Boomer Net

Our nation is bracing itself as the baby boomer generation dodders into retirement. Industry analysts have been calculating the stress this generation will inflict on our health care system and eventually our cemeteries. But I don't think we're considering the real problem. What about the stress on the interweb?



My mother recently sent an email to my son and me. I noticed that she had the wrong email address for my son.

me:	“Has Grammy ever sent you an email?”
son:	“What? What do you mean?”
me:	“I mean, since you've had your email address, has she ever sent you an email?”
son:	“Dad, I've had my email address for 2 years. I emailed her as soon as I got it. So she could put it in her address book.”
me:	“Right. And since that time, has she ever sent you an email?”
son:	“Dad, that's crazy. Wait. Oh my god.”
me:	“Say it...”
son:	“You know, I've never gotten an email from her.”
me:	“For 2 years.”
son:	“Why?”
me:	“She had the wrong email address in her address book.”
son:	“2 years? Didn't she get a delivery error or something?”
me:	“I'm sure she did.”
son:	“But she never knew what it was or did anything about it?”
me:	“Right.”
son:	“WOW!”

Our boomers also suffer from hearing loss. Tragically, they're unable to hear phrases like:

"DO NOT SEND ME EMAIL FORWARDS AND OR JOKE EMAILS!"

Go ahead and try it. Scream it, if you like. They still won't hear (listen to) you.
Even worse, they won't ever understand simple email etiquette. For example, if you must forward an email to someone, please have the courtesy to trim the chaff, maybe even personalize the message. I had the pleasure of receiving this email from my father-in-law:

with a staggering amount of chaff.



How many terabytes of bandwidth is consumed by boomer email traffic alone? How much disk space is wasted on the same WMV file depicting a monkey falling off of a branch after smelling his own finger? I'm treated to this gem (and many others) about once a year.

Snarky Son

My oldest son has developed a cutting sense of humor. I'm not sure where he gets it. Probably from school.Sherry was holding up individual housewarming gifts a friend had given her to show me:

Sherry:	“See? I got a some chocolate, a cookbook, a measuring cup, and (showing oddly shaped kitchen shears) scissors for cutting.”
son:	“Really? For cutting”
me:	“He's gotta point.”
Sherry:	“Nice.”

We were shopping at Lowe's. I was busy trying to figure out which plumbing parts I needed for our bathroom renovation. I heard an announcement over the P.A. system about a car in the parking lot. I ignored it.

son:	“Dad, did you hear that?”
me:	“Uh, yeah, but I wasn't listening.”
son:	“They said that there was a red Honda Civic illegally parked in the parking lot and that it was going to be towed.”
me:	“REALLY?!”
son:	“...(rolling his eyes) No dad. And we drove the van.”

Oldest son and I were having a nice conversation about cars. It's a common interest we share, so it makes it easy for us to have father-son-bonding moments. It was going well until he decided to dial-in a little more snark:

me:	“Oh, I had an idea. You know how the stuff always rolls around in the---”
son:	“wait---”
me:	“Hold on, let me finish. The stuff in the trunk is always---”
son:	“Dad, wait!”
me:	“What?!”
son:	“(pausing for dramatic effect; revealing just a hint of a smile)...You have an idea. I just thought you'd want to savor the moment...”
me:	“(struggling to conceal my pride)...Wow...That's harsh!”
son:	“(still maintaining his composure)...Did you to want write this one down? Just to make sure it sounds right, you know, before you embarrass yourself.”

World Wide Asshole

Over a year ago I published an article about the sweet demise of my childhood bully. I know you probably think I'm sick in the head, and I am. But luckily, I have someone to blame.

Writing that article was a cathartic experience for me, and to this day, rereading it lifts my spirits.

I noticed that the visitor count on my blog was steadily rising. I thought this was kind of odd. Sites usually become more popular because they produce compelling content at regular and frequent intervals. Then I realized that the majority of my hits were coming from Google Image Search. People who searched for an image of an "asshole" were rewarded with David Fleming's high school yearbook photo. Awesome.

Warning: Unless you're a Goatse fan, you may want to edit your Google search preferences and the set SafeSearch Filtering to Moderate before you perform this search.

Over the past 6 months I've been watching Mr. Fleming's Google Asshole Index rise. When I first started checking (Yes, I was checking regularly. Shut up.), he appeared on about third page. I got more and more excited whenever his Asshole Index afforded him a higher result position. It was kind of like watching the ball drop on New Year's Eve, or refreshing the Olsen Twins legal age countdown page.





When he finally broke into the top ten, I just couldn't contain myself. I had to let someone know. It feels good knowing that people all over the world associate "asshole" with "David Fleming".

Friendly Competition

It's been a little over a year since I started working at the new company.

I'm feeling more comfortable with my coworkers. Mr. Kratzer and I figured it was time for some friendly competition.



Bring it on Highspire First Church of God. Bring it on.

In related news, one of my religious coworkers tried argue that because atheists are morally bankrupt, it would OK steal candy from our box. Yawn.

Just two days after the competition began, our opponent resigned and removed their candy box.

God Is Love

I was treated to this inspiring bumper sticker on my drive home from work.

SIN-KILLS
THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH
ARE YOU SAVED?

Ummm...I could just feel the warmth of God's love embrace my soul.

Yup, I'm still an atheist. Sharing heaven with this guy would be hell.

Salad Fingers

My middle son scares me sometimes. For example, he recently introduced me to his favorite interweb video, Salad Fingers, which is an episodic cartoon produced by David Firth. It's dark, disturbing, and not for everyone.

I experienced uneasy pride as I thoroughly enjoyed episode 4. He wanted me to watch this one first, because he thought it would speak to me. He was right. I found it to be creepy yet hilarious. The main character is a green, three-fingered being with bad teeth. He enjoys role playing, rusty metal and blood. Why, it practically writes itself!

Mr Firth is a genius. And for that, I'll gladly purchase some of his apparel.

I Hate People: part 4, The Trash Fairies Get Creative

Why does this keep happening to me?

There haven't been any notable trash events on the sidewalk in front of our house in recent weeks.

Maybe that's because the Trash Fairies moved their base of operations to the alley behind our house.

What is their motivation?

Why do they need to lynch a bag of trash?

Why do they do this stuff near me?

Digital Video Sucks Ass

An open letter to the digital video/codec industry:

Dear Assclowns:

May you all burn in eternal hellfire.

Sincerely,

JC Mann

I borrowed a digital video camera so that I could record my son's talent show act. It was a cheap, $100, no-name device, but it was better than nothing at all. I recorded the act without any problems. I brought the camera home and plugged it into my computer using the "specially designed" USB cable (Yes, you special-cable-connector-designin'-assclowns are next).

I opened the .mov file to view my masterpiece. QuickTime started playing the video immediately...sans video. While I listened to the audio, QuickTime presented me with a window containing a completely white canvas. Thanks QT. Good work. Onto other players. MPlayer? Same thing. I tried VLC, and it worked...but not without spewing tons of warning messages about the codec! Grinning like an idiot, I watched my son's act in all its splendor, rendered in grainy low-resolution video accompanied by tinny mono audio. What an age we live in.



It's hard to imagine what goes on at these big technology companies that produce our wonderful consumer electronics.

tech-lead:	“OK people, how are we gonna store the video for our new camcorder? We need ideas.”
new guy:	“We could use MPEG. It's used in tons of places: DVDs, HD transmission, HD-DVDs, and Blue Ray. It's kind of become the de facto standard, so the chip sets for encoding and decoding have become a commodity.”
awkward glances
tech-lead:	“OK, we need ideas people.”
engineer 1:	“I've just finished developing my own codec.”
tech-lead:	“Fantastic. License?”
engineer 1:	“Oh, it's all our intellectual property.”
engineer 2:	“How well does it compress?”
engineer 1:	“Sometimes a little better than MPEG. I pretty much took the MPEG algorithm and tweaked it.”
tech-lead:	“Software compatibility?”
engineer 1:	“I've written a plug-in for Windows Media Player.”
tech-lead:	“So, it will only work with Windows?”
engineer 1:	“Well, if they're running Vista with the latest OS patches.”
tech-lead:	“Wait, what about other OS's?”
engineer 2:	“What other OS's?!”
laughter
engineer 1:	“I guess it could be reverse engineered, but by the time it is, we'll be using a different codec.”
tech-lead:	“Right. Of course. It's always worked for us in the past.”
engineer 2:	“Is the plug-in secure?”
engineer 1:	“Well, not really. It could allow a hacker to execute arbitrary code.”
tech-lead:	“Whoa-whoa. That sounds bad.”
engineer 1:	“I'm thinkin', when was the last time a hacker was able compromise a plug-in for Windows Media Player?”
tech-lead:	“Good point.”

Purrfect Cook

Sherry is a fantastic cook. This is the only thing she makes that turns my stomach.

Yes, it's edible. I guess real kitty litter is edible too, but I'm sure this dish tastes much better. I know it has melted tootsie rolls, pudding, crumbled cookies, and green food coloring.

The poo slung over the side and the real kitty litter scoop are great features of the presentation.

Plumbing Fun

Living in an old house, it's kind of expected that the drains are "slow-to-move" (That's what the plumbers like to say).

Our bathroom sink was always problem. I know this because Sherry was always bringing it to my attention.

After seven years and 20 bottles of Drāno I thought it might be time to see what the problem was. Hum, what's this? A 20-year-old toothbrush encased hair and sludge? Yum.

Note to self: Drāno will not dissolve a toothbrush.

SPF 0

This winter weather we're having has me longing for summer. Which reminds me of an annual argument my wife and I have sometime in the middle of June.

I come home from work and see that my beautiful wife has been burnt to a crisp by Mr. Sun.

me (head):	“Christ. Every fuckin' year. We have to say something.”
me:	“Nice.”
Sherry:	(feigning ignorance) “What.”
me (head):	“And here we go...”
me:	“How's that sunscreen? Is it still in the bottle?”
Sherry:	“I used it. I swear!”
me (head):	“Say something sarcastic. Something witty!”
me:	“Right.”
me (head):	“See, this is why we never win arguments with her.”
Sherry:	“Ask the kids.”
Oldest Son:	“Dad, she put it on. I saw her. She put it on herself after she put it on us.”
Sherry:	(grinning like an idiot) “See?”
me (head):	“First rule of Parent Fight Club: don't involve the kids.”
me:	“So you put it on and then...what? You took a shower?”
Sherry:	“It must have washed off in the pool.”
me:	“Really. If that's the case, then the kids should be burnt as well.”
Sherry:	“I don't know. It doesn't matter. I'm not like you. This will turn into a nice tan in two days.”
me (head):	“That's why she does it. Every fuckin' year. Say something. Let her know that we're on to her.”
me:	“I'm gonna play Quake now.”

And so my thoughts are littered with images of Sherry at the beach with her grandchildren.

Mmmmm. GILF.

I Know a Guy Who Knows a Guy

We have/had the worst oil company ever.

Instead of spending my morning protesting in front of the local church, I was busy calling home heating oil companies. After twenty-three separate, "I'm sorry, sir, we only provide emergency service to existing customers," dead ends, I gave my neighbor a call. He's a man who's spent his life in Carlisle and seems to know a little something about everyone.

He leans on me for geek support, I lean on him when I have...I don't...I can't think of...any other kind of problem.

me:	“Hey, man. I got a problem with my furnace and I was wondering if you could help"”
John:	“Sure. What do you need"”
me:	“Um, two hundred fifty gallons of oil.”
John:	“Dauphin Oil left you high and dry.”
me:	“Yeah...how'd you know"”
John:	“Oh, everyone knows they've been havin' problems lately. I bet you're havin' fun tryin' to get someone to fill up your tank on a Sunday.”
me:	“I called everyone I could find in the phone book. They all tell me the same thing.”
John:	“That they only help existing customers, right"”
me:	“Right.”
John:	“OK, let me make a few calls. I'll call you back in a few minutes.”
me:	“K. Thanks.”
a few minutes later
John:	“OK, here's what you need to do. Call Carlisle Petroleum and...”
me:	“I already called them.”
John:	“Well, call them again. But this time, tell the person that the message is for Paul.”
me:	“Paul"”
John:	“Paul. And tell them that you're a customer of Dauphin Oil.”
me:	“OK. Is that it"”
John:	“Yeah. She won't do anything until you tell her that the message is for Paul.”
me:	“Tell her the message is for Paul and that I'm a customer of Dauphin Oil.”
John:	“Yeah. Tell them that and you'll have heat in an hour.”
CPI Service:	“I'm sorry sir, we only provide emergency service to existing...”
me:	“This message is for Paul. Please tell Paul that I need oil.”
CPI Service:	“....OK, can I have your address and phone number please.”

Fifty minutes later? Heat.

Sometimes I pee a little when I cough -Sometimes I ejaculate a little when I yawn

Don't ask me how I found this. I don't want to talk about it.

Clomipramine, is an antidepressant that has many interesting side effects. This one grabbed my attention: yawns can cause orgasms. The second case, "... A married male in his mid-twenties ...", was my favorite.

My mind was/is reeling thinking about the recreational possibilities this drug possesses (wow that word has a lot of S's).

Sherry, if you start taking this drug, can I watch? Imagine, you could climax before, during and after sex!

After I tell you a really funny and witty joke: orgasm.
After I tell you about my exciting day at work: orgasm.
During the 90 minutes of SNL: orgasm.
Morning: orgasm.
Night: orgasm.
An hour after eating turkey: oh god. oh god! orgasm.

Unfortunately, there are several not so entertaining side effects:

... , enlarged/painful breasts, unwanted breast milk production, irregular/painful menstrual periods, ... , trouble urinating, severe vomiting, ... , unusual/uncontrolled movements (especially of the tongue/face/lips), ... , black stools, ... ,vomit that looks like coffee grounds.

Coffee grounds!?

Prison Break Pooch

When we first got Squirtle (yeah, don't let your kids name your pets), he was nice dog. He didn't know where he was allowed to shit, but that's expected of a 3 month-old pup. He was lovable; like, kids could pet him without losing a finger.

Squirtle's temperament is getting progressively worse as he approaches senior citizenship (The veterinarian tells me that a dog is a senior citizen at 8 years-old). He has bitten or attempted to bite every member of our family and all of the other pets. Nice doggie.

This weekend his aggression has reached a new high (low?). We came home from the movies to find the results of his failed prison break. He was able to bend a few of the steel bars. As you can see he was successful at breaking one of the welds.

Maybe he knows he's on death row.

One Love

A friend of my mine, who asked that he remain nameless...you're welcome. Sent me this great music video. I love cover bands.

While we are talking about asses: Another friend (if you haven't been following along, that's TWO friends) sent me this picture of Jesus. Sheep go to heaven. Goats go to hell.

Unsupervised Halloween

I took the kids out for trick-or-treat last night.

The experience was typical. The community involvement covered the wide spectrum.

1. misanthrope -- no lights on; leave us alone



2. bucket -- a bucket of candy on the porch; this always works because kids will only take one piece of candy



3. heart beat -- real people handing out candy; slightly more involved than a bucket



4. normal -- lots of Halloween decorations and scary music; real people handing out the candy and actually attempting to interact with kids



5. Martha Stewart -- full-on Halloween party including: tent housing two picnic tables and chairs; picnic-type foods: hot-dogs and condiments, chips, and drinks (hot chocolate, juice boxes, water, and soda); music, decorations, and fancy lighting

There was one house that didn't really fit in. A few yoots set up shop in the their parent's garage. Strobe lights and industrial music set the mood. Just as the trick-or-treaters entered the garage, one of the teens would surprise them from behind with a real circular saw. It's unmistakable metallic whine was easy to hear over the blaring music. Yes, it had a blade. I guess they thought that the safety shield would be enough. One of the other yoots demonstrated his pyrotechnic prowess by creating a flamethrower using a lighter and a can of Static Guard.

Scary.

I Hate People: part 3, The Trash Fairy Strikes Back

Back in the day I wrote about the trash fairies visiting my sidewalk.

2006.10.16, 9:55PM: Two guys wearing coats that were inappropriately large/warm for 50 degree weather were hanging out in front of my house. The suspects were making noise, smoking cigarettes, and oh, smashing a mountain bike.

Path #1: Call the police and describe to the dispatcher the scene unfolding in front of me as I peer through the curtains. By the time the police cruiser is deployed to the crime scene, the loiterers are long gone. The police officer and I share awkward glances as we stare at the lump of metal that used to be a bicycle.

Path #2: Finish watching the end of Heroes.

Both paths lead to: JC cleans up bike parts from the sidewalk.

Martyr

It's only been two days since I left CBC, and it appears that I've already been martyred.

I get 70 virgins right? Can I request a body type? I don't want any of mine to have a BMI greater than 19. Oh and A-cups please, although if you want to sprinkle in few B and C cups I won't argue.

Knowing my luck, they'll get on the same cycle.

What happens when they're no longer virgins? Do I get a new batch? Or do I have to be martyred again?

Smarmy Ornery Hen

Need a name for your interweb alter-ego? Try the Internet Anagram Server. Deviousbard (see? It worked for him.) introduced it to me. I found the advanced search to be much more useful.

Sherry:

• Marry Horny Semen


• Horny Means Merry


• Marry Senor Hymen


• Ornery Man Rhymes


• Smarmy Ornery Hen

Oldest son:

• Amen Nerd


• Nerd Name


• Mean Nerd


• Damn near even

Youngest son:

• Fang Firm Inn


• Snarf in clam fungi

Daughter:

• Mutant Man


• Tan mum ant

Me:

• Her clansman John

Have fun.

An Easy Target

Everyone knows that Sherry is a TV nut. But I have to say, it was pretty funny to see a hand written note depicting the up coming TV schedule. Here is a computerized rendering of the note:

	8PM	9PM	10PM
Sun	Amazing Race (C) Simpsons (F)	Family Guy (F)	Brothers & Sisters (A)
Mon	Prison Break (F)	Heroes (N) Runway (CW)	Brian (A) Studio 60 (N)
Tues	Fri Night Lights (N) Gilmore (CW)	Knights (A)
Wed	Jericho (C)	Lost (A)	The Nine (A) Kidnapped (N)
Thurs	Ugly Betty (A) Earl/Office (N) Survivor (C)	Grey's (A)	Six Degrees (A) ER (N)

You're welcome!

See Sherry? Why are you still using paper? You can even add links to the various shows. Here is my schedule for the upcoming TV season:

	8PM	9PM	10PM
Sun	Simpsons (F)	Family Guy (F)	Quake
Mon	Quake	Heroes (N)	Girls Gone Wild
Tues	binge/purge	teen porn
Wed	asian porn	Lost (A)	play with air compressor
Thurs	Earl/Office (N)	burn stuff	Quake

I noticed you have an opening in your schedule Tuesday nights at 10PM. I left that time open as well. Wink wink. Nudge Nudge.