The Dow Is Up!

I read an article yesterday on Yahoo about a blogger who happened to get himself busted via his blog. Here's the article article from the Washington Post. Basically, this kid killed a friend by grabbing the steering wheel as a (drunk) passenger in a car. Okay, that's not a good thing to do. He had the smarts, though, to claim that he didn't remember what happened. That's completely feasible. In fact, I think it even happened on a very special episode of Blossom. (I hear Fish calling "bullshit" somewhere.)

Anyway, at some point, this genius decided to confess on his blog that he did grab the steering wheel. Oh boy. I don't understand what would make someone do that. The Wife told me that it's called a "conscience." I looked it up in the dictionary, but I don't understand it. You did something bad and got away with it. Good for you! Go have a beer. Don't go telling people about it!

It's quite possible that this guy thought that his blog was completely anonymous. I'm not an idiot (though many people would like to argue). But even I know the web's not anonymous. After all, in every CSI episode, they end up tracking someone down by their anonymous emails or blogs or message boards or something. (By the way, where's Fish when I need a "bullshit" called? I think I might get a tape of him saying that so I can play it while watching CSI. What a ridiculous show. "We have a blurry photo of a guy from 3 miles away. Let me just zoom in on him and smooth everything out. There it is! Abraham Lincoln is the killer!" And yet I keep watching it....)

Back on topic, I know that nothing on the internet is truly anonymous. The only reason I don't use my name on this blog is because I don't want to make it REALLY easy for employers to find out that I'm writing it. Believe me, the last thing I want popping up next to my name when I get Googled is this blog. Well, that and my picture. ("I'm sorry, we have a strict policy against hiring ugly people with wispy mustaches and muttonchop sideburns.")

In the spirit of this moron from Florida and his guilty conscience, I'd like to confess to some things in my past to see if I'll get in any trouble. First off, I kidnapped the Lindbergh baby. Phew! That's a load off my mind. I've been bottling that up for over 70 years now. I also killed JFK. Yeah, I was the second shooter on the grassy knoll. Oh, and I'm the one that greenlighted the Magic Johnson Show. Now I'm just going to sit back and wait for these stories to break nationally so I can end up in Yahoo news.

Elliott Smith killed himself on October 21, 2003. It seems like it was longer ago than that. Right now I'm listening to his posthumously-released album From a Basement on the Hill. It's a really great album, but all I can think of now when I listen to his music is how tragic it is that Elliott Smith is no longer with us.

You might recognize some of Smith's music from the movie Good Will Hunting. His songs permeated the movie. In fact, it was that movie that first turning me onto Smith. He writes very simple but beautiful songs. They're really not the type of music I like to listen to. They're soft and often include a piano. They can also be very depressing with a hint of anger underneath them.

One of the songs on this album, Pretty (Ugly Before), typifies all I said above. It's a tragically beatiful song that I can't stop listening to. Here's a sample of the lyrics:

Sometimes is all I feel up to now
But it's not worth it to you
Cos you gotta get out somehow
It's the destruction that you require to feel
Like somebody wants you, someone that's more for real

I've been a fan of most of his albums, but I find it hard to listen to him now, knowing that he killed himself. I feel like every song is a window into his troubled soul. I feel sad that nobody could do anything to help him. I feel sorry that I won't be hearing any new music from him. I just have a lot more emotion than I do when I listen to a Poison album. (There, I ust think that I can't believe I wasted so many of my junior high years listening to this crap.)

It's a common statistic that the simple act of owning pets makes people live longer. My old college roommate, whom I call Fish (hee hee, nobody will ever figure out who he is now), used to always call me out on my statistics. I can't blame him either, because I'd never let a lack of factual proof get in the way of any of my arguments. As Homer Simpson said, "People can come up with statistics to prove anything. Forty percent of all people know that."

As we're preparing to host Christmas this year, I've been saddled with most of the home improvement and cleaning projects. I can't really complain. I have nothing better to do with my time. Literally nothing. Daytime TV isn't what it's cracked up to be, and I can only watch so many episodes of American Chopper on TiVo. And really, I don't mind cranking up the radio (actually, my iPod is what's cranking through the radio speakers) and getting some work done.

Today, my project was steam cleaning the carpets. The average household probably needs to do this once every few years. But since we have two cats and a dog, we have to do it more frequently. Much more frequently.

The cats love to fight each other. This isn't too abnormal. Most cats do. Because they're jerks. So there's always plenty of hair all over the carpet. The Kirby vacuum (great vacuum by the way, if I may sound like Mr. Mom for a second) picks up most of that without a problem. The real problem with the cats is that Simba can't keep his food down very well. In fact, I'm starting to think he's bulimic. Whenever I put the food out, he makes a big show of how much he can eat. But as soon as I turn my back, I hear wretching. I tried showing him the very special episode of Facts of Life where Blair battles bulimia, but he wouldn't pay attention. (By the way, am I making that up about FOL? I swear I remember watching that. Fish would be calling "bullshit" on me right now.)

Compounding the Simba puking problems is my dog Mocha. Mocha will eat anything. In fact, last night when we were moving around furniture, I noticed some chewed up pieces of wood on the floor. I couldn't figure out what they were from. Turns out, they were from a snowman sled. They were his "charcoal buttons." I put them back in the sled. Today, I find Mocha chewing on them again.

Anyway, Mocha figures that if it's on the ground, it's fair game for eating. (She also figures that if it's at all possible for her to reach it, it's fair game.) You can see how this is problematic. Because food that won't stay in a cat probably won't stay in a dog either. Combine that with Mocha's incontinence problems and we have to steam clean our carpets a LOT.

Which brings me to my point: having pets is GREAT! I can literally feel myself aging (but not dying, which is important) every time one of them vomits on the carpet. Or when my dog bites one of my friends. Or when she tries to kill another dog for no apparent reason. Or when Mocha chases Simba around the house, knocking over lamps, vases, babies, whatever. I can really feel the stress melting away. Owning pets is just wonderful. Everybody should do it.

Today I was vacuuming the house. Yes, now that I'm unemployed and off of school, I have all kinds of fun chores around the house. As I was vacuuming, I hit a snag. Figuring that the cord was snagged on something, I turned around to find Luke holding the cord and smiling. Apparently, he was enjoying this game of tug-of-war with the vacuum cleaner.

I've been having quite a hard time writing the past few days. I don't know what it is. Perhaps it's that I haven't written in so long and my brain has turned to Swiss cheese. That would explain why the cats keep trying to lick inside my ears. That or, like all other cats, they're just retarded.

As you can tell from my last post, I'm having problems putting coherent thoughts together. That's the third column I tried to write about Howard Stern that basically turned into nothing. I figured I'd just post it anyway. Yeah, I have no pride in my workmanship. The Wife can attest to that thanks to my shoddy work fixing up the house.

Speaking of which, we finally got the crown molding up in our dining room. It looks pretty sweet. It was also quite a pain to do. It necessitated a compound miter saw (which is a cool toy). We bought that in a combo pack with a nail gun (which is even cooler). Of course, after we got them home and I took out the nail gun, I realized it worked via compressed air. Which meant I had to go buy an air compressor. So, $400 later, I've finally got a bunch of cool tools to do the job. And once I got them, it was a very simple project to complete. In fact, if any of you want crown molding done in your house, let me know. For a small fee (say, um, $400), I'll put it up in no time.

Anyway, as I'm discovering about home improvement, nothing is ever as easy as it seems. Fortunately, all home improvement projects have been put on hold for the next few days. We have to clean up the house for Christmas. We're hosting the family (9 adults, 3 children under the age of 4). It should be a blast, but it means we're actually going to have to clean the house. I'm not looking forward to that. I much prefer making a mess, which might explain my problems doing home improvement in the first place....

There were a couple huge developments since I last wrote last week. Two eras ended rather profoundly. First, Howard Stern retired from terrestrial radio. Second, Kyle Orton was forced to retire from starting quarterback. It's easy to say that my life won't ever be the same because of these events.

For the longest time, I thought Howard Stern was a moron and jerk. Now I realize he's a moron, a jerk, and a genius. I can understand why people don't like him. The problem is that a lot of the people who don't like him have never actually listened to him. Sure, he talks about farts and has strippers doing unmentionable acts on the air. But the truth of the matter is that Howard Stern is the single biggest proponent of free speech in my lifetime.

I didn't really start listening to Howard Stern until 9/11. I remember the shock of what had happened. I turned on Stern to hear what he had to say since he was broadcasting right from New York. Of course, he was pre-empted by Dan Rather for some odd reason. It's a shame too because I've heard that that morning's broadcast was one of the best of his career. Every morning after that, I tuned into Stern to hear what he had to say about what was going on this country. His honesty became too much for me. I couldn't turn him off.

And now he's headed for Sirius Satellite Radio, which is a pay service. I'd love to follow him because I'm curious what he's going to do without the restrictions that the FCC placed on him. Since I'm unemployed, it's hard to justify paying $12 a month to listen to Howard Stern have a midget take fart on a stripper. But it's broadcasting like that which will no doubt make me pay that $12 a month at some point in the near future.

For the longest time, I thought Kyle Orton was a moron and a jerk. Now I realize, he's a moron, a jerk, and a terrible quarterback. I can understand why people don't like him. The problem is that he sucks. Sure, he throws the ball away a lot and rarely throws an interception. But the truth of the matter is that Kyle Orton is the single worst quarterback on the Bears this year.

Okay, that's about as far as my comparison to Howard Stern goes. Kyle Orton was terrible this year. He had flashes of brilliance. But let's be honest, we all have flashes of brilliance. That doesn't mean that we should be QB-ing the Bears to their first Super Bowl appearance in 20 years.

It seems strange that (a) I won't be able to listen to Howard Stern in the morning and (b) the Bears might actually score more than 13 points in a game this season. But with Stern on satellite and Orton on the bench, both are distinct possibilities.