Sdtrk: ‘We don’t belong’ by Sylvan

No, the heat hasn’t killed me. But it’s sure as hell trying. It’s been in the lower 90s every day since I last posted! I can only say this: Autumn better arrive early, and last for a long time — like from early September to mid-November. Mother Nature, I’M CALLING YOU OUT!!

I’m disappointed. I was semi-awake for like nearly half an hour before I got out of bed today, and all during that time, I was attempting to remember the details of last night’s dream. But, as it turns out, that the last half of my dream consisted of me attempting to remember the details of the first half of my dream. GodDAMNIT!!@
So what I’m left with is: it was a sunny-yet-nice day, and I was in the parking lot of ILHS, which was the location of the best job I’ve ever had in real life. I was driving some sort of sports car — a Mazda Rx-8, I believe — and you know how you can remove the back seats in vans? Well, you could do that to all the seats in my car, and two of my coworkers were putting them back in for me. Whilst that was going down, I was standing a few feet away, speaking to my real-life supervisor Avinash about Synthetiks.
‘What can you tell me about CandyGirls? I have seen a couple of pictures of them on the Internet, and I thought getting one would be pretty neat, but what would you say about them?’ he asked. (Picture that being said with an Indian accent, by the way.)
‘Well, to be honest, they’re not really my area of expertise’, I replied. ‘I mean, they’re cute and all, but for some reason, I never got too into them. I could tell you about RealDolls, Rare-Borgs and Mechadolls all day, but I don’t know a whole lot about the CandyGirl line, sorry.’
I was about to suggest that he hop online and hit the Doll Forum, when Sandy, one of my coworkers, motioned for me to come over to my car. ‘You gotta clear some of these quarters off the floor before we can get these seats in,’ she said. I peered inside my car, and there was about $50 in quarters spread out all over the floor.
‘O!’ I exclaimed, a bit surprised. ‘Oops!’

Aaand that’s pretty much all I recall. What would a dream interpreter make of this, I wonder?
1) I miss my job at ILHS.
1) I’m a trusted Synthetiks expert.
1) My quarter storage skills are horribly inadequate.
…yeah, that sounds about right.
Back in the early-to-mid Nineties, I used to keep detailed dream journals, and I was pretty disciplined about it, too. My problem now is that I do my best to recall what occurred in my dream; however, my desire to stay in bed and dream even more usually wins out. I’m too busy trying to spend my time in the proverbial dreamland, that by the time I legitimately wake up, I have around ten minutes or less before I forget the intricacies and plot points of what I was dreaming.

I’ve got to get ready for my final session of Transcription technology, but I’ll return with a summary of the fine Sunday evening I had with a couple of mates. In the meantime, here’s a link to a video clip from 2003 of Actroid-chan, before she made her official NEDO Expo debut (click on where it says ‘MOVIE’, obviously). Automatically cute!

Sdtrk: ‘1939’ by Motiivi: Tuntematon

Would you believe me if I said that it’s too hot to write anything?
Cos it is

Sdtrk: something from the Space channel 5 part 2 ‘Non-stop remix’ Cd, playing in my head

I’m currently typing this post from my campus lab, where I’m in between homework assignments. I’ve just checked ‘Shouting etc etc’ from the lab computers, which are all equipped with Micro$quish Internet Exploder, and I am appalled at how utterly fucked this site looks with that browser. About a fifth of the way into the ‘You’ve got questions, we’ve got.. I dunno’ post, the text arbitrarily increases about a size and a half. Lovely.

Do yourself a favour; get Firefox. It’s possibly the best browser out there, the add-on extension capability it has is sexy, and most importantly, it doesn’t make this site look like it was written and composed by a complete troglodyte.

More later, perhaps possibly maybe

Sdtrk: ‘To Alison’ by Ecstasy of St.Theresa

You know what I like doing? Getting into the left-hand lane in front of an SUV and driving slowly. The feckers deserve it, frankly.

I’ve never liked sport utility vehicles. They’re overly large, horribly inefficient with fuel, and 95% of them are just plain ugly (with the exception of the Aztek and the H2O, both of which somewhat resemble vehicles that SHADO would’ve used). However, it’s recently struck home with me why so many people feel compelled to purchase the damned things. I was showing my friend Mari some pictures of the various pre-2000 Mini Coopers, and she was astonished at how small it was. ‘How could you drive something that small?’ she asked. ‘I’d be afraid that I’d get crushed under somebody’s tires!’ However, that whole mindset really came screeching to my attention when I happened to catch something on a local newscast recently:

Smart Car Promotion Draws Criticism

You’ve seen the ads where Casino Windsor is giving away three smart cars, but did you catch that tiny print? Right at the bottom, the ad says “not street viable in U.S.A.”

The smart car, sold in Canada, has a small diesel engine and a little motor that does not meet U.S. emissions regulations, and U.S. Customs won’t let it in the country.

In Detroit, there are signs advertising the promotion, but if you win, you won’t be able to drive your prize in the United States. Casino Windsor said despite all the advertising, the rules are clear.

If an American customer wins the car, he or she has an alternative to take $14,000 in Canadian money instead.

There were plans to import the cars at one time, but right now, the plans are on hold.

Now, I’m seeing the sentence ‘The smart car, sold in Canada, has a small diesel engine and a little motor that does not meet U.S. emissions regulations’, and reading it as ‘The smart car is not vast and heavy enough to compete with our ridiculously large vehicles, and as we don’t really want people to be flattened like pancakes by an Escalade, the US cannot allow it on the roads’. They could’ve added ‘Three days’ worth of fuel for an SUV would keep a smart car running for three months,’ but that wouldn’t be entirely professional.

It’s really struck me why most Americans just don’t buy smaller vehicles. They want something larger that they’ll feel ‘safe’ in. You’ve got some tosspot going, ‘Well, if I don’t drive something that takes up one and a half parking spaces, I won’t feel safe from someone else driving an SUV.’ So that tosspot buys an SUV, wherein someone else says, ‘Well, if he has a huge vehicle, I want something equally huge, otherwise I’ll get crushed under his wheels’. So that person buys an SUV. And so on, and so on. It’s the Arms Race, only on four wheels.

As far as I’m concerned, the argument ‘what if you need to haul around a family, or a lot of people?’ no longer applies. Go buy a station wagon. Remember those? They looked rather like long cars — I know it seems fantastical, but it’s true, they once existed, you can see them on Google. Besides, I’m fairly certain that most people who own SUVs probably don’t have more than five people in their family, anyway.

I suppose you could reason that I wrote this post due to the fact that I was shagged off that Smart cars aren’t street legal in the United states. But it just goes to show what kind of mentality we have driving round on the roads today. I guess people really dig having to spend $40 – $50 to fill their fuel tank each week. Reason no.478 to move to Toronto: Smart cars are legal.
If I had that kind of crazy disposable income, however, I’d rather buy a pre-BMW Mini, or a Fiat 500. I’d love to drive a smart car, but even I think they’re too small to own

Sdtrk: ‘Blue skied an’ clear’ by Slowdive

You can blame SafeT’s comments and excessive viewing of Zip Gun’s ‘The Day Today’ DVD for this ‘un.

ROUEN, FRANCE (AP) – The music and entertainment world was stunned when Michael Jackson, the 46-year old King of Pop and world-famous child-toucher, was fatally shot several times by an angry passerby.

Jackson was having what appeared to be an impromptu celebration, due to the dropping of his recent child molestation charges, at a restaurant called ‘Le Lapin Gonflé’, on the outskirts of Paris. According to eyewitnesses, Jackson made a protracted attempt to order crepes, when area cynic Jean-Jacques ‘Le Jacques’ Chirac walked up to the party’s table, pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket, and emptied the magazine into the singer’s chest.

‘The shooting itself just happened so fast,’ said Peter Hurpingerder, one of Jackson’s attendants. ‘Michael wanted to order ten pounds worth of crepes and cheese for all of us, but wanted to place the order in French. He never knew the language, so he was stuttering and mumbling his way through it for five minutes. The waiter asked him several times to please repeat what he had said, and with every repetition, Michael’s voice grew more and more faint and incomprehensible. He had just managed to stammer out “je suis le canard gigantesque”, when that guy from that table over there stood up, walked quickly towards Michael, and started shooting. I dropped my dinner roll in abject fear.’

‘I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to finish that roll,’ Hurderpinger added.

Jackson was hastily strapped onto a makeshift gurney and rushed to a nearby hospital, but it was too late. His body then began to slowly dissolve into a gooey flesh-coloured paste. Handlers carefully scooped the paste into a bucket, where it will be shipped back to Jackson’s Neverland Ranch following what passes for an autopsy.

Chirac, 38, was apprehended by local gendarmes and hustled to a nearby police station. Upon questioning if he had planned to assassinate the singer, Chirac lit a Gauloise and took a long, meaningful drag. ‘No,’ he answered in French, ‘I just wanted him to either speak up or shut up. His voice was like a high-pitched mumbling, like a fly stuck in my ear, endlessly saying nothing that I could understand. I am not sorry for what I have done, because life, she is like a crazy merry-go-round, and you can only hop on it once.’ As he spoke, the smoke from his cigarette wafted lazily through the room, much like the haze of questions that the reporters would surely have for him upon release to the general public.

Chirac then extracted a harmonica from his shirt pocket and played a stirring rendition of ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’.

Upon hearing the news of their brother’s demise, Jermaine, Tito, and Harpo burst into loud, messy sobbing. Neither Janet or her breasts could be reached for comment.

Sdtrk: ‘MTO’ by New order

Michael Jackson Found Innocent, Common Sense Shot Several Times in Face

I’ve not been keeping up with that case at all, cos ultimately I don’t really care, but again, I erroneously believed that right thinking would prevail.

California – Jurors in Michael Jackson’s child sex trial will not hear a former Neverland security guard’s explosive claim that he once fetched Vaseline for the singer’s implied sex acts with a youth, the court ruled on Thursday. [..] Former guard Kassim Abdool was prepared to tell jurors that he brought the “sweaty, aroused” singer a jar of Vaseline while he was in his bedroom with a 12- or 13-year-old youth, court documents said. (from this site)

Guess not! This sort of thing is why I don’t keep up with the news in general, cos I never really hear anything good..

Let’s talk about something else, shall we?
Having successfully returned from the eye doctor (her first name starts with an ‘S’, and not a ‘J’, as I’d mis-reported) with a clean bill of health, I stopped round to Meijer and grabbed the latest issue of .. err, it was PlayStation magazine, I believe. Normally I don’t buy videogame magazines, shockingly enough, but this month’s issue featured a demo disk for the new ‘Gundam vs Zeta Gundam‘ game. Practically anything dealing with the Universal Century timeline is fab, but a game featuring all of my favourite Mobile suits from Zeta?? I am wroth with froth. It’ll be out in late June, they say, so I’m guessing it’ll actually be out in early July.
And on the back of said magazine, there was an advert for ‘Samurai western‘, which is another must-buy for me, cos any game containing gratuitous dismemberment and the ability to deflect bullets with your katana equals winner in my book.. However, I didn’t think that’d be out this soon.. And I still haven’t picked up Devil may cry 3, or Red ninja, or GunGriffon Allied strike. And wahey, SoulCalibur 3 is due out this year! Grrr. Now I have to get a job..

And that’s the lot! Anyway, this post has achieved what I wanted it to do, which is bumping the previous post from the topmost slot. Bitterness is all well and good, but I don’t want casual viewers tuning in to ‘Shouting etc etc’, and mistakenly thinking they’ve clicked on a LiveJournal

Sdtrk: none, oddly enough. You’ll have to provide your own

Something occurred earlier this evening that was so irritating to me, that I delayed bedtime in order to post it and get it off my chest.

So earlier, I was on the phone with a (for the sake of argument) friend, that we’ll call Spike. Over the course of the conversation, he mentioned that he had given something that I bought as an Xmas present for him — a pair of action figures — to someone else. Heh.

As far as I’m concerned, this is something you do not do. You do not tell someone that you’ve given something that they bought for you to someone else. Perhaps if he hadn’t been born in a barn and had some sense of etiquette, manners, and common sense, he would’ve had the presence of mind not to blurt that out.

I can understand receiving something that you don’t necessarily want, and surreptitiously getting rid of it; that’s happened to all of us. But for fuck’s sake, you don’t tell the person. I’d like to give Spike the benefit of a doubt and say that he forgot that I picked it up for him, but still, that’s just fucking idiotic.

That was good that I typed that out, as I’m no longer shagged off about it. I feel pretty confident that Spike will never see this, as he never reads ‘Shouting etc etc’ anyway. And he no longer has to worry, cos he won’t be getting anything from me ever again. ‘O, your Xmas present? O, I’m sorry, squire, I was too busy to pick one up. I’ll get right on it.’ Give me a fucking break