You may recall, back in March, a journal entry regarding the tragic loss of a close family member. Since then I’ve been (politely) pestering my remaining uncle for his account of what happened immediately afterward. With his permission, it is now online.
While this may only be of interest to close friends and family, I’m sharing it with everyone anyway. My reasons are my own.
Goodbye, George Kerezman.
The George Diaries
There are three things I don’t write (much) about here, one of which is actually inappropriate to write about for the foreseeable future.
The other two are named Alex and Erica, and I really should write about them more often.
Wendi’s filling the void a bit by sharing with everyone what an awesome son we have.
Our awesome son
Found via Starjewel:
The following charts maps shoes sizes in different units used around the world (inches, centimeters, American, British, Japanese, and European shoes sizes) to the lengths of men’s units (in inches and centimeters).
Would this be a good time to mention I’m a 9-1/2 wide? Maybe not, as the page goes on to say,
As for shoe widths, there isn’t enough information about shoe widths to create the corresponding mapping to penis widths.
Ah well. Anyway, without further ado, here you go…
Shoe/Penis Size Conversions
There are all sorts of reasons why a person will read any given online journal. Sometimes it’s friendship, sometimes it’s for the topical commentary. A fair number of my favorite sites are such simply because of the chance to read something clever and pleasantly snarky. For instance, Emily recently wrote:
Then I did some calculations and figured out that my being bitter and angry at the world was probably the result of PMS. That made me madder. I want a better excuse for being pissed off. For example, some confirmation that everyone who isn’t me is actually a moron.
Sarah shares,
… and all I’d like to do is vacuum. Really. There is nothing more satisfying than grabbing some overly-loud machine and picking up itty bitty pieces of paper on carpet. … And that would be the janitor in me speaking. Crap.
The good Captain Rooba warns,
If you have a girlfriend that is from another culture and has never used a garbage disposal before. Make sure you are very specific about what can go in said garbage disposal. Don’t just say, “food”. “Food” is a very, very vague term.
If you fail to heed my warning… you may find yourself praying that you can fix a garbage disposal that was used to grind up duck. Not just duck meat… no… the whole duck… bones and all.
I can’t even properly excerpt the next one, since Doyce‘s entire entry is priceless:
A swarm of bees attacked and killed a 400-pound llama standing in a pasture.
That’s it. There doesn’t really have to be much more to the story than that, does there? Hell, the phrase “400-pound llama” is really enough all by itself.
Try it out. Just say that out loud, really slow.
“Four hundred pound… llllllllllama.”
Seriously, just try not to giggle. I bet you can’t do it.
Throw in “stung to death by bees while standing in a pasture” and you’ve got yourself a mental image that will keep you going for the rest of the day.
I picture this one ne’er-do-well llama out in a pasture, maybe leaning against a tree having a smoke. He’s looking bored. Suddenly his eyes widen at something he sees off screen.
The rest of the scene looks like a weird Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom Rodney King tape.
And before this gets completely out of hand, I’ll close with some slang silliness from Karen:
“I’ll just walk over there and shag her,” he said.
“Excuse me??? You mean, ‘snag her,’ right?”
“No, shag. It’s a baseball term. You know, ‘Go out to center field and I’ll shag you a few balls.’”
“Have you ever seen any of the Austin Powers movies?”
(Obviously he hadn’t.) I then explained, in the most delicate of terms, what ‘shag’ means in the current pop culture vernacular. I think I may have saved him from a potential lawsuit down the road. And I get extra credit for not laughing at the phrase, “shagging a few balls.”
You know what? I think I’ve discovered what one of my goals for this site should be.
Quoteworthiness.
What do you think? Do I have what it takes? Let’s find out.
Thank you, Unix Gal, for posting a list of Astrological After-Sex Comments.
I found Wendi’s eerily appropriate, and mine just plain wrong. I’m not that kind of boy!
(She’s a Cancer, I’m a Pisces. There, happy?)
It all started Friday evening, as most weekends do. My grandfather and his wife took the kids to a concert, so Wendi and I took advantage of the opportunity for a quick dinner date. Have I mentioned that I love NoHo’s teriyaki chicken? I have? Good.
We hurried through dinner, hurried back to the house… and waited until 10:30 for the kids to be returned. See, they decided to visit the conveniently-located Burgerville for a bite. Oh well. This just meant that the kids would be really tired once we got home from…
X2: X-Men United. We dragged the kids to an 11:00pm showing on Friday night. The short review? I liked it. The longer review looks something like this.
Saturday dawned far too early for our sleepy bodies. Wendi had to work, and before work she had to run around doing errands. Luckily for her she had a trainee along to help lug things, and doubly lucky for her the gig ended early. Afterward came some unpleasantness between her and I, but it was all sorted out by morning to the betterment of all involved.
Let’s just say that communication, caring and honesty are incredibly vital things in any loving relationship.
Sunday was Bebop Movie Day for my friends and I. First, however, I had to do my usual email maintenance and AS/400 tape backup routine. I won’t go into the problems with corporate email, since it’ll only ruin a perfectly cheerful mood. Suffice to say that eventually I got the hell out of there and out to the theater, where I met…
Mari, with Angst and Anxiety (Lilith’s “demonspawn”) in tow. We bought our tickets and headed for the front of the balcony, where I’ve sat for nearly every movie I’ve seen at Cinema 21. (Let me tell you, back in the day I saw movies there all the damned time, too.) Eventually Mari was able to find and retrieve Lilith and Geoffrey, but couldn’t spot Celina and Wade. Oh well.
Short version of my Bebop review: Eh, it was okay. The details are available if you want the full discourse.
I’d like to break for a rant, here. What is it with anime moviemakers? Is there some cultural thing that decrees, “thou shalt include random philosophical mumbo-jumbo in all action/adventure fare”? Escaflowne has it, the X movie was drowning in it, and even the Bebop movie couldn’t escape the curse. (Don’t get me started on Gundam Wing, an entire TV series built around the concept of “philosophical discourse during battle.”) The movie is chirping along just fine, and WHAM, we get two or three solid minutes of pointless rambling about fate or the nature of the universe or reality versus fantasy or some-such. I don’t mind a bit of deeper meaning, but I don’t want to be preached at. Repeatedly. Is anyone listening? Anyone? Bueller?
Okay then. The movie (that Mari slept partly through) ended, and surprise! We found Celina and Wade, who’d gotten to the theater just a bit too late to meet up with Mari. Ah well. This was the first time Mari or I had met Celina, though we’d chatted with her on and off for quite a while from back in the old #KNRK days. (She was Mononoke.) Celina’s a cutie, and Wade’s a helluva lucky guy.
We all went out for chinese food, had a pretty good time, and went more-or-less on our seperate ways. There are worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than taking in a movie and then dinner with friends. Far, far worse.
The remainder of my evening was spent killing time over at Lil’ and Geoffrey’s place. We made fun of Red Planet, we made fun of the demonspawn, we made fun of Sometimes They Come Back, we made fun of each other. In short, we all had fun.
I’m sure that everything I forgot or left out will appear elsewhere, eventually. In the meantime, suffice to say that I had a fulfilling and happy weekend, all told. I’ve never had so many good friends at one time before, and it’s a great feeling.
Thank you, my friends, for making my weekend fabulous.
My X2 Review
My Bebop Review
