Emissions Impossible.

I find it really amusing that some folks head over to the emissions testing place wondering if they'll pass or not.  Its like they're middle school students who haven't learned the material but took their best shot at a scantron anyway.  Fingers crossed, brow furrowed, nose squidged out to the side because they firmly believe that the harder they hope, the more chance of a favorable outcome.  I didn't cross my fingers.  I mean, just look at my car.  How could it not pass?  Also I've already passed a MD inspection and a DC inspection within the last year.  I know, those should be good for two years, but I'm fine with going again.  See, the testing place is literally a block and a half from my office (closer than the nearest gas station).  So while I may have been able to dig through backlogs of paperwork that I don't really organize and file a protest, I think it was a better use of my time to just let them have a look at my car again.

It also amuses me that they don't really to the emissions tests any more.  They just hook the car up to the computer and ask it if its been behaving.  I was about to open the door when the attendant said "You can stay in the car.  Just move your legs over a little."  I looked at him, then down at my legs in the footwell and back at him.  I replied "I think I'll hop out."  See, my car isn't the kind of car you skootch over a little in.  It holds you in the right spot for driving and there's little room for much else.  So he proceeded to hook the cable up and I can't imagine how I would have contorted to remain in the car while he reached under the dash.  Maybe some combination of hanging from the headrest with my legs out the sunroof...  Wham, bam, thank you vehicle emissions inspection dude.  That took all of 4 minutes.

Get Smarter Already.

Outlook should know when I've comprehended a message and mark it as read.  So when those little popups convey the whole communication and I dart my eye to the corner of the screen to see that we are indeed playing Ultimate at lunch, there doesn't need to be an unread message in my inbox.  Likewise, when I spend 45 minutes pouring over a poorly written request and still don't have a guess at the jist, it'll still be marked unread when I get back from my well deserved pitstop in mensroomland.  Is this really too much to ask?  Some may say yes.  I say, shut up and do it.

Worldly.

It really surprises me how okay my financial institutions are with me buying 9 feet of margaritas in Mexico or withdrawing $120 from a cash machine in Panama.  Seems like when I was a kid the flags would go off much more readily.  Like buying gas during one of our biannual trips to Michigan.  But now I can buy a bottle of Scotch in a gift shop 3,000 miles away and no one blinks.  They just assess a reasonable ATM fee (96 cents versus pushing 5 bucks for a local off-bank transaction) or calculate how much I'm getting screwed on the exchange rate and go about their business.  I guess maybe that's just the kind of profile I've generated through my past spending habits, but they must have some very sneaky algorithms crunching to allow some of the stuff I do.  Either that or they're less vigilant than I think...

Code BLUE!

Full... goram... throttle.  All it takes is a broken hip or a heart attack or something like that.  All I know is they called a code "blue" to some room and now we've got a rooster tail like a fricking preacock.  They slammed the hammer down and we're making 27 knots towards the grand cayman islands.  Balls out bitches.

I had some time to think about it.

Yes... I do like Costa Rica.  They've got the weather and the beaches and the forests and the trees and the aminals...  Although walking around at night does kinda make you feel like you're probably in over your head.  I be that goes away after a while though.  Or maybe you just stop doing it.  Either way, it all works out. 

Yeah, I don't dance.

What the fuck is up with the cha-cha?  its just moving your feet back and forth a few times and then moving on to the next thing.  I mean, come on; its like the goram grapevine without the movement.  If i wanted to shake my hips around i could eat ajax and segrams.  I'm just  be.saying... not that dancing isn't wonderful and evert8hing thought it could be.  And more.

Barking Fastages.

As far as I can see old people are more poorly behaved and even more bound with a sense of entitlement than college students.  Like seriously; like seriously, shut he feck up and wear your life jacket for half an hour or we'll all die.  That's the trouble.  You threaten a college student and they might believe that you'll kill them and their lives will stop.   Threaten an old person and they basically dare you to kill them.  They don't give a shite baout livin or dying, as long as they're comforatable.  So I have to look around and seriously think about who's gonna live and who's not able to stand on the boat deck for fifteen goram m9nuiten.  You all derserve to die in a horrible asxphixiation, but i hope to god i don't make it on the boat with you...

Damn.

Well shit. Now I need a suit that flies. To be honest that movie kinda kicked my ass. I want to have Jon Favreau's babies.Although I coulda used less of the prototype/ kidnapping portion and more flying around kicking random people's asses. The best part about Spiderman, Superman, Batman, (And now Iron Man. What? Too good for a one-word name?) isn't the epic battles with supervillians bent on world destruction/domination. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that mayhem too. But the ease with which these guys dispense with "normal" badguys is much more entertaining and serves to deliver a baseline of just how badass they are. I'm sure they'll put a nod to this concept in the sequel, but it won't be the same. Instead of "what the eff is that?" *wham* muggers will say "oh crap here comes Iron Man". (Though to be fair there was plenty of the military going "what the eff is that?") But that's about the only problem I can invent to have with this movie. Well, besides being pissed off that I can't have anything I just saw.

Damn Slackers.

I can't believe we're having this conversation. Several officials at the FIA think one of the drivers is just too disheveled to be shown on camera. Now this is the racing organization with the Nazi orgy loving fetish, so you know if they're offended by someone's self-presentation it must be pretty gnarly.


Yeah, this dirty motherfucker. I'm gonna need an extra dollop of eye soap to was that extreme sketchery from my retinas.

"[To] millions of viewers and to many children worldwide he is a hero and role model...I know there is a level of personal freedom one is allowed but I feel he is taking this too far and someone should talk to him or his team about this."

You've gotta nip these kinds of shenanigans in the bud. Otherwise he'll likely start wearing sunglasses or those shorts with the big pockets...

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