Government taking our sunlight...

(Is there a rule as to how long political signs have to stay up on the side of the road after an election? I was sick of looking at pictures of Christine O’Donnell before; now that there is no legitimate reason for me to care about her I really don’t know why I have to see the signs. Though I will admit that her candidacy was the only way for the rest of the country to remember that Delaware is technically a state which, too be honest, is questionable at best.)

This is also the time of year where I make my typical remarks around how horrible Daylight Savings Time is. Actually, this weekend is the one I like as it a) gives me an extra hour of sleep and b) for a short period of time actually puts my body on the right schedule. See, my natural tendency is to sleep later than I should and stay up later than I should for my work schedule. Switching the clocks back an hour makes my body match up with the time for once. The fact that it was pitch black at 5:30 is not what one would call a nice thing but this time change doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the one in the spring. Still, just another sign that we are nearing the time of year where you wake up in the dark, go home in the dark and spend the rest of the time in a windowless box looking at a computer screen. Isn’t modern life wonderful?

In the “You know how lazy you are” story of the day, one of the Chilean miners completed the New York City marathon today in five hours and forty minutes. I, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered to get up off the couch in order to run on the treadmill. The miner in question was the one who not only sang Elvis songs to keep everyone’s spirits up but also would run several miles every day inside the mine in order to keep himself together. All of which makes me wonder if they had that much space and free time why didn’t they do any actual mining? They were down there for two months so you would think that they could have dug up some gold while they were at it.

Last thought of the night as I know that this has been a completely random post. I’ve been watching Holmes on Homes on HGTV recently and I have realized that once I actually purchase a house that I am completely screwed. While Holmes is awesome as the only contractor on the planet who legitimately cares about his work the show basically puts the fear of God in the hearts of anyone who even thinks about owning a place. It is just one piece of bad construction after another that no homeowner would ever catch. Plus, you realize just how little you actually know about construction. If I was forced to maintain my own place alone I’d be living in a tent by the end of the week.

Best of 120 Minutes: Ever notice how certain bars have certain songs? As in that for some reason it is tradition that one song must be played on the jukebox every night even though it hasn’t been a hit in well over a decade. Well at Kelly’s in Kansas City it was James “Laid”. Of all the songs that one could choose this is actually a really good one. No one ever explained to me why this spoke to the people of Kansas City but hey, it was Kansas City. It will never make any sense.



The five random CDs for the week:
1) White Rabbits “Fort Nightly”
2) Mike Doughty “Sad Man Happy Man”
3) Keb’ Mo’ “Just Like You”
4) The Minus 5 “Down with Wilco”
5) The V-Roys “Are You Through Yet?”

I shall do exactly 6.02 shots

I want to start off by wishing everyone a happy Mole Day on Friday. 10/23 get it? Damnit, Sheldon would have found that funny.

So I am now being confronted with all types of political advertising as I drive to work in the morning. As this is an off election year we are dealing with all of those local races that no one cares about and you are completely surprised that the candidates can even afford yard signs. Especially for the candidate who is running for Coroner. I’m not making this up. Not only is there an election for the job of coroner but people are also openly campaigning for it.

I am at a loss to think of what a debate between coroner candidates would look like. Would they be quizzed on their favorite Quincy episodes? Would imply that the other will, on occasion, wear a patient’s brains as a coonskin cap? Or state that their opponent simply “Really likes dead bodies if you know what I mean?” What should my criteria be in this election anyway?

On another note, it looks like Lil Wayne will be getting a year’s worth of jail time for a gun charge. Let’s study how this will impact his musical career, shall we? Tupac averages a new record every year despite the slight problem of being, for all technical purposes, dead. And we’re not talking “spending a year deceased for tax purposes like Hotblack Desiato” I’m talking when he rolls over in his grave the Earth has to shift type of deceased. So I’m thinking that a year in prison should equate to a five disc box set for Lil Wayne. Ah hip hop, the musical genre where neither death nor imprisonment nor talent get in the way of new record releases.

Since we are going into the last weekend before Halloween (and since I am obviously grasping for topics tonight) I think it is time to start discussing costumes. Especially with Halloween being on a Saturday this year even if you just want to have a normal Saturday night at the bar, sitting on your stool in the corner, talking to no one, and drinking until you can no longer remember your own name, you will now be forced to deal with people in fancy outfits. My question is: at what age is dressing up in a costume to go to a bar no longer appropriate?

I am not questioning wearing a costume to a costume party. There it is a social norm and often there are prizes involved. Or at least that is what I assume happens at those parties. Certainly I will never question wearing a costume to either a science fiction or comic book convention. I mean, do you know what people would say to me if I went to a Star Wars convention in anything other than my Wedge Antilles costume? I would never be able to show my face in public again. But to a bar? That just seems a different matter.

I think at some point you reach an age where doing something because it is fun and stupid no longer becomes acceptable. Dressing up as a human sperm when you are 23? Perfectly understandable. Wearing face paint when you are 35? Kind of depressing. Any thoughts on this matter? Or should I just break out the penguin costume one last time?

We now care about Jersey?

I hate to say this but I kind of wish that we had a small boy floating away in a balloon right about now. At least that way I would have a ready made topic to write about. I mean, what am I supposed to write about? The runoff election in Afghanastan? The continuing debate on health care? The fact that one of the candidates for New Jersey governor is so fat that it may prevent him from getting elected?

Actually, I’ll at least touch on that last one. First off, while Christie is rather large he is not what we would describe as “Orca Fat” in the wonderful language of Kayser Soze. True, he could definitely spend some time on Wii Fit but I don’t see it as a reason why he cannot hold public office. What I do have an issue with is the fact that I have to watch commercials for New Jersey political races. I thought it was bad in KC where I had to deal with both Kansas and Missouri debates: mainly Kansas residents voting on how much corn to plant and Missouri residents trying to approve casinos and brothels for Branson. Now I have to watch commercials for Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware. And I’m not even sure if Delaware technically has a government. For all I know governor is chosen by a game of musical chairs.

(Ages and ages ago I wrote a story about an international musical chairs tournament. Given that the Rock, Paper, Scissors championship has been broadcast on ESPN I think I might need to advance this topic a little more.)

I’ll close up with a My Beloved Lindsay update. One of the gossip websites I read (and yes, there are several) did a before and after picture of Miss Lohan from just three years ago. She goes from looking kind of drunk but still attractive to looking like that forty eight year old woman at the end of the bar smoking unfiltered cigarettes and looking at you way too closely. I mean, the combination of hard partying and botox has taken someone who was naturally very pretty and turned her into something that can’t even be described as a shell of her former self. At least shells are clean and pure. She’s more like the empty hamburger wrapper of her former self. Personally, I like the story that people want her to go to rehab but she won’t because she wouldn’t be allowed to drink there. If you are going to go out you might as well do it in style.