All $pammerz Must Die!!!

Hard To Say Which Is Worse, Politicians Or Spammers...

I am not by nature or inclination a violent person. However, I do have the capacity for violence in me. Lots and lots of the lovely ultraviolence, my droogs...

F'rinstance, let's talk about those subhuman shitbags known as email spammers.

I am so tired of getting ads for peni$ pills and free African Dictator money and Central American condominiums in my inbox, that I'm seriously considering tracking down a spammer and having my way with him.

Here's what I'd do:

First, I'd shoot the spammer with a tranquilizer gun, and tie him up tight.

Then, I'd find a large tree stump about crotch-high.

While the spammer is still out cold, I'd use about a dozen bridge spikes to nail his legs to the stump. Less struggling that way.

Here's a bridge spike:



Make sure you insert the chisel point vertically, to minimize the risk of splitting the leg bone. You don't want your spammer to flop over, after all.

Failing to find any suitable spikes, I'll grind a point onto a dozen 1 foot lengths of 3/8" rebar and use those instead.

Next, once he's awake, I'd extract his package from his trousers, glue his johnson to his belly with epoxy mixed with cayenne pepper and ground-up fiberglass, and then gather up a large swath of his scrotum in a sheet metal clamp.

This is a sheet metal clamp:



Then, it's time to stretch the scrote across the top of the stump, and anchor down the clamp.

What you should end up with, assuming all is done correctly, is about a square foot of scrotum stretched over the stump, with two balls tethered underneath, like two beach balls under a blanket.

Now, out comes the finishing hammer. You usually use these for sheet metal work. Not too heavy, with a big broad head. Looks like this:



Taking the hammer firmly in hand, it's time to start playing Whack-A-Mole. This should be good for a few hours of amusement.

Next, I'd use a fish-killing spike to make about 10 deep holes across his shoulders and back.

This is a fish-killing spike, used to dispatch marlin, swordfish, tuna, etc. after dragging them aboard a fishing vessel:



In the holes made by the spike, I'd jam a speculum type of gizmo to spread the hole wide, then push in a 4/0 treble hook far enough so the skin closes over the barbs.

This is a treble hook:



Next, it's badger time.

This is a European badger.



They are mostly gentle and inoffensive. I will not be using this type of badger.

No, I will be using the American badger. They look like this:



Their attitudes match their teeth, all spiky and grotty-brown. I will ensure this antisocial attitude is reinforced by making them watch 'Oprah' and 'The View' uninterrupted for 48-72 hours prior to use.

After donning plate mail and elephant-hide gauntlets, I will attach a badger to each of the treble hooks via a length of braided steel cable.

Once all the badgers are affixed, I will hose them down with a mixture of DMSO, methedrine, and habañero juice. Some might splash on the spammer. C'est la vie...

I anticipate in the effort to establish badger dominance, they should tunnel through the spammer several times in 10 minutes or less. It would go quicker, but a few will have to gnaw through the pelvis & rib cage first.

I'm also thinking of setting up bleachers and selling tickets. First 100 buyers will get a large can of Badger-B-Gon as well as a complementary poncho to ward off splattering body fluids.

Reckless Mediation

For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread...

There was a blogpost up for a brief amount of time yesterday where a blogger on my sidebar absolutely cut loose on another one. No names, and I'll excise any tattletales in the comments. If you missed it, you missed it.

I for one was glad to see comments disabled on the post. One of my bad habits is to immediately try to apply the El Capitan Spatula Of Mutually Respectful Discourse to try and smooth over the rough cracks that have suddenly emerged on the emotional landscape.

That the Spatula almost invariably ends up rammed up my arse sideways by one or the other (or both) of the participants by the end of the donnybrook is a fact that somehow I keep forgetting.

It's been a lesson that took many painful years to learn, and I'll hand it to you for free.

When two friends are at odds with each other, it almost always does no good to try and step in the middle, no matter how desperately you want to help.

Axiom: The longer and/or more intimate the relationship between the arguing pair, the less business you have trying to mediate, or even offer advice.

Corollary to the axiom: Your chances of coming out with skin and relationships unscarred after sticking your nose in unasked lie in direct proportion to the length of your relationship with BOTH the participants. For your sake, this had better be measured in decades.

I don't want to sound like I'm washing my hands of the situation. I'm not. It's upsetting, and I grieve for the loss of harmonious accord between the two. From my experience, though, venturing in where you're not asked is akin to walking into a minefield blindfolded while wearing concrete snowshoes. Long-buried skeletons litter the field, and an unwary misstep can unearth or detonate dormant issues that would have best been left alone.

No matter how good a friend you are, think you are, or want to be, you aren't privy to even a fraction of the relationship. Even if you're not immediately told to bugger off and MYOB, you are often urged to choose a side, and you sometimes end up defending unconscionable behavior in order to not "betray" a friend.

For now, I can only pray for a mutually equitable solution to be worked out between them, and hope that both participants understand why I didn't immediately offer up $2 worth of free advice.

Agree? Disagree? Comments are open...

Counting Noses

How Many Peons Does It Take To Make A Horde?

I know this probably won't interest you. After years of dealing with it, my own interest has certainly waned.

OTOH, if you've ever wondered just how many people it takes to keep a major metropolitan city running, this might be informative.

Employees By Department - FY2007:

Airport System - 1538
Affirmative Action - 31
Convention & Entertainment Facilities - 170
City Council Office - 66
City Secretary - 10
Controller's Office - 74
Emergency Center (911) - 240
Finance & Administration - 335
Fire Department - 4182
General Services Division - 287
Health & Human Services - 1128
Housing & Community Development - 128
Human Resources - 105
Information Technology - 129
Legal - 206
Mayor's Office - 67
Municipal Courts Administration - 290
Municipal Courts Judicial - 41
Parks & Recreation - 787
Planning & Development - 102
Police Department - 6329
Public Library - 455
Public Works & Engineering - 3926
Solid Waste Management - 611

Total - 21237

City Population - 2,144,491
City Employees as % of Population - .9% (Nine tenths of one percent)

Now, given my druthers, I'd eliminate Affirmative Action, Health & Human Services, and Housing & Community Development and roll those functions over to the County or State.

I'd privatize Airport, Convention, IT, most of Legal and Courts Admin, & Solid Waste.

I'd merge Controller and F&A, Secretary and Council Office, Planning and General Services, and 911 and Fire.

Small wonder the union wants nothing to do with me...

Words, Words, Words...

Don't Go Looking In Webster's For These!

These words ought to be in common usage, I'm thinking...

Logarhythym - The science of timing your bunghole contractions in order to produce a splash-free download.

SackRed & Profane - Your physical and mental condition after sitting on your own testes due to an aging and gravity-challenged scrotum. (Ask Og about this one...)

Pfloogers - Those colorful and mucilaginous gumdrop-sized snotwads that only appear when you've got a really bad case of the flu or pneumonia.

BogFog - That stench from the bathroom across the hall at work that comes creeping into your office on little cat feet after someone's spent 45 minutes drilling for mudbunnies.

Virtueossify - Remaining celibate for so long that your naughty bits turn to stone.

Cryptoshagography - Decoding your sex history by translating the pattern of "wet spot" stains on the mattress.

Doggy Dominance

You Don't See Cats Behaving This Way...

Well, ya learn something every day...

I knew dogs always worked out a pecking order in the pack, and that the biggest dog wasn't automatically the alpha. I even knew that male dogs tended to hump anything that would hold still for it.

I was not aware that female dogs played their own humpy games. Go figure...

Anyway, the whole sordid scene is played out over at Rachel Lucas's site. I got a giggle out of it, almost as much of one as seeing those dogs suffer through their frequent costume changes!

Solving Your Crab Problem

I'm Feeling A Bit Crabby This Weekend

I got this recipe for a crab salad via email, and it sounds so good I think I'll head to the store and gather all the necessary fixin's tomorrow.

I have to admit, I'm a relative newcomer to radishes. I grew up thinking they were hot like a chile pepper, and you usually saw them used as a garnish with decorative slices cut into them that invariably dried out and withered, making eating one a distasteful proposition.

Once I grew to like spicy foods in my teen years, red radishes, rarely hotter than a very mild horseradish, are now eagerly snarfed down, though they do have a tendency to promote intestinal turbulence.

If you're absolutely opposed to radishes or crab, I imagine you could substitute water chestnuts and shrimp and still arrive at a respectable result.

So, without further ado, here's Crab, Orange and Radish Salad, lifted from Wine Spectator's recipe collection.

Crab, Orange and Radish Salad

• 3 large oranges
• 1 bunch red radishes
• Salt and freshly ground pepper
• 12 ounces fresh crab meat
• 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• Chopped Italian parsley or sprigs of watercress

With a sharp knife, trim the peel off the oranges, removing all the white part and exposing the orange flesh. Working over a bowl, cut along either side of the membranes to cut the oranges into wedges. Let the orange sections drain in a colander or sieve over the bowl, and be sure to reserve all the juice. Cut the stems off the radishes and slice them thin. Arrange radishes and oranges in overlapping slices and rings on a large glass platter. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper.

Pick over the crab to remove any bits of shell. Put the crab in a bowl.

Place the reserved orange juice (you should have about 3 tablespoons) in a small screw-top jar and add the lemon juice, oil and mustard. Cap tightly, and shake vigorously until completely blended—it will be a smooth mixture, with no separation. Moisten the crab with the dressing, seasoning with salt, pepper and parsley. Moisten the oranges and radishes with the remaining dressing. Just before serving, make a small pile of crab on top of the oranges and radishes. Garnish with more parsley or watercress.

Serves 4. (Actually, it's gonna serve just me...)

Go, Go Gadget Gracie!!

I Loves Bionic Nieces To Pieces!

Some LOLBaby to start off the weekend. My niece Grace tries out some of her aftermarket add-on accessories!

Some Book News & Reviews

Get Your Read On!

OK, here's some free stuff... (Via Boingboing)

1) Fans of Firefly? Got a Browncoat hanging in the closet?

You'll like this, then! A free Firefly novel!

OK, it is fanfiction, I will admit. However, it's fanfic by a reasonably well-known fantasy author named Stephen Brust. I've read two or three of his novels, and they're good reads.

He decided he had to jump into the Firefly 'verse, and the result is shiny!

Go here to download it in .pdf or .doc format. I've read it, it's almost as good as watching an episode!


2) I know I've mentioned this next book before, as have other bloggers. It's called 'Old Man's War' by John Scalzi, and it's one of the best SciFi novels I've read in years.

If you go here and sign up for the Tor Books mailing list, you'll get a chance to download it for free, and also more free books once a week.


3) Not free, but well worth your time is a novel called 'The Ruins', by Scott Smith. I wrote about his first novel called 'A Simple Plan' some time back, and this is his new one. Apparently he puts out one book every 15 years, but this was worth the wait!

I read a blurb about the book by Stephen King, who called it "the best horror fiction of the new century" or something close to that, and picked up a copy cheap on eBay.

I started reading about 11 pm last Saturday night, and didn't stop until I was finished, sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

What's most unsettling about the book is that there's no guessing what's ahead. You know going in that it's a horror novel, and you read and you read, and it's like waiting for that damn cat to jump out yowling and scare the shit out of you. You know the monster's finally going to appear, then it doesn't. Until it does. But you really weren't expecting it at that point, so you shit yourself. And then, the horror never stops, so you've just got to sit there, eyes bugged out, covered in shit, until the bitter end.

Just read it! Wear a diaper!


4) Finally, if you have a Half Price Books in your neck of the woods, they should have a short stack of books in their SciFi section entitled 'Freedom!', edited by Martin Greenberg & Mark Tier. The store nearest the office had 5 copies, and they usually send equal amounts to the various branches.

It's an omnibus edition of two previous books, 'Give Me Liberty' and 'Visions Of Liberty', each a collection of short stories with personal liberty and freedom as a central theme. The first book's stories are pulled from old-school SF authors, and the second one's from more recent sources.

It's only $5, and you'll get 100 times that value from the ideas within.

Adios To Sparky The Cadillac

Alas, No Viking Funeral For the Caddy...

Well, it took 15 months for it to happen, but Sparky The Flaming Cadillac is finally gone.

As originally reported here way back in November of 2006, there was a deal worked out to trade the Caddy for some construction & painting labor by a local handyman I've long since dubbed Carlos The Unreliable.

Carlos The Unreliable is the epitome of the "mañana" attitude that's supposedly a mean, nasty stereotype perpetuated by racist gringos. This gringo, however, has been stood up by Carlos so many times that the only way the stereotype would be more stereotypical is if Carlos The Unreliable actually wore a serape and sombrero, and siesta'd away the day leaning up against an adobe wall whilst mumbling something about not needing no steenkin' badges.

Carlos The Unreliable's plan was to give the Caddy to Carlos The Unreliable, Junior. Alas, Carlos The Unreliable, Junior got into some juvenile shenanigans, and for the last 15 months was Carlos Jr. the Incarcerated.

Upon Carlos Jr. The Incarcerated's release, Carlos The Unreliable's interest in the Caddy and manual labor reawakened, and the agreed-upon work was completed.

Also, I got ratted out to the City by some gotdam busybody neighbor for having a derelict car in the driveway, so it was kind of a "now or never" deal for Carlos.

I awoke at the crack of noon on Sunday, and Sparky the Caddy had already gone off to its new home. Towed off or driven off, I'm not sure which, but it's gone, which is all that matters.

Vaya con Dios, Sparky!

Butt-blogging Trifecta

Why Wait For That Third Shoe To Drop, Earthling!

One of my many errands on Friday was a trip to the Doc so he could change the oil, rotate the tires, and have a look under the hood.

All in all, it could be worse. He had the results of my Xmas Eve emergency room blood test, and pulled more blood to get a more timely check of the State Of The Fluids situation.

From the Xmas test, (which I'd not gotten the results of...) my cholesterol levels were good. My blood sugar & A1C levels are OK. Not great, but OK. I still haven't managed to swear off chilidogs yet. Blood pressure was 128/76, so that set of meds is keeping my head from asploding.

One spot of concern was a touch of anemia. This seems to be common in women that have regular visits from Aunt Flo, but not so much in men. I asked what might be causing it, picturing in my mind the pounds of red meat I consume weekly, along with eggs, dried apricots, spinach and other iron-rich foods.

"Well, Cap," said the Doc, "You could be losing blood through your digestive tract. Bleeding ulcer, polyps, any number of things. You're what... 39? Just about time for you to start having the annual finger-up-your-ass exam!"

I could almost swear he sounded gleeful...

He starts to go on about scheduling a visit to the proctologist, and describing the TV camera up da butt procedure, and I'm sort of in a cold sweat, 'cause I'm one of those guys that's got a pretty ironclad "EXIT ONLY" strategy pertaining to my bunghole.

Suddenly, a thought occured to me... "Say, Doc." sez I. "You know all those nosebleeds I was having in December, that you prescribed the saline wash and antibiotic cream for? They were cropping up several times a week prior to the ER visit Xmas eve. Think that'd be enough to throw up an anemia flag??"

He thought for a minute. "Yup, that'd do it. Let's put the proctologist on hold for now."

I breathed a sigh of relief. So did my bunghole. It was kind of embarrassing...

Another Horrible Tattoo

Continuing The Butt Blogging Theme...

I can't even imagine how much of a cat lover you have to be to allow this to be inked permanently on your carcass.



(Be thankful you're not getting this pic at full resolution...)

Happy Valentine's Day!

Love For The Masses From Big Red Asses!

I saw this at I Can Has Cheezburger, and knew it must be reposted as my official Baboon Pirates 2008 Valentine's Day greeting!

Well, If You Insist...

Would You Like Fries With That?

I like a man that knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to ask for it!

Silly Party Games

It's A Crazy/Busy Week, No Time For Fancy Blogposts!

Someone print this out and play it at the next blogmeet.

(Don't giggle too hard, Erica! Next up: Pin the blue tongue on the Joooette!)

The Subtitled Hallelujah Chorus

Boring Friday? YouTube To The Rescue!!

I am *so* glad it's late on a Friday afternoon, and there's no one on this side of the floor to hear me laughing!

Oh, dear... I'm literally wiping tears of laughter out of my eyes as I type this.

This is a performance by the Dallas, TX based Turtle Creek Chorale.

The nun habits and cue cards were enough to make it amusing. The choreography is what's absolutely killing me!

I don't know that doubling and almost tripling the tempo towards the end helps musically, but it certainly adds to the performance!

Go have a watch!

Pulling The Plug

Tales From The Memory Vault

Kids can be such bastards.

Way back in the day, I was a member in good standing of Boy Scout Troop ₤∑Ω in the Mustang District of Sam Houston Area Council.

(Non-Scouters, just ignore the BSA jargon, the tale will still make sense!)

Every summer, as the troop had for the previous 30-odd years, we would embark for a week of camp, located along the Blanco River in the Texas Hill Country.

Our campsites were always the same, three sites alongside the river road, nearest the commissary.

Though you could still find long-drop outhouse latrines in the more remote regions of the reservation, the campsites had been upgraded to have both running water and a septic tank system. Each campsite had a two-toilet shitter and a multi-spigot trough sink. This was all mounted on a big concrete slab with rough wood walls and roof, and a separate concrete slab set a dozen yards off contained a large metal grate secured by a padlock. This was the access hatch to the septic tank.

Early each spring, about 8 weeks prior to summer camp, the older scouts would surreptitiously pull the youngest scouts in the troop aside for some pointed questions. Questions such as "How long can you hold your breath?" and "Does spinning on a rope make you dizzy?" They would be test-fitted for climbing harness rigs, and extra emphasis was given in making sure they knew how to tie a taut-line hitch and a bowline.

On the last monthly campout before summer began, there would be an evening where the new scouts would be quietly herded to a far corner of the campsite, far from adult prying eyes. Blindfolded, they were held suspended by their britches, and would have to flail around until they grabbed the handle of a Dutch oven full of water or sand (a 20-25 lb burden) set in front of them and lift it up into the air. They were never told why this was necessary, but every so often an older Scout would let slip the phrase "Pulling the plug", then be quickly hushed up by his patrol mates.

Eventually, either on the Sunday morning bus ride to camp, or after dinner on the first night, the tale would be leaked to a couple of the more gullible new Scouts, who would quickly spread it to all their patrol. (A patrol is an 6 to 10 boy subunit in the Scout troop. Each troop has 3-8 patrols, depending on enrollment.)

There would be a contest among all the troop's patrols. Each patrol's performance in the swim meet, camp inspections, merit badge completions, participation in the overnight Death March, etc. would be taken into account in the overall rankings. The winning patrol got a year's bragging rights. The losing patrol had to draw straws, and short straw had to, before leaving camp on Saturday morning, pull the plug.

In our troop, all the new Scouts were automatically put in the Pedro Patrol. (Pedro was a burro, the Boy's Life magazine mascot, based on the Philmont Scout Ranch burros) When you achieved your first rank advancement, you were 'promoted' up and out of the Pedro Patrol and integrated into one of the other six or seven 8-man patrols, usually with a much cooler patrol name.

Since the Pedros had mostly new Scouts, they were informed that it was almost certain that they would come in dead last in the troop competition. Thus, it was a foregone conclusion that one of the new Scouts would be the one selected to pull the plug.

"Pulling the plug", as told with great glee by the older Scouts, was where the lucky Scout selected was strapped naked into a climbing rig, mask & snorkel, then squeezed through the unlocked grate and lowered down into the cesspool. This pool of sludge and sewage was advertised as being between 3 and 6 feet deep, depending on the number of scouts and the quality of that week's messhall chow.

The plug-puller had to take a deep breath, submerge himself, then root around for the plug's handle. Only a mighty heave would break it loose and allow that week's worth of sewage to enter the giant drain pipe that would carry it to the sewage treatment plant in San Marcos. It HAD to be done. No exceptions.

Needless to say, the new Scouts were each a panicky basketcase by Monday morning.

All week long, as the patrol scores grew more disparate, the heat was slowly turned up on the new Scouts. Subtle hints like "You oughta go beg the commissary for a can of Crisco to smear on yourself... I hear it keeps the stink from getting too deep into your skin..." and "Y'all better go light on breakfast Saturday, someone's sure to be puking like a fire hose before lunch..."

Oh, we were such bastards...

Then again, it got done to us when we were newbies, along with being sent off to procure left-handed smoke shifters, tent locks, and 50 feet of shoreline. No snipe hunts, though. We weren't THAT gullible.

To my knowledge, no new Scout ever had a nervous breakdown, or left camp early as a result of the plug-pulling story. It usually took until Thursday night or Friday afternoon before one of them got the cojones to go ask a Scoutmaster or one of the camp rangers, who then blew the whistle on the whole affair.

It wasn't all for laughs, though. Usually, the new Scouts performed at an amazing level all week, and by the end of the week they could usually score more points than one of the older (and lazier) patrols!

So, motivation through outright fear! Sounds like several jobs I've had...

Where The Wild Things Are, Houston Edition

It's Either This, Or TPS Reports. You Choose...

It's long been a dream of mine to arrive at work in a gorilla suit.

(For maximum amusement, ya gotta pronounce it Go-rilla, like Ellie Mae Clampitt!)

I don't doubt I could get as much notoriety via a chicken suit, or even a Landshark outfit, but something about a full-body gorilla suit, complete with rubber go-rilla hands and big flappy go-rilla feet just tickles my funnybone.

I'd even wear a tie, and hang my ID lanyard around the neck. I'd probably have to pull off the head to get through security, but that'd be OK. I'm sure I'll be in the minority that finds the whole affair amusing, but even the sourpusses that inhabit these offices would have to admit there's nothing in the dress code that addresses the wearing of gorilla suits!

I would have an absolute ball doing my usual office routine, answering emails, taking phone calls, and having people do the world's biggest double-take as they walked by my office door. Going to lunch down in the tunnels would be a hoot as well.

Alas, quality gorilla suits run upwards of $400, so it's a dream I'll have to postpone for a while.

Here's how a day at the office in a gorilla suit might play out, using Maurice Sendak's 'Where The Wild Things Are' as inspiration...

The day El Capitan wore his gorilla suit and made mischief of one kind


and another


his boss called him "DUMBASS!"
and El Capitan said "LICK MY BANANA!"
so he was sent to his office without any lunch.


That very afternoon in El Capitan's office a stack of paperwork grew


and grew--


and grew until his file cabinets bulged and exploded
and the floors became a sea of photocopies and printed emails.


and The Man's flunky ambled by with a class facilitation request for El Cap.
So El Cap drove off through Houston's grimiest ghettoes.


and in and out of crappy neighborhoods
and almost out to Lake Houston
to where the wild things are.


And when he came to the godforsaken facility where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their meth-rotted teeth and squinted their yellow bloodshot eyes and whiffed their terrible smells and asked for tree fiddy.

till El Capitan said "CHILL!"
and tamed them with a magic trick
of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once
whilst pulling out his magical switchblade
and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all.


and made him king of all wild things.
"And now," cried El Capitan, "get that filthy squeegee off my windshield!"


"Now go!" El Capitan said and sent the wild things off to Popeye's Chicken for a two piece & a biscuit.
and El Capitan the king of all wild things was lonely
and wanted to back amongst the educated and recently bathed.
Then even from far away from downtown's lofty towers
he could smell prosperity and hygiene
so he gladly got the hell out of where the wild things are.


But the wild things cried, "Oh please don't go--
we'll fix you up with an eightball and get you a clean 'ho!"
And El Capitan said, "No!"


The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their meth-rotted teeth and squinted their yellow bloodshot eyes and whiffed their terrible smells and again asked for tree fiddy. but El Capitan stepped into his pickup truck and gave them the finger.


and drove back over miles of bad road
and in and out of slums and squalor
and through an afternoon


and into the evening he arrived back at his very own office
where he found his lunch waiting for him


and it was still hot.

Some People Are Just... Different...

I Don't March To A Different Drummer, I March To Well-Timed Artillery.

I was reading a blog on my sidebar recently, and in a recent post that had nice things to say about me, I saw the following said in the comments (also about myself):

I'm a big fan of El Cap, too. And I'm not sure why, either. He just has such a twisted, unconventional view of the world - my kinda guy.

Flattering, to be sure, but still vaguely disconcerting.

Am I really that far off center? I know I'm not known for following trends, but I dunno if I'd go so far as to say I'm twisted.

Then again, maybe that description is appropriate. After all, how many people long to have a private library, full of leather seating and dark walnut shelves, with a pissoir secreted behind a hidden door so I wouldn't have to quit reading and traipse across the house in search of a bathroom. Ditto for the garage work area.

I'm all the time having my brain run off in weird tangents, only rarely related to what I'm actually engaged in.

Case in point: I recently saw this documentary about cuttlefish, and it spawned about an afternoon's worth of thought on the subject of cuttlefish mating.

See, when cuttlefish mate, the male of the species uses a tentacle to lodge a packet of sperm deep inside the female's mantle. He'll do the deed, then hang around to guard against other males. He's still got to hunt & eat, though, so occasionally, he's got to leave her side.

It's not unknown for an interloping male to take advantage of a missing cuttlefish "husband", and grab a little tentacle nookie of his own.

The returning cuttlefish husband can somehow figure out if there's been some unfaithful behavior on the part of the cuttlefish "wife". It might be pheromones in the water, it might be rumpled bedsheets, or perhaps a stray tentacle poking out from underneath the closet door. This sends the husband into a frenzy of jealous jizz-cleaning.

He grabs the female by the tentacles, and uses his own tentacles to sweep her mantle cavity free of any sperm packets. Some species use their propulsion jets to literally hose out the female, to make sure no foreign sperm remains. He then re-mates with the female, and this process repeats pretty much every time he leaves to go get a crab sandwich.

Now, most people would watch this documentary and say "Interesting. Now,on to my regular life".

Nope, not me. Instead I spend quite a bit of time imagining what life would be like if humans evolved to have cuttlefish mating habits. How different a path your life would have if you had to, every afternoon after work, drag out the wet/dry vac, the turkey baster and a toilet plunger and chase your wife around the house until you could corner her and commence to some diligent douchery. Imagine how exciting and damp a trip to the airport would be, to greet returning mates. Would we invent spousal flushing stations in public places?

So, twisted? Or just sorta creative? I just don't know...

Well, That Answers That Question...

Shel Silverstein Is Probably Buried Nearby.

116 Flicks

Here’s a complete waste of time, courtesy of Oddybobo and copied almost in its entirety from Elisson's site. How's that for concentrated laziness? It’s a Movie Meme, though I have to say the list is heavy on recent horror/kiddie/teenybopper fare, and light on classics and particularly westerns.

The rules are simple: Copy the list of movies below and mark off the ones you’ve seen. Add ’em up, and include the number in your post title. How easy is that?

Highlight the ones you’ve seen in boldface, should you feel like playing.

According to the meme progenitors, if you've seen over 85 movies, you have no life. My total is 116, but I freely admit to having no life!

Rocky Horror Picture Show
Grease
Pirates of the Caribbean
Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest
Boondock Saints
Fight Club
Starsky and Hutch
Neverending Story
Blazing Saddles
Universal Soldier
Lemony Snicket: A Series Of Unfortunate Events
Along Came Polly
Deep Impact
King Pin
Never Been Kissed
Meet The Parents
Meet the Fockers
Eight Crazy Nights
Joe Dirt
King Kong (1933)
King Kong (1976)
King Kong (2005)

Total so far: 16

A Cinderella Story
The Terminal
The Lizzie McGuire Movie
Passport to Paris
Dumb & Dumber
Dumber & Dumberer (filmed right here in May-Retta!)
Final Destination
Final Destination 2
Final Destination 3
Halloween
The Ring
The Ring 2
Surviving X-Mas
Flubber

Total so far: 19

Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
Practical Magic
Chicago
Ghost Ship
From Hell
Hellboy
Secret Window
I Am Sam
The Whole Nine Yards
The Whole Ten Yards

Total so far: 26

The Day After Tomorrow
Child’s Play
Seed of Chucky
Bride of Chucky
Ten Things I Hate About You
Just Married
Gothika
Nightmare on Elm Street
Sixteen Candles
Remember the Titans
Coach Carter
The Grudge
The Grudge 2
The Mask
Son Of The Mask

Total so far: 30

Bad Boys
Bad Boys 2
Joy Ride
Lucky Number Slevin
Ocean’s Eleven
Ocean’s Twelve
Bourne Identity
Bourne Supremacy
Lone Star
Bedazzled
Predator
Predator II
The Fog
Ice Age
Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
Curious George

Total so far: 43

Independence Day
Cujo
A Bronx Tale
Darkness Falls
Christine
ET
Children of the Corn
My Boss’s Daughter
Maid in Manhattan
War of the Worlds (1953)
War of the Worlds (2005)
Rush Hour
Rush Hour 2

Total so far: 49

Best Bet
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
She’s All That
Calendar Girls
Sideways
Mars Attacks!
Event Horizon
Ever After
The Wizard of Oz
Forrest Gump
Big Trouble in Little China
The Terminator
The Terminator 2
The Terminator 3

Total so far: 58

X-Men
X-2
X-3
Spider-Man
Spider-Man 2
Sky High
Jeepers Creepers
Jeepers Creepers 2
Catch Me If You Can
The Little Mermaid
Freaky Friday
Reign of Fire
The Skulls
Cruel Intentions
Cruel Intentions 2
The Hot Chick
Shrek
Shrek 2
Shrek 3

Total so far: 70

Swimfan
Miracle on 34th Street
Old School
The Notebook
K-PAX (Seen the original, called 'Man Facing Southeast')
Krippendorf’s Tribe
A Walk to Remember
Ice Castles
Boogeyman
The 40-Year-Old Virgin

Total so far: 73

Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
Lord of the Rings: Return Of the King
Raiders of the Lost Ark
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

Total so far: 79

Baseketball
Hostel
Waiting for Guffman
House of 1000 Corpses
Devil’s Rejects
Elf
Highlander
Mothman Prophecies
American History X
Three

Total so far: 84

The Jacket
Kung Fu Hustle
Shaolin Soccer
Night Watch
Monsters, Inc.
Titanic
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Shaun Of the Dead
Willard

Total so far: 88

High Tension
Club Dread
Hulk
Dawn Of the Dead
Hook
Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
28 days later
Orgazmo
Phantasm
Waterworld

Total so far: 96

Kill Bill, Volume 1
Kill Bill, Volume 2
Mortal Kombat
Wolf Creek
Kingdom of Heaven
The Hills Have Eyes
I Spit on Your Grave, AKA The Day of the Woman
The Last House on the Left
Re-Animator
Army of Darkness

Total so far: 101

Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope
Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi
Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace
Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones
Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith
Ewoks: Caravan Of Courage, AKA The Ewok Adventure
Ewoks: The Battle For Endor

Total so far: 107

The Matrix
The Matrix Reloaded
The Matrix Revolutions
Animatrix
Evil Dead
Evil Dead 2
Team America: World Police
Red Dragon
Silence of the Lambs
Hannibal

Final total: 116