Secretly, I Hope My Kids Are Gay

Just something I’ve been thinking about recently.

I’m not sure I want children, and I feel selfish sometimes because it feels like I only want a certian kind of child. (Like, quiet and smart, with fine, light-brown hair who wears glasses and likes reading books with cats in her lap.)

First, I think it would be easier for me to handle dating if the boys brough home boys and the girls brought home girls.

Secondly, I think it would just be cool to be the parent who goes into “The Talk” with the attitude that “This is where babies come from. Blah, blah. Sometimes men and women have sex, sometimes women and women love each other too. Sometimes you like both. You may not know which one you are, but I want you to know that whatever happens, I’ll love you no matter what the world says.”

They may endure extra pain (I hope the bigotry is behind us by the time my kids get to school.) I would know in my heart that none of their pain is from me, and that I could at least be supportive of them, so I can help lessen the pain that I have no control over.
I don’t know if that’s selfish of me.

More stuff on the car.


Everything else works on my car now (I got the breaks back in shape by going to an empty parking lot and slamming on them a few times. That was fun and took months off the tires!) but when I turn the car off, something is draining the battery. I checked the fuse slots with a meter and I was getting juice through the circuit that has the dome lights, the key dinger and the trip computer. Figuring I could live without these things, I left that fuse out. The battery still drained overnight. None of the other fuse slots on the panel show power to them and with all the fuses out, I still get voltage out of the battery when I put the meter between the terminal post and the cable clamp.

Grrrr…   car trouble.

Island Hopping


Sometimes anthropology is really, really interesting to think about. Like wrapping your mind around how the Hawaiians actually found their island. It’s so remote. It’s thousands of miles from the mainland.

I remember a story about some guys who made a balsa wood boat so they could get to Easter Island to prove that it could be done with ancient technology. The trip from the South American mainland to Easter Island is shorter than the trip to Hawaii from other places, but not considerably shorter. The guys in the story, however, knew what they were looking for and could navigate accordingly. How did the people, presumably in outriggers or some other sort of small boat, actually find land in a vast ocean. Makes you wonder about all the ancient explorers who didn’t make it to a random island and died of dehydration. It’s not like finding a continent, people have been running into the shore of the New World for 1200 years. It’s finding a tiny dot on a great blue carpet, from carpet level.

I think if everyone in history were like me, no one would be living in the Americas, let alone the Pacific Islands until they invented giant cruise liners with beds and a well-stocked galley.

Installed Windows Twice Today


Put in a new drive, installed Windows on it, went around the net getting drivers and programs I needed, got infected because I was not using Firefox, said a few choice words at a loud volume, installed Windows again.

That was my afternoon. There was a Coors Light or two in there somewhere also.

Look Ma, No Brakes


I think the breaks are in dire need of fixing. The car drove wonderfully, after I charged the battery. (And I’m all stocked up on Coscto chow.) I don’t know if my electrical problem is fixed, but I’ll know in the morning after it sits for a while if it drained the battery.

I do know that I needed to make a fast stop at a yellow light. The car stopped smoothly and safely, but it sounded like the end of the world. (The tired squealed like the brakes had locked up.)

Snoopy Dance


It started right up.

Now I just need to tighten a few bolts, put a couple things back on and get the taste of gasoline out of my mouth. Seriously… I’ve brushed my teeth and used Listerine two times and these chocolate chip gas cookies are not yummy.

I’ll tell you how it test drives soon.

Half Way Done in a Process


Well, the gas tank is off, the fuel pump is purchased and now I just need to do everything it took me the last 3 days to do… backwards.

If only half way done with the process meant half way done with the work. This may take hours. This may take the rest of the weekend. Oy.

I just hope that once the last bolt is in place, the car will start. I will cry if it doesn’t. I swear. Curl right up in this puddle of gasoline on the ground, cover my face with these greasy hands and bawl like a toddler.

I’ll also take this opportunity to thank everyone who helped me, once again. I could live to be 150, and I will still not be done thanking all of you.

Time Under the Van


More time spent under the Aerostar:

Step one: Raise the vehicle so I can fit my fluffy self under the car. Place a jack with a board under the tank to hold it up.
Step two: Disconnect the battery and lay out a couple of well-placed fire extinquishers.
Step three: undo the bolts that are holding the gas tank’s straps to the chasis. (I kid you not, the first one took two hours, the second one, 30 minutes.)
Step four: ??? (How to I get the straps off?)
Step five: disconnect the hoses and wire harness.
Step six: remove the tank, put in the new fuel pump.
Step seven: I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it.

And then the car should start.

Why is nothing easy on this fucking car?

Were They Born With Awesome Names?


There is a representative from my county named Joe Nation. JOE NATION! You see those red white and blue signs with his name on them and you just wanna stand up straight and salute. He lost a primary against Lyn Woolsey. I mean, her name sounds cuddly, but it’s no JOE NAAAATION.

That guy who sells those scammy ab machines on late night TV… his last name is Abdo! Did he look at his last name and get an idea or did he get the idea and create the persona?

And tell me Wolf Blitzer didn’t change his name so it would look cool while covering desert warfare.

I know for a fact Michael Savage changed his name. I think it was right the first time though. He’s a Wiener.

Maybe this should be a poll on what I should change my name to.

Xander Sparks? Robert Awesome? Steve McCool? Joe Kickass?

The Itis


I’m starting to think the suffix “itis” means “That which has no cure, but makes you wish you had health coverage anyway.”

Tinnitus: That sound I’ve heard since my earliest memory, sitting on the bed in the first bedroom of my house in San Jose listening to the high-frequency squeal the silence makes.

Tendonitis: I can’t fucking hold my right hand with my palm out 90 degrees to my wrist and it hurts when I do anything with it. I wish I had a picture. I can make an L-shape with my left hand, but can’t get my right hand past about 45 degrees in any direction. That’s ±¼π for you trigonometry nuts.

Grrr… curse the human body.

Check Fraud


Can any harm come from cashing their checks and waiting until it’s found out to be counterfeit in a couple months before sending the “overage”? Bank fees? Criminal charges?

I played along with one of those Nigerian scammer guys and he sent me a check for $1700. 

I’m tempted to put it in savings and let it collect interest until it’s found out.


A Thought on Auto Repair


Well, as some of you know, I got a replacement car and as some of you also know, it doesn’t run.

I spent 3 hours yesterday putting new plugs in. That was terrible. I would like to throw crap at the engineers who designed this car but thankfully there is that can help me with car problems. While I was down there, I tested the wires, and they were good. I tried the car again, and it still didn’t start. My buddy and I were trying to figure out what it could be, so he sprayed some ether into to air intake and it started right up for about 5 seconds. Well that’s cool, I think that means the ignition works. That of course means I need to check the fuel pump, and hopefully it’s not inside the gas tank or that’s a daunting project. I am almost afraid to try it, because if it doesn’t solve the problem I’ll probably roll my car up and off an overpass on the first person I think looks like a used toddler convertible seat salesman.

As I am preparing to read up on my fuel system and crawl under the car, I had a thought:

Why don’t we just run cars on flammable gas inserted into the air intake?