GameCube madness

As all of you know, I got my Wii on launch day. One of the greatest things about it is its backwards compatibility. So, for a $25 controller (less if you don’t care about getting the quality of the Nintendo brand), you can essentially have a fully functional GameCube. Add to that a $13 copy of Super Mario Sunshine and a $6 copy of Viewtiful Joe, and my total comes to around $45 for a new system and two games.

And so, here’s wishful thinking: I’m updating my Wish List section slowly, and it currently has Wii accessories or games I want, but for those who were already thinking of grabbing a gift for me, a cheap gift would be a used GameCube game.

You know, if you love me.

Yellow Page Salesman

One of the best field trips I’ve ever had when in college was to this huge printing plant in Merced (sorry, I can’t remember it’s name). It was the one place where they print all the Yellow Pages for the entire state of California. This printing press was monstrous. Think four stories tall, with enough of a footprint to basically make you think you’re walking through an apartment complex, and it’s just one press. The paper stream runs through at 30 mph, and any thoughts of paper cuts on that thing (which could easily happen) still make me cringe.

One of the coolest things I learned that day was that, contrary to popular belief, the yellow pages aren’t actually printed on yellow paper. It’s printed on white paper, and all the yellow is actually ink. Yellow ink is the cheapest ink to purchase, and so it justifies the expense. Also, using white paper means that they’re able to reproduce accurately four color process and have certain ads and letters in white.

Flash forward to a week ago. A salesman for the Yellow Pages came in to my work, asking if we’d like to put a bonafide ad in the upcoming edition. And he made a huge fuss that we can print any color, except for white. When my boss asked about this, the salesman said that it costs more to bleach the pages.

Bull.

What a Wiikend!

Benzilla WiiTennis

So Matt Dixon calls me on Saturday evening, around 6, and asks me how bad I want the Wii. And he knows the answer. He doesn’t even have to ask. Already, he could almost see the drool collecting on the bib I’d been wearing for weeks because of this thing. He could hear the heavy breathing, the heart pounding, the rumble of my stomach. I was palpitating, seriously.

Well, he had just dropped by the local Best Buy, where they had 84 units, you know, just to see what the line looked like. Turns out there were 60+ people there, and it was only 6pm the night before launch. And I, with a sister having just arrived an hour earlier, couldn’t immediately drop everything and camp out all night. So, to make a long story short, he spent an all-nighter studying whilst waiting in line, and I was essentially his biatch. Nicole says she doesn’t love me nearly as much as Matt, because she wouldn’t do that. Maybe for herself, but not for me…

So, I got it. I was number 82 out of 84, and picked up Rayman: Raving Rabbids and Red Steel, but no second controller. Turns out they’re SOLD OUT almost everywhere. My kingdom, my kingdom for a wii-mote. But here’s the crazy thing, number 86 in line paid $70 for his place there, and didn’t get anything to show for it… Ha.

I’m so mean.

But, I digress. It’s AMAZING. The BEST. EVER. Get one, when you can.

Beavertown

Beavertown
by James Tate, from his book Return to the City of White Donkeys

Thanks to the new beaver dam, Mr. Foley’s
yard was flooding. He was furious and called
the police. Officer Crothers stood there, shaking
his head. “It’s a real beauty, isn’t it?” he said.
“But it’s flooding my yard, and soon it will be
in my basement,” Mr. Foley said. “Well, there’s
nothing we can do about it. They’re protected,
and you’d pay a very stiff fine, and possibly
do time in jail if you so much as ruffled the
fur of one of them,” Crothers said. “You mean
a beaver is more important than a man, than my
whole family?” Mr. Foley said. “I didn’t say
that. I didn’t make the law, I just enforce it.
The beavers didn’t think they were building a
dam, you know. It’s their home. They’ve got
wives and kids, too. They’ve got grandparents,
and aunts and uncles. They might even have little
beaver TV sets for all I know. Let them be,
Mr. Foley. Let them be.” Officer Crothers
started to walk away. “One hand grenade right
in the middle of it is all it would take,” Mr.
Foley said. Crothers stopped and looked Foley
in the eye. “After four hundred years of slaughter,
we’re finally at peace with the beavers. They’re
happy, and we’re happy. They’re hard working,
intelligent and strong. Have you got a problem
with that, Mr. Foley?” “But my yard is flooding,”
Mr. Foley said. “For god’s sake, pretend you’re
a beaver. That’s what the rest of us do,”
Crothers said.

The Jean is back in town, the Jean is back in towwwwowwn

Jean arrived for a week long stay on Saturday evening. Her train, after she got off, simultaneously crashed into a family of penguins, caught on fire, and derailed into a suburban shopping center. It’s all in the family, you know.

Tuesday night was AMAZING. Any of you on the Central Coast need to go the Great American Melodrama at least once in your life. Tuesday was the opening night of their annual Holiday show, in which we got a stunning rendition of A Christmas Carol followed by a fractured fairy tale called Snow White and the Five (Don’t Ask) Dwarves and a Vaudeville Revue to wrap things up. I seriously busted up when, during the fractured fairy tale, the Jester turned towards Prince Charming, and proclaimed:

Save the Princess, Save the World.

Can’t stop the signal

Jayne by Bill Mudron.

Here you’ll find fan-made Serenity comics. They really kick some major gussa, and that’s a good thing. In fact, I’d wager that a good number of them are better than the pre-movie, Joss-written, canon comic series Those Left Behind, of which I’m proud to say I own every issue of the first run.

So far I’ve only read The Black by Bill Mudron (who also drew the fantastic art of Jayne above) and Serenity Park by Lux Lucre, which is, as you may have guessed, a post-Serenity comic in the style of South Park.

Enjoy!

Defining the Problem

Defining the Problem
by Wendy Cope
I can’t forgive you. Even if I could,
You wouldn’t pardon me for seeing through you.
And yet I cannot cure myself of love
For what I thought you were before I knew you.

—————————-

No, there’s not anything wrong between Nicole and me. I just ran across this poem, and it just seemed to be timely. I was just thinking about everything that has changed in this past year, that’s all.

40 things that only happen in movies

From the list of 40 things that only happen in movies:

8. Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to learn to speak German. Simply speaking English with a German accent will do. Similarly, when they are alone, all German soldiers prefer to speak English to each other.23. If being chased through a city you can usually take cover in a passing St Patrick’s Day parade – at any time of the year.

25. You will survive any battle in any war UNLESS you show someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.

37. Most musical instruments (especially wind instruments and accordions) can be played without moving your fingers.

And from my own list of things that only happen around Jim Bentley:

1. Voices can and will issue forth from Jim’s pants, asking for Door Shims for some unnamed “project.”

23. My car explodes.

47 1/2. Digging a huge freakin’ hole where the kitchen used to be is actually a good idea.

Euro-trash

Me and Apollo

To further delve into the mystery of the last post, in which I guess I’m the last to know about what’s going on atop of my own head(!), I share with you a story which happened about two weeks ago.

Now, as you can see from this picture, Nicole gave Apollo a fauxhawk a while back. Our neighbor’s friend comes over for the first time, and upon looking at our puppy, declares “My, aren’t you the cutest little eurotrash!” I walk out from the room, and, meeting her for the first time, say “Eurotrash, huh?”

To which she says, “yes.” … I wanted to smack her.
I think that was funnier in my head than when written, but, for those of you who aren’t as amused by the ability of this woman to simultaneously grow a pair and make me wish for anvils from the sky… well, you also get a picture of me and the puppy rawking our ‘hawks. Admittedly, it’s not the best picture, but it’ll do.