Steamers

Went out on Saturday night for the first time in a long while. A couple of my friends wanted to go to a jazz bar, and invited a group of us to go. And so we did.

One Car, Three Stooges, taken after the fact

We met up at a restaurant in Anaheim, K'ya (pronounced KAI-YA, supposedly Hawaiian). The theme of the food there is street food from around the world. The fare was simple, but delicious, and cheaper than you might expect, considering the ambiance and location. A good place for a date.

I commented that the restaurant must save a bundle on washing dishes, since the victuals were all served on paper, like real street food.

Images:
Left, Top: Jamaican Jerk
Left, Center: Grilled Scallops and Shooms

Right: Loco Moco

After our meal, we headed out to the jazz club. This is the moment where a (somewhat) monumental event took place: I used the compass on my iPhone practically for the first time. I was told to go North on Harbor Blvd, and had a bit of trouble figuring out north without being able to see near by landmarks, so I whipped out the iPhone and promptly made a U-turn. Another car was not so lucky; they were tardy by a half hour.


When we arrived at Steamers, located in downtown Fullerton, we(as in, our car) was unsure as to where to park, I was sure that there was much parking available, but nowhere as close as we wished it to be, being that Steamers was located in the popular SOCO night district. So we found a place in a back alley to park, hoping to whatever deities were out there that the car would be safe.

We entered Steamers, which was packed to the gills. Thankfully, we had a reservation(under the name Lazarus(spelling?), really.) and we had a space for ten prepared close to the stage. 

The theme for the night was Latin Jazz. The band(the name of which I don't recall) was good, and got better after I got a couple drinks into me. I had the house's Blue Note Martini(strong, sweet, recommended) and a Jack an' Coke(what's there to say, it's a Jack an' Coke). The rule I have for bars is to always try the house special first. The said, after comparing everyone's drinks, the Sangria sucked, but the appletini was candy-liciousness, but not at all manly.

There was no dance floor, but two of our friends managed to find a space and had a coupla steps. The space looks bigger than it really is, mostly just a strip two feet across and five feet long. They made what they could of it.

I really enjoyed music, just closing my eyes and letting the sounds invade my head, reverberating inside my skull. Of course, the same could not be said of others in our party, whom bore quickly(the youth of today...sigh).

Of course, everything must come to a balance, and our check came.
My charge was:
$8 cover charge
$7.5 Blue Note
$7 Jack an' Coke
$2 IRS
$4 Gratuity            

$28.5 Total

Please note I had the minimum two item requirement per person/per set. Also note that the cheapest thing on the menu was a Coke at $3 a can +glass&ice, no refills. They have an excellent espresso bar, I heard.

I also covered a friend, who's birthday I had missed last week for the Thanksgiving get together(see Good Night post). His tab was $40. For the entire night, including dinner for myself, I spent around $90USD. Not cheap. I only planned to spend half of that, and would have, if birthdays and guilt didn't come into play.

The night was fun, and new experiences are always welcome. Hopefully, they won't always be so overpriced.

Now pondering the feasibility of opening a jazz club.

Gummi Bears, Serious Business

I'm a salty kinda guy.

After running that through your head and coming to all the wrong conclusions, I'll rephrase that statement.

I'm a guy who prefer salty snacks over sweet. As a general rule, I avoid candy, as anything too sweet literally makes my teeth hurt. And no, it's not because I have cavities. I'll eat sweets, but not in large quantities and mostly out of politeness or for curiosities' sake.

I suppose it's more a "growing up in a Asian house" thing, as Asians did not traditionally have the gratuitous amounts of sugar that the Westerners did, and their snacks and foods are representative of that. I grew up eating nori(seaweed) rice crackers and pickled plums. My mother did the grocery shopping for most of my life, and I eat whatever she hands me. Like most mothers, Mother didn't hand out candy without prompting, so I never got into the habit of eating sweet things. The situation has not changed much over the years, even as I grew up and encountered more Halloweens. I never did develop the taste for chocolate bars and fruit flavored candy rolls.

But like all things in this world, there are exceptions. I do, occasionally(maybe once every three months or so), seek out candy.


I love gummies. Gummy bears especially. Specifically the tiny ones.

The large neon green one in the center is the standard size bear, for scale.

I've tried every gummy bear I've ever run across, from small confectioners to factory produced 5lb bags. Nothings ever beat the taste of these cute little things dissolving on my tongue.

The sense of satisfaction I get when I eat them is similar to what I'd imagine I'd feel if I were to rid the world of a thousand idiots(related note: watch the movie Idiocracy, or at least the intro), except the murders that are actually happening leave very little evidence and are accompanied by slight sugar high.

You can find these things at your local Sweet Factory(like the one in Brea Mall).

SkiFree

So I was reading xkcd today, and the strip was about that old game SkiFree. Everyone my age and older who ever interacted with a old Windows PC has played SkiFree. In fact, I do believe it was the first computer game I ever played. Now, the first computer game I ever bought was Command&Conquer, but the first game I ever played was SkiFree.

And it was awesome.

But the xkcd strip told me something I never knew about. Apparently, if you press the [F] key, you can ski faster than the yeti and escape death! So I promptly went online and downloaded the 32bit(the original SkiFree was 16bit) version of SkiFree here and tried it.

It worked.

Imagine that.

When Technology Fails, Book Review

I'm fond of living. Really. Sometimes, I do things that really risk said life, but I really am fond of it.

And because I'm so fond of my life, I try to learn things that allow me to keep it. Survivalist, I am.

There are a number of books and online media available(not all true) for any survival minded person, but never have I seen such a comprehensive and in-depth collection of knowledge in one place.

Everyone who cares about their life enough to learn how to keep it during a disaster should have this book. Keep it next to your copies of the Survival Guide(both the SAS and Zombie editions) and whatever maps you might have.

This book has everything you may need to know during an emergency or disaster, but goes further to give you instructions and suggestions on making yourself self reliant and sustainable. The topics it covers includes the basic bushcraft topics, but also includes simple chemistry and metal working. There is also a section on energy and power, as modern civilizations would not be modern without the electricity to keep it running. I can see anyone with a working mind and enough willpower would be able to survive years with the knowledge in this book.

Get it at Amazon here.

Good Night

Yesterday, I had two planned activities. And I did both. One was enjoyable, the other left me somewhat unbalanced inside.

Yesterday morning, my internal alarm clock woke me up at 0700 because I was supposedly to meet up BWI(see Carbon Footprint post) at 0845. Not really wanting to go to whatever nonsensical event they had planned this week, I made an agreement with my club president the night before. If she woke me up in time for me to make it to the event, I would go. Otherwise....well. I figured that having a cute girl wake me up in the morning was payment enough for me to do whatever it was they were doing for a coupla hours.

I rolled over and went back to sleep. 45 minutes later, my phone rang.

That morning, we(BWI) were to head off in support of UCLA BWI(seems they need a lot of support) and help them with the restoration of some creek that ran thorough the UCLA campus.

So there we were, three cars, 15 people driving some 50 miles across Los Angeles County to help the few UCLA BWI members that deigned to show(some 4-5). When we reached UCLA, we spent a half hour trying to find the parking structure we were directed to park at, and paid 10USD a car for that same privilege(that's two hours of work after taxes for most people). UCLA is clearly not lacking in funds, seeing as they have some 20 parking areas, all at 10USD/car and all having at least a hundred cars in them.

Already, a unsettling feeling had grown in the pit of my stomach. We came to volunteer, and it's already cost us 10USD not counting time and gas money to do so, paid directly to UCLA.

So we meet up with the UCLA BWI members and were handed tools (after signing the ever present non-liability waiver) and given an explanation as to what we were to do that morning. Apparently, we were to remove some invasive plant life from the creek area make room for the native flora to grow back in. Basically, we were weeding, for free, because someone at UCLA was smart enough to slant it as volunteer work so they wouldn't have to pay people to do their weeding for them.

So there we were, squatting on our haunches in the dirt, digging and pulling up grass and weeds. With our group and the fraternity that had also showed up to fill their volunteer quota for the quarter, we had some 40-50 people weeding in the creek bed.

That's not me, BTW. I'm more hardcore.

This is me, jumping on the shovel handle.

I immediately figured that someone at UCLA was extremely clever. Not only does UCLA get their weeding done for free, but they also get the income from the parking fees of the people that came to help UCLA during their time of "need."

Honestly though, UCLA is clearly a well off school. Compared to all the other BWI chapter campus', UCLA's campus was by far the most posh, for the lack of a better word. Having us go there was like asking the poor to help the needy rich. It really was a case of the rich getting richer, at the expense of the unwitting poor.

I suppose it wasn't all bad. I got to meet some new people and explore the UCLA campus a bit.

I still want my 10 bucks back though.

After I left that den of (insert something not nice here) and the group of obliviously naive volunteers(who were happy with their day of "good deeds"), I went to meet with my usual crew of friends.

It was an early Thanksgiving get together, with a small footnote: it was also a birthday(I got him some nun chucks I looted from work). It took place in the apartment of our friend's girlfriend, who made dinner for us with her roommates. Beyond the chauvinistic connotations, the gathering brought a warm, fuzzy feeling into my cold heart.

We had good food, good company, and good conversation.

Never mind the facts, that most, if not all, of us were college students living off our parent/guardian's dime.
Never mind the fact that most of us would graduate next year and have to scrabble desperately to find jobs.

We were all together, without a care in the world. It was a good night.

I wished nights like these could last forever.


In other news, I met a cat today. It was pretty.

Another Friend

It's amazing how many people I know blog, but I never knew until I started blogging myself.

Here's another one: tiffanytai.blogspot.com. It's really random, just like her. She can literally change subject mid-sentence. If you aren't used to her, you'd quickly be lost.

Trance Around the World

Goddamn, this is hot shit: http://www.trancearoundtheworld.com/ Internet Radio.

Also, gotta love the Groove Salad at http://somafm.com/.

Recently can't get Fireflies by Owl City out of my head.

Too busy with Harvest Moon for a longer post, just wanted to deculture.

Distant, yet closer

Just like everyone else in this world, I have two genetic donors: my father and my mother. From each of these two donors, I have additional groups of people with whom I share genetic coding, groups consisting of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, not to mention the in-laws. Although both sides of the family are from Taiwan(Taipei area, specifically), only my father's side of the family has since emigrated into the United States. The entirety of my mother's side of the family, excluding my mother, still remains in Taiwan, and shows no sign of wanting to move to this day.

For the longest time, I had no sense of family beyond my mother and father, and with only two people to worry about(and seeing as they could more than take care of themselves), I lacked a sense of belonging to anything greater. That is, till I visited Taiwan for the first time.

We(Father, Mother, Yours Truly) do not get along well with my father's side of the family. Although their proximity to us is about 1/270 of the proximity of my mother's side of the family, we are far closer to Mother's family than Fathers. While my father may feel different, seeing as he grew up with his side of the family, I do not feel any familial bonds that connect me to my father's brothers and sister. My cousins seem more like casual friends than anything else. For many reasons, this side is broken.

All my sense of family outside of the nuclear come from my mother's side. I am always eager to visit them in Taiwan when vacation comes along. Interacting with my mother's family truly gives me the feeling of familial bonds. When I am with them, I can understand why people go to such distances for family. My father is closer to my mother's mother than he is to his own. They are the people I willingly invite to stay at our house for months at a time if they could. In their eyes, I can see their openness and welcoming thoughts towards me. I return home(for that is where I consider my home, with my family) as often as I can, willingly shelling out thousands of dollars for airplane tickets every time.

I feel the same as I do with a select few of my closest friends, who I now consider part of my family.
MY family is growing, even though some have passed on.


I understand what family is now, and I will say this:

To keep my family safe, I would destroy the world.

Petty Crimes

So my buddy, Alun (blog The Suburban Dwellers Almanac) had his car broken into 4 days ago. It happened in Tustin while we were visiting a friend. My Emotions post was about the drive back from that event. His back window was smashed in, and some of his drum equipment was stolen(not the drums themselves, he left those at home, thank God). I actually parked my car two spaces down the side street we were situated in, but I left 2 hours before in order to give my other friend, Wolf, a ride home early. I don't really know how angry Alun is, but there's an anger inside of me knowing that someone would dare rob from my friend. Not to say that we're special and should not be robbed from, far from it. It's just the fact that it happened and I couldn't do anything about it.

I'm no stranger to thievery, being the victim of such several times in my life. My first memory of being robbed was when I was 7, when my family returned from a day at work to find the patio door smashed in and everything in a mess, especially in the bonus room, which we had converted into the office for the family business. I don't want to say exactly how much the thief/ves made off with, but I will say the first number was not one(1) and it was a five(5) digit figure. After that event, that house truly became a castle. We had iron workers come by and install steel doors and window grills on everything, upstairs and down. We had a security system installed, one with a specific device to detect glass breaking. Also, we got a pair of Rottweilers(Allison and Rambo, though they were more likely to lick a thief than attack him).

That house was never burglarized again.

While I was in high school, I had a car window smashed in and the car ransacked. I didn't have much inside, the thief ran off with my emergency overnight bag full of clothes. No big loss.
Around the same time, I was mugged twice and and held up once. It was the nature of the family business that I usually had to go to the shadier parts of LA county. I suppose back then I acted and dressed like a walking target. But after making some friends in the area, and getting a little smarter, I started thinking about things differently. The world isn't the happy peaceful place that school taught me to believe. I've been stabbed(not so deeply that some fishing line, a lighter, and a needle couldn't fix), and I had buckshot in my leg. These aren't the signs of a peaceful and safe society.

I took off the rose colored glasses the liberal world never wishes to remove. It's not the guns that kill people, it's the one that pulls the trigger. And they do it for any reason they want. It's a war on the mind. Do you run, hid behind words and avoid the bad areas? Do you shake your head at the people who are robbed, stabbed, shot, raped, and killed everyday, saying they deserved it for being in the bad part of town? Or do you go out there, and show them that not everyone is helpless against those predations, that there are dogs among the sheep?

I changed myself. It's made me a colder and more cynical person, but I felt it necessary. You who believe that bad men are inherently good and are forced to do violence, do not forget that they still do violence, and it hurts you the same no matter how good the bad men are inside.

Now I never leave the house unarmed. I dress like I have what I have and I'm keeping what I have. My driver side door has scratches from when I smashed it into the side of a would be car jacker. The last time someone pulled a knife on me, I pulled my own. He tagged me, but his knife was a dull piece of shit he probably never maintained in his life. It barely made it through my jacket. He ran, after I showed him the importance of having good equipment, knowing how to use it, and taking care of said equipment.

If someone ever finds me dead in an alley, they won't label me a victim.

Victims don't fight back.

Watch Over Me

(Introspection Warning, reaffirmation of existence below)

No, this post isn't about Big Brother, or The Man. While I am suspicious about those kinds of activities by the government, I don't believe that I have reached the point where my own government is interested in my activities(except maybe the IRS, but they're interested in everyone).

I'm talking about the older me's. By older, I mean the ones that came before, the me from last year, the year before, the one from grade school. The one without all the experiences that I have now. The one free of heartache and bloodshed. The innocent me.

I wonder what they would think of what I am now. What I've done, what I've become. The man I am today.

Would they think that I'm cool? Would they be proud that they would one day become the current me?

Or would they be horrified, and shake their heads at how my mindset is now?

But this post isn't just about myself. It's also about the others that I believe are watching over me from the sky, or from the depths of the underworld. These "spirits," for the lack of a better word, are all those that are no longer present here with us in the material world, with only the memories ever reminding us of their existence.

Friends, Ancestors, and those brothers in all but blood. Those who I will join when my own time comes.

Watch over me, all of you.

I will make you proud.

Carbon Footprint

 Yesterday, I went with a group of new club acquaintances to a presentation on food miles. This club I was somehow railroaded into joining is called Bliss and Wisdom International. When I first heard the name, I thought it was a pot smoker's club. Its not, but the name is quite misleading.

This being an intercollegiate presentation, hosted by the UCLA chapter of BWI, our group had to drive from Orange County to the far west side of Los Angeles to UCLA, which took two vehicles an hour and fifteen minutes.

I found the presentation somewhat interesting, if readily obvious to anyone with more than half a brain and 5 minutes of thought. The gist of the presentation was the carbon footprint left by the food we buy in the grocery store, measure in miles.

According to the presentation, our food that we purchase at our local supermarket, travels an average of 1800 miles. Their example was asparagus from Peru. The asparagus was grown in Peru, shipped to a distributor in Florida, then shipped again to the supermarket it was purchased at in California.

Another example was cheese, a processed food, which means there are even more added costs. First, corn must be grown to feed the cows, a process that may or may not destroy a few hundred acres of rain forest in order to create the farmland to plant the crops in. then, the corn must be shipped to the dairy farm and fed to the cows, which are then milked. For 1lb of cheese to be made, 20lbs of milk is used, the water weight being discarded. Making the cheese is actually quite carbon producing process, since fermenting cheese is just a controlled spoilage, and which creates methane gas, a greenhouse gas much worse than carbon dioxide. The cheese then must be shipped to a distribution center, from which it is then shipped out all over the nation/world.

But that's not all. After reaching the supermarket, consumers like us drive to the supermarket and peruse the cheese in its open refrigeration displays, which use lots of power. Also, some idiots drive to the market only to purchase one or two items, not caring that it takes the same amount of gas it takes to buy one item or fifty, since it is, after all, a single trip to the market. Why not just go once every week, instead of driving to the market every time you need a gallon of milk or a loaf of bread?

Additionally, about 25% of the food in the United States ends up being thrown out, either as left overs, expired, or spoiled. The landfills this practice creates also makes methane gas.

The presentation concluded with a trip to the local farmers market, where the products travel far less than the ones at the supermarket, most of them from within a hundred miles or so. I think everyone had a good time, and the hypocrisy of us traveling 55 miles to go to a "local" farmers market was not commented upon, beyond a note(by yours truly) that there was a farmers market not 5 minutes away from our carpool meeting point that morning.

I believe the best part of the day was while we were eating lunch at a local noodle joint Mr. Noodle(the iced barley tea was terrible).

There, I had the pleasure of explaining the term "booty call" to a young(16) girl. The president of the BWI chapter at my school, a shy, sheltered, and easily flustered(my favorite trait) little thing, had her hands full trying to put a block on my graphic explanation, at once busy trying to stop the younger girl from listening to me, and at the same time taking time out to blush at my examples and illustrations, some which featured her(the president) in the starring role.

I met new people, flustered some women, and ate something new. It was a good day.

Emotions

Today, my friend(lets call him Wolf) told me that I need to care more about things. Actually, his exact words were:

Wolf: "You need to care. Period." I was slightly confused.

Teko: "I do care about things. I care 'bout you guys, right?" You guys referring to the group of friends we just parted with.

Wolf: "Do you? Really?" He seemed disbelieving.


Teko: "I'm driving you home, aren't I? Not to mention I drove out to the back end of nowhere to see you guys after my 12 hour workday." I didn't mention that I hadn't had lunch or dinner, breakfast was a slice of toast and some OJ. I was starving like the guy sleeping on a park bench. I know, because I shared that bench with him before.(For the record, it is better to sleep on the bench than under it. The bench being elevated keeps you warmer; the cold ground sucks the heat out of you. Words of wisdom from the homeless.)

Wolf: "Oh."

The conversation went on, with me asking about what he thought I should care about more, but...I don't believe it to be relevant, just more idle banter to fill the space on the trip home.

As far as I know, I do care about things. I care about lots of things. I care about my friends, my family, my material possessions, etc etc. Oh, and myself, can't forget about myself.
But after a little thought, I believe I know what he meant.

I grew up in an environment where emotions are not to be expressed, lest it be taken as a sign of weakness. In its place is a policy: Actions speak louder than words.

I show that I care through my actions. Any of my friends who might ever run across this might think back on what I have done for you, then judge me again. However, they do say that good deeds are soon forgot. Those that say otherwise are probably in a habit of advertising their good deeds. I don't.

I'm not a very expressive person. Fact is, I'm one of those people who bottles up everything inside. I don't talk much, nor am I much of a hit at parties. My humor is sarcastic at best, and coldly cynical normally. And I always tend to see the darker side of things. And worst of all(apparently, as told by above friend), I'm brutally honest.

Being an inexpressive person isn't all bad. I've become very observant about my surroundings and interactions. because I'm so quiet and inexpressive, people don't really pay much attention to me. It does wonders for my social life(sarcastic), but also it allows me to think more about what's happening, who's doing what, why this or that failed, and solutions to problems that friends have.

As a result, when people have problems, I'm the last place they come to for advice. I say the last place for two reasons. One, they won't have a problem after I'm done with them. Two, they have to put up with my haranguing and insulting remarks on their intelligence and their stupidity that caused the problem in the first place(which hurts, because my remarks will be true) while I explain to them what to do.

Should I be more expressive and diplomatic in my attitude? Most people will answer "Yes."

Those that answer "No" have come to the same conclusion that I have: Diplomacy can never get the point across that someone is being an idiot like a slap to the head will.

I'll probably die friendless and alone in a house full of cats, but somehow, I think I'll be fine with that.


Like House, MD. said once, Wednesday is hooker night.

Odd jobs

Due to some great stroke of luck in my birth, I've never experienced much in the way of financial woes(beyond lawyers suing my family, which to this day gives me a great hatred for that field of work), nor do I ever expect to worry about money on the future. That said, I still need to work, if only to prove to myself that I'm not as spoiled as my father says I am.
Like any middle class child in the US, I've held many odd jobs working for minimum wage. I've done fast food, waiting tables, barista, general clerk, IT, courier, warehousing, etc. Unlike other middle class children, I didn't need the money I was working for. I only wanted the experience of working; I worked for work's sake. When I received my paychecks, I promptly went home and handed them over to my mother, who would make them disappear somewhere.
Ridiculous? Not to me. I've never wanted for anything in my life(except when I was a horny bastard in high school, and still am, but that doesn't count). Pretty much everything I wanted, I've received, or realized I didn't really need.

That said, I recently realized that this situation has lead to me to the possession of a rather varied and somewhat skewed skill set. I can literally do a little of everything, but nothing well.

Computers, accounting, carpentry, construction, security, architectural design...I have done work in all these fields and more. To what end, I know not, but I do know that with the way this recession is going, I couldn't find a job to save my life, except in foreclosure. Exactly where I am now.

Wow, those lock picking lessons from that security job sure came in handy.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Laptops(Notebooks!) in College

During the summer before my freshman year of college, I purchased a new laptop from Dell. With the options and upgrades I chose, it cost me about $1200USD. Nowadays, 4 years down the line, one could get an equivalent laptop(or notebook, because you're apparently not supposed to put them on your lap anymore, seeing as it might burn you) at any reasonably sized retailer for about $600USD.

The point? Laptops are now more accessible to students than ever before, and with the advent of the netbook, it seems that the trend will continue.

But the real focus of this post isn't how cheap laptops are today, but their use by the students who purchase them. I brought my laptop to school everyday for the first semester of college, but left it at home from the second semester onward. Why?

It was just too distracting. I never got anything done at school when I had my laptop around. I didn't pay attention to lectures, did shoddily on in class activities and assignments, and probably lost a lot of participation points. And from what I could see around me, I was hardly alone. If anything, the people(person) who actually did work on their laptops were(was) the rare breed.

My first semester was terrible, grade wise. But my Facebook page looked great.

-Posted from a Computer Lab PC during Class

No HOPE

Remember those popular HOPE posters from Obama's campaign? Well now you can be OBAMA'd too!
All it takes is a picture of yourself and with a bit of processing, you can become a TIME magazine cover.

They also do posters in green, like the Iranian Green Party ones. Check it out at Obama.me. You have to register for some reason or the other, but it takes about 5 seconds. I've used it for about 15 minutes, and the only piece of spam I've received was the confirmation email.

Pants

I often think it unfair that women can carry purses, those impossibly deep black holes from which anything and everything might emerge. Since high school, I found my self wishing that I had a way to carry a large number of objects on my person without having to resort to a backpack. Living in SoCal, men could carry messenger bags and attache cases, but doing so casually(non-work related reasons) can and will promote insults along the lines of "man-purse" and "murse," and queries as to the state of one's manhood. Not to mention that the bag bounced around as soon as one began to move with any measure of speed. So messenger bags were unacceptable.

I tried many things, the worst being those imbecilic string bags that people wear as wannabe backpacks now a days, you know, this kind:

I even used an Vietnam era M-14 bandoleer, which worked out pretty well, but looked odd.

I eventually settled on a long black trench coat I had received as a gift from a friend. That worked excellently, as it had deep, roomy pockets that could fit just about anything. It also doubled as a blanket, capable of doing anything a blanket could, but looking more stylish than any blanket ever could(I thought). However, the coat tended to draw suspicious looks from people, and made me more recognizable than I cared to be. Despite its drawbacks, I probably would have kept wearing it even to this day had it not been for my ex-girlfriend running off with it. She denies it to this day, of course, but we know the truth(maybe).

After my beloved coat went missing(I've been accused of missing the coat more than the girl. It's true.), I got to thinking. What do women carry in their purses that men have to carry too? Well, that was obvious: wallet, keys, cellphones, ipod(this was before the advent of media phones), etc. Now where did men carry these essential items? Why, in our pants, of course! Along with everything else that's important! Pun intended.

As a side note, I don't believe women(in my area, at least) to be able to carry this stuff in their pants pockets, for several reasons: they're wearing shorts with small pockets, their jeans are so tight it the pants may burst if one tried to fit more than a credit card or three in them, or their pants don't even have pockets(unimaginable for men's trousers)! As it is, I'm not really complaining. Women's pants do excel at one thing: showing off their legs.

By this time, I had begun my college career, and it just so happens that there was(and still is) a military surplus store about a block away from my college campus. I thought to myself, "If a man couldn't find pants with large pockets at Mil-Surplus store, he might as well shoot himself."

Turns out, I'm still here, and I'm wearing the best pair of pants a man could hope for. Double and triple stitching, with bartacks all over the place. The pockets edges are reinforced for knife clips(I had previously experienced wear and tear due to said knife clips on other pants, so this was extremely welcome.), and the seat and knees of the pants are double thickness heavy cotton canvas(or nylon, whichever). Best of all, it had a pair of side cargo pockets and back pockets that could pretty much hold a paperback novel apiece. Not just any paperback either, I'm talking War and Peace, unabridged.

To this day, I'm still wearing the same goddamn pair of pants I first purchased 3 years ago, and they're structurally damn near brand new, if looking a tad faded. I now own five pairs of the same pants, (all different colors), which I switch off every 3 days. I've got so much stuff in those pockets, I gain 5lbs when I put them on. I wear them to work, to school, around the house, in the back woods, when I go running...I wear them to damn near anything that doesn't call for me to be in a suit or buck naked.

So right now, I just want to express my gratitude to 5.11 Tactical, makers of the 5.11 Tactical Pants.
If you get a chance to try on a pair, please, do so. You won't be disappointed.

the neat tag that comes with the pants.

Which Way Back North?

My buddy Pete is a blogger/journalist for his school newspaper. He's also fancies himself to be a webcomic writer/artist. The cool thing about his comics is that his characters are all based off of people that he knows. Actually, the comic is all about the people that he knows. Here's his artistic interpretation of me:

I can't vouch for it's accuracy, but I'll tell you one thing: all of our friends instantly recognized it to be me.
Check his blog out here. His webcomic, titled Which Way Back North, can be found on it's homepage, http://whichwaybacknorth.com. The site hasn't been updated in a while though, but all the latest strips can be found on his blog. Don't tell him how you found his site though, he doesn't know I blog.

Modern Warfare 2 Midnight Release!

"What am I doing here?"
I've asked myself at least 15 times since I walked in here tonight. Thousands, if not millions of gamers are flocking to their local game stores tonight for the anticipated release of Modern Warfare 2. I seemed to have been caught up on this madness, my camp chair sitting on the back seat of my car as I browse through the store. The line isn't as long as I expected to be.




Related: My friend actually started work at this store tonight.




First day at work! She's so happy!

Only another 50 minutes to go!


Ninja edit:

The fruit of mine labors:




Recieved the game and was out of the store by 0005hrs. Finished the game under normal difficulty at 0545hrs.

Review: Awesome game, great story, too many enemies. A good portion of missions leave you outnumbered some 20 to 1, which means you're mostly running from checkpoint to checkpoint hoping you don't get your ass shot off. There's too little of the stealthy objective based or force-on-(equal)force gameplay of the first game. I'm not saying there isn't any stealth or force-on-force gameplay, only that there was not enough of it. IW could have replaced some bits of the Rio "running for my life" missions with stealth or force-on-force. And with the number of enemies, even on normal mode, if you try sticking your head out of cover for a 5 count, you will be dead by 4, if not 3. I don't even want to play any of the higher levels(but I will at some point), cause then I might as well save them the trouble and shoot myself. I suppose I should be happy there's no Mile High Club equivalent this time, because it will damn near be impossible to complete it.

First one was better, campaign wise. Multiplayer yet to be evaluated.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

iPhone Blogpress app test

I was at the supermarket the other day and I saw this sign posted on a small side wall in the produce section.




What is the world coming to? Even getting up in the morning is going to require a Prop 65 warning soon.

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raison d'etre

As a new entrant to adult society, I find myself cherishing the memories of my recently passed younger days. For several reasons, I'd never thought I'd live to see age 18, much less 21, but now that I'm here and the shadows past, I find myself somewhat lost in the responsibilities of adult life, though mitigated by the fact I still live at home with the 'rents.

I write this blog to preserve the memories of today, for tomorrow and the tomorrows to come. 10 years down the line, I'll look back and read what I wrote 10 years ago, and remember how easy/hard it was back now compared to how hard/easy it is now later.

For a first post, I think it appropriate to write a briefly thorough(hard to imagine, I know) description of me, drawing from what I've gathered from others.

I'm told I've a very vicious mindset. I prefer to think of it as being coldly logical. I've never been a social person because of this, as I don't usual show much in the way of emotion. I may sometimes act differently though, but mostly for show. Sometimes, things just require a different approach. One of my closer friends, after witnessing my interactions with two different social groups, called me "Two-Face." I admit it is appropriate.

An avid reader, I often find myself going out and purchasing a dozen books on a subject I'm interested in at the moment, reading half before my interest is caught by something else, the cycle beginning anew.

I almost never leave the house without a Leatherman, a small self aid kit, and a folding knife. Said knife bothers my mother to no end. It does in turn bother me that I worry my mother, but I'd prefer to worry my mother and be armed and ready than be unarmed and (relatively)helpless with my relieved mother at home.

I'm something of a causal backpacker and I enjoy the outdoors. I also fish, but rarely do I catch anything. Recent interests include parkour and lock picking, though it could be argued that they are simply renewed interests. One is because I find myself somewhat out of shape, the other is more or less for (all perfectly legal)work.

Trying to look objectively at myself, I believe I'm something of a grab bag, filled a few very good things, some okay things, some bad things, and a few very bad things. What these things are specifically will only be slowly be revealed in future blog posts, it ever. Hopefully, as this blog gets older, the good things will increase as the bad things decrease.

Testing out the Blogspot

A test post for templates.