Helen, you little hussy

I'm seriously considering purchasing The Fall of Troy's newest album In the Unlikely Event. I'm even thinking of getting the real CD (not just crappy mp3's --with all their digital clipping and other such limitations the average peon's ears can't detect but are there nonetheless tainting the music like the space between). Then I can lick the plastic at night before I go to sleep.

109

So now I'm 1 billion seconds old. (Probably more than a billion by the time you read this.) If only I had 1¢ for each of those seconds.

1 billion seems like a lot. That's because it is. And chances are, you've been around for more seconds than I have. Ha!

Thanks

Thanks to you for giving me presents for Christmas. My favorite thing is what you gave me. I really appreciate it.

Please note that there are still a few things not crossed off my list, and since new year's is right around a corner, there are plenty of great things you can still get me as a new year's day present.

It would totally suck if I didn't get all I asked for, especially since I was so good this year, and I fed all of you on Christmas day, or on Logan's birthday party, or at Bob's since I made the mac and cheese this year.

Speaking of sucky things, the Thrashers are totally crappy. Not really a newsflash since they have always been below average. At least they've won more games than the Detroit Cry-ins.

I'm mildly disappointed that the Patriots lost the tiebreaker against the Dolphins. Both teams are 11-5, both are 4-2 in the AFC east, and both are 10-3 against similar opponents, but one of the Pats' losses was against the Chargers whereas the Dolphins lost to the Chiefs - meaning the Dolphins were 8-4 against the AFC while the Pats were 7-5. Oh well. I'll always have that 18-1 season to fondly remember...

S.I.T.
(text for "Suck It Trebek")

Gobbledy Gobble (Turkey for "What up suckas!")

Hey there,

It's thanksgiving time again. A time for Thanks, but more importantly, a time for giving. Giving to me. Giving to me presents! Jå Hanz! Ich bin solch ein recht junges Mädchen!

So here's my wish list this year.
(Santa, I know you read my blog, you fat sumbitch.)

This exact USB-AC adapter/charger

This Thrashers Hooded Sweatshirt in large

Batman: Gotham Knight movie

LEGO bricks
Lego shop at home allows you to purchase specific bricks in any quantity. Here are some bricks I’d like for my building. Start here. Scroll down and enter the element IDs from below in the element ID area.

They are sort of in order of preference…

Element ID	Description	Color	Quantity
4210631	Latice plate 1x2	Dark stone grey	100
654126	Technic Brick 1x1	Black	20
654101	Technic Brick 1x1	White	20
4121715	Connector peg w/fricton	Black	50
370026	Technic Brick 1X2, Ø4.9	Black	100
302126	Plate 2x3	Black	30
243101	Flat tile 1x4	White	20
4210700	Brick 1x1 w/ knobs	Dark stone grey	50
4253815	Brick 1x2 w/ 4knobs	Black	20
307001	Flat tile 1x1	White	20
243101	Flat tile 1x4	White	30
306801	Flat tile 2x2	White	20
4211194	Flat tile 1x4	Reddish brown	20
243123	Flat tile 1x4	Bright blue	20
243126	Flat tile 1x4	Black	50
4211356	Flat tile 1x4	Medium stone grey	50
3000840	Plate 1x1	Transparent	60
4211399	Plate 1x1	Medium stone grey	100
4211053	Flat Tile 1x4	Dark stone grey	20
4211389	Brick 1x1	Medium stone grey	40
4211098	Brick 1x1	Dark stone grey	40
307026	Flat tile 1x1	Black	20

The Force Unleashed for the Wii

A gift certificate to MoreBeer.com (NOTE: This cost $1 in addition to the face amount),

Rome Season 1 & 2

Robots and Empire, by Isaac Asimov

Nightfall by Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg

This USB SD card reader from Best Buy

A Leatherman multi-tool, like this one here.

Saw blade

Acoustics album by Minus the Bear

Guitar Hero: World Tour Bundle for the Wii

Make sure you coordinate with others, since I don't need more than one of most of the things on the list.

Now get buying!!
Thanks.

ROAR, BITE, SCRATCH

Lately, I can't stop listening to the sound of animals fighting. The snarling, the growling, the gnashing of teeth.

I find something soothing in all the ruffled feathers and torn fur.

It's probably due to the wildlife encroaching on my tamelife. Some f@#%$!* squirrels and chipmunks ate through my garage door! Little bastards.

We got some of them back by "gettin' all rednecky" on them.

Three chipmunks even got into the bucket we store bird seed in (which is in the garage). Apparently they didn't like each other very much, and one of them ate the others in their face until they died. The animal cruelty this one chipmunk displayed was appalling to me, so I had an associate of mine bust a cap in his ass.

All in all, we've finally got enough varmints to have that pot luck dinner I've been promising. Look for the invite in the mail soon!

Yo

It's been a while.

What have I been always doing sometimes?

Summarized list:
- Working
- Logan
- Warming weather
- Killing

When I get home from working, I just haven't felt like sitting in front of a computer screen after doing so all day long. Especially now that Logan is a little older and running around; it's a lot of fun to play with him. And once he's in bed, my second job as a hitman takes up my whole night.

One job got me thinking. It really wasn't much of a job at first, it got interesting, but in the end, wasn't much of a job either.

Getting in to his place was easy. Since it was late at night, the ride to White Plains barely took an hour. His house was on a cul de sac not far from the Cross Westchester expressway. His place was right at the end and his backyard ran up against some woods and a baseball field.

He was home, which I knew before I left, and alone. He was Indian, I think, and judging by the decor in his place, Buddhist. His place was immaculate; clean, straight lines, fancy art on the walls, leather couches, mahogany hardwood floors, posh Oriental rugs throughout, a dark wooden bookcase full of hardcover books. This had some money, and for a minute I almost let myself wonder why he had a contract. I brushed it aside and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. I thought about climbing up the railings, since his stairs were finished hardwood with no runner, but decided it would be better to save my energy and besides, nobody's stairs squeaked as much as mine. The master bedroom had more Buddhist relics in it. As I moved through the open doorway, I noticed a fat, bald dude looking at me from the corner of the room. What the f... it was just a Buddha statue. I realized I was being lazy, but had nothing to worry about, this guy was out cold. But Buddha kept looking at me. Kept staring at me.

I couldn't shake the "karma, noble truths, etc." junk I had learned about Buddhism back when I was confirmed at my church. Instead of worrying about my actions though, I thought, "I guess this guy just had it coming."

I looked around for any weapons he might keep in his bedroom, and after finding nothing, decided it'd be best to finish the job in the hall, on the wooden floor. It might be easier to clean up then.

I walked out into the hallway to look around when I heard him moving. I turned around slowly, quietly, to face his doorway, and slowly began walking backwards, periodically glancing over my shoulder for a place to hide. Then the karma thing bit me in the ass. Literally, and it stung. I had backed into the corner of a side table he had in his hall. It was barely a bump, but enough to not only hurt my ass, but also send a large vase, and some ugly fake flowers, over onto the hardwood floors. Shit! I thought, but the vase hit with a soft thud, unbroken. Karma.

Nonetheless, he stumbled out of this bedroom and towards me, seemingly unaware I was just inside the shadows at the end of the hall. He looked half asleep still, and I figured he was heading into the bathroom or something.

He was wearing long, baggy pajama pants and no shirt. Once his gait revealed he had light colored socks on. He held an empty glass in one hand. He rubbed his face with the open palm of the other hand and picked his head up after he finished. Then he noticed my silhouette in the shadows.

I was just readying myself to move towards him when he startled and stepped back. His left foot hit the edge of the top stair awkwardly and he tumbled down violently. I quickly followed him down, using the railings to hurdle the broken glass that was strewn across the top few treads.

I got down to the bottom with my rope in hand when I noticed how still he was. His head was facing toward the wall but his torso was bent back, unnaturally and probably uncomfortably towards the middle of the room. I checked his pulse. He was dead. Karma.

I didn't even have to clean up. I was going to get paid because this dude was a klutz.

I put my rope back in my coat pocket and headed toward the window I climbed in. I noticed a framed picture on the wall that I didn't see when I came in. It was of Buddha with a saying superimposed over the picture. It read:

"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your common sense."

Literally that means, "only listen to what you want to hear."

I realize that's the mantra of a great number of people. People I know, people you know. It's a nice way to live.

I climbed out the window, pulled it shut and walked through the backyard, through the woods and to my car. I rubbed my ass where it still stung a little and got in. I drove home a little slower this time; I didn't want to get a speeding ticket. Speeding is dangerous and illegal.

Buddha was a genius. I never knew it was that easy to achieve nirvana.
Only listen to what you want to hear.

These are a few of my favourite things

Ever notice how British people put u's in words that don't need u's?

Idiouts!

The free samples at the Lindt outlet in Lee, Ma say, "Precision Computing, Annual Conference, 2006" To be honest, they aren't that good.

So you know what this blog is all about, and you still want a free sample? Okay, here are some of my favorite posts ever!!!


boxers or briefs
Michelle's birthday excitement!
A new pet in the house.
Helpful, and professional
Michelle’s new job
The 80s ruled!
I can see you.

Equalibrium

I'm impatient.

Damn, that took too long to type.


I'm not as funny as you think I am.

Here's a brief, real example of what I mean.

The other day, I was bringing the trash to the curb for pick up when I noticed something small moving slowly in the road. It moved in a weird way, almost like the wind was doing most of the work. I set the recycleables down and walked into the road to see what it was. It was a little squirrel. It appeared to have been involved in an automobile accident. Fortunately, it was only stunned--it's legs, back and head were all fine--it was only still a little scared. It looked like a young squirrel based on it's size and the roundness of it's face, but I really couldn't tell. I lifted my leg up enough to feel the stretch in my pants. Saddly, I admit, it was actually a little bit tough on my muscles, and it helped me realize I am a little out of shape and unflexible. I waited a moment with my leg in the air like some sort of yoga master. The sun made my shadow look long and funny. Then, suddenly, I dropped my foot, and my leg followed. Smash! The squirrel's head was crushed. I picked it up and drank it's blood, celebrating my victory over nature.

No! I'm just kidding, I didn't drink it's blood, that would be gross.


The point is, I'm only funny sometimes, and sometimes I'm not funny. When I'm not funny, I'm here. I probably won't update much, but I'll try real hard.

You might wonder how I can find the time to jibber-jabber all over these blogs, and I wonder how you have time to read them. Mostly, I don't do much at work, and my friends avoid me with clever excuses. If I really spent time with them, why would I need a blog to tell them what I'm always doing sometimes? They'd be there watching me do whatever it is that I always do sometimes!

There is a guy who makes marbles. He starts with some glass (which I guess is just sand) and melts it in a real hot oven of some type. He rolls the glass around, letting gravity shape the glass into a ball. He heats other colored glasses into long rolls, like logs. He scores the logs and breaks then. He heats the pieces up and layers them onto the glass ball. Then he heats the whole thing up again, rolling it around to let gravity make the shape into a ball. Then he adds more colors, sometime logs of colored glass, sometimes fragments or slivers. Then he heats it up again and rolls. The process repeats any number of times until he's satisfied with what he's made. He said that no two marbles are the same, with all the layers and rolling and heating.



I keep one of those marbles for a brain. That's why I'm so dumb.

Huh?

I noticed on my visitor tracker that a lot of recent visits came from people searching for koala swimwear, as I recently named a post after that. If you've never seen a koala swimsuit, I suggest you check it out. Do an image search on Google and make sure the safe search is off. Try searching at work, or church, or when little children are nearby and paying 100% attention to what's on the computer screen. Better yet, check it out with your mom in the room.

SCRATCH THAT! Don't do any of that stuff! If you really must see a koala swimsuit, do it when no one is around, unless you want to get fired or arrested or slapped.

That brings up something that I always wonder about sometimes: How many inside jokes do I use on this blog that only a small handful of you readers actually know? I would guess almost every post has some joke in it that only one or two of the readers he actually understand. (Right, Sniffy?)

Or for that matter, how many of you actually even care? And why would I even think that any of you would want to read about me? Seriously, I suck. I'm only mildly handsome. I can't break a 4 minute mile. I can't quite benchpress 450 lbs. I can't even hit the high F in Minnie Riperton's Loving You. I don't do anything remotely important.

With YouTube: Broadcast Yourself ^TM, MySpace, me.com, and Windows Live Space, everybody in the world today thinks they are special and better than average. They also think that everyone else actually cares about what they think and have to say. Fooey!

You should stop reading this right now and go outside. One day you're going to die, but right before that happens, you'll think, "Sheesh, I wish I went outside instead of thinking I cared about what Mike was always doing sometimes. I am such a numbnuts."

Actually, don't stop reading just yet. Check out this guy first. He actually is doing something important and he actually is better than average. Plus, I think he can hit that high F.

Yo Ho Ho! It's officially Christmas season!

My cousin Bobberto Rodriguez Phamingo Diego Martinez Montoya Lopez Gomez sent me a photo of me last year at our family Christmas party. This is when we were singing Christmas carols.



That reminded me to send a letter to Santa. I send him a letter every year. Actually, that's a slight exaggeration. I only wrote Santa once before, including this time. The following is an actual transcript of the actual letter.

Dear Santa,

'Sup bitch?

This year I have been particularly good. In case you were too busy eatting, you fat slob, here is a list of five of the many great things I have done so far:

1. I was awarded the Noble peace prize for literature for my short story, The Title of This Short Story is Actually the Entire Story.
2. I single-handedly saved three lives by performing colonoscopies on four elderly llamas. With my other hand, I delivered twins in a parked car in a traffic jam during rush hour. One of the twins, Handsome Awesomesky, is named after me.
3. I ate zucchini.
4. Figured out something to put in the space for #4 on the list of five great things I have done this year.
5. Won the inventor of the year award for coming up with a way to not be naked under my clothes.

So, as you clearly see, you should bring me these gifts. There are in no particular order. Some things on the list have links with more data, pictures, etc.

When H.A.R.L.I.E. Was One by David Gerrold - This is a sci-fi novel. I'd like a new (as in not used) copy, hardcover if it was even printed in hardcover. Good luck finding this.

An 18" K Constantinople Crash Cymbal - You can learn about this cymbal here and purchase it here. I'll need a good, double braced, boom cymbal stand for this as well.

Star Wars Battlefront II for Playstation 2

Lego Bricks -
- 2 X 4 Black Plates
- 1 X 6 Black Plates
- 1 X 6 White plates
- Assorted Jumper Plates
- 2 X 2 Smooth Top (SNOT) Plates

50 Lbs. of Domestic 2-Row Pale Malt - Unmilled

A Home Cheapo gift certificate so I can buy things I want without Michelle telling me I don't need it.

Tools
- 6" or 8" C-clamp (not a cheesy Hell*Mart version)
- 18" bar clamp/spreader (IRWIN makes some good clamps)
- 24" Pipe clamp (try Pony)
- A Stanley carpenter's square like this one.


A Minus the Bear CD other than Menos El Oso, which I already own.

Korg Chromatic Tuner - the one in the link exactly.

A 14" Evans Genera Coated Snare Drum Batter Head. After rocking like John Bonham for 10 months on my old drumhead, the top ply finally cracked. Now I need a new one.

I could also use a good 8' step ladder.

This Thrashers shirt, in XL because I'm fat.

That's all I can think of now. Maybe Michelle knows something else I might deserve.

Thanks Santa!

Love,
Mike

PS If you read this blog Santa, please share this wishlist with anyone who might buy me presents.

Echo, (echo),(echo)

People who know me tend to know my name. If you're the revisiting, casual blog surfer, you've probably already figured out my name is Mike. For many years in a row, Michael has been in the top 10 most popular baby names. It makes sense since it is a cool name and people named Michael are smart, funny, witty and incredibly handsome. (Can you remember that chick named Michael? She was handsome too.) The fact that Michael is such a popular name is evident here at Meglo*Life since, in my department alone, there are 4 people, including me, named Mike.

The other day, I walked into the men's room to empty my bladder. As I walked in, I passed by another Mike washing his hand's at the sink. I said hello and headed to the urinal. At the urinal next me is another one of the Mike's. I said hi to him too. When I finished up, I washed my hands, because hand washing is the best way to prevent the spread of disease, and just then, the fourth Mike walked in. I said hello to him too. It went something like this:


Me (nodding my head): Mike

Mike: Mike

Me: Mike

Mike (to me): Mike

Mike (to Mike): Mike

Mike: Mike, hi.

Mike: Mike

Me: Mike

Mike: Hey Mike.

Mike: Mike

Mike: Mike.


Okay, that didn't really happen. But there are four Mike's where I work. Honestly, I hope that never does happen. I think if it were to occur, the universe might end.

Different, but not the same

I'm back from the dead.

I will tell you now, Hell is a hell of a lot hotter than they say it is. No joke.

I don't plan on going back there again. The experience has changed me. You'll notice it here, I'm sure. I'll still make you laugh if you think something I wrote is funny. I might make you cry too if I kick you in the nuts. Who knows?

It was funny, looking up passed all the flames, to see how most of you kept coming back even though I said I was done. You must have thought I was lying to you?

When I got back, my first thought was, "You are all losers. I will never post again just to prove that your repeated visits are a waste of time."

But then I thought, "You need me, and love me so I will go through the painful steps of posting so your life can have some meaning."

So this is for you all, not me. It's altruistic now. You're welcome.

Hopefully that's good enough.

Honorary Honors?

Apparently after reading this Forbes™ article on me:

MAN IS AWESOME
A man working at Meglo*Life in Wheathog, Connecticut is considered by many to be the most awesome man that ever existed in the entire universe, both the known and unknown universe.

When questioned, the man humbly replied, "Yes, I am awesome." At that point, the interviewer's head exploded and candy flew out of it all over the floor. Co-workers of the awesome man all ran around and gathered the candy.

"He truly is awesome," one co-worker exclaimed as he munched on some sweets.

"This candy is pulling my fillings out," another said.

The awesome man is known as Mike, but most people refer to him simply as
'Sir.'

Michelle then found this article about her in TIME™:

WIFE OF THE YEAR
The small rural town of HomerSimpson, CT is home to TIME Magazine's 2005 Wife Of The Year. "This was the easiest decision ever" said the editor of Time, "There was really no contest once we saw Mrs. D's credentials". To achieve this feat, Michelle allowed her husband to spend a gillion dollars on a drumset, and then continue to invest money on cymbals. For Christmas she even bought him new drum heads & sticks. Barring a migraine, she does not mind her husband banging away every evening when he gets home from work. She even makes dinner, vacuums, mops, does the dishes, and brings home the bacon. But what really put her on top was the fact that she didn't even complain when her husband burned through $400 of oil to keep his
beer warm.

"Thank you for this honor. Honestly this is overwhelming, as I am simply just going about my business, doing things that need to be done". Said Michelle as she put the finishing touches on her cousin's two-tier shower cake.

What's next in store for this super-woman? "Well, I was thinking of getting a pet rabbit and naming him Brer".


Can you believe that? We're getting a rabbit.

Bang bang, thump bang, crash

'Sup Bitch?

So I ordered new cymbals. That's all I'm going to type about, so if you don't care about cymbals,
get lost.

Right now, they are somewhere between Shawnee, Kansas and Norfolk, Connecticut. I should get them on Monday. Then you better watch out, cause I'm going to play a sick double-bass fill with the new splash that will make glass shatter and the fillings explode out of your teeth.

I got all Zildjian cymbals, mostly because they are good, and there is a plethora of info about them available.

From biggest to smallest:
20" K custom dry ride
16" A custom crash
14" A custom crash
13" A series quick beat hi-hats
10" K custom dark splash

By accident I ordered Z custom crash cymbals. Z custom cymbals are heavy and loud, great for metal and heavy rock. Since I play in my basement, I don't need gong-sounding finishes on my cymbals. The A custom cymbals are more shimmering and more versatile. I'm going to return the Z custom cymbals and get A customs, so I didn't bother typing about the Z custom cymbals above.

bye.