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From my little brain
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Content is paramount.
Animotion  Vroom  losir logo 
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[1/27/2001]
I've been a tortured soul lately. My heartstrings have been tugging at all sides. I don't know how to define it. Well I do actually, but it's hard to write into words, because I don't know if people can understand my feelings.
If you've been a faithful reader, or a new reader who's read the archives (and I strongly encourage that you do, there's some decent posts there), you'll notice that the basic theme of the majority of posts have been about age. You can still think and act like 12, but there's no denying that I'm hurtling towards the big Three Oh. What a scary thought, more than one third of my life has passed me by. And all I have to show for it is probably some nasty scars from ages past of wreckless fun. I know that chicks dig scars. But now, they don't seem to be worth the trouble.... OUCH! I've said that I don't want to grow up, but upon deeper reflection, it's more than that. I don't want to conform to society's ideal of being grown up. You know: Wife, 1.8 Kids, 2 car garage, and the 25 yr Mortgage. Who says that in order for a person to be happy, one must be married before 30, ready to shoot out a couple of Ankle Biters, and earn a steady income equivilant to the GNP of Timbucktoo? Who decided that for me?? Show me a happy person in marriage, and I'll show you 2 who'd rather pub crawl with their ring finger cut off. That's not fair actually. I know plenty of happily married couples, and I congratulate them. It's a wonderful feeling, to have finally settled down with "The One". I can see the gleam in their eyes, and the inevitable goofy smile each time their better half is mentioned. "Aww, shucks. I'm one lucky guy/gal." *PUKE* I too want to settle down eventually, but it just feels too rushed. I seem to have been flung into outer space, and because of the gravitational pull of my age, I'm locked, stocked, and cocked onto a course to Holy Matrimony - and thereby implied eternal Bliss. Let me make a VERY CLEAR POINT: No one is forcing me to get hitched anytime soon. No one. Don't go start speculating. However, it's the people I speak to everyday. "How old are you?.... Oh, and you're still not ready to settle down??.... Is there something wrong with you??.... Are you sure it's not contagious?" Convention says that I should be itching to settle down. Convention says that if I ain't hitched at around age 30, my sexual preference is obviously for the same gender. Convention says that if by age 30, you haven't found someone at least close to being "The One", then you're doomed in your later years with raising dogs and talking to cats. Gawd!!!! Help mee! ..........*meow* I see couples in restaurants. The wife is taking care of the Kid; lovingingly feeding It with carrots pur�e and washed down with vitamin enriched grape juice. The husband, is invariably either reading a magazine, newspaper, or if all else fails, studying the little diagrams that show how to hold a pair of chopsticks. It doesn't matter, as long as he isn't paying attention to the wife or child, it's all good. Throughout the course of the meal, nary a word will be exchanged between the 2 adults, and the only sensible conversation throughout the night will be "Open wide baby, UUUMMM!" Please don't let me be like that. Just stop me at the altar and say "I don't". I want real spice, not MSG enriched, hydronated unsaturated orgranic compound that looks and tastes like life, but just one calorie! I want the full monty, the whole 9 yards. In short, I want my life to be fulfilling, and not a half baked shell of a man, trying to make sure I fit into society's little jig saw puzzle, with a receeding hairline. I'm doing good so far, and as unlucky as I am at most risk involved activities (ask me about riding my bicycle to Wonderland at age 15 sometime), I've lucked out in life. I've got a decent job. I've got enough money to live in comfort. I've got good friends, and a great little pharmaceutical treasure chest named ms_toxin. Let's put things into perspective. All in all, even if life isn't a bed of roses, at least it's not a wreath of poison ivy. ...I don't ask for much in life, just the basic necessity to be happy: A fast sportbike and an open road; and a huggable, snuggable little toxic bunny on those cold Toronto nights.
Herro everybudy. It's me agaan, your flen'ly Lay-ba-hoot Broggerman (Bloggerman), wiff an-la-da pub-bic service an-loun-cy-mun:
Don't drink and drive...... you might spill your drink. listen in .mp3 form ---> 
[1/26/2001]
There's a new problem. I don't want to share my new URL with people at work. How else can I rant and rave about them?! So for those already in the know. :) Mum's the word. There are good and bad side effects to URL redirection. The great thing is that the Yahoo's java app CANNOT load. Which is great.... except.
Because the thing cannot load, if you have some sort of debugger installed for the Win environment, it asks at every page if you want to debug or not. It's annoying as anything. Sorry folks, that's the way it is. I don't want to buy space. I can probably get 20 megs w/o ads from people, I dunno yet. I'll see..... but this won't affect a LOT of people hopefully. In the meantime, faithful readers; bear with my teething problems. You got it lucky, at least you're not sleeping like a baby; waking up every hour, crying most of the night. Cheers. :O)
I'm so addicted to Blogger now. Even when I have nothing to write about, the page is open. Maybe because I love the sound of my voice (well, it's a figure of speech, it should be "the words of my typing"), a little too much. But I really dig the idea of having a personal soapbox to pollute the virtual world with my thoughts and feelings.
...sit down! And you're gonna like it!
Talk about writer's block.
I wanted to do a social commentary piece about the every day racial prejudices most people display. It was going to be a humourless rant with deep analyis into the human psyche, as well as relevant references into the sub-culture of racial hate, and interracial relationships. I was typing it up, but then I realized 2 things. 1. I have no right nor athority to speak about other races of which I obviously do not belong. Not very prudent. 2. I was painting myself into a corner, and I had no way out. I plodded on, like a brave soldier that I want to be. But it was getting too grim, too dark, too silly. I would have still posted it, except that when I opened another web page, it used the browser blogger was using. So it deleted all I wrote before I could post it. Good, now I don't have to post nothing. :) ...Thus, the writer's block.
[1/25/2001]
Wicked. I placed the HOME - Archive button on the left side of the frame... right above the Blogger button at left. :]
...who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Let the fun begin!
Here's a joke for everyone. :)
What do you call a Chinese guy, who wants to be black, and raps?? ....Yellow Snow. =P
[1/24/2001]
As time change, so does one's thinking. At the behest and prompting of madcanadian. I've changed my online handle (oldschool speak for nick) to losir.
Long story, but suffice to say it's not LOSER, okay?! It's Lo. Sir. Started by another friend Fido Dido, Losir caught on at my last B-day party. So now it's losir. No capital. Capital nicks are so pretentious. Original blog: --------------------- I'll still use [email protected], just b/c I use yahoo messenger, and it keeps track of incoming emails and whatnot. Maybe it'll change, but stuff like this takes time. --------------------- I've changed my nick to thelosir on yahoo pager. Add me if you're on there. Please don't invite me to ICQ or MSN Messenger. I have accounts on both, but can't be bothered to check. If anyone cares, I've got an old school ICQ #. 447141. Yup, one of the early ones. So drop me a line ---> [email protected] ....and I've registered www.losir.com :) W I C K E D.
"The Busy World of Richard Scarry." 6 words. Printed onto the side of a huge apple. Actually, the huge apple in question is one of those kiddie rides. You know the one. Sit kid, insert coin, ride shakes, kid laughs, ride shakes, more laughter, ride stops, kid whines, drag kid home crying. Yes, one of those.
Well, normally, I would pay no heed to what's printed onto one of them rides. (Unless the ride is of a motorcycle. Then I'd want to race home, grab my helmet, and go back for some indoor fun.) However, this time I was totally distracted. You see, other than the huge apple ride, there were a whole congregation of kiddie rides, to attract your Ankle Biter types. There was this poor couple, with 2 strollers. The Mother, sitting on a chair, was dutifully shoving spoonful of mush rhythmically into the maw of the carriage. I assumed she wasn't trying to hide her own food, as much as she was feeding a baby inside. Her back was towards me, and her body blocked most of view, so I can't be certain. Let's just call it an educated guess. The Father, had another bowlful of what I assume to be food, and was chasing a little child of no more than 4 yrs old, round and about. If the kid climbed onto a ride, so the Father went, bowl in left hand, spoon in right. If the kid jumped off and ducked around to another ride, Pops would be half a step behind, begging for the kid to eat what was in the spoon. Round and around they went, like a lost Abott and Castelo routine. Humourous at first, then tiring as I watched. Chase and evade, beg and denied. The kid like a bad dog off its leash for the first time; while the Father was like that pesky fly that just wouldn't leave. I was exhausted, and I wasn't even moving! The patience of this couple was admirable. All this work, just to get your kid to eat. And you know what? I'm sure every parent will have a similar story. Ugh. I'm at an age where my collegues and people I associate with are having children. Today, 2 co-workers began talking about the colour and ordor of their children's poopoo. It was like as if that's normal. If you didn't know, it coulda been: "Yeah Joe, did you see the basketball game? Boy, that Vince Carter...." Instead, because I was next to them, it went like this: Parent Of Odorred Plop (POOP!)-> "You're lucky your baby is 1 week old. Their poop don't stink yet." Congratz, Reaped Another Parent (CRAP!)-> "Really? It will smell bad? She seems pretty good...." POOP-> "Oh yeah, just you wait, and it'll be green." CRAP-> "Actually, my kid already had the runs." Joy of freaking joy. Come on guys, let's talk about girls or sports. We're still young, ain't we? What about the cheerleaders on the team. Yeah?? Come ooooon. PLEEEEZZZEE??!! I don't know folks. I really don't. Maybe it's just me, or maybe I'm too sensitive. But isn't there something wrong with that picture? Golly geewizz. Some people really have their priority screwed up. Back to the athletic kid in the huge red apple. Between running and giggling, he must have fell twice and took about 5 - 6 bites. The Mother was giving sagely advise to the hapless Dad. "Honey, try giving it to him 'chu chu train' style, it really helps." Sure it does Mums.... so does rope and bungee cord, and a funnel for good measure. But I think they call that abuse now. I don't want children. I really don't. I like my freedom, and the fact I'm my own boss. Also, since I act slightly older than my shoe size, I don't think I could raise a child, ever. I know that kids will make people grow up awful fast. If there's "shotgun wedding", which is quick and forced, are there such thing as shotgun maturity?! Let's not find out. I can really appreciate my parents and my grandparents, as well as the 4 aunts and 3 uncles who had a hand in raising me. I can finally and without sarcasm thank each and everyone of you from the bottom of my heart, for the guidance and patience you've invested in me. I hope it wasn't in vain. Boy, what a job. "The Busy World of Richard Scarry." They got most of it right, Busy. And scary. ...Then again, look how I turned out.
Pictures updated once again!
Various pix of my riding buddies and I just chillin' -> VROOM!!! For most people, our old bikes... sniff, I sure miss those early days of riding :] -> VROOM!!! My 929 page revised. Accidently deleted the folder. Whoops. -> VROOM!!! ...Pictures say a thousand words. I can't read a darn thing through my mistied eyes.... ~sniff
As kids, we are taught to "If you don't know, then ask.". It worked up to about when I hit 12, then I encountered these things called females.
It's really rather perplexing. Let me see if I can read off my trusty old score card here: Yes don't mean no. No doesn't always mean no. Yes sometimes mean maybe. Maybe is a no. It's only No if it was a Yes 2 months ago, while drunker than a skunk. *sigh*. But I know one thing, Yes DEFINITELY doesn't mean Yes. (Well, that's correct like maybe 1 times out of 10, which isn't bad.... better than lottery odds, though you still don't win when you hit. :) ) I swear, I'm pretty sure I've seen this little blue book that all wimmen carry, and the title was "The Female Handbook to Fustrating Men." Issued when they purchase their first training bra. The code name for this book was BB, which when said cutely, sounds like they're referring to "baby". Hence, when all the women oogle each time they see a little tot in a stroller, they're really doing some secret society greeting!! "Oooh, look at the cute BB.", or "Awww, isn't that BB adorable?" I've also heard rumours of little "cheat sheets" for girls to memorize. Apparantly, they start them young these days, sometimes as early as age 10! Come on gals, admit it, you take classes on confusion, and plot at night; scheming and playing the vixen on men's demise. I'm on to ya. Grrrrr. It's just not possible to understand the "FE-bus MALE-us" mind. (Which is Latin for "Trouble". Fe-bus, meaning "Uh", Male-us, meaning "Oh".) Lord knows I've aged 20 years just trying to comprehend, (no, too weak a word; anticipate!) girl's whims and wishes. They are flighty as feathers, and stubborn as the proverbial ox. Take for example, the morning ritual of slapping off the alarm clock. When a girl asks that you set the time to 7:30 am. You do it without question. However, being the ever vigilant male, I took the liberty to setting the time (not alarm clock) to 8am, when infact it was 8PM. Thus, when the alarm time of 7:30am is reached, then the clock will show PM. Ah, but there's a method to my madness. You see, no guys like to get up at that ungodly hour. No STRAIGHT guy that is. Or at the very least, no straight male would get up at that hour without much hate on the world. But I digress. That's why, although the alarm clock shows 7:30am, the actual time was 12 hours ahead/behind. I figure that since I (being the ever straight man) hate mornings, girls will too. So, in essence that means that when it's time for them to wake, they won't have to. How brilliant is that?! Gentleman, call Nobel, and pencil in an appointment; I might be able to spare a sec to recive a prize. But to my horror, they actually WANT to get up at 7:30am. Things like washing their hair and driving their boss to work on time is REALLY important. Who knew?! We just wear a baseball cap and call in sick. Problem solved. But ooooh no. Talk about Crouching Anger, Hidden Bodyslam.... Boys, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. When you look at them females, and you get a little flutter in your heart, and your knees buckle each time you smell their perfume. That's them there signals for you to git. If there's a particular gal that makes you stutter like a cold engine in sub-freezing weather, then run in the opposite direction while flailing your arms madly. If you've warned your fellow man that there's a girl within a 10 km radius (6.2139999999999995 miles) of your exact proximity, you've done good. ...Wimmen. Can't live without 'em, but you'd like to.
At this time, I just want to wish everyone a Happy Chinese New Year! "Gong Hay Fat Chow", "Maan See Yu Yee", "Lone Ma Jing Sun", and "Sun tie Geen Hong". Actually, I never do remember all those 4 character phrases, and what I'm supposed to say at New Years.... It's a pretty big disgrace. I could be wishing you a happy B-day for all I know. :) But hey, it's the thought that counts.
I think it's the year of the Snake. Supposedly, doesn't bode well for people born in the year of the Pig. Of which I definitely am one! ...doesn't PIG mean Perfectly Intelligent Guy??
[1/23/2001]
Another site update. Now I've got a "login" page much like madcanadian. I thought that was kinda neat. Sort of like opening credits to a movie I guess. Hope it doesn't look like I'm biting his style too much. Hey gringo, if you're reading. Nice site update. If you haven't seen his redesigned site, take a look.
Also I've subsumed that black background is the way to go. It's so much easier on the eye. Oh well, I tried the grey background, but it makes everything look so drab. A black background with coloured .jpgs makes it stand out more. I'm happy with the new design, and should load at least 50% percent quicker than before. I've taken out the mouse-over picture, and have shrunk them even more. I also liked having my name surrounded by my little turtle dudes. It's how I wanted it to look originally when I first drew the characters and decided them to be links. I didn't know that it would look good, but I'm sure you'll all agree it's nicer than before. I think the site will stay like that for a while. I'll upload more pictures, especially the bike section. :) Other than that, there's still the "Links" to do, which at this time, does not work.
[1/22/2001]
I hate meetings. I really do. No, scratch that. I actually love meetings. Where else can you sit in a room full of adults, and end up with 10 yr old children whining and behaving like there's only 1 MacDonald's Happy meal toy left?! It's insane.
It's not about mudslinging and shirking away from wanting to do work. I'm in a company where people are actually fairly responsible for their jobs. (From what I've seen anyway.... I could be wrong) It's just hilarious to see a problem surfacing and then watching everyone do their best impression of Alfred E. Neuman, and go "What, me worry?". (From Mad magazine.... the guy on every single one of their covers.) I'm not slagging the process, nor any one particular party. I just don't understand how you can get a bunch of highly intelligent people, set forth a problem, and 15 minutes later, everyone has concluded these 3 fundamental truths: 1. I don't care what you say, it's not my fault - Hence, it's someone elses problem. 2. I don't care what you say, it's not broken enough - hence there's no need to fix it. 3. I dont' care what you say, I'm not fixing it - because of Truth #1 and 2. How odd is that? Well look, in the army of my company, I'm definitely in the first line of offence. That is, if push comes to shove, I and my co-workers around me would be the first over the trenches; first battalion out of the boat. In short, I'm but a lowly grunt. I don't try to change the world, I only try to keep changing enough that I don't get left behind. That's all anyone can ask for. Most of you pundits would say, "Get the heck out. Forget being a private, strive to become a general." But I've seen the "officers". And as much as I love the idea of sitting in meetings all day (babysitting no less), I don't know if I can play "the game" all the time. It's like a ship of thieving pirates. They're your best mates when there's spoils to be divied, but when you're trying to reach the high seas, but found stuck in the low tide, well.... "Har matey, Cap'in gonna slit yer thro't, eh!" ...What can I say, I'm a cynical little tyke.
In case you're new to my blogger, check the archive button WAY at the bottom of the page. I've got some pretty good entries archived. So if you're looking for something to read.... check it.
...Confucius say: Man who lives in glass house, must change in basement <- Oswald G. (I wonder how you're doing bud.)
The network at work is excruciatingly slow. I'm starting to pull my hair out. The email client is crashing because it can't reliably connect to the email server. I can't transfer files from one machine to another. It's seriously affecting productivity. Heck, I can't even surf the web properly. ARG.
Times like this when I begin to understand how people could go so bonkers, that they take their guns and start ablazing. Thank goodness Toronto is slightly harder to get a piece. PHEW. I don't even know if I can post this via blogger. Hmm... (note, actually, this is a retyped message, the last one failed misserably.) I finally saw Chicken Run. Well, I saw the first half, and I fell asleep. But seriously, one of the best claymation movies I've ever seen. (Not that I've seen many). If you haven't seen it yet, rent it, it's definitely a squawk. (Pun intended). I'll have to watch it again, to finish it up. My journal has been kinda lax lately. Webpage redesign takes a lot out of me. I'll have to think of some cool stuff to post later. I must keep my audience (all 3 of yous!) amused. ...hellooooo Monday. Welcome back.
I just tried my own webpage, downloading from a very flaky 26,400 bps connection. (It's a 56k modem too.). Maybe because I'm using a free internet service Netzero. Whatever the case, it's pretty dog slow. I think the worse is the mouse-over picture. Oh well, that means next weekend I'll have to make a low bandwidth version. :) Give me something to do I guess. hehe.
...any webpage that isn't constantly "under construction" means the author no longer cares.
[1/21/2001]
Yeehaw. I've finally redesigned my webpage. It's not exactly the way I want it to look actually, but I can live with it for now. it's still rather navigation un-friendly. But you have to admit, the artwork is good. (Pats self on the back).
I've always believed that creativity is more important than the latest tools. The site was built with: red pen - something to sketch with. felt tip marker - to actually draw whatever I wanted. white paper - umm, self explanatory. Lots of tracing. scanner - to get the pictures into .bmps. MS Paint - with Office 2K installed, it'll also edit .jpgs. used to add a little colour into the pix. Acdsee 3.1 jpeg viewer - resize scanned pix, and do emboss graphics. IE5 - needed to preview webpage, duh. Yahoo's Java Site builder - keeps me from learning HTML. With a little bit of patience, I think the site looks pretty good. I really want to do a low band/high bandwidth version. I also want to do frames, all in good time. For now, I just wanted to throw the new site up. The picture sections have also been heavily updated. There's lots of pix of me. I'm not self-obsessed, it's just my family keeps whining about the lack of actual photographic evidence that I'm still all right. Also, most pictures have a little blurb at the bottom. Trying to liven up the pix, so even if you don't know these people, you might get a chuckle or two out of them. That's it. madCanadian lied. It takes more than 1 good day to get a decent site up. :P It took 2 whole nights to draw, scan, and doctor my little turtle dude. Also, the links page don't work yet. I'll update that another time. In the meanwhile, I hope you have fun. Please let me know how slow 33.6 access is. If it's terribly bad, even when not viewing the pix, I will make a low bandwidth version, pronto. But with Cable access, the pages are very view-able. ...no witty tagline at the end of this one. My brain is burnt. |
