Thursday, July 01, 2010

Blank Stares and Blank Pages at Wordpress...

Hey y'all-

Just a heads up that as of July 1, 2010, I've decided to stop double-posting all of my stuff, it's just become too much of a pain and it splinters my readership.

As such, my material will no longer be appearing here on Blogger, but rather only on Wordpress.

So if you'd like to continue reading my stuff, please switch any bookmarks you have so that they head to "Blank Stares and Blank Pages" on Wordpress.



Saturday, June 19, 2010

Silver Lining

Earlier this year, I laid out some goals for 2010 and as the year (which is more than half over already, WTF?!) has continued, I’ve added some other goals.

One of the bigger ones has been to find a “silver lining” in situations that might otherwise be, um, shitty.

For example, I’m currently in the midst of a big punch in the balls courtesy of writer’s block, but the silver lining is that I’ve gotten really, really, really, really good at searching YouTube for obscure movie clips and/or wrestling matches from the mid-to-late ‘90s…so that’s something.

Anyway, to further illustrate the importance of finding a “silver lining” in situations, here are a couple of examples of two situations made drastically less sucky thanks to a “silver lining.”

Example One: No Silver Lining

Example One: Silver Lining

Example Two: No Silver Lining

Example Two: Silver Lining

…see, everything is W-A-Y better with a silver lining.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to return to my regularly scheduled writer’s block and get back to YouTube.

I’m currently watching all of R. Kelly’s hip-hoperaTrapped in the Closet”…silver lining…I hate R. Kelly more than I hate myself right now.

So that’s something.


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Sunday, June 06, 2010

Jeremiah vs Writer’s Block

My Faithful Readers, I’m addressing you today to let you know that despite what you may think, I am not dead.

In fact, aside from a lingering sore throat and the usual knee and back pain, I am in good health and good spirits.

Unfortunately, however, I am suffering from a nasty case of writer’s block.

This happened to me late last summer as well and after a few months’ time I pulled out of it and wrote my tail off…until this bout-o-the block hit me and hit me hard.

For anyone who has never experienced writer’s block, I’ve skillfully drawn up (read: crudely made sorta-shapes) to show you what my latest encounter with writer’s block has been like.

UPDATE: Apparently Blogger is unwilling to let me post my finely-crafted rendition of my battle with Writer's Block. As such, click HERE and head over to the official "Blank Stares and Blank Pages" at WordPress to peep the comic.

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Monday, May 24, 2010

In Defense of Facebook: Privacy Issues

Note: For a less—um—ranty take on the Facebook privacy issues, check out friend of the blog, “The Miller Times.”

The hoopla surrounding Facebook’s latest privacy gaffe is getting absolutely ridiculous.

People are organizing a “Quit Facebook Day” and a “Facebook Protest Day.”

Listen up folks, Facebook isn’t the problem.

You are.

If you don’t want the entire world to know that you just love the crap outta “Real Housewives of Atlanta” or every Nicholas Sparks book ever written, you should probably never, ever, ever, EVER put it online.

If we’ve learned anything in the last 15 years of ridiculous web-growth it’s that anything you put online is out there and it’s out there for good.

More than ten years ago I called in—note: CALLED in—to USA Weekend to ask a question about Jennifer Love Hewitt.

Even though they totally butchered my question to involve Jennifer Lopez and the word “sizzled”...that question is still out there on the interwebs.

That’s right, something more than a decade old and something that originated over the phone and in print is available online. So do you honestly think the things you punch in online aren’t going to haunt you?

Seriously folks, if you're on Facebook and you have more than 100 friends, you've signed away your privacy.

Let’s be real here, you don’t have 100 friends. No one does.

Odds are pretty good that if you went through and deleted everyone that you don’t really talk to and/or care about, you’d be down to about 20-30 people, at the most.

That goes double for all of you half-naked blonde co-eds who have 3,000 friends; your privacy argument is out the window.

Dang near everyone on Facebook is friends with complete strangers who can see all of their favorite bands and television shows and pictures of them wasted on Jagbombs.

Anyone of those “friends” could just as easily be taking all of your oh-so-private information and selling it to the highest bidder, yet no one seems to be concerned enough to go through and wipe out their friends list.

Seriously, go through your friends and try to find someone with less than 100 friends.

On the off-chance you actually found someone who fits the bill, odds are pretty good that they’re either a Facebook newbie or someone’s mom who has yet to figure out how to find “friends.”

It is 2010, everyone has a Facebook page, a blog, a Twitter account, a million online profiles at Yahoo!/MSN/Google/etc. and who knows how many other online entities telling the world all about themselves.

We live in the vainest of times, everyone—whether they know it or not—wants to be an online star.

This is why we all spend ten minutes trying to come up with a witty status update or pose every time a digital camera pops out thinking “this is gonna be a great profile picture!”

Privacy is dead and gone.

If you really want privacy, you’re not on Facebook. You’re not reading this blog. You aren’t on the internet at all.

People who really want privacy don’t talk about how their privacy is being invaded because they’re living in the remote foothills of Kentucky or up in the mountains in Idaho.

Unless you’re ready to live in a cabin and eat raccoon—and/or move to northwest Iowa and hang out with my parents—it’s time you buck up and deal with things the way they are.

If you don’t go around posting everything you like on Facebook, then there’s nothing for the website to share with anyone, let alone those big bad advertisers who you can—you know—ignore.

You control your privacy, not Facebook.

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Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Productivity Killer, Thy Name is “I Saw You MIT”

The huge nerds fine folks here at MIT are known for their creativity.

Whether hacking the ‘Great Dome’ or doing their damndest to rip-off casinos in Las Vegas, the students always seem to be coming up with something to help stave off the stress of—well—going to MIT.

In the last 24 hours, my co-workers and I have discovered a new marvel brought to the world by MIT students, the incomparable I Saw You MIT.

Essentially, this is the same concept as the wildly popular “Missed Connections” section of Craigslist that gives people—usually hopeless romantics and/or simply the hopeless—a chance to toss out a vague message and hope that someone (anyone) responds.

This almost always leads to a confusing thread of replies where some stranger who also happened to live in Alabama and also wore a tie one day last week when it was raining assumes that the post is all about them. It rarely is.

Initials, shirt colors, specific train stops and other completely random facts are then exchanged in an attempt to figure out if either party is actually talking about the other.

In the end, very few of these posts result in anything more than a few chuckles for the large audience of addicted readers and another missed connection.

Beyond the awkward attempts to forge a love connection, there are also the equally entertaining rants that often appear in these sections.

Say for instance some dude farts in an elevator at a busy mall. There’s a pretty good chance that before the day is out someone will work their way to Craigslist and write a scathing rant about the “smelly wildebeest who had the audacity to unleash his foul halibut and old-milk scented odor on the unsuspecting people of the Pine Bluffs Mega-Shop-O-Plex”….or something like that.

Anyway, you get the gist.

Now MIT has its very own version of “Missed Connections.” This means that the odds of being mentioned, knowing someone who is mentioned, and/or at least loosely recognizing someone mentioned are pretty freakin’ high.

This creates a whole new form of entertainment for all of us here at work who have undoubtedly gone through checking for all things “Barker,” “Hayden,” “Library,” “Reading Room,” etc…etc…etc…

We’ve already stumbled upon at least one post that we’re like 98% positive references a co-worker who apparently resembles a pirate.

There are a few others that are just vague enough that they may be about other library peeps and/or they might just be about our patrons.

Either way, productivity here has been pretty much shot as we’ve spent most of our day reading ridiculous post after ridiculous post and giggling madly, thanks MIT, you’re the best.
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Monday, May 10, 2010

Cheeseburger Chronicles #055 & #056

I know, I know, I know…

I’ve been trying to reduce the amount of Wendy’s I toss in my face, but I really couldn’t resist.

I hadn’t really eaten all day and was at softball practice for like three hours. I was tired and hungry and on my way to have an adult beverage or two. Without some food in my belly I’d undoubtedly turn into Blackout Gravey…and the world doesn’t need any more of that than it already has to deal with, as such, Wendy’s was a solid choice.

Cheeseburgers #055 & #056

What: Junior Bacon Cheeseburger

Where: Ghetto Wendy’s

When: May 9, 2010

How (was it): They were about as good as anything at Wendy’s that costs a buck can be.

They were hot, the toppings were all crispy and good, and they totally spaced on the tomato, which was great because I wasn’t really feelin’ tomatoes yesterday anyway.

In the end, the burgers did what they were supposed to do, pad my stum-stum and keep me from either vomiting because I was starving and/or keep me from getting wastey-faced after one beer.
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Cheeseburger Chronicles #054

Okay, if I thought going to Four Burgers within two days of my previous visit was a little embarrassing than this visit was downright ridiculous.

Barely 24 hours after my previous trip to Four Burgers, I returned after a few adult beverages at the infamous Muddy Charles Pub with Dan and Shayna – two kick-ass work peeps of mine – along for the ride.

Once again, Four Burgers did not disappoint.

Cheeseburger #054

What: Cheeseburger

Where: Four Burgers

When: April 30, 2010

How (was it): Bad-to-the-Ass!!

Although it is hard to tell from my crappy-ass cell phone camera, it was another wonderful burger.

Once again I implemented the razzle-dazzle technique of ordering a “medium rare” burger to ensure that it was cooked to a perfect “medium” and once again it worked to perfection.

After a few beers, there really is nothing better than a cheeseburger and there is nothing better than a Four Burgers cheeseburger. All-in-all, that’s a pretty solid situation right there.

Additionally, Shayna hooked me up with a nibble of her veggie burger. It tasted mostly like falafel, but it wasn’t all bad. I don’t foresee me ordering one (ever), but it’s good to know that even the weird non-meaty stuff can be pretty bad-ass too.

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Cheeseburger Chronicles #053

I’m not going to lie, this is a tad embarrassing considering that I’d gone to Four Burgers not more than two days earlier, but let’s be honest some days a dude just needs to have a cheeseburger for lunch, right?!


Cheeseburger #053

What: Cheeseburger

Where: Four Burgers

When: April 29, 2010

How (was it): Delicious.

Having deduced on my last journey to Four Burgers that it was in my best interest to order things “medium rare” to get what equates to a “medium” everywhere else in the world, I was blessed with a perfectly cooked “medium” burger.

It was hot and juicy and jam-packed with a veritable butt-load of flavor.

Additionally, the fries were super-duper bad-ass. Can’t argue with that, right?!


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KFC Double Down: Meh

The KFC Double Down has been the recipient of many a headline in recent weeks.

It has been lauded as the greatest thing to happen to chicken since buffalo sauce and it’s been derided as the worst thing to happen to food since – um – everything on the This Is Why You’re Fat website.

Friend of the blog, “The Miller Times” took on the bunless terror a while back and today it’s my turn.

Being that I’m – well – a fatty, I had no choice but to attack this seemingly decedent treat guns-a-blazin’…and I did just that a mere two weeks ago (obviously, I’m a little slow at keeping up on my blogging lately).

It was laundry day.

Anyone who has stopped by here a time or two is well-aware that I f’n hate laundry day with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. Not because doing laundry is any sort of agonizing process or anything, but rather because I have to travel to do laundry.

This infuriates me. If laundry were right near my place, I wouldn’t care in the slightest and I’d probably have clean clothes far more frequently.

Anyway, I seem to have gotten off track here, where was I?!

Ah yes…it was laundry day.

Every laundry day, I treat myself to a stop the vaunted KFC/Taco Bell hybrid near the Lost Sock Laundromat.

This generally works out pretty well because in the time it takes me to hike it up the block, order my food, wait and wait and wait for my food and eventually eat me food and get back to the laundromat, the wash cycle is usually finished.

This seemed like the prime opportunity to sample the Double Down. So I sauntered to the counter, full of the swagger that only a man who eschews buns in favor of more dead animal flesh can muster and placed my order.

The gal behind the counter looked as though every asshole male between the age of 10 and 30 who had come in with the same douchey-swagger and order for the better part of two weeks, but she hooked me up with the Double Down nonetheless.

As anticipated – service is a tad, um, sluggish here – the food took about ten minutes, but once it arrived I was on it like a pack of ravenous hyenas on a three legged elk. I tore the “sandwich” from the bag and shoved it in my face.

I then took a minute, or two, or three…as I tried chewing and swallowing the gigantic mass of chicken breast in my mouth.

“Gee…that just tastes like a fried chicken breast,” I thought to myself as I finally – with the aid of an entire glass of watered down Mt. Dew – finished off the first bite.

I took another and another and every time it was the same situation. All I could taste was chicken breast. After my third bite I finally peeled apart the two layers to see what the inner-workings really had going for ‘em and it wasn’t much.

There were two virtually non-existent slices of cheese, some bacon and whatever the hell the Colonel’s secret sauce is. Personally, I think if he’s a legit Colonel, then we can go ahead and invoke the don’t ask, don’t tell policy in regard to the sauce.

Sauce of sketchy origin notwithstanding, it was still a very un-awesome experience.

I eventually choked the whole thing down, feeling disappointed in both KFC and the choices I was making with my life and I slowly meandered back to my laundry.

All-in-all, it was a less-than-inspiring dining option and I can’t say that I’d recommend it to anyone.

For all the hype and hoopla surrounding the Double Down, I was anticipating some sort of dining experience that would change my life forever.

Instead, I got two big pieces of chicken and some stuff in the middle that I couldn’t even taste.

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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Cheeseburger Chronicles #052 (and Mindless Rambling)

I hate when I waste time.

Don’t get me wrong here, I’ve got no issues with “relaxing” and/or simply enjoying some downtime, but when I’ve got things I want to do (ie: blogging/other writing/reading/etc.) nothing irks me more than realizing I’ve wasted half an hour trapped in the Wikipedia or YouTube-vortexes of doom.

Making matters worse is that I’m currently in the middle of day three of a very rare three day weekend. Since Mondays are my Sunday and most paid-holidays are on Mondays—and I work a bunch of these for the bling-bling—I’m pretty sure I’ve had more one-day weekends than three-day weekends since I started at MIT.

Well, I got myself hooked up with a nice little three-day weekend and so far I’ve done pretty well with it. I’ve gotten some blogging done and more or less broke out of my baseball-related writer’s block (w00t, w00t), I did a bunch of laundry, tried the infamous KFC Double-Down, cleaned up around the house, and trimmed my “beard.”

All-in-all it was a pretty successful couple of days.

Today, however, has been an absolute cauldron of suck. I’ve accomplished next to nothing. I woke up super late (read: 9:30am), I didn’t shower (gross), I meandered about the interwebs for three hours seeing all there was to see (not much), and I wrote a quick recap of a burger from last week. Booooooooooooo.

**cue crafty segue**

So what is a dude to do when he can’t get any motivation to get his day started?! Well obviously he should go out and get a big ole cheeseburger…right?! Don’t worry, it’s a rhetorical question, of course that’s the answer…a cheeseburger is the answer to all of life’s problems. Except for maybe mad cow disease.

Anyway, onto the burger…

Cheeseburger #052

What: Bacon Cheeseburger

Where: Four Burgers

When: April 27, 2010

How (was it): Good shizzle once again. Although I’m starting to think that there is a serious difference of opinion in regards to what the phrase “medium” means between me and the dude running the kitchen.

I think of “medium” as cooked and still sorta pinkish. That’s how most places hook me up when I ask for it medium. This dude likes to cook all the pink out of it, which on some occasions has led to a bit of overcookage. Which is cool. It happens. The burgers are almost always awesome anyway.

I’ve gotta give a serious shout-out today to the “burger sauce” at Four Burgers. It’s one of the plethora of options you can toss on the burger. It is essentially the same type of “house sauce” you see at any other burger place. It’s likely just thousand island dressing and infused with ketchup and/or mayo, but it is some good stuff.

Me likey.

Seriously, y’all…if you haven’t eaten at Four Burgers yet, you clearly hate yourself.
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Cheeseburger Chronicles #051

It is on the rarest of occasions that Grace and I have converging cravings.

Often I’ll be craving—what else—a bacon cheeseburger and she’ll be in the mood for tofu curry or some other barely edible entrĂ©e.

Last Wednesday night, however, Grace turned to me at like 10pm and said the four sexiest words she’s ever uttered:

Grace: "I want a cheeseburger."

At this point my jaw hit the floor and I proposed...or something along those lines?! Perhaps I just started drooling and telling her how we were meant for each other. It all gets a little hazy.

As fate would have it, we snagged some Red Sox tickets the next day and made immediate plans to hit up UBurger before the game…

Cheeseburger #051

What: Cowboy Burger (Bacon/BBQ Sauce/Mushrooms/Pepperjack Cheese)

Where: UBurger by Fenway

When: April 22, 2010

How (was it): F-ing Awesome.

UBurger rocks my face off. The patty is a nice mid-level thickness. Not a pub burger and not a fast food burger, but somewhere right in between. This allows it to be a little overcooked without turning it into a hockey puck.

The cheese, BBQ sauce, bacon, and mushrooms all get along quite nicely together. It was all hot and melty and cheesy and gooey and simply downright awesome.

Although, I sort of wish I’d just gone the basic route like Grace did. She went with the UCheeseburger which is just a standard cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, American cheese, and house sauce.

As I continue my quest to reach the all-elusive (read: might take until August) 100th burger, I’ve found that I’m growing quite found of burgers with lots of veggies on them. It really adds to the flavor and gives some necessary crunch.

Many of the gimmicky cheeseburgers I’ve had this year (Bacon and Blue, BBQ & Bacon, etc…) have been good, but not nearly as good as the ole-fashioned cheeseburger with veggies.

Anyway, that turned into a rambling tangent. Long-story-short, UBurger is awesome. Hit it up and you won’t be disappointed.

BONUS: UBurger opening up a new location downtown by the Boston Common.
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