I thought I’d blogged about this before, but my quick search for the orange cat on this site didn’t turn up anything, so I’ll try to set that right this time.

Anyway. I found an old article in the Washington Post this morning, that highlighted one of my newer internet finds: Garfield Minus Garfield. And as it turns out, Jim Davis actually reads and approves of it.

Very nice to see an author who’s cool with someone taking their work and extending/expanding it. Not that he’d authorize a GMG book, no doubt, but still. And seriously, check out Garfield Minus Garfield, it’s kind of like watching a train wreck…

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i didn’t necessarily see a lot of my dad growing up. he wasn’t a deadbeat or anything; far from it. he worked the second shift (2:30 - 10:30) at the local corrugated paper plant, meaning i was in bed by the time he got home. during the week, the most i probably saw him was the five-minute car ride from our house to school. i’m not resentful, not in any way. his back-breaking labor allowed me to go to a expensive college, and has allowed me to have a job where i make money while sitting, vs. sweating, like he does.

so i’m not sure if it’s genetic, or just lack of a chance to pass these skills along, but, somehow, i missed out on getting all of his handyman-like skills. dad changes his own oil; i break a fingernail calling the auto shop to get my oil changed. dad uses his cordless drill enough to wear it out on a regular basis; mine typically lives under a pile of books in the basement. dad owns a table saw, scroll saw, jig saw, and band saw; i have, well, zero saws.

when sara and i decided to order a put-it-together-yourself playset for the backyard, then, it only made sense to ask my dad to come up and help me put it together. ironically (or maybe not), it was delivered the week before father’s day, so the ‘rents came up last weekend and dad and i got to work. while not necessarily heavy labor, i sure was tired out on monday morning. we made a pretty good team, him and me– albeit with him doing a lot of the work and me doing a lot of the support. that’s fine, though; this was easily the biggest home project i’d undertaken, and he handles stuff like this every weekend or so. anyway, after sixteen or so hours of effort, the playset was up and there was much rejoicing from the little people in my house. a job well done, and a job that would be about 10% finished at this point had my dad not been there to help out.

i certainly did inherit quite a few qualities from my father. a love of bill cosby. an affection towards dogs. an ability to do crossword puzzles. and frustration with anyone who would have the gall to pass me on the highway. so what if i would need to call in a contractor to build me a birdhouse? my less-than-stellar handyman skills made it necessary for me and my dad to spend a lot of quality time together this past weekend, chances that don’t happen all that much anymore. so it’s not so bad.

happy father’s day, dad.

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As a founding member of simpleprop, and a prolific writer for the first several years, it actually pains me that my writing production has tapered off so dramatically over the past year.

The reasons for this are plentiful: loss of access to SP from work, increase in workload at work, General Malaise (code for “sheer laziness”), etc. Although if you graph out my writing output next do a graph of my general stress level over the past few years, you’ll notice a stark inverse proportional correllation.

Regardless of the reasons, even when I do set time aside to write, or find a spare couple hours at work (like right now) I seem to have what is classically referred to as Writer’s Block.

A popular solution for getting around writer’s block is to actually write about writer’s block (hence this post).

I have no shortage of topics I would like to tackle: Global Climate Change, Why Society Is In The Crapper (working title), ROWE, and Gay Marriage. And maybe that’s my problem. Those are all big, heavy, mammoth topics. Perhaps I should start with some lighter fare to get things moving.

Thankfully my co-conspiritors here at SP have done a marvellous job of picking up the slack in the meantime, and I’m grateful for their continued blathering, er, writing. Just know that I miss all of you more than you miss me, and hopefully I’ll find a way around this and get back to form in the near future.

An upcoming road trip may just be the thing to spark my creative juices… ew, that just sounds gross… who comes up with these sayings anyway? Some of them are horrible.

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so, i’m trying to be better about posting content that i actually come up with, vs. just borrowing things from other sites. trying to be less meta, if you will. however, for those who are as appalled by joe morgan specifically (and by the murdering of the english language, in general) as i am, this must be shared:

hat tip to firejoemorgan, of course.

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so. i know two things. first, capitalism is a good thing. and, second, things are usually more complicated than they appear. but, on the cusp of $4 per gallon of gas…

Republicans block Democrats’ attempt to impose windfall profits tax on oil companies

oh, and:

Separately, Democrats also failed to get Republican support for a proposal to extend tax breaks for wind, solar and other alternative energy development, and for the promotion of energy efficiency and conservation. The tax breaks have either expired or are scheduled to end this year.

super.

(courtesy of the supposed red star. natch.)

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for some reason, i’ve always been drawn towards live music. even before my days in the band (c’mon, it’s been a while since i mentioned that), i’ve loved the raw sound of a live performance, vs. the perfection that can be generated by studio recordings. it actually might have been this double-disc set that turned me on to live performances– from jim morrison’s extended scream in “backdoor man” to the extended organ solo in “moonlight drive,” i was suddenly aware of how cool a live take on a known song could be.

i didn’t become a huge concert-goer, by any means. i caught such acts as r.e.m., metallica, bush, and the counting crows at huge venues before said venues became a bit of a turn-off. in the late 90’s i turned my attention to smaller venues and, in particular, one band. the peacemakers put on an amazing live show, and, in following them, i got turned on to the excitement of seeing a show from the front row of a place like the 400 Bar or the Fine Line. incredible.

anyway. while riding to work (and listening to the ipod) this morning, i started to think about all of the bands i’d love to see live that i haven’t yet seen– here’s that list.

1) Better Than Ezra. i’ve been an avid follower of BTE since 1996; only with the release of their live album in 2004 did i realize i needed to witness them in person. the bad news? they’ve only been in town once in the past five years, and apparently have no plans to be here soon.

2) Fountains of Wayne. i’ve also liked FoW for almost a decade, but until 2003’s “welcome interstate managers“, i considered them more quirky than, you know, rocking. WIM is filled with great stuff that would be great to see live; drawbacks are– like BTE– no tour dates upcoming. and, the new album seems to be back to quirky songs. oh well.

3) Guns n’ Roses, circa 1991. ok, impossible, but can you imagine? oh, and i’d appreciate not getting trampled and killed.

4) Oasis. i realize i’m coming a little late to the game with oasis, but have recently discovered a lot of their stuff that never made it to the radio and have been impressed. i’d also be hoping that the gallagher brothers get into a fistfight on stage.

5) The Shins. certainly not raucous by any means, but their songs are made up by so many layers of sound that i think it’d be cool to see live.

ok. who do you want to see?

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Ok, bad joke. You’ll see.

A little preface. Weak stream. Urgent need to go. Incomplete emptying. These days it seems you can’t watch a sporting or news channel without hearing how men, basically, can’t hold it in. A fact that assuredly isn’t helped by all that beer and coffee and watermelon consumption. I find the commercials annoying, but the product I’m about to show you is nothing short of offensive.

Presenting: The UroClub (apparently TM).

I say this without hyperbole: this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m almost offended more as a golfer than just as a man (though I’m offended on behalf of my gender, too). First of all, I have never played on a golf course that didn’t have at least one porta-john per nine holes, and many have two per. Second of all, you’re on a freakin’ golf course! If waiting just absolutely is not an option, you duck behind a tree, or hell behind your golf cart, and take a whiz, and no one’s gonna know. On the other hand, if you use this thing, peeing into it is the only possible thing you could be doing. You’re not going to take any kind of realistic practice swing with it, trust me. And no one puts a towel over their hands to take a practice swing. And I’m trying desperately not to visualize how most of the old duffers who really need this are going to manipulate their fly discreetly enough to do anything but add to the carnival atmosphere of using this thing.

To top it all off, when you’re done, you’ve got a fake plastic golf club filled with urine! That’s fun at parties, I’m sure. If the inventor of this product is making any money at all, it’s a crime against everyone’s better judgement.

(h/t to Deadspin, where at least Christmas Ape managed to turn a Seinfeld reference dirty.)

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If it’s Austin in the news, and it’s not a man trying to jump a sledding hill, or a man robbing a convenience store with a cheeseburger, or a burglar foiled by register tape, or a kid getting stuck in a crane game, or someone desecrating Starman’s grave, or defecating in an envelope, or. . . well you get the idea. But then it must be:

SPAM! That’s right, SPAM sales are up! Way up! We’re gonna SPAM our way right out of this recession, baby! Whoever said Austin never did anything for us?! Besides us.

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Nice little find by a vacationeer in Acapulco. That guy in the sombrero looks awfully familiar…

It’s-a Me!

No word on whether or not immigration is aware of the warp pipes.

(h/t GoNintendo.)

Late day post-script: Monkey passed this along, and it’s too good not to add in.

Evil Red Wings owner steals cup. (Courtesy of The Onion.)

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In case you missed it. . .

I would have preferred not to link to the giant game highlight video, but it’s the only one that gives me what I want. Fast-forward to about 3:15 and watch the last five seconds of the game. Make sure to stick around past the celebration to watch the slow motion replay. I think I gave myself a hernia while watching it live. Now I think. . . and I’ve never been quite clear on this. . . but I think the goal has to go in before time expires (as compared to the NBA, where the shot merely needs to be ‘on the way’), so I *think* that Hossa’s last shot wouldn’t have counted. And just hypothetically, but if that had happened. . . well, I really don’t have the words to describe any of this. It was a good season of hockey-watchin’, and congrats to the Wings.

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