Disparate musings of one shafted by the TSA

Ok, so it took me a bit longer than a week. You guys oughta be used to it by now. In fact, you should check out my DeviantArt page- I was away for around nine MONTHS there. Yes, I'm the very definition of a lurker.

Obviously, a lot has happened in between, and I'd be hard-pressed to remember all of it. In fact, I can barely remember what I was doing before I logged in today. It's been a sleepy semester for me- went by very quickly, but at the same time it felt like it dragged on. Then again, that's how it usually feels, doesn't it? My friend is playing Yoshi's Island DS right beside me, and I hate him for it. With any luck, he will be stricken down by random act of nature, say, a stray piece of the ISS falls and knocks him out, freeing him of his DS duties so that I may abscond with the game. Yes, I said duties.

Oh, and about last time, I just wanted to mentioned that while perfectly understandable, there's a lot of pages that default to Spanish when I visit them, including Blogger. Everything computer-related just reads so very weird in Spanish- mostly because it seems to be written in European Spanish. American Spanish is to Spaniard Spanish what American English is to British English... That is to say, our Old World counterparts sound more... formal, even haughty... Which is funny, 'cause Spaniards are awesome at cursing people out.

I notice I'm veering off topic. Now I notice I have no topic whatsoever, so I'll look around the room for stuff to talk about- you know, for text padding. Ah! Mario Galaxy. You should play it- it's superb. So is Mario Strikers, for that matter- it's like Smash Bros. with a football in the middle. A real football, I mean- not a pigskin. I find it very hard to classify American Football as, well, football. Most of the time they're HOLDING the ball. They should call it American Handball. Or American Ovoid Brown Ball. Or Calvinball.

Speaking of ovoid balls, I am pretty much resigned to the fact that I am bound by a tenuous but resilient soul-link to people that like to speak up in theaters. Seriously, I can sit way up front in an empty theater, and the loudest person in the vicinity will sit right behind me. I mean, if only they made good jokes, but I've found the louder the person the lesser the wit. I'm sure there's some sort of math formula involved. You can tell when a loudmouth has negative wit- he'll start using the same joke over and over every 3 seconds, no matter what's on screen. He gets bonus points if he thinks nobody heard him so he repeats the joke, but louder.

And speaking of donkey shows, did you know that I need to get permission from the government to partake in flight training, all because I'm not a US Citizen? It's interesting how my 21 years of legal residency amount to a big, fat, ovoid zero. It's also interesting how I have to pay the TSA to run background checks on me. Oh, wait, it's not interesting- it's fucked up. EVERYBODY should get background checks, not just non-citizens. Just like you suspect me, you should suspect John J. Patriot from Austin, Texas.

TSA, what a bunch of PuDS.

But, I digress. Back on topic, I'm finding that drawing on MSPaint is unusually relaxing. Go fig.

Wait, that's not my topic... Ah, screw it, I'm gonna go draw.


1 comment:

Scott said...

I came across your blog randomly while searching for a vending machine graveyard. I was reminiscing about all the weird vending machines I used to see but no longer see anymore. Like the ones that vended glass coke bottles and you had to open/twist everything by hand, or the cigarette ones that were sitting around everywhere when I was a kid so underage kids could buy cigarettes at will.

Anyway, moving on from that tangent I have a related, but distinct rant to the "loud talkers sit next to me in movie theaters."

My problem is in self-seating restaurants. Every time I go one of those places, I get my food and we sit in some out of the way corner away from other people.

Next thing, chatty old women, obnoxious teens, etc., are sitting at the table closest and talking loudly and annoyingly. Or sometimes they don't talk and just listen to our (rather boring) conversation. It can be an empty restaurant with 20 other tables to choose from and they'll always sit next to me. Why? WHY?

Fortunately, I have people repellant when I ride on public transit such as BART. It's sorta nice having a little space.

Though I don't understand why people love to sit next to me when I'm eating, but not on transit. I must look more inviting when I'm eating. Weird.