Humor

And now for something completely different

Beau Monday — Sat, 24 May 2008 01:01:00 GMT

I wasted my entire weekend last week catching up on The Adventures of Doctor McNinja. This comic strip started as a college project, but has matured dramatically, and was a competitor in the recent Eagle Awards for Best Online Comic (Order of the Stick won, another real gem in that genre, especially if you are a recovering D&D addict like myself).

If you have time to waste, trundle on over and read some of Doctor McNinja's adventures.

Here's a teaser. This is the Doc's dad (also a ninja, duh) explaining why he lit himself on fire to escape a pack of fake ninjas using an illicit drug to enhance their ninja-ness:

Heh. Great stuff.

The Fridge Full of Win

Beau Monday — Sun, 03 Feb 2008 22:56:00 GMT

When I bought my house in Oklahoma I bought a special fridge. It is all fridge, no freezer. My decision was universally mocked. “Dumbest thing ever”, it was called by one friend in particular. “Where do you keep the ice?“ they said. To which I replied: “Who puts ice in beer?“

My friends don't always appreciate my vision. See, I had a special plan for this fridge. Yes, precious, I did.

Now my vision has been realized, and I just have one thing to say to you naysayers: WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?!?!

Actually, I have a second thing to say: “How about a Corona?”

RoboPanda

Beau Monday — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 08:08:00 GMT

I'm sure WowWee fully intended this press photo of the recently-released RoboPanda to solicit many smiles and comments about how cute this robotic playmate is.

Some us aren't so easily fooled however. If the glowing eyes weren't enough, just picture the monster wearing a kimono and those outstretched hugging arms holding a pair of swords. It's not so hard, is it?

Nope, I'd get no sleep with that thing in my house.

Overheard

Beau Monday — Tue, 26 Dec 2006 01:44:00 GMT

While waiting to disembark from a recent flight from Seattle to Dallas-Ft Worth, I overheard the following conversation between a couple of fellow travellers:

Lady, to neighbor: “Where y'all from?”
Neighbor: “Seattle”
“Oh really!?”, she exclaims suprisedly, motioning towards her husband: “We just came from there!”

Here's your sign, lady.

An Ode to Mike And Ikes

Beau Monday — Fri, 23 Jun 2006 22:44:00 GMT

Nobody would believe that an ode to Mike and Ikes has been percolating in the back of my mind for years. I believe only my ex-wife knew the depth of my Mike and Ike problem, which is exceeded only by my love for the Fat Tire. It's a thing. I'm in therapy. My therapist thinks we'll have time to address this problem around the 2012 timeframe. Fingers crossed!

Anyway, as I lay on my hotel room bed in Oklahoma City, contentedly consuming about 7 serving's worth of Mike and Ikes (I'm on vacation, get off me), I decided to fire up the laptop and see if I could put my incubating homage down on paper. And not sharing the fruits (hah!) of that labor with my faithful readers just seems wrong.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you: An Ode to Mike and Ikes:

O! Mighty Mike and Ikes
in your big jumbo box
I avert my eyes in the store,
but I swear the box talks!

“Buy me Beau! I won't make
a mess of your britches
like those chocolate M&Ms,
those one-trick bitches.“

You tasty little fruits
with your confectioners shell
You won't melt on me in Phoenix
where it's hotter than Hell.

You won't sweat on me in OKC
where the humidity soars to 110.
Or fail me in the chilled air
of Alaska, no not even then.

Orange, lemon, lime
we like it like that.
23 peices per serving
and no calories from fat!

Stopping at 23 is hard to do,
I'd like to see you try it.
Luckily, Percent Daily Values
are based on a 2000 calorie diet!

Mike and Ike
the original fruits
3 citruses and cherry,
all in cahoots.

For not being a citrus,
we don't blame the cherry.
When mixed with the others,
It's strangely complementary.

But truth be told,
We often pick out the reds
And toss them at squirrels
And random crackheads.

We toss them out windows,
And stash them in nooks.
To save them for Halloween
(We get the queerest of looks)

Lemon, Lime, Orange,
And sometimes Cherry.
But can someone tell me
Who invited strawberry?

O JustBorn!
What have you wrought?
Red is a filler,
Or have you forgot?

Fumbling in the dark theatre
to separate orange from the red
Was often so difficult
It filled me with dread

Yellow and green
Those were easy to sort
Now there's two kinds of red
I'm sorry to report.

Twice the cursed reds
Where I'd rather see none.
One closer to orange still
Son of a gun.

Less room for the Oranges,
The Lemons, the Limes.
My joy's been diluted.
A sign of the times?

With the arrival of strawberry
My pleasure's down by at least half
Or maybe a third
I can't be bothered with math

So, Just Born Inc
With your satisfaction guarantee
When you get a return of just reds
You'll know that was me.

Finis

Never trust a lawyer

Beau Monday — Thu, 15 Jun 2006 23:22:00 GMT

My oldest Seattle-based friends, Bill and Jean, I've known for like 12 years or something. I met them when I took a job at now-defunct DEC working on porting Windows NT to The Coolest Processor On The Planet (aka “The Most Horribly Marketed Processor On The Planet”).

DEC is long gone now, and sadly, so is the processor, but my friendship with Bill and Jean survived somehow and they are still on my best friends short list. Jean went from being a software developer to lawyer, and Bill is now running a very successful online pet supply store.

The fact that we're still friends at all is even more amazing given the fact that they are in possession of one Polaroid picture from about 10 years ago, of yours truly in a sombrero at a local mexican joint. See, I was *lured* to Jalisco's in Kirkland, one of our popular hangouts at the time, where one (or both) of them let slip to the waiter that it was my birthday.

Hilarity ensued. For them. I don't know where they are hiding that picture, but I've helped them move TWICE since then, thinking surely I'd uncover it. No dice.

So when my birthday grew near this year, and I got an invite from Bill via IM to join them at Azteca down the hill from where I work, my Spidey-sense went berserk. The conversation went pretty much like this:

Bill tells you: Hey Beau, want to hook up with us at Azteca for dinner tonight?
You tell Bill: I don't put myself in a position that might result in me wearing a sombrero, and a polaroid we'll be talking about for the next decade. plsdrvthrubbqkthx.
Bill tells you: You and I both know that's not true, don't we?
You tell Bill: Well, after that one time, I mean.
Bill tells you: C'mon, Tim and Brenda will be there. They want to buy you dinner.

He played the “free dinner” card, and upped the ante by doubling the number of cool friends who will be in attendance. Damn!

You tell Bill: If you promise no shenanigans, I'll come. NO SHENANIGANS!
Bill tells you: OK, no shenanigans, I promise. See you at 6.

So I get to Azteca, and meet up with everyone. My guard was completely down, and I even sat with my back to the kitchen. Bill *promised*. They gave me cards, and we got on with dinner.

Before you know it, a shadow descends over me, and I realize far too late that I'd been betrayed. A sombrero larger than any I'd ever seen landed on my head, and suddenly I'm surrounded by a dozen singing mexicans who really should have had some sense of self preservation warning them not to put a huge sombrero onto a 6'4” 290lb guy. Strength in numbers, I guess. Damn, DAMN!

I took it like a man, though. Well, as much as one can. And I made sure the Polaroid caught a “If there wasn't 12 of you, somebody would be wearing this sombrero around their waist right about now“ glare. The waiter tossed a whipped-cream covered dessert thing onto the table in front of me and got the hell outa Dodge.

I turned my attention to my “friends”, who were having the time of their lives (well, since the *last* time, anyway). Bill is already swearing he had nothing to do with it, and starts scolding Jean for blowing the promise.

“Hey, I didn't promise anything,” says Jean. “Whatever agreement you and Bill had doesn't concern me.“

Damn, she found a loophole and exploited it. And she got away with it because.... well, because she's much smarter than I am.

At least I managed to snatch the picture away from her this time. But there's still one too many pics of a sombrero-sporting Beau than the world deserves. My only hope is to speed my aging process so it becomes entirely unrecognizable.

Bah, who am I kidding. I'm screwed.

Movie Random Ravings

Beau Monday — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 12:03:00 GMT

Seems Pierce Brosnan won't be back to play James Bond for a 6th time. Bummer, I guess. I never really took to him as Bond, but I can't say the movies would have sucked less without him. My vote for the next Bond is Clive Owen. I bet you just smacked your forehead and said “Yes! He's PERFECT!” The dude is British, has class, and is a helluva actor. I was first introduced to him as The Driver in BMW's ground breaking short films, but he's been in a lot of movies (4 coming out next year alone, wow). I really dig this guy.

I went and saw 2 movies this past weekend. First was Four Brothers, which I enjoyed, but seemed to have a weak and sometimes confusing plot. But all the shooting made it worth the matinee price. The other movie was Dukes of Hazzard, which I went in expecting to hate and actually really enjoyed. Maybe it was all the great car stunts, or maybe it was the surprise appearance of Linda Carter, who I've had a crush on since I saw her as Wonder Woman like 25 years ago or something. I mean Jessica Simpson is hot, I'll grant you that, but Linda Carter has CLASS in addition to great looks. It's “Ginger vs Mary Ann” all over again, I think. But beyond the ladies, I also thought they did a great job on Bo and Luke Duke, and I was laughing my ass off during parts of the movie. The chase scenes reminded me of the ones in Blues Brothers. Highly recommended, even if (maybe especially if) you were not into the TV series (I can't remember watching a single episode of the original series, but I may be just repressing it).

I picked up the boxed set of the “Original Crew” Star Trek movies recently, and I've been watching one a night. These have got to be the worst big budget sci-fi movies ever. Seriously. The first one definitely sits atop the heap. They went through the entire movie firing only one solitary round, and that was at a lame-ass asteroid inside a worm hole. WTF! The rest of the movie was watching some tiny spacecraft going from Point A to Point B past some shiny backdrop. And the music, MY GOD! The whole experience is just punishing, and I regret having stayed up to midnight to endure it.

The second movie and last night's feature, Wrath of Khan, is largely considered the best of the original crew movies, and I have to say it's magnitudes better than the first. But it's still painful at times. William Shatner is a laughable actor (“KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!“), as are many of the others. But hey, at least there's some shooting, and some shit asplodes. And there's none of those 20-minute long stretches where nothing happens but the ship moving from Point A to Point B that seemed to make up the bulk of the first movie.

Let's just say that if Wrath of Khan is the best of the bunch, it's going to be a long week.

And if Clive Owen isn't the next James Bond, I'm gonna fucking RIOT.

Food Network Random Ravings

Beau Monday — Mon, 08 Aug 2005 22:59:00 GMT

I've been saving up some rants about the Food Network, and dammit, I can't hold it in any longer!

Let me say first, that The Food Network is probably the most watched channel in the lineup. I like it. They have interesting shows and largely cool hosts.

Now let's get started...

What the FUCK is Al Roker doing on a food show? Didn't that guy get his stomach stapled a couple years ago because he couldn't give up his food addictions? And now they have him doing a FOOD SHOW?!?! This is like sending an alcoholic to do a weekly show on bars around the world, for fuck's sake. Wait, that could actually describe Bourdain's show. Anyway, it's disturbing. Knock it off.
Cat Cora. Do I really need to say anything more here? I think I might. Iron Chef? This is the woman they picked for Iron Chef? *I* have better knife skills than this woman, and I've lost parts of 2 fingers and a number of toes in my kitchen. Rachel Ray (I love me some Rachel Ray, don't get me wrong), who can't make it through a single fucking episode of 30-Minute Meals without a band-aid appearing on at least one of her fingers, has better knife skills than this woman does. Did you see Chef Cora going at that coconut with a vegetable peeler in a recent Iron Chef? My god, I thought she was going to take half her hand off right on national TV... with a fucking *vegetable peeler*! She scares me. And Jesus, did you see her on her previous show, Kitchen Accomplished? During an episode where they were renovating the kitchen of a fourth generation baker, she showed them how to make... BREAD. These people have been making bread for GENERATIONS and here comes Cat Cora to show them how it's REALLY done. Give me a fucking break.
Let's be real here. That chick that was on last night, you know, the one that totally kicked Batali's ass? There's a female Iron Chef for you. Kick Cat to the curb, and put Chef des Jardine in there. What the hell was Mario thinking with that shrimp parfait thing anyway? Did you see that one judge almost puke right there on national TV. I was laughing my ass off.
Emeril. Just stop. All of it. We hit Maximum Emeril Capacity about 2 years ago. I can only stomach the same fucking joke 10,000 times before it starts to wear on me. Yes, where you get your spinach it doesn't come seasoned. We know. The studio audience maybe hasn't heard you say that 10 gazillion times, but your television audience has heard you say it every fucking episode for eight fucking years already. Stop it! And I've seen every fucking episode of The Soprano's at least twice, and I still have no fucking idea what you're talking about when you say your sink was a gift from the Sopranos. Someone explain this joke to me please.
Actually let me say that Emeril's show “The Essence of Emeril“ is really good, and quite entertaining. When you remove the audience you remove the entertainer from Emeril, and you're left with the chef. And he's pretty damn good, once you pummel the showman out of him.
Speaking of overload, I've seen more Bobby Flay than I deserve in 10 lifetimes, and I'd like him to just fucking disappear. There is not a single fucking show he's done that is worth the 30 minutes of life it has robbed from me. Yesterday I watched him put salt on BACON, for fuck's sake. I just sat there stunned. I wanted to call someone and ask if Bobby Flay had really just put salt on bacon, but frankly I don't know anyone that watches him. and I was just watching him because I had seen that episode of WSOP 3 times already. I want those 30 minutes back god dammit. And Iron Chef? Don't get me fucking started. He beats Morimoto with a fucking fish taco? Are you kidding me? Talk about a home-field advantage. It's time for America to stop giving this guy's ego a hand-job just because he makes the ladies swoon.
How to Boil Water. Look, it's OK to edit things out. I don't want to see little Jack get all teared up over cutting an egg salad sandwich in half when she wasn't supposed to. Why do I have to watch that? Someone needs to just say “Cut!“, grab two fresh slices of bread, and redo the damn thing. I feel bad for the woman. And how many chefs has that show gone through, anyway? You know, come to think of it, I don't think Jack was the original host either. What's going on over there?!?!
Speaking of Tyler Florence (and we were speaking of Tyler Florence, try to keep up), the show Tyler's Ultimate is annoying. You go and visit people who have been making a particular food for generations to see how it's done, and then you go back to your pad and make your “Ultimate“ version? Isn't that a bit arrogant? You think that the people who have been making it for hundreds of years have been doing it all wrong the whole time? Go back and do more Food 911, that was a good show.
Gordon Elliot. Stick to producing other people's shows. No more specials for you. We know where Normandy butter comes from, we don't need a special on it. How did you convince Food Network to fly you to France to bring some back to New York and watch someone cook it? Oh, and you're forbidden from standing next to Sara Moulton in front of a camera ever again. She's like 4 feet tall in heels, and you've gotta be 7 feet at least. You're scaring the children.
Everyday Italian. I have no idea how good Giada's food is and I don't even care. I watch the show anyway. Don't be stupid.
Hosts that creep me out: The Calorie Commando guy. Something wrong with the boy. Also the lady from Semi Homemade. The Low Carb and Loving it guy is a bit off. The Cookworks lady scares me, and I think she's probably beaten more than one sous chef to within an inch of his life (I can't back that up). Jacques Torres... Sorry man, I can't get past the transition from Camera 1 to Camera 2 that you always do 20 seconds into the show.
Hosts I'd like to see more of:

Alton Brown (that goes without saying, doesn't it?). Alton Brown makes Iron Chef America downright enjoyable to watch, and he keeps churning out great Good Eats episodes. And he's not even a chef!
Mario Batali. This guy annoyed the hell out of me when I first started watching him on Ciao Italia, or whatever his traveling show was called. But I've come to respect him, especially after watching him kick serious ass on Iron Chef. Some say he's the best chef in America.
Anthony Bourdain. Here's a guy that tells it like it is, without apology. On his show he drinks far more than he eats. If you want to know what it's like to be a chef, read his book Kitchen Confidential. I credit this man with keeping me out of the food business.
Wolfgang Puck. It would be so easy to put this guy on the Emeril/Flay over-exposed pile, but frankly he's a brilliant chef. If you have ever seen his show “Wolfgang Puck's Cooking Class“ you know what I mean.

Man, I was holding that post in for like ever. I'm spent.

Fatherly Advice

Beau Monday — Wed, 13 Jul 2005 07:52:00 GMT

My dad, who has had much more experience camping than I have, sent me an email this morning after reading my last post. He had some advice about bears:

About bears: Pee on everything you own. They won't fuck with crazy humans. Take the electric bug swatter I sent you, and extra batteries. If the bear gets past the smell of all that pee, he will have had to step in some of it, and now he has wet feet. Hit him with the bug swatter. This should fry his ass. Let me know if this works. If I don't hear from you I will know not to try it myself.

Love Dad

Thanks Dad. Let's call that “Plan B”, ok?

Things I Learned From Camping

Beau Monday — Tue, 12 Jul 2005 17:39:00 GMT

I'm not a huge fan of camping. In fact, I'm quite a noob when it comes to the subject. But it's something I'm going to work on this summer to balance out my tech-heavy work- and home-life.

So, with my first major multi-day camping trip under my belt, I thought I'd recap a few things I learned along the way:

Campfires are way more fun when you don't have to ration your wood supply
If you have to travel 4 hours on pavement, then another hour down a narrow dirt road to get to the campsite, you might want to pack in your own firewood. The chances of anyone sitting out there on a Sunday night selling wood are going to be pretty slim.
I'm not sure what is so darn fascinating about campfires, but I can watch one for hours and not get bored.
Ben Folds Five is darn good Starin'-Into-The-Fire music. So is Dire Straits (Brothers in Arms, not that early crap) and Faithless.
Bug spray and Pam non-stick cooking spray look a lot alike, and should probably be stored separately to avoid confusion.
Bug spray, no matter how closely the can resembles Pam cooking spay, does little to prevent food from sticking to your pan, nor does it add any appreciable flavor to the final dish.
Likewise, Butter-Flavored Pam does not have any bug repelling qualities whatsoever, and may actually attract them.
REI, even though I hate their anti-offroading politics, make a darn good tent. And any 4-person tent that can be put up in 15 minutes by a guy alone in the woods is a good tent.
No matter how much money you paid for the steak you are cooking for dinner, if all you have to cook it over is a portable stove and an aluminum pan, it's going to taste like shit. Or Deet.
Hohos make fatastic camp snacks. Durable little buggers.
Hot dogs cooked over an open camp fire might just be the best food on earth. Who needs steak?? Next time I go camping, it's all hot dogs, all the time.
If you can't find the hot dog buns, look under the heaviest thing in the Jeep. That's where they will be. Every fucking time. By the end of the trip they had found themselves, at one time or another, under a 12-pack of corona, a bag of ice, a big chunk of firewood, and I think I may have even sat on them once for good measure. I swear, by the time I actually got around to cooking some hot dogs, those buns were practically tortillas.
While bacon and eggs and fried potatoes all combine to make a fantastic breakfast, 2 of those 3 things will be stone cold by the time you get around to eating them if all you brought to cook with is a single-burner camp stove.
The sound a woodpecker makes is very similar to what I imagine a hungry grizzly bear sounds like.
The sounds you hear at dusk moving around the edge of the camp are probably just the result of a single woodpecker with a discerning taste in trees. And probably not a large posse of grizzly bears gathering just outside the range of your campfire waiting for you to doze off so they can make off with your Hohos. But no sense risking your Hoho stash. Best eat them all now, before you go to bed. That'll show those damn bears!

I'm heading back out this weekend, but only for a night, and to a place much closer to home. It should be even more fun if I remember everything I've learned so far!