And Now, The End Is Near...

So National Blog Post Month, or NAMBLA, is over. I want to thank all of you who helped me complete this Sisyphean task. Your comments, suggestions, and ideas made it all so easy. I really can't believe November is over. This month was so full of stuff that it rocketed by. I look at the calendar and see things like A Midsummer Night's Dream and realize that rather than monolithic horizon lurkers, they are things done and gone and I wonder how I missed them. I oft times marvel at that bizarre dichotomy of human perception. I first noticed it in basic training, or after basic I should say. I looked back and it seemed like the 30 days went by so fast, and yet I remembered every agonizing minute as if it lasted an hour. How can things feel so interminable, and yet so fleeting? Scientists have seen the areas of the brain where decisions are made become active only after the decision has occurred, so does that mean that we react instinctively, and then our brains do a bit of retcon to make it seem that we actively decided something? Or is it simply that the scientists have yet to be able to fathom the data they are receiving? And what about people who, after having 'suppressed memories' excavated firmly believe they have been abducted by aliens? If our memories can be manipulated can we ever trust our senses? We think that we interpret the world in real time, but actually the totality of our experiential references are memories, and therefore subject to manipulation by either internal or external forces. This thought was made very clear to me after my post about my accident with the table saw. One who was there commented that I got part of the story wrong. It was part that had always puzzled me; I remembered being gently teased for being overly polite while I was bleeding and struggling against going into shock, but I didn't recall saying anything that would have incurred that reaction. After reading my account herein, Deb pointed out that, rather than ask if someone would take me to the hospital, I actually said that if someone could tell me how to get there I could drive myself. Two very different recollections, and hers made more sense. As soon as she told me that, my memory of the conversation realigned itself to reflect this more accurate version, and it all fell into place. But if I had never wrote that post, my version of the events would have continued to be flawed, though I would never have known it. Accurate, to me, but not reflecting reality. Things like this give me pause, and give me great doubts about the legal system. Since we can never be 100% sure of our own recollections, how can we base the life or death of others on those inherently flawed perceptions?
Hmm, this certainly went in a direction I never planned. I'd like to say that I consciously decided to connect NoBloPop to the death penalty, and given enough time I could convince myself that that is exactly what happened, but in reality I just started typing, and this is what fell out.

At least that's what I think happened.

Peace, Friends.
Marius

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

As we enter the penultimate day of NoBloBopSheBopSheBop, I was fretting. The tank was empty, the brain a shrivelled cranio-raisin, the mind a blank. Oh, Lords of Weirdness, quoth I in desperation, send unto me a miracle of the absurd. And there was a loud Hosanna, and a fusillade of trumpets did sound, and magically my browser of its own accord bestowed upon me this boon:


It is called the TwoDaLoo, and it is a real, $1400 toilet for two. It supposedly can help a rocky marriage recover by promoting increased closeness, and I know I can't count the number of times I thought to myself, "I really love my wife, but wouldn't it be nice if we could crap together, too?"

But wait dear Marius, some of you might utter. Did not the jesters of Saturday Night Live make of this concept a sketch-like thing? Ah, yes my child. They did indeed

Isn't it wonderful that just when you have given up on figuring out why things went the way they did, the Universe offers up the answers? Now I see what went wrong with all those women in the past. If only we could have not wasted those minutes spent in agonizing lavatorial seclusion, I might have been celebrating my 30th wedding anniversary along with our 15 children today. Oh cruel Providence! Why did you take so long to create this marvelous device?!
And the comedy doesn't stop with just the photo. The write up for this ridiculous thing is equally ludicrous. Behold:
The TwoDaLoo is billed as the world's first toilet two people can use ... at the exact same time. It brings couples closer together and conserves our water supply all with one flush. The TwoDaLoo features two side-by-side toilet seats with a modest privacy wall in between. An upgraded version includes a seven inch LCD television and iPod docking station
So the double shitter promises to bring couples 'closer together' yet offers an optional TV and Ipod dock just in case you get bored with each other? Priceless.

And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wake my wife up so we can take a leak.

}:-)

Marius

Not The Best Way to Lose Weight

I am terrible with dates. I'd barely remember my own birthday if folks didn't bring it up first. But there is one date that is forever burned into my brain. Thursday, May 5, 1994. That was the day that I tried, unsuccessfully, to hold hands with a running table saw. Rosebuckle and C.L., please feel free to correct me if I get any of this tale wrong. I was working for a now-defunct theatre in Jupiter, Florida. It was the first day of the build for The Music Man, and I had the unfortunate task of ripping 1x3s. To do this required the use of the table saw. This is a largeish saw that is used to make long, wide boards into long narrow boards. It is a ferocious and unforgiving device, but quite necessary, and safe when used properly. It is also very loud, so I tend to wear ear plugs when using it. On this day I had been ripping for at least an hour when my one of my coworkers brought me a whole new stack to cut. Here is where I made my first mistake. Rather than turn the saw off, walk away, and get my bearings back, I just started in on the new stack. Unfortunately I didn't realize that I was in the grip of a form of white-line fever. The job was so repetitive, and the ear plugs so isolating, that I began paying more attention to my inner voice than to the spinning blade in front of my. This did not last long, however. As I finished a cut, and was absent-mindedly reaching for the next board I heard a loud 'thwump!', and a short, sharp shock ran up my arm to my elbow. 'Dammit!' I thought. 'I've cut myself.' Then it dawned on me just what tool I was working with, and I realized that I had done quite more than 'just cut myself'. I unclenched my right fist from around my left thumb and witnessed the havoc wrought there. It looked like the end of my thumb had been exploded from within. Mental shock mixed with disbelief flooded my mind and I began to slowly walk away from the saw. Part of my mind worried about leaving the saw running, since that is a big safety no-no, but the rest of my mind shouted that I had a bigger worry. By this time Deb, who was in command of the shop, had noticed that something was wrong and came over to me. I told her that I had just cut my thumb off, and then the dizziness inspired me to sink to my knees, since that seemed a better choice than falling down. She asked if I wanted and ambulance, and later teased me for my politeness in the face of dismemberment because I responded that no, I didn't think I needed an ambulance, but if someone wouldn't mind driving me to a hospital I'd be grateful. I think Chris asked if he should look for the thumb, but there really wouldn't have been anything to look for, or so I thought(more on that later) so I told him no. I remember being remarkably calm through the whole affair, although the ride from the shop to the hospital is a blurred jumble of nausea and self-recrimination. There was an intern working in the shop then, whose name I cannot recall, who was a lovely, sweet and very hard working young woman. In my somewhat distracted state I gave her the unpleasant job of calling my mom, with whom I was living at the time, to tell her that I was going to the hospital. When we arrived at the hospital and the two ladies helped me out of the car, we realized I was still wearing my tool belt. The intern immediately knelt in front of my and removed it. Just to show you that the male pig-brain is indefatigable, I actually thought to myself 'of all the times for this fantasy to come true...' The following week was spent in the hospital with my hand hanging from an IV stand. I got very lucky that the on-call doctor that day was also a very skilled hand surgeon who spent two hours rebuilding the end of my thumb whereas most doctors would have just cut it off at the knuckle and been done with it. As it is I lost 3/4", but the nail grew back and most people don't notice it unless I point it out. It was three weeks before I was strong enough to go back to the shop to visit, and at that time they presented me with a gift. Chris had taken the boards that had been on the saw at the time of the accident, and had been sprayed with blood, and stapled them together to preserve the pattern. He gave them to me telling me that they saved my thumb for me. Most people thought that was pretty gross, but I thought it was hilarious, and saved those board for more than a decade. My brother also came down to visit, bringing with him a thimble with a hook sticking out of it for me to wear.
All in all I was out of work for three months, and cost Workman's Comp untold thousands of dollars. You never know how much you use your thumbs until you can't any more. Thing like tying your shoes, or buttoning a shirt, or driving a stick shift all become infinitely more difficult with only one hand, and let me tell you that the elastic waistbands of underwear are not your friend when you only have one hand. So appreciate the parts you've got, gentle readers, for unlike the lizard's tail, our bits don't grow back.

Marius

Retagged

Dammit! Just as the pain in my ear from Stinkypaw's tag was starting to subside, The Purple Pigeon tags me again! Well, at least the tranq dart lets me take a nice nap. Ok, Pidgey, here are seven more weirdnesses about yours truly.

1. Despite the fact that I put on plays for a living, I hate being in an audience.

2. I would love to learn to speak Russian.

3. For a brief time I seriously considered getting my tongue pierced.

4. I have only seen 2 episodes of Friends in their entirety.

5. I think the SR-71 Blackbird is the coolest aircraft ever invented.

6. I firmly believe that there are, at most, 3 different kinds of shampoo in the world. There are, however, thousands of labeling options.

7. The only time I miss the end of my left thumb is when I have to wear a dress shirt and I have to button the sleeves.

Ok, gotta get back to work. Hugs to you, Pigeon. It'll get better eventually.

Marius

Zzzzzz..mrph!

If I Go Crazy Then...

Yesternight, though I know not wherefore, a thought-memory came unbidden to my mind. Many years ago, and no doubt after some intense study of Colombian horticulture, the great wizard Rico Sanchez and I pondered the creation of a compilation album to compete with the mighty and awful K-Tel corporation. This was long before such wond'rous things as CDs and Itunes, so it was more a thought experiment than anything else. We thought to create a library of all songs that mention The Last Son of Krypton. Back then it would have been very labor, not to mention cost intensive, but today it seems quite possible. Here's where you come in. I need your brains, my musically gifted friends. Think o'nt and if you would send me herein any song you can remember that speaks of the Man of Steel. If you know the band name that's great, but not necessary. Even if you only remember a snippet of the lyrics that's helpful too. Any and all assistance in this regard will be greatly appreciated. And, once the project is complete, I will send you a copy of the disc.

Con mucho gusto,
Marius

Too Cool

What do you get when you combine an old laptop with an electric guitar? Psychedelic sweetness, that's what.

Umm, Hello, Geiko?

How do you call your insurance company and file a claim for 'falling cow'? Unfortunately a Manson, Washington man had to do just that. A 600 pound cow fell off of a cliff on November 6th and crushed his minivan. The man was quoted as repeatedly saying "I don't believe this." This reminds me of the time a motorist neglected to notice that the road he was on dead-ended in a fence, then our shed, then the back of our house. Fortunately he ran into the laundry room, so no one was hurt. Unfortunately he ran away and was never caught as far as I know. The steering column of the car was bent, presumable by his chest, so I can't imagine he got very far. I thought it was pretty funny at the time, but my folks, understandably, didn't. So what's the weirdest automotive accident/encounter you've experienced?

Marius

Over the River and Through the Everglades

Hello, Blends, and thanks for your patience over the holiday with my perfunctory postage. It was a bit of a whirlwind, but it was also totally worth the drive. And, as is usual in my solipsistic universe, the Gods-O-Irony(tm) were fully awake and active on Wednesday. The plan was that Mrs. Marius and I would go to work, and leave as soon as humanly possible to begin the drive south. Things at the school were quite quiet, and as I had the COTA in tow (she had no school on Wed.) I was able to depart my place of employment around noon. I prepared my goodly vessel for its voyage, giving her all the needed fluids and vapors to make the trip a success, and arrived at our domicile around 1:30. I quickly packed my stuff, loaded the car, and settled in to await my lovely bride.
At this point it is necessary to point out that one of the primary reasons that we have been in some financial distress of late is that her waitressing job was providing her with very few hours. Normally if she were scheduled to work 10-5, she'd be lucky to stay til 1:30 before being sent home. Now, for those of you who have tangled with the aforementioned capricious deities, you might see what's coming. We figured that she would be done with work by 3 at the absolute latest, and planned for an optimal launch window of 3:30, getting us to West Palm Beach by dinner time. Alas, since we wanted her to be cut early, she was there until 4:15. That doesn't seem like much of a problem, except that would put our departure, after she came home and got cleaned up, right in the midst of the evening rush. So rather than leave town at 2 miles per hour, we decided to wait til 6. The drive down was uneventful, although I am totally sick of SUV driving idiots who don't know how to drive the damned things! They lumber into traffic and accelerate at the same pace that snails screw, and just generally make a nuisance of themselves. But I digress.
We arrived at the In-Law's without incident, and I proceeded to relax. We chatted, I read, and then crashed. Thanksgiving morning I slept in and loved it. I always sleep really well at my In-Law's, and I chalk it up to a combination of a really comfortable bed in the guest room, and the fact that I can relinquish command while I'm there. I love my family, but they aren't the best at turning things off, or putting things away, or cleaning things up, so if I don't keep the reminders going the place gets out of hand rather quickly. My MIL is very good at taking care of things at her house, so I get to relax. So, anyway, we spent a chill morning doing lots of nothing while my wife and her mother plotted their strategy for Black Friday. Black Friday, for those of you lucky enough to not live in the US, is the busiest, and most insidious, shopping day of the year. It's the Friday after Thanksgiving, and many stores have major sales that start as early as midnight on Thursday night, and many women consider it as big a challenge as any wild boar hunt. I usually stay as far away from any place of purveyance as possible on that day, since the unwary shopper can easily lose life or limb should they drop their guard for even a moment.
So once the battle plan was formed, I bundled wife and kid into my well rested car and off we went to visit my 'rents. It was a nice visit, and one with a magical moment in it. Many years ago I became the daddy of a little black kitten named Ripley. She is a bit of a weird cat. Her mom contracted some sort of virus during her gestation, the result of which is that Ripley seems to be perpetually drunk. She staggers, and stumbles, but is otherwise ok. Well, except for the fact that she has never been an overly affectionate animal. She lived with me for about a year, then I moved in with my friends K&T and their two cats. Unfortunately Ripley simply would not tolerate the other two, and I ended up having to send her to live with my folks. Nowadays whenever I go visit, if she comes out at all, she will sniff me and tolerate a few scratches on her head before she runs off to hide in the bedroom. Thursday was no different...so I thought. At one point Ripley come out of the bedroom, and slowly came over to me. I let her sniff my hand, and then to my utter surprise she rubbed her cheek against my fingers and let me pet her for a good five minutes. It was almost like she was forgiving me after all these years. It was very sweet.
After a very nice visit with the folks and critters we went back to the In-Law's. Dinner was awesome. Turkey, cornbread stuffing, sweet potato and green bean casseroles, and salad. We picked up chicken nuggets for the COA since she announced that she doesn't like turkey...a fussier eating child you won't find...and she ate without having to be told too often. Later, after I had passed out on the couch for a bit, we played SCRABBLE, and in a universal upset I won! I would like to point out that my Father-in-Law is a newspaper editor, so a SCRABBLE victory is hard won(quinces and jiving both on triple letter scores, thank you very much).
Friday morning Mrs. Marius and MIL sallied forth to brave the throngs, and I did as little as possible. We met for lunch at a lovely new Mediterranean restaurant...nothing beats cous cous and good hummus...and then wifey and I headed home. The COA stayed with her grandparents til tomorrow, and we spent a quiet evening eating the care package of leftovers MIL made us and watching the tube. Even though there was a lot of driving over the last two and a half days, there was also a lot of much needed resting. Tomorrow I have to drive half-way back to rendezvous with the MIL and pick up the young'n, then it's back to the grind on Monday.
And there was much rejoicing. :-)

Marius

D'oh!

My turn to be a sloth. We drove back from the southern reaches of our fair peninsula today, and as I was dozing on the couch I just realized that I darned near missed today's entry. I am too tired to do much now, but tomorrow I will relate the tale of the trip.

Night, night. Sleep tight.

Mariuzzzzzzzzzzzz

Bo Shuuda!

Good...urrrp!...dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

On this day I give thanks to all my friends here at The Corner, whether they be the old guard like Celebhith, Chris, Duke, KA, Queen Bad Kitty, Rico, Rosebuckle, Targon, or Turtle; or newer friends like Catt,the Monkey, Pigeon, Sheep and her kitties, Stinkypaw, and ZoZo. I thank you for your words, your thoughts, and your comments. I thank you for your blogs, or simply your words of wisdom and/or silliness. I thank you for taking this medium which can be so impersonal and keeping a human face on all these zipping electrons. And most of all I thank you for keeping me blogging for more than two years. You guys rock!!! And if there is anyone reading this whose name I left out, I beg your forgiveness and say that you, as well, rock!!! :-)

Love and turkey,
Marius

Oh Canada

Hi, folks, and welcome to a fully functional edition of The Corner. Sorry about yesterday. I started getting a headache late yesterday afternoon, and by the time I got home I felt like total ass. I tried to come up with a decent blog entry, but all that dribbled out of my malfunctioning brain were the few lines of drivel that appeared herein yesternight. I beg your forgiveness, gentle readers, and hope to make amends anon. And now, the news.

On September 15th an American truck flipped and burned during an accident at the Fort Erie Peace Bridge on the U.S.-Canadian border. Two Canadian border guards, Terry MacArthur and Derek Weston, risked their lives to pull 55-year-old Leslie Hammond from the wreckage and get him safely away from the conflagration. Yesterday Hammond was taken by ambulance to the border where he and his family had a tearful reunion with the men who saved his life. He could not speak, but there were tears in his eyes as he shook hands with his saviors. His wife and sister were there to thank the men for him. The two gentlemen are to receive bravery awards from the Niagara Police Dept.

Closer to home, the clan Marius will be headed south tonight to join the MIL and FIL for Thanksgiving. I fear we will only be in town until first thing Friday morning, so pray forgive us if we limit this visit to immediate family. December, however, is the time when working for a religiously affiliated school really pays off, and I shall be in town for a good portion of it, so visits aplenty will ensue.

And now it's time for...The Obligatory Hypothetical Audience Participation Question!

Perhaps you have heard of the SETI project, which scans the heavens for any signs of artificially generated radio signals. I say they are going about it the wrong way. I think rather than passively looking to the stars, we should broadcast one song that will entice alien civilizations to want to hear more from our tiny little chunk of rock. A sort of cosmic PR campaign. Given that such a signal would need to cross millions of miles of empty space, compression is vital. Therefore the transmission can only be a maximum of ten minutes long. What one song should we broadcast, and why? I'll post my answer tomorrow.

Give me your hands if we be friends, and Marius will restore amends.

Thanks for your patience,
M

Adrift

Synapses cease, struggle to fire, then silence. Memories trickle, concepts fade, and blog entries suck.


Me do better tomorrow.

Marius

To the Blogphone

I have a request for all y'all.(and for those of you outside the South, all y'all is good grammar) Many of you, especially Stinkypaw, have lots of other blogs linked to your site. I would like to expand my blogosphere horizons, but I just don't have the time to read all those other blogs, since I like to go back to the beginning and read if not all, at least some of the person's earlier posts. Given what you have learned, or know about me, can you recommend some other blogs that I might enjoy, or that everyone must read?

Gracias.
Marius

Tagged

So yesterday I'm walking along, minding my own business, staring at people trying to make their brains explode, when I feel a tiny sting on the back of my neck. Suddenly the world spun and faded to black. When I awoke after who knows how long my ear hurt. I quickly looked in the mirror that just happened, for the purpose of this torturously drawn out intro, to be attached to a nearby telephone pole. Damn! I said looking at the metal label hanging from my left lobe. I've been tagged! Then I realized I was clutching something in my hand. Looking down I beheld two stale Oreos(tm) and a slip of paper. On the paper were the following words:
You’ve been tagged!

Here are the rules:
a. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
b. Share 7 facts about yourself: some random, some weird.
c. Tag 7 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).

So I ate the cookies(hey, stale Oreos(tm) are better than no Oreos(tm) at all) and realized that the note was written with a French accent. That meant the culprit had to be Stinkypaw. Very well, madame, you have been duly linked, and now on to the dirt.

1. There are two literary devices I despise. One is mistaken identity, which is why I loathe The Comedy of Errors. The other is when there is a character with some sort of superhuman powers, i.e. Superman, and then those powers are taken away. If I wanted to see the adventures of Normalman I wouldn't have to buy a movie ticket or buy a bleeding book, I'd just ride the bus!!

2. While most people have a recurring dream that they are about to take a test that they haven't studied for, I keep dreaming that I'm about to fight in an SCA tournament(full contact medieval combat) and I've forgotten some or all of my armor, and I spend the rest of the dream running around trying to borrow enough gear to stay in the tourney.

3. Beets make me gag.

4. In my youth I fulfilled the classic male fantasy: a threesome. And yes, it is all it's cracked up to be. :-)

5. While I love to swim and SCUBA dive, lakes terrify me.

6. So do tree frogs.

7. With the exception of The Mask, The Truman Show, and Bruce Almighty I can't stand Jim Carrey. Adam Sandler as well, but without any exceptions.

There you go. Stuff you never wanted to know about me, and now you can't get out of your head. You're welcome. ;-)

And now I load the Marlin Perkins memorial dart gun and...

phoot!
Turtle
phoot!
Rabid Attack Sheep
phoot!
Celebhith
phoot
Loki
phoot!
PIKARESQUE
phoot!
Jeana
phoot!
Rosebuckle

Tag! You're it!! Now I need some ice for my ear, and a glass of milk.

Marius the Emo Thief

OhBlahDeeOhBlaDah

So here we are, just over half way through NaBlaSaMaCraRaMaLaMaDingDong and what have we achieved? I have seen wondrous things coming from the keyboards of folks like Monkey, whose exploits in seasonal confections and extemporaneous nudism make for great diversionary reading. Or Mdme. Stinkypaw, with tales of personal heroism and woe out of the Great White North that both illuminate and entertain. And the lovely and talented Purple Pigeon whose delightfully British way with words is only exceeded by her way with drawing pigeons, always brings a smile. And what of Marius...what of Marius...
Is a blog about blogging a valid subject, or merely literary masturbation just to meet an arbitrary post quota? Don't know...don't care. Gonna do it anyway. When I started this blog just prior to our escape from Louisiana I expected a few people would read it from time to time, mostly family, and that like all of my prior attempts to journalize my existence it would fade away after a few months. But almost immediately something changed in my brain and I started seeing the world through the lens of whether or not something was blog-worthy. I can't help wonder if it had something to do with Orson Scott Card's Ender series of books. In the series he predicts the Internet to some degree, and the protagonists create an online persona that foments unrest and introspection in a galaxy gone ambivalent. I always loved that concept, and I suppose a small part of my subconscious imagined me to be Demosthenes anew.(Demosthenes was the nom de plume of the characters in the books) So I suppose it is not all that surprising that I continue to blog after all. But the fact that anyone actually reads my blog on purpose still blows me away. And further, based on the polling results, the type of posts y'all dig best are the ones I figured were the most boring. You actually enjoy posts like this one, where we just..well...chat. I am a bit disappointed that my political diatribes ranked the lowest. I guess Anderson Cooper's job is safe for the moment. ;-) But I hope you'll forgive me for the occasional dig at the ludicracity of politics.
To bring this ramble to a close, let me just thank all of you for visiting my little corner of the intertubes. It thrills me to no end when you come by and leave a comment, but even if you only lurk you have my undying thanks.

And now, breakfast. Cheers, mates!

Marius

Too Cute

If I don't share this picture I'll be crushed by its overpowering cuteness.


moar funny pictures

E. T.?

Ok, I haven't mentioned this since I didn't want to whine overly much, but things have been rather strained here at Castle Marius financially. Mrs. Marius has been working as a waitress since July, but her bosses treat their employees like they are all teenagers working for extra gas money, so she's been getting at best 15 hours a week. Over the summer she went through a very lengthy application process to get a more stable government related job, at the end which she was told that she passed all the requirements and would then be put on the list of potential applicants should an opening arise. Great. So it's been a bit tight round here. My pay keeps us in the house, but little else. Fortunately that is all about to end since the government agency(I'm going to be cagey about the specifics of this until I know it's ok to blog about)finally called and she will start with them next week. So why am I bringing all this up now? Because last week our phone got turned off. We barely use the thing, and since we couldn't do anything about it until I got paid on Thursday there was no use fretting about it. But now, after nearly a week without it I'm thinking we should just abandon the landline altogether. We both have a cell phone, and the computer is on cable, so do we really need a monthly bill for something we can easily get elsewhere? Have any of you gotten rid of your landline? How has that worked out for you?

Marius the Curious

Do You Like Movies About Gladiators?

What does it take to shock an old pro like Kirk Douglas? I guess a lip-lock from John Travolta might just do it. Douglas had just presented a lifetime achievement award to the Hairspray star at the Santa Barbara Film Festival when Travolta expressed his gratitude. While initially a bit taken aback, Douglas went on to pose for many smiling photos with Travolta during the evening.

Marius Hornblower

I don't normally pat myself on the back, but I also rarely get any tangible feedback on my work as a lighting designer. Last Friday we had a 'responder' come see the show. Responders are theatre professionals who are asked by the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival to go to see college shows and respond. They speak to the cast and crew the night they watch the show, and then file a written report. I am potentially one such person, although so far I have not been able to attend a performance due to my own shows conflicting. I couldn't stay the night the woman was here, but today I read her written evaluation. She loved the show in general, and here is what she said about my end of things:

Technical Elements: The lighting and sound were seamlessly woven into the whole, providing atmosphere and resonance, harmony and mood. The execution was smooth, never distracting. Cues came in fluidly, causing no interruption or distractions, always supporting the scene and action. Lighting was ethereal in the Fairy scenes, gobos and green lighting added a woodland feel to the action in the forest. Mood was set and scenes moved from one location to the next with an appropriately ‘dreamlike’ ambience.

Gobos are metal patterns that we put into certain lights to throw shadows or images. In this case I have used several to simulate the look of moonlight filtering through trees.

Ok, I've crowed enough. I shall return to my normal self-flagellation right away.


[giggle]

Marius

Extravagence

I feel so naughty. I...I don't know what came over me. I mean, I know it's expensive, and completely self-indulgent, but it just felt so good. So...right, you know? I suppose I should think more about my family before being so totally selfish, but dammit I deserve to splurge every now and then, don't I? And don't get all holier-than-thou with me. I'm sure you've done the same thing, or something very similar. Why is it so wrong for me to treat myself well? Why can't I have something that's just for me for once? Why can't I be good to me for a change?! Why can't you bastards leave me alone?!! Ok, ok! You want me to say I'm sorry? Will that make you happy? Will that get you off my back?! All right. Fine. I'm sorry I filled my gas tank. There! Are you happy now?!!


i need a hug




;-)

WhoYouReMar?

Stinkypaw asked: What do you like to read?
We've already discussed that the first book I remember asking my mom to buy for me was a Star Trek book, but actually the first book I remember reading was a clever tale of a boy and his android companion called The Runaway Robot, by Lester DelRay. We ordered it from the Scholastic Book Club, and I reread it numerous times over my life. The original fell apart about 10 years ago, but shortly after I got married I went to the oracle of commercialism, e-Bay, and found a hard cover copy that I now own. The COTA has shown little interest in it, but I feel better for still having it. I read it again not too long ago, and though simplistic it is still a very fun read.
Between Star Trek and The Runaway Robot my enjoyment of hard-core Science Fiction was set. The term does not refer to space pr0n, but rather the genre of Science Fiction(you will never see me use the obnoxious abbreviation sci-fi)that sticks as close as possible to scientific probability. Of course, as we learn more about the universe such things change, sometimes drastically, but then it becomes very interesting to see what the common scientific assumptions were way back when. The first really hard-core books I read were Issac Asimov's Foundation Trilogy. I had been intimidated by the reputation of Asimov, but when I finally picked up the book I found it remarkably easy to read. It was also interesting from the point of view that in the 50's, when he wrote the series, atomic energy was 'the new thing' and Asimov envisioned it powering everything from starships to wrist watches. When I was in 6th grade I remember reading H.G. Wells' The War Of The Worlds. The nineteenth century prose threw me for a while(who knew that the word ejaculate could be used in polite company) but Wells had a way with words that is sheer mastery. I have also always been fascinated by vampires and ghosts, so naturally Anne Rice's vampire books are faves. The odd thing about Ms. Rice, to me anyway, is that whenever I've tried to read her non-vampire related books, she just seems long winded and boring. The Mayfair Witches series, for example. It took me nearly a year to read the first book, and when the second ended with enough finality that I felt no need to read the third I was greatly relieved. Another master of the horror genre, and who also writes brilliant Science Fiction, is Dan Simmons. His book Carrion Comfort is the only book I've ever read that had a scene in it that made me put the book down and walk away from it for a while. And his Hyperion series is a Science Fiction classic. One author whom I discovered later in life is Robert Heinlein. Stranger in a Strange Land is rightfully one of Science Fiction's 'must reads', but in my opinion so are his Friday and Time Enough For Love.

My forays into the world of Non-Fiction are fewer. I am an unashamed escapist, so I tend toward books that transport me somewhere else. But when I do stick to the 'real' world I like books that either make fun of it, or help me understand it better. Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time does a wonderful job of making the arcane world of quantum phenomena somewhat more understandable to the mathematically challenged like yours truly, and is actually fun to read. Books like Imponderables and The Physics of Star Trek help to answer the myriad of questions that float about our highly technical, yet almost wholly misunderstood world. And then there are the humorists. Dave Barry being at the apex, with Scott Adams a very close second. Bill Waterson's Calvin and Hobbes will always bring a smile, as will Gary Trudeau's Doonesbury.

I have read very few of 'the classics', I'm afraid. I read Catcher in the Rye for the first time a couple of years ago, and I think you are right, Monkey. (I think it was you who said this) If I had read it as a teenager I might have gotten more out of it. I enjoyed it, but found myself wondering at the following it has. I also tried to read Moby Dick not too long ago, but it meanders so much that I lost interest. I intend to try again, though. As for classic American literature, I mostly find it dry and boring. I guess I'm something of a snob, although I do my best not to disparage such genres, but if there aren't robots or vampires I tend to lose interest. I am, however, always open to suggestions, and will usually give any book a chance. I've even tried to read some biographies. Last Christmas I asked for, and received, Niel Armstrong's biography First Man. Unfortunately either I'm ill equipped for the style in which such books are written, or the author is not very good at his job. The thing reads like a text book, and I barely made it to Neil's high school graduation before I found myself putting longer and longer gaps between reading sessions. I eventually gave up with no small disappointment.

Some notable omissions to my preferred authors are Stephen King, Ray Bradbury, and most Fantasy authors. I have tried to read several of King's books, including Christine, The Stand, and It, and have yet to finish one. I agonized over this for many years when it finally hit me like a lightning bolt: I don't have to like Stephen King. It was the same with Bradbury. I read Fahrenheit 451 in the 7th grade, and while I liked the premise, I didn't care for the book. Then in High School I took a class on Science Fiction where we studied, in depth, Fahrenheit 451.(the teacher was a Bradbury fanatic) I liked it even less the second time around, and analyzing every page was agony. What I eventually realized was that while King and Bradbury are marvellous at creating well-told stories, I cannot stomach their writing styles. As for the Fantasy genre, I have read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy a few times, as well as some of the Xanth books, and attempted to read the interminable Shannara series by Terry Brooks, but they usually are so poorly written, or such absolute rip-offs of Tolkien that I get quickly disgusted and put the book down. One notable exception is the Noble Dead series by Barb and J.C. Hendee, which combines a well written world of swords and sorcery with vampires and other undead nasties. We are thoroughly enjoying that series.

Wow. This was just supposed to be a short intro before a list of authors. I guess I made the coffee a little stronger than usual this morning. I hope this wasn't too boring, and I'd love to hear your favorite books/authors.

Literarily yours,
Marius

ChriMboHoHoHo

Tis the season for extremist rhetoric, tra la la la la, la la la la. How soon before the true first signs of Christmas are seen: the first lawsuit of the season? They're so cute with their 'Christmas trees offend my atheist sensibilities', or 'if the city won't pay for a 40' menorah, then I'll be damned if my tax dollars will go toward a 40' Christmas tree'! Most of you either know, or have probably figured out that I am not a religious man. In fact I'm about as close to an athiest as one can get while still being scared shitless that there really is a God and your pissing him off. But those who like to scream about the separation of Church and State need to reread the Constitution. It gurantees freedom of religion, but not freedom from religion. Personally I couldn't care less what the city, state, or federal governments do to celebrate the holidays. They're mostly just anglicized masks taped over far more ancient pagan rituals anyway, so who gives a crap. $50 billion to Iraq I'll bitch about. $5,000 for a giant tree in front of the White House, BFD. Let's hope that this holiday season is different and folks cease to bicker over the minutiae of how we celebrate this holiest of times, and focus instead on what is truly important: greed and rampant consumerism.

Happy ChristMaKwanzaChannukamas. The Flying Spaghetti Monster bless us, everyone.

Pace,
Marius

Pandering To The Masses

A very dear friend of mine recently deleted her entire blog after deciding that it was too negative, and not of any real interest to anyone else. True or not I respect her decision, though for the record I did enjoy her views on the world and I hope she'll continue to drop by The Corner from time to time, but it got me thinking about my own little particle of the interwebs. I'll admit that I am constantly, if pleasantly, surprised that anyone wants to read my drivel, but since there are a number of you who do I feel it's time to ask you just what you like to see here. To that end I have put up a poll to your right. You may choose any or all of the options, and if there is something that you would like to see that I didn't/haven't thought of please feel free to let me know.
Ok, time in. I'll do a real post later.

Love ya's,
Marius

Yummmmmmmmm...

Here in Florida it's that most wonderful time of the year. Publix supermarkets stock their shelves with a thick, sweet nectar that they call eggnog, but I have no doubt is distilled from the idyllic dreams of puppies and kittens. I love this stuff, as I've blogged in the past, and am grudgingly grateful that it is only available for a couple of months a year, else Marius the Hutt would be slobbing his way around the Tampa area doing his best Baron Harkonnen impression. I only bring this up because 1. my lovely wife just gave me some.(eggnog, that is), and 2. I am curious if there are any seasonal treats that you look forward to with much anticipation, and no small amount of guilt.

Bo shuuuda!
Marius

Mr. Answer Man

Greetings, and welcome to MarNoWoTo. I worked all weekend, so I'm taking today off. Now that I have waxed political, and buzzkillish(if you're a cryptozoologist) I shall endeavor to answer the unanswered questions given me by y'all. Monkey asked if the age difference twixt my wife and I is difficult to deal with. Actually we rarely think about it. I think my career as a teacher keeps me more in touch with the younger folks, so our experiences weren't all that different. On the plus side she has totally gotten me out of being a Classic Rock snob and turned me on to many new bands. Also having a kid when she was twenty may have helped her mature a bit earlier.

What is it like being a step-parent? Not easy. I was a step-child for most of my life, so I know what it's like. I had a very good role model in my step-dad, and I have done my best to echo his style. That being said, my brother and I were teenagers when my folks got married, so I have had to modify my tactics with the Child-O-The-Apocalypse and be a little more hands-on. My step-dad pretty much let my mom handle us unless and until we disrespected her, then he waded in and shut us down stat. The COTA's dad is on good terms with us, and I do my best to get them together as often as possible, but he lives in Mississippi so it's only a couple times a year. As for the actual parenting part, I suppose it's easier if you have the chance to grow with your child into being a father. Becoming the instant dad of a 5 year old was challenging, and I don't always do things right, but I'm learning...or at least trying to.

Why did you join the military? I was living in Jacksonville, FL, working as a security guard, making jack squat, and head over heels in love. Despite the protestations of my girlfriend that I should not make any major life changes for her(oh what fools we mortals be)I managed to ignore her advise and enlist. I did everything I could to make sure that I would get stationed near enough to her so that, once I had something of a future to offer her, I could propose. This caused me to get stationed in North Carolina, which wouldn't have been too bad except that she was seeing someone else before I was even out of basic. Some, including me, have reviled her for that, but she did try to warn me not to base my future on her. And, to her credit, the guy she left me for is still(as far as I know) her husband and father of her children. I don't really regret my time in the service. Working on airplanes was really cool, even if the military part of it sucked. Oh, yeah, for those of you who don't know I was a communication and navigation specialist on C-130 cargo planes. (below)


What did you hate about being a teacher? I love being a teacher, but the maturity level of high school students is far lower than my patience allows. I don't know if I ever was like the kids in my classes, but if I was I have long forgotten about it. They are rude, unruly, disrespectful, and destructive. They broke a bench vise fer cryin out loud!(that's second only to breaking an anvil) I know that's how kids are supposed to be, which is why I left. Some people have the Sidney Poitier gene and see kids as a challenge and a fertile opportunity to nurture them. I just wanted to run a hose from the tailpipe of my car to the classroom. To be fair I had a few good kids, 5 out of 50, and I would gladly work with them any day, but the rest just annoyed me. I prefer college where I can relax and be a teacher without being a disciplinarian and a role model.

Were your parents theater folks? Did you grow up on the road? Wouldn't that have been cool? Alas, my folks were/are about as normal as they come. We were fairly nomadic during the first decade of my life or so, but once we got to Florida we stayed put.

How did you get down to FL? Again, the tale is not that interesting. My step-dad worked for Pratt & Whittney in Connecticut. My folks wanted out of the frozen north, so he put in for a transfer to their West Palm Beach, Florida plant and got it. We spent our first year in Miami, and he commuted 160 miles a day, then we moved to the West Palm Beach area a year later and my folks lived there for over 20 years.

And now Rico's questions.

What is your most politically incorrect opinion? I've been chewing on this one for a while. I was at a loss, since a lot of my opinions would ruffle the feathers of at least half the country. Finally I settled for my opinion on the law. I think that most of the so-called victimless crimes: drug use, and prostitution to name the two biggest ones that come to mind, should be legalized and regulated. I don't think that morality can, or should be legislated, and anything that is not inflicted upon another unwillingly, and does no harm to anyone but the active participant, should not be the business of the government.

What is your favorite fluffy animal? Why the three-toed sloth, of course.


Rico also asked for a tale from my Air Force days, and I'm still trying to think of one that might be interesting. Duke and Turtle will back me up on this, I'm sure, but the military is mostly just another job...albeit with bigger toys. Maybe tomorrow.

Peace, y'all.
Marius

Salute

Duke, Turtle, I know we were all non-coms, but I salute you anyway. Happy Veteran's Day.

Stagehand Strike

Some of you may be aware that Local 1 of the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees went on strike yesterday, effectively shutting down Broadway. I have been trying to find out the details of why the strike was called, but the union is being very tight-lipped about their grievances. The producers are saying that the have been trying to eliminate outdated hiring practices, such as minimum crew numbers and draconian break requirements, and on the surface are sounding like the reasonable parties. Go here for a more in depth telling of the producer's side of the story. I'll let y'all know if I find out anything more.

Funny

Get Fuzzy

Ahh, family values.

Hi, and welcome to RepHoJudgeNo. I just love the Republican ideal for America. Mom cleans the house, cooks the meals, raises the children, pumps out babies on demand, while Daddy goes to work, brings home the bacon, plays ball with the boys, ignores the girls, and picks up hookers in public restrooms.


Wait a minute...picks up hookers in public restrooms?

That's right folks, the party that believes that allowing gays to marry would sully the sanctity of their oh-so-fragile God-endorsed marriages brings us yet another of their members(hee hee)busted soliciting sex in the potty. Florida State Representative Bob Allen was convicted on Friday of soliciting sex from a prostitute in a public park restroom, a second-degree misdemeanor. When sentenced he could face up to 60 days incarceration and a $500 fine. Where are your family values now, you sanctimonious party of hypocrites?
Don't get me wrong. I am not a Democrat looking to ridicule the Republicans at any opportunity. I tend to side with the Dems more out of the 'lesser of two evils' doctrine than any ideological similarity. In fact, I would love to give Washington and enema and flush all of those bloated, pampered parasites out and start fresh. But since that is not really an option we are stuck with what we've got. If the GOP actually practiced what they preach: smaller government, lower taxes, fiscal responsibility, I'd be all for them. But over the last two decades it seems that while the Democrats merely talk a lot and do relatively little, the Republicans have adopted a de facto F-You attitude toward the American people...wait, strike that...toward the rest of the world. It's almost as if they believe that they can do whatever they want with impunity, and how dare we question them. It still boggles my mind when I think of the millions of taxpayer dollars spent to impeach President Clinton over a hummer in the oval office, while Bush has committed acts just verging on treason, and his fellow Republicans are regularly getting busted for sexual exploits that make Clinton look like Mother-frikken-Theresa. And these pompous pricks have the nerve to say that it's the gay population that is destroying the American family! GHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHH!!!!!

[ahem]Um, sorry. Got a little carried away there. To my non-US readers I apologize for this digression that probably means little to you. However, you might take a bit of comfort in the knowledge that there are many of us here in the States who dislike our Buffoon-In-Chief just as much, if not more, than you do. I never thought I would long for the Reagan/Thatcher days, but even though I didn't like what they were doing, at least it made a lick of sense.

Ok, need more coffee.

Love and kittens,
Marius

MidSumNiDrePics

Just to show that I did remember how to do lights. I know these pics came out blurry, but I'm going to try to get some better shots of the whole show during Sunday's matinee, and I'll post some then.



And this shot was taken just a short walk out the back door of the theatre. I really love my new job. :-)

SquatchWatchNessUfoMo

Back in September the Bigfoot crowd got an unintended boost from a hunter in Pennsylvania's Allegheny National Forest. Rick Jacobs had set up an automatic night-vision camera equipped with a motion sensor and infrared flash in his elevated deer stand hoping to sight a wall-worthy buck. What he got, instead, was a few pics of some adorable bear cubs, and the above shot. To his credit he makes no claims that the critter is anything. All he says is that he doesn't know what it is. The 'experts' at the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization say it's a 'juvenile sasquatch'. Real animal experts, like Jerry Feaser of the Pennsylvania Game Commission, say it's a sick bear, possibly with mange. While the appearance of such beasties is rare, it is not unheard of. And the fact that the critter in question appeared with other bear cubs was sort of a give away. Back in July a rancher in Texas killed what she claimed was a chupacabra, a legendary creature of Hispanic lore that supposedly drinks the blood of livestock. DNA tests showed that it was a diseased coyote. Then, of course, there is Nessie herself. Reports of some large creature inhabiting Scotland's Loch Ness date back to the 500's, although the stories have been garbled over time. The most significant photo, the Surgeon's photo(below) was later proved to be a hoax.

So why is it that despite the most tenuous of 'evidence' people insist on believing in things that are, at best, improbable? I used to be a devout believer in Bigfoot, Nessie, aliens on Earth, etc. But as such things continued to go unproven, and as I grew more aware of the difficulty in such things remaining unfound, I abandoned such beliefs. It may be logically impossible to prove that something doesn't exist, but to paraphrase Carl Sagan, extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. It seems rather unlikely that a population of large, air breathing animals could live in a land-locked lake for centuries without a corpse washing up, or a fisherman catching one, or given the number of people looking for the thing a decent picture being taken. Sure, it's possible for Nessie to be like the Sith, with only two alive at any one time, but that would have lead to a genetic dead end centuries ago. It is highly unlikely for a species in a closed environment like the loch to exist without a significant breeding population. It's the same with Bigfoot. I won't say that there has never been a large hitherto undiscovered primate living in the forests of North America, but as we encroach further and further into the wild areas of the continent I find it harder and harder to believe that encounters with the creature are still so scarce. As for aliens and UFO's, one would think that I would be at the vanguard of folks screaming I Want To Believe, but until the theory of relativity is disproved, and the speed of light can be circumvented, it seems improbable to me that some race would dedicate millenia of space travel to come all the way out to the galaxy's edge just to shred some cows and probe redneck colons. And as for the conspiracy theorists who claim the government has been hiding alien presence on Earth for decades, just look at the Iraq war. We are governed by the Keystone Kops who can't keep even minor secrets out of the press for more than a couple of days. I doubt they could keep a lid on aliens for half a century. Do I believe that we are the only intelligent life in the universe? Absolutely not. I just find it hard to believe that another space-faring race would travel hundreds of thousands of light years just to hide in the closet.
So I still ask why. The universe is so exciting and fascinating on its own, why do people need to invent stuff to make it 'more' interesting. Before the industrial revolution people saw fairies and angels, now it's aliens and cryptids. What is it about people that they will gladly believe in the highly improbable, when with just a little effort and research the possible and extant is every bit as fascinating? Is it because it's easy to believe in something, but more difficult to actually do some research? Or is it the need to live in a world that is, in some way, mysterious and unfathomable? And does that ineffability mean that, since understanding is innately impossible, the believer is relieved of the burden of proof? I have no idea. All I do know is that the chip in my head that the CIA implanted when the aliens took me aboard the mothership is telling me I need more coffee.

The truth is out there.
Trust no one.
Burma shave.

Marius

NoCopOutMo

Ok, so today's posts have been lamer than lame, and I apologize. Let me explain...no, there is too much. Let me sum up. For those of you unfamiliar with the theatrical process, preproduction for a play is fairly low key until the two weeks prior to opening. Then the pace of construction goes plaid. The normal 8 hour work day balloons to 'however long you can safely wield power tools' and sleep is a rare commodity. The final week before opening, known as Tech Week, is the most frantic. You work all day, from the wee smalls til around 6ish when the tech rehearsals begin. That's when the disparate aspects of the show; actors, sound, lights, scenery, costumes, etc. are all blended together. Then, after the rehearsal, painting happens. It is a very exhausting time, but when the curtain rises on opening night it's all worth it. The downside is that the day after a show opens the technical director, who must coordinate all this madness, and who would be yours truly, is usually beyond exhausted. Such is the case with me today. I kept hoping that inspiration would strike, but after writing an entire entry about why I like breasts I had enough brain cells still firing to make the decision to scrap it. For the record it was very tasteful, but totally pointless and irrelevant. So I posted a silly picture, and then a stupid question. I tried to get excited about Congress overturning our asshole president's latest veto, but it was over something so banal and uninteresting...an unfunded increasing of the multi-billion dollar backlog of the Army Corps of Engineers...that it wasn't even worth mentioning. Then I scanned my usual news sources, but nothing suitably weird or outrageous has happened lately. So, I'll pounce on Turtle's question.
Turtle asked what my favorite play is, regardless of whether I'd worked on them or not. If I had to pick one, it would be Jesus Christ: Superstar. I saw a professional tour of the show once and it totally blew me away. The crappy 70's movie does not do the show justice. I don't know if I would survive the show, as it is HUGE, but it would be totally worth it. And I would do my damnedest to weasel myself into the part of Pilate.
A very close second would be The Importance of Being Earnest, by Oscar Wilde. I have never had the chance to do that show, but I love the way Wilde wielded sarcasm like a Sith lord. Simply brilliant.
Finally in the category of plays I'd love to do is Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. It is a wonderful slice of absurdism wrapped around two minor characters from Hamlet. There is a delightful movie starring Gary Oldman and Richard Dreyfuss that you simply must watch someday.

{aside: Thank goodness for the auto-draft function of blogger. I just accidentally shut down my browser at this point. you probably felt the disturbance in the Force}

As for plays I've done before that I'd love to revisit, Noises Off is top of the list. It is a spoof of British Farce that we did while I was an undergrad, and I never got bored with the show.
And Turtle's follow-up was what show do I absolutely dread. Again that is a wide field, but there are two that really make me want to go fetal under the bed. The first is a dreadful musical I had the misfortune to run follow-spot for one Summer called Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. The songs are annoying, the music trite, and the plot tenuous to the point of wispy. It is about seven men who need wives in the Wild West, and that's about all I remember. It was just annoying.
And the all time worst show, and most theatre professionals agree with me, is Cats. I had free tickets to see that show at the Broward Center many years ago. My date and I left at intermission. What a litter box of theatrical poop! To call it a musical is an insult to Cop Rock. It's more of a concert in cat suits. The plot is about as coherent as a porn flick, giving the weakest of transitions from one song to another. I think I'd rather work the drive-through at Taco Viva again than work that crap-fest.

Wow. I guess I had some aggression pent up there. Anyway, if a theatre goer ye be, share your favorite, or most dismal experiences.

Hasta manana,
Marius

MamGlamHamIam

Ok, you wanted to see it, and your wish is my command. I give you...the breast post.

Let me broach this tender topic by stating that, certain girlfriends past notwithstanding(shut up, Rico), I have never been that into large breasts. While physical attributes have rarely been a major starting point to any of my relationships, when I have my choice I prefer a slim woman with a smaller bustline. My wife is the perfect shape for me. I also spend a great deal of time pondering the underlying motivations behind many of my male reactions to things. I have come up with explanations for smiling, infidelity, and the ever popular 'why do guys dig lesbians' questions, but this one has me baffled. There is a young lady in one of my classes, and allow me to restate that I am teaching college now-no minors any more, who is rather gifted in the mamary department. Normally this would not phase me except that she seems to enjoy displaying her bounty by wearing spaghetti strapped tank tops to class. She also is not in the least bit shy about talking about them. So what I can't figure out is that, despite my aforementioned disinclination toward cups that runneth over, I have to constantly wrestle with my eyes to keep them north of her collar bones. It's almost as if that little lizard in my brainstem is screaming 'BOOOOOOOOOOOOOBS!!!!!!' and trying to grab the controls. It reminded me of a conversation I had with one of my squadron mates when I was in the Air Force. One of our supervisors was a woman who was in her early fifties and was, to use a generous term, plain. Actually mannish would be more apt. She was also a bit overweight, with a 'full figure'. I liked her a lot, and she was one of my favorite sargeants to work with, but I never had the slightest sexual thought about her. Then one night after she had left the room my buddy turned to me and said 'Man, whenever I see her all I can do is stare at those boobs.' I was stunned into a rare silence. He couldn't care less what the rest of her looked like, all he saw was a large pair of boobs.
One of our local radio stations has a contest every year called Jingle Jugs where they give away 12 breast augmentation surgeries, and I am stunned at the flood of entries they get. I just don't understand why bigger is better, even apparantly to my own Neanderthal pig-lizard brain. Any thoughts?

Bonus Round

Since the movie question garnered such a huge response, here's an addendum. What film did you have the least expectations for, that turned out to be a classic. Personally I'm torn between Ghostbusters and Galaxy Quest. The first came after a string of truly forgettable SNL alumni films(anyone remember Dr. Detroit?), and the second could have easily fallen into the Gorge of Eternal Suckitude. But both films far exceeded expectations and took their rightful places in cinematic Olympus.

Tag! You're it!

Lame

Hi, and welcome to SixDegKevBac, day 8. Stinkypaw tagged me to relate what five things do I love that would brand me 'lame' out in the real world. So, before I get back to work, here they are:

5. Blogging. There is still a general belief that bloggers are either nerds, or activists. I'm no activist.

4. ABBA. A few years ago I finally stopped fighting the fact that I like ABBA. Besides, one of their songs is about a spot light, so how can I not love them.

3. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Yummmmmmmmmy!!!!!

2. My Saturn. I love my car.

And the number one "lame" thing I love:

Star Trek. Need I say more?

Ok, back to the salt mine.

Marius

Coming Soon

I'll be posting today's NamFlamNaPalmDamn entry later. So to keep you company here's a chimp washing a cat.

MarTorRovBlow

This is a picture of a tornado on the surface of Mars taken by the Spirit rover. Go here for a series of photos that show the path of the tornado.

RanDoMuBlo

Here are some completely unrelated babbles from my exhausted brain.

I once had a girlfriend who named her naughty bits Celeste. Have you ever named any of your body parts? I name my cars, but that's about it.

Yesterday I was drinking a can of store brand soda when I noticed something on the side of the can. It said: Warning: Contents Under Pressure. Handle With Care. The human race is truly doomed.

If you were stranded on a desert island, and you were starving, and had a gun with only one bullet, and on the island with you were a koala, a panda, and a manatee, who becomes dinner?

What movie have you had the highest hopes for, that produced the greatest disappointment? Not counting sequels, since they almost always suck. I'm torn between The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and VanHelsing.

Yeah, this is pretty weak. I'll try to do better tomorrow.

Marius the Weary

NoKnowLight'sGlo

Somewhere in the last two months I've forgotten how to design lights. A Midsummer Night's Dream opens on Thursday, and the lights look like ass, and I'm not sure how to fix them. Oh Helios, Apollo, Hyperion, Aether grant me your wisdom...or at least let me fake it for a few days.

I'm calling the waaambulance now.


Blech!
Marius the Suck

Update:
Well, since my ride in the waaambulance, I've decided to man up and beat this thing. Since 7am I have wrestled this photonic phucker into submission, and the show looks great. Yay me!!


Mood swing much?

NoBlowPowderD'oh!

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The gunpowder, treason and plot,
I know of no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot

In 1605 Guy Fawkes and others attempted to destroy the British Parliament building with a large cache of gunpowder. They were discovered and Fawkes was executed. Today the British celebrate the foiling of the plot with Bonfire Night, typically observed with fireworks and bonfires and including the burning of Guy Fawkes effigies. So, happy Bonfire Night, Pigeon. }:-|>

NoThroRiceYo

When last we met, Em and I had just gotten engaged. I had a job waiting in Louisiana just 9 weeks from that day, so we had to move quickly. Let me say that if you are to get married, plan and do it quickly. Yes, 9 weeks is an awfully short time to make a wedding happen, and I did offer to elope about a dozen times during that period, but I could not imagine spreading that stress out over a year or so. Since we both are into things medieval we decided on a period-esque wedding. That being said, we had both attended period weddings where we saw unhappy attendees wearing ill-fitting borrowed garb and feeling very uncomfortable. Therefore we decided that only those directly in the wedding party would be required to wear garb. All were welcome to, and many did, but no one was expected to. My mom got a dress that looked sort of medievalish, but my dad wanted nothing to do with anything other than a suit and tie. Em's folks we more amenable, and Em made her dad a nice outfit to give her away in. Brielle was our flower girl, and our ring bearer was the son of my best man, A. The bride's maids all wore green dresses, and my entourage was dressed, as A put it in his toast, 'like extras from a Captain Morgan's ad.' Even the pastor, who had been Em's pastor since she was a young girl, wore his best robes and went along with the theme.


Here is the wedding party.


The wedding itself was much larger than I had expected. Of course, Em comes from a Southern Baptist family, so of the 200+ people on the guest list the lion's share were from her side of the family. Most of my extended family are in Connecticut, and only a few of them were able to make it down. We were also disappointed that my minions who helped me propose had a show that afternoon and couldn't attend. But we had a special party for them later to make it up to them. My main contribution to the event was my connections to the entertainment industry. I hate it when I go to a wedding and you can't hear what's going on. So I had Em, the pastor, and myself all wearing wireless microphones. Also my friends Lyds and Holland ran the sound and video cameras only on the condition that we would not attempt to pay them. I did, however, receive a ration of crap for insisting on doing the sound check myself. Holland also brought the sound equipment for the reception, so we were spared the expense of a DJ. Em wrote the vows, and my friend Trish sang during the service. Emily looked radient as she came down the aisle, and I got a lump in my throat. Brielle was dropping rose petals, and Darrian(the ring bearer) was picking them up, which was both adorable and funny. The only real glitch in the ceremony was the point where we both drink from a single chalice, but the maid of honor forgot to put anything in the chalice, but we faked it and nobody noticed. All together the ceremony lasted a little under 30 minutes, and we beat feet for the reception.

We arrive at the reception.


The head table.

The reception was great. The food was awesome, the cake even more so. I surprised Em by singing 'I Swear' to her. We ate, danced(I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing was our first dance), did the Time Warp, and visited as much as we could. After what seemed like only a few minutes, but was actually 3 hours, my mom came up to me and whispered 'Some folks want to leave, but no one can until you go.' I had forgotten that our departure was part of the ritual. So, reluctantly, we made it known that we were leaving. The gauntlet was established, and we were assailed with billions of tiny paper hearts(rice being passe these days). My car had been appropriately anointed with balloons, streamers, and rude sayings in shaving cream, and we drove off to the undisclosed location(a local bed and breakfast) for our wedding night. We were exhausted, and the first thing we did when we got there was take a nap. Later we...well, some things don't need to be written about, but that was more than five years ago now, and we're still going strong.

See ya tomorrow,
Marius