3.4.2013
I hotrodded it across the desert last week to meet a bunch of pals, including Linkey Loo Robot and his lovely wife, at our annual Cactus League Spring Training trip. My co-pilot was a late scratch, so with one passenger, I drove solo. I did not pack snacks for solo trekking.
I packed crackers and spray cheese. I packed sliced salami for the cheese-sprayed crackers, if one wanted such a deluxe treat. But since I had no co-pilot, none of it was deployed.
I packed potato chips and french onion dip (I had an in-cabin cooler, natch), but having two hands and all three eyes on the road, there weren't no dippin'.
I brought cookie dough and spoons. Didn't deploy them.
I build-your-own bruschetta. It would have worked with a team. Solo, no go.
I brought the fixin's for banana splits. I had to concentrate on driving, not splitting bananas.
I brought the ingredients for seven-layer Mexi dip to assemble somewhere near Blythe. Everyone knows freshly assembled seven-layer is superior, but since I was occupied, it wasn't assembled, freshly or otherwise.
I brought a kit for making Chicago-style hot dogs, complete with dogs, bun, tomato slices, yellow mustard, diced onion, neon-green relish, sport peppers and celery salt, but my duty was to my passenger and road safety.
Lastly, I brought my espresso machine, complete with whole milk in a mini pitcher, because I thought a fresh cappuccino would hit the spot around Goodyear, but since I was driving, I the only frothing I did was at the mouth out of fury for the other jerks driving around.
So ... we stopped at McDonalds. Thirty minutes after eating that Mc-whatever, I felt like puking.
Tonight - The Homestead.
We made it through another month.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
ED-Gar! BASE-Ball! (REDUX)
3.3.2013
Solo Baseball Story #1
The year is 1979. The Capital Electric Bears is having baseball practice and a young TNSC Robot is called upon to play the catcher position. TNSC Robot at any age wasn't into playing catcher and on that hot, dusty day in '79 tried to impart that fact onto his coach but his coach wasn't hearing any of it. So I threw on the mask, grabbed the mitt and squatted. Coach, sporting his brand-new CASIO digital watch (which he demoed the alarm AND the stopwatch modes to the team only moments earlier) took the umpire's position behind me.
The first batter, our best player, hit every pitch he got. Which was good for me, as I shut my eyes tight every time he swung the bat. The second batter ended my stint at playing catcher, but not they way you might think. He fouled the first pitch off. It went straight back and, not closing my eyes this first time, stuck out a hand to catch it. It went over my outstretched mitt and whizzed straight at my unprotected coaches face! Defensively, he raised up his hands and, you guessed it, deflected the foul with his brand-new CASIO digital watch. It died, but it died messy. It's CASIO-tones went haywire, emitting a constant bee-dee-dee-deedlee zap zap garble garble beep deep beep zzzap ... my god it was funny. It's LCD was shattered and bled black gunk all over. Coach took what must have been an immediate $300 or $400 loss (it was 1979, mind you) in stride. He removed the watch, placed it on home plate, took the bat out of the batter's hands and smashed the CASIO into oblivion.
I played the outfield after that.
Then I drew green mustaches and beards on everyone.
Tonight - by special request: Smuggler's Cove
Drink like a pirate!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Solo Baseball Story #1
The year is 1979. The Capital Electric Bears is having baseball practice and a young TNSC Robot is called upon to play the catcher position. TNSC Robot at any age wasn't into playing catcher and on that hot, dusty day in '79 tried to impart that fact onto his coach but his coach wasn't hearing any of it. So I threw on the mask, grabbed the mitt and squatted. Coach, sporting his brand-new CASIO digital watch (which he demoed the alarm AND the stopwatch modes to the team only moments earlier) took the umpire's position behind me.
The first batter, our best player, hit every pitch he got. Which was good for me, as I shut my eyes tight every time he swung the bat. The second batter ended my stint at playing catcher, but not they way you might think. He fouled the first pitch off. It went straight back and, not closing my eyes this first time, stuck out a hand to catch it. It went over my outstretched mitt and whizzed straight at my unprotected coaches face! Defensively, he raised up his hands and, you guessed it, deflected the foul with his brand-new CASIO digital watch. It died, but it died messy. It's CASIO-tones went haywire, emitting a constant bee-dee-dee-deedlee zap zap garble garble beep deep beep zzzap ... my god it was funny. It's LCD was shattered and bled black gunk all over. Coach took what must have been an immediate $300 or $400 loss (it was 1979, mind you) in stride. He removed the watch, placed it on home plate, took the bat out of the batter's hands and smashed the CASIO into oblivion.
I played the outfield after that.
Then I drew green mustaches and beards on everyone.
Tonight - by special request: Smuggler's Cove
Drink like a pirate!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Porky and the Vacuum
3.2.2013
There's some bad shit happening down in, uh, some town called "Downey." Seems someone's battery recycling plant has been poisoning the nearby environment with all sorts of nasty elements, chemicals and compounds. There are neighborhoods, schools, day care centers, shopping malls, gardens, parks and all sortsa things people sit on, stand on, sleep on, eat, breathe and other things that involve everyday life that are covered with shit that give ya cancer. Like I said, it's nasty.
Thing is, why is this happening? Why are people there? Where they there first? Why is the factory there? Was it there first? I haven't looked up what group was there first, but why bother? Either one shoulda avoided the other in the first place. I just do not get things like this. I can simplify what I'd do in such a situation with an analogous example:
Let's say I board a city bus. It's something I did a bit in SF, never in LA, but thousands of times in Chicago. I board a bus and surveying the coach for a seat I spy a stinky bum. A really filthy, rag-wearing malodorous bus urchin. I, me, what I do is ... not sit by the scuzz. I sit far away from him. I hold my breath walking past him. That's what I do.
Alternately, say that I'm already ON the bus when some 7 foot tall, tatter-wrapped, foul-mouthed, foul-smelling beastie boards the bus. I, me, what I do is ... move. I move far away from him. I hold my breath while I move. That's what I do.
Tonight - Elixir A tonic for what "ales" you! (ugh)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
There's some bad shit happening down in, uh, some town called "Downey." Seems someone's battery recycling plant has been poisoning the nearby environment with all sorts of nasty elements, chemicals and compounds. There are neighborhoods, schools, day care centers, shopping malls, gardens, parks and all sortsa things people sit on, stand on, sleep on, eat, breathe and other things that involve everyday life that are covered with shit that give ya cancer. Like I said, it's nasty.
Thing is, why is this happening? Why are people there? Where they there first? Why is the factory there? Was it there first? I haven't looked up what group was there first, but why bother? Either one shoulda avoided the other in the first place. I just do not get things like this. I can simplify what I'd do in such a situation with an analogous example:
Let's say I board a city bus. It's something I did a bit in SF, never in LA, but thousands of times in Chicago. I board a bus and surveying the coach for a seat I spy a stinky bum. A really filthy, rag-wearing malodorous bus urchin. I, me, what I do is ... not sit by the scuzz. I sit far away from him. I hold my breath walking past him. That's what I do.
Alternately, say that I'm already ON the bus when some 7 foot tall, tatter-wrapped, foul-mouthed, foul-smelling beastie boards the bus. I, me, what I do is ... move. I move far away from him. I hold my breath while I move. That's what I do.
Tonight - Elixir A tonic for what "ales" you! (ugh)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 06, 2014
Are we there yet?
3.1.2014
I'm sure that many of you play or have played "observation games" or "road trip games." There's the license plate game, where you try to spot a tag of each of the 50 states; there's "slug-a-bug" where you slug yr opponent when you spy a Volkswagen Beetle (we called it "Beeper" and didn't hit anyone when my brother, sister and I played it as kids); there's "I Spy" and lots of others.
I've even developed a few:
Nice Dualie! - Be the first to see a dualie pickup and declare aloud, "Nice Dualie!" and score. There are different point values for different dualies and negative points for saying "Nice Dualie!" when it's just a pickup truck. (Let me know if you want the rule sheet.)
Bobcat Alert! - Just say "Bobcat Alert!" when you see a Bobcat digging vehicle to warn others that one is near. They move quickly and erratically and are a menace. Mini-Caterpilars, Ryobis and other miniature dozers, diggers and such all count. This game is not really a game. It's more of a public service.
Prius Attack! and its variant Prius Attaxi! - This one, like "Bobcat Alert!" is a public service: Those goddamn Priuses hardly make a sound when they're moving and can sneak up on you. In addition, the people who drive them are smug assholes. They will run you over with a sense of entitlement, but they're low emissions, by god. For both Prius Attack! and Prius Attaxi!, simply declare "Prius Attack!" when you see a Prius moving in any direction and "Prius Attack, Not Attacking!" for a parked or stopped Prius. (Same for Prius Attaxi!)
I retired the game "Rape Van" in development when the focus group found it to be in poor taste. I still call them out, though.
This recap of the games in play today sets the stage for the roll out of a whole new game:
TEXT NECK!
You've seen it: The telltale bent neck indicating someone is looking down at a handheld device. Examples are EVERYWHERE! In the car, in the cafe, on the sidewalk, in the crosswalk. By men, by women, by children walking dogs, jogging, pushing strollers ... the list goes on and on!
Play is simple! See a text neck, yell, "Text Neck!"
Scoring is simple! Remember what the text necker was doing and submit the observation to the brand-new Facebook group called "Text Neck." A three-judge panel will score your submission.
Have fun and happy hunting!
Tonight - Sutter Station Tavern - Cash Only
(I've got a thing for Russian Barmaids with dishwashing gloves)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I'm sure that many of you play or have played "observation games" or "road trip games." There's the license plate game, where you try to spot a tag of each of the 50 states; there's "slug-a-bug" where you slug yr opponent when you spy a Volkswagen Beetle (we called it "Beeper" and didn't hit anyone when my brother, sister and I played it as kids); there's "I Spy" and lots of others.
I've even developed a few:
Nice Dualie! - Be the first to see a dualie pickup and declare aloud, "Nice Dualie!" and score. There are different point values for different dualies and negative points for saying "Nice Dualie!" when it's just a pickup truck. (Let me know if you want the rule sheet.)
Bobcat Alert! - Just say "Bobcat Alert!" when you see a Bobcat digging vehicle to warn others that one is near. They move quickly and erratically and are a menace. Mini-Caterpilars, Ryobis and other miniature dozers, diggers and such all count. This game is not really a game. It's more of a public service.
Prius Attack! and its variant Prius Attaxi! - This one, like "Bobcat Alert!" is a public service: Those goddamn Priuses hardly make a sound when they're moving and can sneak up on you. In addition, the people who drive them are smug assholes. They will run you over with a sense of entitlement, but they're low emissions, by god. For both Prius Attack! and Prius Attaxi!, simply declare "Prius Attack!" when you see a Prius moving in any direction and "Prius Attack, Not Attacking!" for a parked or stopped Prius. (Same for Prius Attaxi!)
I retired the game "Rape Van" in development when the focus group found it to be in poor taste. I still call them out, though.
This recap of the games in play today sets the stage for the roll out of a whole new game:
TEXT NECK!
You've seen it: The telltale bent neck indicating someone is looking down at a handheld device. Examples are EVERYWHERE! In the car, in the cafe, on the sidewalk, in the crosswalk. By men, by women, by children walking dogs, jogging, pushing strollers ... the list goes on and on!
Play is simple! See a text neck, yell, "Text Neck!"
Scoring is simple! Remember what the text necker was doing and submit the observation to the brand-new Facebook group called "Text Neck." A three-judge panel will score your submission.
Have fun and happy hunting!
Tonight - Sutter Station Tavern - Cash Only
(I've got a thing for Russian Barmaids with dishwashing gloves)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)