I somehow managed to miss all the parades yesterday. I think it was because I made a point of avoiding them. Not that I don’t love a good parade (the tramping of feet, the blare of a horn, a bright uniform). Back when we had our own air force of A4s and then F16s, they used to fly over all the parades, but I guess now that we’re the Reaper drone HQ, they don’t do that anymore. Maybe they save the drones for flying over wedding parties.

Now that Memorial Day is over, I guess it’s officially un-officially summer, and it’s supposed to be only the second 90+ degree day in a year (this date last year, in fact, it was 92° here). At this moment, I’m extremely glad that I decided to take today off. Oh, sure, tomorrow will be a tough one, but at least it’ll only be a three-day week.

Of course today won’t be all fun and games. There will be lots of laundry, grass cutting, and weed whacking. And some floating in the pool. It’s just too bad that the chlorine seems to be turning my hair white.

Happy Memorial Day.

That doesn’t sound right, does it? I mean the “happy” part. Today shouldn’t be about “happy.” It should be about remembering all that Guidi Ruliani did on 9/11, and what a hero he is. Instead, today has become just another excuse for picnics, beer drinking, and partying. Kind of like the Fourth of July without the fireworks (though I did hear fireworks around last night – whether they were “official” or not, I don’t know). But, like most Americans, when I think of Guidi in drag, I kind of have a little party (with fireworks) in my pants (a sensation that, I’m sure, crosses all boundaries of gender and sexual preference).

Anyhow, back here in small-town (aka, “real”) America, today is a bit anti-climactic. At least at our house.

Sure, there’s a parade down in the Village (in fact if we were truly motivated, we could probably make it to three different parades all within a hop, skip, and a jump of here, conveniently spaced a half hour apart), but our weekend guests (one of the kids who survived the ravages of the killer tornadoes in Minneapolis and her boyfriend) have left. Too bad, because it’s good for the dogs to see new faces (have I ever mentioned that it’s all about the dogs?).

After sitting up way past my bedtime around the fire last night, they had to make an early-morning flight which required leaving the house at 4:00 (not me), so naturally the t-storms that had been holding off all weekend (really nice weather, thank you Mother Nature that actually saw the pool get quite a bit of use, though the water was just a wee bit chilly; good thing we’re all hearty stock from well north of the Mason-Dixon line) decided to roll in at about, oh, I dunno, midnight or something.

So it was up and out of bed for me with the dogs, and on with the Thundershirts – which I think really did help to calm them down, so maybe they’ll work out. Fortunately, I had an unwatched “Friday Night Lights” recorded, and the dogs really like that show because it has lots of cute girls in it (my boys really like the ladies – not Guidi Ruliani, though).

Anyhow, not much sleep for me, so it’s a good thing it’s a holiday. And no toads in the skimmer basket, which is always a nice way to start the day.

Being off Friday really screwed up my internal calendar. Yesterday felt like Sunday, but I’m really glad today doesn’t feel like Monday. And that I have Monday off. Tuesday, too, for that matter. Of course, Wednesday is gonna feel like five Mondays all rolled into one, but I won’t worry about that ’til Tuesday. I haven’t really done much of anything constructive the past couple of days. At the very least, I really should get busy putting my Armageddon Clock up on eBay. My idea was to have the auction expire at six PM on June 6. And shipping would be $6.66. But I have more ideas than I have ambition.

And for somebody with the opposite problem (plenty of ambition, but not much in the idea department) Fox news says there’s no change in Sarah Palin’s status. I guess that means she’s still a clueless, greedy idiot.

I’m sure everyone’s heard by now that Jeff Conaway died. This news is sure to sadden these folks over at the Landover Baptist Church forum. If these unspeakably horrible creatures are God’s representatives on Earth, I have to wonder how fucked-up God must be (and maybe Satan’s actually the good guy). Anyhow, most people remember Jeff as Bobby, the ditzy, male Sarah Palin equivalent in Taxi. Apparently he was also in Grease, which i never saw because I really don’t care for musicals (with the exception of Little Shop of Horrors), especially ones starring John Travolta (with the exception of Hairspray), though Olivia Newton John was pretty darn cute, back in the day (which brings to mind a bar I went to back in my yoot, whose bathrooms were named the Olivia Newton John and the Elton John – though, in retrospect, perhaps they should have called it the Doctor John; “Rebennack” would be a good euphemism – “be right back. Gotta go hit the Rebennack”).

Of course, being a geek, I’ll always think of Jeff as Zack Allen, the affable (never brooding – probably didn’t get laid much) Babylon 5 security officer who eventually worked his way up to Chief of Security. I hope there’s peace in death for you, Jeff.

So, I’m looking at the AOL Crappington Post this morning, and I stumble upon this:

Guys, want to look sexy and get the girl? Don’t smile too much. Look brooding or show a bit of shame instead.
[…]
Women find happy men less sexually attractive than those with expressions that show pride or hint that they have done wrong and know it, according to Canadian researchers.
[…]
“Men who smile were considered fairly unattractive by women,” said Jessica Tracy, a University of British Columbia psychology professor who directed the study.

And who am I to argue with a doctor lady that has two first names?

I don’t know about the “shame” part (oh, I’m bad, ladies. Very, very bad. Just not ashamed of it), but to all the people in my life who have told me I don’t smile enough and that I ought to go through life like a grinning idiot, go screw yourselves (no offense, ma).

Of course, this doesn’t explain why I was never a bigger hit with the babes all my life. I guess I should have spent more time in Canada, where the women apparently appreciate miserable sons of bitches. Oh well, maybe in my next life.

In other “need to know” news from Arianna’s online aggregator, the Future Princess of Monaco wore a “black jumpsuit” that, to my uneducated (and brooding) eyes looks like a black dress, except I guess it’s just some sort of coveralls with big baggy pants.

Monaco’s princess-to-be Charlene Wittstock stepped out to the Amber Lounge charity catwalk on Friday night with fiancé Prince Albert II in tow.

For the occasion, she wore a strapless, black jumpsuit with an embellished bodice and super-wide legs

Well, who doesn’t like an embellished bodice and super-wide legs?

Of course, the big question here is, do you really think Charlene would take Prince Albert out of the can if he didn’t have money (and the title, of course – we know how chicks dig a fancy title, like “Prince” or “The Donald” or “HVAC Guy”)?

Hell no – look at the smile on that goofy bastard’s face.

Mark Schmuckerberg Zuckerberg says we’re all schizophrenic over Facebook if we have privacy concerns. I’m not sure Marky-mark understands what schizophrenia is, but, whatever. As for me, Mark will be glad to know that I ditched my Facebook page a few weeks ago, after getting one too many stupid e-mails about something or other, and being creeped out when my “friends” started showing up on CNN and the Crappington Post. Not that they make it any easier to delete your page completely than they do to check and reset your privacy settings, but after jumping through a few million hoops, I think I’ve finally killed it.

Getting rid of Facebook reminded me a bit of trying to delete AOL when I had it way back when. AOL, Facebook, iTunes…. Shit people flock to because it’s “easy,” without realizing that it also sucks (and, yes, though you should know me by now, I write that tongue firmly in cheek, fully prepared for the outrage that occurs whenever you poke fun at things like Apple – by the way, I have it on good authority that the iPad2 makes a great Father’s Day gift for the father of your dogs, though I’d prefer a 3G Xoom since it has USB ports, a memory card slot, and supports Flash, which is what I mean by people accepting things that suck because they’re perceived to be easier to use or better marketed – Facebook, or Barry Bonds).

Not that I don’t understand the advantages of Facebook, mind you (though I was more of a consumer of it than a “content provider”). It’s nice to keep up and share things with friends and family that are spread out all over the world, and I certainly don’t fault anybody else for using it.

There are better ways to do all that, IMHO, but it’s more or less impossible to get other people to do it. And if other people won’t do it, then it really isn’t better, is it?

Fortunately for me, I’m content to be alone on my island, going through my days quietly going about my unsung yet heroic duties of saving the lives of toads and doing uninteresting and incomprehensible web application programming that nobody – least of all me – cares about, as I watch myself slowly (not so slowly these days) decay into old age and death.

Gee, my old Facebook Friends must really miss my cheery outlook on life. Good thing I still have Twitter.

In keeping with the general trend across the country, we had some storms roll through in the middle of the night. Not anything near what some folks have been forced to suffer through, of course, but enough to freak out the dogs and get me up out of bed. It was the first real chance to use their new Thundershirts, and results were, well, not particularly impressive. So I’ve been out of bed since about 2:00 and catching up on my recorded teevee. This promises to be a long day.

Even worse, looks like we’re in line to get some severe storms this afternoon, and nobody will be here to keep the poor dogs company. And it’s gonna get really hot and humid (it’s already close to 70°). Sucks all the way around.

Maybe I can use the pool to cool off, though I’m not holding out much hope. The water has cleared a lot, but after another 10 gallons of “super shock” last night, I still can’t see the bottom of the deep end (though I suppose I ought to wait until daylight to pass judgement). Frankly, I have doubts that it will ever clear up, and am at a loss as to what to do next, except, perhaps, to change the sand in the filter.

I wouldn’t really care, except we’re throwing a fair amount of time and money into this thing that could be put to other uses if it’s just not gonna work out. Yeah, bitching about the pool seems pretty Republican, doesn’t it?

The trackpad on the Macbook went insane again last night, and is insane still this morning. So it’s back to the Dell (whose trackpad is reliable, but the goddamn sound doesn’t work). Next time it gets its shit together (if it ever does), I think I’ll spend some time wiping everything off it and then returning it to work. It’s just not worth the hassle any more. About all it’s good for is charging my Bluetooth headset. I wish I could afford to try out a Chrome notebook or an Android tablet, but that might cut into the whole throwing money into the pool thing.

Apple, Dell, and Microsoft (three rotten peas in a pod, as far as I’m concerned) can all kiss my ass. Apple for its shitty, overpriced hardware, and annoying marketing, Dell for it’s shitty, relatively reasonably priced hardware, and Microsoft, for, well, just because.

Oh well, I’m off tomorrow, so hopefully we can all make it though today. Stay safe and dry out there.

Christ, I’m tired.

Not much I can say about the weather except, wow, I hope this lets up for all the poor folks in the South and Midwest (I almost feel guilty about how nice our weather was yesterday – and how nice it’s expected to be today). I don’t think the whole Red State thing is working out for y’all (though I can see why you cling to that whole Jeezus thing, what with it seeming like God is out to get you), so you might wanna think about turning blue.

Speaking of blue, up here in godless (yet relatively tornado and, this morning anyway, toad-free) New York things got a little bit bluer as Kathy Hochul tool NY’s 26th District. Poor Chris Lee; if I hadn’t deleted my Facebook page, I’d friend him. I think he needs a Hug from Hooterville or whatever stupid shit they have going on there. I would not poke him, however – no matter how buff he looks w/o a shirt on.

This ought to make Republicans fall all over themselves even faster trying to get away from Paul Ryan’s “kill Medicare” budget plan. Don’t let them try and tell you it’s all the teabagger’s fault, either. Hochul’s numbers actually rose at the teabagger’s (you can see I have no idea what his name is, and it’s not worth looking up) expense.

On the lo-cal news this morning, they’re saying that Hochul closed the gap in the polls after she “attacked” Jane Corwin for her support of the Ryan budget. A rather subtle and interesting spin on it, I think. It’s not that all those old Western NY voters don’t want their Medicare messed with – it was those shameless attacks.

If you’ve ever wondered how much your vote counts, it counts for about 3/10 of one percent. This is based on a local area school budget, which was overwhelmingly turned down by voters last week. The budget included a 5.3% property tax increase – not because the district is living high off the hog; like all the districts around here and around the State, I’m sure, they made budget cuts and laid off those godless teachers, aids, and janitors – thanks to Governor Snotball’s cuts in State Aid so that he’s able to say he didn’t raise taxes (his pals on Wall Street gave him his marching orders).

So, anyhow, the District approved an “austerity” budget that requires no vote, and it “only” raises taxes 5%. Oh, sure, they had to lay off a few more aids and janitors, but I’m sure our Governor thinks it’s worth it.

I wasn’t going to mention this, because I’m not absolutely certain of the timing. But I’m pretty sure, and that’s close enough. Seems the clock in my bathroom stopped at 5:53 on Saturday evening. Yes, a mere 7 minutes before the rapture was scheduled to happen. I’m pretty sure this is what foiled the plan, and now I’m scared to put fresh batteries in the clock, or it may be 7 minutes to Armageddon (which, coincidentally, is the title of my upcoming novel – “Seven Minutes to Armageddon: A Tek Jansen Adventure”). So here’s the deal: send me money (minimum bid applies), and the world stays safe. If I don’t get enough to make it worth my while, the batteries come out (and I’ve got plenty of AA batteries, so this is serious).

As a reward, the top bidder gets the Apocalypse Clock, with a fake certificate of authenticity (just pay a small shipping and handling fee), a fresh set of batteries (or an Amazon gift certificate for the value of a set of batteries, because I’m not sure about shipping a clock and batteries together – I don’t wanna get shipped off to Git’mo in the middle of the night), and a slightly used big blue toilet with a cracked tank. What you do with it from there is up to you.

So, whether you be god-fearing Kristian Kook hoping to bring about the end times, or godless heathen just hoping to hedge your bets by putting this clock safely away in a drawer somewhere with a “don’t put batteries in this clock” sticky note attached to it, it would behoove you to bid on this item.

You know, I bet I could actually get money for this on eBay. Maybe even enough to get a new clock for the bathroom.

It’s an early day for me today. Early in and out (wink-wink, nudge-nudge, say no more). Since I’m out of bed in the middle of the night these days (I really am turning into my dad – in some respects, at least, like getting up early and grunting to get up out of the chair, though I don’t seem to have inherited his intelligence or talent at fixing stuff), it’s not too hard to get there early.

Let’s hope it’s a calm day, weather-wise. Stay safe.

What with the rapture and Apocalypse being a bust, I was rather surprised to find four exhausted but grateful toads (Grateful Toad – good name for a jam band; bet there already is one – if not, I claim copyright) in the skimmer basket. It was my first 4-toad morning (the summer corollary to a three-dog night, perhaps). Then I heard the news on the teevee this morning, and understood. The real end of the world is still on schedule for October. Saturday was just a “spiritual judgment day” according to that Camping dude. He reminds me a bit of the black knight in The Holy Grail. I guess he figures he’ll either get this right eventually or croak (speaking of frogs and toads). I say, why postpone your appointment with the Lord, Harold?

In keeping with todays rock-and-roll theme, I’m happy to report that out in Minneapolis, the kids are alright. And Web, too, which is good to hear. One of the kids is just outside the “exclusion zone,” and it looks like the tornado missed by about two or three blocks of her home. Good news indeed (though it didn’t get her the day off yesterday, which is too bad).

I know you’re all anxious with curiosity, so I’ll let you know that the big blue toilet is history (actually, it’s sitting on my front porch, in true white-trash fashion). It didn’t go down without a fight, though, as I had to sawzall off the bolts (and in true manly fashion, I neglected to wear safety glasses, despite the clear and present danger of flying shards of porcelain; not because I’m brave, but because I was too damn lazy to go down to the basement and root around for a pair). Plus, I think the porcelain managed to soak up 35+ years of piss smell that will no doubt outlast the Apocalypse. Bleh.

Anyhow, the new dual-flush model is in place, and it should be the last toilet I ever buy (rapture or not). At least for that room. I haven’t given it the supreme test as of yet (it looks so nice and shiny and clean, I hate to defile it), so I don’t know if it will require adjustments. The boom-boom flush looks adequate (hard to tell without some actual goodies in there – guess I should’ve picked up a bag of Snickers bars), but I’m slight dubious about the #1. Not that I require much in that regard, but as we all know, girlie flushes need a little extra oomph, what with their wanton use of paper products for every little thing.

Oh well, I need to get to work. I have shit I need to get done by Thursday, or I won’t be able to take Friday off (or even Memorial Day).

Once again, I’m reminded how grateful I am to live where I live. I might not have mentioned this before, but it snows here occasionally. But we don’t typically have earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes or, thankfully, tornadoes. As devastated as Joplin, MO is, I’m afraid it’s Minneapolis we’re most concerned with this morning. Two of the kids live out there, and in the North Minneapolis area. So, as of this moment, we have no idea how things are going. Hopefully they – and Web – are doing OK.

I managed to knock the vast majority of off my weekend list the past two days. Some with more success than others. I even decided to finally install that dual-flush adapter. Now, this wasn’t exactly a difficult thing, but it’s been my experience that anytime you touch plumbing, it’s gonna be a pain in the ass. Everything went well, with the toughest part being trying to figure out which orifice to use for the fill valve (ordinarily figuring out which orifice to use isn’t a problem for me).

Unfortunately, as is typical, the easiest part of the job turned out to be the most difficult, and even though I was trying very hard not to, I managed to break the tank trying to take the flush handle off. It probably hadn’t moved in 35 years, and, well, I guess I didn’t have as good a hold on it as I thought I did. Bummer.

I was pissed for a minute or two, but, hey, this toilet is huge, and blue, and nobody’s gonna miss it. So off we went to Home Depot before it closed last night to buy a new toilet (with a dual flush built in). I figured I’d better wait to get my mind right before I put it in, though.

So if you need a dual-flush adapter, make me an offer.

I didn’t see anybody floating up to heaven yesterday. I did see some airplanes, though, and there was a rainbow in the sky at about 7:00 PM EDT (which would be 6:00 EST, which I’m pretty sure is God’s time zone) even though it hadn’t rained, so I was kind of thinking that was the bridge to heaven. Nobody appeared to be crossing that bridge, though, so maybe it’s just that nobody in my neck of the woods is worthy, though that would seem odd in a town of about 6,300 people and four churches (though I guess you can’t really count the Catholics), as you’d think somebody would make the cut. But, then again, even though we’re a predominately white God-fearing group, we’re also known for being tolerant, “live-and-let-live” types, so I guess that kept everybody out.

I haven’t seen much of anything on the news. No reports of vast swaths of empty neighborhoods, no major earthquakes – hell, even my pool skimmer has been toad, lizard, and locust-free. I at least expected to see some of these Kristians interviewed (if they’re still around), and asked whether their calculations are off, or, more likely, God just didn’t want them. I mean, why would the Almighty want to surround himself with closed-minded sanctimonious pricks? If I was made in His image, then clearly He wouldn’t.

So, I guess it’s a good-news bad-news thing. Good news is no death and destruction (well, no more than usual), bad news is I gotta go back to work tomorrow. Oh, and we’re still stuck with all those self-righteous, sanctimonious hypocrites (who are no doubt poring over their bibles and crunching the numbers to come up with the latest end-of-the-world date).

You’d think God could’ve at least taken Fred Phelps off our hands.

I’m not sure what today’s itinerary is. I’ve heard some conflicting reports, like, the good people are going to heaven, and the rest of us are gonna stay here and live in misery for six months before the world is destroyed. Then again, I heard that there’s gonna be earthquakes and stuff that kill us heathens today. So, whatever it is that happens, it’s been nice knowing you, and it’ll be great to meet you all in person when we get to Hell. I don’t know if we’ll get to see all the people who have come and gone or not, but I hope so. I think Fred is probably already down there giving Satan a hard time.

Hello, God? Lucifer here. Look, will you take this f*cking Fred guy off my hands? All night long, with the shooting the tommy gun…. Oy. Seriously, nobody can get any sleep. Lilith is miserable, and when Lilith isn’t happy, aint nobody happy, know’m sayin’? Look, we’ll trade you straight up for Jerry Falwell, and let me tell you, you’re getting the best part of that deal.

So, anyhow, whoever gets there first, pick out a nice spot in a quiet corner (try and find something in the shade, if you can) and save us some seats. And don’t forget to bring your camera. We can post the pictures up on the web next week.

See ya.