Argh.

I was about to post the start of an ambitious new project when my computer decided to teach me a lesson in saving frequently. As I finished up my long post, my computer shut off on me, and I lost it all. *@%^$#*&^(! Only the following sequence of characters can effectively convey my feelings regarding this egregious offense: *@%^$#*&^(!. I will try to begin anew either this evening or tomorrow. Good day.

Puff

Sitting or lying out in the sun after a hard day's work (or, in my case, an easy half-day's work), sipping a beer, and puffing on a cigar: quite enjoyable. Jeff and I have started enjoying this timeless hobby every now and then, so here's a quick cigar breakdown based on recent experience:

Captain Black (Peach Rum flavored) - I hope you didn't expect to hear anything bad about a pirate-themed brand, because you won't. Three dollars for a pack of 20 little cigars, and they're surprisingly delicious. Of course, they're really kind of girly cigars--they're more like cigarettes and they're strongly flavored. But whatever; they're cheap, they won't bore you or destroy your tastebuds with an unending supply of tobacco, they're tasty, and they're Captain Black. Yarrgh, matey!

Black and Mild - Not doin' it for me. Even the mild versions seem to be rolled with no other intent than to make a drunk person sick(er). Especially if that person is Jeff Silvan. They've got that special plastic tip, but who cares? When I tried to open mine the other night, the tip got caught in the plastic and ripped off anyway. When I tried to smoke what was left without that crazy tip, bits of stuff kept breaking off into my mouth, which is clearly not cool. If I wanted to chew my tobacco, I'd buy some chew. Plus, these suckers cost a heck of a lot more than Captain Black, and that ain't right. I can't in good conscience recommend this brand to human beings.

Phillies Blunts - Surprisingly good. I gotta say, the Honey flavored ones smell like sweet, sweet honey, straight from the bee's bottom. If you're not crazy about honey, maybe these aren't for you, but then again, if you aren't crazy about honey, you're probably some kind of cold, heartless monster. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I haven't actually partaken of any honey flavored ones yet, but I intend to at some point. A few of us smoked the Original flavor last night though, and those were good stuffs. Deegs even left me the last one in the package; bangarang! Not too expensive, so I'd say a good deal. These cigars are fairly large, but then again the last quarter or so kind of loses its charm, so feel free to stomp that when the time comes.

So that's it for now. Go get a cigar and a beer and sit out in the sun, just as God intended, assuming I've interpreted His Word correctly. If not, may lightning strike my next cigar, lighting it in the coolest way imagineable.

This Can't Be Healthy

I can't say much other than prepare to laugh in anguish at this Japanese game show, where the contestants have to say the tongue-twister correctly or face dire consequences:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEKqU1fkYCI

I wonder if they test that thing to make sure it won't cause any lasting damage...
If it was China, I'd think they did this just to help with the overpopulation.

He's Very Tricksy

This article (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/5217698.stm) on the BBC News website today (and probably every other news site, too, but that's just the one I look at) talks about Saddam Hussein's wish to have a firing squad rather than be hanged if he is sentenced to death.

It might sound as though he's giving up, accepting the fact that he will die at our hands, because of which he seems to think he deserves special treatment. Next he'll want a glass of milk to go with that cookie during his last meal, but then he'll need a straw, and my goodness it will never end.

However, Saddam's defense plea deserves closer consideration. Keep in mind that the following quote is from Saddam himself:

"I advise you as an Iraqi, if you were in a circumstance in which you have to issue a death penalty, you have to remember that Saddam is a military man and in this case the verdict should be death by shooting not by hanging," he told the judge.

Yes, Saddam has slipped up this time: he talks about Saddam in the third person. By speaking as if he were some sort of man who still issues death penalties, rather than some sort of man who is about to face the death penalty, he has clearly indicated that a stunt double will be performing during his death scene. "You have to remember that my friend Saddam...er, I mean, I, Saddam Hussein, seriously this time, am a military man!" Didn't this just happen with Ken Lay, too? Well, let's just hope his captors aren't fooled by some elaborate ruse wherein Saddam switches places with a patsy...although it would make for a tense movie of the week.

LONG LIVE THE EIGHTIES

...That's the 1980's, not the 1580's, which are pretty much dead and buried. Actually, the research I'm doing this summer is based partially in the 1580's period, but that's neither here nor there. Okay, it's there, but definitely not here. Um.

Oh yeah, my point: http://insuranceandnews.com/ Yes! Hey, stop that. Seriously, don't make that face. If you'd just give it a chance, you'd find out that this site, although it has the most boring name in the history of the internet (even more boring than www.boring.com, which used to be thought impossible), is actually a freaking gold mine of 80's nostalgia. That's because it is a collection of FIFTEEN HUNDRED MUSIC VIDEOS FROM THE NINETEEN EIGHTIES. I'm sorry, but a collection this good requires dramatic use of CAPS LOCK and the SPELLING OUT OF NUMBERS.

It's like a pirate stole the 1980's and buried them at insuranceandnews.com because he knew nobody would ever look there, but then a Space Monkey who comes in peace totally found the copy of the map, dug them up, and spread them all across the world.

Current Highlight: "Down Under," by Men at Work. Not because it's really a great song or anything. No...because it's a POP UP VIDEO. Remember those? Man, those were the days. I love my music videos peppered with inane facts.

Current Disappointment: "Putting on the Ritz," by Taco. Not because it's a crappy song (it's a totally awesome song. Don't fight the Taco.). No...because it doesn't work right now. I hope they fix that, cuz that's a sweet song.

Go now. http://insuranceandnews.com/ And don't thank me...thank the 80's!

What's Worse Than A Lobster On Your Piano?

Well, God, or Darwin, or whoever controls the supply of new creatures in this crazy world, you've done it again! Scientists discovered crabs covered in fur (click here for BBC news story) and quickly went to the clinic to be tested for other potentially serious issues. Personally I think the Yeti Crab would make a great mascot--college kids are much more likely to relate to a fur-covered crab than something unusual like a leopard. How many kids come back from freshman year or the beach with leopards? Seriously, though, I can only imagine where the jokesters will take this one. Lowbrow humor has never been so fortunate.

Perpetual Motion

I always thought that inertia would cause things to eventually stop, but I found out last Saturday that skiing doesn't follow the rules of inertia, because it's impossible to stop while skiing. That's not true, I'm just bitter because I don't have the (key) ability to stop while skiing. It was my first time ever (can I finally start living up to Mainer status?), so I guess I couldn't hope to perfect everything right away, but that would have been a nice trick to pick up.

Jeff's been calling me "Runaway Train," referring to one instance in particular where I somehow went from 0-60 mph within milliseconds and obviously couldn't really control myself. It was just down the terrain park, so it wasn't really steep or anything, but it was cluttered with very large jumps, which I told myself to avoid at all costs. Amazingly, I made it through the run without wiping out, whereas Jeff said he almost fell just trying to catch up to me.

Overall, skiing was an interesting experience, in that it scared the crap out of me--I could barely sleep Saturday night thinking back on the craziness of it all. I also couldn't stop hating the small children who were all better at skiing than I was. If I never have to "pizza pie" or "snowplow" again in my life, I won't be terribly upset. Maybe next time I'll just hop on the lift and never hop off, because the lift ride was my favorite part.

I've Never Met An Accident I Didn't Commit

(Alternate titles: An Accident's Just A Friend You Haven't Finished Off; Accident Shmaccident--You're Dead, Whittington!)

Furthering solidifying his position as "so evil he's just got to be a movie villain," Dick Cheney went positively Wedding Crashers on a 70 year old man Saturday (click here for article).

Yes, that's right: according to BBC News, during a quail hunting expedition, Cheney "had turned round to shoot at a bird but sprayed Mr Whittington with shotgun pellets instead." Instead of the fleshy buttocks, however, Cheney went straight for the jugular, hitting his victim in the "in the cheek, neck and chest."

What set him off? Was it an insult to his ridiculous attire? Perhaps Mr. Whittington had expressed having a problem with Cheney's general attitude toward everybody here and in Iraq.

Whatever the provocation, one thing is certain: Cheney will not rest until his prey's head hangs from his wall. "The Whittington clan is overpopulated in this country and they're decimating the grubworm population," raved Cheney, flailing his shotgun around as if to indicate that the power of Christ was compelling him.

Mr. Whittington "is said to be 'alert and doing fine' in hospital," and in fact could not stop flinching and mumbling about his credentials. "I-I-I'm allowed to b-be here; I didn't...I've never, I-I've never given a fake n-name i-in my life."

When asked to comment on the actions of his second in command, an excited President Bush stammered, "Yeah, ah, ah love that scene when Dick was throwin' up in the toilet, and he told that Claire, he tells that girl to go get him some 7-Up, 'cause he's about to get invulnerable agin'!"

"The local sheriff's department is investigating the incident," reports BBC News, but then again, the local branch of Haliburton received a grant from the government to rebuild Cheney's shattered alibi, creating a potential roadblock to the capture and incarceration of Public Enemy #2.

Torn

I'm torn over the ridiculous, absurd, despicable response in the Islamic world to the printing of "offensive" comics in Danish newspapers. I want to decry it--and I do decry it. But every time I go to condemn Islam, I find myself needing to balance it out by condemning the Christian world as well. I mean, we think of them as insane, and they are, but so are so many Christians. Case in point: George God-Also-Speaks-To-Me-In-The-Form-Of-A-Burning-Bush. I mean, what's the point in tearing down one religion, when that only makes me look as if I'm supporting the other? I want to tear them all down. If money is the root of all evil, perhaps organized religion is the parasitic vine that grows around the tree, wrapping itself tightly around the tree, throttling it, in the name of crushing the life out of the evil tree, all the while crushing the life out of all other trees too, good or evil. Feeding from the same source that feeds the evil money root. Then again, perhaps this analogy is out of control. When I don't take my pills, I tend to get cranky, and religion tends to irk me the most. And since I don't actually take pills, it's like religion is constantly a bad thing. Oops, I should rephrase that to show that I'M the one with the problem, not religion. I must need to reevaluate the positives in my life and see if they match up with causing negatives in other people's lives. Either that or I must need a new doctor, one with a free-wheeling pill supply.

Iconic

If you've got any German blood running through your veins, you've always felt a strange tugging at your gut at any sighting, or even mention, of David Hasselhoff. You know Germans love this guy, but do you really understand why? In the ongoing interest of explaining this phenomenon, here is another example of why he is worthy of an entire country's adulation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gi2CfuqcUGE
Didn't even have to take his shirt off for that one.

In other news, I wonder who invented homework. His legacy is killing me, which is what I would have done to him if I had heard that pitch: "Let's make the children take this stuff home and do it on their own time, because I really need a smoke." Jerk. I don't have class on Wednesdays or Fridays, so if I can get a handle on this "managing my time" business, I might just make it. If not, I guess I can move to Germany, adopt a dog, and get paid by the government to live on the street. Doesn't seem that tough, if you don't mind fleas and freezing in the winter.

Praise For My Blog

Some high profile celebrities have been singing the praises of this blog and, well, other stuff:

"Billy Jean is not my lover, and neither is Adam Callaghan--but then again, I always say look for the good inside a person, and Adam Callaghan is still a kid at heart, an adorable little boy at heart, a luscious, beautiful little boy at heart oh my Godcalmdown.......which explains not only why his blog is fantastic, but also why I find myself developing an unhealthy attraction to him, making an Adam Callaghan hair doll, and receiving an Adam Callaghan restraining order from the powers-that-be. Fight the powers!" - Michael Jackson

"I really respect Adam Callaghan's never-say-die, take-no-prisoners style of cat grooming, but I feel that his writing is lacking in...well, let's call it "quality." I mean, my cat has never before been so spiffy clean, but the free grooming was not worth promising to tell all my friends about his blog. Gosh, what was I thinking? I mean, let's be serious, I don't need my cat groomed for free; 45 year old women pay me good money to sign their chests all the time." - John Mayer

The Naked Truth

I went shopping today with my mom. We had a fairly productive day: a winter jacket, a belt (reversible!), and a pair of running shoes. I despise shopping though, especially for shoes. I realized when I was in Germany that I could really use a pair of dress-casual shoes, since cross-trainers didn't cut it at some of the nicer places, plus it's a lot easier to look nice no matter what you're wearing if you've got dress-casual shoes instead of sneakers. But, while it's hard to find size 14 sneakers, it seems to be impossible to find size 14 casual shoes. I pointed out that apparently tall people aren't supposed to dress nicely, but my mother wouldn't accept that; No, she reminded me, tall people apparently aren't supposed to dress at all. Yes, the bright side of the issue is that it's not just shoes that are hard to find, it's everything, when you're tall. Sweet bright side.

On the actual bright side of things, when some movers took my sister's old desk and bureau out of her room the other day, I found buried treasure: a Dumb and Dumber pog. Yes, that's right, a Dumb and Dumber POG. No, stop, please...it's not for sale. It's a keeper.

Back In The U.S.S.....A

Greetings from Maine. Yeah, after about 5 months I'm home. The trip (the traveling home, I mean, not the entire German trip thing) was long and, let's be honest, sucky. It was over 30 hours of being awake and traveling. The worst was Basel, Switzerland. Basel is close to Freiburg, really close, so I figured it would be a good place to fly out of...but that was when I thought I was leaving Dec. 18, from Freiburg. I was flying out at 6 AM. I had to take a train that arrived there at 12:00 AM. Have you ever spent the night alone in an airport? Don't. I don't recommend it. Airports at night are huge, dark, and eerie. If you really need a place to rob somebody, the airport at like 1 AM should be right up your alley. You'll find 1 or 2 suckers like me, sitting in a chair with 2 bags under my chair and between my legs, with my suitcase standing up next to me as I try to rest my head on it and catch roughly 10 minutes of sleep per hour. Lame.

So finally I'm able to fly out of Basel, aaand...it's a 30 minute flight to Zurich. That's right, a half hour flight to Zurich, where I proceed to wait for almost 7 more hours. Zurich was closer to me by train than Basel was--where's the justice in that? Finally I fly from Zurich to Boston, a lovely 8 hour flight. I had my first airplane alcohol--one of those little bottles of wine. It wasn't as exciting as I would have expected, and I really couldn't understand why, on a SWISS Air flight, the only beer was Heineken and the only wine was Californian. There was also at one point a meal served that was basically a large hot pocket. The package told me it was made in Italy. My instinct (and tastebuds) told me it was a Nike factory in Taiwan.

But enough about airline food. My mom picked me up in Boston and brought me home to some great belated Christmas gifts, which it turns out were just to soften the blow of the 8 AM dentist appointment the next day. So anyway, by now hopefully my negativity has plunged you into depression, and because I'm still jetlagged, I don't feel like raising your spirits by talking about positive things, so I'll call it a night. Tune in next time, when I may slip up and write about things that I actually enjoy/ed.