Unfinished Rambler

I am the Thread Creep or Professional Thread Jacker, at your service

2009-11-09T11:54:00.003-05:00

Okay, first of all, I'm not this bad.

Second, though, yes, I do hijack threads from time to time as the artist of this illustration, Jenn Thorson, can tell you because I did it over on her Facebook page.

Her comment was this:

The tiling's all done on the fireplace I'm installing. Now I get to paint the fire surround, and drill big holes in my wall.... Er, well, I HOPE they won't be BIG holes. Pennsylvania only needs the ONE Grand Canyon.

From that seemingly innocent discussion began a thread on the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon that I felt obliged to weigh in on since I live near said Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. Not only did I respond to Jenn, but also to her other commenters.

Jenn thanked me thusly:

Heh, thanks to our lovely and talented Facebook page cohost Bryan for his informative sharing. :)

Later Jenn wrote:

Woot! Got all the trim and fancy wood parts on the fireplace I've been installing-- of course, the house is old and nothing is QUITE at right angles, so leveling or centering things actually makes everything look Wonderland wonky.

Which of course prompted me to respond:

I think we should have an offshoot on the topic "Wonderland," like the last time you talked on this topic and mentioned "The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania." Which Wonderland do you mean? The park? The ballroom? The drug and alcohol treatment facility? http://www.google.com/#hl=en&source=hp&q=wonderland&aq=f&aqi=g10&oq=&fp=b8148470ea1f7ec2 ;)

To which Jenn responded:

You know, I'm starting to get an understanding of why your sister feels the need to torment you so. :) I shall dub you Thread Creep. ;)

When I responded that I've been called worse, The Wife, ever one to defend my honor had this to say:

Hell, he's BEEN worse.

Thanks, hon.

Of course, though, she's right. I have BEEN worse. Even now I'm contemplating how to torture my sister on Facebook while she's sick at home.

Hmmmm.....lemme think.

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This blog is under quarantine until further notice...

2009-11-04T09:47:00.002-05:00

It's true. This blog is under quarantine because its author possibly has the swine flu. If you've already entered, even through a reader, I'm sorry, but you aren't allowed to leave. You're forced to look through the archives for the next however many days this thing lasts. It could be worse. You could be forced to look through the archives of Dooce, to which I won't provide a link because you're not allowed out of here anyway.

The Top 10 Biblical Characters To Dress Up As At Halloween...er...Harvest Parties

2009-10-28T10:34:00.003-04:00

The emphasis on Halloween for me as a youth was on the "Hallow" as in "Hallowed be Thy name."

I grew up in an Assemblies of God background, which didn't even believe in Boy Scouts but had Royal Rangers instead. Think Pioneers, but instead of red, we wore green and instead of quoting Marx and Lenin, we quoted Peter and Paul, chapter and verse, but definitely no Mary. Catholics were, and are, verboten for Assemblies of God youth.

We had "harvest parties" instead of "Halloween parties" and didn't dress up as devil and witches but as prophets and prophetesses? Dutiful wives of prophets? Sarah? Noah's unnamed wife? I do remember girls were in attendance as I flirted with them on the hay rides after the parties, but for the life of me, I don't remember who they came dressed up as.

When I asked my sister about strong female biblical characters, she listed Mary, of course, Ruth and Queen Esther. My wife, though, mentioned Jezebel and I thought of Delilah, not two characters most Assemblies of God ministers would want their youth groupies to emulate.

My focus, though, here will be on the male biblical characters which we boys did and could have dressed up as.

10. Abraham: Even though I don't remember dressing up as him, he is one that kids could dress up as, I guess. After all, you could come in with a little dance, using the Father Abraham song. No, this Father Abraham song, not this one.

9. Noah: We lived in farm country, and I guess we could have been accompanied by animals, two of a kind, of course.

8. Joshua/Gideon: The prop here would have been a trumpet naturally, although after that, I don't know what the joke would be. However, maybe you could use this song somehow. It was an excuse for me anyway.

7. Samson: I don't know if this would have worked. I mean, long hair, but not necessarily white would be so such a faux pas at these parties. It'd be like showing up at a Venetian Masquerade Party without a powdered wig. I mean, it can be done, but don't be surprised, if the hostess of the party throws a look of disdain over her lorgnette if you show up with this costume.

6. David: When I first thought of this, I thought of using a slingshot as a prop, although perhaps that would be frowned up at some parties by youth ministers. My wife had another take on it, saying that if one did come dressed up as David, one rule would have to apply: no naked dancing. Selah!

5. Jeremiah: I'm thinking here sackcloth and ashes. This might be a little bit of a downer, though. However, it might at least get the other kids to think about the shortness of their lives...of course, teenage suicide is a problem. So maybe not.

4. Joseph: The coat of many colors, of course, would be a great costume. However, would that be promoting homosexual lifestyles, because of all the colors of the rainbow? And since Donny Osmond did the musical too (if you stomach that clip, may the angel Moroni truly bless you), would that be seen as promoting Mormonism, which naturally is seen as a cult by most mainstream churches? Could be problematic.

3. Peter: This one has possibilities with props of nets and fishing poles. The denying Christ three times, though, not so much.

2. Moses: You could bring in stone tablets for this one, maybe even a set of three and drop one if your youth group has a sense of humor, even though the youth group leader might be the only one who is old enough to get the joke. You also could carry a staff -- and if you wanted to throw in a full impression, you could stutter too.

And the No. 1 Biblical character to dress up as at Halloween:

John the Baptist: Why him?

I just imagine someone coming in carrying his own head on a platter¡

Ba-da bump.

Part of the Humor Bloggers Halloween Humor Carnival.

Mercury Falls: Worth $12 for paperback, $5 for Kindle on Amazon? Let me tell you

2009-10-22T17:30:00.004-04:00

Title: Mercury Falls
Author: Robert Kroese
Publication Year: 2009
Pages: 337
Genre: Fiction
Count for Year: 48

How I discovered

It's a wee bit complicated, but the short version is that I know Robert Kroese through a site called Humor-Blogs, where my blog Unfinished Rambler is listed. Rob, also known as "Diesel" to most people who know him, has his own humor blog, Mattress Police. Using material from that blog, he published his first book, Antisocial Commentary: From the Secret Files of the Mattress Police in 2007. Based on the overwhelming (positive or negative? I make no value judgments here) response he received there, he actually thought that he was qualified to write a novel, and, lo and behold, two years later, he has shown the world he can write a novel.

But the question is this: Is it worth the $12 you have to pay on Amazon for the paperback or even the $5 for the Kindle version? Damned if I know, since (note to Federal Trade Commission: disclosure notice) I got a free copy as a financial supporter of Humor-Blogs...however, you may be wondering for yourself, and by the end of this review, I may give you an answer to that very question whether it's worth actually purchasing and worth me keeping on my shelf for future re-reading. As is my nature, though, I may just ramble on and on and on and not get to an answer at all. Stick around and see, though. It still might be a fun ride.

The setup

The world is ending. Again.
Years of covering the antics of End Times cults for a religious news magazine have left Christine Temeri not only jaded but seriously questioning her career choice.
That is until she meets Mercury, an anti-establishment angel who's frittering his time away whipping up batches of Rice Krispy Treats and perfecting this ping-pong backhand instead of doing his job: helping to orchestrate Armageddon. With the end near and angels and demons debating the finer political points of the Apocalypse, Christine and Mercury accidentally foil an attempt to assassinate one Karl Grissom, a thirty-seven-year-old film school dropout about to make his big break as the Antichrist.
Now to save the world, she must negotiate the byzantine bureaucracies of Heaven and Hell and convince the apathetic Mercury to take a stand, all the while putting up with the obnoxious mouth-breathing Antichrist.
-- from the back of the book

The novel begins twenty miles outside of Elko, Nevada on a plateau with Temeri covering the story of the Reverend Jonas Bitters, First Prophet of the Church of the Bridegroom, and a small group of his followers who believe that the Second Coming of Christ will occur April 29 shortly before dawn. Not surprisingly, Christ doesn't return, with the blame falling on Ten Virgins who aren't...well, all they seem to be. For Christine, it is just another story of a religious crackpot who thinks he knows the future but doesn't, the same kind of story she's done for years.

And now her publisher, Harry, wants her to interview the next crackpot, Galileo Mercury until she says that she can't take much more of covering the "Apocalypse circuit." Then Harry gives her the ultimate interview, with General David Isaakson of the Israeli Army, also known as "the Architect of the Apocalypse" in the middle of a conflict between Israel and Syria (and as Harry says: "Maybe the Iranians too."). Even though ostensibly it's about the Apocalypse, it also is the chance to get her name known on the international front. So she goes...

...and ends up coming back to Mercury in a roundabout way -- and then to Grissom, the Antichrist selected in a contest by an author promoting the last book of her series about a boy named Charlie Nix, which seems more than vaguely reminiscent of another famous series by another famous author. But could he be the real Antichrist? And what does a metallic attache case that Isaakson gave to her to take to Mercury have to do with anything?

I'm not telling you. You'll have to read it. However, I can tell you that it is a fun ride with Christine along the way as she crosses paths with fallen angels and archangels alike and travels through portals to the basements of Heaven and the attics of Hells trying to answer those very questions. How much fun? Let me give you a few samples, starting with a footnote (yes, there are footnotes) about the Antichrist:

The identity of the Antichrist is, of course, less important than the fact that there is an Antichrist. No one cares much what the Antichrist says or does, but they feel better knowing he's around. In this way, he is much like the Pope or the United Nations.
It is probably not entirely coincidental that both the Pope and the United Nations have often been accused of being the Antichrist. Other individuals and organizations have also made the short list, of course. Nero was an early favorite, and dictators like Napoleon and Hitler were strong contenders. Even the affable U.S. President Ronald Wilson Reagan -- who had the distinction of having six letters in each of his three names-- was named a potential Antichrist. Later, the name of vaunted Israeli General David Isaakson also tended to crop up among people who discussed such things.
Yet, on some level, most people seemed to sense that someone like Hitler was too obvious a choice. Once you make it clear that your intention is global conquest, the mystery is gone and people start to look for someone with less pedestrian aims. Start talking about a Brotherhood of Man or a New World Order, though, and ears perk up.
People also seem to intuitively understand that Antichrist is really more of a figurehead position. They expect the Antichrist to make ominous pronouncements that can be disassembled and slotted into a prefabricated eschatological framework, not impose martial law or orchestrate mass killings. It is safe to say, however, that nobody expected the Antichrist to look quite like Karl Grissom.

Then this:

There were thirty-eight Charlie's Grills on I-5 in between Yreka, California and Los Angeles, spaced so that on a road trip from one end of the state to the other one could eat breakfast, lunch and dinner-- not to mention brunch, linner and several other meals to be named later-- from a completely standarized menu of entrees that ranged in quality from passable to mediocre.
This proliferation of family restaurants was not, despite the protestations of anti-sprawl advocates and concerned cardiologists, part of any kind of diabolical plan. This isn't to say that there was no plan, or that there weren't demonic entities involved in its inception, but the actual marketing strategy and franchise agreements were more intrinsically Satanic than was the norm for the hospitality industry. Charlie's Grill was only evil to the extent that it concealed the unremarkable character of its food with a facade constructed of faux brick walls and artificially weathered signs promoting no-longer-existent brands of soda and/or motor oil with slogans like "The smoothest yet!" That is to say, it was about as evil as Applebee's.
Charlie's Grill was, pure and simple, a money-making operation for Lucifer, who had long ago come to terms with the fact that while spreading depravity and ruination was his true calling, it didn't always pay the bills. Lucifer was a true believer in the adage that no one ever went broke overestimating the numbers of time that Americans can pull over for cheeseburgers. It wasn't an exciting or particularly sinister way of making money, but it did make possible all sorts of other costly but worthwhile diabolical schemes, so Lucifer expanded the operation at every opportunity.

And finally this:

The Apocalypse Accord is a long and mind-numbingly detailed document, hashed out by seraphic lawyers over the course of several thousand years to cover every conceivable aspect of the Apocalypse. Regarding the Antichrist it reads, in part:
The Antichrist is to be the official representative of Lucifer on earth. The Antichrist must be a human being of Semitic descent (at least one sixteenth on the father's side), and is to be selected by Lucifer (or his designated representatives) a minimum of forty days prior to the commencement of Phase One of the Apocalypse. Once selected, the Antichrist's name must be submitted to the Senate, the Antichrist comes under legal protection of the Senate's Committee on Persons of Apocalyptic Interest, and may not be physically harmed or coerced in any way by any parties to this agreement (See "When Are Agents of Heaven Permitted to Attempt to Kill the Antichrist?" in Appendix L). The Senate then has seven days to ratify or veto the selection. If the candidate is vetoed, the Senate must also provide a written rationale for their veto (For a detailed list of Antichrist qualifications, see Appendix F: "So You Think You've Got a Candidate for the Position of Antichrist?"). If the Senate does not veto or ratify the candidate's selection within seven days, the candidate's selection is assumed to be ratified by default. Once a candidate is ratified, the Side of Heaven has forty days to publicly denounce the candidate as the Antichrist and an agent of Lucifer. Failure to adequately denounce the candidate within forty days of his or her ratification will cause the Hosts of Heaven to be held in Breach of this Accord, and to be ascribed penalties as detailed in Appendix H ("Denunciation: Why It Matters."). Once the candidate is denounced, he or shall be considered to be Antichrist and will be accorded various Powers and Principalities (see "Legal and Tax Ramifications of Being Classified as the Antichrist" in Appendix P).

So final answer to the question: Is it worth the $12 you have to pay on Amazon for the paperback or even the $5 for the Kindle version? And is it worth it for me to keep on my shelf for future re-reading? Yes. After all that rambling, most of it as you might note not done by myself but Mr. Kroese, not only might it be a fun ride, but also it is a fun ride.

My final rating: a 4.5 out of 5 with the 1/2 point because he gave me a free copy of the book. ;)

My rating system:

5- Classic, must read
4- Worth owning a copy
3- Worth picking up at library
2- Worth skimming at the bookstore
1- Worth being a doorstop

This post also can be found on my book blog, Just A (Reading) Fool and my main blog, an unfinished person (in an unfinished universe).

Got your Race Face on?

2009-10-19T14:56:00.000-04:00

From the folks who brought you Sun Bum and Game Face comes Race Face.*

Yes, it's the only officially NASCAR-licensed sunscreen. So the next time somebody at the race asks you, "Got your race face on?," you can say in all honesty, "Yessirree, Billy Bob, I do."

* All three come with a built-in bottle opener (I kid you not).

Disclosure: My father, who looks like Mark Martin, bought this for me because he knows I like Jeff Gordon. I did not receive this as a gift to review from the company and I have not road tested it yet. Mileage may vary.

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Tuesday Morning QB: Angering The Football Gods

2009-10-13T12:57:00.000-04:00

Most of us don't want to piss off this group:

but somehow I managed it as this past weekend, my fantasy football team lost 46 to 119 to Lobo's fantasy football team (Lobo of Predator Press).

For the complete synopsis of the carnage they unleashed upon me, visit Humor Bloggers Fantasy Football League Blog.

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The "I Need To Be Offended and Crotchety Like I Need A Hole In The Head" Offensive

2009-10-10T12:59:00.001-04:00

This past week was a special event over at Humorbloggers dot com with the Humor Blog Roast of Chelle of The Offended Blogger and Da Old Man from Crotchety Old Man Yells At Cars. Participating thus far were ettarose of Sanity on Edge (Chelle and Joe still to come tomorrow), nonamedufus (Chelle and Joe), Reforming Geek of Confessions of A Reforming Geek (Chelle and Joe), Quirky Loon of Musings of a Quirky Loon (Chelle and Joe), Kirsten of The Soccer Mom Files (Chelle and Joe).

All of those blogs who are the roasters are worth reading. The roastees? Well, that's a matter of opinion, usually not a good one either. To wit, Chelle's an anti-Semite (I mean look at one of her other blogs here) and Joe, well, he is a hypochondriac.

He's always talking about his being in the hospital, and he even wants you to give him a call at the hospital so he can talk about his alleged problems some more. If you want to hear his litany of alleged illnesses, here's his phone number: 732-650-8419. Give the crazy old fart a call. He'll probably enjoy talking your ear off. "Crazy Old Bastard Yells At Anyone Who Calls Him" should be the name of his blog.

As for Chelle, in addition to her being an anti-Semite, every post is an offensive one like this: "The 'I'm a white, blond upper-middle class woman who lives on a ranch in Idaho the size of Connecticut who pretends to be a tough redneck woman but really isn't' Offensive." "This time, it's personal," could be her motto, judging by the number of "personal" offensives she has taken. Jesus (whom she thinks is a taco truck driver, I'm not sure who's crazier, she or Da Old Man), Mohammed (oh, don't get her started on that) and Buddha (whom she probably thinks is her gardener because he does topiaries), get over yourself already, lady and I use that term loosely.

Even Chelle herself admitted a couple of weeks ago in the chat room over at HBDC that she really isn't as tough as she makes out to be, and I quote:

"I am such a sissy. I played paint ball once. THAT shit hurts."

"I talk a good story. I'm really a big puss."

Her next post: The "I Confess To Being a Big Puss" Offensive.

Then out of left field, she says this:

"I like black guys."

TF?

She also likes big monster trucks and a German band called Rammstein whose latest album comes out this week: Liebe ist für alle da (roughly translated "There is love for everyone") and whose first single off the album, offensively enough, is titled "Pussy."

Surprisingly, Hitler doesn't like it:

Maybe there is hope for Chelle yet if Hitler doesn't like it. Maybe she'll change her anti-Semitic ways soon.

Now if only there could be hope for Da Old Man and his hypochondriac ways.

To see a site for humor bloggers that Chelle created: Humor Bloggers. Sadly, I'm a member there too, well, at least, I was -- before this post ;)

Not only did it smell like victory, but also it was victory

2009-10-06T12:38:00.000-04:00

Today over at the Humor Bloggers Fantasy Football League Blog, I posted my latest Tuesday Morning QB post with the title as listed above.

It gave me an excuse to use this clip from one of my favorite movies:

and this photo of my starting quarterback's girlfriend:

For the rest of the post, click here.

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The Day I Jumped To The Wrong Conclusions On My Jump To Conclusions Mat

2009-10-05T09:23:00.002-04:00

Ever have a day when you jump to the wrong conclusions on the Jump To Conclusions Mat? I have.

Exhibit 1:

7:30 a.m. Sunday morning my wife's cell phone rings.

We're still in bed.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know..."

She reaches for, and picks up, the phone off floor by bed where she leaves it to charge.

Looks at me oddly.

"It's you."

Huh?

A couple of thoughts went through my head within a split second:

1. I left my cell phone at the men's chorus concert Saturday night, it was found by one of the other members of the chorus and he called me to let me know he had it.

2. My phone was stolen. The perpetrator accidentally called my wife's number, or worse, as said wife would mention a few minutes later, called her to taunt me.

"Neener, neener, neener, I have your phone."

OR...

It dawned on me.

Our cat Seamus had stepped on my cell while it was left on the couch..

"It's Seamus."

...which when I went to look, I discovered that's who had called her.

Later, I learned I wasn't the only one who jumped to conclusions.

She told me later:

"When you said, 'It's Seamus,' I almost said, 'Seamus, hang up the phone.'"

If only it were a phone with a cradle.

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Down the rabbit hole

2009-10-01T13:42:00.000-04:00

The last few mornings, this is how I've been starting my days.

Allergies, heartburn and depression, lately in that order, will do that to you.

One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small...

Seven pills, though, make me medium, somewhere in between a large-ass headache and a small one and keeps my stomach on an even keel. At least, that's the hope.

I'd say more, but I think "the hookah smoking caterpillar has given" me "the call." Off to follow the white rabbit and still try to keep my head-- although at this moment, I wouldn't mind unscrewing it for a bit and coming back for it later.

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Another edition of Tuesday Morning QB (on Monday)

2009-09-28T22:10:00.001-04:00

He may be the Queen of the Humor Bloggers Fantasy Football League Blog, but I still beat him this past weekend 115-48.

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Cocaine Blues

2009-09-26T18:20:00.001-04:00

As a correspondent for a newspaper, I pick up court reports from a local district justice office every couple of weeks.

Yes, it's that slow around here, and most of the time the reports are, sad to say, DUIs.

However, every once in a while, I come across those special cases. This week was such a case.

In a report about Billy Bob stealing a gazebo (no, not strange enough yet) was this tidbit:

According to police, Jethro said Billy Bob showed him a receipt from a man named Slick for $2,000 for the gazebo.

On June 27, Slick was interviewed and denied selling the gazebo to Billy Bob. However, Slick said, according to court records, that he had signed a receipt for $200 for cocaine from Billy Bob.

On Sept. 16, Slick took a polygraph and it was determined that he had nothing to do with the theft of the gazebo and furniture, according to police.

As I was reading the report, I, probably like you, did a double-take.

Cocaine?

I had to read over that several times. I can just hear Slick saying to the policeman who interviewed him:

"No, that wasn't for a gazebo, man. That was for cocaine, you silly."

Then saying:

"Oops, did I say 'cocaine'? I mean Co...ca C0la. Yeah, that's what it was."

Policeman:

"Um, you said 'cocaine.'"

Slick:

"Aw, okay, I'm come clean with you, man; it was cocaine."

Policeman:

"Well, now that we have that cleared up...about that gazebo...hey, wait a minute, not so fast there, Slick..."

Funny thing is that the report didn't mention if Slick ever was charged with anything, although I guess he could be lying about the cocaine...of course, he did take a polygraph test.

Of course, it's not admissible in court.

At least, he didn't shoot anybody.

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BREAKING NEWS: Aliens return Agatha Christie book they abducted

2009-09-23T23:02:00.001-04:00

Back in July, I had a theory that an Agatha Christie book I lost from the library had been raptured. However, tonight I learned that theory might be wrong as I discovered the book in my home office.

I now think it might have been abducted by aliens similar to the photo above and returned.

I had just gone done talking with my sister on the phone when I happened to look down at the floor of my office and...

THERE IT WAS...

...underneath a case of CDs. I first thought it was another Agatha Christie from the library, because all the ones I get are from the Agatha Christie Mystery Collection and have the same black hardcover. Then I picked it up and...

...it was the copy of Murder at Hazelmoor (also known as The Sittaford Mystery) which I had lost from the library and for which I already had bought a replacement online.

It wouldn't be so bad to have a copy of the book except that in my review of it, I had said it wasn't worth owning a copy, but only worth picking up at the library.

Must be the aliens didn't think it was worth owning either.

Sources: First photo, from The X-Files; second photo, from album cover of Coulson Dean McGuiness Flint's Lo and Behold (click on photo to go to hear samples from the album from Rhapsody, if you're so inclined).

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Tuesday Morning QB post over at Humor Bloggers Fantasy Football League Blog

2009-09-22T23:21:00.000-04:00

I actually posted it a day early over at Humor Bloggers Fantasy Football League Blog:

Tuesday Morning QB A Day Early No Thanks To The Canuck In Our League.

Um, yeah, I lost.

While you're there, be sure to check out the bloggers listed on the right there. The participating bloggers are also listed here on my blog in the sidebar.

Agatha Christie In Music: Sublime? ...er...well, not always

2009-09-18T11:20:00.001-04:00

I did this post as part of the Agatha Christie Week Blog Tour over on my reading blog on Just A (Reading) Fool, but thought it was just quirky enough that it could go on this blog as well. On Tuesday was Christie's birthday and throughout England anyway, it was Agatha Christie Week this past week. She would have been 109 if still alive today.

The Russian band above is named Agata Kristi. If you don't feel like reading the entire history there on Wikipedia, let me cut to the chase for you:

The name was chosen allegedly as best reflecting the band's sound style, a mysterious, eccentric, and at times sadistically spooky mix of glam, goth rock, and techno-like electronics.

The next band, Filligar, has a song called appropriately Agatha Christie Novel (click to be taken to Last.fm for a listen), or here's the video from Youtube:

I find reference to another Agatha Christie song by French artist Henri Tachan, which if nothing else seems comical in English translation. Without further adieu, go here for a laugh. Those crazy French people. I couldn't find an actual link to the song, but a sample of his work can be found here, which actually doesn't sound half crazy.

Not to be outdone, though, the British band Deep Freeze Mice from Leicester chime in with their own nonsensical lyrics as found here:

In the corridors of someone’s bloodstream shrunken
I heard high pitched squeaking faintly in the bathroom

Chorus
He's reading an Agatha Christie
I'm swimming around in his heart
I could save his life with a laser
But it’s impossible cos Agatha cheats like hell
She’s unscrupulous, she sprays paint in your eyes

Chorus

Methinks, someone has a problem with a girl named Agatha and he's taking out on Dame Christie, DBE.

To hear the song, visit the band's MySpace page and click on the music player up at the right with the song "Reading An Agatha Christie." Come on, you know you want to hear it.

I found two other references to Agatha Christie in lyrics, one in a song named "Mellow My Man" by The Roots and another by a band whose name is called Swollen Members, I kid you not, in a song called "Snake Bite." Click only if you dare to see if you can find the quick references to Christie in name only.

For a more serious treatise of Christie and music, visit this article on MusicWeb International.

In a totally-unrelated note, Chorion, a global media company based in Great Britain, owns a large share of the Agatha Christie literary estate, and also owns Beatrix Potter, Paddington Bear and my sister's favorite Max & Ruby, as evidenced by her post here. Now you know, Sis, who to blame for your toddler's obsession. I'd say, "Those bastards," but they are bringing us Agatha Christie too so at least, I can't complain.

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WTF Wordless Wednesday #33: Nice photo of horse in a field gone terribly wrong

2009-09-16T00:48:00.001-04:00

My sister took this photo this past weekend, but didn't feel it was appropriate for her blog, but thought it was appropriate for mine. Um, okay.

So even though I've said I'd do away with themes, I may return to the WTF Wordless Wednesday theme once in a while, especially if photos like this come along...which, er, that said, I hope they don't. I don't want to be caught with photos like this on my computer (but on my blog, sure, that's fine).

She said they were two cows...and when she mentioned it to my father, he said sometimes they do that when they're "in heat." Way to go, ladies, though, in messing up what was going to be a nice photo of a horse in field. My sister said she didn't notice them until later when she was looking at what she had snapped.

There's the true WTF.

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Communication breakdown

2009-09-15T11:01:00.002-04:00

Over the last few days, I've learned that The Wife and I are not proficient at communicating with each other as we might like to think we are.

Exhibit 1: The story where she doesn't get to the point right away

This past Saturday she was at the ambulance building getting ready to do bills for a meeting tonight (she is the secretary for the ambulance association) when a call came in for a car accident.

I’ll let her tell the story (paraphrased, of course, but with the essence of the story still intact):

"I heard on the radio about police finding a car they had been looking for. At first, I thought it was a stolen car, but then they said it was off the road, and I knew we would be called out. Sure enough, we were."

"When we arrived at the scene, we saw a car flipped over in a field off Mount Zion Road. We discovered the driver had fled the scene…"

"Joe [ambulance chief] was looking at the skidmarks on the roads and thought something was odd…Police then told him the driver had been driving backwards up the road...'Oh, that explains it,' he said."

"Evidently the car was a stolen car…"

Me: Wait, he stole the car and was driving it backwards?

"Yeah, it was a 17-year-old kid who stole the car…from his grandfather…"

"It was the second time in the last couple of weeks that he’s stolen a relative's car…"

Ah, finally we got to the crux of the story. Why she didn’t tell me this first?

"Then the family is there talking about it…"

I imagine a family not dissimilar to the Beverly Hillbillies, minus the Beverly Hills, standing on a porch, spitting their tobacco out off the porch in between words, as they look over the wreckage of Grampa's car.

"Well, there went Billy Bob again."

"What did he expect trying to steal Grampa's car? He should know that thing hasn't gone forward in 20 years."

Exhibit 2: The story where she misses the point

Last night I was supposed to go to stay overnight at a hospice where I volunteer. However, I received a phone call earlier in the day that the guest was quickly taking a turn for the worse, and his family would be staying with him for the duration.

So first thing after The Wife gets home, I decide to tell her that I won't have to go.

Her response: "Yay!!!"

Me: "Jeez. He's not dead yet."

Her: "Oh, I thought you were talking about the borough council meeting to which you had to go [note: she always talks in perfect English, no dangling prepositions can be hung on her]."

Me: "Er…no."

She: "Oops."

Exhibit 3: Subtlety

Shortly after that conversation, she hands me a sheet of paper with a list titled: "The Seventeen Evidences of a Lack of Humility by St. John Vianney."

Me: "Er…are you trying to tell me something?"

She: "Oh, no…no, no, no…I didn't mean it that way. It's just something I came across on the Internet today…and thought was interesting. It was more for me."

Me: "Uh huh, sure."

Above us only sky

2009-09-11T08:50:00.000-04:00

I'm judging from the photo with my sister in the photo (with the hood pulled up over her head) that I was about 10 or 11. The year must have been 1979 or 1980.

Our friends, the Van Dykes, lived in New Jersey and that day they took our family to New York City to see the sights. Tom, or Tommy, with the curly hair. Kari Rose, their daughter. A friend of Tom's, Tim Jeltes.

I remember we didn't go up the Twin Towers that day because it cost more than we were able to afford at the time for all of us. So we were content to look up at the twin skyscrapers from below.

The photo that strikes me the most out of these is the one of the towers from below. The blue sky. The sun shining. I am reminded of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, to what heights men can aspire, to how our dreams are dashed, sometimes with back-to-back blows to our collective solar plexus.

However, we couldn't see more than 20 years into the future then. Oblivious to what was to come, we lifted our heads and smiled at the camera. In fact, the future was so bright that I had to wear shades.

Does the future look so bright now eight years later? I don't know. I like to imagine it is.

Quickies on a Tuesday

2009-09-08T15:06:00.000-04:00

It's been a whole week since my last post, because my computer is in the shop. As it is, I'm at the library, so as I only have half an hour, these will be quick observations, or "quickies," I've culled from the back of my mind for you:

America runs on Dunkin': I heard this on the radio this morning, and thought, "Really?" No wonder America has an obesity problem.

Now serving burgers at 9:30 a.m.: I saw this on the sign at a local Burger King this past weekend. I don't know about you, but I don't really get cravings for burgers that early. Sure, I get cravings for whiskey that early, but burgers?!? I don't think so.

So to review, this:

Yes!

But this:

NO!!!

I'm not cut out for retail: I was officially notified by a friend of mine via e-mail that I am not cut out for retail. I worked for her and her husband at their bookstore last winter, and, to say it was awful would be an understatement.

What was about retail that did me in?

[Continued in another half hour later that afternoon because first half hour didn't cut it after checking e-mail, etc.]

Yep. It wasn't the customers. It wasn't the bosses (although that one boss was a bear in the mornings AND the afternoons). It wasn't my fellow employees (one other at the time). It was me. I kept getting in my way. I learned that I'm not a multitasker. It's not that the cash register, the credit card machine and "tending to" the customer were that difficult; you put them altogether, though, and I was screwed.

Well, my time's about up for this second time around. I don't feel like coming back to the library for a third time. Hopefully, by tomorrow, my computer will be fixed. If not, I'll see you here in short installments within the next few days.

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Any vowel you use: Scribble, Scrabble, Scrobble; I am not superior

2009-09-01T21:41:00.001-04:00

With yesterday's announcement that I no longer will be having themed days, I also decided that I will have no rules either. So the rule that I used to have for no memes or meme awards is gone. However, I still reserve the right to change the rules of the memes somewhat to my own designs as I have in the past.

All that said, I received the following award from Kathcom of Magick Sandwich, who received her award from Skye at Weekly Injection of Chuckles and so on and so forth, ad infinitum.

Before I get to the five bloggers to whom I'm passing this award on, with no strings attached (feel free to ignore the rules in other words, click on the badge above to see about the award and the rules, which I'm breaking by not posting here on my blog), let me talk for a moment...

About Scribbling, Scrabbling, Screbbling, Scrobbling and Scrubbling

While I appreciate the sentiment and received the award already, I really should have declined. I never have been a superior scribbler.

In fact, I've been quite mediocre. I'd show you a sample of my work from my elementary school years, but alas, my scanner is down.

I'd like to say I am a superior Scrabbler, but I never have been one of those either. My aunt Joan was and my wife is. I am a good scrappler in that I can put away a good amount of Scrapple, but I don't think counts. I mean, Kathy from The Junk Drawer can put away a good amount of bacon. Does that make her a superior "baconer"? I don't think so.

A superior screbbler? Scrobbler? Actually I do okay at scrobbling, but I wouldn't call myself superior. Sometimes I get error messages that a song couldn't be scrobbled.

Scrubbler? This, I do pretty well, because cleanliness is next to godliness. I scrubble behind the ears, knees and, well, all the other places one can imagine.

So to whom have I chosen to pass on this award? In alphabetical order:

Whether you who received the award want to pass it along to five others or put up on your site is your own choice. In fact, Kevin, I think I remember you hate this kind of thing, and Chowner, you don't have a lot of badges on your sidebar, from what I recall (like any? ;) That's okay. Regardless, I think you're all bloggers worthy of receiving praise for the material you put out day after day, in some case, week after week, month after month and year after year.

Also lest you think I'm a misanthrope, please check out previous awards here, in which I gave some awards to women.

For other bloggers with blogs (mostly) worthy of praise, visit the following sites:

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From 100 percent dissolution to 7 percent solution

2009-08-31T10:01:00.000-04:00

Today begins the dissolution of the themed days here at Unfinished Rambler. No more Meandering Monday, WTF Wordless Wednesday and Flashback Friday. Instead, I'm going to ramble just as I did when I first started this blog...

...in doing this, I hope to be able to reflect myself more honestly than I have been and that also this blog will serve more of a counterpoint to my more serious blog, an unfinished person (in an unfinished universe), where I have themed days. Order and disorder: the two flip sides of the coin. Or, to put it another way, an Ouroboros, in that I'm constantly recreating myself here as the process is never finished.

So to that end, here goes some observations apropos of no themes, just more rambling:

Friday: While at the state store (here in Pennsylvania, the state controls the sales of wines and liquors) in our town, I overheard something I had never heard previously in a state store:

"So do you have cigarettes and beer?"

The answer, of course, was no as the state store only sells wine and liquors and the obvious to anyone looking around the store, that no beer or cigarettes were in the building. I thought this was a little bit of an odd question myself, so when I got to the counter with my purchase (not for myself, Mom and Dad, of course, but for a friend), I asked the employee there:

"What planet are they from?"

The silly question fairy must have been hovering over the town that day because when I went to Subway later, I heard this from a customer there:

"So do you have any specials?"

I could have asked the same question about this customer as I had of the other one at the state store.

Evidently, upon walking to the store, the person didn't see the signs not only on the windows of the store, but on the door as they walked into the store.

The person must not have television either where these annoying commercials can be seen all the time (click at your own risk):

Saturday: I received in the mail a letter from Nationwide that said "You're pre-forgiven." "When you come to Nationwide Insurance, you can be forgiven before anything ever happens," the letter read.

Ironically, I saw this just after I had gone to the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession) at our church. It got me to thinking that maybe I don't need confession after all, since Nationwide says that I'm pre-forgiven. I can believe them, right? After all, they are on my side.

Sunday: After writing on my main blog about how I felt a twinge of conscience in reading a book that I didn't need to be reading for my spiritual well-being, I then picked up a book that began with the lead character doing this:

[X] took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece, and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time, his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist, all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.

Yep, a drug-user and a drug-pusher as he reveals at the bottom of the first page:

"It is cocaine," he said, "a seven-percent solution. Would you care to try it?"

I had to laugh.

Did I stop reading the book? No.

The lead character is Sherlock Holmes; the story, The Sign of the Four, and so far, the rest of the story has nothing to do with cocaine, although I'm expecting by the end, he is going to shoot his woman down. However, knowing him, he'd have a good answer for the sheriff from Jericho Hill and the judge as well as to why it couldn't have been him who shot "that bad bitch down."

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Blackened

2009-08-28T01:50:00.006-04:00

This blackened toenail is similar to one to which I awoke to find falling off my right big toe on the morning of Feb. 2, 2008, almost six months after I completed my first and only Bald Eagle Mountain Megatransect, a 24.9 mile trail hike/run, in northcentral Pennsylvania.

I say, similar, because at the time, my wife wouldn't let me take a picture of the toenail, including cutting away the last remaining part of the nail that was just hanging by a thread, for all the world to see in a post on my running blog. All she could say, as I recorded in that post, in her objection was

"Ewww. Ewwww."

In fact, she felt so strongly about it that she reiterated her disgust with it in the comments of my post (sans photo):

"Ew Ew Ew. Just wanted to say it again."

I'm not sure if three ews with one w show the level of disgust, though, as much as the three and four w's I used in the original ewww(w)s.

My sister, meanwhile, weighed in with her own thoughts:

"Ok. I am really grossed out. Feel my oatmeal coming back up…gotta go."

Personally, I was, and am, more grossed out by the thought of oatmeal going down, let alone coming back up. Either way, it's the color of puke. Ewwwww, and that's with five w's.

Now with the inclusion of a photo and a mention of puke, how many w's of disgust would you put on ew for this post? Let me know in the commments. While you're thinking about it, here's Metallica with an appropriately titled song:

This post is part of Humor Bloggers dot com Feet Friday, which surprise, surprise, is today, even though Reforming Geek didn't know that and posted this past Tuesday. Those, along with myself, who knew it was today are ettarose at Sanity on Edge, Nonamedufus, Quirkyloon at Musings of A Quirkyloon, Jenn Thorson at Of Cabbages and Kings, Nooter the Dog, Frank Lee MeiDere at I Probably Don't Like You, Phillipia of Writes Phillipia and, last but not least, MikeWJ at Too Many Mornings, who suggested this topic for an event, and ta-da here we are!

This post is not part of anything scheduled at Humor-Blogs.com or BlogStorm, but it still can be found there as well for your amusement.

Photo courtesy of NCRunnerDude (click on photo to be taken to his blog)

WTF (Video) Wednesday #32: Family Time

2009-08-26T07:31:00.000-04:00

Here is my family this past Sunday afternoon as I walked in on them on what reminded me of a crime scene, the only thing missing being the yellow tape:

From left are my aunt Dianne, my brother-in-law Warren, my dad and finally my mom, who obviously didn't want to be recorded. In fact, later, she told my sister (whose camera I used and who uploaded this via YouTube) and me: "DO NOT BLOG ABOUT THIS!"

You see how well we listened?

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Going to me on this Meandering Monday (#38)

2009-08-24T14:11:00.000-04:00

Most of the time when I have blogged on Mondays, I have spent my blog entries on the random shit of the world, or, in other words,

I spent my life exploring
The subtle whoring
That costs too much to be free

But today, I'm going to go to me, and be honest, because we know

Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue.
Honesty is hardly ever heard.

So here is where I am:

Or so I feel like except I'm not being held some shirtless guy, but am barely holding myself from falling in as I have yet another lingering allergy headache.

I figured if there's anything you needed today, this was mostly what you needed from me: Honesty.

Tomorrow, I'll cut to the scene from the interior, to continue being true to myself.

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Image courtesy of The Confessional Outhouse

Unnamed Elementary School Play

2009-08-21T12:01:00.000-04:00

Recently I’ve been leafing through a photo album that my mom, dad and sister gave to me for my 22nd birthday. Among some of the photos I’ve already used in previous posts here (click the photos to go to the posts) are:

I even shared one of them for the Guess the Baby Blogger Contest over at Sanity on Edge. Guess which one? And to see if you're right, go here.

With all that mind, starting today and for the next few weeks (or who knows maybe months), I will be sharing more of these photos during Flashback Fridays here.

Today's episode: Unnamed Elementary School Play

Yep, that's me at far right with what looks like an old-timey camera that reads "Boston Sunday Paper" on it. I don't remember this specifically, but I must have been playing a newspaperman (which ironically is what I later became)...

...however, this second photo:

with the girls with bottles triggers memories of my playing a medicine show barker. Maybe I played both characters. After all, a newspaperman and a medicine show barker aren't that far off from each other, are they? Each are hucksters in their own right.

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This was only the beginning of my career as an actor as I played roles in musicals in high school. See more here (unfortunately, no photos are left, but still there are the stories).