Bon Voyage

This afternoon at 4:00, Leigh and I departed from Galveston, Texas on the Carnival cruise ship The Conquest. As I’m writing this, we’re in the Gulf of Mexico, several hundred miles from Galveston. On Wednesday, we’ll make a stop in Montego Bay, Jamaica.

This is our first cruise, and it’s a little odd. Neither of us has felt sea-sick or anything, but the gentle pitching and yawing of the ship is a little disconcerting. I’m starting to get used to it now, but for a while it was a little like being a tad bit drunk without having had a drop to drink…more’s the pity.

But the ship is pretty damn amazing. It’s a huge thing, and there’s a ton of stuff to do. The ship has three pools, a water slide, several sets of hot tubs, discos, piano bars, shops, a casino, and far too many overly-friendly crewmembers. I understand that some folks respond quite positively to cheerfulness. I tend to view cheery people as dubious characters to monitor accordingly”¦which is a euphemistic way to say that I’m an asshole.

Unfortunately, I’m also a little too grumpy to be a good sport for ship activities. Tonight we went on a club tour of the ship, and the tour guides kept tying to drag people onto the dance floor. I am not easily pulled anywhere, much less on a dance floor filled with really drunk college students and sixty year old women. First off, I deal with sober college girls for a living, and dancing with drunken versions of my students makes me feel a little pedophilish. Secondly, I retch when sixty year old women try to dry hump me. Maybe I’m being ageist””I can deal with that.

The food has been pretty awesome, though. Excluding one very high class restaurant, which I will try before we leave, all the food on the ship is included in the price of the vacation. So we’ve probably eaten a week’s worth of calories in a single day. At dinner tonight, Leigh was having a difficult time choosing between a molten chocolate cake or the crème brulee for dessert, so instead of asking her to choose, our waiter simply brought her both of them.

The only truly shitty thing is the internet service. They’re charging me 55 bucks for 100 minutes of internet time. Apparently, Carnival is stuck in 1996 and AOL is their ISP.

Tomorrow we’re attending a wine tasting, and we might try out the swimming pools. I’ll stress might because if the same hairy bastard that was in the pool today is in it tomorrow, I’m going to abstain from swimming. I don’t like hair in my mouth in the best of situations, much less hair floating in a public pool from the back of a 300 pound middle-eastern man.

To be continued”¦

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Be Mine

Ellie is looking for a Valentine’s Day date. She’s got stuffed animals, wine, and a lovely red rose to present to her suitor. Any takers?

Categories: Blogging | 4 Comments

Privy Information

As much as I love technology, I’ve never really been one of the book-alarmists that’s concerned about some technological innovation making the book format obsolete. There are just certain things that books are really good at that handheld devices aren’t. To begin with, books look impressive and awesomely elitist when they’re stacked neatly on a shelf. Just try making a pompous remark standing in front of a bookshelf that’s filled with Kindles instead of actual books. I guarantee you won’t sound like a classy gentleman. No, odds are good you’ll sound like a total d-bag.

Sadly, there is one area where books seem to be losing ground to technology. It pains me greatly to type this, but I believe that in five, maybe ten years time, we’ll cease to see books resting in the shadows of toilet bowls all across the world. Yes, I think that people will stop reading on the potty and will instead surf the internet, read their email, or watch videos via the tiny screen of their smart phones.

Before high speed internet became available on smart phones, it was simply impractical to work on the computer while relaxing on the old throne. Sure, you could haul your laptop into the loo with you, but those damn things get mighty hot, and there’s nothing worse than scorching your pubic area (I would imagine, anyway).

But now smart phones, like the iPhone or the G1, allow just about anyone to sit, shit, and surf the net without the fear of burning off pubic hair, which does not bode well for the codex. Before long, instead of your loved one yelling “Bring me something to read for God’s sake! This is gonna take a while,” you’re likely to hear “Hey! HEY! Is the router down! ‘Cause I’m not getting a signal and I’m just beginning to turtlehead!”

I would finish this post with some kind of pun or flashy ending, but I don’t really have time because I desperately need to go plug in my iPhone. The battery is almost dead and we had steak tonight.

I think I’m gonna need all the charge I can get.

Categories: Jackassery | 1 Comment

AST and then ATM…DVDA? TD!

For a male who doesn’t like football, this time of the year totally sucks. To be frank, I didn’t even realize this last weekend was the Super Bowl until Sunday morning. I was bitching because there were so many people at the mid-morning church service, and Leigh reminded me that they probably wanted to get their praying out of the way before kick-off.

I don’t even want to watch the stupid thing for the commercials. First off, they’re commercials. I don’t like commercials on any other occasion, and coupling them with an idiotic game of catch and steroids doesn’t make me like them any more. Secondly…well, there is no secondly. I have a DVR so I don’t have to watch commercials, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna waste a whole friggin‘ Sunday night in the hopes of catching a few funny commercials. Besides, some ambitious interweb-nerd will post’em all up on YouTube. Problem solved.

Everywhere I’ve been this week, dudes have been asking me what I thought about the game. Here’s what I thought: It was just as moronic and Valiumesque in its borningness as it has been since the very first Super Bowl.

Then yesterday, I find out that I actually should have watched the big game. More specifically, I should have watched the Super Bowl in Tuscan, Arizona. Why, you ask?

Not for the game, obviously.

Not for the stupid commercials.

No, I should have watched the Super Bowl broadcast in Tuscan, Arizona for the gigantic dong and the blowjob.

You see, the Tuscan-based Comcast had a bit of trouble with their feed of the Super Bowl. For some reason, right in the middle of the game, the feed of the Super Bowl screwed up and Comcast started broadcasting a porno instead of the Super Bowl.

I’ve spent some time thinking about this, and if the NFL started randomly inserting porno clips into the football games, then I might, and I stress might, watch football. Probably not, but I might.

Thankfully, some ambitious interweb-nerd videotaped the glitch so I didn’t need to watch the dumbass Super Bowl after all. It’s amazing the internet can still do anything productive, what with all the porn.

Oh, that link is obviously very, very NSFW. Don’t blame me if you click it and immediately get fired.

Categories: Jackassery | 1 Comment

It’s A Dirty Job But Someone’s Gotta Do It

As an instructor, I’m going to go ahead and admit something that a lot of folks in the education system don’t have the courage to come out and say:

Not everyone needs to go to college.

There. I said it.

For some reason we, the American society, have venerated collegiate life and devalued more traditional vocations to such an extent that all high school students think they are a failure unless they get accepted into a prestigious college. Consequently, there are far too many students enrolled in college that have no business being there. Trust me–I see these people everyday.

They don’t want to be here. They perform poorly and then they feel guilty about their poor performance. But there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being unfit for collegiate life. That simply means that the student is probably fit for something else. Like what?

How about an apprenticeship with a tradesman? How about a vocational school? How about an honest-to-goodness job and not a damn “career.”

Let me say this about “careers:” They totally suck. Career is a euphemism for “job that defines your life.” You have to buy special clothes for a career. You have to have a special degree for a career. You have to act a certain way all the time for a career.

But a job? Well, jobs are different.

If you have a job you have a quitting time. You go home and you leave job-things at the job. You can be yourself. You might not like your job, but that’s okay, because you know it’s just a job to make money, which in turn lets you do what you really want to do. Pay your bills and live like a civilized person. Visit your family. Play with your kids. Spend time with your buddies. Play Xbox (maybe that’s just me).

And to be quite honest, there are far too many 18-year old high school graduates that simply aren’t mature enough for college. They should get a McJob, find their path in this world, and then decide what to do. There’s nothing wrong with waiting until 21 or 22 years old to start undergrad work.

I’m sick of students who treat classes as if I am forcing them to be there. I’m not. In fact, if they don’t like my class, or they don’t want to be in college in general, then I’m completely in favor of them dropping out. Maybe they’ll discover something they’re actually good at and find their place in this culture of ours.

Also, there isn’t a damn thing wrong with being a plumber. Or a carpenter. Or an electrician. Or any other job that requires physical exertion or manual labor. We need more manual laborers out there. The fucking country is literally falling apart, and yet we discourage our children from learning a trade that might actually produce something.

A nation of consumers that disdains work is a nation on the precipice of the fail-cliff. We need to start producing things again or we’re in for a tumble.

Categories: Blogging, Teaching | 3 Comments

Hypercooking-My Favorite Marinara


Hypercooking with Mark–My Favorite Marinara

Categories: Hypercooking | 4 Comments

This Makes More Sense Than You Do

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Thank You, Alaska

As a Texas citizen, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the citizens of Alaska.

In Texas, we’ve got Matthew McConaughey and the McConaughey Clan, which includes such esteemed citizens as Rooster and Miller Lyte McConaughey. Texas is also the birthplace of Jessica Simpson, and unfortunately, I have to assume that it was here, in the Lone Star State, where she learned that chickens are underwater-dwelling creatures.

Mount Carmel, Texas, was home to David Koresh and his merry band of party-goers. What wonderful Texas representatives those folks were.

The Texas Congress showed the world how to vote with integrity.

It was the Houston Police dept. that invaded a home because of an erroneous “weapons disturbance.” In reality, the apartment belonged to a gay man who just happened to be having sex with his partner when the police unlawfully entered his home. Thankfully, the police apologized profusely to the law-abiding couple for barging in on their love-making. Just kidding. They arrested the filthy, filthy sodomites and took them to jail, just like any good Texan would do.

Despite the fact that Barack Obama has been a member of a Chicago Presbyterian Church for nearly twenty years, 1 in 4 Texas citizens still believes he is in fact a Muslim. We can sniff out those damned dirty Muslims here in Texas.

Baylor University, one of the most prestigious private colleges in Texas, offers a post-graduate degree in Creationism.

Yes, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Alaska because despite Texas’s reputation as the land of idiocracy and general douchiness, the spotlight has been moved to shine on that wonderful state north of Canada.

Thank you, my friends, for making us Texans look a little better in comparison.

P.S. I have some friends in Florida that would like to send their thanks as well.

Categories: Jackassery, Texaspecific | Leave a comment

Who’d You Vote For?

So who’re you voting for?

Umm, Obama.

So you’re a Democrat.

Uh, no.

Well, you’re voting for Obama.

Technically, I already voted. And yes, I did vote for Obama. But I don’t consider myself a Democrat.

Well you voted for one.

Yeah, but that doesn’t make me one.

Well, if you didn’t vote for McCain then you’re a liberal.

What? That doesn’t make any sense.

Sorry, that’s just the way things work.

Yeah, but I’m not a party-line kinda guy. I find blind party affiliation intellectually lazy.

Well, the world is much easier to understand if you simply act according to your role within said world. You voted Democrat; hence, you’re a Democrat. Get with the program.

Well, there are some Republican policies I agree with, and there are some Democrat policies I agree with. It’s just that I think Obama is a much better choice for the country than McCain, which is why I voted for him. In 2012, the Republicans might have a stronger candidate than the Democrat candidate, which will mean I would vote Republican.

<sigh> One more time: you vote Democrat, you’re a Democrat. You vote Republican, you’re a Republican.

But that’s just fucking stupid.

No, that’s the way of the world. Live with it.

<sigh> Fine…I’m a duh…deemmm…demmmmooo…..Look, I can’t simply force myself into a slot in which I don’t fit.

Oh, I get it now. Sure. We get this all the time. That just means you’re supposed to vote Nader, and we throw your vote into that trash can in the corner. Isn’t representative democracy fun?

Categories: Politics | Leave a comment

A Whale’s Vagina


Right now I’m in San Diego with Leigh, who is attending a medial conference. I’ll be here until Sunday, and I hope to try and post some pictures and some anecdotes from our trip.

My initial impression: the people here are too nice. Leigh arrived yesterday morning, and I arrived late last night. She picked me up at the airport and we drove to In-N-Out Burger. The drive over to In-N-Out was entertaining.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should probably tell you that I drive like a psychopath. I honk, cut people off, scream curse words, and pretty much wish horrible diseases on people that refuse to drive like I want them to (which is pretty much everyone). I can’t count the number of dirty looks I got on the way to the restaurant. I was driving in my typically maniacal manner, and the San Diegans just couldn’t understand what I was so upset about.

We went into Target to get me some milk, and everyone I passed said, or nodded, a greeting. People I didn’t even know! Amazing.

It’s like being in a town of Dave Matthews Band fans.

So I’ll try tone down my aggressiveness and to be a responsible Texas representative. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Categories: Blogging | 3 Comments

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