text: 02.06.04 1:18 AM
  Stop hitting F5, we're back.
  Now in a format that doesn't require I remember a Chinese cent of html in order to update the page. Commenting's built in, and we can do topic-specific posts that you can filter by.
  So yeah, it's a blog. Shut up. This one's by us, so it's better.
  Also, eventually I'd love to get it to where the main page you're reading this on is the Daily page, but until I make that leap (as it's been a long undertaking to get the daily.sc.com page up to our liking) go ahead and change up the bookmarks you BETTER STILL FUCKING HAVE that lead directly to this page. There will be a big redirect from daily.sc.com to www.sc.com when it's all done so you don't miss out on our terrific goodness.
  Good times, kids. Good times. I'm at work, so what else is there to do but write on a webpage? Congrats to Dredub for his Steelers winning Super Bowl XL, and for proving that the AFC's 6th best team is still better than the NFC's #1 team.
  So, to recap...
  - New Site
  - Update Bookmarks
  - Steelers Win
  - I'm At Work
  - You're Probably Not
  12.21.04 8:26 AM
  Merry Christmas and Shit.
  News Flash: I bought a new car...Then somebody ran into it...now I have it back. Anyway in a slap to the face of style I sold the Brown and Tan Astro Van. No car can compete with the style and luxury provided by that van. After trips to high school, prom, Penn State, countless concerts, sporting events, Best Buy and work, it was time to retire the ride. Around the beginning of the year I realized it was time to start looking for a new car. After countless hours of reading obviously biased reviews on the internet I decided the Accord V6 was the car I needed. When the time was right I swooped in and bought one. I must admit I was spoiled with the van, I could go a whole year and not see a car that could be mistaken for my van. Now I see people with my car on a daily basis and I get angry if I think that person looks like they are a moron or a douche. Needless today my car is no longer a symbol of who I am, I will miss the style and luxury of the Brown and Tan. Fast forward to a month and a half ago, Election Day to be specific. I was driving to the poll in my futile attempt to make a difference in the world when out an alley comes this red truck and for some reason or another the driver did not stop and just plowed into the front of my car. It took a week and a half for the dealer to get my car back to looking like it did before this guy decided he had the right of way pulling out of an alley.
  Flip Flop: First I was drinking coke, and then I wasn’t; now I am drinking coke again.
  The End of an Era: Café Crema, the location of many discussions and the birthplace of the sidewalkcrusaders.com concept has now shut its doors forever. In recent months Café Crema has resorted to an uneven mix of open mic and live band. In most places this might work, however Crema is not suited for this mix. Crema was a place for people to gather and talk or sign(Friday nights was deaf night.) While I still believe the loud music did not deter the deaf people it sure made those people who communicate orally want to never come back. However the end of the Crema Era will ring in the new Denny’s Era. Friday and Saturday nights at Denny’s is where all the action is at. HOB’s Friday Night Fights don have shit on Denny’s sidewalk. Drunk People and Closed bars equal fights, public urination and arrests. Not to mention our buddy Thanh is the security guard, one our parking limits can eat it now, we park as long as we want.
  Neighborhood Watch: So my next door neighbor has become a irritation much like an unwanted rash on the genitals. This girl is spoiled; she ahs lived next to me for a little over a year and is on her 3rd new car. I understand it is petty for me to get all bitter than her parents buy here a new car almost twice a year but I don’t care, I hate that spoiled bitch. Now you may wonder why I have so much hate for this girl. The reason I bring the hate is that when I get home from work my ears are bombarded with the latest and greatest J Lo. CD. This could be acceptable every now and then but the fact of the matter is, the only albums this girl plays are those featuring J Lo. This girl blasts here music and shakes my wall with her Jenny from the Block. Did I complain to her, no, and ill explain why. I am letting my chips stack and when I cash in, this bitch will pay. I am thinking a Hillary Duff & Lindsay Lohan music marathon.
  Tuck out, Miller in, at the Ocho.
  Pepsi Holiday Spice, Ill drink about any soda but I’m not touching this with a ten foot pole.
  Every new band I like breaks up.
  Half the time you call me my phone will ring.
  San Diego sports teams are winning, when did this happen?
  12 is the new 11
  I am now a card carrying member of the ACLU, no really I am.
  We lost the election, I blame republicans.
  The king of pop needs to get some new handlers, after all these allegations he is still having massive 200+ kid parties. I wonder if those kids got porn in their gift bags from Michael or if that latest allegations ruined it for them.
  Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year from all of us at the sidewalkcrusaders.com
  8.01.04 4:06 AM
  THEY USE THOSE PHONES IN PRISONS TO BEAT UNRULY INMATES. REALLY, A FRIEND TOLD ME.
  Pic O' the Day: From the trip to the San Diego Zoo that Kari and I took in March. I'd wear a box on my head, too, if it was socially acceptable.
  Hey, look at this. It's not the same update that's been staring at your pretty faces for the last 11 months.
  Like a great sitcom that glosses over casting changes as if they never happened, I'll do just that. I figure that most everybody who knows me knows what I'm up to, and those who don't couldn't care less. The DAILY was never about personal autobiographical excerpts, it was about me rambling on about random crap, trying to make people laugh. Let's get to it.
  Local News: There was a car accident in South Park the other day. Wait, what? South Park? Where the hell is that? Has this happened to anybody else? I know it's not uncommon for cities to attempt to reduce the size of each community to try and improve community pride, resulting in a better city on the whole. It's also common for planning commissions to name new areas of the city after places where development is starting for the first time. After all, when you move somewhere, and your daughter gets abducted because you were too busy watching a rerun of 7th Heaven on the WB while she was outside playing by herself since you raised her too guardedly and she's unable to make friends on her own, and two years later when her kidnappers are busted by the police, and they raid the shantytown in Thailand where she's been kept as a sex slave, she's got to be able to tell them where she's from. It's good parenting, damnit. But, as I've found out, the South Park in San Diego is just, you guessed it, south of North Park. This is an older part of the city, it's not like they've just developed land there and are building on it. This is old hat, as it were. So, at which point, does a community become a new community? Was there a general consensus of "ya know, this two mile area just has too much diversity to be constrained to one community name, we need something else to distinguish us, the eastern half of this boulevard, from them, the western half"? If so, how do you become so uninvigorated as to end up with South Park instead of something like Greenwood Village or Suntown or something else equally sterile, harmless, and original?
  More Local News: Pacific Beach, a neighborhood that has kept its name despite being larger than a scaled up version of those 36x36 green Lego base plates, welcomed in yet another new entreprenurial effort. This time, it's a sex shop. Rad. When they first opened, they had a banner above their building, as many new establishments do. It said "GRAND OPENING" on it in big, red letters. As is almost always the case, the best comedy is the spontaneous humor, that grows organically from a running joke between friends or a gaff witnessed by a crowd. It is unplanned happenstance that catches us off guard and knocks our funny bones for a loop. Andrew and I saw the "GRAND OPENING" banner...then, as if it was poured slowly into our bodies, we each looked at one another with this "are you thinking the same thing I am?" look on our faces. Upon seeing we were on the same page, we started cracking up.
  (I suppose I'll explain in case you're on that Amish reality TV show and are browsing the internet and are reading this page. If you are, get off that show, it's stupid. Anyway, sex shop = sex = grand opening = opening (of legs, and what lies at the end of that). And it's grand.)
  Just recently, the banner finally came down, replaced with a regular name for their shop which definitely isn't as unintentionally funny. For all I know, it could be a bad pun, like 50% of business names these days are.
  Mexican Food News: In one of my older updates, I ranted about how the price of my usual meal at Santana's went up from $5.50 to $6.50, and how that was it, that I wouldn't be eating there anymore with those prices. About two years and 50 Santana's meals later, I'm hesitant to say the same thing again. Last night, I glanced at their menu to see they'd redone it. Along with new fonts and item positioning, I see that they've gone and jacked the price of the California Burrito up another $0.50 to $4.25. Along with a $2.75 quesadilla (price unchanged in two years), my meal there will now run me $7.00. While that's not a whole lot of money for you folks making the big bucks in the Iraqi reconstruction business, I can get a whole lot more food elsewhere for that price. I can find a decent California Burrito elsewhere, but the quesadilla is usually the dealbreaker. And at places where I can get a good quesadilla, they either don't have a California Burrito at all, or it's got shit like sour cream or lettuce in it, or the place isn't open 24/7/365. I need to hire immigrants to come up and prepare these sorts of meals for me. Or just become president so I have someone on site for this sort of thing.
  Usually, when we think of what we might want to eat, we're limited by our funds or resources. Just think, though, the president can ask for anything, any time, and he can have it. 3:18 AM on a Wednesday? Want some cotton candy? DONE! 5:45 AM on a Sunday, want some orange chicken? FUCKIN DONE!
  Political News: I don't have the energy for this right now, it's kinda late. Just, make sure you press the right thing on the screen/punch the right hole on the card. The last thing anybody needs is to be pressed on their voting history when they're 50, and finding out for the first time that they actually voted for the Nader/Camejo ticket in 2004.
  Decorative News (?): The new hot thing to slap on your Chrysler Voyager or Christian IdontbelieveinbirthcontrolsoIhaveafamilyofsixthoughwelive- frompaychecktopaychecksincewomendontbelongintheworkplacebecausethebiblesayssomobile is really getting out of hand. You know what I'm talking about, those white decals that have each member of the family from tallest to smallest or oldest to youngest with each person's name below them. Usually, if the family's got a pet, they'll be included too, with some goofy-ass face on the dog or cat or turtle. The dad is always exaggerated in some feature, like unusually long legs or a big head or a big torso or big feet. The mom, the trendsetter who most likely came up with the idea (because, ya know, it's so darn cute and shows off our wonderful family), always looks like a seven year old boy's stick figure impression of a hot chick. Straight vertical lines for the torso, no butt, an overly misproportioned busom, and a huge smile. I must say, though, that some variations on this theme always make me giggle inappropriately. Often times, they'll have the family pet with wings on it, or a halo, which I suppose is to indicate that they're fake and haunt the house. Either that, or they're dead. It's probably the latter, but the former's kinda funny. Even better when, instead of a pet, it's a grandma. I know, that's mean. I'm going to hell, and I'll see ya there! On my decal, I'll have flames and horns! Fortunately, this wave of decaldom has taken attention away from the variants of both the 'Calvin pissing on _______' decals and the little boy/girl kneeling and praying decals. At least with the Jesus fish, there's only so much you can do. Jesus, Darwin, Darwin eating Jesus, Jesus eating Darwin, Truth eating Darwin, Logic eating Fiction, etc. No matter what these kings of the novelty car accessory world come up with, they're still confined to an oval. It's a beautiful thing.
  Television News: VH1's "I Remember the '90s" is the latest example of an interesting phenomenon that I'd like to touch on. Do you have trouble remembering the 90s? Does the name A.C. Cowling leave you scratching your head? Is grunge music something you had to look up on the internet to recall? Does a voice saying "I feel your pain" trigger something in your head, but you can't place it? If you're retarded or five, this show's for you! I'm not faulting VH1 for this. In fact, it's quite logical. Capturing nostalgia has been a pasttime since "Happy Days" first aired, though until the early 90s it seemed to exist in small pockets and with limited fanfare. In the early 90s, however, we saw the bellbottoms return. It was time for the 70s yet again. There was that phase, and that lasted for much of the 90s, as we all saw with "That '70s Show." There was still that 20-year chasm which served as enough of a chronological gap to make reminiscing a legitimate activity. In other words, we actually had to be reminded. It was fine. Unfortunately, having witnessed this habit of living in the past, I started thinking that the 80s would have to be next. It started slowly...horizontal striped shirts began to creep back into the fold, as did brown. The color brown. My always-burning passion for the 1984 Padres uniforms has inspired the color of this very website, so I'm as guilty of this as anybody else. Still, though, that's a 20-year gap. It's logical. Retro/throwback sports jerseys went from being a rare novelty to commonplace fashion, as the past and the present merged into one. Music is a mishmash of 80s keyboard no wave synth punk and coke & whores hair rock. I figure that it won't be too long until we start seeing Hypercolor T-Shirts and slap bracelets again. VH1 has jumped the gun a bit with their latest decade recap show, but when the recollection of the past goes faster than real time, you're bound to catch up with yourself eventually. Why do we all have such a hard on for recent history? This said, I'd like to propose that someone help me go into business making cell phones. Unlike the POS Nokia that keeps cutting out on me when I have a full battery and stong signal, I'd like to make Zack Morris-style cell phones. Ya know, these:
  Sure, you need a backpack to carry them around, but they're retro! Zack was cool when he had his! Also, think of all the shit that you could cram into something that size these days. It'd basically be a computer.
  My second business proposition, and the last thing I have for everybody in my return DAILY post, revolves around the iPod. Assuming Apple doesn't have a patent on "small, cigarette pack-sized white boxes," I feel it's my duty to help everybody out who doesn't have $250 to spend on an mp3 player. Unfortunately, everybody knows that the iPod is the new Kaballah bracelet, the hip thing to have and you are a worthless piece of shit if you don't have one accessory. How are you supposed to look cool if you're on a budget? Fortunately for you, cheap ass thrift store shirts and jeans are the in thing, so you've been able to keep looking cool while not having to fellate homeless Vietnam vets down at the VFW for dollar bills here and there. Still, $250 is about a month's worth of paychecks from the vegan co-op on campus that you put in part time shifts at only so you can get close to that girl, Maegin (Megan on her birth certificate, but she'll never tell anyone that), who told you one time that Modest Mouse was a band that she could see herself getting into some day. If you want to even think of having a chance at envisioning an opportunity to take her to that hip indie band showcase, where there will be bands that even YOU haven't heard of, you'll need a Pro Wingsesque iPod knockoff. This is where I come in. I take discarded Altoids cans, dip them in that stuff that they dip the handles of scissors they have in elementary schools in (green, rubbery stuff, but I'd use white), place a fake LCD screen on it, put a headphone jack in it (which doesn't attach to anything inside, since it's an Altoids can), and sell it under some name that's got the first letter lowercased, the second capitalized, and the rest lowercased. $30. No electronics inside at all. Tell people the battery ran out and you need to recharge it, they'll be none the wiser. You'll be in Maegin's pants in no time.
  Now Playing: The Hold Steady - Killer Parties
  Quote Of The Day:
  (Overheard in a grocery store today. Middle aged man says to butcher who's walking back to the butcher area of the store, where there's the sound of a saw...)
  "Are you guys cutting a pumpkin back there?"
  (First, why do you say that to the butcher? They're obviously cutting meat...and a pumpkin? Since when do you use a bandsaw to cut a pumpkin? What type of crazy fuckin Halloween antics does this guy get up to?)
  9.25.03 1:02 AM
  HERE'S TO SINKING THE SHIP AND NOT GIVING A SHIT. HERE'S TO SINKING FAST WITH
  Whew... its been a long time
  eh? I back, that's right I have returned from seclusion in my Sony provided
  bunker. I have been working non stop since my last update. no lie. In fact
  I believe it was my birthday (August 18th for those who didn't know) that I took
  a half day off of work and decided to get a haircut and a Oil Change, you know
  Birthday things. From what I remember from my childhood I expected to get
  some stupid dollar off discount at these places because it was indeed my
  birthday. Apparently the good people at Valvoline and J.J. Barber do not
  subscribe to the same Birthday Freebie/Discount policy I anticipated. Back to
  the CRUX of my story. As I was driving around Pacific Beach I realized, I
  had completely missed summer this year. Summer had come and gone with not
  so much as giving me a phone call to come out and enjoy its splendor. Needless
  to say, I was bummed. But due to my recent addiction to NPR the soothing voices
  of public radio soon made me forget all my troubles.
  So, What's up
  with the picture of the day you ask. Well for those of you who haven't been able
  to tear yourselves away from the B-Lo and Beniffer wedding news Ill sum up
  what's going on. A while back Kobe Bryant, whom you may remember from his
  nationally televised crying when the Lakers did not with the NBA championship,
  Allegedly Raped/Sexually Assaulted this young Colorado woman. Well as you
  know like any good American I took interest in the downfall of popular rich
  people. Knowing this my mother purchased this wonderful Kobe Bryant Christmas
  ornament for me. As you can tell by Kobe's face, the humor in this gift
  was not lost on me. The next day I took Kobe to work where the basketball was
  carefully removed from Kobe's Rape Grip. Once the ball was free and no
  longer in danger of being a victim of Kobe, we began to search for things in the
  office that Kobe could safely mount. a few Dinosaurs and TVs later we came
  across the funniest and most offensive object we could find. BUDDY JESUS. We had
  Kobe mounting Jesus but it somehow didn't sit right with us. then we figured out
  what was missing. Jesus may be a team player but he doesn't want to go the
  whole game without the Ball, I mean after that Triple Double he had the other
  night he wants the rock. He thinks he is on the way to be a starter in the
  all-star game. after all he doesn't think Kobe will be a threat this year. in
  fact he told the San Diego Tribune that "Kobe cant score from jail, at least not
  in the way that will get him on the all star team, this isn't high school
  The other day
  I was in Pittsburgh on a "business" trip, okay it wasn't so much business as it
  was an all out vacation. I was enjoying my time at the local Boarders,
  looking at their wide selection of CDs, DVDs and Literature. At the same time
  that I was browsing the shelves I was being what the President calls Extra
  Vigilant. I was being Extra Vigilant, you know doing my part to keep America
  safe in this post 9/11 world where the neighbor, who lives next to you who has
  been forgiving of your blaring music and barking dog, is quite probably a Al
  Queda sleeper cell. As I was being Extra Vigilant I noticed an elderly lady
  enter the store, She passed my Terrorist test and I deemed her to be not a
  threat. I did notice the sweatshirt she was wearing... Granny was wearing a
  shirt that stated "Worlds Best Grandmother." This of course came to me as a
  disturbing revelation. Up till this point I had though that my grandmothers were
  deadlocked in a tie with each other for worlds best grandmother, no contest.
  but apparently the contest had already taken place and neither of my
  grandmothers were given the title. How could this be I thought, I had no idea
  that there had been a official contest in which a shirt would be awarded.
  I mean how else could this woman attain this shirt. I find it hard to
  believe that they just give these away to anyone. As I returned to my
  grandparents house from boarders I made the decision not to break the news to my
  Grandmother. I figured there was no need to be the barer of bad news.
  another exciting edition of Me interviewing Myself.
  ( I was given the questions in
  Welcome back, Missed ya.
  Me: Thanks, its good to be back, I hope I didn't miss much
  Andrew: What have you been
  listening to lately, aside from NPR
  Me: Well, Rocket From The Crypts album Live From Camp X-Ray has been in my car
  alot also I have been playing the new Less Than Jake album called Anthem. both
  albums are great.
  Andrew: You still driving
  that Brown and Gold Van?
  Me: Yes. Yes I am if you have a problem with it you can go Fu..
  Andrew: WHOA!!! no offence
  intended. I was just making sure you didnt sell out and get a new mustang or
  something crappy like an X-Terra. So, changing topics, What up wid da Recall?
  Me: It's a joke. Apparently California saw Florida starting to pull ahead in the
  lead for biggest concentration of fruitcakes and some Republican decided that he
  wanted our state to be seen as the craziest state in the union.
  Andrew: How was your trip
  back to PSU
  Me: Great, Great People, Great Football, I couldn't ask for more. Big Ups and
  shout outs to my friends in the 16802.
  Andrew: You have been
  watching a lot of soccer lately, what are you European?
  Me: Hell No. I am just one of the million people around the world who are draw
  to soccer because of its Fast Kicking, Low Scoring, and Ties Ties Ties!!!!
  Andrew: So what's up with
  your guitar playing
  Me: Uhhh, I need to practice.......A lot. Uhhh I got to go, This interview is
  Now Playing: Foo Fighters - Down In The Park
  Quote Of The Day: (dumb looking college girl outside of Best Buy) Girl: Hi, I'm
  not weird, I am just in a contest for school, do you guys have two minutes to
  help me out? Me: Get a job grouch. ( at this point she retreated to stand
  in the parking space she had been standing in prior to our arrival)
  9.23.03 4:47 AM
  YES, I CAN DEFINITELY HEAR YOU NOW, AND NOW I CAN HEAR THE OTHER PERSON TOO, YA BITCH.
  Pic O' the Day: If you've never been to Las Vegas, this photo from McCarran
  International Airport pretty much sums it up. Gaudy lighting architecture,
  slow-moving people, shady-looking characters, carpet that would be seen only in
  the Las Vegas city limits, and NO CLOCKS. Even in the airport, where you think
  people would demand they arrive and depart on time and would enjoy seeing clocks
  that help them in this venture, NO CLOCKS. Bitchin.
  First, I know I never finished my writeups for my top dozen albums of 2002. This
  was due to my being a lazy SOB. Despite not updating in close to 5/6th of a year, I
  guess some things never change! Fortunately, Dredub let everybody know I was
  still alive by updating in March. I assume I'd be on the side of milk cartons,
  being ignored by the Sidewalk Crusaders, as I rarely drink milk, and Andrew
  doesn't drink milk at all. I don't think he's lactose intolerant, though he may
  just not take any grief from dairy. Dairy shenanigans do not rank high with him.
  In classic middle class American family fashion, I'll kick this off by ignoring
  my negligence of the site, and go straight to the meat & potatoes, the thing
  that brings in the readers...
  No longer is SC.com being hosted by Brad Raistrick Hosting (aka my own
  computer). We've packed up and rerooted with a company called Crappy Hosting,
  who are anything but. Good stuff. Because of this, we'll be able to put up mp3s,
  videos, all that good stuff, and not worry about bandwidth concerns. Hopefully
  you'll see the results of this newfound bandwidth and speed soon.
  More importantly, in a nutshell (hah, yeah right), here's what's on my plate at the moment:
  Dating News (HOLY SHIT YEAH I KNOW BUT REALLY, JUST READ IT, IT'S TRUE): I hooked myself a catch of a lady, whom we'll call "Kari." Because it's her
  name. In my 22.9 years on this blue/green/brown marble, I've never been happier.
  But, she knows this, I'm telling everybody this so they know what the heck's up
  with me. More importantly, it's so all you broads will just BACK DA FUCK OFF.
  I'm taken. Get the picture!! It's a long-distance thing, which is hard, but it's kinda like being in prison...a lot of phone contact, chats, that sort of
  thing...and the conjugal visits are cool. Oh, and the
  axillism. She'll be here on Thursday, sickness permitting. To say I'm giddy
  is an understatement. I'm currently working on ways to mislead the paparazzi,
  which include making dinner reservations at multiple locations on the same
  nights and backdoor exits from hotels and the aforementioned dining
  establishments. It's hard bribing this many snooty Frenchmen on my salary,
  believe you me.
  School News: I'm done with school, finally. Now I just need to get that embossed
  piece of paper with a computer-generated signature from a stuffy white Canadian,
  and I'll be all set. I owned my Israeli politics class, which was significantly
  easier than I was expecting. Perhaps five years of this stuff makes it seem more
  routine over time! Fortunately, my professor experimented with the time-honored
  tradition of 'mailing it in.' I'll explain what that means now:
  Mailing It In - putting the bare minimum, often less, into a project,
  assignment, or duty. We were scheduled to have 14 classes over the course of the
  session. Would have been 15, but Labor Day reared its ugly head. Damn the
  working man. The first two weeks of class (six classes in all, 12 hours) could
  be summed up by this detailed breakdown:
  11:00 - 11:15 am: professor strolls about the front of the class, lamenting the
  distance from his office to the classroom. Pulling at heavy cotton shirt to cool
  himself down, clodding around in what appear to be nothing short of those
  sandals the ladies wear with the bricks attached to the bottom. They're not
  really bricks, but you know what I'm talking about. Nothing more attractive than
  a middle-aged Israeli guy sweating from every nook, crevice, and cranny, and
  getting a front-row view of it all for fifteen minutes.
  11:16 - 11:30 am: eases his way ("like an old man into a warm bath" - Seinfeld)
  into the day's lesson, which begins on topic, and stays that way for anywhere
  from three to seven minutes, at which point the historical instruction quickly
  takes a left turn into Modern Day Land. This is okay, though, as you'll see in a
  11:31 - 12:00 pm: weaves historical and modern day parallels in and out of each
  other like an elderly Navajo craftsman, with a just as good grasp on the English
  language. (Yes, I'm well aware of the irony there, that I completely butchered
  my grammar in a sentence 'dissing' the professor's verbal language skills, but
  it's this kind of blind ignorance of faults that keeps you coming back to the
  page, no? Let's move on.) This part of the class was rather educational, and was
  where I had most of my questions answered about the Israeli system that I felt
  unequipped by in the past not knowing.
  12:01 - 12:10 pm: professor's words - "It's hot, let's take a ten-minute break,
  go wash your face, get a drink of water." There was a student who always fell
  asleep, something the prof did NOT like, and rightly so. He'd stand over this
  student, and when he woke up, say "you need to go wash your face now, please do
  so or leave my classroom." The word choice, obviously the result of a language
  or cultural barrier, always cracked me up. He made it sound like the guy was
  both narcoleptic and a dirty bum. Perhaps he was? We'll never know.
  12:10 - 12:50 pm: MOVIE TIME! Some old dude who's probably dead or dying now
  narrates a six-part video on the history of the Israeli people, spanning all six
  classes in the first two weeks of the course. We got a full hour on the
  Holocaust, which is always tough to watch, but intriguing in the same way that
  everything on the History Channel is watchable at 2:45 am. Because everything is
  digested easier when in TV form (see: C-SPAN vs Talk Radio, or
  Creflo Dollar Ministries1
  vs religious programming on shitty AM radio stations that only come in when
  everything else doesn't. You think I'm crazy, but remember that next time you're
  in Bumscrew, Montana, and you're sick of listening to that Led Zeppelin box set
  for the fifth time in a row and want to scan the radio dial. Nothin' but god.),
  it was a very efficient way of zipping through 2,000 years of Jewish history
  with a decidedly pro-Israeli slant. Not unexpected, but I would have loved to
  have alternated Israeli and Palestinian classes, just to take in both sides.
  1 I was going to say "or MC Hammer
  Ministries" there, since he had (has?) his own gospel show on BET at really odd
  times of the day, but mchammer.com doesn't resolve. How sad is that, Hammer
  can't even afford his domain name any more! :(
  HAHAHAHAHA moving on...
  In the following two weeks of class, we took a midterm simpler than any other in
  my collegiate career and covered the modern Israeli political system. He then
  left on a conference for two classes, and with the Labor Day holiday thrown in
  made it a solid 3 classes missed. If you're scoring at home, that's 20% of the
  classes cancelled. Again, mailing it in. The final was a take-home, extremely
  open-ended and hard to get wrong. Seeing as I passed, I must have gotten it
  right. God forbid I take the time out of my schedule to go pick up my paper...
  Work News: Work's moving along swimmingly. I wish I was allowed to tell
  everybody about what games I've been fiddling around with recently, and how much
  fun I've been having these past few days on them, but the toughguy
  confidentiality agreement prevents me from doing such things. The work's pretty
  routine at the moment (that's a good thing, believe me), I like who I work with
  (with the few exceptions that exist at every job), I have weekends off for
  football (seriously...does that make me pathetic or what?), and when it comes
  down to it I get paid to play video games. Yes, I have plans to not do that
  forever, but I'm tired of discussing that with everybody who asks me how
  school's going, to which I tell them I'm done, and then go into the
  post-undergraduate educational planning discussion.
  Now, less of me, here's more traditional SC.com fare!!
  Political News: I love how, more and more every day, this California circlejerk
  of a recall is being compared to the Florida debacle. As you know, if there's
  one thing I pride myself on, it's being better than Florida in every way. Now,
  with this embarrassment of the "true democratic way" of California politics,
  we're stuck with a roided Austrian who wants to be the "next cabana of
  cauliflower." At least that's what it sounds like he's saying, hell if I know.
  Fortunately, my state appears to be salvaging itself from the jaws of the
  Sunshine State's reputation, as support for the recall is riding at around 53%,
  falling slowly but steadily since early August, and likely to dip to less than
  50% by Halloween at the latest. We'll know tomorrow if the election will be
  postponed, though it's in the democrats' best interest if it goes on as planned.
  Unfortunately, the lawsuits and legal actions were taken early on, when it
  appeared Davis would be ousted with ease, and are just now coming to fruition as
  the momentum is on the dems' side. See, folks, this is where the real humor
  comes in. If we trust the polls to be accurate as they stand right now, this is
  what would happen: Davis packs up and leaves, and Cruz Bustamante (love that
  name) is our new governor. That's right, we replace a moderate democrat with a
  democrat further to the left. If you listen closely, you can hear the ghost of
  Ronald Reagan spinning in his grave.
  Oh, he's not dead? I'll make a call.
  That same ghost, coincidentally, is the campaign manager for Arnold. I'm not
  even going to attempt to spell his last name. Can you imagine, a state in which
  more than 80% of its residents probably wouldn't be able to spell their
  (Okay, so I went and checked it out, and it's easy to break down...Schwarz -
  kinda like "use da schwartz!" from Spaceballs. E - it's a letter. It's the
  anchor between the first and third parts of the name. The third is negger -
  close to a bad word, but it still works to remember the spelling. Schwarz + e +
  negger = Schwarzenegger.)
  Needless to say, I hope the election goes through this November, so we can wrap
  this shit up and get back to the real issue at hand, Bush's crazy war antics.
  Latest news has him LOSING 49-46% to newcomer Wesley Clark in the latest poll,
  and 48-47% to John Kerry. This cracks me up. I've waited two years for Bush to
  slip up, and his "let's go to war...proof? nah, screw it, waaaaar!" mantra is
  finally wearing thin on a public that needed, coincidentally, two years to
  realize that any president would have sent military to Afghanistan and Iraq,
  would have funded the shit out of the military, and would have watched the
  domestic economy slide to pre-Clinton numbers. The difference, however, is that
  there's a right, intelligent, well-planned way to do these things, and the
  Bush/Rove way, and this country's actually realizing that it doesn't take a
  god-fearing Texan with a thirst for oil and a bold and condescending supporting
  cast keeping the country in a cute little box of blind patriotism to run the
  country and lead it through wars and bad economies.
  Okay, just wanted to get that out. One more issue for the day.
  Technology News: I first saw them in Nextel commercials, but I'm seeing them now
  in Verizon ads, and I think one or two other places. I'm afraid it means they're
  going to grow increasingly more popular. You know what I'm talking about.
  Those goddamn walkie talkies.
  Perhaps I'm just "out of it" or "not down with what's up" or "a fuckin nerd" or
  "rational," but could someone please email me at
  wattershed[at]rocketmail[dot]com and tell me what the purpose is of these
  annoying toys? And yes, I consider them toys. Allow me to cite a fellow by the
  name of "Eman," who replied to a news article about this horsecrap:
  Perhaps I just used
  them wrong, or whatever, but I always thought that walkie-talkies were something
  like training wheels for kids, for when they began to answer the phone. In the
  military, that's different; you need a direct signal contact, and cellphone
  towers are few and far between in the hills of Kabul - but even now the military
  uses modified cellular phones, if I'm not mistaken. We used walkie-talkies as
  kids because they just cost the price of batteries, and it was just myself and
  my buddy who had access to them. I fondly remember playing hide & go seek on
  bikes where I used to live, with two working pairs of walkie-talkies. Each team
  had a pair, and it was great to maneuver around this expansive maze of mobile
  and motor homes trying to track down or avoid the other team. But, I grew up.
  Walkie-talkies didn't have that fluid communication ability, and you found
  yourself saying "are you done? over." "what? over." "are you done, you didn't
  say 'over,' over." "oh, right, yeah, I'm done." "over? over." "yeah, over.
  over." "okay, over." That's where our friend, the telephone, comes back in. It's
  been doing the job, and rather efficiently, for a couple decades now, and I
  *think* it's here to stay. For some reason, though, the scholars at Nextel have
  found it necessary to hype up these walkie-talkies, most notably in these
  annoying commercials starring Dennis Franz and Dennis Franz's ass. Before we
  continue, I'd like to get a few things straight...
  1) Only one person can talk at a time, with a delay between each person talking,
  just like with old-timey walkie-talkies?
  2) They have the option of beeping every time before you say something, and
  before the other person talks as well? And this is the default working option?
  3) You can randomly call anybody on the Direct Connect service, kinda like
  Instant Messenger but with a walkie-talkie?
  Again, someone want to tell me why this is a genius fucking idea? And better
  yet, why in the holy hell you'd be apt to purchase such a device for daily usage
  in public? I was incredibly irked when, while trying to enjoy my numero tres y
  quesadilla inside el Cotixan a few weeks back, two gentlemen sat at a table near
  the front of the restaurant. No, I wasn't irked that two guys sat at the front
  of the restaurant, let me finish. They were having a conversation, when their
  table started beeping; more specifically, the walkie-talkie on the table started
  beeping. I wouldn't say it was loud, but when it beeped it was clearly audible
  over the low rustle of a moderately filled dining establishment combined with
  the hubbub of a Mexican food restaurant kitchen. One of the gentleman began
  conversing with the person on the walkie-talkie (I REFUSE to call it a phone),
  and much of the restaurant could hear their conversation. I tried to listen in,
  as I feel it's a fair exchange for the rudeness of using one of these in a
  restaurant, but I was back too far in the restaurant to pick up every word.
  Nonetheless, this conversation continued as they ate, and his right hand
  alternated between pushing a button on his walkie-talkie and holding his taco.
  Heh, I said 'holding his taco.' Heh. Um, yes. Wouldn't it be easier to get a
  phone with a headset thing on it? Or at least the earbuds with the
  speakerphone-esque intercom thingamabobber on the front? Ya know, those things
  that make you look like you're a crazy person when you're walking along talking
  to yourself? At least those things help the mentally disturbed mesh into society
  better. They may hear voices coming from the pockets of their disheveled winter
  coats, but you slap an earbud on em and a wire running down from it, and
  suddenly they're guys and gals on the go! It's a gift to society, really.
  I suppose "DJ McQueen" sums up my thoughts best in his reply to our friend
  "Eman" above in the pink text:
  That's what I mean
  too, DJ McQueen. That's what I mean too.
  Oh, and one last excerpt, as this is too damn good to pass up. Let's all thank
  "mikey" for this nugget of technological (and mathematical) insight:
  Right now there's a
  retarded teenager with a walkie-talkie randomly calling people across the
  country. He could be your neighbor, you never know. You could be next. If you do
  talk to mikey, make sure to remind him every four minutes that, were he calling
  you via regular cell phone, it'd be costing him a dollar every 4
  minutes...that's 25 CENTS A MINUTE@!!
  Now Playing: The Constantines - On To You
  Quote Of The Day:
  (From Nextel's "Mobile Phone Etiquette" webpage)
  "10. Discuss cell phone manners with friends and family members. Tell them that
  you are practicing new wireless phone etiquette rules and offer to share them."
  (If any of you ever do this to me in a serious tone, be prepared to purchase a
  new phone, as your current phone will be under my foot, then under my car's
  tires, then in your trash can.)