Posts from — July 2005

Okay, I think Bill Murray may have not only jumped the shark, but hit the far wall, fallen in the tank and gotten mauled on the way back across. (and I’m a fan of Mr. M, or BM as I’ll call him now)

I was watching the boob tube last night and there was a promo for Bill Murray who would be appearing on Letterman last night. The clip they showed had him declaring his love, crazy-style, for one Katie Holmes.

Heh, you say. Lolz!!11 you type. But “omgwtfbbq!” I thought. Now granted, I didn’t see the full appearance, just the clip, but BM’s bit seemed lifted from the very funny Dane Cook, who did the same act on Jimmy Kimmel’s show.

Don’t believe me? Go look for yourself on Dane’s site (just wear headphones or be quick to turn the sound off). Click Video, and on the left click “Jimmy Kimmel Live 5/27/2005″. Yes, the show that happened A MONTH before BM’s appearance.

Again, I didn’t see BM’s whole appearance, but I’ll look for an archive to continue my “J’accuse plagiariste!!” rant. Maybe one of my friends has a copy on their myth boxes.

Apparently I need to move to New Zealand. There’s a “man drought” there. My services may be needed!

In other news, Tim is a goofball who likes RSS feeds.

Rosenblum’s quarterly open house is coming up soon. Tickets are $25 and before you scoff at the price, just know that there’s a lot of stuff to taste, so it’s a bargain in my eyes. Oh, and that includes a nice Riedel glass with Rosenblum’s logo on it.

The event’s in Alameda on the 13th and 14th. I’d recommend taking the ferry over. More details here.

Oh, you can also swing by that distillery and taste some of their liquors.

Something bad and good happened to me yesterday. I feel both annoyed, yet relieved at the same time.

I had my bike up at work and I thought I’d take it for a ride in the sun for once before putting it in my car to take it back home — long story, but I had to stay late the other day after riding in and a coworker gave me a lift home so I left my bike at the office.

So after work, I went riding around Seminary Drive up here in Mill Valley/Belvedere (btw- I keep mistyping Belvedere as Bulverde. . . ) and I got a flat. Sucked. I did have my patch kit with me although the spare tube was in my backpack back at work.

I managed to get the wheel off and tube out pretty quickly – mostly due to my old experience of trying to keep up with Jeff and Bart oh so long ago in my recreational bike days of yore. But the patches didn’t seem to hold on to the tube and plug the two leaks. I guess I didn’t sandpaper it enough or wait long enough for the glue.

As I realized it wouldn’t hold some road racer types rolled up and checked on me. They were on fancy bikes that cost more than my civic but were having problems on the same hill I did. Anyway, one of them offered me a tube and I offered to give him some cash for it.

He said, “Nah man, it won’t fit exactly on your bike, but take it anyway, it’ll get you back to your car at least. And I don’t want cash, it’s just good karma.”

Shit, that means I have to be nice for a while, because I certainly didn’t deserve the good karma (remember, I’m an asshole). So no making fun of the honkys in Mill Valley or Tiburon for a month or yuppies on pricey roadbikes for at least two months. But I’ll still make fun of volvo drivers, I can’t stop that.

I went for a bike ride through the park on Saturday. I realized that not everyone got the message that you can’t smoke in public places in the NannyState of SF.

I rolled past this woman who would’ve made the best anti-smokin’ poster ever, but alas I didn’t have my camera with me. This woman was a mess. She was pushing a tandem baby stroller but leaning on it hard like she was working off a hangover. A button on her shirt was either missing or skipped over so her gut was sticking out a bit like when I ride my bike (not a pretty sight either). There was a baby in the rear seat, and what looked like an 8 year old in the front seat. He was clearly too big for the stroller so his legs were all sticking out and he didn’t seem happy to be outside.

But the capper to “the look” for the ensemble was the dangling cig from mommy’s lower lip. You know the look. The Keith-Richards-is-playing-a-solo and somehow the cig is stuck to his lower lip due to the cement-like effects of his glue-spittle. Mommy had the same glue spit. And when she took a drag, the smoke went straight down to the stroller covering the kids. As Paris says, “That’s hot”.

Don’t get me wrong, I think she should be able to smoke wherever she wants, but I think SF goes too far in it’s .gov involvement in everything under the sun. What I don’t like is her blowing her smoke on her kids. And what I’m making fun of is her complete look and utter lack of sense. @##@!$% I wish I had my camera that day.

Man, I’m a snobby asshole. All this smoke talk makes me want to grab a cigar and head to Mountain Lake Park for a nice stroll.

today at work via IM:

coworker: i sometimes watch CSI – am i getting old?

Is he asking me because I’m older and wiser, or just older?

Something I’ve always liked is the way ESL speakers have a rawness or bluntness to their translations or speech (even when the blutness hits me).

When I lived in Mexico I always had good quotes from the kids I taught. I can’t remember anything specific, but the kids would reply to questions in English with stuff that I would think as funny, but to them was just efficient translation without any PC-ness.

me (pointing at the textbook picture): which person has the red bag ?

student a: the woman

as there are many people in the picture, I’m trying to get an answer of “the woman on the left”.

me: “which woman?”

student a: the fat one

And most times, the kids were right. Or at least the other kids knew which one was meant.

The reason I brought that up is because I was getting a hair cut over the weekend. The two barbers I go to barely speak english, and I only know how to say “thank you” and “big brother” in Cantonese. But we communicate enough to get my hair cut right and the prices right.

But sometimes the communication is a bit more harsh, even if it’s not intended:

barber (combing my hair): bald top front getting.

me: thanks for the reminder. whatcha think? 5 to 7 more years up there?

barber: heh, longer, more years maybe not sure

me: oh well

barber : (nodding) bald soon top front bald

me: (to myself) that’s either a great haiku or you’ve been watching Star Wars too much

Bald top front

getting. Bald soon top

front bald soon

via yahoo news:

WASHINGTON (Reuters) – Sen. Hillary Clinton pressed on Thursday for a government investigation into how simulated sex cropped up in a modified version of the blockbuster criminal adventure video game “Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.”

link

Wtf? Does she want to be the new Tipper? I’m starting to not like her.

Ninety pct of DVR users skip TV ads – new study

LONDON (Reuters) – TV advertisers are facing a potential disaster as more consumers buy digital video recorders (DVRs), according to a new study, since about 90 percent of current users fast-forward through ads.

more interesting:

Several years ago, a man pointed a gun through the window of a car stopped at a Sao Paulo traffic light. When the driver lifted his cap to reveal his face, the assailant apologized for trying to rob the world’s greatest soccer player — Pele — and walked away. story

Although there were some things I didn’t like about it, City of God gets a mighty 4-asterisk rating from me. In a nutshell it’s the story of how a kid stuck in the worst slum in Brasil “makes it out”. Not to give too much away, but I didn’t think he really made it out, he’s still tied to the slum.

The movie’s timeframe really helps set the story and even moreso, helps the viewer see the start and growth of the City of God. Unfortunately, the backstory was more fascinating for me at times that the story of the protaginist, Rocket, or the baddies.

The movie’s suppoed to be about how Rocket shoots above all the earth-bound mess (omgwtfbbq?! get it?! rocket?! shoots above! lolz!!11), but there’s more than three seasons of soap opera character development potential here too. You could’ve made three or four movies out of the amount of material in this: the start and growth of a slum, the history and growth of a gang, Rocket’s story, Lil’ Dice’s story (which is pretty nutty) and change to Lil Ze, Knockout Ned’s story, etc. But the film covers all this and manages to keep you interested as the stories are all tied together. And it’s the side stories that are so much more interesting, but it all fits together. Fortunately the story-telling’s not chronological or anyone watching would pass out from exhaustion and depression from/on the conditions of Brasil.

Okay – so enough ramblings. Watch the flick, it’s good. If my only complaint is that it could be a bit tighter, then that’s shouldn’t effect your rental decision. Blah blah.

If you have seen City of God and liked it, you should rent the flick Central Station

Oh, btw- this happened the same week I watched this movie:

Roberto Carlos mugged live on radio

Roberto Carlos mugged live on radio

June 25, 2005 12:09 IST


Brazilian soccer star Roberto Carlos was giving a radio interview on his cellular phone on Friday when he said armed robbers approached the car in which he was traveling and robbed the driver.


“They just robbed my car, they just robbed my car,” said the Real Madrid leftback and Brazilian international, breaking out in nervous laughter.

So on Friday I thought I’d commute to work on my bike. Despite leaving later than I wanted, I made it in. The hill in the Presidio that I hate wasn’t too horrific as I just took a break (or two) going up. Once I got rolling it wasn’t too bad. The Golden Gate Bridge isn’t as flat as I thought it was, but no big deal. Down through Sausalito and on to work and I was set.

But on the way back, the sunny workday of Mill Valley was left behind as the sun disappeared in Sausalito, exchanged for a cold thick wet fog that was almost like rain.

I finally made it up to the bridge and was almost poopin’ my shorts as I was ridin across. The wind and rain/fog on the bridge made me feel like I was riding in a car wash that had a giant fan on my right. I white-knuckled that ride all the way across just trying to stay upright in the crosswind. Damn freaky I tell ya. I was soaking wet by the time I got home and a bit spooked, but looking back, I was glad I did it.

Now I just have to do it a whole bunch more. . . .