Hello, I'm a Mac commercial...

And I just crashed your Mozilla browser!

Fucking tards at Apple...

So I'm looking up something on Apple.com and I saw the link to watch their commercials. I like the Mac commercials, usually they're pretty funny.

Until you actually WATCH the damn thing and it causes an error!! Considering that their main selling point is how stable Macs are vs. PCs. And their commercial - undoubtedly created on a Mac - causes an error! Would that be irony?

Unless of course they deliberately put a crash-causing error into the Quicktime file's code and this is all a big ploy to cement in their commercial watchers' eyes just how bad PCs are. Which I don't need their help in believing, but... eh... whatever.

Dicks.

Haloscan sucks.

Why does it change my fonts? I'm looking at some of my posts and the damn fonts change in the middle of the post. To make things even worse, they look the same when I check the HTML code! It reads in the HTML code "Arial" and "100%"!! What else do I need to check here?

Baahstan trip, Day Three, Friday September 1st - Part One

As I prepare to reminisce, I wonder: WTF am I doing up at quarter 'til 11 when I have Overtime on the 'morrow? Methinks brain damage is a likely culprit.

And LO, Michael didth awaken upon the third day of his trek to the Father Land of Plymouth, Massachusetts. And LO, did his stomach rumbleth. And LO, had his sleep been good. (Hey, this is kind of fun, typing like this!)

Anyway, I got out of bed. Luckily, the highway traffic didn't stir me in the night as I had the night before. I had showered before crashing so I simply dressed, very eager to get to the eating of the breakfast. I got out to the "buffet" area and found... disappointment. They had cold cereal, bagels, donuts, coffee and tea. But nothing of the generous spread I'd found the morning before in Bedford, PA. I was rather annoyed as this hotel was more expensive (even though I was by myself) and I got considerably less for my dollars.

But instead of moping, I remembered my activities the night before. Coming in for the second or third time, I had seen a brochure in the hotel for Mystic, CT. And I remembered Rachael Ray going there on the show $40 A Day. Yes. I'm a FOODIE and I've completely accepted it. So using their internet access, I had pulled up the info on that episode on www.FoodTV.com and intended to do lunch there at once of the places she'd visited. So with my lousy breakfast choices, I decided I would have brunch there instead.

After packing the Ninja, I soon was off again on I-95 into yet another grey morning. I was a little chilled at first, but not miserably so. About 20 minutes down the road, I saw signs for I-91. I remembered that I was supposed to turn up I-91 to I-84, according to Mapquest. I was debating pulling over when I saw this:















My first view of the ocean! So I pulled over for a quick picture and navigational check. Consulting my map, I saw that Mapquest's prescribed route would not take me by Mystic. So I decided ride there anyway and brave the extra few miles on the odometer.

Staying on I-95, I happened on a nice long, straight path of interstate with no one around me. AND it was downhill. I smiled and pulled the throttle WFO. That's WIDE FUCKING OPEN! I ducked down to lessen the wind resistance and watched the speedometer race upward. I got the bike up to 110 MPH indicated. I figured I broke 100 MPH for certain. (Later, I realized that IF the speedo is off by 10%, I only got up to 99 MPH actual speed. A little disheartening, but it was still a major thrill!)

The sun soon wearily poked its shiny head out of the clouds, but it seemed to decide against making any sort of real appearance. Another twenty or thirty miles passed and I arrived on the hill overlooking historic (so I'm told) Mystic, CT.










(Sort of dismal looking, but that's the sort of day it was...)

I know it seems geeky, but I was sort of happy to be going someplace Rachael Ray had visited on TV. So I hopped back on my trusty Ninja and rode on down the hill for my needed sustainance. (Part Two tomorrow, I need sleep!)

I found God because of this!

There's no denying it now! I guess it's time to confess my sins...

Proof!

I hate my own guts...

...because they hate me first. I'm home sick. It came on very suddenly after eating some Life cereal before work. Have I been poisoned? Hmmmmm... maybe I can sue and get rich.

The plus side is that I should have time to finish my Boston blogging.

Baahstan trip, Day Two, Thor's Day August 31st

Well, we arose on Thursday morning. I still exhausted and my belly was still pretty cold. But we dressed and went to the Best Western's free, in-hotel breakfast. I truly did not expect too much. But, man! They had a full buffet going. I was actually stunned. Eggs, bagels, bacon, ham, sausages, Freedom toast, biscuits, juice. I gorged on various proteins and felt much better.

We packed our gear and I lubed my Ninja's chain. I told Shane to go ahead without me. That way, I would not be pushing myself too hard and he wouldn't be waiting on me and whining like a little bitch about it all day. Shane told me to keep in touch via cell and left. I topped off my gas down the street and checked my tire pressure. I was really far down on both tires and had not even noticed. But I filled the tires and noticed the bike's handling greatly improve as I turned onto the PA Turnpike.

The sky was forboding yet again. Not too dark, but not a bit of sun to be seen. I was still very chilled and pulled over for hot drinks often. I hit Starbucks (Nate's not the only one, I'm partial to the Chai Lattes myself) and then some more tunnels. One of which had me facing oncoming traffic as one of the two tunnels was shut down. VERY unnerving.

I soon switched over to I-76 and then onto a local road to get over to I-78 on the way to Allentown. The sun started peeking out while getting through Harrisburg and was soon beaming. I donned my clip-on shades, the temperature rose nicely and my spirits rose somewhat. I didn't notice my fatigue too much at this point. I soon stopped somewhere along I-78 after seeing a big sign for sheepskins. I hoped to get a new buttpad, not caring about cost at this point as my backside was throbbing like I'd been at a sleepover at Michael Jackson's house.

The store was more like a shack than anything else. The lady behind the register was a serious hick, but pleasant. I found a remnant to use as a seat cover and it was only about $20. It's a dingy brown and not nearly so stylish as my Holstein, but beggars, choosers, etc. She gave me a length of stretchy material, scissors and six safety pins for attaching the thing to my bike. About a half hour later, I zoomed away with my new seat cover and soon arrived in Allentown.

My hunger started becoming annoying, so I pulled off the interstate and found a deli where the brain-dead morons served me a COLD pastrami sandwich. In an astounding display of being brain-dead myself, I didn't complain or have them warm it up. From the deli, I rang my brother Dave and greeting him by singing "And I'm calling here from Allentown - DAH-DAH-DUN-DAH!" (from the Billy Joel song). He asked if I was making lousy time and I said yes. Not much else to say at that point, really.

Getting on the road again, which I couldn't wait to do... I neared New Jersey. The road conditions started sucking big time at this point. I notice that wasn't the toll road. I think the money's worth the smooth roads.

The road didn't improve crossing the Jersey border, either. And the printed Mapquest directions were confusing as hell. I pulled over for some refreshment and to check my atlas. I saw my first Dunkin Donuts in years. I'm fairly sure I ordered a Bavarian Cream to go with my iced tea. (Little did I know what I was starting here...)

The Jersey folks seemed pretty nice for folks that have to put up with being next to New York. They drove in a hurry, but not rudely. That was soon to change as I decided to go via I-87 and the Tappan Zee Bridge instead of the George Washington. I figured the farther away from NYC I was, the better the flow of traffic would be.

HA!

Traffic on the Tappan Zee was light until I got ONTO the bridge. Then it came to a dead stop every 20 feet. This gave me a welcome opportunity to view the Hudson River. At that point (and still) it was the largest body of water I'd ever crossed. A gorgeous view, as it was just a little after sunset. (Told you I was making really lousy time...) I laughed at some dolts changing lanes every 10 seconds, attempting to get an advantage. One Puerto Rican-looking chick ended up WAY behind me with this method. A black guy earned about 3 car lengths. Idiots.

After tiring of the view and a long time had passed, I finally got over the bridge and passed by the problem: A black woman driver driving on a flat tire at about 2 MPH. Such brain power. "HONEY! IT'S CALLED A FUCKING SPARE!" She could have changed it twice and been off of the bridge faster than she did by putting along like a droolie.

I paid my toll and zipped into the night of New York. And was slapped by a stark reality: New York drivers are assholes! They drive as though possessed by Satan on crack at the Brickyard 400. It was as though God threw the "ASSHOLE" switch in their brains at the toll booth! I was in fear of my fellow lane occupants for the first time the whole trip.

Now I was in New York, making decent time. So (of course) while riding through Westchester County, my bike began sputtering. Luckily, there was an exit readily available to me and I rolled up the hill before it stalled. I began cursing, and cursed MUCH louder when I saw that I'd left the reserve selector on "Reserve". So I was completely dry. I put the kickstand down and walked up the hill to see a shopping area down the road. So I pushed the bike up the hill about a quarter mile to the top so I could coast to the gas station below. I kept hoping Peter, Kurt or Logan would pop out to help. But no such luck.

So I filled up my dry tank and trudged on. I somehow made it through NY's confusing highway signs on to I-91 and onto I-95 into Connecticut. WHICH, by the way, is Mohegan Indian for "Beside the Long Tidal River." Didn't know that, did you? My blog, ladies and gents!!! Pointless and annoying and YET educational as well.

Connecticut drivers are retards too. In the dark of the CT interstate, I was treated to frequent and complete stops on the interstate for no discernible reason. I started swearing in my helmet again. Stupid people should just die. And I should be the one to kill them. Often.

Eventually, I stopped in Fairfield at their Best Western. I figured I could get the same great breakfast I got in Bedford, PA that morning. I could actually taste the bacon as I checked in. So I parked in the back and pulled my three bags off of the bike. And proceed to find out that the key wouldn't work on the outside doors of the hotel. I had to walk all the way around, back into through the front doors and on to the back of the hotel. The clerk said the outside doors just weren't working right. Thanks for the fucking update, lady! I'm cold and exhausted but thank GOD I get to carry my bags all over because your damn hotel isn't working right! (Man, I'm still pissed about that over two weeks later! I must have issues.)

So I asked the same clerk if there were any Italian restaurants within walking distance. She gave me bad directions and I stumbled across this one:

Just not the one I wanted based on the menu the clerk had shown me in the hotel lobby. But I entered. The place looked empty as it was around 9:30PM. I was seated near a gaggle of middle-aged females. They babbled annoyingly and loudly about their workplace as my stomach rumbled on. As luck would have it, my waitress was a stunning brunette. And of course she had a boyfriend. I asked for a sample of their sweetest red wine. It still tasted like vinegar. (Why can't places carry sweeter reds? This annoys me to no end.) I ordered a cranberry and vodka as a substitute. We flirted a bit and she brought me an awesome vodka Penne with bacon and proscuitto. Very good stuff.

I left and walked back to the hotel via a different route, thinking I had gone the long way around. I was right and on the way I came across this building's sign:



Too weird.

I got back and realized I had not bought a toothbrush. So I asked the clerk. She had a brush, but no paste. So (even though I'd had a drink) I got back on the cycle and went to a 24-hour drug store. I didn't even remove my helmet the whole time in the store. But at least I had my clean teeth! I watched a little TV and crashed in a nice, warm bed. The interstate kept me from instantly dozing off, but not for too long.

The vacation will NOT be televised...

or even shown in pictures. Because my brother and Shane don't send me pictures when asked. That is all.

Sorry, DJ.

Baahstan trip, Day One, Wednesday August 30th

This tale actually started the day before. Tuesday night, I was a mess. My house was a mess, my yard was a mess (more on this later if I remember to rant), my clothes were a mess, everything. And best of all, I didn't get into bed until about 0300 AM. That's three in the morning and I was still up.

I awoke to my Ninja alarm tone on my phone at 0730 and rushed to work. I wanted to clear up about a million dollars worth of invoices that were going to pay interest in the following next few days. I rushed about like a lunatic and left around 0930. I zipped back home and prepared for my nightmare, I mean VACATION. Vacation... yeah...

Shane was my traveling companion (I could have picked a pit bull, but who wants a companion with a sunny disposition by way of comparison?). Shane was driving a Mustang of somewhat recent vintage (1999?) and I would be following him into NY where he go into NYC and pick up my brother's girlfriend and drive her up to see him and I'd just head straight on through. Yup. That was the plan.

(A bit of a confession. When starting this trip, I had more than a little bit of hesitation. In fact, I was seriously questioning my sanity for even thinking about it. I mean, me on my Kawasaki Ninja 250 on a 2000 mile round trip. And me only riding this bike since April and only getting a little over 2K on the odo. Can someone think of a dumber idea? Maybe if I had jock itch too?)

So after 10 false starts, going back into the house two or three times and listening to Shane whine like a little bitch about me holding us up, I donned my helmet and off we headed out East on I-70.

The first bit of bad news happened on the ramp from I-465 to I-70. It's a two-lane, elevated overpass that's banked pretty steep. I realized that I'd never been on it before on the Ninja. And I had the luck to find an eighteen-wheeler on my right and another behind. I leaned into the turn at 50 MPH or so and felt the sensation of my tires sliding out from under. Which would lead me right UNDER the semi's tires. I think I came fairly close to making it a self-fulfilling prophecy in my fright. So we were off to a bad start, you could say.

That sort of panic has never happened to me before and I really hope it never reoccurs. I honestly don't know if it was a dangerous situation or my head was just messing with me. I would like to say the former, but I WAS exhausted and nervous besides. I think I'm going to hit that ramp again in light traffic just to see if I'm nuts or not

I cranked the throttle and followed Shane. We rode for a bit before I noticed that my left saddlebag's rain cover was flapping like mad in the wind. I signaled for Shane to take the next exit. I saw my right saddlebag's rain cover was gone. And the left's had already burned on the tailpipe, even though I thought I'd lifted them high enough. Live and learn the hard way, as always.

I think it was at this point that I realized I'd forgotten my ever-stylish Moo-Cow sheepskin buttpad. A bird had crapped on it a few days earlier and I took it off the bike for a quick wash the night before. So of course, I left it at home. More good news.

Riding on, I found that the wind was not a problem at 60 (as indicated on my Ninja, subtract around 10% for approx. accurate speeds). 70 was pretty hard to deal with and 80 made the wind a total bitch to wrestle with. So I tried to keep it around 70, except to pass the rigs.

We putted along for a good while on into Ohio and stopped in Springfield for lunch and gas. We ate at an Italian pizza and sub shop. My aim while on vacation was to avoid chains as much as possible. Oddly, my lunch came up to $7.77, which is Steve Vai's favorite number. So I thought it might be good luck, even though I really don't believe too much in luck. Mostly since mine is always bad.

Shane sat and blogged on his Star Trek phone/PC/microwave/transmogrifier while eating. I personally wouldn't own a phone that costs that much. It's just begging to have me do something stupid like drop it in the ocean.

After lunch, we topped off our tanks and I noticed that Shane's car was leaking gasoline. As in a LOT of gasoline. He was leaving a visible trail on the street. I thought I'd been smelling gas the whole trip. I hate being right. He later told me that it only leaked when you filled it to the top. Little did he know it leaked even some time after topping off. I kept picturing him hitting a pothole, his chassis sparking and me getting hit with flaming debris. Amusing, but possibly dangerous. Nothing I could do at that point, though.

The sky soon greyed up and I worried about rain. I wore jeans and had rain pants to cover them.

But I still didn't want to play in the water sports. Luckily, God kindly answered my fervent pleas for no rain. That was really cool, but I'm sure it was a complete coincidence.

We kept on, not stopping too much. But Shane kept bitching about taking too long to get anywhere. What the hell did he expect? I told him before we left I would need to break at least every hour and a half or so. I'm pretty sure we went over two hours more than once, much to my ass's dismay.

We did recieve a nice surprise. CHEAP GAS! It was $2.39 or so in Ohio. With my five gallon tank, I must have saved... like... a dollar.

Somewhere in Ohio, I had a rude awakening. I was passing a semi at 90 indicated to keep up with Shane. As I came around the semi's cab, I was hit by a blast of wind that almost sent me right off of the road. It was a true "HOLY SHIT" moment to say the very least. Luckily, I only went into the breakdown lane a tiny bit and recovered quickly. Another tough lesson learned!

We cut through Ohio on into West Virginia for about 5 minutes, some of which was spent in a series of tunnels. They are quite freaky actually. I felt as though the tunnel was trying to hypnotize me. But that was over soon enough and we kept on through PA onto the PA Turnpike. I saw lots of Steelers stickers and assorted fan crap on various vehicles, thinking "Fuck Pittsburg" every time I saw them. (Nope, not bitter about the playoffs. Nope, nope, nope.)

It was some time into Pennsylvania that I started to really feel the cold. It sapped my strength , leaving me sleepy at 70MPH. I actually started nodding off at one point. Not a good thing. It was around this time that I lost Shane. I said "whatever" to myself, seeing no point in panicking about it. While riding along, I saw his 'Stang on the side of the road. I didn't slow down and he followed me to a service area some miles ahead.

There he told me that he had pulled over so we could stop for the night. Of course, you can't turn around on the pike. No, that would be too easy. Since we were there at the service area I bought a crappy burger for dinner and tried to warm myself up a bit. We trudged on to the next lodging exit at Bedford, PA. Not too far short of halfway to our final destination.

We got off the Pike and checked in. I took a shower and put on my shorts to join Shane at the hot tub. For some stupid reason, I thought a dip in the pool might loosen up my body. So I swam for a bit and then hopped in the hot tub. We didn't stay too long though.

I should have stayed a lot longer. My belly, crotch and legs were still very cold. I bundled up under the blankets, but couldn't get warm. I also realized I'd forgotten my toothbrush and paste. More good news! Shane watched poker on ESPN (since when is poker a SPORT?) and then crashed. I still couldn't get warm. I started to worry a bit. But to make matters worse, I couldn't sleep with all of the traffic from the interstate. I was soon up past three for two nights in a row. I began to wonder if I would live through this trip and somewhere after that, fell asleep.

Another TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY into the books...

Ahoy!!! I didn' be annoyin' sa many lubbers dis year. Only one wench gotter 'er dainties inna wad. I said "Yer opinion, don't matter, wench!" (A coworker looked up "wench" and said "Mike, that wasn't very nice!" True story!)

I guess I didn' be layin' it on quite sa thick as las' year. Alas!! Back den, I did be havin' SCADS a lubbers tellin' me ta shut me yap an' the such...

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr!! Those did be the days... Aye, those did be the days...

I be signing off fer the bunk now...
Mike The One-Eyed Pirate

P.S. : (Not that we dread pirates be usin' the PS too oft. We prefer cutlasses ta make our point. HAR-HAR!! "Make our point"... anyway... I be digressin'....

Da Bahstan updates be a comin'. If ye be an impatient buxom beauty da likes a Darlin' Joy, keep yer skanty clothes unbunched. Tis a comin', lass! Tis a comin'.

A milestone... what A RUSH!!!

(At least Nate should get a chuckle...)

So I was headed up into Anderson, IN to buy a pair of riding boots the Sunday before my trip. That would make it Sunday, August 27th.

I was on I-69 and saw my odo was just about 2100.

Being a total geek, I pulled over at the proper mileage indication to take pictures with my phone. As luck would have it, this put me on an off ramp of the highway right here at the Fortville exit:


I had to GEDDY ready to get back on the road. I dropped my phone and had to NEIL to get it! I zipped back onto the highway and a guy said "Careful! That could be your LIFE,SON!"



It sure was a beautiful day for riding. Too bad my helmet scooped four termite looking critters into my hair. My friend was a bit freaked out by their appearance on my person while sitting on her couch!

This goes back six weeks or so...

I'm only posting this because it was still on my phone and I couldn't d/l it until tonight for some strange reason.

ANYWAY... THIS was seen in the infield at the Brickyard 400 this year (I refuse to call it its official, sell-out, sponsored name). I can't believe the Ohio BMV let this one through:

My older brother Dave saw it and pointed it out to me by the Jimmy Johnson merch trailer. Too funny.

My trip to Boston...

Well... actually I never even went INTO Boston, now that I think of it. Just around it a whole bunch. So writing about it seems almost sort of unseemly. But I guess I can start writing of my grand adventure on the morrow. Maybe by then my brother will have emailed me the pictures he promised. Regardless, the tales will flow and the pics will be edited in as they arrive. I can't get the few pics from my phone and I don't know why. It IS, however, pissing me off big time.

EDIT: Sooooo, of course as soon as I posted this I gave the phone another shot and it worked. Whatever. I hate technology. I was born 220 years too late. (A 1752 birthdate would have let me shoot at some Lobsterbacks.)

And the T-800's are right behind...

"Any potential drawbacks?"
"Naaaaaaahhhhhhhhh..."

"That's good advice!"

Sage advice for you n'er do wells out there.

http://www.flexyourrights.org/arrests_and_incarcerations

Sobering fact: Half of ALL drug arrests in the US in 2000 were for weed possession. WEED POSSESSION! Yeah, that's our police state at work, keeping us safe from all of those violent stoners! Hell, these potheads are FAR more likely to kill you with BOREDOM, talking about "Saved by the Bell" or the local L.S. Ayres store closing down than attack anyone to score some bud. Wow. How flipping retahded. (Picked up a slight Bahstan accent...)

I've never "Toked" but I almost feel like doing it just to spite the MAN!

How much money is wasted on this crap?