next time lock the door

I was out with my fam at a local eatery today when I realized I needed to make a business call on the porcelain telephone. For the metaphorically challenged, that means I had to use the can.

As I opened the mens room door I made two unsettling discoveries. The first was that this was one of those bathrooms that is just a sink and a toilet. No stalls. No nothing really. In and of itself that's not such a big deal except when considered alongside my second discovery, which was that this bathroom was occupied.

Luckily the guy was only drying his hands when I yanked the door open but instinctively I shut the door quickly, apologizing as I did so. It happens so fast.

"No problem, dude!" came the voice as he opened the door to step past me out into the hall. "I was done anyway."

Obviously, if that had been the end of it this wouldn't be a story for me to tell anyone let alone blog about.

As he walked past he gave me one of those buddy buddy forearm smashes (lightly, but obviously an invasion of my personal space) and said, "it's all you."

No shit, Sherlock. It better be all me.

And of course it was since I know how to lock the bathroom door.

euthanasia in the blog-o-sphere

City Weekly is a local publication originating north of the UC (that's Utah County for those not familiar with geography in the jello belt) that recently revealed it's list of "Utah's Best," jointly selected by writers AND readers. All I really learned from this list is that people in Utah love FOX 13 news. They love it, love it, love it.

In other words, people in Utah are dumb.

I'm not bagging on the Beehive State, there are dumb people everywhere.

The one category that blew my mind was for "best blogger" and of course Utah's best blogger was Dooce who has a huge following, lots of cute and funny little stories, has won "bloggies" and everything else you would expect.

I hold no ill will toward Dooce, she is a fine blogger. What made my brain pop were the blogs that City Weekly chose as their second and third best. Second is a blog that recaps what happens every day on the X96 morning show. The third was something that kept readers apprised of various happenings and sales in the state, I honestly didn't look at it too closely after I realized it wasn't interesting.

It smells of a cop out of massive proportions. And no, I am not feeling snubbed or anything silly like that. I am simply flabbergasted that this was the best they could come up with.

Luckily, Google's blogger has given me the tools to look into the matter personally. In the last hour I have sifted through all of the blogs (on blogger) from Provo and Springville and have decidedly discovered 3,196 solid candidates for Utah's worst blog. Maybe City Weekly was right after all. If there is something better out there, I will find it. At least I'm starting to narrow it down a bit through the process of elimination.

The search goes on, I'll let you know what I find.

S-Mart is real!

Holy crap! I alway used S-mart (the retailer that employs the greatest enemy to evil who ever graced the silver screen) as a means to describe my workplace in order to soften any bad-mouthing I may or my not be doing about my actual employer. Tonight, researching some other writing I'm doing, I discovered that S-Mart is actually a chain of stores in Mexico.

I always thought I was just recycling a joke from a really cool movie but now I wonder if anyone who has passed by my blog thinks I really do work in a grocery store in Mexico.

That's just silly...

or is it?

Now we really can pry the gun from his cold dead hand...

Goodbye Charlton Heston. Thanks for everything.

kids... oy

Last night while driving my little ones to their dance class, my eight year old daughter--out of nowhere mind you--said something about how she hoped I never got shot.

"I would be so sad if you died, daddy" she tells me.

I assured her that if I died I would be sad too. She was quiet for a moment before offering "you mean like zombie sad?"


Of course, there is the other side of the coin -

Today she tells me I remind her of a seahorse. "Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Cause of your great big belly."

don't get your hopes up

Perhaps bracing for let down and fan disappointment that seems to eventually come with the anticipation of a long awaited sequel to any movie George Lucas made with the obvious exception of Howard the Duck and The Radioland Murders, Uncle G told the press that the upcoming installment in the Indiana Jones franchise is "just a movie."

Mr. Lucas, I can understand why you might have some apprehension from this new Indy adventure living up to fan expectation but you sound as if you are preparing for a backlash. Having witnessed the Star Wars prequels, I can also understand your concern and desire to not over-inflate fan expectation. But unless the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is ruled by Jar Jar Binks I wouldn't lose too much sleep over it.

edit - I think I should clarify that this movie will have to be pretty bad for me to not like it. I'm still a little concerned that George Lucas was the one who wasn't happy with the scripts for all those years. I can imagine him saying "Can we add a line where someone says they have a bad feeling about this? It's a good way for a character to convey the tone of the moment without having to spend a lot of time establishing it through other means. Then we have more money left over to render Jar Jar."

For the most part, I think I'll just be able to sit back and enjoy the show.

when you got nothing, beat the dead horse.

Ever wish you could pick who you lived next to?

If I could fill my complex with the people I wanted to live near any time you'd visit me you might catch a glimpse of Crispin Glover, the Jim Rose Circus Side Show, Chuck Norris, someone who is always cooking pretzels, a dude with a monster truck but not a mullet, a dude with a mullet that monster truck guy and I can give shit to (and run over his car... oops we didn't see you there while cruising around in this monster truck, these massive tires create some wicked large blind spots), Al Roker, Al Green, Al Franken (I seem to be stuck in some sort of creative loop), Flash Van Shatner (small claims attorney), and of course Yale President Richard Levin.

That's right, Rick. I bet you thought I forgot. There you are pretending to be so caught up in how you've been President of Yale for 15 years and sharing your thoughts on China when we all know you are really just waiting for me to post on my blog so you can give me shit. In retrospect it was probably a mistake to give you my home phone number. I can sense you stretching your dialing finger as I type this. If only there were some device I could procure that would tell me exactly who was calling when the phone rings so I could avoid another Ivy League beatdown...

But Mr. Levin, if we were neighbors you could save yourself some money in long distance charges by walking right to my door and punching me in the face. That would be awesome. Then later, after I put some ice on my nose and the swelling of my eye went down, we could stand out by fence wearing flip flops and smoking cigars while exchanging witty repartee with the good folks walking to and from the corner liquor store.

Just a thought.