John Furie Zacharias
having a bad day in a strange place
Thunderstorms Anywhere

Thunderstorms in the Imajica



 The different ways I don't like you 
 in a list that may never become organized
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Thursday, October 23, 2003
Bill Gates is a digital crack dealer




It's after 4:00am and I can't sleep. If I add up all the hours that I have sat bleary-eyed and exhausted in front of this damn monitor, or one just like it, I could have gestated in a elephant's womb, been dropped unceremoniously onto the dusty savannah in a pile of goo and joined the roaming herd of big game.

Part of my problem with insomnia is Bill Gates.  Why did he factory-load Solitaire into every one of his MS WinX OS's since day one?  Is he a digital crack dealer?  I've clicked away hours of my life playing Spider solitaire. 

It's a conspiracy reaching into the highest levels of government, crooked politicians, industrialists and so-called philanthropists.  I mean, they give little innocent school children free PCs at our public schools to expose them and get them hooked on Solitaire at such a vulnerable and tender age.

The Federal Trade Commision doesn't even know half of the truth.  Or more likely, they are part of the cover up of the true evil -- Solitaire.


Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Bowling for Columbine


Michael Moore

Michael Moore is one of those people that will spark up an opinion from just about anyone upon the mentioning of his name.  Since 1989 with Roger and Me, he has grown himself a reputation for controversy.  To me, Michael Moore's got the rep that Oliver Stone once had if only Stone had tried to interject some Monty Python sarcasm into a movie like Schindler's List.  At least, that's the feeling I get from some people when I talk about Bowling for Columbine.

Just exactly how many documentary comedies are exposed to the general public on average each year?  Hmmm.  Perhaps only one film per decade. Two films came from Michael Moore.

Personally, he reminds me an awful lot of my longtime friend, Dances With Stumps, whose real first name is also Michael, also from Michigan and a member of the NRA, except that I've never seen him carrying the video camera, too.

 


Tuesday, October 14, 2003
There's no free peeking at the Pelt Room, Pecker!




I just watched Pecker, written and directed by John Waters in 1998.  It stars Edward Furlong, as Pecker, and Christina Ricci as his girlfriend.

This movie made me laugh out loud each time I watched it.  I watched it several times this week so far.  I found myself discovering something new that cracked me up every time, having Pecker moments.

It a simple story of a man and his camera.  He takes pictures of anything in his everyday life around his blue collar neighborhood in Hampden, outside of Baltimore.  While showing his work at the sub shop where he works, a NYC gallery owner happens along, and a star is born.

The comedy of Pecker are the great characters in his family and how fame and celebrity can change your life (for better or worse).  The dialogue is delivered in small grand statements and it reminded me of the Wizard of Oz, in a way.

So, if you need a good laugh, buy or rent Pecker ... and look for some happy pubic hair near you some time soon.  Before you comment on the similarities of my matrix self-portrait at the top of the side panel and the video cover art, at least go watch the movie first.  Although, it wouldn't be the first time someone called me a Pecker.

 


Monday, October 13, 2003
NSLOG(); QOTD



I stumbled upon another blog that has a Question Of The Day.  Now, I feel that this is a cool idea ... unfortunately, I'm personally not that inquisitive on a daily basis.  I'm far too lazy to think of a new question for thunderstorms everyday.

Just in case you're staring at a blank sheet of paper or an empty text box and need some mental prompting to get your creative side crankin', here's the question:

What is your favorite peripheral?

I would have to say my favorite peripheral is the little Logitech Clicksmart 510 digital camera.  It's simple to use.  Turn it on. Take some pix.  Connect it to the USB port cable and press the glowing green button.  The software comes up, I hit OK several times, and the visuals of my so-called life are magically transferred to the PC.

Since I no longer have to keep slips of numbered paper receipts around and pay to have photos developed, I take way too many pix.  I've even taken a picture of vomit -- because I could.  I editted the photo in Paint, added some cactus, and voila: A desert landscape.

All that fun and the camera was free when I bought the Dell.  You can't ask for much more in a peripheral, or in life.


Monday, October 06, 2003
Fickle Chix - now comes in apple, berry and redneck



Fucking Fickle.  Say that three-times-fast.  Go ahead, it's fun.  Fuckin' fickle,  Fuckin' fickle,  Fuckin' fickle!

So I've been listening to a pretty cool set of tunes from Sublime's Sublime CD.  I got it from a friend.  I burned it and then had to look up just who the hell it was that played it.  The CD art was of little help.  It was just some cartoon that looked like someone pulled out the reader's response card out of an old Plop! comic book.

So fickle.  I drove around the corner to visit and talk with my new friend.  Her mom is waiting for her in the parking lot of her workplace.  I say "Hi!" and exchange pleasantries with her mom.  Five minutes earlier, my friend had just whispered conspiratorially to me that she wanted to stop by my place after work, burn a pinner, and BS over a couple of beers.  She is pissed off because the guy supposed to be at work at 9pm hasn't shown up for his shift yet.  He's 20 minutes late.  So, I get all happy thinking that my friend is going to hang out with me tonight.  I mean, she's very cute and fun to be with.

Then she changes her mind in three minutes and starts making excuses.  She's going to hang out with this John dude who lives on her street instead.  She needs to vent majorly and she likes to bitch and moan about life-in-general being a shit hole with him.  What the fuck?!  I'm feeling seriously shot down so I ask her, "What?  Don't you think I can handle a little venting?"  Oh, but he is having some problems with his squeeze too so he'll understand the whole "He/She is being a jerk to me conversation", I guess.  Puh-lease!  I came within a tiny pause in my mind-mouth mechanism from telling her to go to hell right then and there.

It's like, "Oh excuse me, I have to put you on hold because I have call-waiting and someone just beeped in who I'd rather talk to more than you".  How nice for me.

Hmmm. What to do, what to do?  Plan BMy other friend is planning on coming over Tuesday morning.
 
"Every married woman has a backdoor man" --
Louisiana Red

I think to myself: So, okay -- fine.  Just look forward to that scheduled rendezvous then.  I have plans to break in my newly grown goatee between her seriously yummy thighs anyway.  Sunny-side up. So try to be happy tonight.

Heh. And she just called.  "Resend that yummy .jpg of you by the pool again", she says.  No problem ;)

 


 
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