Everything in this Blog is Completely True!!!

Be Prepared!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 00:17:00 +0000

Though some of you may not believe it, once upon a time, I was, in fact, a Boy Scout. And what is the Boy Scout Motto? Be Prepared! What was I not during a recent hike in the Alps? You guessed it. Prepared. That is how, I regret to say, the mountain beat me.

But perhaps I should start from beginning. Not long ago Amanda and I were on vacation in Germany and Austria with Rob and Sarah. During part of this trip we stayed in the Leutasch Valley in Austria, and we allocated one day for hiking.

For those of you who have never been to the Alps, they are extremely steep...much steeper than the Rockies. Having been glaciated several times over the last 5 or so million years, they have been carved with deep valleys. For this reason, I had assumed that the mountain tops would be relatively inaccessible to amateur hikers such as ourselves. Consequently, I was anticipating an easy hike around the scenic valley floor, before I returned to drinking beer.

Amanda and I's complete inventory of hiking supplies when we set out: One bottle of water, a camera, two pairs of sunglasses, and a map.

As a general rule, I try to avoid doing things I will regret. But here are a few items I regret not bringing (Pay attention because these will be important later): Several liters of water, food, hiking poles, and sunscreen.

But I digress...we started out on bright sunny Alpen morning on trail that passed by our Pension (That's a bed and breakfast in Germany and Austria). The trail led through a cow pasture and into the forest.

Oh what a nice Alpen stream! This hike is easy so far.

After crossing the stream we reached a cross roads with several trail markers. Rob, Sarah, Amanda, and I began to contemplate which way we should go. We had a map, but that told us little about the quality of the hike. About that time, a helpful local came hiking up the path. Somehow, he knew immediately that we were tourists. Perhaps, he was very perceptive because I can't image what about our appearance would have pegged us as tourists.

He asked us where we were planning on hiking and if we had any questions. I looked at the signs at the crossroads. One trail in particular caught my attention.
"How about the Gehrenspitze? Is it difficult?," I asked.
"Do you mean difficult or dangerous?," he replied.
"Dangerous"
"No, it's not dangerous. Children do it"

He then proceeded to describe the trail in great detail (quite accurately, in fact). It sounded like a good hike, and if children could do it...Gehrenspitze it was. We hung a left at the cross roads and headed up.

I should pause here to briefly describe the hike we were attempting. The Gehrenspitze is the mountain that loomed directly over our hotel. It's peak is 2367 meters high (that's a little under 8000 feet). Not a huge mountain, but not too shabby either. The valley floor from which our journey began was at about 1000 meters (approximately 3000 feet). So we were attempting a climb of around 5000 feet over the distance of 7 or so kilometers. Not too bad.

The first part of the ascent was very steep with many switchbacks and, at times, stair-like. The trail was largely covered with loose rocks and gravel, a surface, which, I commented to Rob, would likely cause us difficulty on the descent. (It did).

Anyone who has been hiking with me knows my penchant for running up the sides of mountains and regretting it later. This hike was no different and we soon noticed that Amanda and I kept getting far ahead of Rob and Sarah. At this point, Rob, who had remembered the Boy Scout motto broke out the walkie-talkies that he had "liberated" from the Diehls. Each couple took radio and off we went.

After an hour or so, we finally broke out of the tree line into an Alpen meadow.

As you can see, we had entered a long valley between the two peaks. The Gehrenspitze is on the left. My best guess is that the bottom of the valley (where we are standing in the picture) is about 4000+ feet. The far end of the valley (way off in the distance) was marked at 2048 meters (about 6600 feet). Looking back the way we came, we had already hiked quite a distance.

During the summer, the farmers graze cattle and horses in these high altitude meadows.

Onward we climbed. After hiking a few hours, we looked back to see our progress.

We had come quite a ways. But we were starting to get hungry and thirsty, and we had drank about half of our water. Also Rob and Sarah were somewhere behind us in the valley. But I don't see them...do you? We had read that there were numerous huts on the trails in the Alps that actually served food. We looked at our map and saw that there was hut at the end the valley on the ridgeline. We wondered if it served food, or at least had water. We looked ahead up the valley.

If you look very, very closely there is a tiny bump on the left side of the "V" shape made by the ridge line against the sky. That was the hut. We radioed Rob that were making for the hut to find out whether or not it had food and water. Rob replied that they were not going to hike to hut until we verified that there was food. Our job was to radio back what we found.

It turned out that they next part of the hike was perhaps the hardest of all. The trail became very narrow and climbed rapidly to the ridge with not a few obstacles. Along the way we caught up with the helpful Austrian who initially described the trail to us. He asked us where our friends were. "I don't know. Somewhere back there." I pointed to the valley below. "They are not afraid, are they?," he asked. "No", I replied, "just slow."

Finally, after a great effort, we reached the ridge line. I was very hungry and thirsty (Amanda seemed to be fine). There were quite a few people picnicking at the crossroads there (and yes, there were small children). Now about that hut. Oh, look there it is...

But there seem to be a lot of cows hanging out there. I guess we had better investigate...oh, no ...ATTACK COW.

It was heading right for us. It marched right up to me, and stared. "I think it wants food or something," I suggested to Amanda. I tried to communicate with it. "I don't have any food, cow," I said. I wasn't sure if it understood English or not, but most of the people around here seem to, so it was worth a shot. The reply was swift, "MOOOOOO!!!" It was not happy. It gave me a look of utter contempt and headed for a family picnicking on a blanket. The woman there started yelling "I don't have anything" in German. The now sullen cow gave up and moved on.

We hiked up to the hut, to investigate. It was just a cow hut! It was used for storing hay for the cows or something like that! So we now we have no food, no water, and another 1ooo+ feet to climb to the peak. We radio back to Rob. The hut is a bust. He responds that he and Sarah are going to head back to the hotel. I realize that there is no way I am going to complete the hike without water (I probably could have made it without the food, though). Amanda and I decide to hike on a little further to something akin to a sub-peak to get some pictures.

It was definitely worth it. Here are some of the pictures we got.

Some more cows (with a view) taunting us:
The peak of the Gehrenspitze...taunting me. The little dot on the narrow trail through the grass is a hiker:

Amanda, ready to continue the ascent to the peak, mocking our weakness:

Some of the peaks nearby with glaciers:

Looking back the way we came:

Sarah asked us to take 360 degree video from the top, which we did. I was going to post it on this blog entry, but I am having trouble uploading it. I may try again later, and add it as a separate post.

So, after taking in the view for awhile we began the long descent. On the way down, we ran into the entire horse herd.

Shortly after passing the heard, we overtook Rob and Sarah. We hiked with them for a little bit, but I was extremely thirsty and wanted to get back to the hotel and get some water...food, too. Amanda and I hiked ahead again. When left valley and returned to the steep trail through the trees. My fears were realized. The loose rocks and gravel were treacherous, especially for legs that were already tired from a full day's hike. We slipped and slid numerous times, and I think I came close to breaking my toe once. Man, I wish I had brought hiking poles!

After a brutal descent through the forest, we finally made back to the hotel, where all we had to eat was a block of cheese. But the faucet in the bathroom sink produced plenty of water. Last but not least, Amanda noticed that my neck was sunburned. If only we had brought sunscreen!

Eventually Rob and Sarah finally returned as well. Everyone was exhausted (except for Amanda). But that's okay, Austria has the perfect cure for exhaustion after a long hike...beer!

Tummy Time

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 23:52:00 +0000

Amanda says that the back of my head is getting flat. So now I have to do tummy time...It's so embarrassing.

Surviving in a Post-Trassie World

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Tue, 12 May 2009 02:06:00 +0000

Certain events in human history, while seemingly innocuous at the time of their occurrence, in retrospect, prove to be tipping points, triggering an inexorable sequence of events that change the world as we know it forever. Enter Stupid Shannon. Little is known about him. Cassie (the would-be authority) is nearly silent on the issue, and Traci will speak of him only in pejoratives. Regardless, his introduction has fractured a long-standing political alliance, the ramifications of which are only now becoming clear.

To understand the circumstances in which we find ourselves, we must look all the way back to the 2001 to 2002 time frame. At that time, a great migration was occurring. Recent graduates of UVa were leaving Charlottesville and settling in Washington, DC and the inner suburbs of Arlington and Fairfax. Life was good. From the restaurants of Reston to the bars of Clarendon, the locus of social existence was rooted firmly in the Fairfax-Arlington area. Of course Loudoun County existed back then, but it was a sparsely populated wasteland of farms and rustic villages.

At some point in this golden age, Rob and Mike met Trassie, hardly aware of the crucial role that Trassie would play in their future. At first, Trassie was believed to be a single person, but over time it was realized that Trassie was, in fact, two separate human beings locked in a symbiotic relationship. Traci provided all communication with the outside world while Cassie ensured that their clothes matched and memorized crucial steps in travel directions.

Shortly after this event, the great dispersion began. Amanda and I moved to Georgia. Some other people that Rob and Mike met and whose names I can't remember left as well. Dave went to live in the woods for six months and returned as a bearded and changed man. Now he is seldom seen. As part of Rob and Sarah's self-described plot to steal our identities, they too moved to Georgia. Mike and Sarah moved to Colorado for a year. The only constant through the great dispersion was Trassie.

Meanwhile, in Loudoun County, dark forces were rumbling. Weakness in the Fairfax-Arlington social scence provided the opportunity for Loudoun to sieze control of both the Halloween and New Year's parties. Partygoers from Fairfax and Arlington were forced to make a long and dangerous journey up the dreaded "Greenway." A rapid rise in the real estate market led to the Golden Circle, a ring of towns in Loudoun county so desirable that a decline in real estate prices became impossible. Coupled with a seemingly endless supply of craft beers and '80s movies, the dominance of Loudoun seemed complete.

When Mike and Sarah returned from their one year absence, they found their central position in the area social scene had been ursurped. It was then that they formed the Fairfax-Arlington Alliance with Trassie to serve as a counter-balance to Loudoun hegemony. They even went so far as to establish a rival New Year's party (leading to the great New Year's schism of 2007). When Amanda and I returned to Fairfax in 2008 following a four year absence, we found the situation desperate, but not hopeless.

Things were looking up. Rob and Sarah hoped to move back to the area within a year, and even Dave had been sighted once or twice. That's when the bottom fell out. Sarah decided that she needed to be closer to her step-mother and chose to bypass Washington (taking Rob with her) for points farther north. Then the event that shocked us all occurred. The one constant that we had all relied on finally failed us. Trassie announced that it was breaking up and moving to a far away and mysterious place called Kansas City. Why, you ask.

From what we know, Cassie was introduced to a person named Shannon. By all accounts (and by all, I mean Traci's), Shannon is a man of incomprehensible stupidity. It is rumored that he wears a helmet to prevent self-inflicted injury. But his ownership of two dogs proved irresistible to Cassie and signaled the death knell of Trassie. Trassie decided to split into two separate entities, Traci and Cassie, and live on opposite sides of Kansas City.

The imminent departure of Trassie has led to the dissolution of the Fairfax-Arlington Alliance. We are now but four. The dominance of Loudoun is complete. Amanda and I now feel that we have no choice but to consolidate our position with Mike and Sarah. To that end, we will be moving to Oakton in the near future, and we will begin construction on what we are calling the "Ark." There we may be safe for some time. Near permanent traffic congestion makes the approach to Oakton difficult even under the best of circumstances. We may even be able to hold out long enough for Rob and Sarah to return!

But perhaps I am being too optimistic. Rob and Sarah are moving to Syracuse, a veritable paradise second only to Rochester. They are never coming back. As darkness settles in around me, I cannot help but wonder, who is this man, this Stupid Shannon.

Apalling Behavior

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 00:47:00 +0000

Some very appalling behavior has recently come to my attention, and it has to stop...immediately. It seems that quite a few of my readers think it's funny to call Meghann's new baby Viper. Well, it's not funny. It's disrespectful. Do you want her child to grow up to be juvenile delinquent or something? I'm not sure who came up with this (though I'm pretty sure it was Cassie), but you should apologize. And just to head things off, you should NOT call her baby any of the following names: T-Bone, Popcorn, T-Pain, Lunchmeat, Dunclet, Chocolate Thunder, "Izzy's future husband," Aidan, Boxcar Dru, Small Fry, Dr. Dru, "He doesn't really look like you Duncan," or Craig.

Nostalgia

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:39:00 +0000

You know what I could really go for about now? A nuclear sub from Little John's Deli.

Work is Fun!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 15:36:00 +0000

Ever work 90+ hours in a week before? You guys should try it. It's fun!

New Directions

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 23:55:00 +0000

I've come to realize that in my blind pursuit of wealth, I have lost sight of what is really important in life. I have allowed work to consume me and cloud my judgment. In the process, I almost lost what I hold most dear. It is for that reason that I will be quitting my job so that I can focus on blogging full-time.

Don't worry about me, I can subsist on donations and ad revenue from blog. I also borrowed one of Mike D's credit cards. That should help, too. I look forward to regaling you with tales from my new life as a blogger. I'm sure that sitting in front of a computer all day will lead to countless adventures. Make sure you check back soon for my forthcoming post, "Quitting your job with style (and burning multiple bridges in the process!)"

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 23:40:00 +0000

Don't you just hate it when people go a long time without updating their blog?

Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 23:39:00 +0000

If you already own a Nintendo Wii, please stop reading here. If you don't...

HA! HA! I have a Wii and you don't! What a loser! What's that? You went to the store to look for one, but they didn't have any? Awww. Sucks for you.

The Wii is awesome because it allows me to participate in activities I would otherwise do outside but safe from the harmful effects of sunshine and fresh air. Even better it increases my sports productivity. When I play tennis outside on a "tennis court," I have to run around all over the place burning precious, precious calories. When I play Wii tennis, I only have to swing my arm at the right time. That significantly increases the number of games won vs calories expended ratio, a key measure of tennis efficiency.

So while you sad, sorry excuses for athletes are hot and exhausted playing volleyball in the blistering summer sun, I will be cool and relaxed in an air-conditioned room slamming home runs out of the park with merely the flick of my risk...What's that? No, you don't have to explain. It's okay to feel ashamed.

General Equilibrium

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 17:30:00 +0000

I'm not so sure about work. We had a customer come to us the other day. His requirements were a little ambiguous, so I offered to schedule an SRR in three months. That would give me some time to develop a rough architecture and perhaps even a working WBS and IMS. That's when my manager told me that we can't change what comes in the Chalupa. No special orders. The customer just has to pick something off the menu. Then he sent me in the back to clean out the deep fryer. I don't think I'm cut out to handle the high stress work environment that is Taco Bell.

So, I think maybe I'll quit my job. But what to do for money? I know, I'll work for Amanda. She can pay me to do the dishes. Of course, she doesn't have a job. Where will she get the money to pay me? I know, I can pay her to do the laundry! Things are starting to look up already!

Working Sucks.

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 00:46:00 +0000

...

Welcome to Virginia...Now go buy some salad!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 00:24:00 +0000

As my more astute readers may have already ascertained, I have left Georgia and returned to Virginia. Why you ask? Well first, I have to make clear that the rumors of a falling out between Usher and me are completely untrue and thus have no bearing on this relocation. We had a great time collaborating on his new album, "Here I stand." In fact, if you check out the liner notes, you'll find that he respected my anonymity by not thanking me. So things are going great.

And no, it had nothing to do with Rob's unforgivable betrayal (you know what you did, Rob, so don't act all shocked!). Instead, it really had more to do with getting kicked out by Georgia Tech. It seems that once you meet the requirements for completion of a degree, you are not allowed to collect your graduate research assistant stipend anymore. They just kick you out on the street, and oh, by the way, make a donation to the alumni association on the way out. With my plan to earn money without doing any real work in shambles, I was forced to seek "employment" at a "legitimate" company. Fortunately, my old employer, the Taco Bell on Elden St. in Herndon was willing to take me back.

So now I have returned to Virginia. Of course there was a great deal of fanfare. In fact, Mike D hosted a welcome back party for me at his home. Everyone was supposed to bring something to contribute. I asked Mike what he needed, and he asked me to pick up a few bags of pre-mixed salad. I was under the mistaken impression that this salad would be for eating. It turns out that the sole purpose of this salad was to accent the decor of his kitchen because that is where it remained for the duration of the party. I can't help but feel that this was a subtle but unmistakable message directed at me. "Welcome back to Virginia. Your taste in salad sucks!"

Apparently, Mike D is too good for the spring mix!! I guess a delightful mix of baby lettuce, endive, and mustard greens isn't up to his salad making standards. Well next time you can get the salad yourself because I won't be your lettuce bitch again.

Engaged Encounters

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Sun, 04 May 2008 20:08:00 +0000

It seems that my life is scheduled around weddings. At last count, I think I attend approximately three to four hundred a year. Given this frequency of weddings, I have borne witness to a number of engagements. Typically, the process works as follows (though not always in this order): the man goes out and buys an extremely expensive diamond ring, then he asks a woman (preferably one he knows) to marry him. If she accepts, she takes the ring as a pledge of his commitment.

How quaint...and blatantly sexist. The tradition of giving gold and jewels at the engagement dates to when women were viewed as helpless possessions and in need of a man's protection. The high cost means it's kind of like a deposit. You know like earnest money when you're buying a house. The American tradition of a diamond engagement ring that costs two to three months salary is largely a result of a marketing campaign by the diamond cartel DeBeers in an effort to boost diamond sales.

So given the advent of women's lib, it is bizarre that this tradition persists. Women are just as capable as backing out before, or seeking a divorce after the marriage. What ensures a man's security? How does he know his bride to be is serious about marriage? Since it seems unlikely that women will give up expensive engagement rings any time soon, it seems only fair that the women should give the man an equivalent gift as a pledge of her commitment.

In some, though still rare, cases the woman gives the man an engagement watch or ring. But this will never catch on. We men are practical creatures, and we have little use for jewels. Thus, I propose a new tradition, the engagement TV. What better way to celebrate the joy of marriage then with a Samsung 70" 1080p flat panel LCD HDTV? I'm sure you could it engraved with your initials or something sentimental like that.

I can just imagine it now. A darkened room, silhouettes on the wall, classical music playing, we see the shadow of a woman get down on one knee before a man. She opens the box, revealing the TV. In his joy he hugs her, a clear sign of acceptance. How else can three months salary last a lifetime?

I Think It's Time for Me to Leave

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 04:31:00 +0000

My time in Georgia is rapidly drawing to a close. My decision to leave was not made lightly, but it is most certainly mutual. I mean everything started out great, but eventually we grew apart. Finally, things turned nasty.

In the beginning Atlanta was new and exciting. Here it is common (and in fact encouraged) to drive 75 to 80 in a 55 zone. There were strip clubs on every corner, and housing prices were half of what they were in DC. But after awhile, it's the little things that get to you. Georgia tried to change me, and I didn't want to be changed. It told me I wasn't allowed to drink on Sunday and that accepting the overwhelming scientific evidence in favor of evolution has set me on a path straight toward Hell.

Even so, we were able to overlook our differences. After all, we were having a good time. Georgia only made me work four hours a day, and I paid Georgia taxes and quietly accepted that my state representative, state senator, and house representative are political extremists that run unopposed in every election.

But then I made the fatal mistake of talking about Georgia behind its back. I just needed to vent, and I only discussed our problems with people I trusted. Even so, word must have made it back because that's when the passive aggressive behavior began. And let me tell you that the first retaliatory act was a doozy. Last September, my favorite strip club, Girls-R-Fun, shut down (an event documented by Sarah). Now I will never get to go. I was saving it for my graduation celebration, but now that will never happen.

Things continued downhill from there. Not long afterwards, the only radio station I listened to shut down. Georgia was trying to tell me something. We tried to patch things up, but about then I started talking to my old state, Virginia, again. When Georgia found out, it went ballistic. GDOT closed the exit I use to get to work and eliminated a lane from the highway. At that point things were pretty much over. I told Georgia I was moving out. Fortunately, Virginia has agreed to take me back.

I'm looking forward to it. Really. Things are going to be different this time around. I won't complain at all about the long commutes and outrageous real estate prices...I'm screwed.

Dangerously Overeducated

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 18:06:00 +0000

As some of you might have heard, I successfully defended my doctoral dissertation about a month ago. Thank you. Thank you. I appreciate your your praise. Put down that middle finger, Mike D! As with any academic, I enjoy discussing my field of study at great length, and I would like to take this opportunity to tell you a little more about the school where I studied and the degree I obtained.

First, I cannot say enough about my school, Creme de la Creme. It has been voted the number one daycare/pre-school program in Atlanta. I have to say that moving all the way from Washington, D.C. just to attend this mecca of learning was definitely worth it. While at 29 years of age, I am considered a non-traditional aged student, I think I fit in quite well with my peers. I especially excelled at nap time and snack time. Sometimes some of the other students are so excited that they have trouble settling down for nap time, but that has never been a problem for me. Also, some get too full to finish their snacks. Rather than let perfectly good food go to waste, I am obligated to go through the trash can and finish off the leftovers.

You might want to know what I studied at Creme de la Creme. Well, my PhD will be in Lego building. I spent several years studying the structure and composition of Lego bricks as well as Lego design philosophy. Upon the completion of my formal coursework, I had to take a difficult examination in which I had to construct a puppy out of Legos in just 8 hours! After passing the exam, not only was I cleared to proceed with my dissertation work, but I also gained access to the regular sized Lego bricks (The large Duplo blocks can be quite limiting creatively). Despite my extensive training, there were still several choking incidents, but with time and experience I learned which Legos were safe to eat and which were choking hazards.

By the end of my third year, I was ready to propose my dissertation. It was entitled "An Analysis of the Structural Properties of Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene and its Application to Building Really Awesome Star Cruisers." The topic was a big hit with the faculty. As part of my research I built the really awesome star cruiser seen below.

I successfully defended about a month ago, and I have since been nominated for a best dissertation award for, and I quote, "the insightful recognition that it is really the properties that the polybutadiene lends to ABS that make it a viable material for use in children's toys," and for "being quite legible despite being written in Crayon."

I think my degree has throughly prepared me for my new career as a stay at home husband, and I encourage any of you out there that are also interested in this career field to consider pursuing your degree at Creme de la Creme.

This Blast's for You!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 14 Mar 2008 18:51:00 +0000

Today, I found a flier from my apartment complex stuck in my door. Its inent was to alert me to an upcoming event involving an improv comedy troupe. Improv comedy is all well and good, but that is not why I am telling you about this. What caught my attention was on the very bottom of the flier, and I quote, "Sign up for more email blasts about this and other resident events..."

Email "blasts"? How pathetic. I can't believe I have been calling them email "messages" all this time. I am such a loser. Screw messages! From now on I am only going to send email blasts. It's going to make my everyday conversations so much more edgy and dynamic. For example, "Hey Rob, did you get the email blast I sent you about the party this weekend?" But why confine it to a single part of speech? Nouns are for losers. Verbs are way more proactive. Like, "Let me blast that expense report to you as email attachment, sir." The possibilities are endless.

Like, from now on, I'm not going write blog posts, I am going to write blog blasts. In fact, I hope you really enjoyed this blog blast! Too cool!

Parsing the Polls

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 01:27:00 +0000

The presidential primaries can be exciting, yet confusing at the same time. The byzantine methods for assigning delegates and determining party nominees are bad enough, but there are also the sometimes incomprehensible analyses by pundits and experts. With the proper guidance, however, understanding election results can be easy and fun.

First, one has to understand exist polls. Exit polling involves interviewing a random sample of voters leaving the polling place. Exit polls do not just involve asking "who did you vote for?". Rather, they consider a wide range of demographic and ideologically based questions that allow experts to parse the polling data to determine why one candidate won and the others lost. This allows pundits to extrapolate and make predictions and candidates to adjust their campaign strategies.

To illustrate just how this works, let us consider Hillary Clinton's recent victories in Texas and Ohio. First, Texas. An analysis of the exit polls reveals that the deciding factor was Hillary Clinton's 4 to 1 margin of support in the turtle lover demographic. Most likely this was due to Clinton's long history of supporting keratin subsidies which turtles need to build strong, healthy shells. Interestingly, the trend totally reversed in Ohio where Obama won the turtle lover vote 3 to 1.

Now you might be confused here, but this too is easily explainable because Ohioans are strongly against NAFTA which has led to a marked rise in the export of US turtles to Mexico (Something Ohioans strongly oppose). So in the case of Ohio, Clinton's support of NAFTA clearly outweighed her support of keratin subsidies. Making more sense now?

Of course, you might wonder, if Obama won the turtle lover vote in Ohio, then why didn't he win the Ohio primary? Well, it turns out that turtle lovers make up a much smaller portion of voters in Ohio than in Texas. It seems that in Ohio, the majority of Democratic voters were uncomfortable with a candidate of mixed ancestry.

Now you might say, why didn't the exit polling in other states reveal these critical trends and make the Texas and Ohio contests a foregone conclusion? I will forgive your ignorance. Your still have a lot to learn!

This Explains So Much

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 01:04:00 +0000

This one is for Rob and Duncan.

FCC Okays Nudity On TV If It's Alyson Hannigan

Though, I can't say that I would mind this type of artistic programing.

And the Award Goes to...

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 00:37:00 +0000

Given the proliferation of awards shows from movies to music to video games, it seems like anyone can give out an award for just about anything. Thus, it seems only fair that I should be able to make my own movie awards list. My categories are a bit unorthodox, but I think they reveal some under recognized achievements in movie making. Here they are. Enjoy!

Best Air Guitar - Mike Myers and Dana Carvey, Wayne's World
Best Haircut - Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
Best Air Bite - Val Kilmer, Top Gun
Best Trench Run when it would have made more sense to fly directly to the thermal exhaust port - Star Wars
Best Tell-Off Line - "Nobody puts Baby in a corner", Patrick Swayze, Dirty Dancing
Best Care Bear Stare - Care Bears, The Movie
Best Movie Scene Illustrating an Economic Principle - Nicolas Cage buying oranges, City of Angels
Most Superfluous and Incomprehensible Oral Sex Scene in the History of Movie Making - Hugh Jackman receiving oral sex with a gun to his head while trying to hack into the Department of Defense, Swordfish
Filmmaker with the most creepy preoccupation with midgets - George Lucas, pretty much every movie he has made other than American Graffiti
Dumbest Movie about Genetics - Gattica
Most Boring Movie Ever Made - Santa Claus versus the Martians
Steamiest Soil Room Scene - Zoolander

And my personal favorite

Best Death Involving a Logging Truck - Meg Ryan, City of Angels

Hannah Miketana

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 01:20:00 +0000

Yesterday was Super Tuesday, and Georgia was one of the 24 states holding a primary. Now I like to hedge my bets, so I voted in both primaries. First, I went and voted in the Republican primary. Then, I put on a blond wig and voted in the Democratic primary. Who did I vote for you ask.? I voted for the same person in both primaries, Disney phenom Hannah Montana!

I think Hannah Montana is the perfect person to be our next president. The American presidency is a particularly challenging position given its dual role. The president serves as both the head of state and the chief executive. Many other nations divide this role. Thus, the American president must perform a delicate balancing act, and who better to accomplish than someone who is leading a double life. Miley Stewart is an average teen by day, but she is also secretly rock star Hannah Montana by night! It's the most outrageous thing since Jem!

Even more importantly, Hannah Montana is a uniter. When I voted in the Republican primary, I voted for Miley Stewart since she is the kind of family values candidate that would appeal to the Republican electorate. But for the Democratic primary, I voted for the rock star, Hannah Montana. Clearly, the outrageous liberal antics of a rock star are much more amenable to the Democratic philosophy on governing. Yet both of these persona are embodied in the same person! She is certainly a unifying political force to be reckoned with.

Now you might object that neither Miley Stewart or Hannah Montana were on the ballot in either primary. No problem I wrote them in. Now the electronic voting machine does not allow write-ins for primaries, but I brought my trusty magic marker. I simply crossed out Tom Tancredo and Chris Dodd and and wrote Miley Stewart and Hannah Montana respectively in their places. Problem solved.

Every Dark Cloud has a Silver Lining

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 01:02:00 +0000

Now being in drought definitely has its downside. I haven't been able to wash my car in a year, and I can't leave my shower running all day. But there is also a definite upside...no roaches. Now you might say sure, roaches are disgusting, but big deal. Well, if you are from points further north, I will excuse your ignorance. You are clearly not familiar with roaches in the deep South. In Georgia, the roaches are approximately the size of a small dog.

Now during the Summer, these roaches are perfectly content to live outside feasting on squirrels and small children. But usually every Fall when the weather starts to turn cold, they seek the shelter and warmth of my home. In the Fall of 2006, for example, I think we had one or two roaches a day in October and November. As you would imagine, roaches of this size can be quite a problem to get rid of. Spraying them with Raid seems to just piss them off. I recommend a shotgun blast at close range. It's a little messy, but it gets the job done.

But anyway, it just occurred to me that we only got one roach this fall. Clearly, this is a positive side effect of our near record breaking drought. But now what I am going to do with a entire closet full of buckshot?

Sarah is a Big Meanie!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 14:05:00 +0000

I'm sorry I can't write anything. I am crying too hard. Just look at the mean stuff she wrote about me.

Why Mike P is a jerkface

No good deed goes unpunished.

Winning at Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 13:54:00 +0000

Alright, everyone. Christmas is over, it's time to tally up the scores. Did you win? Here's how it works. Tally up the total market value of all of the presents you received for Christmas then subtract the total market value of all the presents you have given. If you get a positive number, then you had a net gain, and you won! Conversely, if you get a negative number, you're a loser. Don't be sad, there's always next year.

Winning at Christmas can be a challenging endeavor depending on your particular situation. If you are a loser, I have provided some tips to improve your chances of winning next year. As always, these suggestions must be adapted to the context in which you operate. Certain approaches may actually achieve the opposite effect depending upon the personalities of those in your present exchange network.

At first one might think that giving fewer or less valuable presents would be a good way to go. Rookie mistake. That might work out for a year or two, but over time people will reciprocate and your temporary gain will evaporate. Instead, try improve either your likability or try to generate sympathy/guilt.

On the likability side, here are some possible approaches:

Be nicer to people. Don't throw things at their pets/children.
If you talk too much, talk less. If you talk too little, talk more.
Try to do small, thoughtful things for others throughout the year.
Try not do drink so much.
Get plastic surgery.
Go to therapy.

The other approach is to make people feel sorry for you. The key is to generate sympathy because bad things that are outside of your control keep happening to you. If you just screw everything up yourself, you're just pathetic, not sympathetic.

Fake a robbery of your home.
Quit your job and take a lower-paying one so that you can spend more time with your kids.
Fake a debilitating but non-fatal disease.
Start a blog detailing the unfortunate nature of your life.
Develop an addiction to pain killers (note: every other drug falls into the pathetic category).
Tell everyone that your girlfriend or boyfriend that lives in another state died.
Go to graduate school.

Of course these lists are just suggestions. Be creative, and with a little effort you too can win at Christmas.

Crashed!

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 13:41:00 +0000

This past weekend was our annual Christmas party. All the regulars were there. We had Montell Jordan kicking it old school for us. Everything was going great...and then the Governor showed up...uninvited. He just burst through the door like he owned the place. He tried to be buddy buddy with all of my guests. Well, except Elton John that is. He stayed at least 30 feet from him at all times like he had a disease or something.

Everyone tried to ignore him, and for the next 30 minutes or so we were able to enjoy ourselves. But then the governor got into the eggnog. Not good. That's when the dancing began. I really didn't know that the human body could be placed in such painful looking contortions. Usher became ill and left. T-Boz wasn't far behind him. Things started to get really awkward when he tried to convince the unmarried guests to sign abstinence pledges. Finally, Jimmy Carter just walked up and punched him in the face. At that point, the party was pretty much over.

We had to call the state troopers to come recover the governor, and Amanda and I started to clean up as our guests filed out. Even worse, we discovered that the governor must have stepped in dog crap because he had tracked it all over our carpet.

We need to sort a few things out.

noreply@blogger.com (Mike P) — Sat, 08 Dec 2007 22:18:00 +0000

It's that time of year it again. It's the Christmas season with all of usual fanfare. And while trees, wreaths, ribbons, and lights are all certainly indicative of Christmas, there is one thing, above all else, that means that Christmas is really here...coin sorters. I was walking through several department stores today and found stacks upon stacks of coin sorters decorating the stores. "Ah ha!," you say, "Coin sorters are gifts, not decorations!" But I beg to differ. Do you own a coin sorter? Have you ever bought a coin sorter as a gift for anyone else? I didn't think so. No one has any practical use for coin sorter in his or her home. Yet every year, out they come. They are purely superfluous, the epitome of a decoration. Perhaps more importantly, however, they are deeply symbolic of Christmas.

Do you remember Jesus's parable of the two vending machine owners? One vending machine owner sorted and rolled the coins he collected from his vending machines by hand. While the other used a hand-cranked coin sorting machine (they didn't have electricity in ancient Jerusalem). The one using the soring machine had lower operating costs per vending machine and thus had a cost advantage on his competitor who rolled by hand. Eventually, he was able to price his competition out of business, and he had a monopoly on the vending machine market in Jerusalem. What does this parable teach us? Actually, I'm not really sure...maybe I should have stuck to the mustard seed one. I know that that one tells about how Jesus loved mustard. Anyway, Santa Claus gets involved at some point, and that's why the coin sorter represents Christmas.

So, next time you walk past a large stack of coin sorters while searching for last minute gifts on December 23, allow them to fill you with the Christmas spirit...but don't buy one. That's a terrible gift!