It’s Jenn’s birthday today, so happy birthday to her. Woohoo!

While crusing around the net on my usual rounds, I saw this bad boy. Mr. T in your pocket. It’s just crazy enough that I may well have to buy it.

(I haven’t got it yet, but I’m seriously considering.)

I mean, how can you pass up on the random “I pity the fool!” in the middle of a serious business meeting? Is that not the ultimate icebreaker?

I’ve been quiet around here for about a week, but that’s just because I’ve been busy doing stuff I don’t remember too well. Don’t worry, I’m not neglecting the site.

I went to a Winter Hawks game this past Friday and, following that, a meet-and-greet with the team. We won, which is really good and I hope is a sign of things to come. I was impressed by a couple of the new guys on the team.

I don’t remember what I did Saturday. I know I worked on painting my upstairs bathroom (which ended up getting finished Sunday, minus some small touch-ups that need to be done). I’m sure it’ll come to me later. I know I should have written it down.

Sunday I was pretty much free so I called a friend of mine I hadn’t talked to for a while to try to get together with him… but I just got the voicemail. Instead, I bought Jenn a copy of Burnout 3 for her birthday and we played that.

I also picked up a copy of the Saturday Night Live: Best of Christopher Walken disc. I’m a huge Christopher Walken fan… but somehow I remember these skits being funnier than they were. Maybe they didn’t choose an appropriate “best of,” or maybe their idea of “best” differs from mine.

Yesterday I got the stitches taken out of my side where I had a mole removed a couple of weeks ago. Everything is healing up fine and the mole wasn’t cancer, which is good (though I never thought it was… I have a theory this particular doctor, while smart, is trying to make a buck by hypothesizing about cancerous moles).

My next couple of weekends look to be pretty booked up. There’s a company picnic coming up this weekend (here’s hoping for good weather), then next weekend there are two birthday parties to go to - my grandfather’s 80th and a friend’s 30th. Plus the usual housework crap that always waits until the weekend.

I’ve got some lawn patches that I may have to deal with soon. I’m thinking it’ll involve getting a bag of top soil, cutting “holes” in the lawn, and patching over the fresh top soil. The soil around my house sucks - beneath the sod they laid down when the lawn was put in is a layer of clay, then gravel. Lame. Makes it hard to keep stuff going, let me tell you. We’ve also got to get some sort of ground cover (barkdust, gravel, etc.) in because the weeds are taking over. We do our best to keep on top of them, Jenn and I, but it’s an uphill battle.

I don’t know what it was with today. Things just pissed me off. I got my allergy shots and had a reaction (not bad, but enough to be annoying); I got a filling and shelled out the dough for that; on the way to my filling I ran into terrible traffic; and on the way back from my filling I got stuck in the world’s worst traffic ever. Like, to the point I almost got out of the car and walked.

Of course, it’s been a while since I’ve run into a Traffic Asshole, so today was the perfect day for that. Sadly, I didn’t have my camera, but the Asshole (white pickup, license BHT 101) decided he was well above the law.

I let it go when I exited the freeway to get onto a just-as-backed-up side street and he jetted out from behind me to sit in the lane next to me, just in front of my bumper, and signal his way into my lane. I figured I’d be nice - which, in traffic, is against every fiber in my being - and let the guy in.

He did it the once, and I let it go. Then we got to a left-hand light that turned onto a one-way street - the right lane turned right, the left lane turned left. He decided he was going to turn into the left lane, but he wanted to turn right.

Rather than accepting he was hosed, he stopped in the middle of the fucking lane and wouldn’t let anyone by.

Let’s see a diagram of that.

For all you out-of-state people or folks that think this is OK: It’s not fucking OK. If it’s busy traffic and you accidentally turn into the wrong lane, suck it up and deal with it. Accept the consequences of your stupid actions and just go.

Oh, and if the guy behind you lays on the horn because you’ve stopped in the middle of the fucking road, you have absolutely zero right to be pissed off. You’re the one fucking up. Accept it, apologize, and drive your Goddamn car. You are, singlehandedly, the reason we have traffic.

I decided this morning that I cannot stand patriotic art.

There’s some sort of local event going on to honor the memories of the people who died in the 9/11 attacks (which I think is fine). Part of that event has a sort of gallery of objects created in memory of these people. The majority of this is what I would call “patriotic art.”

Patriotic art, at least in the US, is probably the most contrived form of attempted emotional manipulation ever. You’ve all seen this in one form or another in your lives. For US people, patriotic art looks like this:

Take an airbrush - it’s always airbrushed - and draw a bald eagle. Throw a waving US flag in there somewhere - maybe the eagle is carrying it, maybe it’s behind the eagle, maybe it’s just blowing in the wind. Doesn’t matter - just put a flag in there. Now put one or more soldiers/firefighters/police officers in the picture in a position that looks like they’re overcoming impossible odds. If you choose soldiers, you have your choice of wars: Revolutionary, WWII, Vietnam, or Desert Storm. Make sure any soldiers you have in the picture are carrying rifles. Now throw some blue sky and the optional “POW/MIA” flag in there and you have patriotic art.

You can see this crap, larger than life, printed on t-shirts, motor vehicles, or inspirational posters.

I’m as patriotic as the next guy. I feel bad when tragedy strikes and I’m proud when the citizens of our country rise up together to overcome difficult times. But I can not - nay, will not - stand for this ridiculous form of art anymore. It’s not an homage, it’s a disgrace. I don’t care if you successfully completed the free art test from the correspondence school. This is crap.

Add one to my [long] list of pet peeves:

I cannot stand it when people clip their nails at work.

I’ll accept it if you have to fix a hangnail or something, but if you feel the need to deal with your nails at your desk, step back and take a long toke off the reality reefer: No one wants to hear your stupid nails being clipped, nor do they want to step in/sit in/touch the clippings that are no doubt flying all over your cubicle.

We have restrooms for personal grooming. Better still, try dealing with things like that at home. That clip-clip-clip sound coming over the wall is worse than scraping on a chalkboard. Do something about it.