Yay Me!

I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. Turns out a couple of recent posts got me a little bit of attention from some heavy hitters in the blogosphere.

Never one to miss an opportunity for an Attaboy, my buddy Jay G linked me up for my post about "politically charged" music. That started the old Sitemeter to moving pretty good.

Then the wheels started falling off when my post on open carry got me some linky-love from Sebastian over at Snowflakes In Hell!

Between the two, I've gotten more traffic so far this week (which started on Sunday) than I normally do in an entire week!

Thanks for the links, fellas. Being the attention-hound and comment-whore that I am, I'm on Cloud Nine right now, and probably will be for a couple days! It means a lot, though. Really.

**********************

In other news, y'all prayin' types say a little prayer for me. The rest of y'all wish me luck. My first physical therapy appointment is tomorrow; the first of what is likely to be a long process in making my knees more useful than just a barely functional joint that constantly hurts. To be completely honest, I'm scared. After the day I had at work today, my knees hurt like hell (i.e., more than usual) and they will tomorrow morning, too. Just in time for my first PT visit.

But it's not the pain I'm worried about...

*fear*



tweaker

Ruminations on Open Carry

I would love to carry my gun without concealment from time to time. The idea of not having to constantly worry about printing or revealing my pistol altogether would be gone, and I could relax a bit.

Texas is one of very few states that flat do not allow open carry, even if you have a license to carry a concealed handgun. There's a movement in the gunnie world right now to change that, and I hope it goes well.

You see, since 1995 when licensed carry of concealed handguns first came about, citizens who carried firearms for safety were (and to this day, still are) a political minority. They were not a silent minority by any means, but certainly retaining a bit of anonymity since the guns being carried were concealed. Since then, the number of ordinary folks carrying guns has increased exponentially (and has included me since 09/07).

Well, as it turns out, open carry has been legal in most states for years, with many of those states allowing OC without having to have a carry permit. Strangely, open carry has not enjoyed the same expansion that concealed carry has. In fact, at a glance it seems quite the opposite. Most folks who live in states that allow open carry don't even know it. And of those that do, many choose not to for fear of being unlawfully harassed by the very officers sworn to uphold the law.

I was reading a post over at Sebastian's place concerning the thoughts of folks over a woman in Lebanon, PA who open carried at a kids' soccer game and caught hell for it, and got to thinking about the idea of open carry. This is the kind of thing I'm talking about. Unfortunately for Mrs. Hain, it was preventable.

I remember what the coach that taught my Driver's Ed. course in high school used to say about driving at night. He said, "Don't overdrive your headlights!" Because your headlights only provide you with so much distance of viewable road at night, it is wise to slow down as an adjustment to the lower visibility. I'm all for open carry, and I do believe that, with enough people being seen with a sidearm, eventually folks will get used to it.

But don't overdrive your headlights.

Moving forward with an open carry movement is going to take a long time. There's going to have to be a considerable period of adjustment for the average John/Jane Q. Public to not be bothered by the sight of a gun unaccompanied by a badge (or at least not bothered enough to freak out about it).

Eventually, with enough exposure, people can get used to just about anything. But things go pear-shaped for your cause when you start force-feeding people with it; even if it you don't force-feed them intentionally. It's no different than gay pride parades.

(I can hear it now. "OH SHIT. He's going THERE...")

Yup. You read right. Gay pride parades are nothing more that a chance for homosexual men and women to force-feed their gayness on you. They aren't trying to convert you or anything, but they want the shock-value of a whole slew of homosexuals with signs and stickers and shirts chanting, "We're here! We're queer! Get used to it!"

I hate to say it (as do most gun-owners), but open-carrying to a kids' soccer game is going to come across as trying to push a political agenda no differently. Regardless of the fact that she'd done it before. Like Sebastian said in his own comments section:

This isn’t gay people getting married, this is this guy. Dose he have a right to do that in a free society? Absolutely. Will I protest if the police haul him off to prison? Yes. But is he a good public face for the gay rights movement? Absolutely not. (Emphasis mine)

I'm not suggesting that we cower down and only OC in restaraunts where OC is encouraged on OC night every third Thursday of the month. I'm also not suggesting or condoning that gun owners distance themselves from this incident. The fact is, Mrs. Hain was operating completely within the bounds of the law. She was exercising her right, as recognized by Pennsylvania law, and we as gun owners should support her in having her license to carry concealed returned to her. If she's smart, she will have learned her lesson and will be more selective about how she carries in public. If not, she's most likely one of these "SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED!!!1!!ONE!" types and will screw it up for herself entirely.

Like I said, I'm all for open carry. I hope that Texas passes legislation that allows her citizens to openly carry firearms, and I would look forward to that every third Thursday thing.

As a start.

We'll get to soccer games in a few years. Don't overdrive the headlights!



tweaker

Happy Anniversary!

Makes me wish I had something more than beer to celebrate with. It is Oktoberfest season...

So, while working up a post on open carry this evening which will be tomorrow's post, I was trying to remember just when I got my CHL in the mail last year, and I remembered posting about it. Turns out, as of today, I have had my CHL for exactly one year!

W00T!!!

I still carry the same pistol in the same rig, and I still love it.

And I still want more (anniversary present, anyone?:)

In the last year, I haven't killed anyone. I haven't gone on any wild rampages in churches or schools. I haven't shot up anyone's car on the road. I haven't used my gun to threaten or intimidate. I haven't threatened anyone with my gun. I've only reached for it twice, and both times I never even cleared the holster before I knew it was a false alarm. No one's seen me carrying, and there's no blood in the streets.

I figure if my gun was going to possess me, it's had an entire year to do it. If it hasn't done it by now, I'd guess the streets are safe.



tweaker

On My Mind

For quite some time now, something's been bothering me.

See, I have lived and died by music for the better part of my life. I am a fan of more than just many, many different types of music. I'm a fan of music itself. Kinda like how Brigid is a fan of food, or JayG is a fan of guns. It's a very general thing.

There is very little I don't enjoy listening to. Right now, I'm listening to Insane Clown Posse, and in a few I'll change over to iTunes to shuffle some heavy metal. My collection spans every imaginable contemporary genre, and at least some of everything that preceded. I've got it covered from Mudvayne to Mozart, from Lords of Acid to the Lyle Lovett, from Prince to Pink Floyd. There's little in the way of music that I don't visit regularly.

I can take a lot in the way of content in music, but I've got my limits on just about everything. For instance, what used to be just "alternative" split into several sort of sub-genres including emo. I do NOT listen to emo, because I cannot stand the way those whiny bitch-boys cry on the radio about how they broke up with their girlfriend or their parents got a divorce. A promoter I used to work with called that crap "safety-punk" (defined as 'I broke up with my girlfriend' music instead of 'the President is a cock-sucking fuck-face' music).

I've had my fill of bands who have dedicated their careers to political music. Particularly because by today's standards, "politically charged" means "George W. Bush sux."

Let's take System Of A Down as an example. I bought their first album. Remember that one? With "Sugar" and "Ddevil" on it? I love that album. I still listen to it every once in awhile (in fact, iTunes is playing it right now).

Well, I do not have any other albums from that band. Why? It's not because they hate Dubya. It's because that's all they talk about anymore. I can't stand to hear anything after that initial self-titled album, and on the rare occasions that I listen to FM radio, if I hear any System Of A Down songs, I change the channel.

(Ahh. Queensryche's "Silent Lucidity". Can you believe that was the first Queensryche song I ever heard? No, I wasn't living under a rock. I was just 11 years old when that album came out!)

From System Of A Down's "BYOB (Bring Your Own Bombs)":

Why don't Presidnent's fight the war, why do they always send the poor?

Give me a break. If you're going to get into the strategic aspects of war, you'd better do your homework. It'll help you not to look like a moron. Guess what, asshole? Generals aren't on the frontlines, either. And, since our entire military (there on a volunteer basis, BTW) has a pay-scale, everyone at the bottom of the totem pole gets paid the same regardless of how much money they had before they enlisted.

Geez.

You want politically charged? Try "Holy Wars: The Punishment Due" by Megadeth. Environment got you bugged? Dr. Tweaker prescribes "Blackened" by Metallica. Tired of the constant barrage of church and state breathing down your throat? Who couldn't use "Fucking Hostile" by Pantera on repeat for an hour or so? That kind of stuff is enough to make me look past the composers' personal politics.

(Judas Priest "Touch Of Evil" Live just found its way into the iTunes cue. SWEET!)

But when some assclowns like Green Day are gonna lecture me on the ins and outs of Washington, D.C. and then have the audacity to try and convince me that some bleeding heart moron is gonna fix it all? Go back to the bong there, Billy Joe. Leave the thinking to the grown-ups.

I don't look to music for political purposes. A great deal of musicians vote Democrat (which is the mother of all irony given Tipper Gore's party choice), so the boulevard de Liberal is not a road I want to be pointed down. I don't look to music for information at all, actually. What I do like is for my music to move me. Whether that's a gentle swaying or a violent shaking, whether I'm moved to pride or sorrow, whether I laugh or grit my teeth.

And since I can't think of a decent way to end this as my train of thought just completely derailed, I'll leave you with another video from one of my favorite (and most inspiring) bands, Dragonforce. This song, made ultra-famous by its appearance in Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock, is fast, heavy, and quite beautiful (and I swear, if by some sort of destiny, it just started playing in the random cue in iTunes!!!). I give you "Through The Fire And Flames".

Enjoy! Even if that sort of thing ain't your cuppa tea, watch the guitar solos that start at 3:21. Amazing! This is the song that made me a Dragonforce fan.





tweaker

Reasoned Discourse

Thanks to a link at Unc's place, I was inclined to write the following email to the editor of FactCheck.org:

Given the title of your website, FactCheck.org, and your interest in Barack Obama's position on firearms in general, I present you with actual facts.

Concerning Obama's quote:

"The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals."


The reality of gun ownership is no different for any gun owners. This statement can only be made out to assume that Obama has no interest in what HE CONSIDERS "hunting" guns. The emphasis there is for a reason.

For starters, what Obama considers to be a hunting gun is of no concern to hunters nationwide. A hunting gun is, quite simply, a gun that a hunter uses for hunting. That definition is strictly and solely subjective; determined by the hunter, not the regulator. The idea of a firearm being considered by anyone as a "hunting" gun is a fallacy, and is subject to extremely zealous scrutiny by those who have nearly no knowledge on the subject. This is true based on the numerous demands by the anti-gun crowd (for which Obama is no-doubt a part of, provable by his voting history) for a ban on "armor piercing" ammunition. Surprise, surprise, anti's. Nearly every round available in rifle caliber can pierce the measly armor worn by the typical on-duty police officer. Because that armor is designed to stop slow-moving projectiles, such as that which is produced by handguns (a device upon which a ban is repeatedly called for). Rifles and rifle caliber ammunition (from the tiny .223 Remington up to the veritable .50BMG) is specifically designed to have a flat trajectory, high velocity, and retain as much energy as possible for distances far exceeding 100 or even 200 yards. These ballistic achievements are not for the purpose of the lawless destruction of human life, but the lawful, humane, and acceptable taking of game animals.

Again, I'm just presenting facts.

Next, firearms ownership is not - repeat that, NOT - limited to matters of hunting or sporting purposes. Self-defense is of the utmost reasoning behind gun ownership, a fact upheld by recent Supreme Court precedent. So whether a firearm is "considered" a worthy of sporting purpose is irrelevant, pursuant to the Supreme Court and the Bill of Rights. The citizens of urban Cleveland have at least as much right to any and all firearms as those in rural Ohio, if not more. The rural citizens have to deal with those creatures that roam wild in rural Ohio. The citizens of urban Cleveland have a colder, more calculating aggressor: the common criminal.

"Assault weapons" are excruciatingly regulated by current federal law, and a ban is in place on assault weapons manufactured after 1986. Furthermore, according to the FBI, weapons that actually qualify as assault weapons accounted for less than 1% of crimes committed that involved firearms. So, there are already sufficient laws in place that make it illegal for convicted felons to possess an AK-47. In fact, the same laws prevent felons from owning any firearm. Period.

The solution to crime in this or any country is NOT to ban things. In this case, there is already laws or legal precedent in place that prevents the possession of firearms (on paper). Like it or not, the old adage is true: ban firearms, and only the bad guys will have guns. That goes for every imaginable type of firearm, from the $100 .22LR that fathers buy their children, to the $8,000+ .50BMG long-range rifle; from the cheapest Mossberg or Remington shotgun, to $50,000+ Westley Richards & Co. side-by-side; whether collectible or functional, whether for hunting or for personal defense. Not only that, but the idea of keeping "military" weapons out of the hands of citizens was prevented by the same case law that many anti-gunners thought kept them strictly in the hands of the militia: Miller specifically protected firearms in common use by the military.

So, do not try and convince American gun owners, regardless of purpose, that Barack Obama respects the Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States, because he simply does not.

And before you go off on a tangent about just another Republican whackjob attacking Obama, konw this: I am NOT a Republican.



(speakertweaker)
Texas



tweaker

Christmas in September

Literally. When asked by my In-Laws what we wanted for Christmas this year, The Wifey had a light-bulb moments and mentioned season passes to a theme park. Since we have two to choose from in San Antonio (Six Flags: Fiesta Texas and Sea World San Antonio), she brought the idea home to me.

I figured that with The Little Girl's age (5), she's a perfect candidate for Sea World. They've got a few rides, but not so many that she has to regularly hear, "You're not big enough for that." She loves sea critters, too; she wants to "take care of the dolphins" when she grows up, a decision made after seeing the dolphin show at the Texas State Aquarium.

So let it be written, then. Sea World it was.

At most theme parks, one of the benefits of purchasing season passes after school starts is that, while you're purchasing for the following year, you get the remainder of this year included. So, when my In-Laws got us 2009 passes, we get the remainder of 2008 as well.

My Father-In-Law, never being one to turn down a bargain, figured that we'd get the most bang-for-the-buck if they gave us our passes as soon as they got them.

Well, we used them for the first time yesterday. We started the day off by telling The Little Girl where we were going, and had our bacon-and-eggs breakfast shortly there after. A few formalities aside, and we were on our way.

There is so much for a five-year-old to see at this place. Okay, I loved it, too. A team of Budweiser Clydesdales lives there (an absolute sight to behold if you are familiar with horses but have never seen one standing over six feet tall!). There's a Cirque du Soleil-esque show called Viva! featuring Baluga Whales and Atlantic White-Sided Dolphins. Here's a shot of the dolphins from that show:


Truly magnificant animals, dolphins. They're smarter than liberals.

There were many different exhibits and shows, too numerous to list here.

There were also rides. From the smallest 30-second rollercoaster to the monstrous Steel Eel and the requisite water rides, there is plenty to keep folks entertained. I took the opportunity to ride Great White, an inverted steel coaster (meaning you ride under the track with your feet hanging freely beneath you) that is fast, compact, and apparently more than most folks could handle. The wait for the log ride, for instance, was over one hour. The posted wait time for Great White? 0-5 minutes. Awesome.

We waited until the last showing of Believe, this year's Killer Whale show. It featured four Killer Whales, the largest of which was, of course, Shamu:


You can see these creatures on television all day long, and never get an idea of just how amazing they are. For scale, the man standing on the other side of Shamu in the above picture is an average 6-foot guy. That is one large critter! To make the show even better, they opened the show with recognition to all members, past and present, to the United States Armed Forces.

The show was, to say the least, truly inspiring.

And the day was not without its comic relief. For instance, at closing time (8 p.m.) and after the long walk across the park from the Shamu arena, the main gates were all closed, with this sign posted in front of them:


Ah, capitalism at its finest. Nothing says you know your clientele like funnelling thousands of them through a small gift shop with small, sleepy children who will want Something, By God before they leave (despite the umpteen stuffed animals you've already acquired through your day)

Well, The Little Girl was quite a tropper. After nearly eight hours of moving through Sea World, she made it all the way through the gift shop (without asking for a single thing!) before she gave it up and needed carrying. So I cast aside attention to my throbbing knees and tired feet, and hoisted my 60lb. daughter up and carried her the rest of the trip to the car.

When we got home and downloaded all the pictures to my computer, though, it was all worth it. There is no replacement for Happy Child.



tweaker

Excuses, Excuses

I know. It's been since last Thursday, and no bloggy.

I sorry.

I've been up to my ponytail in work lately, and what's supposed to be a promotion has some strings attached, so I've had a lot weighing on my mind.

So, with all that being said...

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I was perusing the automobile section of the Intartubes the other day, looking into GM's eventual offering to the ever-shrinking world of Pony Cars, the new Chevrolet Camaro. Being a Pontiac Guy myself (I still own a 1968 Firebird), it stands to reason that I'm still hoping against hope that GM will pull their heads out of each others' asses and release a Firebird/Trans Am on the same platform.

Looks like I'm pissing against the wind on that one. I guess GM wants Pontiac to wither into obscurity alongside Oldsmobile. My God, can you imagine what a kick-back 442 would look like? Or what it would do to Dodge Charger sales? But I digress...

So, while on a Pontiac forum, I notice the sigline of one of the forum's members. It reads:

I vote Democratic, because I want my government to be there for me if I need it.

I stared at the screen for a moment, pondering the actual meaning behind such a statement. Oh, I know what that guy meant when he said it. I'm talking about the actual meaning.

That kind of statement could only have so many conclusions.

For instance, if I can't hold down any kind of decent-paying job and find myself with a McCareer, I vote Democrat just in case I need welfare.

Or, if my years of greed bad investment practices result in the imminent doom of my multi-billion dollar corporation, I vote Democrat just in case I need the Fed to bail me out.

Well, dude, if you're reading this, you're in for a bit of a wake-up call. I'll give you a minute to find a more liberal blog to read, in case you'd prefer to take the blue pill and stay in the Matrix. With a Democrat in the Oval Office, backed up with a Democrat-majority in both houses of Congress, you will have that government there if you need it.

The problem, however, comes next. You will have that government there even if you don't need it. You'll have the government probes up your ass whether you want it or not. Think, McFly! Think! What does socialism mean? Were you asleep that day in class?

Imagine a world where the wealthy are punished for being wealthy by being taxed where others are not just because they make over $200,000/year. Then imagine oil companies being taxed for making too much money, just because they acquired a product that everyone wants and has gotten too lazy to live without. Then imagine all your "free" government programs. Only, they aren't free, since the government has no way to make money. You read that right; government has no means of generating income. Government revenues come solely from taxes. Now, I don't know if you pay for health insurance, but if you do you know that even shitty coverage costs a small fortune, and it only goes up from there. So, when Uncle Sam realizes that it has to pay for all this "free" stuff, he's gonna reach into everyone's pocket to do it. Well, everyone except the folks that are already depending on the government to be there for them with the monthly welfare checks (because we can't rightly go taxing the folks who's lives we're already subsidizing, can we? That'd just be silly...).

It's called socialism, people. Wake up and smell it. And get ready, because it smells like shit. Taxing the wealthy for being wealthy isn't generosity; it's called redistribution of wealth. Windfall profits on oil companies will not reduce energy costs. The oil companies blame high gas prices on a tree falling in the fucking woods. Do you really think they won't just pass that little tax on to the price at the pump? And "free" government programs? Nothing is free. Ever. Especially when it comes from the government. Besides, do you really want free public healthcare? Have you ever used a free public restroom? Nasty, ain't it? Wonder what public health insurance would be like...

Well, Democrats just love this shit. They love the idea that you don't know what's best for you. They love the idea that there are so many folks out there that can't take care of themselves that they need a big-ass federal entity to do it for them. They love to try to put out fires with laws, and when the fires get bigger, pass more laws.

This is miles from what Democrat/Republican meant fifty years ago. Hell, it wasn't like this twenty years ago. What you've got these days is big-gov't, borrow-and-spend Republicans (who would have had a 'D' after their names before the 80's) against huge-gov't, tax-and-spend blatant Socialists.

Make no mistake. This one's for all the marbles. If Barack Obama makes it to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, he will eventually make it to your house, too. And when he gets there, he'll take your excess income, your guns, and anything that's bad for children. Soon, it'll be what's left of your privacy and anything that's bad for you. Ultimately, he'll come for your freedom. You can't very well have socialism with a bunch of cousin-humping rednecks running around with the idea in their heads that they are free, now can you?

I don't give a damn if you vote Republican, Libertarian, Green Party, Romulan, or for Elmer Fucking Fudd. Just don't vote for Obama. You'd be voting for change, all right. He'd change this nation to socialist.

And that is Change You Can Believe In.



tweaker

Once Upon A Time

When I lived in Austin, TX, I took a job as a delivery guy for an HVAC company taking gear out of our warehouse and to the various sites we had in and around Austin. Most times I was in a 1-ton van with a cargo box on the back. It was honest work, and I got my own little office with a stereo, a two-way, and a smoking section. It was a good way to fill up the last couple months on my apartment lease before we could move back to San Antonio.

Fairly regularly, we'd sell a very large commercial job, where the A/C units are very large integrated systems that are installed on the roof of the building, often several stories up. These jobs required the use of a crane to lift the heavy units up to the roof. On these jobs, I had to leave my comfortable box van behind in lieu of an old Isuzu slate truck. That thing ran (mostly), but the A/C, radio, and pretty much every non-essential feature was ancient history.

One morning, I showed up early for the crane-lift (as we called them), so I could get the hardware and get to the jobsite before the crane like we always did. Cranes are expensive as all holy hell, so we didn't want to keep them waiting. Even if it meant overtime for the warehouse drivers. Got my load on the back of the slate truck, and off to a large four-story building in North Austin.

"Good," I thought, "Crane's not hear yet." I headed to the roof, where I'd BS with the A/C guys, smoke cigarettes, and hope someone showed up with breakfast tacos. On the roof, the guys were all there as usual, uninstalling the old units and getting prepped for the arrival of the new.

Without fail, someone brings a radio to these jobs. Usually, it was one of those nice Dewalt radios that charges batteries while you listen. Today was a little odd, as everyone had their radio on the roof.

I remember that cloudy, cool morning. I remember the traffic noise from I-35 was a little lower than usual. I remember wishing I'd brought a light jacket, because it was kinda windy on top of that building.

And I remember asking what all the radios were for.

"Some asshole flew a Cessna into one of the twin towers!"

I guess you know the rest by now.

I stood on the roof of a four-story building, as the skies were eerily devoid of aircraft that should have been going in and out of Austin Bergstrom International Airport, wondering if Austin might be the next target. After all, Bush's daughters were at The University of Texas at the time. Maybe we were next?

Nope. That title would go to the Pentagon.

After the last plane went down in Pennsylvania, I was scared. I finished up the crane-lift and hi-tailed it back to the office, where I went to my boss. He was a Cobra pilot during Vietnam, so he understood war. I needed someone to explain to me what was happening.

Sometimes, I still need someone to explain to me what was happening.

Never forget.



tweaker

Difference Is...

While at the tradeshow in Denver "Obama will save us all" Colorado, I took a couple of classes. Both were 400-level (kinda like college) System Designer courses. Both were advanced courses, and both were taught by the creme de la creme of their respective fields.

But they were very different.

Today I'll cover Friday's course, Advanced Home Theater Lab. First, a couple notes: first, home theater is not a system; i.e., none of you have a home theater system in your living room. Home theater is a very specific word, and it refers to an entire room, furnished in such a fashion that the room is dedicated to viewing primarily movies. If you have a big-screen TV in your living room, and you've added a surround receiver and 5.1 channels worth of speakers, what you have is a surround system and a big-screen TV, not a "home theater system."

(I know. It sounds snobbish. Who among you sneers at those who would refer to a detachable box magazine as a "clip"? Unless it's a Winchester Model 77 Clip-fed, you'd say or think, "No, it's a MAGAZINE!" :)

In this lab, we would design a high-end theater. In groups of about six guys, we would collaborate to create the entire room and all its components. Given the dimensions of the (completely bare and empty) room and some surrounding areas and a $850,000 budget (it happens, I swear), we were to create drawings in three separate dimensions, illustrate speaker type and placement, and create a complete equipment list and place that as well. After the allotted time, we would sacrafice one of ours send a team member up to present our finished product, where one of the instructors would ask questions and point out specific problem areas to avoid.

I was looking forward to being in a class by some of the industry's most respected and talented, and I was also looking forward to being part of a team of guys that were my peers in the industry; high-level installers/project managers and designers all.

However.

What I got was stuck inbetween to primadonna assholes who seemed to have all the answers (so why take the class?). The problem was even though they both had all the right answers, none of their answers were the same.

With two hours until presentation time, these to douchbags argued the first 30 minutes away on how the room outside the theater would be set up. They were also impervious to our suggestions that they move on to, you know, the rest of the damned room. I tried on several occasions to exert my natural talents of leadership constructively, and watched as my words fell on nearly deaf ears.

It wasn't until the 15-minute discussion of theater doors started swirling the bowl with a suggestion to use double doors and make one of them permanently fixed did I interject with my (to quote A.D.) my I Will Be Obeyed Voice: "If I'm paying you $850,000 and you put a fixed door on my theater, I will immediately fire every one of your asses on the spot!"

Morons.

Again, The Voice had to be called up when we're going over the budget (with about five minutes 'til showtime) and they left a lousy $12,000 for installation, I said, "$12,000? For the installation of an $850,000 room? You guys are on fucking crack!!!"

Stupid, condescending, insufferable pricks the both of them. Me and the other three guys just trudged on. They looked at me, and I could tell they felt bad that I was stuck inbetween them. I wanted out of there, and fast.

During presentations, the two of them sat there and arrogantly laughed at the designs of the other groups. I was borderline violent at that point.

After it was over and the time came to fill out my evaluation form, I was harsh. I said that, while I highly respected the proctors of the course, I regretted having taken the class as two of my group-mates made the class unbearable. I felt bad, but I had to be honest. I don't want next year's guys to have to go through four hours of that like I did.

*******************************

Stay tuned. Next time we'll talk about Saturday's class, and maybe even mention how even someone as brilliant as me *snort* can end up paying $13 (U.S.) for one White Russian.



tweaker

Nice Chinese Food

Ever read the side of the red paper packaging that the cheap chopsticks are in at your local Chinese food establishment? It's kinda funny.

Well come to Chinese Restaurants. Please try you NICE Chinese Food With chop-stick. the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history and cultual.

1. Tuck under thumb and held firmly.
2. Add second chcostick hold it as you holding pencil.
3. Hold tirst chopstick in original position move second one up down and Now YOU can pick up anything fodd.

They really should hire a translator with a conversational grasp on the Engrish language:)

----------------------------------------

The weekend prior to my trip to Denver, The Wifey, The Little Girl, and I all went to the mall (for some reason). Some sustenance soon became important, so we hit the food court.

At this particular mall, they're doing some renovations to the food court, so the selections have become a bit limited. The only places we tend to hit there are the pizza joint and the Chinese food joint. I usually don't get the Chinese food since The Little Girl has a tendency to be picky about what she eats (I blame her mother. I'll eat damn near anything that ain't rotten:). So you can imagine my surprise when, given the choice, she turned down pizza in favor of the Asian cuisine. We were even further surprised when she told us she wanted noodles instead of rice. Go figure.

So we got ourselves three plates of stuff, grabbed the necessary condiments and eat-ware, and found a table.

The Little Girl got curious as she saw her mother and I eating with chopsticks. Never being the odd-girl-out, she had to have her own set. Fortunately, we had prepared for this by getting an extra pair, but we figured the novelty would wear off around the time she realized she was more hungry than she was interested in the sticks.

We were wrong.

We showed her a few times how it works, and when she couldn't get it we eventually tried to get her to switch back to her fork. When we gave up on that, we just started eating our own food.

"LOOK DADDY! LOOK AT ME!"

I'll be damned right out of my chair, but that little five-year-old was eating with chopsticks.

Correctly.



tweaker

There And Back Again*

So I have returned once again to The Lone Star State a weary traveler. I have journeyed to the faraway and unapologetically Obamessiah-loving land of Denver, Colorado.

I was there for one of my industry's big trade shows, CEDIA Expo. CEDIA is the Custom Electronics Design and Installation Association, and largely represents the residential side of folks in the custom electronics world (custom electronics is the uber-long list of all the different things that we do: audio, video, control, system integration, lighting control, etc.).

My flight left at 0dark30 Thursday morning, and I landed again on friendly soil at about 2300 last night.

There is much to tell, so instead of trying to cram it all into one giant post, I'll break it up into a few days' worth of blog material.

One very cool thing? While in Denver, I stopped at a record store (yes, there are still a few of those left in this country) and picked up the new release from Dragonforce, Ultra-Beatdown. Wow. Made Of Awesome. Here's the debut track:



Funny, when you walk into a record store on a mission to find that one album (yes, I still call them albums. It's my blog:), you tend to get tunnel vision. My company president accompanied me into the store while the senior programmer and one of the sales guys were trying to figure out where a manufacturer's shindig was. While on my way to the "D" section, the prez says, "Hey, while we're here we should get a bong!" In my mind, I looked at him with a huge question mark above my head, but mustered on for my long-awaited CD Full Of Happy. When I got what I needed (yay for special edition with two bonus tracks and bonus DVD!), I turned to head toward the cashiers, and realized what prompted my boss to interject with his purchase suggestion: not only was this a record store, it was a head shop as well. Big bongs. It's funny, but I'd bet there are more head shops in Denver than in any other city outside of California.

As an added bonus, when I checked out, the cashier noticed my purchase and complimented my taste. Then she went shuffling through a bin to reveal some iPod overlays of the album I bought and an additional liner notes of the album that were signed by all six members of Dragonforce. Win! Miss Phlegmmy would be proud.

So, more about the Denver adventure to come tomorrow. Stay tuned!



tweaker


*I know. Shamelessly stolen. From a fictional character no less.

No Bloggy For You

Gonna be out of town for a couple days.

More bloggy when I get back.



tweaker

Labor (Day) of Love

May people take the idea of Labor Day and screw it all up by, well, laboring. Whether it's catching up on stuff at the office (blasphemy!), doing chores around the house all day, yardwork, etc., many lose sight of the idea of Labor Day. It's supposed to be a day off. From work.

I know; why do they call it Labor Day?

Anyhoo, I too have been guilty of a little work today. The laundry's not gonna do itself, but the machines do most of the work, right?

But when The Wifey took The Little Girl off to the grocery store to procure cookie making stuff, I took the opportunity to call up a .pdf file containing the original owner's manual for a shotgun I inherited from my grandfather nearly three years ago.

It's a Sears and Roebuck pump-action 12ga., which is really a J.C. Higgins Model 20, which is really a High-Standard Model 200 (you got all that?). It's a fairly nice model, with an integrated muzzle brake and adjustable choke. I figure it would make a nice bird gun, skeet gun, or turkey gun. Basically anything short of needing slugs, I'm good for it with this shotgun.

My guess is that it's never been fully stripped and cleaned. The bore was in decent shape, but ever time I touched something inside it left black nastiness on me. So the process began.

Which included exhausting a nearly full can of Gunscrubber.

Which I unfortunately ran out of about a quarter of the way through the receiver. D'oh!

Fair enough, I have plenty of Hoppe's Elite and Hoppe's #9 on hand. And lots of patches.

I disassembled the firearm down to almost every moving part, leaving in tact only the bolt and the trigger group, which both got a major shooting of Gunscrubber. I also took the mag tube completely off the receiver/barrel and took it completely apart (I always thought the stopper would be some sort of synthetic or metal part. It's a friggin wood dowel rod!). It was very interesting to note just how similar this gun is to my Mossberg 500 on the inside.

After making the shiny things shiny and the slidy things slick, I put it all back together. Getting the slide back on top of the bolt took a little time, but once that went into place everything else just came naturally.

I'm sure the gun would have run just fine before I took it down. Now, it will run fine and start out clean. I have actually seen the internals, so I'm confident in the gun now.

Just in time to do a number on the U.N. symbol for peace;)

Pics soon.



tweaker