WOOT! Accomplished via the GTA overflow.

More information and instructions @ pspupdates.qj.net

Good work! My thumbs or my girlfriend may not thank you, but I sure do.

I’m all kinds of excited…touch me…

YIKES!

Look at this, 8-Year-Old Brings Father’s Gun to Day Care, Shoots Classmate…

From the article:

The boy’s father, John Linwood Hall, 56, was arrested and charged with leaving a firearm within reach of an unsupervised minor, contributing to the delinquency of a minor and possession of a firearm by a felon. His son, was charged as a juvenile with numerous counts that police declined to outline yesterday. The boy was placed in the custody of the Maryland Department of Juvenile Services, which provides counseling and treatment to delinquent juveniles. In charging the boy, authorities weighed the nature of the offense and the child’s disciplinary history against his age, officials said.

Talk about your bad role models…

What ever happened to the good ol’ days? Where a simple argument about your favorite cartoon character ended in a “You suck!” or the infamously popular “Your gay!”

Remind me not to piss off any little kids. I used to like making my physical and mental superiority known to younger people. Now, you have to make sure they aren’t packing heat before you go making them feel more useless then they already are…

Cayln this is for you.

For quite sometime now my brother’s wife Cayln has been wondering why I haven’t posted any pictures of her (Although, there are pictures of her…just not in the “friendsNFamily” area of my photos section). They have been married for about seven months, and have been together for at least five years before that. I guess, I don’t really have an excuse.

So, I have updated the friendsNFamily section of my photos with pictures of her. Check’em out.

She puts up with not only his crap (which is enough by it’s self), but mine, and the rest of the bunch too. She is a terrific sport, and a wonderful addition to our family. My brother could not have picked a smarter or more beautiful woman to be his mate then her. I am very proud of both of them for their accomplishments and I wish them all the best.

Ok, ok, ok…I feel so dirty now for being nice…(cold shivers)…I have to balance things out a little.

Cayln! Get your black ass off the computer and in to the damn kitchen! Make like a good little woman and get to baking them pies and/or doing that laundry!

Oh yeah, and quit your bitchin…

Ahhhhhhh, that’s better. :^)

Let me start off by saying, I love me some Popeye’s chicken! L-O-V-E. Love it! It’s delicious in so many ways. The herbs and spices are in such a perfect balance I openly weep at it’s pure and innocent beauty. There are so many menu items to choose from, all completely worth your undivided attention during consumption. That New Orleans (before Katrina) pizzazz gives Popeye’s chicken its special and unique flavor. Until the day I die or until they close their door’s which will indeed be a sad day for mankind, I will kneel in humble acquiescence of it’s dazzling golden fried magnificence. Try it for your self today!

(With eyes squinted, looking from left to right slowly I lean in and whisper)

Now, let me introduce you to the darker side of this seemingly pure and modest establishment.

Besides the Giblets (Which is one of the most disgusting and filthy things I have ever known). I can honestly and calmly say, that Popeye’s chicken is the Devil’s chicken. I will elaborate…

There are two main types of chicken at Popeye’s, mild and spicy. I have savored each taste many times. I like to stick with the mild, but sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to fucking do. Common in flavor, but unmistakably individual, they both bring something special to the table. Yet, each time I forget the menacing nature of the spicy variety. Masked in a wonderful aroma and behind a crispy veil lurks a predator. While chewing this treat you can feel it’s slightly spicy nature working it’s magic. Twelve hours later, you are crippled by a pain no normal human being was designed to withstand. I call it the SCAB (Spicy Chicken Ass Blowout) effect. The spices must be arranged in such a way that they do not cause much discomfort during the eating process. However, once it has had a chance to concentrate in your bowels, it is already too late. When your body detects something is wrong, it panics. Causing a number of uncomfortable symptoms, ultimately ending in the SCAB effect. First you notice a small upset in the pit of your belly. The contractions worsen and become more frequent until they make your head glisten with beads of cold sweat. A bathroom is your only salvation. Once in the vicinity of one your intestine spasm. Causing you to lose all control of your body. Even after the ordeal is finished you don’t remember what exactly happened.

People, what I am telling you here is, my sweet virgin bunghole feels like it was defiled by one thousand prison inmates. Brown eye devouring pain, and shame are my only feelings right now. As I was perched above a cool white bowl, expelling my insides out at ludicrous speeds, and trying not to break a vein in my forehead I said to my self. “WHY?”

WAIT! There’s more!

The worse was yet to come. After the searing chemicals had done their worse to my fragile o-ring I must of course wipe, like any sane person. This action is the catalyst of and marks the beginning of a very bad day. No matter how soft or how smooth the paper I use it is like wiping with red hot sandpaper, each pass removes layer upon layer of your asshole. Your eyes cross, and you can hardly catch your breath. When it’s all over, you can barely sit. Every time you laugh or cough you can feel it.

How can something so delicious, be so devastating?

Unless you enjoy rectal agony DO NOT eat spicy chicken from Popeye’s.

DAM YOU POPEYE! DAM YOU TO THE FIREY DEPTHS FROM WHICH YOU CAME!

I can’t believe it, it’s so simple…YES!

I have found a cure to the fighting and killing in the Middle East.

Everything we have tried so far hasn’t worked. Innocent people have lost their lives on the battlefield in the name of freedom… We continue to use weapons and death as deterrents for what we call unreasonable behavior. We need to try something different people. Our strategy thus far has not worked. Simply put we need to help them, not kill them…

I have found what it is they are looking for…it is…

“sexywomen.”

Since my post on the review of that smelly garbage heap that is the movie Hostel, I have noticed an unusually high amount of traffic from countries like Saudi Arabia, India, Iran, Turkey, Syria…all of them got to my site by one method and one method only.

Searching for “sexywomen.”

That’s all they want y’all…”sexywomen.” Let’s help them by sending them a few of the sexiest women from all of the countries of the world. That and some damn air conditioning. I bet you a $1,000,000.00 dollars that the fighting would subside and that there would finally be peace throughout the world.

OH! I can almost taste it.

Go forth young “sexywomen” and do thy bidding. You are truly blessed. You hold the key to saving the planet and all of it’s beautiful life. Use that beauty to calm the dark dragon!

Either that, or “sexywomen” is some kind of code they use to spread their messages of racism and hate throughout the world all under the guise of porn. If that’s the case…nuke them all to hell or wherever it is they think they go when they meet their fate. Using porn for a tool of evil. How dare them! A big radioactive glass parking lot is just what we need. Dirty towel headed sandy bastards.

I just put a mint candy in my mouth. When I did I noticed a funny stink…

So like any respectable man, I smelled my fingers. SWEET JESUS! Disgusting…what the hell is that shit? It smells like a combination between week old General Tso’s Chicken and that smell your belly button has after a long hot day.

I don’t remember sticking my finger in anyone’s asshole…it’s absolutely horrible. Did I scratch my own ass and not realize I may have gotten some shit on my freaking fingers?

I don’t think I did…

Why do I keep smelling it. It’s abominably atrocious…but I can’t stop smelling it. It’s stink fills my nostrils, I am reminded of many joyful hours of playing my Game Boy on the toilet.

I spit the mint out…it tasted like shit.

EWWWW!

I gotta go wash my hands now…wish me luck.

Round 1:

DING! DING!

Knowledge starts off strong, throwing a left and then a right landing them perfectly. Experience doesn’t seem shaken though. Experience is a veteran, and has won many fights. Knowledge is fairly new to this type of event. Knowledge has moved to Experiences core and is brutalizing it. Knowledge is giving Experience everything it has. Knowledge is starting to show signs of fatigue. Sweating, and breathing heavy. Experience looks fresh and clean with a smirk, like he has a secret.

DING! DING!

(Come on Experience you can take this guy…)
(Good job Knowledge, keep it up, don’t wear your self out.)

Round 2:

DING! DING!

Again Knowledge is the obvious leader in this fight. Landing devastating blow after devastating blow. Experience still seems to be hiding something. OH NO! What is this!? Experience is now throwing massive punches. Knowledge has been taken off guard. OH Experiences hit’s are strong and swift. Knowledge seems to be…

DING! DING!

It’s over folks, it’s over. Experience wins the championship…the glass ceiling stays in place and somewhere a demon just got it’s horns.

The crowd cheers!

I have been working as a programmer for about five years now. I have successfully completed a wide variety tasks. Doing everything from simple data processing to writing full blown web-enabled applications. I know that I do not know everything. There is always room for improvement, and always room for more knowledge. I take my job very seriously and I take pride in knowing I can solve pretty much any technical problem thrown in front of me.

Yet, there is a proverbial glass ceiling above my very head. Managers only see a twenty-four year old still working on his bachelors in Computer Science from UMBC that has only had 5 years of “in the field” experience.

They don’t see what I have done, or what I know how to do. They don’t see that I am a excellent worker. They don’t see that age doesn’t matter. Experience, it seems, is a word created to keep people from whining about age discrimination.

The jobs where I feel I will excel, the jobs with the level of challenge I crave are all closed to me. In a contest of knowledge versus experience. Experience will always win.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand…I guess. It just does not make sense to me that someone with 10 years of experience in a given technical field will get picked for a job over someone who has actually done the things the job is asking for and is a demonstrated awesome fucking worker.

What gets my panties all in a bunch is I know plenty of people with a degree and many years of experience in a computer related field that couldn’t tell the difference between a back slash and a forward slash. Those people usually get the jobs that I can’t. Why? Because they have been working longer? What good sense does that make? Really all that means is that you have to pay them more.

I don’t feel fulfilled when I am making things easier for people who are lazy in the first place. Programming, sadly, has become a job to me. It used to put a glimmer in my eye when I created a new algorithm for handling a particular problem. Now, I make tools for people who couldn’t care a less what the data is for or the information gleaned from it. They are the physical manifestations of a justification for a larger budget. Lets face it folks, people love spending the hell out of some money don’t they?

Things for me at least, have become very repetitious. Challenges that have been accomplished stay just that…accomplished. When a similar problem pops up, I know exactly how to handle it. I guess that’s what they mean by gaining experience, but is experience beneficial when all the problems are the same?

I make excellent money for my age and background. So, I am not complaining. I can stick it out until I am older and people look at me differently because I have been around longer…

Maybe I just really need a new job.

I should stop my bitching. I should throw a rock at that damn glass ceiling. If I do, I wonder, will it cut me?

Sorry to be sounding like I hate everyone…than again…no I am not. I do hate everyone. I am a equal opportunity hatist.

I forgot to add one thing to my list of annoyances yesterday.

DISCLAIMER: I post this stuff pretty much for legal reasons. If one day I am forced to act upon my urges while in the presence of one of these twits, I just want to make it known that I gave them every chance to learn that it changes me temporarily, making me go insane. While in this state I am not in control of my actions. I flail about in an unpredictable manner, and my eyes glaze over. I have been told I make reference to the name Mephistopheles, but I can’t personally vouch for that. All I do know is, when I change, I must accomplish my goal with a quickness.

So, BE WARNED.

4. People Who Drag Their Feet While Walking: Just pick up your fucking feet dude. Not hard at all, even monkeys can do it. It’s one thing to stumble and drag your feet, once in a blue moon. Though, if you are habitually letting the front of your foot hit before your heel chances are you are a child molester. Yeah, I said it…your a child molester. Police all over the world should arrest people like this because they have had unconsenting sex with a minor. Here’s the rule. When you walk you put your foot out in front of you and lean forward. When you feel gravity taking effect let your heel touch first rolling the foot down to the top. Then repeat with the other in a cyclical fashion until you have met your destination. Old crotchety cross-eyed men break this rule frequently. These are the guys you work with that make stupid jokes about things they should keep their nose out of. They like making odd comments that usually get a few raised eyebrows. When the shit hits the fan these guys are the first jump out of a window, off a bridge, or off them selves by sucking on the tail pipe of their car. I do like to have them around from time to time, just in case a lion or a dinosaur is chasing me, they are slow and take sufficient focus off of me so I can get away without hurting the poor hungry creatures. No one will miss them when they die, they are a waste of precious resources that some one useful could have used had they not been born.

Again, I sit at my little cubicle wondering about life and why things are the way they are…why some people make me want to pretend I was invisible so they wouldn’t talk to me, while others make me want to choke their heads with such ferocity they can’t talk to me.

I pretty much don’t like being talked to by most people.

I never used to be this way. I can remember a time I used to be a nice person with goals, morals, and love for others of my species. Yet, a world full of selfish, loathsome, and repulsive people have made those aspects of my personality fade in relation to the other more sinister qualities which now out shine the good side of me like the bright corona of the sun in an eclipse.

I wish to be young again, when things were simpler. When everyone had something new to teach me, good or bad. I wish that I understood why these things make me so angry so deep down in my soul that it is hard to find the words to write about them.

I am sure if you think about them, the items in the list below probably either make you laugh, grit your teeth, or both. That is if they don’t apply to you. Cause if you do any of this stuff I am describing below, just slowly click the back button on your browser and I will pretend I never saw you visiting my site.

So without further a due, here is the extension to my first list of types of people who make my days long, and cold.

1. People Who Blink Too Long/Look At My Head While Talking To Me: Is it necessary while talking to me to blink for 30 seconds at a time like you are having a seizure? I really don’t think that it is. There is a split second one needs to accomplish the task of blinking, unless you have something like my fist in your eye. Also, why do certain people seem to look everywhere else except for who they are talking to? Not, like the are preoccupied with other things happening in the area around them, just slightly looking above your eyes. Do I have something on the top of my head? I always think they are lying to me. They make you want to grab their head and force them to look at your face while they are talking. I may not be Brad Pitt or anything, but I am dam sexy. Look me in my face when talking to me you pussies.

2. People Who Walk With Non-Parallel Hands: This is kind of hard to explain…bare with me on this. This usually happens with hefty people. The fat on the top of their back below the shoulder blade has forced the arm to angle it’s self differently. Normal people walk with their hands parallel with their bodies, thumbs facing front, little finger in the back. These people walk with their hands mostly perpendicular to their body with the top of their hand facing front, and the palm of their hand facing back. It usually accompanies a hunchback or what I like to call buffalitis, where their body starts to take the form of a buffalo, you know like really top heavy. This is something that the person can’t really control but when I see it I can’t help feeling like I should tell them to lay off the bucket of fries they probably just threw back. People’s hands are meant to be mostly parallel, go get that hunk of shit sucked off your back so you can at least look like you aren’t an idiot.

3. Guys Who Cross Their Legs: Women have known this next bit of information for ages. If your a guy and you like crossing your legs, you have a small penis, period. Not, that I care about the size of your dillydally, I just don’t like you. Women who see you are instantly turned off at the mental image of your flaccid little baby wang. Guys should sit like guys, not some prissy little tie wearing douche. I hope you burn in hell for two eternities.

That’s pretty much it, for now. I am sure there are other things…I just haven’t seen them recently so they aren’t fresh in my mind.

Actually, the title of this post ought to just be “My Brother” cause we are all crazy. Oh well…

I was over my Mothers house last night to celebrate mine and my brother Gary’s birthday since they are only a day apart. My other brother Ben and his wife Caylyn were there too. They told us all a story that I feel I must share because it was very funny. If you don’t laugh at this then you must go see a doctor post haste, becuase you have something wrong with you.

Ben and Caylyn are waiting in line at a busy store.

Ben: I love you Caylyn, with all my heart!

Caylyn: (Smiles, and looks deeply into his big blue eyes.)

Ben: No, wait, I love you with some of my heart.

Caylyn: What!?

Ben: What?! I have to leave room for Jesus.

:^)