Charting Stuff

Correlation Between Ego and Singing
Ability of American Idol Contestants
(based on a scale of 0 to 10, 10 being higher)

Sweet. Cheap Booze.

Apparently scientists have discovered a way to cheaply convert organic materials to ethanol using bacteria. As you know, ethanol is the next wave of alternative fuels. This is an incredible discovery. Who would have thought that an organism could create ethanol?

I'll tell you who, the ancient Egyptians. Those guys were genius. Not only did they build the pyramids and those giant lion thingies, but they were some of the earliest people to brew beer. What does beer have to do with fuel?

I'll tell you what beer has to do with fuel. Beer is the wonderful product of a beautiful process called fermentation whereby yeast is used to convert organic materials into ethanol. Every alcoholic beverage you enjoy starts with these basic ingredients: organic material and yeast. Is yeast a bacteria?

What kind of question is that? Everyone knows that yeast is a eukaryote and bacteria are prokaryotes. But still, both are tiny organisms that digest organic material and give off ethanol as a waste product. Yes, ethanol is yeast pee.

I wonder why we didn't jump on this whole idea sooner. The scientists in the above article deserve credit for breeding bacteria that digest and convert the non-sugar part of the plants. That's something yeast can't do; yeast only converts sugars. Yeast is like a union worker. It does only one job and never tries to do any more. I digress.

I don't know what's so special about $1 per gallon ethanol. If it wasn't for the ridiculous taxes and communist distribution system in this state, you could buy $1 per gallon ethanol at the liquor store. It's called Monarch. Will I be able to go to the ethanol pump to refill my liquor bottles?

You know that ethanol is alcohol right? Yes, it's also called ethyl alcohol. And you know that the ethanol used to fuel cars is the same alcohol you use to drown your sorrows. If you drive a pure-ethanol-powered car and you're having a rough day, just siphon from your gas tank right into your flask. However, if you're feeling particularly bad you will not be able to commit suicide by inhaling the exhaust.

Don't get your hopes up. If $1/gallon ethanol becomes a reality, I'm sure the government will 1) tax the hell out of it so it is still $3.25 per gallon; 2) include some additive, like methanol, that will make you go blind if you drink it; and 3) leave it so the exhaust is nearly harmless. That's the government, taking all of the benefits and leaving only the burdens. Plus, if demand increases for corn products to produce ethanol it's only going encourage more farmers to grow corn instead of other crops, such as hops. This will cause beer prices to go up.

The moral of the ramble is, Egyptians thought of it first, the government will ruin it, and beer will be more expensive. I don't see a win-win-win solution here.

NERDS!!!

I saw a guy in the elevator the other day wearing a suit, a trench coat, and a very serious look. He looked like he was trying to be very professional. He was also wearing a black backpack. Is there anything less professional than a backpack? He looked like he just got done with his rounds peddling the Book of Mormon. A backpack? Seriously.

Reason why you should not go to law school.

Like minks on a mink farm, law students think they have it good. All they have to do is pass the bar exam and their dreams of a prestigious job and material riches will come true. Just like the poor minks on a mink farm, they couldn't be more wrong.

At a point in every mink's life its fate is determined. The mink that matures to a suitable size, with a uniform coat of soft, glossy fur is slaughtered and made into a fancy coat. The mink that is able to bide its time at the farm with a slightly flawed coat or at a fourth-tier mink farm will be "rescued" by PETA. By "rescue" I mean the mink will be released into the wild where it will die of starvation, dehydration, or exposure because its survival instincts were lost many generations ago in the breeding process.

Remarkably, recent bar exam passers follow much the same path. About half of them are chosen for their impressive credentials to work at law firms where they will be overworked, underpaid, and have an alcohol or drug problem within 5 years. The other half is released into the world with no new marketable job skills and paralyzed by debt.

"Mink Farm" is a good euphemism for law school. Really, nothing good can come of it.

I was doing some research today and I came across some sobering statistics that law schools don't want to share with you. I got pretty fired up about this and decided to dust off the Ol' blog.

You all know the reasons why I chose to go law school. They were all bad reasons. In fact, I don't believe I can give you a good reason to go to law school. What I can do is give you a good reason not to go to law school.

Seattle University School of Law graduates about 300 students per year. University of Washington graduates about 180 students per year. I couldn't find any info from Gonzaga Law School, but I'll guess they graduate about 180 students too. That is a total of about 660 new graduates each year. Additionally, law students from other states come to Washington for the opportunity to practice law in such a wonderful state. In 2007, 1032 people passed the Washington State Bar Exam.

Wow, 660 new graduates every year and 1032 new minks! That's a helluva lot of lawyers. Good thing there are lots of jobs right? Wrongo. Here are the stats.

In Washington State as of April 2007 there were only 159 job openings for lawyers.

The annual average demand in Washington State is low. The long-term annual average number of job openings is 476, and the short-term annual average is 505.

The average hourly wage is $43.10 per hour.

Demand in King County accounts for about half of the state-wide openings. The long-term annual average number of job openings is 259, and the short-term annual average is 297.

There is only about one job opening for every two minks that pass the bar. And the minks that do get a job are paid an average of $44 an hour. And don't forget, you'll have about $100,000 in debt.

If that sounds like a good deal to you, then I have an even better deal. Contact me directly for information on my Building Wealth Workshop where I will teach you everything you need to know about how to get rich with no money down and no law school degree.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should disclose that I found a job shortly after taking the bar exam that I actually enjoy. I was lucky. These results are not typical.

Where's My Emmy?

Apparently they're giving out Emmy awards to people for mere ideas these days. Al Gore won an Emmy for "Outstanding Creative Achievement in Interactive Television" for his "current.com" project.

Interesting. I went to current.com, and it doesn't exist yet. There is no interactive television there. None. However, there is some douche lobbying for viewers. But it still isn't interactive.

If the name of the award would have been "Potentially Outstanding Interactive Television blabity blabity" then I wouldn't care. But the very title of the award suggests that the award is given for an outstanding achievement. An outstanding achievement should be required to win the award. Al Gore hasn't achieved crap. I predict that his website will be a failure. His award should be contingent on his little project becoming an outstanding achievement.

I don't blame Al Gore though. I blame the voters.

Ok. I blame Al Gore...for bad Emmy Awards...and for global warming

Woah, look at that...

...this is the fourth blog post this month. I'm like a bad Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. I slowly ween you off the drink, but then you catch me having a few beers myself and you join in. Off the wagon you go...or on the wagon if it's being pulled by the Budweiser Clydesdales. Now you're going to be looking every minute, or every 2,880 minutes to see if I've updated the blog. Your excitement for a new post turns to disappointment when there's nothing new. It's just like that time your dad promised to take you fishing and he didn't show up. But instead of every summer you feel this disappointment every few days. Sorry.

In other news, I almost got run over by a bicyclist today. I had the green light and was in the crosswalk and the jackass almost ran right into me. I hate the crazy bikers around town. They are always passing cars on the right. I saw one biker pass an SUV on the right and the SUV had its blinker on and was turning right. The biker darted around the SUV as the SUV started its turn. The biker almost ran right into the broad side of the SUV. Hey bikers, stop being reckless.

What the hell channel is this?

It's Wednesday night and there's not a damned thing on. Not a damned thing on and I don't know what channel I'm watching. Generally you can tell what channel you're watching by the show that's on. Well, that luxury is long gone.

Today I watched this new show called "Singing Bee" on NBC. It's a stupid show where bad singers try to remember lyrics to random songs.

Today I watched this new show called "Don't Forget the Lyrics" on FOX. It's a stupid show with a lame title where bad singers try to remember lyrics to random songs.

What the hell? Why is FOX airing a show that has the exact same premise as the show on NBC? I think they are in cahoots.

I think FOX is in cahoots with all the other stations.

Have you seen that show where that beast of a British nanny goes into American suburbia to teach horrible parents how to control their bratty offspring? Yeah, I've seen that. What's the name of that show? Supernanny? Sounds familiar. Nanny911? Maybe. BOTH ARE CORRECT! SAME STUPID SHOW, DIFFERENT NAME!

Have you seen that show where that that mean or unappreciated husband or wife leaves their frightened or ungrateful family to see what life is like with some other family? Yeah, I've seen that. What's the name of that show? Wife Swap? Sounds familiar. Trading Spouses? Maybe. BOTH ARE CORRECT! SAME STUPID SHOW, DIFFERENT NAME!

The list goes on. Television networks are getting less creative and are making bad choices. The bitches. What do you expect from the type of people who would cancel a show like Veronica Mars.

Virtual Greenthumb

This is my dwarf avocado tree. I raised him from a wee pit. Pretty cool eh?

Here's a Tip: Don't steal article topics!

This yahoo at the Christian Science Monitor read my blog about tipping and wrote an article on the topic. The bastard didn't even give me a shout out. Lame.

The article was lame too, so I shouldn't have expected much.

I think we'll need to kick off the anti-tipping movement. Next time you see a tip cup, ask the clerk-person if they deserve a tip. If they can not give an articulable reason why they are entitled to the tip, then no tip is required.

Tipping - Part 2: Soupy's Revenge

I really pissed off Soupy, an apparent barista, who didn't like me challenging her unfounded expectation of gratuity. My response to her comment:

Betcherass I pocket my change. My rule is "Silver in the pocket, copper in the cup."

But you completely miss the point Soupy. When I go to a coffee shop, I go in intending to purchase a handcrafted latte. I'm paying $3.60 for the handcrafted latte, and you are obligated to make me a drinkable handcrafted latte at that price. Why should I have to pay more than the listed price?

And juggling numerous other drinks? Why I should pay you more because you have a lot of orders and I have to wait? My time is money Soupy because I bill by the hour, so every minute I'm stuck waiting for you to juggle drinks costs me about $2.90 in foregone billing time. This creates an opportunity for a barista to earn a tip. If the barista pushed my order ahead of all the others, I would tip her because she gave me more than the drink--she saved me time.

And I like your thinking on this one, "If it weren't for tips they would be making more money." I agree, so here's your solution: stop begging for tips with your crappy jar.

You still haven't given me a reason to pay more than the stated price for a latte when the barista does no more than deliver what I paid for. Sure, I may give you more money out of pity, just like I may give money to homeless people on the street. But you didn't earn it and I'm not obligated to give it.

This is one reason I like the Starbucks I frequent. They don't put a "Tip" line on the credit card slips AND they recognize me, greet me with a smile, and make my handcrafted lattes quickly.

Actually, Tipping is a City in China

I hate tipping. It's a ridiculous practice. Don't get me wrong, I understand the purpose behind it. Restaurant owners got together way back when and figured out how to pay their employees a shitty wage and get their patrons to pay more than the total on the bill to make up the difference. Wait-peoples went right along with it and here we are today. There is a rational basis to this system. Better service equals better tips.

But today, there is a tip line on every credit card slip and a tip jar next to every cash register. Everyone expects a tip for merely doing their job. I see two different types of scenarios. Only one is tippable.

Example A
I go to a restaurant. I am seated at a clean table. I am quickly greeted by a waitress. She's pretty, wearing a short skirt, and has a big smile...I digress. She takes my order, brings the food quickly. Checks back to see if I need anything, brings that something quickly. Asks if I would like another beer and brings my beer quickly. She doesn't spill it when setting it on the table. She promptly brings the bill. It is correct. We split it in some crazy way. She splits it perfectly and brings my credit card slip. Job well done waitress, you should be rewarded.

Example B.
I go to a "restaurant"/food stop. I walk up to a counter. I order off a board. My food is either presented to me where I ordered or at a separate station.

I do not tip in Example B situations. Why should I tip here? The board tells me the latte is $3.55. Give me a good reason why I should pay more than that. Some may defend tipping by saying that the Barista makes the latte for me. I agree, they are making it for me. That's why I'm paying $3.55 for a coffee. The benefit of the bargain is the latte. I appreciate your smile, but without more, NO TIP FOR YOU.

If you are confused about when to tip, you can try this two-prong test. This is the test I use.

First Prong: Do you tip at McDonalds?

If you tip at McDonalds, you are a dingbat. I'm not talking about putting spare change in the little charity box - that's not a tip. I'm talking about paying the register jockey extra for their services.

Second Prong: Did they provide any more service than McDonalds?

I'm not talking about nicer or quicker service. I'm talking about additional services. You have to consider whether they provided any more service than handing over the goods for which you paid. Starbucks and most other coffee shops do not provide any more services than McDonalds. I purchase a latte and they deliver a latte. No tip.

If that test is too complicated for you, you can use another test. This one is the counter test. If you order your food at a counter and pick up your food at a counter, then no tip is required.

My Free Time

Some of you may wonder what I do when I'm not working since I obviously don't write in my blog.

When I'm not working I yell at cripples.

I am Lazy. Hear Me Snore!

Necessity is the mother of invention. Necessity is also the fire under the ass of Lazies. Lazies are people who don't ever do anything until the very last second. That's me.

Some people call Lazies procrastinators. I thought for a long time that I was a procrastinator. I had all the telltale symptoms. I always choose to do fun things over work. I watch TV instead of do the dishes. I read blogs instead of assignments (when I had assignments). I twiddle my thumbs instead of entertain the masses via this blog. I always choose to do the easiest and most enjoyable activity at any given time unless it is absolutely necessary to do the work. I study right before an assignment is due (when I was in school), do dishes when I have no clean dishes, do laundry when I have no clean clothes, and write in the blog when I have to do dishes and laundry but still don't want to do dishes and laundry. Necessity is the key.

I thought I was the very model of a model major procrastinator. Thinking I was a procrastinator, and wanting to break myself of the procrastinator's habits, I purchased a book called "The Now Habit." This book claims to be a "strategic program for overcoming procrastination."

An Excerpt:
"People don't procrastinate just to be ornery or because they're irrational. They procrastinate because it makes sense, given how vulnerable they feel to criticism, failure, and their own perfectionism.

"If early training has caused you to associate work with pain and humiliation, then just approaching an intimidating or unpleasant task can bring on a reliving of criticism, not only from your current boss but from parents, previous bosses, and teachers. Every insecurity bubbles up to your consciousness as you think about working on some project you feel you're no good at. Pain, resentment, hurt, and fear of failure have become associated with certain kinds of tasks. When life seems to hold too many of these tasks it's as if you're driving with the brakes on; you've lost your motivation and doubt your own inner drive to get things done. At this point your self-criticism seems justified. You're likely to think of yourself as a chronic procrastinator--someone doomed to experience anxiety and self-reproach when faced with certain kinds of projects.

"Procrastination is not the cause of our problems with accomplishing tasks; it is an attempt to resolve a variety of underlying issues, including low self-esteem, perfectionism, fear of failure and of success, ineffective goal-setting and negative concepts about work and self."

Um, that's not me. I have high self-esteem and I like to think I'm close to perfect. I don't fear failure or success, I just know I can watch TV, surf the interweb, write in the blog, and still be successful in getting everything done when it needs to be done. I don't get around to setting goals, and as you can see, I only have positive concepts about work and self. Screw that procrastinator's pity party; I'm just lazy. Lazy and AWESOME!

Multiculturalism at its Finest

I was in the men's room of a bar the other night when a large black man entered. This Asian guy gave him a double take then patted him on the arm and said, "Hey Amigo!"

Amigo? I laughed.

HOLY CRAP!

It's been a long time since I've posted. I've been busy...at work. I'm officially a salaried associate at my firm. It's Awesome. To top it all off, I actually enjoy what I do. That's some sort of fancy-named trifecta right there. Employed, check. Permanently, check. Like job, check. I was only in the top 30% in law school, but those stats right there put me in the top 5% of my graduating class. I think I've only talked to one other person that was employed, permanently, who liked their job. Anyway, that's enough sunshine and lollypops. Lets get down to it.

I can't sleep. I haven't had a good nights sleep in about 3 years. Just before Christmas I purchased this fancy memory foam bed. It was great the first week, but then it kept getting softer and softer and I kept sinking further and further. Before I knew it, I could barely move in the damned thing. The sleep was horrible and I decided I'd rather sleep on the floor. So I did.

For a week I slept on the floor in a makeshift "bed" made of couch cushions and a foam camping pad. That sucked too, but at least it was better than the crappy foam bed.

Last weekend I finally got around to returning the foam bed to Costco. Costco is awesome. I thought I would have trouble returning a bed. Not at Costco. My brother and I just pulled up to the front of the store, grabbed one of those orange flat-beds, unloaded the mattress, and wheeled it on in to the customer service desk.

My brother and I then went to the mattress store down the road to replace the foamy one. I was surprised when I got there. They had many quality mattresses at prices that were much less than Sleep Country and Macy's, but not less than Costco I hopped on a few of them and assumed my sleeping position, but none of them felt right. I didn't buy a mattress there, but the sales person was nice, informative, and not pushy at all. So next time you're out mattress shopping, check your neighborhood mattress store.

I hit Sleep Country and Macy's the weekend before last with no luck. I did some serious mattress jumping over the last two weekends. It reminds me of my college years. But one thing I noticed was that every store had different model names for their Sealy Posturpedics. I asked the guy at the small store if that was just so consumers couldn't compare prices and he confirmed my suspicion. The mattress companies make sure no competitors within any region carry the same model name. Sealy doesn't make 50 different mattresses, so of course all the stores share most of the same mattresses.

I think this is a case for my friends at the Antitrust Division of the Attorney General's Office. If you look hard enough, you will clearly see the mattress companies defining their product very narrowly then only selling that specific product to certain retailers at the expense of consumers. There's got to be some sort of collusion or market segmentation, or some other antitrust buzz word that I forgot. Either way, it per se pisses me off.

So after visiting the little local shop, I hit the Costco Home Store. That place is awesome. I love that you can purchase furniture in two-packs. After jumping on a few mattresses and disuading a customer from buying a foamy one, I decided to buy the Sealy Posturpedic "Sterlingshire Firm." Unfortunately, they were out of stock.

I wasn't looking foward to another week on the floor, so I went to Target to purchase an air mattress for the week. I planned on returning it once I got the new mattress. I got it home, blew it up with the fancy included electric pump, and anticipated at least a decent night's sleep. But as I laid in bed, reading, the damned thing slowly deflated. Have you ever slept on a deflating mattress? I'd rather sleep on the floor. At least I won't feel so guilty returning a leaky mattress. (I wouldn't have felt guilty returning a non-leaky mattress).

At least I'm employed.

Quote of the Day

Bill the son of a bitches!

That is all.

The Good Ol Days

Well, the idea guy moved away, so now I have to find a new drinkin' buddy. Happy hour just isn't the same in my apartment. Today I picked up a box of cheesy bread sticks on the way home, and I enjoyed them with a 16oz Rainier. I was happy...for about an hour.

After dinner I looked forward to an evening of good tv. I shouldn't have set my sights so high. I should have looked forward to drinking more Rainier.

So this is the life of a workin' stiff.

When I was a kid we had satellite TV. I'm talking about the old 1986 NASA-talk-to-aliens style satellite. This sucker was about 15 feet across. Back then, there was always something good on TV, especially on the Playboy channel. It was fun watching naked chicks on TV, when my parents weren't home, when I was seven.

You think the parents would be arrested for that these days? I drank my dad's Rainier back then too, so all in all I think I've taken a step backward.

Drugs are Bad...mmm Kay

When I was in 6th grade I had the good fortune of attending a public school that forced the D.A.R.E. program down our throats. D.A.R.E. was awesome! DAAARE to keep kids of drugs...DA-A-A-RE TO JUST SAY NO! That stupid song is taking up space in my noggin. I also remember the definition of a drug, "Anything other than food that affects the way the mind or body works."

You know what's an awesome drug. Old-skool Nintendo. By old-skool, I mean circa 1985 old-skool. Hell Yeah!

For some reason I got a hankerin' to play a little old-skool NES, so I downloaded an emulator and a bunch of games. The internet is a wonderful thing. A few days later, I stole a USB controller from my brother. A few seconds later, I was taken back to a wonderful place. A place where I didn't have bills, a job, or even homework. I did have a nagging mother, and a dirty room...but some things never change.

I've been playing all my favorite games like Tecmo Bowl, Bases Loaded, Ice Hockey, and Mike Tyson's Punch Out. Yeah, the original, pre-rape conviction Punch Out complete with Mike and his gappy teeth.

I couldn't believe when I started playing how I remembered exactly how to play these games. I haven't played most of these games since about 1994 and I'm still awesome. I haven't played Punch Out since 1989. Damn, I'm old.

Anyway, that's where I've been the last few weeks. Playing Nintendo. I'll be back when I get bored or something really pisses me off.

Happy New Year

You goofy bastards.

Merry Christmas

You goofy bastards.

Multiculturalism Killed Santa

I saw a commercial the other day warning me about the hazards of holiday shopping and identity theft. No where is identity theft more prevalent than at the Nordstrom Santa Sweatshop. I walked by the other day and saw a black Santa. I thought, "Damn, I better be more careful. If Santa's identity can be stolen, then anyone's can." However, Mrs. Claus may not mind - you know what they say about black men and their penises.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against a black, asian, or hispanic Santa. But when we start changing Santa's color, the kids are going to catch on that they aren't the real Santa.

Santas of varying colors implies different Santas. There's only one real Santa Claus, so Santa can only be one color. You may ask how Santa seems to be in more than one mall/department store/parade at a time. Well duh. Santa is so freaking magical that he can go from one mall to the next lickity split. But Santa is not some crazy chamelion that can change colors, even if he is magic.

Having different colored Santas means there are more than one Santa, and the Santas that don't look like the Santa in the Coca-Cola commercials are not the real Santa. So parents, quit lying to your children and take them to the real Santa this Christmas.

Bad Karma for Lawyers

Ever since graduating from law school I've had three times the car-related incidents in the past few months that I've had in the last 11 years:

1) Three days after graduation, the Girlfriend and I were hit by a drunk driver. That was ultimately resolved by going through the pain in the ass of getting the car fixed, with the usual delays of course. The city prosecutor called me once to ask if I was willing to testify if they decided to take it that far. They didn't take it that far. She's probably out drinking and driving now.

2) Two weeks after being admitted to practice I was harrassed by the State Patrol. I got pulled over and I was given the drunk test. This was the first time I've ever been pulled over. They see me rollin'. They hatin'. Patrollin'. They trying to catch me ridin' dirty. Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty, tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty, tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty...No way they gonna catch me ridin' dirty. They were just out profilin' because I was certainly not changing lanes excessively. Word.

3) Last week I got hit by a car. I almost died.

Hopefully there won't be anymore disasters for a long long time.

And if you were curious, I only had one car-related incident before graduating from law school. It was a perfectly dry and sunny day and I was only driving a few miles to the nearby grocery. One minute I'm fiddling with my portable CD player, and the next minute I'm putting the family Lincoln Towncar into an irrigation ditch. The ditch was full of water, but luckily the car stayed dry thanks to this little Charlie Brown-like twig of a bush that was growing out of the side of the ditch. This little bush savior held the car up for a couple of hours before the tow truck arrived. The car, and I escaped unscathed. The damage was limited to a $100 towing bill. Apparently my luck ran out once I became a lawyer.

Blogger Got Run Over By a Yayhoo...

Walking home from work the other week
You may say there's no such thing as yayhoos
but in downtown Seattle you will see
I got hit by a car last Tuesday. Seriously. I was walking across the street and this car, that was stopped, decided to start going when I was right in front of it. I tried to get out of the way and "protect" myself by putting my hands on its hood, but he still got me. The bumper hit my knee as I got out of the way.

In my younger years I totally could have done one of those Karate Kid III: Attack of the Karate Chick jump on the hood moves. But I'm not so spry anymore. Now I'm a crotchety old fart.

Immediately after being struck by the vehicle I stood in the road and looked at the obviously negligent driver. He just looked back at me and shrugged his shoulders. I was unimpressed with the shrug and yelled at him to watch where the explitive he's going. Then he gunned it and sped off.

Unfortunately I was so pumped up from being attacked by a 2000 pound steel killing machine that I didn't notice I was injured. I knew the bumper struck my knee, but it didn't hurt at the time. It wasn't until 2 hours later that my knee started to ache. Later I learned my knee was broken in 11 places. No, not really broken, but the pain lingers to this day.

I hope the driver shat himself when he almost killed me.

HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY TO ME!

Happy Blogiversary to me
Happy Blogiversary to me
Happy Blogiversary to me
Happy Blogiversary to me
Oh, the Blogiversary. Yeah, that was yesterday. Thanks for all the emails from the people who remembered. Most of you forgot the Blogiversary. For the anniversary, the blog got a face lift. Did you even notice? I didn't think so.

The amazing thing about the blogiversary is the fact that some of you have been reading for an entire year. I'm impressed that I could keep anyone's attention, every day, for an entire year. It's true, you can fool some of the people all of the time, and I fooled the 8 dedicated readers into thinking this place was entertaining. I don't know exactly how I did it, but I would have jumped ship over to a good blog long long ago.

I think the most appropriate way to celebrate the blogiversary is to remember some of the more memorable posts in, "Virtual Junk Drawer: A Year in Review."

Visit the new and improved Junk Drawer Archive to your right.

What, you didn't think I was going to go through and pick out the good ones did you? You say they're all good? Right answer.

I Need Some Advice

Dear Abby,
How do I get better readers who will make clever remarks about me consistently misspelling "advice" as "advise."

Sincerely,
Eddie McStiff


Dear Eddie,
Poor spelling is certainly not blosome. You should be more careful. Also, you should not expect your readers to be as clever as you. Sure, they probably caught the mistake, but because most of them are lawyers, they have no sense of humor left. Lawyers often lose their sense of humor early in law school because most law students will have a professor, or five, that is a complete dildo. Kudos to you Eddie for maintaining your sense of humor even if you forgot how to spell in the meantime.

Sincerely,
Dear Abby

It's true, I'm Blosome

There have been a few questions about the recent coining of the word "Blosome," and I want to set the record straight. All my readers witnessed the coining of the word "blosome" right before their very eyes. I accidentally put the words "blog" and "awesome" together and it was love at first site. TomKat and Brangelina, meet Blosome.

Holy Craaaaaap!

this blog has gotten lame. I think there's a general downturn in blog productivity these days. Blog recession. You can't expect me to be awesome on the blog every day. Granted, I am pretty damned awesome every day, but it is tough to translate general walkin' around awesome into blog awesome...or blosome. Blossom Woah! I like my strawberry milk. Woah.

Anyway, all my faithful readers, back down to 8 of you, ask me to update. But I don't have a funny switch. I can't just turn it on and off. Shoot, if I could, I'd probably never turn it off. The other thing is that I have a really bad memory. So I'll see something funny and worth bloggin about, but then I'll forget about it. I've discussed a number of blosome posts with the Idea Guy, but I never follow through.

One thing I wanted to offer my readers was some free advice. This is official legal advise, and as such, it must come with a whole load of disclaimers. Offering this advise is not an agreement of representation. I owe no duty and am not your lawyer until you sign an agreement and pay my retainer ($5,000). You may not rely on this advise to avoid penalties imposed by the IRS. Then there's something else about me not being responsible for you going to jail. Crap, it's way too complicated to give out free advise. I can tell you this though, and you can rely on it. It's probably not a good idea to take legal advise from a blog. Even if it is blosome legal advise.

Now just to make up for lost time I think I'll give you some highlights about my week. I ordered a fancy memory foam mattress from Costco. It should be here Tuesday. More to come. The rest of the week I went to work, billed hours, and came home. Times five. It may not be blosome, but it gives me some walkin' around money

I've Never...

been pulled over for DUI...until tonight.

So I have an enjoyable evening at The Girlfriend's office Christmas party. I have one beer early in the evening. I enjoy myself with good food and conversation. Two and a half hours later we decide to leave.

I'm driving along on I-90 and it's a little foggy, so I'm not driving too agressively. I'm in the middle lane and there's an SUV in front of me. For some reason, the SUV was going 15 under the speed limit and they kept hitting their brakes when there were no cars in front of them. So I pass the SUV. And I use my blinker.

I continue along at the speed limit, give or take a couple MPH, and I come upon another slow-driving, break-hitting yayhoo. So I pass that yayhoo too, and of course, I use my blinker.

A few seconds later I notice the fuzz in my rear view mirror. Then about 30 seconds later the lights start flashing. I of course didn't pull over right away. If you pull over immediately when the lights start flashing then you're admitting guilt of some sort. So I drove along until the cop started flashing his headlights. Damn. He wanted me.

I found a safe place to pull over and did so carefully, again using my blinker. The cop came up to my window and gave it the cop-knock. He asked for my ID and I thought about including my bar card with my driver's license, but I figured that would make it worse. I think they get bonus points when they arrest lawyers.

The cop looked pretty young, maybe about 26. He invited me out of the car and into the ass-cold, sub-freezing weather for a "voluntary" field sobriety test. I asked what would happen if I declined to take the field sobriety test and he said he would arrest me for DUI. I knew declining wouldn't be enough for an arrest, but I didn't want the hassel. So I played his little games.

I followed his pen with my eyes, I walked the heel-to-toe line, and I stood on one foot. Again, it was ass-cold and I was shaking like a suminabitch out there.

Then he asked me if I would like to take a "voluntary" breathalizer test. I again asked what would happen if I declined to take the breathalizer and he again said he would arrest me for DUI. This part is tricky because if you decline a field breathalizer test they can take you to the station to have you blow on some other machine. Of course, I didn't want the hassel, so I blew on his little machine.

After the blow-test the officer continued to grill me whether I had any more to drink, whether I was taking any medication, and whether I was intoxicated on any other drugs. I replied, "No sir," to each question. At that point the officer told me I could get back in my car. I took that opportunity to ask the officer what my alcohol level was. He said, in a disappointed voice, "You blew zero."

I got back into the car and he returned my driver's license and said, "I'm giving you a warning for excessively changing lanes, even though you used your blinker." Translation: I was bored and I'm a new cop trying to meet his quota in the first week of the month.

When I got home I called my cop-buddy and told him what happened. He laughed and advised me to never ever ever do the field sobriety exercises because they are designed to trip you up. He advised me to only do the field blow test in the future. I never learned about this stuff in law school; maybe I should have taken criminal procedure.

It's pretty scary to get pulled over by a cop because he thinks you're a drunk driver. Good thing I got lots of lawyer friends.

Damn You Winter!....Damn You.

Thanks Winter. I appreciate what you did for me today. Thanks for making me slip and fall on my ass. I didn't slip on ice, slush, or snow. The ice is pretty much all gone along my standard walking paths. No, this year you got a little more clever. Hell, I keep my balance on all the ice, so you make me slip on a patch of salt. You tried to cover up your evil tricks and make me want to blame someone else. But I know better. You can't fool me Winter.

Here's a little lesson for the future. It's called "but for" causation. But for you not making it ass-cold and icy, there would be no need to cover the sidewalks in salt. No ice, no salt. The verdict is in Winter, and they find you liable. Bitch.

Frizlefrack I hate Snow

Let the winter hatefest continue. Today it snowed in Seattle. It dusted the city a bit last night, but today it snowed enough to make the sidewalks pretty slushy. Thanks to the snow I had to walk home from work. Traffic is always bad in Seattle, but it's much much worse when it snows. It gets this way for 2 reasons: 1) Seattle drivers aren't used to driving in snow/slush and don't know what they are doing, and 2) Seattle drivers are incredibly impatient and really stupid.

When I got to the bus stop today at about 6:00pm I heard someone say the bus wasn't going to be coming because they had to chain it up. Seeing that traffic was moving very slowly (about 1 car per light thanks to all the people blocking the intersections) and after consulting with The Girlfriend (who drives home and said traffic was awful) I decided to walk home.

It was ass cold and I was pelted with ice the whole way. I hate winter.

In addition, all the fancy new parking meter machines were covered in snow. They are all solar powered. Does anyone know if they have a backup power source or will downtown have a parking meter crisis next?

Things I Hate: Part Winter

I HATE WINTER! I hate it. There is nothing good about it. I hate snow, I hate rain, I hate the cold, I hate the wind, and most of all I hate it getting dark at 3:45 in the afternoon. You yayhoos that are going to say, "Well, actually, it's still Fall" can keep quiet. For all intensive purposes when it's dark, rainy, and ass cold, it's winter.

But because I'm the type of person who always looks on the bright side and doesn't ever complain, here are a few of the things I love about winter.

#3 - Puddles along the sidewalk.
There's always a character in a commercial or TV show that is having a bad day who gets splashed by a passing car while waiting to cross the street. The splash usually the icing on the calamity cake. A few weeks ago we had some nasty rain and I was waiting to cross the street to my building. Because the storm drain was clogged with leaves, there was a huge puddle right in front of me. While I waited, an SUV sped right for the puddle. Luckily I was quick enough to hop back and the plash missed me. It was a really cool splash though, about 4 feet tall. A couple days later we had another storm and there was another puddle. This time I kept my distance, but three other people were standing right on the edge of the sidewalk and right on the edge of the puddle. I started cheering for the oncoming SUV to run right through the puddle and splash the hell out of the innocent bystanders. Unfortunately, the SUV changed lanes and missed the puddle. The bystanders were spared.

#2 - Inside-Out Umbrellas.
Watching someone being dragged behind their inside-out umbrella on a stormy day is inherently funny.

#1 - Wearing Sweaters.
I never wore sweaters until I had to start dressing up for work. Now that I'm employed (thank god for good connections because my resume isn't that great) I have to wear business-casual attire. That means a crisp dress shirt. But not in the winter. In the winter I pick out any one of a bunch of wrinkled blue shirts and throw on a sweater. It's awesome.