The Smell of Love

They've done it! Researchers have isolated the chemical compounds that turn women on. It a pretty long and detail article, so allow me to summarize.

Scientists have determined that by combining the three key fragrances they are able create the ultimate "Spanish Fly". Here they are:

• Argulosathane¹


• The smell of money


• New-car smell

I'm signing my wife up to be in the clinical trials.

¹Argulosathane is the substance the male body secretes at the moment it loses an argument with a female. This substance is particularly potent when the male party bases his argument strictly on logic and reality, but the female party wins using vague emotions and flawed logic.

Update 4.26.2006

There has been some confusion about this post. Some people aren't sure which part of it is a joke.

The article is true. Scientists have created synthetic chemical called PT-141. Impossible as this may seem, PT-141 makes women horny. The article is long and boring for most people, but I enjoyed reading it. A five page article about sex and science? Are you kidding me? I was sportin' a chubby the whole time. The stuff about the three key fragrances was a joke.

Argulosathane --> not real
PT-141 --> real

The Little League Season from Hell

This is turning out to be a spectacular Little League season. Here is list of reasons in no particular order:

1. We have a wonderful sponsor...but you know all about them.


2. We have one experienced coach. There are two assistant coaches, me (the village idiot) and another guy.


3. We have one experienced pitcher. This is a problem in Little League because there are all kinds of rules about how much a kid can pitch in one week. The token "stacked" team has eight experienced pitchers.


4. So far there has been a lot of cheating. In the first two games, the stacked team used an illegal bat (a softball bat -- larger sweet spot and larger barrel) and two illegal pitchers (too old). They don't have to cheat against our team to win. They just have show up.


5. We are by far the weakest team in the league. I'll be surprised if we win a single game.


6. The father of one of our players was arrested for downloading child pornography. He's lookin' at 10 years of prison time. The neat part? He's out on bail right now and he likes to show up at the games. That kind of puts a damper our team's cheering section.

A Blogging Opportunity

The user admin pages for Blogger are down...that means millhousethecat wasn't able to post this morning. Boy is she pissed.

However, you can clearly see that I'm able to post.

Sincerely,

A reliable blogger

ENT Doctor Part 2

I had to visit the ENT doctor again.

This visit was much less painful. No deep probing this time. Just a quick look at my nose again.

In the "I-shit-you-not" category:

doctor:	“You know, the problem isn't with your nose.”
He surface probed my nose with a very bright flashlight
me:	“OK, what's the problem?”
doctor:	“It's your tongue. It's unusually large. When you sleep, it flops back and obstructs your airway. If we just cut your tongue out, you wouldn't have a problem.”
me (in my head):	“OK. That's something most people can joke about...but not a surgeon.”
me:	“My wife would like that.”
The silent nurse gave me an awkward glance.
doctor:	“You know, I have this idea. I know it would work, I just don't have a way of making it happen. If you stick your tongue in front of your bottom teeth like this...”
He then demonstrated the tongue placement, until it appeared as though he was packing chewing tobacco between his lip and gum.
doctor:	“You thee? Ith you thtick it out there, it won't obthruct your airway.”
me:	“That...doesn't seem...realistic.”
doctor:	“This is my idea. You know how you can get a tiny hole pierced in the tip of your tongue? Kids these days are doing it all the time.”
me (in my head):	“Oh. Then it must be a good idea.”
doctor:	“I'd install a tiny hook below your front teeth. At night, you'd hitch your pierced tongue to the hook. Thith will keep your tongue outh of the way.”
me (in my head):	“...Just say something...that way you can get out of here faster...”
me:	“...Did you patent your idea?”
doctor:	“No. I don't have the time or the means.”
me (in my head):	“Yeah...you're spending too much time being crazy.”
me:	“Good luck with that.”

Hyperdog

Yesterday I bought a HyperDog. This thing is well worth the money. As the name implies, it's designed to be a dog toy, but I'm not using that way. Are you surprised?Currently, I am the favorite parent. The kids absolutely love this thing. It's capable of launching a tennis ball at an incredible high velocity. Because it doesn't put any spin on the ball, every shot is like a knuckle-ball. As the ball screams along at 600fps, it has a weird random movement. When I first saw it, I couldn't believe my eyes.

My oldest son is delighted. I'm finally able to help him practice his fielding at a level he finds challenging without killing my shoulder. I have to say I was pretty impressed. "Hit me dad" he said as he patted his hand on his chest. "Are you sure?" I said...mostly for liability/insurance reasons. "Yeah. Come on. Hit me." he said as he stood in the ready position. I drew back as far as I could pull and released a line drive to his head. The ball hurled toward him giving him very little time to react. I held my breath, as he unflinchingly gloved the ball threw it back to me. Cool. "Awesome Dad. Hit me again. This time make it a grounder." I could do this all day. "Dad, you could do this all day."

The nice feature: The kids can't use it. Their arms aren't long enough to get any kind of power out of it. Now I don't have to worry that my son will try to hunt his little sister.

Editor's Note: Day four of posting every day. I'm experiencing blurred vision and frequent headaches. Must...keep...going. I can do this.

Eats for Geeks

Skinny and I have been hooked on Sheetz's MTO for years. For a geek, the service is near perfection:

• no eye contact required


• no speaking required


• cool touch-screen computer used to place order


• no order ambiguity


• chicks stare in amazement as you quickly navigate the order interface

It appears Red Robin has been working to remove the human component from their dining experience as well. Sweet Tea just told me about Red Robin's Burger Customizer. It's much like MTO, only flashier. You use the power of the interweb to customize your burger while sitting in the privacy of your own home naked from the waist down. When you're finished, you can printed it out and hand it to a server (a person, not a computer) at Red Robin.

I can't wait to try it. I bet I can complete an entire Red Robin dining transaction without uttering a single word to the help.

Technology Rules!

Religion and Weather Forecasting

This just in: Scientists are now using religion to forecast severe weather patterns.

This site has proven to be extremely valuable to the weather forecasting community.

Christians are best for predicting the location of tornadoes and while Baptists are use to predict the location of hurricanes.

With the use of this site and a little prayer, maybe they'll be able to achieve a success rate of 20% or more.

Godspeed.

No Love From Grande

Grande? I changed the layout. No comments? It's narrower now.

I have to so say this is a first for me. I've never been too wide for anyone.

Now you can view it on your cellphone.

You're welcome.

ENT Doctor

Just another chapter in the never ending snoring saga.

I visited an Ear Nose & Throat doctor to see if there is any way they can increase the airflow through my nose and throat, thus rendering the awesome CCRAP useless.

The doctor sprayed something in my nose and then left me alone with a tissue for 5 minutes. This disgusting spray is used to "open you up so we can see what's going on in there." As I waited I didn't really think about what he might have meant.

He returned with a nurse, but made like she wasn't there. I wondered why she was there. I stared at her, thinking that might help. I was hoping she might look at me and give me some indication, like "I'm here to mop up the blood/mucus/vomit after the doctor is finished with you." I got nothin'. To make matters worse, she was holding something behind her back. I started to get a sinking feeling.

The doctor nodded to the nurse and she finally revealed what she was hiding. She handed a the doctor a black shiny cylinder that was about the size of a flashlight. A 12" long, 1/4" diameter black flexible tube extended from the bottom of the device. Yup, something bad was about to happen. He moved in for the kill.

doctor:	“OK, let's have a look see.”
He held my head firmly against the head rest with his left hand while he wielded the Implement of Infinite Pain and Sorrow with his right hand.
doctor:	“Just relax...”
me (in my head):	“Not relaxing! Not relaxing!”
doctor:	“...and we'll see what's going on up there. I'm just gonna stick this here...”
me (in my head):	“OH MY GOD! What the hell are you doing to me!?”
At this point I lurched away from him. He responded by pressing harder against my head with his hand.
doctor:	“No No. You can't move.”
me:	“Right.”
He proceeded to navigate my nasal passage with his Implement of Infinite Pain and Sorrow. Meanwhile, on the receiving team, I was glazed in a cold sweat. The pain was phenomenal. And I knew that if I responded at all to the pain, it would only get worse.
He had all of these little tricks to get his probe past certain parts of my airway.
doctor:	“OK make the sound like 'eeeee'.”
me:	“whimper ... eeeee”
doctor:	“excellent, now I want you to breathe in through your nose as hard as you can.”
me:	“sniff....whimper...”
doctor:	“great, now press your tongue hard against the top of your mouth.”
It was then that I realized just how far he'd ...err...explored. I felt the Implement of Infinite Pain and Sorrow touch the side of my airway about 2" below my mouth. I responded my pushing even more sweat out of every gland I had.
doctor:	“Wonderful. I've seen enough.”
me (in my head):	“Really? Nothing more? You don't want scrape a mucus sample from one of my lungs while you're down there?”
He backed the Implement of Infinite Pain and Sorrow out with amazing speed. He scraped in weird places here and there, but I was numb to the pain by now.
I exhaled.
doctor:	“OK. It looks like you have two options. We can perform an operation using electrocauterization to remove some excess tissue from the back of your throat. Oh, and we'd remove your uvula during that procedure.”
me:	“Electrocauterization. That's burning my flesh with electricity?”
doctor:	“Yes. That way there is no bleeding.”
me:	“That sounds painful.”
doctor:	“Yes, it's very painful. And this type of operation has a 50%-60% success rate.”
me:	“OK.”
doctor:	“...That's not very good.”
me (in my head):	“What about me says 'dumb-ass' to you?”
doctor:	“The other procedure is a little more complex, but it has a 85%-90% success rate.”
me (in my head):	“More complex than burning my flesh with high voltage electricity. This should be good.”
doctor:	“It involves moving your entire jaw forward.”
me:	“That doesn't sound very complex.”
me (in my head):	“Doctor's don't get sarcasm.”
doctor:	“Well...it's an eight hour operation in which we break your upper and lower jaw bones and reconstruct them. Your jaw will then be wired shut for several weeks after operation.”
me:	“K. Ouch.”
doctor:	“So, we'll need to give this some thought.”
me (in my head):	“Thanks...because I was just about to order two of each operation.”

I'd rather just snore for the rest of my life and risk dying in my sleep.

White Sponsorship : Update #2

It was Opening Day for our local Little League baseball teams. A player from the very first White C****e sponsored team, who is now an upstanding member of White C****e himself, was there to accept a plaque on behalf of the "Men's Club." Why? The league wanted to honor them for lynching minorities sponsoring local Little League teams since the league was established in 1947. Yey. They even let him throw the first pitch. This story will not die.

In related news: A reliable source/friend gave me some information. She actually knew two members of the "Men's Club." She told me that they are in fact white supremacists and enjoy the occasional cross burning.

Changes

A brand new look

I've made some cosmetic changes. Duh! I hope you like them. Deppen, I'm sorry to introduce so much change at one time. We'll get through this together.

As you can see, I'm having some trouble creating an icon that I like. I'll get it...just give me some time.

Member's Only (sorry, no jackets)

I'm been receiving a ton of spam (splog). I guess it was only a matter of time. I've decided to use the chalkdust approach: member logins. I don't like it, but for now, this is how it's gotta be. I've setup accounts for the usual visitors. If you haven't received your account information, it is probably because of one or more reasons:

• I just forgot about you.
• I don't have your email address.
• You've never posted a comment, so I didn't see the point.
• I don't want you to have an account.

If you would like an account, just email me. If you don't know my email address or can't figure out what it is, then you probably shouldn't be asking for an account.

Ring My Bell

Ring it hard and ring it long.

And to think, I was embarrassed when my mom walked in on me...er...ringing my bell.

White Sponsorship : Update

It was field maintenance day for my son's Little League. Lots of the coaches and parents showed up to help get the fields ready for the season. This was the perfect time to investigate further into dealings of the sponsor for my son's team.

I saw two guys having a private discussion. I've seen these guys before. They have been involved with the Little League for at least 7 years. And I was pretty sure they both have lived in this town for their entire lives. Surely they know something.

me:	“So, what's deal with the White C****e club.”
Mr. Defensive:	“What do you mean?”
me:	“I just wanna know more about them. No one seems to know very much.”
Mr. Defensive:	“They're a great sponsor. That's all you need to know. They've been sponsoring local sports programs for like 50 years.”
me:	“Great. So their money is green. What color is their membership?”
me (in my head):	“Nice and subtle. Good job.”
Mr. Scary:	“You wanna know if they're a white supremacy group?”
me (in my head):	“Wow...I wasn't ready to get to the point that quickly.”
me:	“uh...yeah.”
Mr. Defensive:	“Look. It isn't like they are going around lynching people. They may have started that way, but that's not what they are about.”
me:	“OK. I called the borough office and asked about them.”
they both laughed briefly
Mr. Scary:	“What did they say?”
me:	“Hardly anything. Just that they're a men's club. And that they haven't caused any trouble.”
Mr. Defensive:	“See? They are just a men's club.”
me:	“Yes. But I...”
Mr. Scary:	“Look. Let me give you some advice.”
me (in my head):	“Oh great. I love unsolicited advice.”
Mr. Scary:	“If you are ever invited to the White C****e Club, they'll offer you two ashtrays, a white one and a black one. Take the white ashtray.”
me (in my head):	“Cool. I'll just asked one of my racist friends for an invite.”
me:	“...But I don't smoke.”
Mr. Defensive:	“Just take the white ashtray.”
me (in my head):	“Don't say anything. Don't say anything.”
me:	“We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weather today.”