Creepy clowns

It's Halloween time.  A time for ghosts, ghouls and the worst of all... clowns.  I never had nightmares of clowns, but i never wanted to be near one either.  I remember as a kid being at some event where clowns were hired to entertain and they creeped the hell out of me.  I don't know if it was the goofball antics, the over the top showmanship or that they smelled really bad.  All I know was that I wanted nothing to do with them.

 I don't care if they look like this :

 this:

or this:

They're damn creepy no matter who is under the goofy hair.  Any adult that is in their right mind doesn't want to glop colorful makeup on, dress in big gimicky clothing and go around acting like an idiot.

I know.  Too easy. 

A couple of years ago we were at a charity walk/5k run.  My father-in-law was approached by a female clown and she tried to engage him in some so-called merriment.  He wanted nothing to do with it and actually told her that "Clowns are creepy and scare people."  She actually started to cry.  Made me laugh, but he felt bad and tried to make it up to her by going along with her schtick.  Her heart wasn't in it and we soon were off to let her reexamine her lifestyle choice alone.  

I don't know if she ever went back to clowning, but if she did I wonder if she took on a more jaded view.  Perhaps instead of trying to bring joy she now tries to get even and strike fear in the hearts of men and small children.  If so, this is her weekend to shine.  Don't believe me? Today I overheard two kids arguing over going to a haunted house.  The younger was protesting.

"No! No! No! No! I don't wanna go!"

"Why not," asked the older kid?

"Because there's supposed to be a clown there! If there's a clown there I'm not going!"

Good for you little tyke! It's future leaders like you that avoid people like these at all costs.

The dog ate my homework

This is my lovable pooch, Largo.

Cute eh?  She is a rescued dog who has pretty much taken over our home.  She's the queen and we're just here to serve her.  I never had a dog as a kid.  The folks wouldn't allow it.  Not that they didn't think that I'd take care of her.  They were opposed to the hair that would no doubt take over their impeccably clean home.  So I never had any one to blame but myself for "lost" or "missing" homework.  I also never had a pal to pass undesirable food to under the table as a kid.  I do now, except as an adult I never make brussel sprouts, dumplings or liver for myself.  (Three things that would make me sit at the table for hours until the battle of wills between me and my mom would result in me stuffing my mouth, excusing myself and spitting them into the toilet.)  So I feel that we're wasting her fullest potential. Sad.

In a recent post I was explaining my obsession with guitars and how I had gotten a DVD instruction series.  The thing I failed to mention was that my best friend doesn't want me to practice.  Any time I go pick up a guitar, she's there.  It's not so much that I don't want an audience as I practice, it's that she sits there and pants till a puddle of drool is at her feet.  Given the opportunity, she'll keep inching closer until she has her head in my lap, eyes looking up and sad.  OK.  Let's go outside and play right? No, she'll just lay down and chill.  Uugh. Go back in, pick up the guitar and it's right back to square one.

Recently I also purchased the Rosetta Stone German instruction DVD and have been trying to learn the native language of my ancestors.  Largo seems to have other ideas about that as well.  I can be on the computer doing anything, and I do mean anything and she'll lay around comatose. As soon as it's time to do my "homework" with the DVD, she nuzzles up to me, leans on me or pants and drools all over the floor again holding one paw up in the air.

Yes it is cute, albeit annoying when you're trying to make yourself a better, more well rounded person.  But it doesn't stop there.  Watch T.V.? Sure.  No problem.  Pick up the controller to the Wii? She's having none of it.  Of course, the wife likes it because then she can finally beat me at Mario Cart.  I think she got so sick of losing at Wii games that she some how trained Largo to disrupt me. After coming to that conclusion, I decided to ignore her which lead to these shenanigans:

Yeah, hop up on the couch and lay on me.  That's always encouraged with a 95 pound dog.

I never got the chance to use the dog ate my homework excuse as a kid which makes me feel left out of that little slice of Americana.  But if you're wondering, that excuse still doesn't work as an adult, when my wife asks how my various lessons are going.

And I thought I was bored

From Good Morning America we finally get the riveting run down on "Why do dogs shake when they are wet."  Yes this was the question so-called researcher David Hu was wondering.  So with a team of experts they went out to discover why animals, not just dogs, shake when wet.

What they found out was stunning, earth shattering and paradigm shifting... if you're a moron. Smaller animals had to shake more to equal the amount of force created by larger animals to equal the amount of drying.  But the big answer is yet to come! What could the answer be... hum?

Really people? Someone studied this?  Actually what doesn't bother me so much is that someone actually took the time to research this.  Lord knows I waste time  every day doing useless things (like what I'm doing now for example).  What does get my goat though is that he got on T.V. because of it.  It's as bad as the people who wasted research dollars on finding out the reason why hot pizza burns the roof of your mouth.  That's simple; because you're either too hungry or too much of a slob to wait for it to cool.  Give me the grant money thank you very much.

So back to this current raging debate. The brainiacs shot slow motion sequences of wet animals in all their wet action best.  Back and forth you get to watch hairy, dripping wet animals twist in all their natural glory.  Sounds like fun doesn't it?  Yeah, you're right.  It really doesn't.  But nevertheless there it was in slo-mo video.

If you haven't come to the obvious answer to, "Why do dogs shake when they are wet?" And still haven't taken the time to go see the fascinating and stunning results on the GMA website, let me shed some light on it.  The grand answer is (drum roll please)... because they want to dry off.

I know... shocking isn't it?  Bet you didn't see that one coming, did ya? C'mon, be honest.  Oh and Mr. Hu, next time you have a curiosity about something like this, just shoot me an email.  I can save you a lot of time.

The Bears wasted three hours of my life again

So another Sunday has come and gone and what do I have to show for it?  Nothing. Nada, Zippo. Zilch. Again I wasted three plus hours of my life watching and rooting for the win that wasn't.  Three hours to watch them pass, mostly ineffectively against the worst passing defense in the league.  Three hours with only 15 runs. Three hours with 4 pics, one touchdown called back, one never given (thanks Lovie and your moron in the replay booth for not throwing the red flag) that resulted in a turnover... on the one yard line.  Three hours of them still not scoring in the 3rd quarter for the entire year.  Three hours of them playing so poorly and still had a chance to win.  Three hours of my dog being unsure if I was mad at her or not.  Three stinking hours that I'll never get back and what's worse is that I can not even bill the McCaskey's for my time.

 It reminds me of another promise of three hours of fun that turned out poorly for everyone involved.  It was called Gilligan's Island.  They were only meant to go out for a three hour tour and wound up endlessly stranded on "an uncharted desert isle."  The Bears are only going to Toronto in 2 weeks to play the winless Bills, so hopefully they'll get stuck at the boarder after handing the Bills their first win. Maybe we can bribe their boarder guards to detaining the offense and front office yokels.  Maybe send them off to Saskatchewan for the brutal winter... hum, just thinking. 

Here's a thought though.  With the NFL flex schedule at the end of the season, maybe we can petition for a late night game against the Packers to be played in Haiti.  Even if it's not OK'ed by the NFL we could always put the team on two planes. Defense/ Special teams can go to Green Bay, Offense to Port Au Prince.  If they get there, they can do penance by helping rebuild.  If they don't and wind up somewhere else... no loss.

Plus they have everyone they need to fill out the cast for a new Gilligan's Island. They'll just change it to "Jerry's Island," starring Lovie Smith as "The Skipper."  Jay Cutler as "Gilligan." Mike Martz as "the Professor."   Jerry Angelo and Ted Phillips as "Mr. and Mrs. Howell," (you pick who is Mr. and who is the Mrs.) Mike McCaskey as "Mary Ann" and Chris Williams as "Ginger.

I'm losing it

On my 30th birthday I decided to finally buy a guitar.  I had always wanted to learn to play, but for whatever reason I put it off.  That day I found myself driving out to the local music store and meeting the typical mom and pop music store "dude."   He was busy trying to upsell a kid on lessons so I went about looking for the cheapest guitar possible.  Since I knew that I was going to be horrible I figured I might as well save a couple of bucks.  Eventually the "pop" of mom and pop fame came out from the back and asked me:

"Can I help you son?"  

"Oh... yeah, please."

"What can I help you with?"

"I want to finally get a guitar... and don't want to spend a lot."

You could see the sadness flush over him and led me to the bargain area.  Even though I didn't want to spend a lot, I still walked out with an acoustic guitar, case, tuner, picks and a beginner how-to book.   So much for not spending a lot.  Yes, "pop" was smiling when I left.  I took my gigantic guitar home and played (horribly as predicted) till my fingers bled... which didn't take all that long.  

My obsession lead me to getting my first electric guitar, a Kramer Imperial with Floyd Rose and a reverse headstock.  My first Ebay accomplishment.  Yeah, I took the easy way out.  My fingers thanked me as it was way easier to play for extended periods of time and not ripping up the tips of my fingers. 

This of course lead me to buy another, a Kramer Baretta.  Then an endless succession of no name pieces of crap that all came and went on Ebay.  I put the search for the perfect guitar obsession away for awhile and decided that it was a useless pursuit. In the ten years since I got my first I had never taken a real lesson, and REALLY should have.  I'm still quite awful.  

My next idea was to get lessons.  However, the idea of going to a music store and get lessons makes me nauseous.  Every time I'm in one there is invariably a 7 year old who can shred a guitar like Jimi Hendrix, while I'm still looking to see if I have my fingering correct.  I'd like to think that I'm above the entire ego thing, but these kids see you in there and naturally assume that you can play like them.  I don't know who would be more let down when they heard me actually play.  I just can't do that to the kids... or so I'll keep telling myself.  Instead I found a DVD course that actually is pretty good.  The only trouble is is that there is no accountability to a DVD.  It'll just sit there in the case and never judge me, but it'll also never pull me figuratively by the ear and make me practice. 

This was going fine. I'm still terrible, but slowly getting better.  Unfortunately, this small advancement in playing ability has fostered a new obsession.  I'm going to try the Eddive Van Halen way and slap different parts together and see what happens as I make my own guitar.  I'm now cruising online sites for cheep parts, refusing to pay more than $20 for any one part.  Most have come in the $1 to $5 area.  I'm betting that the best parts come cheap.  I still have to get a neck and some other various parts, but I'm in no hurry.  This is gonna sound awesome.  

I apologize now to my wife, dog, neighbors and music in general.

Cubs hire new skipper

On Tuesday (10/19/10) the Chicago Cubs named Mike Quade as their 51st manager.

Personally, I couldn't care less, but the hoopla that surrounded the choice was nothing short of unbelievable.  The bulletin boards were ablaze because they didn't choose the hall of famer Ryne Sandberg.  "How could they do this?" "He's  done all that they asked and more!"  That one was my particular favorite.  Seriously I'd like to know what the "and more" was that he did.  Was he driving the team bus? Maybe he was making sandwiches and slicing oranges for after the games like a soccer mom.  Perhaps he was just sewing the little holes his Jr. Cubbies had made in their uniforms.  Whatever it was, it must have been spectacular to have warranted such an outcry.  You'd think that they hired:

You guessed it, Lex Luther.  Is the hate just because of the bald thing or something more sinister?  I bet the fans would have been happier if he looked more like this:

Well no matter the reason for the fans scorn, there is nothing that can be done about it for now.  He has a 2 year contract and the owners, who are cutting almost  $150 million from the payroll, won't be keen on having 2 managers under contract.  Even if the Quade led Cubs only win 5 games.  So there is nothing to do but enjoy the ride.

I had a thought about how we can do just that.  Since the 1940's the Cubs have flown a flag emblazoned with a "W" for days the Cubs won

and conversely, an "L" for losses.

 These are nice and have been working fine for quite some time.  However, maybe it's time to update the idea.  It's just a thought mind you.

Mike has been hairless since he was 3 due to a condition called alopecia.  So it's a little difficult to tell when he's happy or when he's sad.  Radio legend Steve Dahl (dahl.com) offered the idea on his podcast that maybe he should draw in eyebrows to indicate his mood.  Great idea!  But let's take it one step further.  Let's replace the old "W" flag with a new flag:

and the tattered, worn out "L" flag with:

And when they get slaughtered by the Sluggo team:

Getting started

OK, the world of blogging... to use an old persons phrase, I was doing that before there ever was such a thing!  Sure mine was in useless rambling emails sent to some friends, without their consent of course.  Some even read a couple, or so they said.  But most were nice enough to lie to me and tell me that it was funny.

Having run its course I stopped doing that because, well frankly, there wasn't much call for it.  Plus the requests to stop harassing them on a daily basis eventually paid off.  Now with the overabundance of mindless drivel, over zealous political ranting and pop culture observations on the net, the last thing the world needs is another pointless blog... or so it would seem.  But yet, here is another.  And besides, I'm bored.

So I found this website and created my own free blog because let's be honest.  Who would pay to read this?  (Editors note: for those who feel compelled so can send me money at any time they so wish.  Any amount will be gladly accepted. So in the words of someone much more intelligent than I, "Give. Give till it hurts.")

The set up for this is actually quite painless and fast, until you come to the part where you need a name for your @ address.  I quickly discovered that all the clever names were already taken.  Big shock, I know.  So I started to put in any stupid thing I could think of and most came back as already taken.  Makes me wonder though if they are truly being used as the name would suggest.

For example, the name Imbored was taken.  As was imstillbored, useless, mindless, mindlessdrivel, yawn, mindlessrambling and mindlessramblings, uttersilliness, whyareyoulookingatme, yrulookingatme and yurlookingatthis.  As well as stupid, thisisstupid, urstupid, youarestupid, and stupiduselesscrap.

It makes me wonder what they could possibly be filling up their blogs with to validate their titles... but not curious enough to go check them out.  As I encourage you to also ignore them and only read mine.  Yes, I am that childish.