I spent the most part of my day trying to get rid of that blasted msblast.exe virus off the work computer. Oddly enough it was Norton Antivirus that wouldn’t let me delete the file off the computer. Weird. It makes me wonder what kind of stupid fat fuck thinks its cool to make a destructive program and release it into the world. Man’s fate to destroy itself, I guess.

I had a good chat with the owner of North Bound Leather. I was impressed with his attitude and manner. No wonder he has one of the best leather stores in North America. We mostly gossiped about the leather community and how it needs to be more cohesive now that big circuit parties are on the down slide. I so want to work in his office…at the end of the meeting, his secretary came in and said “they” needed the 2001 receipts. She looks at me and makes a face: “We’re being audited.” “Oh,” I said. “Yeah,” she says, “Later we’ll all be like this.” and bends over to show me her ass. Classy leather shop!

Tomorrow I will talk about the secret love I have for a homeless guy…

11:42PM

I forgot…I wanted to add my favorite sexual innuendo lines from Star Wars:

“You came in that thing? You’re braver than I thought!” Princess Lea
“You’re all clear kid, now let’s blow this thing and go home!” Han Solo
“Look at the size of that thing!” Wedge

The Mr Toolbox Bear contest was so dreadful I left half way through. The microphone was hooked up to a crappy speaker and combined with the M/C’s accent I couldnt understand a word he was saying. And Hamilton Terry was there.

Let me qualify some things here: I work in a leather bar doing promotions/website/ads and I have limited contact with customers (not as much as the bartenders). For the most part I like our clientelle but as always in group dynamics, theres always someone who rubs your fur the wrong way. Terry is one of them. I find him annoying. He opens his mouth and its all I can do to keep myself from walking away or yelling at him to shut up. You know the type… it doesnt matter how nice they are to you or how shitty they are…their personality is your nemesis-personality. Your anti-matter personality. Thankfully he lives in Hamilton so he’s not in often. Anyway he was there last night talking all the way through the first part of the contest while I was trying to listen to what was being said on stage, which was a chore due to their crappy p.a. system.

I guess I was expecting more from the night. I got nothing. I had a dream this morning that I was back at my first job out of Media school. But I was so ignored/forgotten that I could walk into any boardroom and sit in on things without anyone questioning my presence. I went back to my desk and found it a dumping ground for old computers, manuals, my cubicle fodder, and…insult to injury…my chair was gone. At that point, OldGrannyShakes, the lady in the office who would complain about everything came up to my cube and told me to avoid the Ham. She felt sick since lunch. Which was weird because we didnt have a cafeteria. Then Lady Penelope woke me.

So at work today, three guys came onto me. Which made me wonder where the hell these guys were a few years back when I weighed 180. Now at 210, I seem to be a beefy guy magnet. Not that Im buff or anything but guys do seem to appreciate a gut. Im generalizing but hey, its my blog. So these three guys were not bad but two were coupled in an open relationship. It was clear that one was more into me than the other and I hate that. They didnt come right out and offer a threesome but it was on the table, as it were, and I would have cringed back like Anna Nicole Smith at a vegan food fair if they had offered. I hate threesomes. Threesomes are twosomes with one guy dissapointed. Its a rare thing for both partners to be into the same guy. I digress. So Im fat, Im being hit on by lonely coupled bears and I dont have any epiphany to relate. It was, however a great ego boots. Now I’m asking myself if I should go enter the Toolbox’s Mr Box Bear contest. Imagine the political hell if I did…

Hello. I’m not good at introductions. I generally do the cop out thing and say “Introduce yourselves” when I have to do 2 or more people standing about. So mumble under your breath your name and say Hi.

Okay so this is my first blog. I haven’t a real exciting life. I collect robots and I run another site called Dead Robot, which I should update much more often than I like. I’m a culture vulture and will use any excuse to watch tv or bad sci fi at any given moment. I think that’s all I’m gonna reveal right now…if you read on you will get the gist of who I am. If you click on the stuff at the side you will be dissapointed. I’ve hacked this site from my boss. Its mine now. I own it. Me. Not him. Mine.

Have you played with the Google Start Up page? All the blocks of text can be dragged and dropped wherever you want. Easier to use than My Yahoo! Friendly! Clean!

I fear my job as web page designer will be obsolete in a year’s time if this takes off. It won’t matter how long I suffer over page balance (like we use to do over fonts and font sizes) because some inbalanced dink will do what they want with the pages they view.

But damn if it ain’t cool! I can see all my Gmail incomings!

Google needs to let RSS feeds to be added to it but soon…soon…

I’m back from camping with only 3 bugbites on my right arm (for some odd reason). I have pictures and will try to get them up tonight. We had a great time with the usual crowd and it was great to see the Point guys putting up that great big tent blimp hangar structure for wedding/parties/anything as well as upgrades to the pool. Now to make more showers…

I do have one story to relate: Last year, there was a guy so far gone drunk at the social tent gatherings he was dubbed “Stumbalina” due to his mode of stumbling transport through the crowd. The first party of the weekend in the new Blimp Hangar, Stumbalina was there, doing his thing through the crowd, mumbling drunk disjointed come-on lines.

Sharkboy and I leave to fall asleep in our tent in the quiet wooded section we love to rent (its away from the seasonal party people hence it’s 99% quiet). At about 3am, I’m nudged awake by Sharkboy with “There’s someone outside the tent!”

Outside, about 2 feet away from our tent door, eerily standing right in front of the nearly full moon creating a silloette with a misty halo, is Stumbalina. Swaying slightly.

Immediately the entire Blair Witch movie replays in my mind and I’m awake. I am freaked out. Sharkboy yells “Can you go away, please?”

“Muh lookn fr my tent,” I think he says.

“This ain’t it,” Sharkboy shoots back.

Stumbalina stumbles (duh) away loudly into the night. I’m still sitting bold upright. I’m certainly not going to be able to sleep.

Ten minutes later I can hear him kicking up underbrush near our car/cooler/food area, with no real direction in his movements. I am up out of the warm arms of Sharkboy and with a large, heavy flashlight in hand I am out of the tent and advancing on Stumbalina, who hasn’t drunkenly registered that someone is coming at him. I hit him with the powerful beam from the flashlight.

His reaction to the light was exactly like that scene from the 50’s War of the Worlds when Dr. Clayton Forrester shines his flashlight on the Martian: eEEEeeeeeEEE!!! His hands come up over his face, which is contorted like I sprayed him with ice cold water. “Buddy… where is your tent?” I ask calmly (Sharkboy says I was calm. I wanted to sink the flashlight into his face – years of being a bouncer at the Black Eagle kicks in when dealing with drunks).

“mulglgalgg …Eight!” Meaning he was in lot #8.

“Over there,” I point with the flashlight. He slowly turns and follows the beam.

Stumbalina stumbles into the night.

About 5 minutes later we hear a zipper and a thump.

The next day we see Stumbalina drinking gallons of water. He won’t make eye contact with us.

From WeMakeMoneyNotArt

I would consider putting one of these on (scroll down a bit) for a scene (hell, even while shopping at Costco). I would NOT consider working over a slave wearing one without running from the dungeon, stifling laughter.

After the second heavy *sigh* out of Sharkboy due to R2 *popping* out of his ship cradle (why not just have an escape gate for these astromech droids?) I realized I wasnt having much fun either. I could barely keep up with the fight sequences and when the dialogue bogged down I started wondering about how much detail they gave the little digital flying cars you can see out the windows. I could go on and on about the little things that pissed me off or I loved about it, they were equal in amount. However, just like the parliamentary vote, it was down to one last image that made me think “Ugh. This is crap!” It was Darthy’s “NOOOOO!” at the end. Hardly the reaction of an emotionless pittbull hell bent on torturing the galaxy in the name of the Emperor.

I am eager to see Lucas’ next movie to see if he’s really lost it as a director. He’s lost all sense of restraint, that’s fer sher.

Okay the acting was wooden, the direction wild and the script had me saying “Foo!” but remember that the SW series were borne from serial movies of the 30s. So at least they got that right.

And in the sprit of fun, I present (via Bacon and Eh’s Blog) The Parade of Unfortunate Star Wars Costumes. The caption for the Death Star one had me howling.

And so it was passed that new images of stupidity and bored fire play were uploaded to this site.

Enjoy!

Seems like Blogspot has become the Geocities of the New Internet Boom, loaded with rabid assholes looking to make a buck by chucking their links out into the Net. I had to put them on my Anitspam list because dickwads are using this free service to spam blogs with “eatmyshorts.blogspot.com” and such nonsense.

Brother Down, Big Fat Hairy Living and From A to B might have some problems linking to me. I apologize for this inconvenience and will resume your links as soon as the attacks stop.

Yours Bloggingly,

Dead Robot

Update: It seems my antispam works too well. All the Blogspot users comments have been wiped too. I apologize for this glitch. This is no slight in any way to your comments, just poor clicking on my part.