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  • Nerds!!

    I want Rock Band.

    I have a Wii.

    I have been told it's tons better on the XBox360.

    I need advice!

    In all seriousness, I am concerned. I don't want to shell out for a 360 just for one game, but I don't want a miserable Rock Band experience. A friend and 360 enthusiast claimed that the download capabilities of the Wii were not good enough for RB, but was too busy playing RB to elaborate.

    My kids often play MarioKart on the Wii using the worldplay feature, and can play for hours without getting booted off the wi-fi. Does this mean that our download experience won't suck as much as others, or simply that we can play MarioKart for hours?

    I have the right television for it, along with the wireless internet connection.

    Should I just shell out for the 360? And before you ask, the answer is no, I will not be buying other games to play on the 360. I really enjoy the Wii, and I play my gory shoot-em-ups online anyway.

    Feel free to enhance my knowledge and/or sway my decision in the comments section.

    Break Stuff

    Today is just one of those days. Crabby, unhappy, and generally unrepentant.

    I am not feeling like pleasing anyone today, and I really don't care if that hurts anyone's feelings. It's really too bad, because the sun is shining, and the temperature is trying to warm a little. But no, I'm cranky.

    Feel free to vent in the comments.

    May The Farce Be With You..... Always!

    This morning while driving to The Girl and The Boy to school, we were chit-chatting. The Boy wasn't really paying attention, only butting in every few sentences or so. And then we saw him at the midway crossing: Mace Windu.

    Mace Windu works at The Girl's high school. Tall, dark, shiny dome, and forever pointing a finger, he's in charge of discipline, and the kids say he's mean. The Girl supposed he was even in the military.

    "In the military"? What does that mean, I ask. She explains that military people are, you know, like that. Like what, I inquire. The Girl says that military people, you know, are just mean.

    I reminded her that her dad has 18 years on active duty, and he's not "like that."

    The Boy perked up and asked, "What, bald?"



    Mace Windu vs Mister, or
    Like that vs. not quite like that!

    1984?

    Allegedly, there is a war going on somewhere, one in which the United States is heavily engaged. You wouldn't know that, if you had watched Fox News for the first time ever yesterday morning.

    Over the weekend, a soldier murdered several fellow soldiers in theater. Also, the rates of drug use and misuse among soldiers is increasing. More jobs and homes are being lost every day. Governmental spending at every level across America is grossly bloated and unsupportable. One might hold up California on the brink of bankruptcy as an example, but because this happens on a regular cycle, we'll skip that and move on to other things, like the college professor who murdered his wife and several others, and then committed suicide. Or the rampant use of performance-enhancer drugs in professional sports.

    And this is just the stuff going on with the USA. We don't have time to carry on with the rest of the planet.

    On the whole, things are not lovely. Really and truly, the only silver lining is that our reservoir is now at full pool, and the weather is still cool enough to keep the windows open to catch the breeze. The rest is crap.

    However, what qualifies as a news alert for Fox News is none of this. No, the channel has decided that a beauty-pageant contestant and her under-age nudie photos qualifies as an "Alert!" with the same level of saturation one might expect if a plane full of Congressmen crashed in a ball of fire into an orphanage hosting a dog show.

    So a pageant contestant gets to keep her crown because nude and semi-nude photos she had taken back when she was 17 were not meant to be published but were instead for a modeling portfolio. Big whupdee doodles.

    Come on, Fox. The USA may often appear to be full of proles, but it's not, unless you help make it so. Raise the bar, freaks. Raise the bar.

    Swamp Thing

    Over the last year or two, I stood back in horror as I watched my mortgage company get rightfully pilloried for being at the front of the national (and then worldwide) housing crisis. Being the #1 issuer of questionable mortgages, Countrywide became even more infamous thanks to a series of television ads that told clients they could "get help" through them, but then denied nearly every applicant.

    Unfortunately, sensible people like me were the real victims. I bought only what I could afford on one paycheck even though I was urged by one real estate agent to buy twice that ("You're military--you'll get the credit easy!"). I have made every payment on time. I paid extra into the escrow when I knew the my property taxes were going up. I haven't taken out a home equity loan against my house.

    How does that make me a victim? I don't get a share in the "bailout," but I can certainly fund it.

    Home buyers are as much to blame for this mess as mortgage lenders. People know when their credit is questionable, or even downright bad. Add the temptation of loose mortgage regulations and we have bailout soup. Irresponsible lenders and irresponsible borrowers are getting a helping hand at my expense, and I'm supposed to be okay about this.

    And then, adding rock salt to this festering wound, I log in this week to pay my mortgage only to discover that one bad apple has been changed for another: Bank of America bought out Countrywide's mortgages.

    My first thought was, "How could I possibly make it any worse for myself?! Jehovah! Jehovah!"

    My second thought was, "Super. F'n super."

    It takes a real man to wear tights!

    Please, someone explain to me why I belly-laughed until it hurt over this:





    Thanks, XKCD, for another great day!

    Happy Star Wars Day!

    Yes, I know what you're thinking. But just because I think badly of George Lucas it does not mean that I have turned away from the entire franchise. I just said he's not getting any more of my money.

    And so, without further ado, May The 4th Be With You, Always.

    It's our boy with no pants!

    I live in a quiet residential area that is, but isn't, a subdivision. One main drag that winds its way between two connectors, there are no signs indicating you are in [name redacted] subdivision. We're just a cluster of similar brick ranch dwellings, all but one without a garage, and popular with teenagers because it's fun to race through here, apparently.

    This morning I was off to the hardware store to buy a machete. As I was weaving my way through the maze of cars no one likes to park in their private driveways (?!), I noticed two adults and some kids crowded around the back of a minivan. I slowed down even more for safety--one never knows when those little kids will decide it's a good time to dart into the street--when I noticed that the man was wearing some seriously tight shorts.

    voice in my head: "Dude's way too tubby to be wearing bike shorts. Spandex at your size.... OMG those are underpants!!"

    Yes, my neighbor was wearing a pair of tight-fitting boxer-briefs out in the sunny public on a lovely Sunday at noon. But wait! There's more! His waistband was rolled down and his butt crack was peeking out.

    What has been seen, can never be unseen. I may never sleep peacefully again.