Virtually Infamous Personal Blog

My Birthday Wishlist 2008

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Wed, 07 May 2008 07:07:00 +0000

How old am I? No, it's not rhetorical. Every time I'm asked that question, I always have to think about it for a second. All of the milestones have passed. I can vote, I can smoke, I can drink, I can rent cars. There's nothing left.

I celebrated the passing of my quarter-life crisis by buying a shiny red Kawasaki Ninja 650R. It's been about 5 years since I decided I wanted one, I think I can safely say that I thoroughly thought it out at this point.

So here's the wishlist.

The Allen would appreciate collection

Xbox 360 controller play and charge kit
Any Xbox 360 games
A wireless keyboard and mouse set
A new wallet (bi-fold with lots of card slots)
Final Fantasy Tactics for PSP
Books!

The Allen is a really good friend collection

An iphone
Playstation 3
Canon Digital Rebel SLR

The Allen saved my life once collection

Toshiba Regza 42" 1080p LCD
Dodge Viper

--------------------------------------------

Wow, I'm surprised that I can't come up with more stuff. Even now, I feel like I forced some of those things just to fill out the list.

Cheers everyone, here's to treading toward mid-life crisis with all of you beside me.

Time to goose the throttle

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 04:23:00 +0000

With a turn of the key, the starter is armed. Follow with a flick of a button and the engine growls to life, settling on a timid purr. The motorcycle welcomes me to another day. "Good day, Allen," It purrs rhythmically. "I assumed on such a crisp clear spring day, you'd want to go for a ride."

The racing jacket and pants still feel awkward. The multiple layer and strategically placed padding would ultimately save my bones, my skin and my life if things fell apart on the road, but alas, I still need to get used to them. I shift some padding to make it less distracting and hop on the bike.

Nothing separates me from the road except some metal and rubber in the form of a motorcycle. The wind caresses me, it feels more like an embrace than anything else. The exhaust and engine sing a duet with the wind, a song of roads still to travel, of speeds only a few dare explore.

I, unfortunately, am not one to do the exploring. To me, a bike ride is something to hold in respect. It represents a sort of freedom one could not have with a car.

I've had my bike license for five years now without an actual motorcycle. It's time to fix that problem.

A dream, in three parts.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 05:34:00 +0000

I don't know the context of the dream, but like all dreams, it made sense at the time. I was trying to fit some object into a contain of soil (or bucket of sand). The actual objects are vague, but the feeling was like trying to plant a seedling or tree sapling in a large pot. The people with me kept insisting that it would fit in the pot, but we tried and tried and it wouldn't. Finally I told them we needed to dig out more of the stuff in the pot.

My friends from college eventually wandered by the area where I was trying to do this. They basically found me with a shovel trying to put something into a pot. For some reason, this was extremely awkward. They were all drinking and their beer cans were mixing into the stuff that I dug out of the pot.

I end up getting in a car with my mother. We're heading toward this dream's version of my girlfriend's house, which was really weird in itself, because in the dream, I know exactly where she lives and why I want to be there (i don't remember those outside of the dream, but my dream-mind was really confident in this info). For some reason, my girlfriend was a red-headed white girl. For some reason, I really need to be there before 7 pm.

My mom misses a turn that would take us directly to her house. Her reaction to my directions are very slow, she seems tired or drugged up. She ends up turning on to I-76 because she thinks that's the best way to turn back around. I'm concerned that she will miss the one and only exit that would put us where we need to be and get to my girlfriend's house on time.

I decide to kill time by reading a book or magazine, only to look up and find that my mom has fallen asleep at the wheel. She's run the car in the left lane off into the shoulder, and is mere seconds from crashing into the car in front of us. I tell her to wake up, she doesn't respond. I am forced to grab the wheel and yell "STOP!" at the same time. Only then does she respond, but her waking up causes more trouble than good. She eventually gains control and I take over driving.

I take the nearest exit, only to find myself being cut off by a stream of traffic in the direction I want to go in. I circle around this residential area and for some reason, I cut through this person's driveway, because I think it's a back road that leads to where I need to go. As I reach the back of the person's house, someone comes out, and it's oddly one of the featured guests on the Opie and Anthony show. I make a joke about him being a serial killer, because they often do that to this guy on the radio show. I suddenly fear for my life and want to drive away as quickly as possible.

In the end, I come across this lodge. It's like a clubhouse or bar. I no longer seem to be interested in getting to my dream-girlfriend's place. I don't know why I was there, but in my dream it made sense for me to stop in. An alien looking thing comes into the bar, it's hiding behind a door. It looks like a small green teletubby crossed with Geico's Gecko. The owner tells me that this alien boosts all the electronic signals in the area. The lodge's wifi can be accessed for miles outside of the place and the alien can steal all sorts of satellite television feeds.

And that's when I woke up.

You can find this dream, and many other's like it at Maybedreams.

How to become CEO

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 05:01:00 +0000

I had a conversation with a friend today about career paths and it's really interesting to thinka bout all the possible ways of becoming successful at a company. I graduated with a computer science degree, so there was really no variety in my job choices when it was time to look for a job. I could either be a web developer, software developer, applications developer, network developer, QA developer, or some other kind of developer.

But what about those people that graduated as political science majors, philosophy or library sciences? Let's play this out a bit. Let's say the goal is to become the CEO of a company. What skills would a library sciences major bring to the table?

I don't know the answer to that, I'm sure there's some Google app--in beta--that makes that organizational whiz irrelevant.

Could anyone, though, start from the bottom of the corporate food chain and eventually reach success? Or are there some paths that are just destined for failure?

Have I really said anything relevant in this blog post?

Those old jeans.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 06:00:00 +0000

My favorite pair of jeans is so old, the left front pocket has a hole on the bottom that two fingers can fit through. I'd like to make a clever metaphor like: the tatter exposed hole to my leg represents the ripping away of youth and the beginning of a vulnerable and exposed adulthood. Or: the hole is symbolic of being time to let go of the past and looking toward a future pair of jeans.

Sadly, really all it means is that I will lose a lot of fuckin quarters if I keep tossing change into that pocket.

But: The loss of change through a tattered pocket has a deeper meaning. It's time to change my old ways and change into a new pair of jeans.

I really like the feel of old jeans. I feel like I earned the right to keep wearing them. It takes forever to break in a pair of jeans, and I believe this pair in particular has been with me through brake grease, oil spills, engine gunk, thunder storms, dirt trudging and drunken midnight oceanic escapades. How do you give up something like that?

Do consider: The tattered pocket brings to you an eventuality that missed opportunities are trickling away out of your grasp.

I've gone through and given up on so many new pairs of jeans. They're still stiff and when washed, they come out feeling even stiffer. I don't know how many times I'd have wear them before they are broken in to the same degree as this useless pocket pair of jeans.

Truth: The ripped pocket represents the tailor bill from the local dry cleaners as they do their magic, like modern day shamans on a wounded soul, repairing my pants to more youthful days.

My New Favorite Popstar

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 23:40:00 +0000

Is there already an Ashley Tisdale bandwagon? If so, let me jump on. If not, let's start one.

I assume there has to be, since Blender Magazine apparently named Ashley second hottest woman of Pop/R&B.

Most of you know, I'm not really a follower of music (posting about Ashley Tisdale probably proves that), but I stumbled across her when her song "He Said, She Said" played at the end of Bring It On: In It to Win It (Wow, I'm really not flattering myself in this post). What can I say, I liked the song and for some reason, I thought I recognized her from somewhere.

I couldn't find from what though, she's another Disney child star that's probably going to blow up in the next couple of years.

Anyway, enjoy the video.

This is what I post after two months? ICK.

My top ten movies of all time.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 08 Dec 2007 08:09:00 +0000

When talking about a movie that I enjoy, I often say "That movie is definitely in my top ten movies of all time." My friend Brian has been one of the only people to realize that I've said that for way more than ten movies. That really got me thinking, what are my favorite movies?

I tried to think of movies that were not just good movies, but so good that I have or will watch again. Not included in this list are any trilogies, since most trilogies are watchable, but not all the movies in a trilogy by themselves are good. Here's what I came up with (in no particular order):

Thank You For Smoking: Though I'm a big proponent of killing oneself slowly with cigarettes, that's not the main reason I like this movie. I like seeing persuasion in action, and this movie shows how ironically gullible people can be. The witty humor about how silly members of both sides of can be is right up my alley. And lastly, how could you not like a movie with J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson as B R?

Hard Candy: Chris Hansen seems meager compared to Ellen Page's role in this movie. Aside from the pedophilia topic, the acting and plot are great. The movie is set up in such a way where I really had trouble deciding who was protagonist and who was the antagonist in the movie. I'm still not quite sure.

The Shawshank Redemption: I think this movie is probably in everyone's top ten, so I won't bother going into it. I couldn't stop watching this movie. I was horrified, enthralled and sympathetic. I needed to see what would happen to the protagonist. It didn't disappoint.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail: I think this movie helped define my sense of humor. In fact, I want to watch it again just from typing this.

Saving Private Ryan: The first 30 minutes of the movie are so memorable and depict such realistic violence that I realized I never want to be in a war. It also turned me into a huge world war 2 buff and influenced an entire genre of video games (Call of Duty, Medal of Honor, Company of Heroes).

Full Metal Jacket: Not only was the first half hilarious because of the insults R. Lee Ermey throws at Matthew Modine, but it was really just a well done sequence of scenes depicting a lifestyle that I don't want to be a part of.

Braveheart: I think this is another one of those movies that defined my life. Not to say that I want to be oppressed by England and fight a war, but come on, it's pretty much what LARPing is. Not that I LARP, but the whole idea of it fits well with fantasy. Plus it's a great story.

Love Actually: Though there are many movies that do the whole "Separate stories that somehow entwine" thing, like Crash, Babel and Magnolia, this was the first one I saw. Maybe it was because it was the holiday season, or maybe I saw it with someone special, but it's always stuck out in my mind. Plus the cast contains some of my favorite proper English speaking actors and actresses.

Dogma: I loved the dialog in this movie. Sure, the plotline is silly, but the all-star cast plays their roles very well. Kevin Smith also has a way of making people speak in an unnaturally elegant way that I wish more people on this world sounded like when they talked to each other. Remember guys, it's not a movie that bashes religion, it actually just calls it out, puts it on the table, and let's you be the final judge.

Battle Royale: If society ever did this, I feel like I would bring to the table a bunch of valuable survival tips. It's just a shocking movie that plays out like a video game. It's a lovely good time watching Japaneses teenage girls run around killing to survive.

Saved!: Poking fun of religion is always amusing, but even more so when Mandy Moore brings it over the top. Oh, and let's not forget about Macaulay Culkin, who I thought was going to make a comeback after this came out.

Hey you, get off the fence.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 03:04:00 +0000

The most annoying part about being in class in the other people. The second most annoying kind of person is the one who shows up ready to impart his wisdom to his classmates, but most of it is wrong, outdated or shortsighted. The most annoying person though is the fence sitter.

This person is the guy who doesn't want to commit. A question was posed in classed today, pick between two convention displays and defend your choice. More than one person answered that they could see how both displays are good. Yes, thank you for pointing out that the professor is not an idiot and chose two displays were both could be the right answer. Idiot.

Let me put it another way. This is the guy who when you ask if he would like pizza or hot dogs, he'll suggest getting a little bit of both. Blue or Red? How about purple? Male or female? Though he would prefer female, he could see how he could swing either way.

I think if you're passionate about what you do, your life, your career and your company, whatever, you won't be a fence sitter. You'll make a choice and stick to it. You might be wrong, but at least you believed in your choice. The ability to commit and execute that decision is what matters. Do try to be agreeable with everyone, don't go with the decision of the group. Take a stand, argue your point. You might be sitting on a brilliant idea and never have it see the light of day because you're on the fence.

At least the guy who's ready to impart his bad wisdom actually believes in what he's saying.

The Truth about Cats and Dogs

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 05:12:00 +0000

Why do cat lovers always say that cats are low maintenance and that they're way easier to take care of than dogs? Do those people actually own cats or do they just watch commercials of the furry little fucks with little silk leashes that have little tiny bells purring next to their owners?

Have you ever smelled cat piss? It smells worse than dog shit. It can't be cleaned. It destroys everything it touches. Have you ever seen a male cat mark its territory? It sprays piss all over the place. Oh, but cats use litter boxes, they're so clean. You've never seen a cat fling kitty litter all over the fuckin place just so it finds just the right spot to pee in. How is that easier to deal with than a dog?

Cats shed all over the place. Not only do they shed, they attempt to groom themselves and swallow all the fur that would have been shed all nice and dry on the floor but instead puke it up in a nice sloppy pile that looks like dog shit. Then they just walk away like nothing ever happened. Fuck you cat, at least a dog has the common decency to feel guilty. Oh they feel guilty alright, they run the fuck away and hide in a corner.

Cats fuck everything up with their claws. They claw rugs, furniture, and anything they can get their hands on. They never claw the things they're suppose to.

Now puppies on the other hand, they're also a fuckin nightmare. They have no bladder or bowel control, they just go whenever they need to go. Sure, they have a concept of shitting in the place you want them to, but they're so retarded that they don't realize they have to go until they go on your chest as you're hugging them. They bite things because they're teething, they rough shit up because they're learning to be dogs. I hate puppies, nobody should suffer that much for those adorable lumps of pure joy. But in the end, that's really no worse than kittens.

So with all the shedding, pissing, fur ball hacking and furniture destruction, how can you say a dog is more maintenance? If anything, they're about the same.

Dogs do nothing wrong. After the puppy stage, a dog will hold its piss for 20 hours. It will refuse to go anywhere in the house that it has learned is it's home. It rather suffer with a full bladder than pee where it sleeps. Dog piss smells way better than cat piss. It will also do the same with shit. It will learn to chew only things you give it to chew. It might occasionally slobber, depending on what kind of dog you have.

Dogs love everyone because, like their owners, they're giving something away that's free to give away to make people happy. Cat's only love their owners, and like their owners, they selfishly want to keep that person for themselves.

This all being said, I love both cats and dogs. I'd clean up after any animal because it's not a big deal. So what if your entire house smells like cat piss and so what if your dog climbed the table and ate six servings of fillet mignon. It's cat OWNERS that I hate. They think their pets are so superior, and they're not. Dogs are obviously superior. Dog owners are incredible. There's no Cat Whisperer on TV is there? No, only a Dog Whisperer.

Fuck you and fuck your cat.

New local artists? Natasha and Kat Deluna

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 22:01:00 +0000

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not really a hard core fan of any kind of music. If anything, I just listen to what catches my ear and is popular at the time. That being said, the few times that I do search out music, I am pleasantly surprised at what's new.

I stumbled across Kat Deluna in The Current, a local newspaper in Hoboken. Kat lives somewhere in Hoboken, and I'm more than happy to support anyone local. She has a background in Opera (which she flexes her skills in her video below) and I would say she is influenced by Shakira.

I stumbled across Natasha's music video at a bar last night. They were just playing music videos on a big screen. I heard the song before I saw it, and at first I thought it was Beyonce. Her song "Hey hey hey" below has the same style rap-singing that Beyonce would do, but I was surprised by the actual rapping. The best part? Natasha is from Absecon, NJ, which is the town right next to where I grew up. So again, I don't mind supporting a local. See Natasha's myspace page for more info.

I'll be keeping my eyes on these girls for a while. I hope they'll succeed in the biz. It would be nice to say that I've been following them since the beginning when they become super famous.

Conversation Stealers

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 21:20:00 +0000

You're probably one of the many jerks out there who have done this. You probably don't even know you're guilty of doing it. You open your mouth for no reason, you're a conversation stealer.

Ever been in a situation where you overheard someone talking to someone else, and you decided to interject? No sir, you're too good to just keep talking about the same subject, rather, you focus in on one piece of the topic and pull a one-eighty.

"So the Patriots will win the superbowl. Wanna know why?"
"Oh, you're talking about sports? Are you ready for the U.S. Open?"

Conversation stolen. We were actually talking about football, about one specific team. You switched subjects on us.

Then there are those that are totally oblivious, and they steal the conversation without even knowing they did it.

"So the Patriots will win the superbowl. Wanna know why?"
"Hey, did you guys watch American Idol last nigh-oh, where talking about something? So anyway, the one guy sang blah blah blah."

I don't know if that's a conversation steal as much as it is just a total ego-centric vacuum of needing every person's focus to be on that individual.

There's an online equivalent to this. They're called thread jackers. They pretty much do the same thing. It's actually mind boggling that on a medium where people can actually read and absorb the information being presented in a particular thread, that they are still so self-centered that they have to turn the focus on themselves. The internet is pretty big place. They could have went somewhere else.

So the next time you feel like opening your mouth, please listen to what's being said. If you can't contribute, please walk away and find people who aren't talking. Or you know, you can wait a bit and switch topics as an appropriate time. It's probably ok, we probably love talking to you. We just hate your self-centered life.

Take That, Drunkard

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 05:52:00 +0000

After getting on the N train into Manhattan, we were confused if we actually boarded the right train. This helpful older gentleman confirmed we were indeed on the right train.

A few stops later, a drunk man approaches the older gentleman. He's angry. He wants to know why the guy told him this train was going to Canal street when it wasn't. He demanded the guy give him money for wasting his time.

The older man cordially corrects the drunkard, even volunteering to show him on the map that the N train on the weekend indeed goes where he wants to go. There is a tired man sitting in front of the map, he looks annoyed that these two people are arguing in front of him.

The drunkard becomes overly aggressive, standing right in the older man's face, and again demands money from him. He doesn't want to hear any of the gentleman's shit anymore. I look at my friends. We all have the same stern expression on our face. We're all ready to take the drunk down if he gets physical.

There's another guy sitting across from me. He's also watching the altercation. He slowly puts his iPhone away in his back, meticulously rolling up his headphones. He's ready to go too.

The drunkard makes a move to grab the older guy. Before any of us can move, the tired guy sitting in front of the map stands up between the two of them, flashing an NYPD badge. He tells the guy to back off, and to step off the train with him.

They move off the train together, the drunkard still heated and from his gestures, trying to explain to the cop why he demanded the money. I look at the cop from the window of the train, catching eye contact with him and I begin clapping. Other spectators join in on the clapping.

The man sitting across from me takes out his iPhone, unravels his iPhone and resumes listening to music. We exchange a grin and chuckle with the older gentleman, trying to let him know we wouldn't have let him get hurt.

And though it would have been more interesting to write about tackling a drunk, I still Thank you Mr. Officer for preventing a situation. Even though you were probably off duty and on your way home after a tiring night, you did your job without thinking twice about it.

God bless plain clothes police officers.

Random blurbs

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 04:12:00 +0000

I know I haven't written in a while. I've been pretty busy. I think about you all the time. You're always on my mind. If I could cuddle with all of you at the same time, I would.

The thing I've come to appreciate the most in NYC is my car. Oh, not to drive, I actually like walking everywhere, but for the under-valued ability to store all of your possessions and have it with you wherever you go. When I used to carry a magazine, umbrella, PSP, book, newspaper, bottle of water, and change of underwear with you at all times, I could just throw it in my car. Now I actually have to sling in around in a backpack.

On the other hand, most of the items listed above are for killing time while on public transportation, I guess I wouldn't need them. And I don't remember ever carrying around an umbrella until I got to the city.

I realized that I may never be able to work anywhere else now that I work at Yahoo. I get random recruiter emails all the time. Three years experience, super-self started, willing to produce web content on the fly for customers with nothing but a Pentium 2 IMB Thinkpad on whatever free version of Linux was dropped in our mailbox.

No thanks, I'll continue to work with business and technical specs and frivolously code intentional mistakes just to keep our awesome QA team on it's toes and our needy Solutions team with work.

I joined the Yahoo! network on Facebook. There are 3800 members and counting. I like being a part of an organization that has 3800 members around the world.

Why are there always polls on sites for Pirates vs. Ninjas? Why is it even remotely a comparison? Isn't a pirate just a person who ninjas things in the sea?

Zombie Pirate Ninjas.

Architecture in Helsinki

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 09 Jun 2007 05:42:00 +0000

Architecture in Helsinki is a unique sounding band. Alexei called the sound "tribal" but I think it's just a combination of good beats and the ability to have fun while experimenting with different sounds.

We went to see it at The Fillmore/Irving Plaza. The sign out front says Fillmore, but everyone calls it Irving Plaza. The place is very good. The acoustics were just right, and if it weren't for the wildly yelled lyrics (of some songs), my eardrums would still be functioning right now.

Some key random observations from the night.

An underage girl and her legal boyfriend were sharing a drink, when he walks away. She of course was holding the beer when the security staff swept by and saw her without a drinking bracelet holding a beer. She professes she was just holding it for her boyfriend (she was lying, because I saw her drink it. They apparently saw her too), who's nowhere to be found. They escort her to a corner, where they apparently scared the shit out of her because she started crying. The boyfriend is found and they are both escorted out of the stage area. Take that, fat slob!

For some reason, condoms were blown up like balloons and volleyed around. Every guy who took out his condom to use as a balloon pretty much came to a decision that he wasn't going to get any play that night. I can picture their dates breathing a sigh of relief. Who wants to give it up to some douche who giggles at condom balloons anyway?

I didn't like it when guys invaded my personal space. This one guy was basically leaning on me the whole time. I didn't mind so much when the girls did it so much. But with a 16 and up age limit, it was a little disturbing.

He walked through city streets.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 02:11:00 +0000

I've always felt like "He walked through city streets" is a great way to start a story. Something about it implies purpose. Perhaps he's walking to get somewhere specific, perhaps he's meandering. Perhaps he's in deep though, or perhaps he's so focused on his goal that he sees nothing else. I always picture the phrase with a bit of blurred motion around my protagonist. The city implies busyness, but he's not aware of it. Or maybe the city itself is what is intriguing.

He walked through city streets on a crisp autumn day. The breeze gently blows his hair with the whispering sounds of red leafed trees watching his every move. His thoughts wander on events earlier in the day. What was it that he was seeking? What did he hope to accomplish?

He walked through city streets, fists clenched in fury. A car screeches to a halt a stride away and honks loudly. He ignores it. A passerby dodges out of his way, stops to say something, but thinks better of it. The crowds seem to split before him, as if his burning aura were enough to spread their bodies. Nothing could stop him now.

He walked through city streets, the rain gently masking the tears building in his eyes. Umbrellaed figures glided past him, barely noticing his presence. He could still remember the moment clearly. It replayed in slow motion whenever he blinked. Every detail, every sound, he could smell the smells. It hard been hard to deal with everything this past year.

He walked through city streets, listening to music on his music player. Who knew the PATH train would be so crowded during the summer. All the Jersey scumbags seem to have crawled out of the woodwork now that the cold season passed. More people to block the sidewalks. More people who stopped for no reason. The walk sign lit up and the masses began moving forward. Here comes another day at work.

It's a small world, afterall.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Wed, 30 May 2007 03:45:00 +0000

My friend Jim came to visit me over Memorial Day weekend. He brought his girlfriend. She's great, but this post isn't about her (plus, I'd need another shirt to go with my "I blogged your mom" shirt).

His girlfriend's friend lives six blocks away from me. This was amusing. She asked me where I worked, and it turns out, we work across the street from each other.

Later on in the night, after binge drinking at this great bar called The Gin Mill, a drunken navy officer comes stumbling out asking for a cigarette. We engage him in conversation and Jim mentions that his uncle is also in the Navy. It turns out, the drunken sailor's commanding officer was Jim's uncle.

On the train ride home, Jim's girlfriend's friend runs into someone she knew from eleven years ago. They talked. Jim's cousin told us stories of his drunken adventures in New York.

And two days later, he still had the hiccups.

My Birthday Wishlist 2007

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 05 May 2007 04:51:00 +0000

It's my quarter-life crisis time. So what does that mean? Well, if you look at a retirement fund chart, the money I could have put away from eighteen to this point would compound to be more money than if I saved the same amount a year from this point until I retire.

So if you're younger than me, start looking at IRA's and other funds. Putting away a thousand bucks a year will pretty much make you a millionaire by the time you're sixty.

On to the list:

Cheapos

Shoes - I need basketball shoes that actually fit well, and I'm always on the lookout for walking shoes that are really comfortable. I seem to wear out shoes really fast walking everywhere in the city. Size 11.

Shirts - Clever shirts are kind of trendy, but I can't bring myself to spend 20 bucks for what amounts to shirts with some words ironed onto a plain shirt. No logos please. XL because i'm fat.

Belts - My awesome metal plate Guess belt is starting to get beat up, and it's a little stretched out. It'd be nice to have a couple belt styles to choose from too.

Wallet - I have too many cards. Credit cards, ID cards, business cards. I hate carrying all that shit around, but I also need to. A nice bi-fold wallet would be nice. Photo book insert unnecessary, driver's license flap unnecessary too.

Books - I love books.

Steepos

Wii - I'm too lazy to fight all the non-gamers who are willing to grab one when they're actually in stock. But if someone wants to try for me, fantastic.

Cellphone - My razor is pretty minimalistic and I like it, but it'd be nice to not have a phone that every other person in the world has.

7.1 surround sound computer speakers - My new computer has the capability for them, but alas, I don't have them.

Insaneos

2 Nvidia 8800 GTS video cards - I need an awesome video card setup for my awesome computer, and going SLI would work very well for my needs.

A motorcycle - I dunno what the latest bikes are anymore or what's good, but I am definitely thinkin about selling the car and just having a bike to get around when I need to get around.

Dodge Viper - What? It's always on my list.

What I learned drinking.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 05:36:00 +0000

I learned that Jesse is going down a destructive path toward alcoholism. He drank five Jameson and cokes in about 15 minutes. Jesse is also a violent drunk, he attempted to instigate a fight with a co-worker every time he saw him.

Jesse also had some issues with this girl named Jessica about 7 months ago. She called me in the middle of the night trying to find him. She wants him bad.

I also learned that Mike is a retarded drunk, Ersin goes crazy, Alexei is immune to alcohol, Steve is stupid no matter what he does, and I am actually starting to build some kind of meager tolerance against the stuff.

I also learned sysadmins/IT guys know how to party and are great to party with.

I have to catch up for six months worth of hanging out with V.

Emmy didn't say goodbye.

Donuts, mother fuckers.

Stupid people, stupid people.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 15:49:00 +0000

I've been informed that it's too early to start joking about it, so I'll be serious. First off, if you don't know what happened, visit this article. It's the best I've found so far because it summarizes all the info that other newspapers and sources have found or revealed. ABC News: The Investigation Into the Virginia Tech Shooting.

Two concerns of mine based of the shooting, but not about the shooting itself.

People were texting and messaging each other on myspace and facebook when this happened. Has it occurred to anyone to pick up the phone and call? If I was anywhere close to getting shot, I wouldn't be on facebook for a couple days. Hell, I'm not even on facebook now. And I sure as hell don't care about you if you're idea of making sure i'm ok is by leaving me a note on facebook.

The second concerns gun control. Sorry, I'm totally pro-guns. Actually, I'm totally for the rights of individuals to have the choice of doing something. This holds for all things really.

So the gun-control side of the argument is the same: If there were no guns, this wouldn't have happened.

The gun advocacy side of the argument is the same: If more people had guns (or if guns were allowed), someone could have stopped this from being so bad.

So, I simply ask this question. Do you think it's possible for the absolute eradication of all guns in the United States? If not, you should probably get a gun.

Remember, just because guns are allowed doesn't mean you have to carry one around. The chances are if someone is about to shoot you, someone else with a gun will save you. But don't let anyone remove one of your freedoms in this country. Don't let them take away your guns, don't let them take away your profanity, don't let them take away your fatty foods or your ability to smoke in public.

Keep in mind that the people who are texting you to ask if you're ok are probably the same people hoping gun-control laws are tightened. Why do I say that? Because people who are too self-centered to put forth the effort into really making sure you're okay are probably the same people hoping other people (like the government) will take care of their problems and make them go away.

I wish they'd go away.

Another post about bathrooms

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 03:50:00 +0000

I don't know. Don't ask me why I always talk about bathrooms. Public bathrooms are the worst, and every time I have to go into one, I just notice things.

The urinals at the Hyatt in San Diego are over-powered. If you walk up to a urinal after the last person leaves, you'll be sprayed with a fine mist of urinal water. It's hard to pee when you're being attacked, and hard to justify backing up when there's either other people waiting. You kind of just take it in the face like a man.

San Diego has a terrible problem of drought of something. There's water limiters on everything. The sinks trickle water, the showers trickle water. The only thing that doesn't trickle is the urinal. I think they should go back and re-evaluate the system.

Apparently San Diego was built by really fuckin short people. The shower head in my hotel bathroom sits below my neck. I have to stoop down to wash my hair. I'm not even six feet tall, so I'm assuming that most people would find this annoying.

Every once in a while I'll pee at a urinal and see a booger wiped on the wall. Who's the multi-tasking genius that's picking his nose and peeing at the same time? Personally I'd need a third hand if I wanted to pick the nose. I have to use one to aim, and the other to scratch my balls. I figure that's the perfect time to scratch balls, while your hands are already in the vicinity.

I also want to meet the guy who throws paper towels in the sink. In his mind, the trashcan is too far away. In his mind, he also doesn't realize that paper towel dispensers are usually located right next to trash cans in order to provide the most efficient system. Somehow the sink is more appealing to this guy.

I really shouldn't pay so much attention to these things, but I do.

Pissing and pissed.

A focus on focus

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Thu, 15 Mar 2007 18:35:00 +0000

Life is busy, I can't focus on work, school and two blog all at the same time apparently. Let's not forget about playing video games. That seems to be an integral part of my life.

I was on the train today watching episodes of Penn and Teller's Bullshit! on my PSP. Bullshit! is a Showtime show, so they have nudity when appropriate. The episode I was watching was about hair and they just had three people get full body waxes. I guess it was talking about the extremes people would go to through in order to look good. Sorry, I don't remember, i couldn't focus. There was a couple shots of men and woman's ass cheeks fully open. I was too busy focusing on blocking out nut sacks and vaginas on my PSP so that the nosy over-the-shoulder watchers wouldn't be offended... or... excited.

I heard someone at the office scream that it's so hard to focus. And really, it is hard to focus. I personally lost focus when I typed in blogger.com. Now look at me, totally focused on something I haven't been focused in for a while.

A person I messaged on AOL Instant Messenger replies back to me a couple hours after I message her. She says she can't talk right now because she needs to focus. I lose focus of what I was doing in order to read that she needs to focus.

When I try to sleep, I focus on too many things. My mind drifts out and refocuses. The gears start moving, thinking about what I did that day and what I want to do the next day. Last night I got up in the middle of the night in order to write something down. I didn't want to forget about it by the time I woke up.

We all need to focus, and really, at some point we're all focusing on something. We focus on what other people are doing, we focus on the things we want to do, and we focus on distractions, laughter, and fast moving heavy objects. We're always in focus, but rarely in focus on the things we need to do. We all lack focus. Just like this blog.

Downed by F.Lu

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Fri, 23 Feb 2007 11:38:00 +0000

Until this week, I've learned that all those times I thought I had the flu in the last five years was not the flu. The flu is an utterly heartless destroyer of your physical and mental capabilities. It required effort to sleep, effort to stay awake, and effort to not go insane from the Nyquil-commercial-like sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, and fever symptoms on top of the headaches, muscle aches, joint aches, eye aches, teeth aches, and psycho-dream-mares that invaded my head.

The past 72 hours have been the longest 3 days have felt in a long time.

I guess I deserved it though. All those times in the last five years I thought I had the flu and handled it have jaded me. I thought I was strong, I could handle it. I mean, I was practically challenging the flu. I have a cabinet full of vitamin C drops, cough drops, Nyquil, Dayquil, Tylenol Cold (day and night) and Tron's mom.

I'll be taking a flu shot next fall and every year after this. I don't think I want to go through what I went through ever again.

Working hypothesis - Raw Value of Emotion.

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Sat, 03 Feb 2007 07:09:00 +0000

While talking with a female friend of mine about problems with her boyfriend (what? I was bored), I came to a startling conclusion that all men are very similar in terms of their feelings.

So first, let me drop the theory on you.

A man can be simply stripped down to some raw value of pure emotion to which he has an expectation of empathy from others to understand that raw value.

Now, emotion may not be the proper word, other words that could just as easily fit are feeling, thought, and desire.

So given that theory, between men, it is easy to understand why we would get along so well with one another. Since men have this expectation of empathy, we can also give this empathy to other men. Now, since we already know what we are trying to convey to others (that we expect them to empathize with) , it is easy to also understand what other men are trying to convey so that we can empathize.

This explains why men aren't very verbal. We don't need to be verbal in order to convey our feelings to other men because we already understand what this raw value of emotion that other men have.

Now, when that expectation of empathy for the raw emotion is not achieved, the man who is expecting empathy may go out of his way in order to make others feel his level of emotion (the raw value). For example, if a guy is angry, but his friends do not understand this, the guy may go out of his way to insult his friends in order to make them angry too. His friends may be angry at him instead of being angry with him, but the intent is not to share the same experience, but to share in the experience of that level of raw emotion.

As such, this explains why men have very brief but explosive arguments and fights. There is a moment where the expectation of empathy is missing, but through an angry verbal exchange (or fists), the expected empathy for each side's emotion is understood.

A solid example of this theory is when a guy is sad. Instead of comforting the guy, his fellows might exploit that moment of weakness and mock him for being that way. From an outside perspective, this may seem uncalled for, but the exchange relays the empathy that sad guy is expecting. It may cheer him up.

Now, continuing that example, if his friends don't acknowledge or do not comprehend the sadness that this guy is feeling, he may end up insulting them, ignoring them, or go out of his way to make his friends sad, guilty, angry or anything. The actual emotion itself doesn't matter, it's only the raw value of that emotion that needs to be shared.

Now, this breaks down quickly between men and women.

The counterpart to this would involve women:

A woman can be simply stripped down to some raw value of pure emotion to which she has an expectation of sympathy when it is conveyed to others so that they understand that raw value.

Since men have this expectation of empathy, women do not respond the way men would respond. Since sympathy is not a shared experience like empathy, women cannot respond properly to a man that is looking for empathy.

Women therefore look for more verbal queues and are just more verbal about their feelings in general. They are good at expressing their feelings through words. Women are also good at listening to others who are expressing their feelings. Since they only expect sympathy, they only know when to provide it if they are told to.

If a man were to say, "I am sad", they could sympathize and comfort the man. But since men do not say they are sad, but instead express it silently, a woman does not know when to sympathize.

Now, this may seem backwards, but it actually makes a lot of sense. For example, there is the classic situation where a woman may say "you just don't understand my feelings." and a man might respond "well, why don't you just tell me what you're feeling?"

This can be explained by the fact that men know how to empathize because they want to be empathized with. Since a woman wants to be SYMPATHIZED with, she does not have the capabilities of expressing herself in a non-verbal way in order to be empathized with. This frustration is initially caused by the fact that she sees the man empathizing with his guy friends, and a desire to also want that empathy. But because she herself is not looking for empathy, she does not properly convey the desire to be empathized with. The guy on the other hand is used to her wanting sympathy (which she expresses through verbal communication) and when she does not verbally communicate this, he explicitly asks for it so that he can sympathize with her raw value of emotion.

Phew, that was a lot of philosophizing. Questions or comments?

Go.

What would Jack Bauer do?

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Mon, 22 Jan 2007 16:30:00 +0000

Last night while driving in a heavy snow flurry with a light white coating of powder car death covering the highway, I realized I was driving over either a bridge or some kind of causeway that had water to both sides. The concrete safeguards didn't seem like they would keep a car from diving into the icy cold water on the sides.

So I started thinking random thoughts. What if I lost control in the snow and careened to my doom? How fast would the car sink?

My immediate reaction would be to try to open the window. I heard that when your car is sinking, the pressure of the water on the car will keep the doors from opening. But then, I thought, with electric windows, they probably would have shorted out when the electrical system took a swim.

So how much time did I have? Would I be able to unbuckle my seatbelt fast enough? What about my PSP?

I figure if the car sinks slowly, I would try to incredible-hulk the sunroof open before the entire car gets engulfed, but I have a feeling a car only stays above water for a very short time. I dunno why, but I think 2,500 pounds of metal would sink pretty fast. I doubt the air in the tires are enough to keep that much weight afloat.

I've also heard that since the doors don't open because of the outside pressure, you could wait for the car to fill up with water, hold your breath and open the door. I don't know if it works, and really, this doesn't go with the flow of my story, but in case this ever happens to anyone, I don't want that person's last thought to be "Wait, what did Allen say about escaping from a sinking car? Oh, that's right, he skipped it."

Regardless of the solution, I switched over to the thoughts of what I would do afterward. In the current situation with the heavy snowfall, there was no one on the road with me. If I somehow swam to land without freezing to death, what would I do next?

My cellphone would have shorted out, my clothes completely wet and the temperature at least below freezing (the snow was sticking). Would I die of hypothermia before another car came? If a car came, would they see me long enough to realize I'm completely drenched and not near a car? Let's say they did see me but only called the cops to let them know I was out there, would I freeze before the cop came?

If they did stop, would they be kind enough to let a muddy marsh water soaked man get into their car in order to warm up? Would I have to jump on the hood of their car and hope the heat from the engine keeps me warm until the cops came? Would me jumping on the hood of their car scare the shit out of them?

What's the next step after that? I get sent to the hospital. I don't have a car and I'm almost dead from hypothermia.

The worst part is, I wouldn't be able to contact someone to help me. Everyone's phone number is on my dead cellphone.

I haven't memorized a phone number since 1997.

Appreciate A Dragon Day, January 16th

noreply@blogger.com (Allen M) — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 17:16:00 +0000

In lieu of Martin Luther King Jr Day, let us prepare for another great holiday. According to this little website of obscure holidays, tomorrow is Appreciate a Dragon Day.

How did this holiday come about? I'm sure enough crazy people got together and proclaimed that it was, so therefore it must. Probably the same people who wanted national answer your cat's questions day and bubble wrap appreciation day.

On a random tangent, I almost spelled "in lieu of" as "in loo of". I knew it looked wrong, and I used Google to double check. Do you know how many wannabe professional blogs and article writers out there are using "in loo of"? Thank god I found this page which explains commonly misused/misspelled phrases.

I would like today to be National Don't Fuck Up the Spelling of Lieu Day... In lieu of Martin Luther King Jr. Day.