Movie trailer voice-over God Don Lafontaine died. See stories from People magazine and The Hollywood Reporter. You know you’ve heard the voice before, but might not know the name. OK, you might, if you saw that Geico commercial. Check out his Web site in case you don’t remember (just don’t skip the intro). And just for laughs: a parody from Frank TV.
An unintentional two-month plus break. Oof. Not good for the hit count ego. Finally upgraded my WordPress installation. Not that you’d notice much difference, but there’s a lot more cool stuff on the back end for writing, managing, etc. Some day, I may actually get around to mucking in the code and trying to write a plugin of my own. I have a few ideas, but since it has been years since I’ve done any coding, it will take me months to get up to speed (need to relearn PHP, CSS, etc.).
Maybe my next post won’t be two months away…
I run enough to maintain something of a shape (I know round is a shape), so I indulge my sweet tooth every once in a while. I had been craving a milkshake for a few days, and today was warm enough to justify it. Plus, I did run this morning. I stopped at the nearby Ben & Jerry’s scoop shop for a milkshake. The only flavor that they had that seemed reasonable enough for a milkshake was a sugar-free (but with Splenda) vanilla fudge chip, or something like that. The other stuff would have been way too chunky to drink through a straw. It was decent, despite being sugar-free.
But that damn Splenda really got to me this afternoon. Let’s just leave it at being around me hasn’t been too pleasant. I did a little searching, and it turns out that Splenda has some nasty side effects. See Splenda Side Effects, Dangers of Splenda #1, and Dangers of Splenda #2. I know I won’t be having it again.
An article in today’s Inquirer about direct wine shipments got me thinking: when the hell are they going to get around to doing this? Then I realized that I live in PA, the ass-backwards state when it comes to alcohol regulation. We still have an out-dated state system, in which you can buy beer by the case from certain distributors, maybe a six pack from some smaller outlets, and wine & hard stuff from the state stores. Throw in an 18% Johnstown flood tax – the big flood was 119 years ago; the tax added after a 1936 flood (see the Johnstown Flood Museum, a Wikipedia article, the National Park Service site, and a story on the tax itself) – and you wind up with an often over-priced lame-assed selection. The argument that PA is the largest alcohol buyer in the country really doesn’t help with a poor selection. While some state stores have respectable wine sections, I should still be able to order directly from an out of state winery of my choosing.
Repealing the tax is unlikely, due to greedy and unimaginitive legislators, who can’t find another way to make up the revenue. And permitting direct shipping is also unlikely – too many “interested parties” wouldn’t get their drink at the trough (the pun is accidental, but apropos). But they won’t tell you that they’re upset about not getting their money; they will couch it in terms of avoiding having alcohol be delivered directly to minors. This is really a bullshit argument, since what teenager is going to wait for weeks to get wine delivered when they can use a fake ID or have someone buy beer for them?
My office is located next to the sales office for the condo 10 Rittenhouse here in Philly. They’ve started building it, but haven’t sold all of the units yet. So they’re amping up the sales pitches, including throwing preview parties (or something like that) in their office. Though I suspect they may be getting a little desperate. At tonight’s event and the most recent event, they’ve added a few reception hotties to the mix. I haven’t seen these women in the hallway or around the office before, so I assume that they’ve been imported for the occasion.
Just goes to show you: it doesn’t matter what you sell, but sex still sells it.
As for the title of this post (stolen from The Man Show), that could be the next step if they need to sell more condos. Impractical with a 10 foot ceiling, but what the hell.
Normally, I’m perfectly OK with the occasional corny April Fools’ joke, prank, etc. It’s to be expected. Though I do expect some originality/creativity. At least I’ll give credit for a good attempt, but weak execution. I came across the lamest attempt at humor today, via CNET (not exactly known as a bastion of mirth). Not only did this “farce” suck, they had to include a disclaimer at the bottom (“Editor’s note: Remember, today is April 1, a day reserved in the U.S. for some levity.“; their emphasis and link.) You know, it’s not really a joke if you have to explain it.
Tonight, we went out for dinner at The Ugly American, which is just a few blocks away. On the way back, Victoria suddenly said “Cabbage patch!” and started doing the Cabbage Patch dance (I’m not sure which is the more lame link: Wikipedia or this “instructional” video) as we were walking down the street. Aren’t kids great?
I’m referring to the Cyber Apocalypse, of course. Now, I’m not normally a doom-sayer, as I think such things as reserved for street corner prophets (read: crazy people). But three signs over the weekend, one on each day, have led me to believe that we’ll all pretty much screwed.
Sharpen those survival skills!
Can it really be true? Was it some figment of my imagination? Read the post and see for yourself. While I didn’t comment on all the Crazy Apple Rumors, I’ve been a loyal reader for some time now (I forget how long). I will miss Jennifer frickin’ Connelly, Pudding over IP, and speculation about when Apple will introduce Lesbian Ninja Sexbots. If none of this makes any sense to you and you think I’ve completely lost my mind, you’ve never read CARS. Shame on you. :-p
After spending the weekend doing stuff around the house, with the tremendous help of my father in law (Thanks, Ed!), we’re just about ready for Cletus to arrive. We just need to hang a few pictures and other decorations and the room will be all ready. Then there’s a real name to pick out, since Cletus Ann just won’t cut it. I think I’m more tired from lifting stuff, moving stuff, hanging stuff, drilling into walls, and generally being on my feet and moving all day that I would otherwise have been if I went into the office and worked. It’s a nice change – I should try it more often. 