You Want a Beer?

When I heard that at the ungodly early morning of glorious 11:00, I cringed and wanted to gag. Like I have said many times before, it just seems like the Addison stop on the red line is my second home.

It all started last night at Aarthi's. We were supposed to grill, but generally you do not want to grill with an empty tank of propane gas. So we went ghetto and busted out the George Foreman grill. That was just too hilarious. The plan all along for me was to just eat, chill, and go home. But somehow, Matt and Maria did just that, and I went to Joe's Bar to catch Too White Crew.

Damn!

It went from a night when I wanted to relax to a night of drunken stupidity. Without boring you to tears, this is quick version of what happened: Ran into Kathy. Got beer. Saw Kelly and Cari. Played some pop quiz. {And the answer was "YES."} Met Mark, Kathy's new boy and he is tall! Waited at the front bar till Too White Crew started playing. Got more beer. Danced to Too White Crew. Got more beer. Got strangely fixated on the fly girls. Too White Crew took a half-time break. Stage had the booty contest. Picked Erin up and threw her on the stage. Saw Aarthi wanting to go up too. So I threw her up there as well. Arms tired all of a sudden. Saw some nice ass shakin'. Ooooo! Aarthi and Erin made it to third round. Bob got beer. Erin made it to the final round with some skanky, ugly girl. Ugly girl won. Boo. Erin got a Got Back tank as prize. Drank more beer. We got drunk. Got more beer. Almost got kicked out of the bar by some dumb ass bouncer. {Screw him!} Danced some more. Erin slipped and fell. Drank way more. Got in a cab and headed for burrito central.

And here is when everything got sketchy. Thanks to Aarthi's play by play review, I can happily tell you this. I could not walk worth shit. Cliff had to guide me. Each of us got the gigantic one pound burrito. Walked to Aarthi's. Or more like J-Ho stumbled there. Crashed on the couch. The others ate burrito. I curled up with my burrito on the couch. {Mmm. Sounds warm and comfy.} Fell out of the couch. Not once, but only three times. {By this point, I think Aarthi may be making up stories. ;-) } Ran upstairs to puke. Crawled back downstairs with Peanut to see who can descend more gracefully. Damn cat won. I begged for Ibuprofen. {Shit, I don't even take that stuff, so why was I begging for it?!?} Aarthi fed me Advil.

Next thing I knew, Amy was cooking breakfast and I was in a world of pain. And my elbow stung like a mother-effer. Hmm. I have a huge, bloody gash wound. Ate my burrito. Took another Advil. {Thank you, Wyeth Pharmaceuticals!} Decided that my stinky, morning breath; heavy hangover; overall body ache as if I just ran a marathon; and the drizzling rain all are signs for me to skip the Pride Parade and head home.

And that brings us to the northeast corner of Addison and Sheffield. A cute couple was walking, and the hot chick asked her boy toy, "You want a beer?" And my burrito wanted to come back out. I swore to Christine I will never ever drink again. Six months in the making... My first puking incident due to beer in 2006. What a way to go! Encore!

For those of you who read the entire blog and got to the bottom, I reward you with the booty contest videos! =) Enjoy!

Hey Jealousy

So! So much for the freaking easy week I was supposed to take before my last day at my company. And I freaking worked Thursday into Friday morning, with a two hour reprieve between 08:00 and 10:00! Ugh!

So with lack of sleep hanging over my head, I worked my butt off the rest of the day. I had a choice of crashing or utilizing my $20 concert ticket and hang out. And I chose to go jam at the zoo. Interesting. Two years I have been here in Chicago, and I have never been to the zoo. And the first time I ever did go, I went and saw Gin Blossoms. Ah... There is absolutely nothing wrong with a classic rock ‘n roll band. Especially on the first summer weekend of 2006. Of course, nobody could tell it was summer time, cos it was cold!!!

After getting our beer and wine being knocked off while sitting on our lawn area, we decided to go to the Halligan Bar. Mostly because John Barleycorn had a huge line that freaking wrapped around the corner. Holy moly! And that was when I noticed the Chipotle, and realized that I was so totally there for Saint Patrick's Day! {Chipotle: noun. The best American bastardized fast Mexican food in America, where you will not find a single Mexican eating there, besides working there. =) } Who can ever forget the two burritos I got that night after drinking away to Irish music at the Halligan Bar? Fun times and memory.

And thanks to Liz, who introduced me to the Melrose Restaurant over a year ago, I went just there to nurse my wicked hangover. Huevos Calliente. I think that is my new favorite food there. Of course, I may as well totally change my mind tomorrow morning when I wake up, depending on how I feel.

As usual, the Red Line was tardy. I think I have spent more time at the Addison platform in all of my time spent here in Chicago than anywhere else. Seriously! ;-) Okay, gotta go catch some Z's after not sleeping last night. Peace out!

2 Year Anniversary

June 21, 2006. Two years ago today, or yesterday since it is technically June 22 now, marked the day I moved to Chicago with a U-Haul truck filled with my personal belongings and signed the closing documents on my condo. Exciting? Possibly. Worth partying? Probably not.

I did not even realize that it was an anniversary of some significance until a phone conversation with Erin right before lunch. I was simply lamenting about my condo, and she asked how long I have lived here. Then I juggled between over two years and right about two years, until I noticed the clock reading June 21. Yup! Two years!

Wow! A lot have changed since then, even though it isn't really that long of a time. I was going to check out some fireworks at Navy Pier, but decided to go to Christine's friend Sherry's place for some barbeque. Let's see... For someone who is a wicked cook who can whip up amazingly delicious food, I definitely did not want to miss out on this opportunity.

So what did I do to celebrate my second anniversary for being in Chicago? A couple glasses of Syrah; a couple grilled, marinated chicken breasts; ‘shrooms; tossed salad; lots of strawberries; and shots of Bushmills Irish Whiskey. Not a bad way to go at all. Besides, the dinner party was for somebody else who was either visiting town or some sort of a baby shower thing. I doubt it was a baby shower, but there sure were lots of kids roaming around with gifts of baby clothes being passed around.

In any case, I simply reveled quietly within myself in this gorgeous afternoon, thinking to myself, what a great decision I had made to move to Chitown. And it can't get any better knowing that in just a few days, I will start a new chapter with IBM. Perhaps I should have had more shots of Bushmills. =)

A Modern Noah's Ark?

I used to read Dvorak's columns when I was in college. Ah, that was the time when I subscribed to a gazillion magazines and did most of my reading on paper, instead of my monitor.

Recently, I was made aware by one of his latest mention about a huge project going on in Norway. The Seattle Times reported a huge project is under way there that will, when completed, collect millions of seeds from nations around the world starting next year. And then this giant vault will be locked and protected by polar bears, till in case of doomsday, whatever form it comes in, that will wipe out our crops.

Apparently agriculture is nothing more than selective breeding by us humans for tens of thousands of years. We grow crops that we want and eat, and then leave the rest to nature. So this project, led by the Global Crop Diversity Trust, sounds like a great and worthwhile undertaking. But if doomsday does occur, are we then left to become vegetarians? Hee hee hee. I would not have a problem with that. =)

As great as this international project sounds, I am left to wonder if it is money well spent. According to José Esquinas-Alcázar, a top official at the UN Food and Agriculture Organization in Rome, humans historically have utilized more than 7,000 plant species to meet their basic food needs. But now, in this modern day and age, the majority of humans live on only 12 plant species, according to research by the Food and Agriculture Organization!

You can thank modern capitalism that forced us to eat bland, homogenous vegetables. Well, in terms of plant species, of course. In the world of capitalism where profit is the only goal, corporations have driven out family farming and turned to large-scale, mechanized farming. The result? Only 150 plant species are under cultivation in the world today.

So maybe a global catastrophe would be good for humankind. We can then return to eating diversified food, and corporations in the food and agriculture industry will vanish. But of course, I only wish for a low impact global catastrophe, like extreme climate change that will kill the crops and not us humans, as opposed to something like raining humongous meteors that will wipe us out entirely. =)

Okay, enough banter on the evils of modern capitalism. And a shameless plug from my suppressed Asian gene: There are more than 100,000 varieties of rice alone! Just knowing that makes me hungry. ;-)

I am old. Can you hear this?

Last Tuesday, while working at a client site in Baltimore, Maryland, my friend Dustin at C e r n e r sent me an email with an article from the New York Times, as well as an MP3 ringtone file. I played the file, but could not hear a thing. But Doug, a client personnel sitting in the next cube, stood up and wondered what the hell was going on. I was shocked! I could not hear anything, but he could! I am only 28, and Doug, to my best guesstimation, is in his mid 30's. After all, he has a daughter close to teenage years.

Now why is age of any relevance to the topic at hand? There is a supposed rate of presbycusis that on average, people over 25 start losing their ability to hear high pitched sounds above 17 kHz range. And it only gets worse over time. For comparison purposes, the highest note on a piano is 4 kHz!

Well, the MP3 profiled in the New York Times article is a popular ringtone among high school kids. Mostly because it is inaudible to most adults! So if you can hear the ringtone, kudos to you as you do not have an advanced stage of presbycusis, unlike my old, deaf self. =)

A Sunday First

Okay... Barring from last year’s fourth of July Sunday, this is the first time ever since I have moved to Chicago where I stayed out late at a bar on a Sunday night till one in the freaking morning. And I am so wasted. Ah... My frist drunken blog. Damn Microsoft Word that keeps on fixing my spelling mistakes. What a good feeling to have no care in the world, drinking Greek wine, and going to a bar with someone. And best of all? Nikki showed up! How kickass is that? Okay, somebody stop spinning my room...

Accidental Trip

So about a week ago, I was just mosing around killing time and reading up stuff on the Internet. I tell ya, it's the best invention to come along for the American productivity! No shame here, as we are the only freaking nation where Corporate America is deathly afraid of the V word. And that V word would be "vacation." So yeah, no shame in saying that the Internet is probably one of the best things since sliced bread to balance out the over-worked lifestyle we all are forced into.

Anyway, my friend Santi from high school keeps an interesting group of friends, and as such I tend to read her blog as well as her friends' whenever I have the time. While balancing my life between constant work and personal life, I tripped over a band called Office in Amanda's blog. And whatcha know, they are from here! Chicago! So I checked them out on MySpace. Thank God for MySpace. Another thing I can thank Al Gore for. ;-)

Seeing that Office was going to play at the Empty Bottle Friday night, I made it a point to check them out. And oh my gosh! I love them. They have a great balance of everything I look for in an alternative rock band, although they probably wouldn't label themselves that. When I heard them rock out, I thought to myself, "Wow, they are like Oasis, Moby, Offspring, and other rock bands rolled into one; except they are way better!" It is sad that Holly and Liz had to bail earlier, considering that they had something to do early the next morning and there were two other bands headlining Office.

But yeah, I have found another band worth going ape over! And what a great accidental find. So thank you Amanda, even though I barely know you in person, except from your daily musings on Gore's contribution to society {besides the inconvenient truth}. =)

Fight or Flight - A 20 Minute Experience

This week, I am in Baltimore, Maryland. And if you have known me a little, or at least about my "excursions" to multiple client sites in the past, you would have guessed that I am back at the client site where I have to deal with a complacent and unmotivated people, thus causing much delay in my project and over the budget. And that is why I had to work till 00:30 {past midnight} following a full Wednesday of work.

Well, let me share with you the good part about working at a client office till late. I get to wander around the area with not a single soul present. And as such, I can rummage for snacks left lying around in other peoples' candy jars. Of course, the downside is that I would gain weight from all the Skittles, bite size chocolates, and the sorts. And the other thing is that I get to look through personal pictures hung on their cubicle makeshift walls.

To my surprised pleasure, I came upon an extreme dog lover's cubicle. And as I looked through her or his personal effects, I chuckled at each cute little find. Now, mind you, I love dogs. Probably more so than cats, especially since I am allergic to cats. But this person just outright hates cats, and was not afraid to show it. Let me illustrate with my wonderful cell phone camera:

baby eating kitten


various posters / clippings on the east wall


tabby tote advert


final exit for cats literature on the west end


an instructional sheet on the main façade


a larson's cartoon


an emergency tool in case of hunger


And what I found extremely funny was her or his cube mate had hung up a Hello Kitty balloon on their shared wall!!! Ha ha ha!

Now, onto the bad part of working late into the night, especially since I had to walk to and from work through downtown in a city like Baltimore. Sadly, the IT office of my client is actually in the same long building as the main office of the Baltimore Orioles at Camden Yards. It is adjacent to the ball park. Although downtown and Inner Harbor are nice during the day with bustling business people, convention visitors and tourists, at night those people simply vanish. And in its place are sketchy people, mostly homeless. Now, I am not scared of homeless people, and I do believe that they are harmless for the most part, but you still have to be cognizant and aware of your surroundings and what may happen.

I did not want to have any situation go horribly wrong for me. All it takes is for someone to approach you for whatever reason, and if he or she is desperate enough, one may turn violent even to one's own surprise. This is the first time in over five years of traveling where I felt that I had to take precautionary measures.

Nobody but me knew that my nice-looking watching is only just that - nice looking and cheap. But it is shiny enough that someone might perceive it to be of some value. So I took it off and put it in my pocket. Then I took out my phone and pressed 9-1-1 and clutched it in my hand. Throughout the entire walk, I had my thumb on the Send button. I peered into every dark corner and shady area surrounded by bushes. Mostly I saw homeless people sleeping away, and a few sketchy people who decided not to bother me. Phew!

It was late, and I was tired. But after walking at a quick pace for about twenty minutes whilst startling to any unusual sound that had occurred, I am now just relieved. It was not a good experience having to be on edge for that long, while having adrenaline pumping heavily and thinking, "If something was to go down, should I run or fend myself?" Fight or flight; a basic human response. As basic as it gets to nature, it was sure stressful and mentally taxing; more so than having worked the entire day and night!

Revenge of the Nerds

So today, or technically yesterday - Monday, I worked my butt off in Wilmington, then made a mad dash for the airport to come home to Chicago so I can get a fresh set of clothing and underwear, and turned right around back to Midway so I can fly out to Baltimore. The flight was delayed due to bad weather in the Baltimore vicinity.

When I finally got here, the rental car shuttles were overwhelmed by the sudden influx of passengers who themselves were delayed. And for the first time I have ever seen at BWI, there was a humongous, snaking line waiting for the shuttle. Great! I have to be at work first thing in the morning, and I just landed at 00:30!

Finally I got to Hampton Inn in Inner Harbor Baltimore around 01:20, and to my disbelief, they have no room for me. What? Let’s see. I have made a reservation a long time ago. And I am a Diamond VIP Hilton member. And I have no room? Well, the property assistant general manager decided early Monday morning to strand about 30 people who, like me, also had reservations. Some of them are also Diamond VIP Hilton members too!

Despite my rage in this spent day that have practically drained the life out of me, I was courteous to Patrice, the front desk girl, and I told her that I was extremely pissed, but not at her because she had nothing to do with it, but I wanted this resolved. Emile, the AGM, wasn’t there, and he had printed out about 30 copies with directions to another property which he had made arrangements with: the Holiday Inn clear the f**k out of Baltimore! The rate was $129, and Hampton Inn will pay only for the first night.

Wait a minute. I am stranded out here without forewarning, and he decided to dump me at some craptastic hotel {sorry, I have never had a good experience with Hellishday Inn}, and only cover for one night when I have made a reservation for the week. And on top of that, I have to deal with the hour long commute each way to work. What the hell?

To make matters worse, Patrice at the front desk decided to tell me the true story, since I was unlike the other patrons who yelled and cussed at her before storming out to Hellishday Inn clear the f**k in tinbuctoo. Here’s the story. Godspeed is a recreation of one of the three ships that first brought the English colonists to Jamestown in 1607. This recreated ship is here in the Inner Harbor from June 9 (Friday) to June 12 (Monday, the evening of when I was supposed to check in), and the celebration also called for a “Landing Party Festival.” Hey, that’s cool, right? There’s nothing wrong with great history going around helping kids learn the fascinating world of our great history.

Now, there is a bunch of hooligans from Williamsburg who is here in Baltimore not only to enjoy the festivities, but also push a ridiculous, unfounded political agenda of theirs. {Unfortunately, I can’t find any website about this mysterious group.} Their agenda? They are lobbying and doing some sort of a public demonstration urging historians to rewrite history. Basically, they are contesting that Plymouth, Massachusetts was never the original landing site of the Pilgrims, but Williamsburg. And they want all history textbooks to be “corrected.” At this very moment when Patrice told me this, I was flabbergasted and speechless. I was hoping that the reason why I got bumped off was because the ship caught fire, sank, and killed some of the relatives or something, thus requiring emergency plans. That I could deal with. But this?

Notice that the Godspeed port of call in Baltimore ends in June 12. This huge group of hooligans from Williamsburg also booked their hotel stay at the Hampton Inn till June 12. But apparently, something must have changed, causing this nerdy group to beg the property AGM on Monday morning to extend their reservations, citing that collectively, they all made a mistake with the departure date. Hmm. Sounds kind of suspicious. So Emile the AGM decided to extend the nerds’ reservation, thus kicking out a bunch of others. And he did so without care or concern about the customers, Diamond VIP or not. I must assume that he picked the ones who are paying the lowest corporate rates so that he could make more money. Or else why would he have the audacity to kick out so many Diamond VIP members, who actually have earned the privilege to kick out other non-Diamond VIP members? And of course, I asked Patrice to find out if any of these hooligans are even regular Hilton patrons with some kind of level {silver, gold, elite, or diamond}. Nope, none of them are regular patrons of any Hilton property.

So! A bunch of silly nerds who walk around all day in their Colonial outfits managed to convince a stupid Assistant General Manager and conspired to leave a bunch of business men and women out in the cold. And to add salt to injury, this dumbass decided to redirect business to a competing chain of hotels instead of another Hilton property, no less! All because the Hellishday Inn was a steal at $129 a night! Mother effer! You bet your ass I will be writing a nice letter to Corporate Hilton to file a formal complaint about this extremely poor business decision. In over five years of corporate travel with Hilton Hospitality, this was a first. It was so maddening that I started laughing hysterically while blogging this. This is going down in history for the St Halcyon Chronicles!

Curious George

This is by far one of my favorite spoofs of the monkey who calls himself the president. =)

You can be like Jack!

Have you ever noticed that Jack Bauer is a very special man? In any given 24 hour period, he does not shower, use the restroom, eat {except for the first episode of this past season, which he made breakfast for his girlfriend}, can take on so many bad guys and always win, and never get grazed by bullets from enemy fire? Yeah, weird, huh?

On a very practical level which I am quite envious of, he never has to recharge the battery of his seemingly normal cell phone like we all have, and he always have cell phone service everywhere! Even on a plane above 10,000 feet! He must have Cingular, the only cellular company that is "raising the bar." Kickass!

Well, just the other day, while flying from Chicago to Philadelphia, an hour into the somewhat short two hour trip, a passenger's cell phone rang while we were still above 10,000 feet! I was hoping this dufus who forgot to turn off her cell phone would answer it and see what kind of clarity she could get. Unfortunately she fumbled around in embarrassment trying to turn the cell phone off instead.

You may not be able to last a day without using the restroom or eat, and you may have to charge your cell phone every day if you talk as much as Jack on the phone, but you can be like Jack to receive calls miles high in the air! =)

Betsy Ross; not Franklin's wife...

Since Memorial Day, I have to work seventeen days straight on four client projects. And I am now on client number three in Wilmington. I kind of have a day off, since I worked Friday and have to return late in the evening on Saturday into Sunday and Monday, before heading to client number four in Baltimore. Instead of sleeping in most of Saturday in preparation for the overnight work in less than an hour from now, I decided to drive up to Philadelphia to hang out, a mere thirty minute jaunt away.

Have you ever been to Philadelphia? I have not. Well, I have driven through it when I used to live between Altoona, Pennsylvania and Buckhannon, West Virginia. There is this thing called the Independence Mall in Central Philly, and it is a large area of historic value. I cannot believe that I never went down there in the year and a half I lived in the east coast! Since I only have a day, I hit a few places of interest real quick.

I went to the Independence Visitor Center, where you start your exploration into our great historic past. I walked up to the ticketing and informational station to request for suggestions on free things to do with the limited time that I have. It was like going into a huge candy store not knowing what you want and where to begin. So this nice lady, perhaps in her mid seventies, whipped out a map with a gazillion things that dotted Independence Mall and Old City. She looked it over, and suggested the following sequence, while briefly explaining what each was:

• Liberty Bell Center - It houses the Liberty Bell.
  
• Independence Hall - The first capital building for our country.
  
• Christ Church Burial Ground - Benjamin Franklin's final resting place. {"Do you know who Benjamin Franklin is?" "Yes." "Good. You'll want to see that."}
  
• National Constitution Center - The place where we keep the original Declaration of Independence as well as the Constitution.
  
• Betsy Ross House - Ross's home, now a nice museum, as well as Ross's final resting place. {"Do you know who Betsy Ross is?" "Franklin's wife?" And she laughed.}
  
• Elfreth's Alley - An alley lined with beautiful, majestic, historic Colonial houses.
  
• Christ Church - The first church established in Philadelphia, where Franklin's family worshipped.
  
• Franklin Court - The area where Franklin's house used to be; also the United States' first Postal Office was established there, and still operational today.

Now, back to Betsy Ross. Apparently my-stab-in-the-dark answer to who Betsy Ross was is incorrect. She looked me in the eye, and asked, "You don't know who Betsy Ross is?" Then she turned to the gal next to her, and said, "This fella doesn't know who Betsy Ross was!" I laughed along with her, and not wanting to feel too embarrassed, tried to give an excuse: "I'm not from here. I just got my citizenship about a couple years ago." But let me tell you. This lady, albeit her age, was a smart cookie. Her snap response: "Well, didn't they ask you that question during your citizenship test?!?" Busted! I turned bright red, and I tried to dig a deeper hole with more excuses. "There were hundreds of questions they could ask, but they only ask you twenty!" "I guess you must've missed that one, didn't ya?" And she said that with a wink.

Like a tutor, this funny old lady tried to help me indirectly. "Betsy Ross was a great stitch. Does that hint help?" Sadly, I said, "No." She rolled her eyes, followed by, "Red, white and blue?" Ding! I jumped up and down like a little kid, exclaiming, "She stitched the first flag!" And she was pleased. =)

My dick is bigger!

Seriously! What's the deal? I've wanted to talk about this for a very, very long time. What made the decision easier was what happened last night while I was on my way flying over to Philadelphia. While at Midway waiting to board, this guy would talk to random people, uninvited, about how he is currently involved in Formula One, a popular sport around the world that has yet to gain a foot-hold here in the US. He approached someone in line at the gate while waiting for the plane. He wanted to start talking about it with me while on the jetway boarding the plane. He bragged to his neighbor on the plane in flight. He bothered the person sitting across the aisle from him when the neighbor went to sleep. And even after deplaning, he intruded on a woman who was walking near him about it; and she sat only two rows behind him on the plane!!! How annoying.

Seriously, was that called for? It was just so funny that I chuckled silently each subsequent time this annoying person tried to find a convo-victim. And that made me realize something. Why are people, men in particular, always find the need to compare and one-up you? Cases in point:

• My friend Nick over dinner some time last month. "How big is your Sharp Aquos?" "32 inches." "Ha! I bought mine a few months ago and it is 42 inches. Mine is bigger than yours!" Wow... That made for an awkward dinner conversation.
  
• An acquaintance, or a friend of a friend, feels really inadequate and finds the need to make sure he makes more money than I do, or gets better pay raises than I do.
  
• Someone I know, and you probably do as well, once asked me about my cell phone's features. After I kindly obliged, his response was, "See? My phone is better than yours because..."
  
• And I get these a lot: "Where do you work?" "C e r n e r." "Oh, never heard of it. Sorry. But I work at Motorola/Yahoo/Accenture/E&Y. Ever heard of them?" Really, I have never heard of such big names before. Honest to God!
  
• "My camera is better than yours." Or "my camera has more megapixels or bigger zoom."
  
• "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they're like, 'It's better than yours.'"
  
• Or my favorite one. Someone I know has a Dodge Stratus Coupe, which was basically a rebadged version of my previous Mitsubishi Eclipse. Every performance specs are the same. But he had to tell me his car is better because his has a longer wheelbase.

I hardly ever go up to people I know and show off things comparatively. Every time people compare stuff and just need to one-up me, I just shrug them off thinking how stupid they are. But recently, an epiphany occurred in my mind. These people are not silly. It has been me all along. Apparently, it is just something hard-wired in our brains to always feel the need to be better than you. Cases in point from history:

• The space race that started in the late 50's to see who can conquer outer space and show off who has the best scientific superiority and military might.
  
• The national debate over which city should host the 1893 World Fair. New Yorkers taunted Chicagoans claiming that a second rated city such as Chicago couldn't possibly rival that of first class New York city to host something as big as the World Fair. {By the way, this is one of the theories on the nickname "Second City" attributed to Chicago.}
  
• Alexander the Great, Caesar, and the Brits. They all wanted to conquer the world so that they can lay claim to the sun never setting in their conquered empire.
  
• North Carolina and Ohio. Over state slogans. "First in Flight" versus "Birthplace of Aviation." Seriously, is it really that important to argue through policies, on license plate slogans no less, about who can lay claim to the origins of flight?
  
• King of the hill. Yes, the silly game you used to play as a kid.
  
• "My kid is an honor student" bumper sticker. Or better yet, "My kid beat up your honor student."
  
• And finally, even at the very basic rudimentary level of all living species, animals defend their territory and/or their right to breed with all the females in the pack.

So yeah, it's not other people. It's just me. I am the freak of nature who does not fit the mold like everyone else. =)

666

If you have not realized it, or by chance that you live in a cave without access to current events {aka news}, take a look at your calendar. Yes, it is June 6, 2006. But look closer, and you will realize that today's date bears a resemblance to the mark of the beast {if you so choose to believe in the Christian faith or derivatives of it}--666!

I didn't think I would worry too much about today being the day of 666 yesterday as I got ready to turn in for the night. Well, this morning, I realized that perhaps I was wrong, as it appeared that the day started out quite ominous. The last time I was trying to get home from the Addison station early in the morning, I noticed that both northbound and southbound trains go through the station quite frequently during morning rush hour period. Late last week I saw three northbound trains stop by Addison while I was walking towards the station! That's frequent, I tell ya!

As I walked towards the Addison station, I thought that this morning wouldn't be any different than my experience last week. But I was wrong. When I got to the station, I waited, and waited. Five southbound red trains rolled by. Even two northbound purple trains came through. But where was my red train home? Ugh! Maybe the fact that I couldn't get a cab late last night for a good twenty minutes should have told me that it was a harbinger of things to come on this {gasp!} day of Lucifer?

Well, it turned out that no, the devil himself did not rise from beneath the tracks and wreak havoc to my train a few stations south. And it definitely was not Lucifer who appeared out of thin air to cause the train engineer {actually, they're called motorman} to have a heart attack and die, causing a huge train delay. It simply turned out that a passenger had gotten sick on the train and needed medical attention. Or so the CTA customer service lady said over the loudspeakers, explaining for the long delay. Translation: Some fool got really drunk and puked, and CTA had to clean up the mess. I have seen this many times before, but I think they were trying to be modest about the reality. So no, nothing ominous happened. And I sighed a huge relief, especially when the train finally came.

Things were going well, until something caught my attention while I was having lunch. Congress is currently debating {and sources predict the Senate may approve} the Communications Opportunity, Promotion, and Enhancement Act of 2006, or COPE in short. If passed and signed into law, it will give Internet {and other media} providers the right to block certain web sites from its customers. Hence the "opportunity" and "promotion" parts of the bill. Basically, if you are a Time Warner cable modem customer, you may one day not be able to access MSN news website. Consider the following:

Verizon DSL company may have the right to prevent its customers from accessing Vonage or Skype, which are services that allow net users to place phone calls over the net. As such, it is considered a rival business to Verizon. They have every right under the proposed COPE law to block any website as they wish. And Time Warner cable modem customers may not be able to get to rival media websites like MSN, since Time Warner owns CNN and a slew of other news sites. Or worse yet, SBC DSL customers will not be able to go to other music downloading sites except for SBC's partner Yahoo music site. All this is to allow internet providers to make more money {think opportunity} by pushing {more like targeting} advertisements to consumers {think promotion} that will direct them to their parent companies. In the end, consumers suffer, and corporate America gets richer.

Now, tell me if I am wrong, but isn't the internet just a huge network of computers connected together, freely exchanging information? And since when are we going to turn into a nation just like red China, where censorship over the Internet is rampant? I don't give a rat's ass if the censorship is to block political reform sites or to block free trade to spike up competition so that consumers can have access to more things at lower prices. And I don't like the scent of this ass-rotten bill one bit at all. Whatever the hell happened to net neutrality?!?

Interestingly, this bill is unstoppable. It has the support of many heavy media companies {practically all, since every media provider in the US has something to gain} who are also major contributors to many politicians. And we all know that Republicans are the ones who aim to set policies where the rich gets richer and the poor gets poorer. {Not all, but most.} And with the Republican-controlled House and Senate, and a dumbass Republican president at the helm, I do not see this bill going through "debate" in Congress with much of a struggle.

More interestingly, this isn't even reported on many of the major media news outlets! The small independent news sites are the ones reporting it. This is just another sign that the US media has a lot of say and control in what should be reported. A huge bias. And definitely a huge self-censorship. They are just as bad as al-Jazeera, except in the opposite end of the spectrum! And I don't like this one bit. So this day turned out to be quite ominous after all. The devil reared its ugly head today, and he isn't even Lucifer, but a collective bunch of rich, right-winged, conservative religious hypocrites who are out to make themselves richer. June 6, 2006 surely turned out to be a day of the devil.

My Political Corner Archival (from MySpace profile)

As I update the Political Corner section of MySpace profile with a new cartoon, I'll archive the replaced cartoon in my blog for your review. Enjoy!

By Joel Pett, Lexington (Ky.) Herald-Leader

Fix Everything My Ass

FEMA. The new four letter F word. Well, at least that's Not Our Problem, Dudes!

So I finally got the chance to walk around the French Quarter right after work in the afternoon. And it was extremely hot and humid. Bourbon Street was kind of slow, but at least the cops had just cordoned off the street from motor vehicles. So I ducked into Brennan's Red Fish Grill to seek shelter from the sweltering heat and calm the raging growl that was bellowing from my gut.

The wait for a table was 60 to 75 minutes, I was informed. So I headed to the bar. Lady Luck must have smiled kindly on me, for there was an empty seat at the packed, smoke-filled bar. Hot dog! I ordered a glass of Syrah, and contemplated the choices on the menu. The lady to my left said hello. She was a beauty. Again, Lady Luck was generous. So we talked.

But somehow my luck had run out, as I spotted a nice diamond ring. Yes. Kerri was a married woman. Oh well. At least we can keep each other company while we were both here in New Orleans by ourselves for business. She was from Cleveland, married for three years, have lived in England for a bit, her mother died last year in September to cancer, hated exercise {yet somehow managed to keep a great body}, and was well traveled like myself. We shared a double chocolate bread pudding to finish off our dinner, then bid adieu. That was a nice, short lived moment. As short lived as it was, I realized that my watch read 21:30. Wow. I had been at that restaurant for more than two hours. Good conversations always make time fly.

Then back out to Bourbon Street. The sun was finally down, and the street was more crowded with people. Balconies were filled with people carrying loads of beads, and yelling down at passerby's to do crazy stuff. I looked up to see what kind of good beads I could score, and mostly tried to steal a glimpse up some girls' mini-skirts. Hey, if they chose to wear mini-skirts *and* go up on balconies, I will assume that they don't mind guys checking them out! =) Of course, some just should not be checked out. In fact, I wondered how the bar balcony bouncer was able to let some of the nasty people up there.

Sadly, all I got was three lousy beads. None of them fancy ones. Lucky Dog's, or mystery meat hot dogs as I liked to call them, were scattered all over the French Quarter just as I remembered it. People were sporting the tropical bomb drinks, just like it had always been on television. Then the hurricanes. And of course, who could forget "Big Ass Beer To Go?" I will admit. I liked the idea of a city with open container privileges. Just don't pee in the streets though. That will just land you in jail. Not that I have any first hand knowledge about it.

So I walked up and down the streets of the French Quarter. Damn! Good looking girls were everywhere. But then again, there were lots of underage kids too. And they too, were carrying hurricane drinks and the whole smorgasbord. And then I realized this: Barely a cop can be seen around. Ha ha ha. But seriously, shouldn't high school girls and boys not be hanging around Bourbon Street, all scantily clad? I just hope that there weren't many pedophiles out there lurking around.

Of course, like they have always said, Bourbon Street is always the same no matter when it is. The only difference between a normal weekend and Mardi Gras is the sheer volume of people out and about. On a normal weekend, you can actually walk up and down the street! But otherwise, girls still take off their tops to earn some beads. Ah! I felt like heaven. But I am sure heaven is not filled with drunk girls stumbling around showing their goods while barefoot. Especially with their boyfriends were just egging them on to show off their mammary glands. It could be hell, but I like it.

Too bad I am here in New Orleans by myself. It would have totally kicked ass if I have someone here with me. Oh well. Sometimes that is just the way it goes in business. I finally decided that the free booby show and the glitter of many strip clubs that line Bourbon Street were enough for me. I have to work tomorrow morning, so I definitely should stop downing hurricane drinks. But I had to go check out the crazy t-shirt stores that littered the French Quarter. There were too many that were funny, but my intoxicated brain can only remember a few. My favorite three are:

FEMA: Fix Everything My Ass!

NOPD: Not Our Problem, Dudes!

FEMA: The new four letter F word.

Sigh! I can't blame them for their frustration. But the best part of it all? Through the natural disaster and the clusterfuck of an aftermath it was, the people here still had the smarts and guts to come up with funny shit to sell to tourists! God bless the American Spirit! =)

Going to town with one in the brown

What a shock it was earlier today when I was reading some stale newspaper. I picked up Thursday's edition of USAToday, and the third article down on the front page headlined:

"More men than women say 'I do' to marriage, family"

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have conducted surveys on women on sex, living together, marriage, divorce and parenting since 1973. But the latest survey by CDC included men for the first time ever. Those surveyed were over 12,000 people of both sexes, aging between 15 and 44.

Whoa! What a shocker of a finding it was! According to the latest survey, "men are more likely than women to prefer marriage over lifelong singlehood and in many ways are as interested in serious family relationships as women." Now, ain't that interesting? That just broke all connotations and stereotypes about the male psyche!

Will we see the wife-beater jokes go away? Doubtful. Will all guys still be unfairly branded with being afraid of commitment? You betcha. But as a guy, I feel good to know that there are more women than men {at least statistically speaking} who are actually afraid of commitment! Then again, I don't like the idea that more men than women prefer to get married than be single. Does that mean men are needier people than women? Scary.

Nawlins

Sigh! It is a glorious Friday morning. The sun was out, the birds were chirpin', and hippopotamuses were singing. =) Okay, it was more like the sound of my air conditioner was churning loudly, and all I could see was the brightness with which my room has been nicely illuminated.

Ah, Friday. The official start of the weekend. A day when you plan on doing lots of fun after you put in the requisite eight hours. But not me. Nosireebob. I've got to get packing as I'm flying out to New Orleans at 14:50. How sucky is that? Oh, yeah, I forgot. It's for work! And I won't return till Monday. Sigh!

As I look to the heavens above, I pray that I won't feel down {while staying at the French Quarter}, will eat healthily {give me some of that buttery gumbo, etouffee, jambalaya, and heart clogging seafood cooked in butter and served with a side of melted butter}, have plenty of exercise {walking up and down Bourbon Street}, will stay off of liquor {isn't it hurricane season right about now?}, and will not lust after the hot women down there {I better keep an eye out for them Adam's apple}. Amen!