I realize this is old hat, but we’re finally getting around to watching the King Kong documentary. And yes, these guys are a little weird for loving King Kong so much, but none of us are completely free of ridiculous obsessions, are we?
Anyway, I just want to say it, because I cannot help not saying it: BILLY MITCHELL IS AN ASS. A big fat flaming ass. And he has bad hair. What a sad, pathetic little man. GRAR!
Not as scary as Fatal Frame II, but um, still darn startling. I would totally die in a zombie attack. I mean, seriously. There’s no way. In real life, I could not be bandaged by someone and get back to full functionality. In real life, I can’t set the game to Normal, or Easy. In real life, I’ve never fired a gun, and even if I could, I would probably be a worse shot than I am in the game.
Also, in real life, if there were zombies running around and leaping from buildings and swarming me, I would probably be terrified and therefore useless. I’d like to fantasize that I’d be all gung-ho and suddenly come alive, but no. No. I would just die.
Let me just say now, while the impending zombie menace has not yet reached our shores: it would suck to die in a zombie attack. I would opt out, thanks.
/shudder
Look… me and the McDonald’s people got this little misunderstanding. See, they’re McDonald’s… I’m McDowell’s. They got the Golden Arches, mine is the Golden Arcs. They got the Big Mac, I got the Big Mick. We both got two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles and onions, but their buns have sesame seeds. My buns have no seeds.
- Cleo McDowell from Coming To America
Xbox Experience launched today, and they have these super cute little characters that represent you that you can customize and stuff, which absolutely have no resemblance to the Miis at all. None. It was a totally independent thought process that brought about these characters, a totally different marketing strategy.
They are called Xiis.
Well, not really, but they might as well be. It’s pretty silly. ;) Although, I did have fun making mine, and she wears a pith helmet-type hat, whoo! There isn’t really anything in life that can’t be improved by adding a pith helmet…
One of modern life’s stupid inconveniences: anti-spam word recognition. I know there’s a formal name for them, but you know what I’m talking about. You know, those things where you type in what the jumbled words are in order to prove you’re human and not a spambot? Except, apparently, I am not human about 60% of the time. 40% is passing though, right?
Right?
I do. As soon as my Dell pre-installed McAfee ran out, I switched. My computer is running like, 1000% faster now. Go go non-invasive antivirus, whoo!
It’s still fire season in Southern California, even in November:
They closed the freeway down for awhile, and the fires are still burning, last we checked. We definitely need some rain out these parts. Any time now!
Back on track!
Here’s a story about companies that are “stealthily shrinking” their packaging and charging the same price on products in order to maintain their profits. It all seems rather shady, but one, I suppose, cannot expect them to announce on their boxes that they are doing this. What would that look like? “New and improved (for us): less for your money, whee!”
Much like the proposed sales tax rate, I realize the money’s gotta come from somewhere. If they don’t make enough on their products, they lay off workers. That’s bad. But, of course I have no idea if they are protecting a modest margin and solvency, or if they are paying millions of dollars to CEOs and need to keep those golden parachutes polished. I just don’t know.
I would, however, probably be much more irritated if it were, say Exxon Mobil pulling this stuff. Who knows, maybe they own some of these companies…
On a side note, my older brother remarked that CEOs should be allowed to make lots of money because they are being paid to do a job, and, after all, this country is not socialist. It would be a bad precedent to cap salaries in a (supposed) capitalist society. Curt, who also believes in capitalism, thinks CEO salaries are most certainly too inflated, and refuses to believe that companies could not recruit better people to do as good a job, and for less money. It’s not as if some of these CEOs have been doing great jobs, anyway.
These are both good points; we should not be able to tell people how much they can pay their executives, but at the same time, there does seem to be a lack of common sense in paying people such huge sums of money when their pay does not necessarily depend on whether the company remains solvent. More fool, them, I suppose. Until taxpayers have to foot the bill. Then it becomes rightfully vicious.
For my part, I remember reading a story about the late Kenneth Lay who, shortly after being convicted in the Enron scandal, threw a multi-million dollar birthday party for his wife. When questioned about the outrageous dichotomy, he responded by saying that it was difficult to switch lifestyles overnight.
What a strange state of affairs. Of course, I am most probably not qualified to give an in depth economic analysis of what we should do with this fine mess you’ve gotten us in, Stanley. After all, I only live here.
Curt is off for San Diego again tomorrow. I miss him when he is gone, but on the bright side, he will get to go to the Zoo and the Wild Animal Park whenever he wants, and I plan on getting a lot of reading and cooking and things done. Plus, I may get jury duty, and WotLK comes out on Thursday!
I realized today that I complain a lot. I bet I don’t go a single day without making some small complaint or other, even it is in good humor. They stem from things like being bored at work, too tired to exercise, too tired to cook, irritated with the unfairness in the world. Have I always been like this? I wonder. It seems to get more concentrated the older I get, and I have fears that I may someday turn around and find that I’ve turned into some bitter, frayed-nerved old woman who drives everyone crazy with her constant litany of complaints. I don’t want that. Maybe if I stopped worrying about all the bad things, I’ll see the good things more clearly. Maybe if I see the good things more clearly, I won’t get so angry when things go wrong. This is a good thought. I shall keep it!
I slipped a bit this last week. Basically, I believe I was unable to fight off the cravings that come with my period – but I’m feeling more motivated now and I did exercise today; just have to watch what I’m eating. Besides, look! The chart is smiling at you! ;)
Yesterday, after the geographical routing I took from a pesky Flash game on the internet, I picked up our two-year old Almanac and started to read with the intention of, obviously, learning everything in the world. I read about Michael Dukakis and the tank thing, which I’d read about before, but had not previously mustered up enough gumption to go looking for the image. I did it this afternoon.
And now I’m sitting at my desk in a state of mild depression, a state most inappropriate to the small work I must do, crossing Ts and dotting Is. This moment is one of many moments when I step out of my comfortable little life of modest decadence and petty struggling, and I see the rest of the world and all the startling reality of lives other than mine. Every time this happens, I am sad. Terribly, gut-wrenchingly sad. Here is the culprit. Or perhaps, you could say the messenger. We are the culprits, really.
Then, I read this, which, though dwarfish in scope compared to the LIFE photos, carries itself with the same kingly deportment. Let this be a lesson to me, then, when my angry cynicism threatens to better me. Bravo, Mr. Len Cassamas, whoever you are.