Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Ten Dumbest...

     Have you ever seen one of those cable TV shows where they get lots of videos, etc, then count them down while B C D E F somewhere below the grade scale-list celebrities make jokes about what they are watching?  Have you ever seen those shows, Company?  Well they suck balls.
     First of all, let me throw out some credit for them.  The videos are usually pretty funny, or at least pretty wacky.  Lots of stupid people doing a lot of stupid things.  The one that is playing on the TV behind me is one in which they are counting down the world's ten dumbest tourists.  They have them for just about everything - criminals, sports moments, security guards, whatever.  So you get to see lots of retarded retards doing lots of retarded retard things.  But what usually ruins the show is all the people making the comments.
     None of them are funny.  Lots of them are listed as "comedians" which I fund strange because there is very little comedy coming out of any of them.  They are saying lots of things, and most of them are trying really have (too hard really) to make a funny, but they just aren't hitting the mark.  One time I saw a couple of guys who were always together like some sort of messed up conjoined twins that were recently separated, and they were listed as "humorists" which makes even less sense, because they were lacking in humor and that hasn't been a word since 1867 anyway.  And then of course there is Tanya Harding.  I am not sure what in her experience has qualified her to be on this show - since I assume that most of the "comedians" on the show have at least been paid to tell jokes before a crowd before, although sometimes I am not sure - but there she is.  I would expect her to be on a show about hiring people whack other people in the knee, or a show on figure skating, or a show about being a washed-up never-celebrity, but I don't think she needs to be on there commenting on videos.  If that is the best star power they could drum up I can undertand why it is on truTV at 1:17 a.m.
     I also hate the graphics that I have to watch.  The videos are okay, as I have said before, but they put all these graphics and whatnot in the background that are supposed to be funny and they just aren't.  They are usually stupid and unbelieveably annoying.  And they break up my video watching pleasure with stuff that they are doing on high school television stations all across the Intermountain West.  So those should also go away quickly or I am going to be tempted to throw a brick through the television screen.
     All that being said, even though these shows aren't funny and are a little annoying, they are entertaining.  I mean, I chuckle, and I will watch them over and over with no complaint.  Even if there is a random game on ESPN there is a pretty good chance that I will watch them.  They don't lack entertainment.  They just lack general quality.  Maybe they are just auditioning for and gathering clips for their next show, "The Ten Dumbest Video Commentators."

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Solve for X

    When you were a kid in elementary school, middle school, high school, whatever, you always had to take math class.  And, if you were like me, you were always wondering why.  "How am I going to use this trigonometry in my everyday life?  Why do I need to be able to figure out the sides of a right triangle?  What the hell?  Math is numbers, why do I have to solve for 'x'?  There is no 'x' in real life?"  That is the kind of stuff you would say.  Well, once you become an adult you realize that you use the math all the time, kind of unexpectely though, and you are glad you have it.  And you learn that there are lots of "x"'s in real life.  And I don't mean on your special videos or shows created by Simon Cowell.
     In fact, I found myself solving for 'x' just the other day.  Like, literally I was doing math equations on a scratch piece of paper with a pencil.  I did all sorts of operations until I had 'x' isolated on the left side, it was genius.  Not really.  Here is how it went down.  I was measuring paper, and like any good American I was using inches and feet (well, not feet, it wasn't that big) and was dividing the inches into halves, quarters, and eighths.  Well that is all well and good, except when I went to create a computer document that fit that size paper, the computer doesn't do quarters and halves and eights.  It does things in tenths of inches.  So I was faced with converting 9 3/8 inches into a decimal, and there is no app for that.  Well, I am sure there is an app for that but I don't have an iPhone so it wouldn't have helped me anyway.
     So I did the only thing that I know how to do, I set up a little equation like this:

3 = x
8   10

...and I solved for 'x' to find out that I should enter 9.375 into the computer.  Pretty slick, huh?
    I thought about my eighth grade algebra teacher, who was smoking hot, and who probably would have been proud that I had used some of the stuff she taught me in my regular life.  I did not think about my 12th grade calculus teacher who could write simultaneously with both hands in two different directions (forward and backward) on the chalkboard AT THE SAME TIME because I don't think I have ever used calculus in real life before.  But I digress.  I am sure that all my math teachers and my friends who are math teachers (I am looking in your direction here G-Funk) would be proud that I was able to use advanced math - although simple advanced math - to help get me through life.  I know I was pretty proud of myself.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

If You Please

     S'il vous plait.  That is French, and literally translated it means "if you please."  It is how we are all taught to say please in that language until like you go there and one of your French friends teaches you a much cooler, more modern, and less official way of saying it.  And it is also something that I have come into a bad habit of not saying enough.
     I noticed this problem in the car while my Baby Doll and I were traveling.  I was driving, at many miles per hour (that's many kilometers per hour for our foreign friends) and she was riding, but was nice enough to grab my drink out of the back, fetch me a piece of gum from her purse, etc.  And I said thank you every time - like a good boy - but I was struck by the fact that I wasn't asking please like I should be.  I wasn't demanding, I was asking politely, but not politely enough because I wasn't saying please.
     Which is sort of stupid because when we are kids the favorite game that grown ups have is making us say please whenever we ask for something.  "Can I have a drink of you soda?"  To which the adult always responds "What do you say?" and then they have to say "please."  It is like some sort of sick adult pleasure that we get in making these kids bend to our will, and as a bonus we get to cloak it in the guise of teaching them to say please.  But it obviously doesn't work, because by the time they are teenagers they are just demanding things and taking what they want anyway, and by the time they are grown up media moguls they are just forgetting to say it anyway.
     So...like so many things in my life I am going to make a conscious and concerted effort to go ahead and throw it in there, even if it makes me seem overly polite and a little bit off kilter.  It should be a good fit because I am a little bit off kilter.  But at least I will be polite, and that has to count for something, right?  My mom should be proud at least.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

My Stuff

     So a while back we had a rummage sale, and I was wondering about if my stuff was any good, because it just wasn't selling like I wanted it too.  No big deal.  I ended up taking a bunch of shit down to the friendly local Goodwill store in order to get it out of my garage.  So earlier today, Baby Doll and I decided to go into the Goodwill to look and see if any of our stuff was on the shelf.
      Okay, I am not sure if that is why she was there but I was there to do that.  So I went in and started cruising around, specifically looking for the items that I knew I had donated.  And I struck out.  There was not a single thing that I knew I donated that I could find.  And I will admit that I was a little bit miffed.  The fact that there was nothing of mine could only mean three things:

1.)  My shit sucks.  My things aren't good enough to be put out on the shelves, so as they went around and sorted things they decided that they would do what I couldn't, namely toss it in the garbage bin.  And that makes me sad, because I think that all my stuff would make a wonderful contribution to someone's happy home.  Who are those a-holes at Goodwill to judge my things anyway?  They had  a  Hi-Fi for sale in the corner.

A.)  My shit is super popular.  This is a highly likely scenario.  First of all, I am super popular and my things would naturally be highly desirable.  Also they are all super cool.  So I imagine that once they went out on the shelves they flew off like hotcakes.  I am sure there was a line - land rush style.  So I assume that they are just all gone.

iii.)  My shit is waiting to go out on the shelves.  Maybe there are a ton of donations to Goodwill and they just don't have the space to put out my awesome, desirable things.  So they are tucked away somewhere safely in back waiting for the scenario above to play out.  That is a slightly lesser probability than number A.) but it is still possible.

     So those are the ideas that I had as to what might have happened to my things at Goodwill.  That is all that could be possible.  But none of it was out there for people to see, so I just don't know.  And I probably never will.  And that is sad.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Heavyweight Paper

     Here is a little public service tip for you, Company, from Big Dave himself:  Paper is fucking heavy.      No, I mean it.  It is fucking heavy.  You wouldn't realize it by looking at a piece of paper, but it really is.  Think about this: all those kids walking around with thirty pound backpacks who are ruining their backs at a young age aren't carrying around bricks or little midgets.  They are carrying around textbooks and notebooks and Trapper Keepers (do kids these days even use those anymore?  They were the shit when I was in elementary school) and that kind of stuff.  And all books are is a bunch of papers bound together and covered with heavier paper, right?
You don't want to get into a situation
like he always does.

     I realized this this morning as I picked up my backpack to go to work.  I have spent enough of my life either biking or walking to work that I have become accustomed to carrying a backpack to work to hold my keys, wallet, phone, lunch, etc.  It is sort of serves the purpose of a purse, but I don't want to carry a purse because I am a dude and that would be lame for me.  I would be in some sort of Seinfeld-esque situation and I just don't want that.  So I carry a backpack.  Over time, there has come to be some other things in my backpack - like whatever book I am currently reading, some pens, a knife, just random bits of stuff, and a folder for shuttling papers back and forth.
The most dangerous thing in the
history of ever

      Here is the kicker - that stuff is always with me.  So I am sort of accustomed to and aware of how much my backpack generally weighs.  But lately I have had some things going on that has necessitated me hauling around a big file of papers that I don't normally carry, and when I lifted my backpack out of the car this morning it felt like it weighed twice what it normally does.  So I thought about what could have led to that difference and the only thing I could think of that was in there beyond what was normally in there was that file.  How nuts is that?  I mean, I suppose that I could have become a super pansy over the last couple of weeks - a person that Hans and Franz from Saturday Night Live would spit at in disgust - but I don't think that has happened.  I think that file is just heavier than a carnie's girlfriend.
     So watch out and be careful.  I know that is looks pretty when you are watching a piece of paper flutter down from the top of a six story building or whatever, but that shit is dangerous.  First of all they are sharp on the edges and can give you nasty paper cuts.  Secondly, once they start to gang up together they are dangerous, and can bury you under a pile from which you can never escape.  Paper is heavyweight indeed.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Random Questions

Here are some random thoughts that have popped up in my head throughout the day...

If you had a private workout room with a private shower, etc...why would you feel the need to wear sandals into the shower?

How can one be bored in Amsterdam?  Especially if you are well-to-do?

Don't you think you would realize that half your ass was sticking out if half your ass was sticking out?

How is it that in the cracker world Goldfish are bigger than Whales?

Yahoo! has been sucking lately, so why is it that I continue to use it to look stuff up all the time?  What is up with that?

How come I had never heard of sponge candy until like six months ago?  Especially when my dad loves the stuff?  How did I miss out on all that shit?

Why is it that Kraft Mac and Cheese costs $1.65 in a box at the store but $7.00 on the kids menu on a friendly, local restaurant?  Talk about markup.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Seven Minute Blog

    I set the times on my stove for seven minutes, because otherwise I would be standing there lording over my oriental rice with carrot, peas, and corn in it while it cooked.  I figured that it was also a good timer for me to write a blog on a day that I was having trouble coming up with anything else to write about.  So what you are going to get is a seven minute timed blog about whatever is in my mind or crossing my attention and eyeshot while I am writing this.  How do you feel about that?
     Actually, to be brutally honest, I don't care what you think.  Let me tell you something funny that happened today on the FB: My BabyDoll put on her FB page that she had run 40 miles so far this month (AWESOME!) and one of her friends responded that "I had the runs 40 times this month" which she and I both thought was the funniest thing in the history of the world.  Don't you agree?  Sometimes I feel jealous when someone else comes up with a super classic, awesome one-liner that I didn't come up with.  I feel jealous that I couldn't do it and I wish very much that it was mine.  I am not, however, so proud that I would steal it and take credit for someone else's work.   Not because I am such a scrupulous person, but because I would be royally pissed if someone did that to me I would spend the next six years bitching to anyone and everyone who had heard it that I was the one who originally came up with it.  So I am not going to take credit for someone else's work.
      What I will do is admit that I am going to spend the next sixteen days or so trying really hard to make the next awesome one liner, and since I am going to be trying WAY to hard, I am going to come up with a lot of lame things.  But more on that some other time; my timer just rang.  And that is what you get with seven minutes of time.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The Juggling Act

    Picture me, standing in a totally dark room with a dirt or wood floor, standing in a spotlight pointed down from above, dressed in a festive white clown outfit with red, blue, and yellow polka dots on it.  I am wearing a red hat with a poofy yellow tassle on the top, gigantic red shoes, and I am in full happy clown face makeup.  I am juggling three bowling pins or chainsaws or flaming Pintos or something else.  That is how I am picturing myself because I am going to be juggling this weekend.
    Let's start with the big reason: my parents are in town.  Doesn't sound so bad, does it?  It is not, except that my parents are divorced and they are very rarely in town at the same time.  Let me offer a little back story.  I live in an area where there are a lot of tourists; where people come to spend weekends or weeks in the summer at resorts and cottages on lakes.  My parents are divorced, and my Mom is dating someone who has a cabin on one side of town, and my Dad has friends who have a cabin on the other side of town that they allow him to use.  Sounds good.  They come up a couple of times a summer each, but it just doesn't happen on the same weekend.
I am going to be going all these directions at once.
      Now I know that I should stop complaining, because I am always bitching about how my parents don't come to visit me enough, and now they are here and I am complaining.  But I live like 250 miles from my parents' and so I want to have enough time to spend with both of them.  But we can't do it at the same time because as a general rule they don't get together and hang out.  They are cordial when they are together, but they don't do it just for shits and giggles.  So I am going to have to find equal time for both of them, sort of like they are political parties and I am a television or radio station.
      Let's complicate things a little bit.  My Baby Doll also wants us to go see her friend who is in the hospital.  This is no big deal, and I really don't mind.  The only problem is that the hospital is like 90 miles away.  So figure in the three hours worth of driving (round trip), plus an hour or two of visiting, plus a little shopping and/or some dinner, and there goes a half a day.  So three people in the course of the weekend.  Like I said, I feel like I am juggling.
      But that is life.  We will get all three done and I will be able to see everyone that I want to see.  That is just how things go sometimes.  Besides, there are worst ways to spend the weekend than visiting with friends and family.  It will just be busy, with a lot of running around.  No big deal.  Just so long as one of those flaming Pintos doesn't drop.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Kate + 8: The Open Timeslot

Apparently Kate + 8 has been cancelled by TLC (The Learning Channel, as if Kate and her brood had anything to do with learning anything), and I guess that my response to that is that I am shocked that it is even still on.
     I mean, let's face it, that show sucked smelly ballsack from the moment that it went on the air, and if it weren't for the eight relatively cute kids and the clearly overmatched parents whose complete contempt for one another was routinely being brought out by having to raise so many children at one time, there would never have been a reason to watch the show. And once dysfunction junction split up and Kate became a pseudo-celebrity for like twelve minutes, I am sure it got really stupid. There is nothing like watching someone raise their kids only because they are contractually obligated to do so.
     “Won’t someone please think of the children!” That is what Helen Lovejoy is always screaming on The Simpsons, and I think it applies to this situation very well. Has anyone considered what this whole escapade – or carnival midway show – or whatever you want to call it – is doing to those poor kids? Let’s tally up the traumatic, life-screwing up events that those kids have had to go through. 1.) Divorce. 2.) Growing up on television 3.) Being left with a nanny for long periods of time while Mom is out screwing around in L.A. Yeah, each one of those things will land a person on a therapist’s couch by their own right, or at least on Celebrity Rehab talking to Dr. Drew and his cohorts. All three of them together will land a guy more likely on Cops or MSNBC as they take out pedestrians with a rifle from on top of a water tower or something.
     So I would suspect that the children were always lost in the shuffle in this whole Kate + 8 business, and that turning the camera off and having some quiet time alone with Mom without a producer or director giving out orders will probably be a good thing for them. I mean, it certainly can’t hurt. And it can’t hurt us either, to be rid of a terrible show that was neat for like six seconds before it just got sad and stupid and annoying. Plus, it creates an open time slot on the network for whatever non-learning television show they choose to put on there next. And I am sure it will be just as bad.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Setting Up the Tent

      So Company, have you ever had one of those moments when you just know something is going to happen as a result of you actions, but you do them anyway and then it happens and you're pissed?  Kind of like a Murphy's Law sort of thing?  Well it happened to me today and it just sort of made me want to throw a brick at the next person that walked by on the street.
     We went camping this last weekend, and since I am always tenting anyway we went camping in a tent.  But don't worry, we didn't have to sleep on the ground or anything like I used to do back in the day - we were very much car camping just with a tent.  So there were air mattresses, a distressing number of sleeping bags, and all sorts of stuff that makes it really quite pleasant.  So anyway, fast forward to Sunday night and I am unpacking, and it is time to set up the tent.  I always like to set my tent up before (didn't do it this time) and after we go camping, to clean it and let it air out and whatnot.  When I set it up I could see that the grass hadn't been mowed for some time, and I thought "As soon as I set this damn thing up, he is going to come and cut the grass tomorrow."  But I put it up anyway because the weather was supposed to be nice and the grass cutting guy always comes on the weekend.
I might as well have set up the fucking thing like this.
     Nope.  Not this time.  I came home from work and the guy had very carefully cut all the way around the tent and even the stakes.  Oh yeah.  And I am sure that he was pissed off because he is lazy and likes to ride around on a riding lawn mower, and I am sure that my temporary canvas domicile put a crimp in those plans.  But I give him some credit, because I would have just mowed the damn thing down.  Scratch that.  I talk a big game but I wouldn't have done that.  I would have probably just mowed all around it and come back when it was down.
      But regardless of what he decided, I was still a little pissed off at fate or whatever else caused those events to unfold in that manner.  I mean, what the fuck's with that shit?  All I wanted to do was set up my tent, now I am the asshole who got in the way of lawn mowing day.  Come tomorrow when I take it down, I am going to have a big patch of long-ass grass right in the middle of my backyard, like I routinely take a dump there or something and the grass grows extra long.  It is going to look absolutely retarded back there, where lots of people in the neighborhood can see, and everyone is going to wonder what the hell that is all about.  All because fate had to reach down and bitch slap me for no reason whatsoever.  Thanks fate.  Thanks Murphy's Law.  Thanks for making me look like an ass.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

An Open Letter to the Ginger Kid in Our Campground

Dear Ginger Kid in Our Campground,

     You fucking suck, okay?  I hate you.  First off, I don't like how you stare into my campsite every time that you ride by on your bike.  Secondly, your bike is fucking stupid.  And it is a piece of crap.  Third, you should learn to ride it straight and not weave back and forth like you are an F1 driver or something.  You aren't warming your tires because you are on a shitty bicycle and you are riding on gravel.
      In fact, the only thing that brings me emotional turmoil is whether I would rather hit you in the head with a ball bearing and slingshot, or if I would rather have a crossbow to shoot an arrow through your tire and make you go ass over teakettle onto the road.  Both would be hilarious but I think I am leaning towards the later.
     Of course you'd cry.  You cried when you wiped out on the first night, like a little pansy bitch.  I don't care if you are only ten years old, you still cried like a little fucking ginger bitch.  Oh yeah, that is right, you are ginger and you are a freak.  I forgot to mention that to you.  You are not a freak because you are ginger, you are a freak because you are you.  I have nothing against ginger people.
     I do however have some things against you, including but not limited to the fact that you are ugly.  Like, should have shoved you back into the womb to finish cooking ugly.  You ride around the campground time after time after time getting into everyone's way and staring into my campground and breaking mirror after mirror, all because you are a useless sack of shit.  I want you to have catastrophic break failure and careen down the gently sloping campsite over the cliff, down the stairs and into the lake.
     I also sort of want to hit you with my car, or to see you be hit by someone else's car while I watch and eat popcorn.  That would make my day.  I packed up and left and you and your stupid family remained at the campsite, which sort of chapped my ass because I really wanted to watch you pack up and get drug back to your shitty, dumbass life in whatever plastic neighborhood you crawled out of.  Back with you parents.  By the way, your father is fucking his secretary at work and your parents are probably going to get divorced.  Then you will have to go into a home, and I hope the other kids there kick your ass.  Or maybe just I will.  Or I will just throw your bike into the lake.  You suck at life.

Yours,

Big Dave

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Ten Cars I Would Gladly Drive Every Day

     While making admissions the other day, I admitted that I have a thing for crappy old cars.  And for a lot of cars that just sort of were.  So without further comment, here are ten cars that I wouldn't be unhappy about driving on a daily basis.  In fact, I sort of lust after driving the things.

1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais


1991 Toyota Corolla


1992 Dodge Spirit


1985 Buick Skyhawk


1985 Dodge Omni


1991 Ford Tempo.  Coincidentally, this was the first car I ever drove.  Not this exact one, but it was a royal blue 1991 Ford Tempo GL.


1994 Pontiac Grand Am.  I wouldn't even mind it with a 4-banger in it.


1997 Saturn SW1.  I had one of these, except it was ruby red.  Guy H named it the "DkyeWagon."


1998 Plymouth Breeze


2002 Chevy Prizm

Thursday, August 11, 2011

I've Got A New Shirt On

     Editor's Note: I wrote this post during my Internet-less time while I was wearing a brand new shirt.  Read on.

     There is just something about a new shirt that is really, really neat. It can be closely approximated by the feeling of a new sweatshirt, and it is always beaten hands down by the feeling and smell of a new car, but it is still pretty neat.

     A lot of people don’t like the new shirt feeling, and I guess that I don’t understand. Well, I do, but I don’t agree. How is that for something closer to the truth? It is a cleanliness and more so a softness thing. New shirts can be a little stiff in the fabric, and sometimes they can chafe a little bit on the more sensitive areas of a body. That I think is why most people aren’t into the whole new shirt thing. That and the cleanliness factor. A lot of people won’t wear a new article of clothing until it is washed because they don’t know where it has been and who has touched it and what it has been treated with. Yeah, like running your new t-shirt through the short cycle with some Gain is going to leech out all those dyes, chemicals, and additives they put in those things these days.
     But I love it. There is something about the smell and the feel and the just newness of the whole thing that I love. Something about unadulterated fabric – before the washing and drying have their way with the fibers – when they are still alive in their natural state – that just can’t be beat. I love a t-shirt in the way that they were manufactured to be. It is just so new and fresh and I love it.
     I think that if I had it my way – and I never will – I would have nothing but half brand new shirts and half really comfortable worn favorite shirts, which would be difficult at best because you have to wear shirts a long time before they get there and they would have to go right through that stage that I am trying to avoid. But I digress, I will never live that impossible dream. It is nice to think about. As for me, I am going to enjoy wearing the band new, out of the package shirt that I am wearing tonight, and I might wear it for a little while tomorrow to before I go out in the community. Just because it might not happen again for a while and I like it. A new shirt. It’s wonderful.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

25 Answers to Questions

So, the other day, in bestowing an award upon me, Barsola said that I had once written a post about one of her posts and she was honored by that.  So when I saw the wrote a post with a bunch of questions, I thought I would do it again and go ahead and answer them.  With hilarious answers.  So here goes, with her original questions in bold so you don't have keep flipping back and forth all the damn time:

1.)  Do you have any pets?  Yes, I call them the Unpaid Interns and they suck like a street-corner whore.

2.)  Name three things that are physically close to you: The couch, my computer, and a million billion atoms of oxygen and nitrogen.


3.)  What is the weather like right now?  I don't fucking know.  The window is way across the room.  You have a computer, why don't you go find out for yourself there, Indiana Jones.

4.)  Do you drive?  If so have you crashed?  Fuck yes.  I drive all the time and I crash into everything because I am cheap and won't get my brakes fixed so now I have to run into things to stop like I am Fletch or something.

5.)  What time did you wake up this morning?  6:45, 6:54, and 7:03.  Then again once I had some coffee around 9:00.


6.)  When was the last time you showered?  What the hell kind of question is this?  Is this like you wanting to watch me in the shower but being too lazy to come peep in the window?  For your information it was this morning.  Or maybe it wasn't.  You will never know because you won't come watch me shower.

7.)  What was the last movie you saw?  I was driving down the freeway the other day, and I drove next to this SUV for like 70 miles and they were watching Wet, Hot, American Summer on those little screens that everyone has in their cars since they don't want to have to talk to their children anymore.

8.)  What does your last text message say?  Sorry, you're gonna need a warrant to get a hold of that one.  B-yatch.

9.)  What is the last book you read?  Read, or am currently reading?  It says read, so the last book I read was called The Trouble With Tom by Tom Collins.  Sorry, Paul Collins.  I am very drunk on Tom Collins's right now.

10.)  Have you ever been to a different country?  Yes.  Next question.


11.)  Do you like sushi?  I don't, but I have never had it.  I don't like sushi because I think it is always mocking me with its being wrapped in seaweed and its being uncooked, although I think all the Tom Collins's has a little something to do with those feelings.

12.)  Where do you buy your groceries?  I don't buy groceries.  I get all my sustinance by stealing the lunches of the Unpaid Interns and other people who are waiting at the friendly local bus stop.  Also, the Tom Collins's.

13.)  Have you ever taken medication to help you fall asleep faster?  Hell yeah.  Tom Collins's.  Also sleepy time pills.  But usually a half hour or so of the Lifetime network does the trick.

14.)  How many siblings do you have?  One.

15.)  Do you have a desktop computer or a laptop?  I have two laptops: one Mac and one IBM, because I am down with the swirl.


16.)  Where do you live?  In an apartment like many other Americans.  In England it would be called a "flat," except that it is half a duplex, so it probably wouldn't be.

17.)  Do you wear contacts or glasses?  Yes to both.  I wear reading glasses even though I don't need them because glasses are super cool, so then I have to wear contacts to counteract the reading glasses.  I don't just wear glasses with non-prescription lenses because that is what you would want me to do.  And I am too cool to do that.

18.)  Do you color your hair?  Nope, because most of it has long since retired and moved south.  I do, however, sometimes take a Crayola marker to my bald head though.

19.)  Tell me something that you are planning to do today.  That is not a question, that is a command.  Regardless, I am going to tell you that I am going to go to sleep eventually, which still counts as something to do.

20.)  When was the last time you cried?  I am desperately wanting to cry right now, because this whole contact lens/glasses routine has made my contacts really, really dry.  Also, I am out of Tom Collins mix.  Oh, and I have just realized that I am still five questions away from being done and I am hitting the wall.

21.)  What is your perfect pizza topping?  Ham, pineapple, onion and tomato.  And it's extra good because you don't like it.

22.)  Which do you prefer - hamburgers or cheeseburgers?  Cheeseburgers because they are just better and at least they have what is on them in their name.  How much ham is in the average hamburger?

23.)  Have you ever had an all-nighter?  Lots of times.  I have had them both for fun and for work.  The fun ones are usually a lot better.  I have also never done one for school.  In fact, I think that I only cracked a book to study maybe one time all my days in college, and now I am a media mogul.  So suck it CalTech.

24.)  What is your eye color?  Well, I can't see my own eyes and in every photo ever taken of me they are red.  So red I guess.

25.)  Can you taste the difference between Pepsi and Coke?  Yes, yes I can.  And given the choice I will choose "Cola: brand Cola every time.  Coke comes second to that.

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Blog on Fire

     Company, please keep in mind two things as you get ready to read today's post:
1.) I have been without Internet at the Worldwide Headquarters for a little while lately so I am a little behind on my snooping, stalking, and general keeping tabs on things
2.) I have been pining since the inception of Big Dave and Company for any sort of indication that I am good enough, smart enough, or that gosh darn it people like me; which is why I am constantly complaining that I am never a Blog of Note or that I can never win my own award.
     That being said I have finally won an award, our first ever.  Yeah, take that blogosphere.  I can now stop saying that I write an "almost award-winning blog" and start telling people that I am the grand master media mogul of "an award-winning blog."  Feels good.  It feels real good.  In fact, I might get that printed up on some business cards. "Big Dave and Company: An Award-Winning Blog.  Boo-yah!"  You have to put the "Boo-yah!" in there so people know exactly where you are coming from.
       Anyway, I suppose that it would be only appropriate to tell you what award I won.  It is called the Blog on Fire Award and I don't know if it is signified by the graphic depicted below, but the people who passed it on to me did so and I am going to follow suit.
Douse me with fire-retardent foam!
Yeah, how cool is that?  This award was passed on to me much like a chain letter from Barsola over at Life: An Observation and like everything in my life it comes with some strings attached should I choose to accept it, which I do because, as we discussed before, I crave approval in ways that cannot be measured by modern measuring techniques.  The conditions are that I have to a.) thank the blogger who passed this on to me; b.) reveal five things about yourself, and they should be somewhat hot because of the fire thing; and c.) pass the award on to seven other bloggers.  Okay, I can handle this, except that everyone is doing this in some sort of list form, so I am going to break to mold and do it with a series of almost-gramatically correct paragraphs.
     I would like to give all my thanks and a little more to Barsola, who writes a very well-written, always interesting, and super intelligent blog called Life: An Observation.  I have known Barsola since high school, I have to admit that she is pretty freaking cool.  I am going to admit that sometimes I just don't care about what she is writing about, but it is always done very well and in a very entertaining way. And she has a way that always makes me want to comment, which says a lot.  I guess that all those things and many more are why she was en fuego long before she ever got to 100 posts, while it took me well over 1,000, but I am not bitter.  Okay, I am a little bitter, but not at her.  She really does a wonderful job and deserves whatever awards come her way.  Keep up the great work, Barsola, you are the best!
     You want to know five things about myself, and they are supposed to be a little saucy.  Luckily for me as a media mogul whose empire stretches across four different types of media (if you count e-mail and yelling things on the street corner types of media - which I do) just ebout everything I do is saucy in some way, especially for those TMZ paparazzi types.  So get ready for five admissions.  First of all, I am a road sign geek.  Yep, that is my vice, and I know that it makes me a super dorky nerd but it is true.  My dream job as always been and will probably always be to be the guy who decides what road signs go where and what they say.  Go ahead, beat me up and tape me to a wrestling mat, it's okay.  I know I am going to get beat up by the cool kids.  I look at pictures of road signs on the Internet, I weigh in on important road sign issues in online forums, and I even take pictures of friendly local road signs so that other nerdy people like myself can look at what I see.  Yep, pretty lame, I know.
     Secondly, I am a little OCD like a lot of people.  I actually watched something on the news the other day about some teenage girls who really and truly have Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder in a way that adversely affects their lives, and the one girl said she hates it when people say they are a little OCD because they have no idea what it is like.  Well, I would like to say that I know a little more than the average Tom, Dick, or Harry.  I used to work in a job that involved moving rolls of coin from one bin to another, and I would always put them in the exact same spots in the new bin as they had been in the old.  I have gone back into my locked house multiple times even after I had pulled out of the driveway in the car because I had to make sure that the stove was turned off.  And you don't want to have to see me fill out paperwork because I will do it over and over again until there are no mistakes.
     Third, I have a strange fetish for cars that sucked balls.  I love the blog called Car Lust and I will be passing them this award in a little bit.  I love the shitty cars from the 70s, 80s, and 90s and would buy a 1987 Ford Tempo with a 5-speed if there was one available somewhere that hadn't been put into a crusher.  1992 Dodge Spirit?  I'd buy that too if I had the cash.  Same with a 15-passenger van.  I've got a thing for those too and I don't know why, and no it doesn't make me a creeper because they have windows and I don't hang around the elementary school.
     My fourth admission is that I put shockingly little effort into the Big Dave and Company Podcast, which is available here or at iTunes free of charge to anyone who wants to listen, hint, hint.  It is also available at left. My Technical and Executive Producer Mike-a-licious by far has the most work between the two of us.  All I have to do is show up, talk, and then post some stuff about the episode online.  He has to listen to it a bunch of times and make me sound good, in addition to being on the air.  If anyone gets an award for the thing it should be him, but being the media mogul prick that I am I will definitely step in and take all the credit somehow.
      Lastly, I hate socks.  HATE THEM!  And I am not crazy about shoes, either.  I do my best to wear sandals from the time the snowmelt puddles are gone until it starts snowing again.  I even sneak them onto my feet when I am work.  I would prefer to go barefoot everywhere like in the days of yore, but that is not socially acceptable and plus the soles of my feet aren't really tough enough for that business.  So I put on my Jesus Cruisers as some of my friends like to call them and off I go. Until I am forced by law or nature to put on shoes and socks.
   So now comes the part where I have to pass this on to 1-2-3-4-5-6-7...HOLY SHIT SEVEN different blogs.  I am not sure that I even know that many that still bother to write.  And I suppose I can't give one back to the person who gave it to me.  Okay, so here goes then, seven shockingly short paragraphs, which are really more like declarative statements.  So I guess they are sentences.  Okay, scratch that.  One paragraph made up of seven declarative sentences with no trasition between them.  That sounds more like it.
     Old Parked Cars is a blog in which some guys in the Pacific Northwest go around taking very artsy photographs of parked cars that predate 1990 or so.  We already talked about Car LustThat is Priceless takes all sorts of paintings and gives them hilarious new titles.  Bloggerated is from friend of everything Brad in Nashville, and talks about his life in Nashville.  Grilled Cheese Social features a new grilled cheese sandwich recipe with every post.  We must not forget Enter the Man Cave, which features lots of movie and sports and music related stuff.  Big Storm Picture is a blog that features amazing nature photography of a man who travels around the midwest chasing tornadoes. 
     So those are my seven that I am going to forward this award on to.  I seriously doubt that most of them will pass this along, but I just don't care.  There are a couple that will though I think.  But anyway those are my seven, and now my obligation to the Blog on Fire award is over, and I can officially begin basking in the award-winningness that is me.  Let the basking begin...now!
    

Monday, August 08, 2011

Internet Withdrawl

    Well Company, I know that our service has been a little bit...how do we say...spotty lately, to say the least, and most of that stems from a loss of Internet at the Worldwide Headquarters for the last ten days or so.  I am not exactly sure why there has been no Internet service there - I am sure that one of the Unpaid Interns or poorly paid secretaries was working on it - but it was gone, which makes it exceedingly difficult to be part of an Internet based business venture.  So that is why there was such poor service on the blog as of late.
      That being said, I have been going a little crazy because of it.  Just a little.  I can hear all you old skids out there huffing and puffing and getting all up in arms, saying things like "We lived without the Internet for years and we were just fine.  You don't need it."  And I understand that, because I too lived in an Internet-less world for many years.  I was just getting out of high school when the Internet became mainstream and the computers to access it became reasonably affordable.  So I remember what it was like when there wasn't up to the minute everything, and when most places you got information were easily identifiable as trustworthy.  So settle down.
     The reason that I have been going a little stir crazy is because I am just not used to that Internet-free world anymore.  It is not like I can't survive in that arena - I am obviously here and my bills are all paid - but I have become awfully accustomed to having any bit of information at my beck and call.  So if I want to know the lyrics to a certain song that is playing on a commercial, I can look at it right then.  If I want to check the radar before I go out to float down the river on a floaty tube, I could do it.  If I wanted to look at dirty pictures of celebrtities, then I could.  And all that was taken away the last ten days or so.  And I just missed it.
     So maybe I am hooked, I don't know.  But if I was I kicked the habit the last ten days, because by yesterday I was back to getting my weather from the TV or the window, my celebrity gossip from whomever I was talking to, and my dirty pictures from my mind.  There was no tweeting or Facebook or electronic mail orany of that stuff, and I was just fine with it.  But the first few days it was supremely annoying.  Sort of just like the Internet can be.  Now isn't that strange.

Wednesday, August 03, 2011

New Fair Food

Yesterday I wrote about my fabulous vacation in northern Wisconsin and the super cool house we stayed in.  While I was there I picked up some literature about some of the new foods that they will be featuring at the upcoming Wisconsin State Fair.  So, without further adieu, here is what reads like Wisconsin's recipe for heart disease, with the vendor that is creating it in italics afterward:

- Country Fried Bacon on a Stick with Country Gravy; Firehouse

- Deep Fried Bacon wrapped Hot Dog on a Stick; Apollo Gyros

- The Elvis (peanut butter cup in deep fried banana batter on a stick); Lakefront Brew Pub & Eatery

- Bacon Sundae (vanilla ice cream with maple syrup and bacon bits topping); Cedar Crest Ice Cream

- Bacon wrapped hot dog with caramelized onions and tomatoes; Madison SportService

- Beer chip platter; Miller Lite Sports Bar & Grill

- Buffalo Chicken Mac N' Cheese; Madison SportService

- Chocolate Covered Fritos; Ultimate Confections

-  Deep Fried Beer; Budweiser Music Pavillion

-  Deep Fried Butter; The Machine Shed Restaurant

-  Deep Fried Pork Rinds in various flavors; Tiki Tapas

-  French Fried Frito Pie; Pitche's/Miss Katie's Diner

-  Fried Mashed Potatoes; The Machine Shed Restaurant

-  Hog Logs (wonton skins stuffed with BBQ Pork and Cheddar Cheese, deep fried); Saz's Miller High Life Pavilion and Saz's Ribs

-  Italian Nachos; Madison SportService

-  Mac Burger (bacon and deep fried Mac & Cheese); Miller Lite Sports Bar & Grill

-  Meatloaf "Sundae"; Madison SportService

-  Poutine (French fries topped with gravy and cheese curds); Madison SportService

Enjoy!  The defribulator is in the central medial tent near the animal barns.  Have a happy State Fair, Wisconsin!

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Back to the Future of Housing

     So Company you may have noticed that I have been strangely silent for the last few days.  And I am sure that you have enjoyed the break.  The reason for the silence is that I have been on vacation.  That is right, a long weekend vacation.  Baby Doll and I packed up the corporate jet and blasted off to the woods of northern Wisconsin for the weekend and stayed on a space ship.  That's right, we spent the weekend here.
     I have put a picture here for you just in case you are unwilling to click on the link.  The owners call it "The Pod" but its given name is Futuro.  It was designed by a Finnish guy in the 60s, and it shows.  Matti Suuronen designed the house for a Finnish doctor in 1965 as a ski cabin and before all was said and done it was being manufactured around the world, from Finland to South Africa to the United States.  There are about 100 still floating around worldwide, and there is a somewhat dedicated owners group.  And be dedicated owner's group I mean one guy who has a raging, mega-hard boner for them.  They are entirely self contained (sort of), and they offer all the amenities that one would want in a ski cabin sort of environment.  There is a three-burner electric stove with a broiler/oven/rotisserie combination thing attached, a dorm sized fridge, a dorm sized freezer, central heating and air conditioning, and a centrally located gas fireplace.  Also included is a full-sized bathroom with stand up shower, and a teeny tiny little bedroom with a teeny tiny pie-shaped bed.
     It is, however, not as small as I thought it would be.  I was thinking cruise ship sized bathroom, but it was full sized and featured plenty of space.  The bedroom was really little but it would be comfortable for one person.  All you do there is sleep there anyway.  The living room, however, is gigantic.  There is a huge wrap around couch with these giant ottoman sort of things that you can use to turn it into a giant bed.  I would totally live there if I were a bachelor living all by my lonesome.  There is lots of room to entertain, even if it would be a little bit of a chore.
Couldn't you see Shatner trying to get
some tail in this living room?
     I am not going to lie, the interior design is a little bit dated.  It was considered to be futuristic at the time it was developed, and it would be considered retro by today's standards, but it screams 60s when you look at it.  When I saw the first pictures of the interior I thought to myself "I bet that's what William Shatner's living room looks like" (turns out he has a log home type deal) but I bet that what it looked like back in the 60s.  It's cool, and it turns out to be remarkably cosy.
     There are lots of little quirks, too.  Like the coolest entry in the history of ever.  The door opens and lowers down to show a set of steps, and it does it automatically and electronically with the push of a button.  The owners of the one we stayed in had installed a screen door at the top of the steps which created a sort of vestibule area, which was nice because the windows don't open.  That is a bad quirk.  There are lots of windows in the Futuro but they are all oval shaped and they don't open.  I understand that they were designed to be ski cabins but airflow in them is zero, or at least it would be without that nifty screen door attached.
Tourism bureau beautiful pic of the lake.
     So that is where we were, and that is what we were doing during the silence.  The good news is that you don't have to go to northern Wisconsin in order to see a Futuro for yourself; they are kind of just randomly peppered around the world.  There is one in central Illinois somewhere; Pensacola, Florida; Sweden; Finland; New Zealand; South Africa, they are all over the place.  You just have to look around for a while.  But the northern Wisconsin one is on a lake and it is for rent and to be honest, we had the most wonderful time there.  So check it out.  You can live in the version of the future from the past, if that makes sense.