Leave it to the Americans to take a Japanese pastime and turn it into an experiment in voluntary public humiliation.

Today, I'd like to talk to you folks about two very, very simple words.

NO CHEESE.

I hate it. Cheese is gross. Period. Though yes, for every rule there are exceptions to it. I've become much more tolerant of the dairy delicacy. Mozzarella is quite good, actually, as is the occasional provolone. I've started putting a little bit of cheese on my nachos and tacos, but not nearly as much as the average person. All other varieties, and I mean all are, to put it succinctly, BLECH. Which brings us to today's anecdote:

Every Friday, my coworkers order lunch. It's a minor treat to congratulate yourself on one one more week or a job well done, and to gear up for the weekend. I don't normally join them; I'm quite content with the cafeteria in the office, or with whatever I bring from home. Today, however, I thought I'd go with the flow. They said Conrad's! Conrad's is a sit-down and take-out steak shop not far from Meditech, and their steak tips are, legitimately, phenomenal. So I figure, hey! Steak tip sub! Peppers, onions, mushrooms... awesome!

Ah, but I remember the first time we went there. I placed my order exactly as I just described, and wasn't I surprised as hell to find that the thing is absolutely dripping with (insert dramatic music here) cheese! Nowhere on the menu under the description of "steak tip sub" did it say "comes with cheese even though you didn't explicitly ask for it." (As an aside, I had the same issue with a buffalo chicken wrap from a different place. Look folks, if it's going to be in the sandwich, I want it in writing!) Whatever, no big deal, I sent it back and got one without cheese. Not so easy this time around, oh no. I'm at my desk at work, not at their table. My buddies took the time to place the order, pick it up, and bring it here. It's 2:00 and I'm hungry as hell, my only breakfast consisting of sunflower seeds and black coffee. So, *cringe* I ate it. Not a fan. Hated it. Borderline disgusting.

What is it about the phrase "NO CHEESE" that sub shops and places like this just don't seem to understand? And what ever happened to something being as described? It doesn't say "cheese" anywhere on the menu, so why the hell is it everywhere in my sub? I didn't ask for it. I don't want it. Stop tossing it into my meals willy-nilly just because you can't possibly comprehend how someone wouldn't want it. I mean for the love of peat (I never was a fan of Pete), what if I was allergic? I'd've had to go hungry (wasting food and money), drive back to the place and demand my sandwich prepared as ordered (wasting time), or dump my meal in the trash and walk down to the good ol' cafeteria (wasting time, money, AND food). No matter which, it's not a very great solution.

Don't get me wrong. Conrad's is a pretty decent place, especially as a sit-down pub-bar-restaurant-thing-place. I just don't recomend it if you're a cheese-hater like I am.

For more information on cheese, and the people who hate it, please entertain yourself with the following links:

• The American Dairy Association and Dairy Council, http://www.adadc.com/
  
• Turophobia - Fear of cheese, http://www.rateitall.com/i-917632-turophobia--fear-of-cheese.aspx
  
• "Why I Hate Cheese," http://bancheese.wordpress.com/2007/08/28/why-i-hate-cheese/
  
• I Hate Cheese (YouTube video), http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5SduYcORA8
  
• LEGO Mousetrap, http://www.gizmodo.com.au/2008/04/lego_mousetrap_makes_mice_hate_danish_cheese-2.html
  

I'm sitting here on my couch next to my darling wife, watching baseball, and I wanted something to amuse myself. I decided to go to one of my favorite time-wasters, but much to my shagrin, my mind totally blanked on the animal kingdom. I typed in "www.albinoblackfish.com". The site exists, though it is only a placeholder. Still... how in the world did I confuse sheep with fish???

You're stuck on a desert island with an enchanted Diskman of Infinite Battery Life, but you can only have 5 CD's. Greatest Hits don't count. What are they?

This is NOT one of those lame, cheesy recycled posts or forwards about counting your blessings every day and stopping to smell the roses.  No, this happened to me last night during dinner.

I had arrived home late, around 7:00 or so, and dinner was still cooking (much thanks to my wonderful wife).  Twenty minutes later, we'd just sat down to a dinner of tofu curry.  The washing machine, not ten feet away from us in the tiny kitchen, churned and churned on a load of laundry, which we would have to put in the drier 5 minutes later in the middle of dinner.  To the other side, within arms reach, a mountainous two-days-worth stack of dishes waited impatiently to be washed.  We're exhausted from our long days at work.  I leaned back in my wobbly chair, older than I am, and smiled.  "I'm actually glad that we have to do dishes, and laundry, tonight," I said.  I went on, not for too long though, about how I really appreciate the rigor of the daily routine.  And y'know why?

I have to wash dishes because I have dishes, and I have food to put on them.

I have to fold laundry because I have clothes, and a washing machine to clean them.

I have to clean the house because I have a house to clean.

I have to make the bed because I have a bed to sleep in.

Sure, the daily routine might be a little easier if I didn't have to wash dishes, fold laundry, or clean the house; but if I didn't have food, clothes, or a house... well suffice it to say that things would certainly be much, much harder.

Thank you, great omniscient being whom I prefer to call Goddess, for providing that which you have provided, and thank you also for withholding that which you have withheld.  Because of you, my life as it is today is as perfect as it can be, and tomorrow it shall be even more so.

My mother sent me this lovely example of motherly love and/or vengeance. Posted verbatim. I swear, the name is just a coincidence.

---

Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal, Brian's mother couldn't help but keep noticing how beautiful Brian's roommate, Stephanie, was. Brian's Mom had long been suspicious of a relationship between Brian and Stephanie, and this had only made her more curious.

Over the course of the evening, while watching the two react, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Stephanie than met the eye.

Reading his mom's thoughts, Brian volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you Stephanie and I are just roommates."


About a week later, Stephanie came to Brian saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy ladle. You don't suppose she took it, do you?" Brian said, "Well, I doubt it, but I'll send her an e-mail just to be sure." So he sat down and wrote:

Dear Mom:
I'm not saying that you "did" take the gravy ladle from the house, I'm not saying that you "did not" take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Love, Brian

Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read:

Dear Son:
I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Stephanie, I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with Stephanie. But the fact remains that if Stephanie was sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.
Love, Mom

LESSON OF THE DAY ... NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER

If to help cleaning the last half of the last paragraph, anybody wants, eternally in their debt I would be.

---

Four score and seven years ago, on this continent a new nation our fathers brought forth, in liberty conceived, and to the proposition that created equal all men are, dedicated.

Engaged in a great civil war, we now are, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. Met on a great battle-field of that war, we are. Come to dedicate a portion of that field, we have, as for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live a final resting place. Altogether fitting and proper that we should do this, it is.

But, in a larger sense, this ground we can dedicate not - we can consecrate not - we can hallow not. Consecrated it the brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have, to add or detract far above our poor power. Little note nor long remember, the world will, what say we here, but never forget what they here did, it can. For us the living, is it, rather, to the unfinished work to be dedicated here which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. Rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, it is - to that cause for - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion which they gave the last full measure of devotion - - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall have died in vain not - this nation - that, under god, new birth of freedom, shall have - of the people - and that government, by the people, for the people, perish from the earth shall not.

fucking godddamn stupid unnecessary redundant quarterly review that was due two months ago but I didn't do it 'cause I was filling out my -yearly- review instead so I don't know why I still need to do a -quarterly- review but I do 'cause my supervisor said so and I was supposed to do it a month ago but I've been too fucking busy with the stypid annoying pain-in-the-ass customer issues that just won't go away so he wanted it today and I still haven't done it so I have to do it friday instead when I should have the day off but I don't have the day off 'cause I'm going to Arizona in december and don't have enough vacation time so I have to work on friday instead of having the day off and hopefully I won't get too much work so I can fill out this stupid unnecessary redundant quarterly review that was due two months ago.

Being both technically and spiritually minded, I've been treading the waters of technopaganism. It's an interesting philosophy that is starting to resonate with me, though I have found more humorous references to it online than I have serious ones. I recently joined the technopaganism LJ community, and one fellow (I use that word genderlessly) posted an intriguing question:

Do any of you kids use or know of rituals for cleansing digital posessions, such as instant messenger screen-names or blogs?

Barring the spelling error and the juvenile reference to his fellow community members, I found the question poignant. There were several responders who recommended the typical "whipe-and-dipe", format-reinstall method that is common among computer owners. If something no longer serves its purpose, erase it. Sounds simple, but I don't think that would be the best course of action in this case. I responded thusly.

We all have different personas, whether we follow a magickal/spiritual tradition or not. Witches have a birth name which we use to identify ourselves in the physical world. We also (may or may not) have a magickal name that we use to identify ourselves in the circle, the magickal world. The digital world is no different, except that we may have several different online names that we use to identify ourselves in cyberspace.

To cleanse our physical selves, we take a bath. To cleanse our magickal selves, we may also physically bathe but we can also go through a magickal cleansing ritual. The important thing to keep in mind is that we do not delete, erase, or remove ourselves in this process, we simply clean what already exists. Why should our digital selves be any different? If you want to do something physically symbolic, think of yourself as your online persona and take an herbal bath. If that doesn't work for you, visualize your online identity, your binary persona, being cleansed with electric and magnetic fields.

By deleting, erasing, or otherwise removing one of our online selves and replacing it with a new one, it is equivalent to suicide, not purification. You take what was, render it no more, and begin anew. If it is your choice for this individual to be a "born again" online entity, then so be it.

Please, I'd appreciate -your- thoughts on this.

I don't usually do these, but this one was cute.

Link: The Stereotype Me Please Test written by humbugunlimited on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

"Yatta" is Japanese for "w00t!"

The game starts with a bunch of people, the first four of whom are named A, B, C, and D.

A to B: Wanna buy a duck?
B to A: A what?
A to B: A duck.
B to A: Does it quack?
A to B: Of course it quacks, it's a duck.
B to C: Wanna buy a dog?
C to B: A what?
B to A: A what?
A to B: A duck.
B to C: A dog.
C to B: Does it bark?
B to A: Does it quack?
A to B: Of course it quacks, it's a duck.
B to C: Of course it barks, it's a dog.
C to D: Wanna buy a toad?
D to C: A what?
C to B: A what?
B to A: A what?
A to B: A duck.
B to C: A dog.
C to D: A toad.
D to C: Does it hop?
C to B: Does it bark?
B to A: Does it quack?
A to B: Of course it quacks, it's a duck!
B to C: Of course it barks, it's a dog!
C to D: Of course it hops, it's a toad!

Continue until the entire system collapses. Get creative with the objects. A mother. A car. A third world country. Enjoy!

God I HATE it when customers call me.

Sure, I'd be HAPPY to drop what I'm doing and take a look at your issue, even though someone else here is already looking at it. It's not like I was deep in the middle of another complicated problem, and so what if I have 37 other issues in the queue already, don't worry about it, I'd be absolutely delighted to help you out!

Shoot me.

A friend of mine linked me to a Washington Post article from Saturday talking about soldiers getting attached to their robots -- so attached that they form a quasiemotional, pet-and-owner bond with the little buggers. Here's one of the more memorable excerpts:

"At the Yuma Test Grounds in Arizona, the autonomous robot, 5 feet long and modeled on a stick-insect, strutted out for a live-fire test and worked beautifully, he says. Every time it found a mine, blew it up and lost a limb, it picked itself up and readjusted to move forward on its remaining legs, continuing to clear a path through the minefield.

Finally it was down to one leg. Still, it pulled itself forward. Tilden was ecstatic. The machine was working splendidly.

The human in command of the exercise, however -- an Army colonel -- blew a fuse.

The colonel ordered the test stopped.

Why? asked Tilden. What's wrong?

The colonel just could not stand the pathos of watching the burned, scarred and crippled machine drag itself forward on its last leg.

This test, he charged, was inhumane."

Here's the full text: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/05/AR2007050501009_pf.html

"WASHINGTON, April 23 — To settle a lawsuit, the Department of Veterans Affairs has agreed to add the Wiccan pentacle to a list of approved religious symbols that it will engrave on veterans’ headstones."

I say it's about time! Full text here: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/24/washington/24wiccan.html

On the Meditech classifieds, there is a section for free stuff. Here is one of the recent entries:

Brown Lab - I have a friend who is looking for a home for his 4 year old Brown Lab (he and his wife are expecting in May), otherwise he is thinking of putting him down. The dog is very friendly and loving, just a bit high-strung; would be great pet with someone who has a yard. He loves people and is good with older kids. If interested, please call and I can forward your information.

Please, if anybody in Mass knows someone who is looking for a pet, please let me know. Help a poor lil' dog find a nice new family. Thanks!

Customer: This interface still doesn't work. You said something a week ago about changing our upload codes?
Me: No, we asked you to change your download codes.
Customer: But we already have download codes.
Me: Yes, but they're wrong, you need to change them.
Customer: Ok, so we have to change our download codes.
Me: Yes.
Customer: What do we change them to?
Me: Look back to what we told you to change them to a week ago.
Customer: Those aren't the download codes we're using right now.
Me: I know, the ones you're using are incorrect, you have to use these.
Customer: Oh, ok we'll do that and then we'll call you back.
Me: Actually, you should be talking to your specialist. I'm just a programmer.



The customer is always right, except when they're flaming morons. And if they're only garden-variety morons, gimme a can of gasoline and a match.

Code Monkey fighting losing battle against steadily increasing workload. Code Monkey want nap. At least Code Monkey have Dr. Pepper.