Sunday, September 28, 2008

Newell Neologism Proper Usage

Several posts back I did a story on the words that my family has created, some neologisms, some portmanteaus, but mostly certified Newell and Tyndall jibberish. So now that you're equipped with the new vocabulary of emotive means, you'll want to know what each one means and proper usage. In defining these words, a definition will be given followed by a sentence giving the proper context.

Plum plum bee`tle`um (n). 1. A word denoting satisfaction.
2. A form of word play.
Ex: "After a delicious meal, our host raised his glass and declared 'Plum plum beetleum!'"

Un`cle`eed`le`un`cle`eed`le`un`cle`eed`le (interjection) 1. An exclamation declaring triumph or victory.
Ex: "Momma was about to whup me so I ran under the bed out of reach and yelled 'uncleeedleuncleeedleuncleeedle!'"

Sminch`ies (interjection, n.) 1. A mild expletive.
2. A multi-purpose noun.
Ex: "Upon bumping my head on the ceiling I screamed 'SMINCHIES' and promptly had my mouth washed out with soap."

Na`ked`y`mans (adj) 1. word describing the state of one's undress.
Ex: "Hey! Don't come in here! I'm nakedymans!"

Knot`head (n) 1. a bald-headed baby of indeterminate age.
2. An irascible rascal; rabblerouser.
Ex1: "Boy, that little knothead doesn't look to be more than three months old!"
Ex2: "That knothead slipped me Canadian pennies instead of real change!"

Ping Pong Choo Choo (n) 1. A phrase that describes current emotions or predicaments.
Ex: "I'm losing my ping pong choo choo mind."

Dut`ta (n) 1. a dog; cur; mutt; puppy.
Ex: "That dutta has rage issues with me."

Ma`ffle (n) 1. a portmanteau of "mouthful," dropping the digraph "th" and the vowel u.
Ex: "I'm hungry. Let us get a maffle of victuals."

Ha`rry Po`tty (proper n.) 1. A neologism for Harry Potter, much to the delight of the Newell children.
Ex: "Has anyone seen that latest Harry Potty film? *snicker, snicker*"

Cuss, cuss (interjection) 1. An euphemism for expletives.
2. What MacBeth's head yelled shortly after decapitation by MacDuff. From William Shakespeare's play Macbeth.
Ex1: "After hitting my thumb with the hammer, I screamed 'CUSS, CUSS' as loud I could."
Ex2: Macduff: "Despair thy charm; and let the angel whom thou still hast served tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb untimely ripp'd."
Macbeth: "Cuss, cuss."

See also "H"

The Sha`dy Mac`Dou`gal (n., v.) 1. A phrase describing an unforeseen turn of events, usually disadvantageous. 2. A person who commits an act of treachery. 3. (idiomatic) A fast one.
Ex1: "Did you see that guy steal my parking space? He just did the Shady MacDougal!"
Ex2: "I think there's a Shady MacDougal behind this money market crash."
Ex3: "For this next case, Your Honor, the defendant is accused by the state of committing a felony Class A Shady MacDougal." "A Shady MacDougal?! I won't allow that sort of nonsense in my court room!"

Bor bors (n) 1. Female breasts, usually of a Dolly Parton size.
Ex: "How come you're walking hunched over, Heidi?" "Oh, you know what they say, Liesel. Big bor bors, bad back!"

The Bull`slide (n) 1. A misinterpretration, mishearing, and misunderstanding of a dance popularized during the late 1970's known as "The Hustle."
Ex1: "Do the Bullslide!...or not."
Ex2: "How come no one wants to do the Bullslide with me?"

The`a (n) 1. A thing or object. Often used in conjuction with "cuss, cuss."
Ex: "Hand me that thea, cuss cuss!"

The Gee`zer (n., v.) 1. A dance popularized by a family member of the Newell clan in the early 21st century, performed by stamping the tip toes on hard pavement while grinding the hips back and forth, usually at foxtrot tempo. 2. To remove oneself from sticky situations.
Ex1: "I was with my boys down at Player's the other night when Lawrence Welk came on and we all just had to do the Geezer together."
Ex2: "I shouldn't have said the beer at Lucy's was bad, especially with the owner standing next to me with his bouncers." "So what did you do?" "I geezered my way on down the street!" See also: "The Shady MacDougal"

Herm`it Cur`mudg`e`on (n.) 1. A grumpster. 2. A person destined to be a spinster or old fart, at an uncommonly young age.
Ex1: "I'm mad at the world today." "Don't be such a hermit curmudgeon."
Ex2: "How come all you want to do is knit sweaters and booties out of cat fur for everyone? You're not becoming a hermit curmudgeon, are you?"

Too`ty toes (n.) 1. Toes.
Ex: "Yeowtch! Quit stepping on my tooty toes, Johnson!"

H (interjection) 1. The first letter of Hell; used as an expletive.
Ex: "This country is going to H in a handbasket."
Ex2: "My car just ran out of gas! H!"

And there you have it. A full definition of all the words that my family has created (or destroyed).

Ethiopian Dry Process Koratie

I'm going to have these coffee beans for part of my breakfast. I'll update what the tasting notes are like.

UPDATE: What I thought was a full city roast turned out to be a roast that was a shade darker than what I expected. This was strange because the beans were pretty light and consistent with what a FC roast would look like, but the coffee had a slight bitterness and burnt character to it that's reminiscent of common coffee at a French roast. Still, the cup was chocolate-y and had some fruit portion to its taste, along with honeydew and honey.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Uncle Trey's Children Stories: Greed and the Three Investment Bankers

Gather 'round, chillens! I've got another story to tell you, and it's better than the Christmas ones I rehash.
"Once upon a time in America, there were three investment bankers working at a bank on Wall Street. The eldest investment banker spied a Blackberry in a seat cushion in the coffee room, but this was no ordinary Blackberry! It was an updated model that was due to come out next year! The eldest of the investment bankers said, 'What joy! What good fortune has befallen us, us three merry friends? We shall share and share alike with our new find!' The second eldest said, 'Johnson, quit babbling like that,' and then to the youngest investment banker, he told him, 'Coscas, go out and get some fresh batteries for this Blackberry while we draw up the legal documents that entitle each of us to share the PDA equally.'
So Coscas went out to a Kinko's to get the batteries. He was tired of being played the chump by his two older partners, so he asked the salesman if he had any type of trick batteries. 'Well,' the salesman said, leaning in, 'We do have a few...interesting items that aren't exactly sellable to our regular customers. They're fraud batteries. If you want a new PDA or cell phone through work but you don't want to pay for a new model, all you do is put them in the device you want, and it'll burn the circuit up and your work will usually buy a new one for you.' Coscas gladly paid for the batteries and went on his way back to the office.
Meanwhile, Johnson was thinking that the PDA should belong to him since he found it first. He turned to his partner and said, 'Lann, what do you think about this document I drew up?' While Lann was examining it, Johnson took his Nalgene loaded with Evian and beaned Lann across the forehead with it. He then stuffed the knocked out body of Lann underneath his desk.
Johnson then rigged the photocopier to shine its beam out into the user's eyes, effectively blinding them. When Coscas walked into the office, Johnson saw him and said, 'Ah, Coscas! Glad you're back. Lann had to run out for a meeting, but he should be back shortly. I need you to sign this document, notarize it, and then get it copied.' Coscas did all of this, and when he went to use the copier the beam blinded him! 'AAAH' he yelled! 'My EYES!'
Johnson smiled and said, 'Bahaha! Lann and Coscas, you're both fools! I saw the Blackberry first! It's mine! And there's nothing you can do about it now! Coscas, you're now blinded so you can't use it. Lann's sporting an eggsized knot on his forehead and his eyes are so crossed that all he can see is his sideburns, so therefore since I'm the only one with unblemished vision, I should be the one who has the Blackberry!'
But Johnson in his greed shoved the batteries into the Blackberry, and began screaming as the Blackberry started melting and caught ablaze, burning and shocking Johnson's hands.
And so the three forgave each other and learned the folly of greed. And whenever a co-worker would ask them, 'Hey, where's your Blackberry?' Johnson would hold out his burned, trembling hands that could not use or work a Blackberry, Lann would point to his eyes which gave him no depth perception so his hands would constantly miss pushing the buttons on a Blackberry, and Coscas would point to his eyes which could not see the Blackberry's dark screen."

And so kids, the moral of this story is that greed doesn't pay.

Newell Neologisms

Someone commented to Lara that I was incredibly weird. I am, but to give you some idea of scope, my family's weirder. Here's a list of all the words they've made up:
"Plum plum beetleum"
"smurfyful Christmastime"
"dropped a bundle"
"jibber jabber"
"ping pong choo choo"
"suppertime chickies, boom boom boom"
"Harry Potty"
"Cuss, cuss"
"Oh, oh H!"
"Colder than a witch's mammary glands"
"the shady MacDougal"
"bor bors"
"Do the Bullslide"
"The geezer"
"Hermit Curmudgeon"
"tooty toes"

And that's all I can think of. I'm really debating whether I should provide the words in sentences for usage definitions or not.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

This week's sign of the apocalypse

This week's sign of the apocalypse. TV personality Ed McMahon is able to reinvent himself as a rap artist bemoaning a life of the streets and hustling, just to make a g so that his bank won't foreclose on his mortgage.
Apocalypse forecast: acid rain with a slight chance of thunder and lightning.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Children's stories from my point of view

Children's stories always fascinated me as a child. That was their point, anyway! Mostly of the illusory aspect to the stories...elves running around, women with long golden hair that was strong enough to withstand men climbing up on it. But I began to wonder what a story would be like if I wrote it? Gingerbread men having their legs amputated, Hansel and Gretel getting some kind of fungal infection from walking around the forest for so long, the three little pigs blowing the big bad wolf away with an Uzi?
So let me know how you'd think I'd write a children's story. Enquiring Minds want to know.

Hello God, is this thing on?

Hello God,

It's been awhile since I've talked to you. More like 6 weeks, actually. The last time I prayed to you, my shoes slipped on the slick alter and I kicked over the acolyte with my foot. Fortunately, the communion bread broke his fall, but it destroyed the Bible on the alter. Lord, why was the communion bread so hard that day? I don't think having the body of Christ stuck 4 inches into the Bible was causing any sort of imminent problem, but I tried to help out. Do you remember? I grabbed the Bible and dislodged the bread, but it was difficult to pry out of the pages, so it kind of got flung across the alter and knocked over the sacramental and Paschal candles. But you understand, God, and I know you forgive me for just trying to help out.
Lord, you've never told me why we have candles lit during service.
Anyway, and I know you remember this, a fire spread from the candles onto the carpet. I know a church is really the people, and not just a building, but I'm rather fond of my church, so I lept to my feet with Bible in hand and tried to beat the flames out with the Bible. The leatherbound cover with parchment sheets were very flammable. For my next business venture, I'm going to start promoting fire-proof Bibles with a flame retardent jacket and thin steel pages. My boss said he'd get back to me on that idea.
And I bet you know what happened next, God. The fire spread to the pulpit and the front of the pews very quickly. I've been told that flax carpet is flammable, but I must remonstrate that statement: it's exTREMELY flammable. But God, I witnessed its flammability that day. The preacher went over and tried to put out the flames that were licking the wooden pews. You must have listened to my pleas, because I'm sure you put the idea in my head to grab the chalice with the wine in it and throw it on the fire. It abated the fire long enough for the congregation to run outside and onto the street. It wasn't long at all until the priest's vestments caught on fire and I had to stomp the flames out. That might've worked better if the priest hadn't been wearing the vestments at the time. Anyway, he forgave me afterwards and we had a little chuckle over it, and said he would repay the favor to me the next time I caught fire.
The fire was now a conflagration, God, and I was blackened from all the soot. The priest took off and told me to follow suit. But I was determined to get the Bible and the cross on the altar. It was perfect timing, God, when I grabbed the Bible and Cross and the water sprinklers came on. This made me wet, and the soot on my hands got over everything. I tried to run outide, but the smoke made it very difficult, so I had to get on my hands and knees, coughing from all the smoke. The Baptist church across the street were just let out and they were gathering around to see the fire at our church. God, you're very forgiving of appearances. You would love me just the same if I were wearing a porkpie hat and a speedo. The Baptist church wasn't *quite* as forgiving as you are, though. I'm not sure who they thought I was, but it was certainly a person of ill-repute. Several old ladies whacked me with their handbags and purses; some of the old geezers hit me with their canes. I had to drop the cross and the Bible to cover my head from their blows, and they were obviously touched at seeing my brave efforts to save the altar cross and Bible, because they went and got holy water and started dousing the cross and the Bible with it. The Bible was smoking, true, but it didn't deserve the amount of water they were pouring on it, and the cross was metal, so I couldn't understand why they were pouring water on it. God, I think they were possibly trying to cool the cross off; it was kind of hot.
Anyway, you know what happens next, God. I told them the Bible wasn't on fire and didn't need to be drenched. But all that came out of my throat was a horrible low croaking sound which infuriated them. They started to douse ME with the holy water, but I began choking on the soot in my throat, and when I tried to take some of the holy water to drink (it was an emergency Lord, you understand), they shrank back and came forward with a wicker basket.
I didn't know what was in the basket, Lord; I thought it was perhaps a picnic basket filled with food and they had something to drink in it. I was disappointed when I stuck my hand in and pulled out a very large and very irate venomous snake. How did I know it was venomous? Why, the churchfolk of the Baptist church yelled to me that it was venomous and that if I were an actual God fearing man and not some guy they called "Bill Zabub", then I would be spared the serpent's bite.
God, you work in mysterious ways, but I've always understood that Bible passage to be figurative and not taken in a literal sense. And I always figured you endowed your creations with enough sense to leave large venomous snakes alone. But here I was, with a venomous snake slithering down my arm and into my shirt. It moved some of the soot off my arm and exposed my bronze skin. The Baptists then took a different tone with me and I was offered water and food, and one of the old geezers was kind enough to give me his jacket since my shirt and pants had holes burned into them. One of the old ladies gave me a peck on my check, another licked her handkerchief and grabbed my hair so I couldn't get away from her cleaning my face.
We all gathered around while the fire department put out the blaze and I caught up with the rest of my church. The priest had started a donation plate for a fund to refurbish the church and repair the damages, and when he saw me he also added that it could pay for hiking boots for me to wear in church, and everyone I saw donated to it.

Well, God, that's been my past month and a half in all things spiritual. How have things been with you? Busy? Heh heh. That's a little joke, I'm sure you're busy with the world. Anyway, I've gotta run to a contemporary worship session; I'm handling all the electronics and sounboard for the music, and I also want to get water for everybody in the band. It can get pretty hot up there praising the Lord. I'll keep you updated.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Teavana II

I knew it. I knew there was a reason why the saleswoman at the Teavana in Charlotte kept asking me if I wanted golden monkey tea along with 1/2 pound of various other sorts of tea (Golden Monkey tea is divine and priced accordingly. Teavana had their FOP grade priced at $20 per 2 ounces but I've seen prices vary from $5 per ounce up to $30). So I googled Teavana to see if anyone had good experiences with them ('Teavana sucks' brings up some interesting hits) and Wikipedia had a page on them that states:
The company places two points of emphasis on employees: Sales and Individuality. Sales results are updated daily on bulletin boards in each store, with emphasis on the amount of "rare" tea sold, its ratio to regular (lower priced) tea, the amount of "cast iron" sales, the number of teapots, tins to hold tea, and rock sugar. Keeping up with the theme of sales, payroll is given based on how well a store performs (if a store does well, there are more hours for the staff, and vice versa) and employee's receive a weekly grade, on a scale of A+, A, B, C, D, and F. Typically, employee's who do not consistently receive a B or higher are let go. After shifting from a half-store half-cafe setting, sales of just to-go cups of tea are looked down upon, as most sales should have add-ons.

Due to the sales focus, there are several key points employee's are taught to finalize the sales process with customers, namely "top-down-selling". If a customer selects a tea, employee's are to bring several higher quality/priced teas to compare for the customer. When purchasing tea, employee's are to start by giving a large price, such as for a whole pound, and work their way down. When purchasing tea, employee's push for the sale of tins to store the tea in, as the tin is airtight and light-tight, which does preserve taste and health benefit. Training teaches to not accept a no until either the third or fifth time, though most employees don't follow this rule. Most important for customers is to pay attention to the total price before paying, because tea is not returnable.

So this probably explains why the saleswoman gave me tea in a coffee type sack, told me I should buy a yixing pot, and spend $36 for 4 ounces of tea. I understand that the company has to make a profit, but I think they're going about it the wrong way to introduce America to teas from around the world. One thing they could press which I didn't see was giving demonstrations on the correct way to brew different teas, including guywans, cup infusers, and yixing pots, tasting notes for the different teas, and the actual price per cup of tea compared to coffee. Another thing that would establish their foothold in the nation's hot beverage consumption would be to offer starter packs at a discounted price and possibly establish some sort of quota with the Chinese tea factories so that a good portion of the fine teas that would go to independent vendors in the USA would go to Teavana.


Lara took me to Southpark in Charlotte and I got to go to Teavana. I've seen the store before but never gone in, so I was happy to see the cans full of loose leaf tea and people milling around not really buying anything. The sales lady was also happy to see me. "Have you ever been to Teavana before?" she asked. "No," I replied, and promptly tried to see through her since she was blocking my view of the teas that I wanted. She first tried to sell me something that smelled like Kool-aid, but came down after her sales pitch when I asked for Keemun and Lungching which was labelled as "dragonwell." I bought two ounces of the Keemun which she prompted me to buy 1/4 lb because it was being discontinued (after tasting a cup I can see why. Hopefully I'll get the brew time right), and 1/4 lb of lungching. And after I bought this much tea, she said, "you know, you should really brew these teas in a yixing tea pot. Why, I've brewed some of my black teas at home and blah blah blah." Beats me if the saleslady works on comission, but who knew tea could be pushed and hustled so readily?
I had a cup of the Imperial Keemun with water close to boiling and a steeping time of 3 minutes. It has a fairly smoky start to it, and a savory, leathery finish. It wasn't until the second infusion that I began to notice an actual familiar Keemun character: the floweriness that's not sweet, nor pungent, nor rustic, but similar to the scent of an orchid. It makes me think that it's actually a blend of Lapsang Souchong and Keemun, albeit somewhat of a poor blend since the different flavors of the Keemun are muted. Unfortunately, my overall impression, as of right now, is that the tea wasn't stored properly or it's old: even though it's a flowery orange pekoe grade, the tea is kind of bland.

There is one thing the lady got right though: I probably would be better off brewing tea in a yixing teapot. But I'm not exactly sure where their teapots are made, and depending on how good the lungching is, I might not be willing to buy from them again.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Brian Uses the Force

On Saturday while Lara and Sarah were returning stuff and looking at clothes, Brian and I walked around Target and came upon a Darth Vader helmet that you could wear and it would actually modulate your voice and add in the hissing breathing sounds. Brian wondered what his job would be like at the IT center for State if he wore it:

Brian: [answers phone] ohhhhh...purrrr...ohhhh...purrrr. What is thy bidding, my master?
Client: Um, yes, this is Lucas Dale, I was having some sort of problem with my IP client and I was wondering what I should do to fix the server port.
Brian: Have you tried using the Force?
Client: The force? Oh, the Internet Engineering Task Force. No, I don't think they'd actually talk to me.
Brian: No, you weakling! The FORCE!
Client: Look, buddy, I've tried forcing my ethernet in and out and my link layer is working just fine. I'll just read you the script and error messages I get, ok?
Brian: I find your lack of faith disturbing.
Client: Yeah, well, sometimes the IT center just hires warm bodies, you know what I mean? Alright, my friend's going to email you the error that I keep getting, from the computer lab.
Brian: The computer lab? It's a front for the rebellion!
Client: Heck yeah it is! Internet censorship shouldn't exist at all, especially for China and Singapore. Once we manage to break down their firewalls, people will be able to read and view anything they want without government interference, the way the first amendment should be read!
Brian: You don't know the power of the dark side!
Client: No kidding, Singapore blocked the entire computerlab because they were able to trace the ISP number. Fortunately, that won't happen again.
Brian: Alert all commands. Calculate every possible destination along the last known trajectory.
Client: Are you saying it's a manual problem?...woah, wait a minute. You must be the guy running the entire resistance! And you're telling me to alert everyone to take a final stand against censorship!?...You kind of sound like my father. Who are you?!
Brian: Luke, *I* am your father!
Client: NOOOOOOO! Ohmigosh, that's so embarrassing! How could my own dad be working at the IT center and know more about computers than me?! I'm never going to be able to show my face again! [hangs up]
Brian: The Force was strong with that one. ohhhh...purrr....ohhhhh....purrr.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Lung Ching Enjoyment

I had some more of the Lung Ching tonight and I'm really getting into it. I really like it's taste to the gunpowder teas I've had, but I still have a long way to go in my green tea forage. Hopefully I'll get back into pu'er teas, or maybe even buy a brick of Keemun or try and sample teas from all the different Chinese provences. Rounding out my tea collection with Bai Mu Dan, Bai Hao Yinzhen, Lung Ching, a brick of Keemun, and some Assam would make me content for quite some time.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Twinings Darjeeling

At the fresh market in Cameron Village, I saw a 100 gram box of darjeeling tea. It wasn't the first tea of the day that I saw. That honor resides with 10000 Pillages, er, Villages. Yes, for $12.50, tax excluded, I could have been the proud owner of USDA organic, Fair trade, first flush darjeeling tea. First flush teas are a big deal. They're big, they're high quality, and they're in large demand. So imagine my surprise when I uncapped the lid and saw this but only with a lot more stems. That does not resemble a fine grade of tea. As a matter of fact, it looks like it would barely pass as an orange pekoe grade, but it's more likely a broken orange pekoe which would be suitable for teabags. And for that sort of price, it should've been at least a Flowery Orange Pekoe. And for them to label it as a first flush tea and to sell such a low grade is like selling bushels of apples hand picked by virgin maidens on Mt. Olympus, but all the apples have worms in them and they're incredibly mushy. I passed on it and thought of getting some handmade soaps. Unfortunately, the soaps cost $4.50 for a 4"x2"x2" piece of sandalwood soap. If we keep buying goods at these prices from 10,000 Villages, pretty soon India will be setting up a "10,000 Suburbs" in New Delhi featuring pictures of accountants making paperclip chains and abacuses.
I was going to get some tea, but not from that store.
So I went to the Fresh market and saw the Twinings tin that was 100g for $5 of Darjeeling tea. I knew it was loose leaf, and I knew that it wasn't going to be high quality, but by golly, I knew what I was getting. So I broke the seal and saw broken orange pekoe leaves glancing up at me. I made a cup when I got back home and noticed that the cup smelled like a rose. The taste was apt for the amount of money I paid: bitter, monotonous, and lightly gritty. But it gave me a vague idea of what Darjeeling tastes like, and I enjoyed the cup which was the point anyway.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Well excuse me, Mr. Tea Con-oh-sewer!

Lara, Brian, Sarah and I went to The Tipsy Teapot to get some tea this afternoon. Sarah and Brian had decaffeinated English Breakfast tea, and I got the Bai Mu Dan for Lara and myself. But before ordering the Bai Mu Dan (or 'peony white' as it was labelled. Sheesh), I asked the lady at the cash register (and possibly the store proprietor) if they had any Keemun. She stared and asked me to repeat myself. "Keemun," I cried, slightly panicking, "It's a Chinese black tea!" "Well, we have lapsang souchong, but not that! I've never heard of that before," and she gave me a look like I'd proudly told her that I was born with gill slits and a tail.
I was kind of in disbelief. It's one thing to be a person solely accostumed to working the cash register, but to be the store owner and not know what a common black Chinese tea is is more than just a little odd. It'd be like going to a car dealership, plunking down a catalogue with a model and make, saying "I'd like this 2008 Saab, please!" and the car dealer going, "What is that?! I have NEVER heard or seen of this car! We've got some Peugeots if you're interested..."

And on a sidenote, Brian "Quincy Lazybones Wiltburger" and I decided that shoe shopping with the girls is a little like Limbo. You know you're not exactly in hell, but you're not in heaven either, and whenever you go to new places, the size of the clothing and the amount of trying on increases drastically. It's like progressing further and further into hell until you're at Cocytus and the girls are going, "Gosh, I really like this dress...wait, would this go with those shoes and bracelet and earrings we saw? Or would it go with the other pair of sandals and rings and armbands? Well, I can't remember what those shoes looked like! I guess that means we'll have to go back to the shoe store and then come back here to see if we like it!"

Thursday, September 11, 2008

By the power of my cordless mouse!

At my job I have to print out loads of charts, and when I get a patient's chart that has several hundred pages for me to print because of various ailments, I always put my hands over the monitor and scream in my mind: "Patient, HEAL thySELF!" but it never works.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Lung Ching relaxation

After I biked, I kicked back with my monocle and the same Lung Ching that I bought from ASS. Delicious, and nutty with water that was a little hotter than I usually use (about 170 or so), with a little less sweetness coming through in the cup. Because of my rushed mornings, I haven't gotten into the habit of imbibing the good stuff, and so I've made cups of coffee to fix my morning hot liquid jones. But since I've got all this tea still, I need to drink it and see what else I can buy (within reasonable price limits), but I might just hold off on the white monkey tea (ugh).

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

A Rapping from the Book of Daniel

Contemporary Worship is kind of a funny thing. It's mostly singing songs on a guitar, maybe with a praise band, and a sermon followed by more songs. But c'mon! Most contemporary worships are with acoustic guitars! That's so passe! They need to get with it and start rapping the gospels and hymns!

"The three illest homies that I've ever known were Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. All were taken hostage to a Babylonian land, Nebuchadnezzar held them in the palm of his hand. He told 'em 'Yo dawgs, I tell you what I've been feelin'. Get some training in this hizzouse and you'll be my Chaldeans." So the three young homies got into the training, they were wining and dining but their religion was straining. 'Cause King Nebuchizzle had the whole place jumpin', people bowin' to his idol, when they heard that bass pumpin'! But the three young homies didn't hang wit N's deism, 'cause they had a little posse called Judaism. But the king's advisors got supah pissed, and they pointed to the idol and said, 'you gotta hit this.' Shadrach called 'em out, and he said they was trippin', popped some Hennessy open and he started sippin'. The advisors grabbed their Glocks and they made some danger by going for King Nizzle in their phat Rove Ranger. King N. was at the club with his homies and his hon when he met his two advisors who gave him the 411. King Nizzle didn't know just what these fools they was seein', so he paid a little visit to his three Chaldeans. [Insert def bass line here] King Nebuchizzle caught the homies in the hall, and said, 'There's a party in my crib where we all worship Baal.' But the three young homies knew that Baal's reign was ovah, and they told the King, 'Son, you gotta worship Jehovah!' King Nebuchizzle whipped out his gat, said 'light up the furnace and burn 'em up STAT!' But the three young homies started acting real chill, 'cause the religion of God gave 'em balls of steel. So they walked in the fire, but they didn't burn up, King N was so amazed that he dropped his crunk cup. An angel flew down and asked 'em if they want water, but Shadrach looked around and said, 'Naw, we've felt hotter.' Abednego was itching from the embers and the smoke; Meschach was so bored that he started cracking jokes. Shadrach's bladder was full, and he started to shout, 'Yo dawgs I tell you how we could put this conflagration out!' So they started at the corner and worked their way to the other, and they put the fire out with a special yellow water. They walked out the furnace and up to King N, looked him in the eye and said 'you're living in sin.' King N was stunned at what he just saw, put his gat away, and said 'Aight, I'm down wit y'all.' And from that day forward all the fools knew better, the three homies' god Jehovah was a real go-getter."

Monday, September 1, 2008

Labor Day

So on this glorious day of Labor, I went out dove hunting with the girl and bagged 12 doves with about 75 shells. Looking back, I wish I hadn't attempted to shoot doves that were 50 yards away, and had I actually gotten into a proper stance I would've gotten more doves with less shells.
After a long day, I came back home and dressed the doves and barbecued them for Lara and myself, pairing them with avocados, tomatoes, onions, and corn chips.
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