filler
I haven't really been inspired by anything lately to make me post something here. I think there are only a few people who read this blog, anyway. I do have a few comments from people I don't know, too. (I think the ones I don't know are funny, especially the insulting ones.) I know I look forward to seeing something on my friend's blog, although he rarely posts anything, so here's an entry that simply fills in some space. Since I don't have much to talk about, then I'll just post some random pictures, since everyone loves pictures (and Raymond). I was merely going to upload some pictures from different places, but I want to show that I've been there, so pardon the stalker-looking weird guy in the pictures.
Driving over the Golden Gate Bridge in a convertible I rented
Me and the lady who made my cake standing in the backyard of the house I rented on Maui
In Time Square posing next to a staple of New Tork City - garbage!
Me and my bro-in-law striking a (gay) pose in Times Square, NYC
Trying to look as macho as I can w/pink flowers surrounding me at the annual Sakura (Cherry Blossom) Festival in Washington, D.C.
bee gone
So you saw my
post below about the bees. You had a good laugh at my expense at imminent death from the sting of 10,000 bees. (That sounds too Arabic: “I curse you by the sting of 10,000 bees, Achmed!”) That’s okay, because I can laugh now. I told my boss the story. After she finished laughing at me, she suggested that I call the county or a beekeeper. Not a bad idea. So I got home around 7PM and started perusing the Web for beekeepers around here. I left messages for a lot of people, and spoke to a few. Talking to these people reminded me that I’m in the south, y'all. They speeeaak veeerryyy sloooowww sometimes. They start telling me what kind of bee they
think it is, asking me the color of the nest, how many are there (you know, because I was counting them???), if I’m sure they’re bees, etc. Only to tell me after I answered all the questions that they are unavailable. Until I stumbled onto the
MSBA BUMBA‘s website (Maryland State Beekeepers' Association Bowie-Upper Marlboro Beekeepers Association)! I called the president of the club, Scott, and we spoke for a little while. He told me that the nectar flow this year has attracted many swarms, that there are more bees than normal, they’re still flying later than usual, had many reports recently of hives growing, etc. He says he may be able to stop by tonight or the next day. About 30 minutes later, I heard the doorbell, and there he was! I showed him the (blech!) pile of bees. They actually started and almost finished building a roof over the nest, since I took off their old roof (the hollowed-out cat). He looks at it, pauses for a moment, and then tells me that in all his years of doing this, this is only the second time he has seen this. What? What is it??? He tells me it’s not a honeybee nest but a bumblebee nest, which is a rare find. He asks if he can have it. By all means, amigo! Heck, I even took pictures before you arrived, and I can email them to ya!!
Sorry for the blurry picture, but as you can imagine, I didn't want to stay there too long as I took a closeup shot.
The hollowed-out cat with the bumblebee's nest nearby. Been in the same position for 2 days since I discovered it - and then freaked out.
Another shot with the cement slab where my foot was standing on directly next to the bees when I picked up the cat.
So he devises a plan and asks us if we have anything to put the nest in. I figured he would have brought a smoker,
one of those uniforms that look like an astronaut’s suit but made out of net, and wooden box. He had none of that. All he needed was some Saran Wrap, a shovel, which he borrowed from my neighbor, sugar water in a sprayer, and a shoe box. He placed a piece of Saran Wrap on top of the nest, and they started buzzing like crazy (getting goosebumps as I type this). The noise is freaky enough to put in a horror movie!
There were a few bumblebees that started flying around, and he merely sprayed a little sugar water on them, and they flew back down on the ground. Then he PICKED THEM UP WITH HIS BARE FINGERS! I was creeped out, and standing back about 20 feet. This was my most un-manly hour. I asked if he’s worried about getting stung. He says these bees are very harmless, and you practically need to step on one to get stung. DAMN! I look at him, and just as he was finishing his peace-love-and-happiness spiel about bumblebees, one stung him on his neck. He simply rubbed it off and kept spraying down the errant bees. He took the shovel, and scooped them up, quickly placing them in the shoebox we had. He closed it up, taped it tightly, and that was the end of my bee situation. It was over too quick. I wanted a fight. I was looking for a long, drawn-out battle between man vs. bee. Perhaps the queen bee getting cut in half by the shovel and the soldier bees avenging her death as she spat out her last bit of pollen. But just like that? I could have done that!
Naaaaah.
Now that he has the bees, he said he would knock out a corner of a flower pot, turn it upside down, and let the bees nest in there back at his home. I found my balls and picked up the box. I felt nothing. I put it to my ear, and that whirring/buzzing/hissing sound they make when they’re agitated gave me the hee BEE jeebies (pun intended).
Ciao, bumblebees! Beekeeper’s happy; I’m happy – it’s all good in da hood.
And later that night, I was able to make my fried chicken. That’s what started this whole thing. Man they were good. Sorry, no picture. They were gone too quickly.
transporter
Just thought you'd like to know that I'm on the subway now, back to my office from a client site...
I am sitting here outside making my fried chicken. A beekeeper I found online removed the bees! Pictures to follow later. For now, it's fried
Thought you'd get a kick out of my adventure last night.
I sent this email to a few friends, and they told me to blog it for more to enjoy. I can laugh now, but what happened last night was naaaasty! Check this out:
I have TONS of chicken legs that I got at Costco a few weeks ago. I took them out of the freezer to cook. Man, didn't realize how many there were! There are several pouches stuck together, and you can tear each one apart from the other. I thought there was one leg per partition. When I took them out, no, looks like 2 legs per partition. So now that they're thawed a few hours later, I cut along the perforation, opened up one of the sections, and there were FIVE legs in there! Whoa. So I opened another partition to get 5 more and thought I'll just make fried chicken and nothing fancy. Plus, I make pretty good fried chicken. The problem is, you fry them, and the house reeks for a while. Plus, the very sensitive smoke detector goes off. On all 3 levels cuz they're all connected to each other. So I was gonna do it in the backyard with an electric deep fryer like I did once in the past. Also from Costco, I have a LARGE jug of oil. I walk out to the backyard with the jug of oil and the deep fryer. The outlet is right next to the door, but in front of the outlet is this ceramic cat my Gramma made and gave to me a couple years ago when I was in El Paso. It looks cool cuz people walking by the backyard will think I have a cat. At least I guess that's cool. Anyway, the cat is in front of the electrical outlet, so I pick it up to move it out of the way. I hear a strange "ssssssss" sound. WTF?!?! I got creeped out right away. And it's kinda dark now. Sun set an hour ago (like 9:30PM). I look down by my feet... get ready - THERE WERE A BILLION TRILLION ZILLION BEES!!!!! I friggin dropped everything and ran into the house. Ever see Ferris Buehler's Day Off when his sister runs upstairs after seeing Principal Rooney in the house? That's how I was! After I got myself collected, I turned the outside porch light on and opened the blinds & window next to the door and looked at the nest on the ground. BLECH! Damn, I'm getting the creeps typing this now!!!! Apparently, they were making a bee hive in the hollowed out cat! You can see the honeycomb and everything!!! And all these big fat yellow jacket bumblebees were crawling around. Aaaahhh!!!!! So now my jug of oil & deep fryer were sitting outside next to the bees!!! Forget that. I preheated the oven and heated up some mini-quiche and dino chicken strips. LOL! Now I need to get some bee killer stuff. YUCKY!!!!
And did I mention that I am allergic to bees? One sting, and I could be in the hospital. Or dead.
One thing I hate is when people say: "Just leave them alone, and they won't hurt you unless you bother them." Well, I can state that it is not true! I was minding my own business and was stung on three separate occasions. “What was I doing,” you ask? Well, let’s see - how about… s-l-e-e-p-i-n-g? That’s right. Not harming a soul. Back, many years ago, my Parents went out of town. I had a Halloween party. Many friends came & gone. Some helped to clean up (except for my pumpkins that someone smashed in front of the house). But I was exhausted and just crashed on the sofa in my Parents’ basement. A couple hours later, I felt as if I had a beard and someone was tugging at it hard enough for me to wake up from the pain. Unconsciously, I rubbed my neck, and there was something in my fingers. It kind of made a crunchy sound. I got up, went to the bathroom, and saw it was a bee. Now what did I do to this thing to deserve this? I looked in the mirror, saw a bump similar to a large mosquito bite on my neck, and went to sleep in pain. I woke up the next morning to find that I looked like a bullfrog on steroids. My neck was swollen to the point that it looked like I swallowed a tire. Sideways! After a few days, and a couple bottles of pink Caladryl, it went away.
Fast forward several years into the future. I’m in bed in my Parents’ basement again. You guessed it – it was like osama’s beard was on my face again, and Rumsfeld was tugging at it. Again, my hand went to my neck, and AGAIN, I felt that same crunchy feeling. I shot right up, went to the same bathroom, and it was déjà vu all over. I woke up, saw that my neck looked like Shrek’s, and called in sick to my new job. That was embarrassing. “I can’t come in, because a bee stung me in my neck.” The next day the swelling went down some, and I went to work. My boss was surprised at how swollen it was. I told her it’s much better than the day before when my neck resembled a flesh-colored
Oscar Mayer Weiner-Mobile. The next day, Friday, I was stung again. This time on my ass. I had a third butt cheek for the rest of that weekend. My Father got the hint and did something about it. He found that bees were nesting on the side of the house. Guess where? Right where my room was. Surprise, surprise.
Historic
I'm at the Lincoln Memorial right now. Check out the view Abraham Lincoln has nightly! Sorry for the grainy cell phone picture.
Ding dong! The witch is dead!
Last week, I was overjoyed to see that abu musab al-zarqawi is dead. I generally like driving to work, but I usually take the subway, because I don't want to pay $11 (plus tip) to park every time. I drove on Friday, but that day I would have been happy to take the subway to see all the people on the train reading newspapers with this image spread across the front page:
I saw the newspaper on the desk of a colleague when I arrived to my office that morning and proclaimed my happiness. Much to my chagrin, we argued why this person is bad. He gave me one of the the lines that I hate that people give me: "It depends on whose definition of bad is." Huh??? I'd say "bad" is everyone's definition when you see someone beheading innocents! Folks, when you read someone was beheaded by these madmen, we're not talking about a
guillotine. These animals use a knife and saw the heads off while the victim is alive. I would go into more detail, but I won't fearing this blog would be blocked by content filters that companies install on their network. These graphic beheadings on the Internet is what made little abu famous. I am generally numb when it comes to looking at gore, but when I saw the video of ali baba zarqawi slicing Nick Berg's head off with no emotion, I was stunned. The image didn't and couldn't leave my mind for a week. And now my coworker is arguing if he's bad?
I strongly warn you on how graphic it is, but if you haven't seen the video, go
here to see it. It's highly ironic how they do this while yelling "allah akbar." Translated, this means "god is great." I don't think God thinks this act is great.
No soup for you!
I saw this
article (
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13208549/) on the “front page” of MSNBC.com, and it interested me, because I was recently at this establishment, Geno’s, during Memorial Day weekend. When I was watching the news later on that evening, I was surprised to see the story still receiving attention. In short, the news were talking about a sticker that the owner of Geno's put up that tells you to order food in English. Coincidentally, I actually took a picture of the controversial sticker on the window and thought it has been there for a long time like the other stickers I saw. I didn’t think much about it, but the coverage made me ponder a bit more.
Let me backtrack a bit. Philadelphia’s most popular food is the
Philly cheesesteak. I saw a show on
FoodTV last year that showed the places in Philly that supposedly had the best ones. When I was in Philly, people mainly directed me to two places:
Pat’s and
Geno’s, which are located across the street from each other. If you saw the episode of Seinfeld with the
Soup Nazi, you will understand that there’s a specific way of ordering food. You clearly state what you want, have cash ready, move down, and grab your food. This is how it is at these establishments. There are even “
rules” displayed on how to order.
It was amusing to watch people
literally practicing what to say while standing in the very long line before they reached the counter. I will admit, I rehearsed it in my mind a couple times.
The ironic thing is they spell the rules out with the Philly slang. If you want a cheesesteak with Cheez Whiz and onions, you say “Wiz wit.” If you want a cheesesteak with Provolone cheese without onions, you say “Prov wit-out.” It’s cute. You feel like an East Coaster. And then you eat good food. This place is a staple for Philly, so Philadelphians and non-Philadelphians come to share the experience. I saw people of all races there. A cab full of people from India got out while I was in line. In other words, it’s also a tourist spot.
As you may know, I was in China last month. There was a place located in a
hutong (a kind of alley) in Beijing that was similar where people would stand in long lines for a chance to eat the food. (I can’t remember what the specialty is, but I think it was something related to turtle.) If the ordering was anything like the Soup Nazi’s, I wouldn’t know; I can’t read the characters. I would merely point to what everyone else had and wait for my food.
And then you have this tough guy at Geno’s with his “This is America. When ordering, please speak English” sticker. I am a proponent for immigrants learning the language. But what if you’re a tourist? What if you just immigrated that day, and your buddy in Philly thought this would be a nice way to break the ice? Ironically, it says to “speak English” yet “wit” and other slang there is not a correct English word. Yes, I’m nitpicking… but so is he. My experience watching people there who were American and speak perfect English needing to dumb down their vocabulary and were intimidated to order would make me imagine someone from another country would be downright scared!
I saw the owner,
Joseph Vento, on TV saying he had parents who came here from Italy, they had to learn the language, blah, blah, blah. I think he would be more sympathetic then. And this article says: “Vento said his staff is glad to help non-native speakers order in English.” Imagine this: you’re at the counter, there’s a long line behind you, the large tattoo’ed guy behind the glass yells at you asking for your order, you hurry up to speak, you don’t know the language, and you point to a cheesesteak. Do you really think they are going to come out to coach you? You’ll probably get a big fat NEXT screamed at you! Back to the end of the (long) line, buddy.
Anyway, that’s my rant for today. If you Google Pat’s and Geno’s, you will see debates whether whose cheesesteak is better. My vote goes to Pat’s across the street, hands down. If you’re curious why, it’s because the cheese is on top as opposed to the bottom of the meat, the sandwich is slightly bigger, and it just tastes much better. My favorite is "Wiz wit and shrooms." And here's a tip - go to the Mexican place next to Geno's for your drinks. No line, and they have delicious fruit nectars. Quite honestly, though, my favorite Philly cheesesteak is actually at Dave & Buster's in Addison, IL. LOL! Enjoy the pictures. Warning - you may develop a craving for cheesesteak But that's okay, because they are both open 24 hours/day. You just need to get there.
Pat's cheesesteak
Geno's cheesesteak
Back the next day for some more Pat's - "Prov wit & shrooms" and cheese fries this time
Smile - you're on (blurry) candid camera!
This happened a week ago, but I’m going to vent now.
We were invited to a wedding near Princeton, NJ during Memorial Day weekend. We decided to make it a mini-vacation and spend more time out there. Xixi toured Princeton University with her friend, and I hung out in nearby Philadelphia. Later, we all got together, and we met my friend and his fiancé. I haven’t seen Mark in years, and he is a fellow auto-enthusiast. He complimented my car. (Stay tuned, it’s a valid part of the story.)
My car was put to good use that weekend. It’s May, the weather is very warm, and several hundred miles later, my car was caked in bugs. So I hand-washed my car on Memorial Day when we returned. It’s been years since my car looked this good, and I didn’t even wax it. I was even starting to think about adding a front spoiler under the front of car to give it a better look, maybe some HID headlights to see better at night, a better sound system to crank up my music when the windows are down and the moon roof is open while driving fast, and all of these other things that would make my car more enjoyable. I have been neglecting my car. My car still looks darn good!
But then I woke up and just Armor-All’ed the tires, so they look clean along with the rest of the car.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006 - The next day, it was business as usual: we drove to the subway station (parked the car at 8:55AM), took the subway into work, came back, and… there’s a large scrape on the rear-driver’s side. It’s white, and my paint is black. Damnit! I took a couple pictures from my camera phone and called 911.
Cheesy low quality pictures from my phone
The 911 operator tells me it’s a hit & run and that I can call from home; I may be sitting there for a long time waiting for an officer to arrive. Officers respond in order of priority, and it’s already busy. Fine. Before leaving the parking garage, I speak to the person who is running that place at the moment. He was a good guy and tried to help me. He called his boss and told him “This car is very well kept. You have to see this thing. Almost 10 years old and not a speck of dust. But there’s a large scrape on the side, so let’s help Mr. Alvarez.” Very cool of him. I told him where I was parked and stated that I saw a video camera located a few parking spots from my car. He gave me all his information and told me someone should contact me the next day after reviewing the film. Outstanding.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006 – I received a call from his boss telling me he saw what happened and asked me if I would like to look at the video. Hell yeah! We caught him!! I’m going to have my car fixed, this guy’s going to get a ticket for hit & run, and I am going to be happy. He tells me to meet him tomorrow, Thursday, at 6PM. Excellent. In the meantime, I go home. On the way home, I called 911 again, because I never did the day before. I tell them what happened (again), and they tell me it’s not their responsibility and that I need to speak to the Metro Police. I told her that the 911 operator yesterday told me to call 911 to have an officer come out, but okay, if that’s the procedure. So she transfers me to Metro Police. I tell the story (again) to Metro Police, and they give me the e-x-a-c-t s-a-m-e l-i-n-e. “We’re not responsible, and you need to call 911. I’ll transfer you.” Okay, this is annoying. But who cares? We have the person on video hitting my car! Transfer away, baby!! I tell my story (AGAIN!) to the 911 operator, and she sends an officer. She also says this is not Metro Police’s responsibility and that they will take care of it.
I’m home, and I hear the doorbell. Hooray! I tell the story to the officer (a-g-a-i-n), and she tells me that she can’t create a hit & run report, because I have no description of the vehicle that hit me. I told her it’s white and showed her my car. She said she needed a better description; is it a white car? Truck? What? For now, she can give me a case number that I can provide to my insurance. Repair costs would come out of my pocket, because it’s property damage and not a hit & run report. Whatever, the video will reveal all! I thanked her, and she gave me her card with the case number written on it. Oh, the joy I will have when I see the culprit hitting my car tomorrow! On video!!
Thursday, June 1, 2006 – I’ve been antsy all day. This is so cool. It’s like CSI Bowie, MD. Fingerprints, semen samples, DNA, pie charts, caught on video… we have the person! I leave work early to be sure I’m on time. 6PM, and I meet the person at the garage. He asks me if I was wearing a blue shirt. Yes, I was! Yep, he has the right car. He tells me I parked at 8:55AM, I was hit at 4:17PM, and I arrive to my car at 6:33PM. This is great! He gives me a chair. I refused it. I’m too excited. He gives it to me anyway and tells me to be comfortable. The guy operating the “camera 12” video is putting me on the edge of my seat. He keeps clicking the mouse, and Clicking, and CLICKING. The anticipation is killing me! He clicked too much. He skipped the whole part of the video by hours.
He goes back by clicking, and clicking, and cli… Okay, he finds the spot. I notice the video is not a smooth video but snap shots every few seconds. Like if you were walking, you would only see a picture of yourself every several feet. Anyway, he has my car in view. I can see myself driving, and then the next shot is my car in the parking space. This is great! The next shot is Xixi & I walking. Awesome! He clicks fast forward to around 9:30AM, and you can see a black Mercedes pull into that spot. There he is!!!!! Wait… black? Paint on my is white. The guy says he may have some white in that area of the car. Um, yeah, cool! Keep fast forwarding, my man! He keeps clicking, and clicking, and clicking until 7PM. Aah! He over clicked. Okay, he backs up. Man, this is getting annoying. Now I’m glad I have the chair. Okay, here we go. We see the person. It’s a black guy. That’s all you can really say. He is in the black Mercedes. Next shot is him actually hitting my car. Incredible! Next shot is a ¾ view of his car pulling out. And finally, the money shot…. the front end of his car! Yee haw!! I wanted to hi-5 everyone in that room. Okay - pause. It’s very blurry. Let’s zoom in on the tag. Worse. It gets pixilated. No worries, the operator tells me it will clear itself up in a moment. 20 seconds later and nothing is happening. He pans out, and he tries to clarify the picture. Yuck, it gets worse. He zooms. Horrible picture. He tries to undo what he did, but there’s no “undo.” He backs out and goes to beginning of the tape. Geez! Now he’s clicking & clicking & clicking… we eventually get back to the scene of the person’s car. He tries it again. He just keeps making it worse. I asked him if I can try. I’m manipulating it much more fluently than him. The boss asks me if I know anything about computers, because it looks like I learned this fast. 1.) Uuh, yeah – I know a liiiittle something about computers. And 2.) A CHILD COULD HAVE PICKED UP ON HOW TO USE THIS! Can you tell I’m annoyed at this juncture? I easily get to that spot of the video, and I try to clarify the image. I have better luck, but it’s still not good enough. I can only tell that it’s a male, black, in a black Mercedes w/Maryland tags and 6 characters on it. After a while, I gave up. Sucks! The person there tells me he’ll be more than happy to give the video to me &/or a detective. They may have better equipment. Wonderful idea! My hopes are up again. I go home. As I pull up to my house, I notice a black Mercedes across the street. It looks a little different from the one on the video, but the tag looks very similar to the blurry, pixilated tag I saw. And it’s Maryland. (Keep in mind, we’re in MD. I got a little excited.) I creep over to the car and check the front end. Some chrome there. Yeah, that could have caused the white on my car! I look around the corner where it would have rubbed my car, and… nothing. Perfect. Nothing to see here, folks. Everyone go home.
Well, I call 911, and this time two officers come out. I explain the story (yes, again) with the extra details. They tell me first of all, I should have called from the scene a couple days ago and that the operator was wrong on the phone by telling me to go home. Next, they tell me they can not write a hit & run report, because they need a tag number. A “black Mercedes” is not good enough, because there are so many (said in a smart-ass tone). I restated what the officer told me the day before. They asked me who it was assuming I wouldn’t remember (I think), but when I pulled out her card (and saw the surprised expressions on their faces when I did), they told me she’s wrong and has bad information and will tell her the next time they see her. I told them the video should show the license plate number and that a detective could help out with their sophisticated technology. They told me they may review it if it involves a homicide or something a lot more serious than this. I thank them; they leave. I’m left standing on the driveway with a scraped up car and a business card from an officer that gave me bad information.
You’re probably thinking: “Dude, just call your insurance company, and have them take care of it.” Yes, I can do that. But it’s the simple fact that I’m THIS close. Plus, in the almost two decades that I’ve been driving, I’ve never reported a single case to my insurance company. In fact, I have a great discount for being accident-free. I don’t think I will lose that discount from this, but I am doing this on principle. I’ve sat on this for a week. I’ll try calling a detective tomorrow and see what they say. I’m sure he’ll laugh in my face, but I need to try it. If all else fails, maybe I’ll just live with the scrape in the back. But I will keep my eye open for this vehicle that matches the description until my car dies.
Whoa, that was dramatic.
So now I wonder, why aren’t security cameras better? I was watching the news today as I was getting my haircut, and two would-be burglars broke into a jewelry store but found no jewelry. It was funny watching these two guys roaming the store to find nothing on two security cameras at two different angles. But it is grainy, like something out of a terrorist kidnap video. I take it back, those are clearer! They can’t identify these two fools, because, you guessed it, the video is low quality. Even the Pentagon video of the airplane crashing into it is bad quality. And this is the Pentagon, people! The funny thing is that if I left the parking garage without paying the $4, I have a feeling the security camera would bring my license plate into readable view.
Psst – you can wake up now.
What would you pay?
I'm
trying to off some vases I picked up in China. Don't want the new house to look like a Chinese restaurant by having these things everywhere. Take a look at these links:
http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/fur/168822316.htmlhttp://washingtondc.craigslist.org/fur/168814954.html
Think I'm asking too high? Low? I literally carried these babies around the globe! Veeeery carefully. Anyone interested?
How much fo a rib?
¿Can you hear me now?
Nothing to see here. Testing pix from my phone...
Damien-Beelzebub-Satan-pentagram-George W-exorcism-clowns
Right now it's 6:06:06 on 6/6/06. EST
Just thought I'd point that out for you.
Say hello to my little friend - Treo
Test from phone
¿Can you hear me now?
By special request...
...a picture.
Here is a picture I took of myself using the timer function on my camera. I set the camera down on a smelly garbage can and waited 3 seconds before I "struck a pose." I am at the Bund in Shanghai, China. Actually, it's called Waitan. If you tell a Chinese cab driver " take me to the Bund," you may never get there, since they won't know what you're talking about. Anyway, think of the Bund as the strip, a boardwalk, riverfront... you get the picture (pun intended). Actually, it is the riverfront, since that is the Huangpu River behind me. Cool place to hang out. If you saw Mission Impossible 3, you may recognize the buildings on the left side of the picture. The funky one is called Oriental Pearl Tower. The building to the right with the slanted roof is the one Tom Cruise jumped on and slid down while shooting at the guards. The building to the right of that with the lit, flat roof is the building he jumped off of. I was here and then saw MI3 a couple days later. On DVD. At home. Gotta love those Chinese movie pirates! =]
Enjoy
North vs. South
My first day, and 2 posts? I didn't think I'd post so soon after creating this
blog. Anyway, the reason being is that since I woke up, I can't escape the
news about the people in Canada that were discovered with three tons of the same type of material used to construct the explosives that
blew up the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City back in 1995 (wow, been
that long already?) by that wiry loser,
Timoth McVeigh and pedophile
Terry Nichols. (I always thought McVeigh looked like
Michael Rapaport, especially when he played Remy in
Higher Learning, and he would be the perfect person to play the role in a movie about the Oklahoma bombing.) This news makes me think of several
articles I've read regarding Canada as a safe haven for terrorists. Something else comes to mind is that idiot,
Ahmed Ressam, who was found with a healthy dose of bomb-making material in his car while trying to cross the border into the U.S. from, you guessed it, Canada. Another thing that's been in the news lately is how a fence will be erected on the Mexican-American border. Where the hell's the fence around the Canadian-American border??? Didn't people agree to build the
fence to help strain out terrorists as one of the reasons for it to go up? I'm not saying I disagree with the fence (I'm not saying I agree, either), but if one will go up down south, then one should be built up north, too.
Remember where these terrorists came from.
By the way,
X-Men 3: The Last Stand is a good flick. And I'm not even into the X-Men movies.
Unaverage Joe's 1st post on his 1st blog
I debated over the past couple years whether or not to jump on the bandwagon and create a blog. Why not just create a normal website? MySpace page? Why do anything at all? Seems like a lot of bloggers just upload smart-ass remarks: "Yeah, my waitress gave me my water and forgot the lemon. What, did she eat it on the way to my table or something? Her face had a real sourpuss expression on it."
I think what pushed me into this is the quickness and ease of creating a blog rather than a whole website and that I'd like to share some experiences, like my recent trip to Asia. Plus, the Mobile feature of letting me add from my (beloved) cell phone (Treo 650). Anywho, I will see how this pans out. I'm in Washington, D.C. now. What if I start revolutions, try to kick Bush out of office? Or... what if my next post is in 3 months with a grainy picture I took of a fatal car accident from my cell phone camera? Anyway, welcome to my blog. I am not the Average Joe but the UN-Average Joe. Stay tuned for my psychobabble. If I ever post again.
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