two encores, Particle Man. I'm at a loss for words.

*For once*

It was awesome.

Bye.

Yay for Bingo-Town!

Yeah boyyyyyyyy!

Hooray for my hometown.

http://www.pierogypocket.com/

They allowed one vote per computer per day. I have access to lots of computers at work. That's all I'm sayin'...

*I stuffed the ballot box like it was a potato & cheddar*

$10,000? That's a lot of "dough". Could buy you a house in Binghamton!

Arf arf!

Farewell Racing Season '07

The 2007 season ended for me with Son of Godzulla, a 75 mile 100 bike, chilly weather hill-fest.

http://www.godzulla.com/

What a weird day, quite blog-worthy. I feel the need to talk about the race and the party separately. Cyclists will be able to tolerate my blabbing about the race. Party folk will like the second part. Partying cyclists might make it through the whole thing.

Race:

We start at 8am from Woodland Mound Park in Cincinnati. It starts and finishes from the same point; a gigantic 1 mile hill (hors category) to the entrance of the park. The race starts with a 30 mile flat portion and the last 45 miles is peppered with back-breaking climbs, none the least of which, the finishing climb into the park.

Weird thing #1: Some dude crashed in the first mile.

The race organizer, Scott (a.k.a. Godzulla) declared the first couple of miles "neutral" so we could get down the hill and through the point where the cop had traffic blocked off. So, since we weren't racing yet, we took it easy down the hill. Well, most of us did anyway. Some goofballs were bombing it. That's not a good idea because there is a sharp 90 degree left hand turn near the bottom. While I was descending, I see some guy bomb past me with the sharp turn approaching. "Easy", I told him. He then proceeded to jam on his brakes, lock up his rear wheel and bit the dust, hard. I took the inside line and avoided him. He looked okay and so I kept riding. But, he tacoed his wheel and that was the end of his day. That must have felt good.

Weird thing #2: The pro showed up, and he hurt us.

Actually, the "hurt us" part isn't so weird. Kirk Albers usually comes to this event and makes it a sort of pro-am. Kirk rode for Jelly Belly many years and now rides for Texas Roadhouse. I think he's bionic.

After the flat portion and a mandatory and very public "we have so many people you can't do nothing about it" roadside pee-break, we hit Thomas hill, which has a portion that kicks up to 28%. After this climb I was able to hang with Kirk and two other riders from Huntington Bank. This soon became 15 or so riders and before long we left the rest of the peleton in our dust.

Each successive climb acted like a distillation, selecting out the weaker climbers. By the time we had grunted through three tough climbs and 35 more miles , I was happy to see it was me, Kirk (holy shit, I hung with Kirk!), two riders from Huntington and a former teammate, Justin. We worked together in a paceline with Kirk dictating his bionic man pace of 25+ mph.

About 10 miles from the finish and on the second climb from the finish, Kirk Albers decides to declare Jihad on us. In the middle of the climb, he just stood up and took off. After the climb, he kept stomping out a insane pace and we just watched him get smaller and smaller and he rode away in the distance. The four of us remaining encouraged each other to work in a paceline and catch him. We thought we could reel him in, but as it turns out, Kirk just stayed out there in the distance, looking as small as a Jelly Belly Jelly Bean. We gave up the chase and he ended up smoking us by four minutes. We decided the four of us were racing for second place. Hey, what can we say? The guy's a pro.

Now, Justin and I are riding with the two Huntington guys, who are teammates. This makes Justin and I sitting ducks. I'm just waiting for them to work together and light us up with an attack. It never happened. The stronger Huntington guy, John talked about his legs feeling crampy, Justin was hanging his head. I was feeling okay and only mildly intoxicated by lactic acid. Maybe, if I was smart, I could snag second...

Wierd thing #3: I attacked early and it (sort of) worked.

We rode a moderate pace and approached the left hand turn to the last mile up the gigundo hill to the finish. We all congratulated each other on a good ride, shared some sort of "see you at the top" salutation and geared down for the climb. I looked John and see he's goofing around with his water bottle. I decide to give it everything I had and in a slow-twitch fit of rage, I almost busted nut sprinting up the first part of the hill. I overhear John say "what's he doing?" and then "Let's go boys". They chased me about half way up the climb, drew me in a bit and then got no closer. Just then, Justin, Mr. Head-Hangin' faker-boy goes dieseling right past me. I tried to make a run on him but he got me at the finish by a few meters.

The turncoat bastard. :) It's all fun. No worries.

I came home third. I was more than happy with that result. Justin is a stud cat 1 and as I've already stated, Kirk Albers is the Bionic Man. I'm content to finish behind them.

This ended a great season for me. And, it makes a guy very thirsty. Which leads to the next portion of my lil' story.

Post-Race Party:

Ever go to a party that made you not feel as strange as you thought you were because there were people there who were much more messed up than you are? It was that kind of party. The race organizer, Scott, is a rather strange fellow. There was a pig head and a goat head displayed on the picnic table. They both ended up being tossed around by drunk people and then made it's way into the campfire in some sort of burnt offering type ritual. There was a statuette of a fertility god.

Lots of outlandish food. I ate a chicken foot. I ate goat meat. I ate antelope or somethin' or ruther. And, what's even more gross...I ate a hot dog.

It's safe to say I was also over-served in the alcohol department. I hung and drank with my teammates for a long time. Had to have some "quiet time" in the car to recover did I.

Yep. I'm discovering that this part was a blur. Kinda makes it hard to blog about. So, I'll just say it was fun, thanks for reading and have a nice day.



Tailwinds!

Bulls NOT Shit!

Look at my alma mater University of Buffalo Bulls:

http://www.mac-sports.com/SportSelect.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=9400&SPID=3802

They are all growed up now. Maybe I was too hard on them back in August. If they win 2 out of 3 of their remaining games, They will probably win the Mid American Conference East division and clinch a birth in a low-profile bowl game, like maybe the Toilet Duck™ Toitey Bowl.

I'm still not giving them any money when they call to beg me, even though my roomate and my brother played for them back during what I will call my "cloudy period" of 1989 thru 1991. I'm still holding a grudge about a parking ticket.

Go Bulls!

That'll jinx 'em for sure.

Nickle and Dime

Yesterday, I found out my department was awarded a $45,000 project to renovate a lab.

Today, I found 15 cents on the floor.

Guess which one I'm more excited about?

I keep a jar in my closet that has all the money I've ever found in my adult life.

I throw away folders that have lab renovation project stuff in them.

I do not, however, keep a jar with all the money I've ever lost in it. That would be pretty hard to do.

I feel myself rambling. So, I think I'll end this blog, right now.

No...now, I'll end it!

Bye.

OK, now I'm done.