I have begun a holy quest of sorts to find and own a Mortimer Ichabod MI marker. Batteries don't have to be included, but it must be functional.
If you are aware of how one comes across this product, I ask you to comment.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
Recommended Viewing
American Duos (episode 1, season 2, Psych) might be the best show I’ve seen in a while. Amazing guest actors Tim Curry and Gina Gershon. I think it might have the most zingers within a 1 hour timeframe that I‘ve ever seen. You need to watch this show. There’s no other show I’ve seen that’s similar (though there are a few knock-offs… Mentalist for one).
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Home?
One’s perception of home is amazing when one travels. I feel like everything back home is moving at a snail’s pace and everything takes forever to do. I am basically spending my days EAGERLY awaiting a response from someone. And as soon as I get it, I fire back a response within two minutes. Then I stare back at my computer or phone… watching, judging, waiting.
It is a quick way to lose your mind. I am 90% not who I used to be. The remaining 10% consists of my teeth, my belt, and one pair of socks (my least favorite, and the only reason they haven’t changed is because I would rather wear dirty socks than those).
Everything else is different. My eyes are clouded over from the sun and humidity with bags under them. My clothes have a new scent from the hotel laundry service. My shoes have picked up the odor of the streets and tarmac I have become all too familiar with. My skin is burned. My hair is scented with novelty shampoo that tries to imitate a scent I imagine Lawrence of Arabia must have originated. I can’t remember what green looks like. Yellow has taken on a whole new meaning to me. I have a newfound appreciation for khakis… a durable, light pant.
It will be good to go home. I can’t wait to hear a normal American accent and it not register in my brain as something foreign.
It is a quick way to lose your mind. I am 90% not who I used to be. The remaining 10% consists of my teeth, my belt, and one pair of socks (my least favorite, and the only reason they haven’t changed is because I would rather wear dirty socks than those).
Everything else is different. My eyes are clouded over from the sun and humidity with bags under them. My clothes have a new scent from the hotel laundry service. My shoes have picked up the odor of the streets and tarmac I have become all too familiar with. My skin is burned. My hair is scented with novelty shampoo that tries to imitate a scent I imagine Lawrence of Arabia must have originated. I can’t remember what green looks like. Yellow has taken on a whole new meaning to me. I have a newfound appreciation for khakis… a durable, light pant.
It will be good to go home. I can’t wait to hear a normal American accent and it not register in my brain as something foreign.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Middle East TV
This region and tv programming offers you the rare opportunity to be forced into a state of boredom so intense, that I have willingly watched the following shows/movies:
1. Ice Princess
2. Ally McBeal
3. Arabic Soaps... actually, I can't tell the difference
4. Arab MTV. Amazing.
That's it. God, that's even more depressing written out. Well, back to Ice Princess. Commercial break is over.
1. Ice Princess
2. Ally McBeal
3. Arabic Soaps... actually, I can't tell the difference
4. Arab MTV. Amazing.
That's it. God, that's even more depressing written out. Well, back to Ice Princess. Commercial break is over.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Live Cooking Shows & Hangovers
Now... it is a known fact that I am an avid watcher of cooking shows, and am a proud recipient of the foodtv.com newsletter. Food Network is a preset on my favorite stations, and it often plays the role as default for background TV in my home.
But why is it, public, that every time garlic or alcohol is introduced as an ingredient, regardless of the quantity in the dish, it is presented with a laudatory ovation worthy of an achievement on par with winning an oscar? All the fucker did was open a bottle of beer and pour it in a pot or cut some garlic up and slide it into a pan of oil.
Besides, if this is all one needs for a laudatory reaction, then I am the Greek god of Food TV. And if this is the case, then I am short a whole kitchen's worth of ass that's due to me practically every time I have the urge to cook when I'm hammered.
And what does this say about the average American? Are we just a bunch of assholes who want to smell the binge from the night before when we sweat it out?
It is true, sometimes, that last night just wasn't enough, or it was so fun that the morning-after pain is almost enjoyable... kind of like a deep tissue massage.
With that said, I guess I am not as strange as I once thought. Thus, I ask the dipshits that give me attitude every time I see them the "next day" that they keep their negative comments/facial expressions to themselves and let me live my newly realized normal life.
But why is it, public, that every time garlic or alcohol is introduced as an ingredient, regardless of the quantity in the dish, it is presented with a laudatory ovation worthy of an achievement on par with winning an oscar? All the fucker did was open a bottle of beer and pour it in a pot or cut some garlic up and slide it into a pan of oil.
Besides, if this is all one needs for a laudatory reaction, then I am the Greek god of Food TV. And if this is the case, then I am short a whole kitchen's worth of ass that's due to me practically every time I have the urge to cook when I'm hammered.
And what does this say about the average American? Are we just a bunch of assholes who want to smell the binge from the night before when we sweat it out?
It is true, sometimes, that last night just wasn't enough, or it was so fun that the morning-after pain is almost enjoyable... kind of like a deep tissue massage.
With that said, I guess I am not as strange as I once thought. Thus, I ask the dipshits that give me attitude every time I see them the "next day" that they keep their negative comments/facial expressions to themselves and let me live my newly realized normal life.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Returning Home
It appears that I will be coming home from business travel... just a shade under two months.
With my trip coming to a close, I take a moment to reflect. I have experienced two very different environments: the soaring white-capped Italian Alps, and the desolate, baron, flat, yellow desert they call the middle east.
Spending the last few weeks in the latter, I have been deprived of viewing any female presence whatsoever, other than horizontal slits that bare their eyes, which it is frowned upon to make contact with... and to make my plight worse, the country is dry of alcohol as it is forbidden.
I can see it now: I get off the plane in Portland, have a Coors Light at the first bar I see, get tipsy due to my newly weakened tolerance, fall down, and then spooge in my pants from overwhelming sexual intensity cause by looking at a pair of open-toed heels worn by a lead member of the 300-plus club.
Yes, it shall truly be the greatest day of my life in the last five weeks.
With my trip coming to a close, I take a moment to reflect. I have experienced two very different environments: the soaring white-capped Italian Alps, and the desolate, baron, flat, yellow desert they call the middle east.
Spending the last few weeks in the latter, I have been deprived of viewing any female presence whatsoever, other than horizontal slits that bare their eyes, which it is frowned upon to make contact with... and to make my plight worse, the country is dry of alcohol as it is forbidden.
I can see it now: I get off the plane in Portland, have a Coors Light at the first bar I see, get tipsy due to my newly weakened tolerance, fall down, and then spooge in my pants from overwhelming sexual intensity cause by looking at a pair of open-toed heels worn by a lead member of the 300-plus club.
Yes, it shall truly be the greatest day of my life in the last five weeks.
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