Sot

So this happened…

Last Saturday I decided to head on up to Sports Haven – my ‘local bar’ of late.  Arrived somewhat early in the afternoon (approximately 3:00pm) and met up with Ron for some coneys and beers.  $1 coneys are always seen as a good deal by me and, since Sports Haven has ‘em three days each week and is a rather short walk from my parent’s, I take advantage of the deal on a somewhat regular basis.  Invited both Ron and Erik to join me this time.

Ron and I arrived pretty much simultaneously – he even yelled something at me as his car passed me walking although I couldn’t make out what he said and never bothered to find out … I’m sure it was something silly as that’s just the way we are…  He was exiting his vehicle as I arrived at the bar.

We entered the bar, grabbed a table and ordered up some coneys and a couple beers.  I also got myself an order of fries.  And this was the beginning – two coneys, an order of fries and beer #1 for me.  I won’t track what the others had as that information is inconsequential to my story.  For me, however, it’s two coneys, one order of fries and a beer at this point.

We were sitting there enjoying our food, sipping on our beers and chatting when Erik arrived.  He joined us at our table and ordered himself a coney and a beer.  I believe this was where I decided to grab myself another coney and beer as well.  Not quite sure if this was my second or third beer although it seems to me that it was merely my second.  Not sure what time it was when Erik arrived, but I do believe that both Ron and I had already eaten our coneys and consumed our first brews – must have been around 3:30.  This now brings my running total up to three coneys, an order of fries and two beers.

The three of us were sitting there contemplating solutions to the various problems we’re currently being faced with in this shitty world that we find ourselves living in … or perhaps we were just reminiscing over previous attempts we made at the same; either way, we were once again ticking away the moments that make up a dull day as we had so many times before.  It’s always a blast to get the opportunity to chat with these guys.  I’ve known both pretty much my entire life and, regardless of how long the time span is between meetings, the conversation picks up from where we left off effortlessly.  Once again, we were at it.

Ron, at some point, received a phone call from his son and invited him to join us.  He lives close by and joined the three of us soon thereafter.  This was when I ordered my third beer … must have been somewhere around 4:00.

I believe it was about an hour or so that all four of us sat there sharing stories before Erik, Ron and his son needed to leave.  Must have been close to 5:00 when they all did just that and I decided to stay at the bar by myself.  I had nothing else to do and figured I might as well waste away the rest of the day hanging out at the bar, having a few beers and watching some football or whatever.  It’s not like I needed to worry about driving home later or anything – my journey home was known to be merely a 15-minute walk as usual.  I go to that bar primarily because it’s only “stumbling distance” from my home avoiding the worry of perhaps drinking a bit too much.  No drive, no problem…

I remember basically burning through the remainder of that day.  I watched the Chiefs eliminate the Colts and the Rams take out the Cowboys; participated in your typical, bullshit small talk that consistently occurs between patrons in sports bars; ordered up some more fries and had a couple more coneys ($1-a-piece, why not?).  I was also, throughout the entire day, drinking beers.  I wasn’t really keeping track of how many beers I ordered however there were seven listed on the final tab I paid prior to leaving the bar.  It was slightly after 2:00am when I began my walk home – some 11 hours after arriving.

Thinking back on the evening/night later, I do not recall actually doing any “binge” drinking.  The seven beers on my tab actually seemed like too many when I received it and I remember saying the same to Coreen, the bartender.  Since they were on special (I think they were something like $1.75 each) and I didn’t really want to argue over something so petty, I just paid the tab.  She may have accidentally included the three beers I had already paid for from earlier in the day, but who really knows…?  I didn’t much care.

As to my condition, I felt fine – a little tipsy, but overall stable.  I distinctly remember the walk home as clear as a bell.  I remember entering my parent’s house, switching the light in the living room on, brushing my teeth, switching off the light in the living room and going to bed.  I remember all of that as being completely normal.  I felt completely sober.  I wasn’t stumbling or anything.  It was approximately 2:20 in the morning…

Next thing I vaguely remember was – oh, I’m not exactly sure how to describe this – “coming to” perhaps … somehow lying slumped in the corner of the bathroom and hearing this scale that my parents have (the electronic speaking type) sounding off that, “Your weight is twenty point zero pounds,” followed shortly by getting assisted up by my father in my bedroom where I apparently fell again.  I then headed back to my bed and lied there for some unknown amount of time (not long, though…) before getting up and noticing that my underarm deodorant had been knocked over on my dresser and wondered exactly what happened with that.  I don’t remember getting out of bed to begin with, heading into the bathroom nor returning to my bedroom between the two occurrences of “coming to.”  Not only that, but I distinctly remember hearing the scale read off a weight of exactly 20.0 pounds exactly one time … it usually states the weight twice followed by a “powering down” announcement.  All I heard was one announcement of 20.0 pounds with no notification of powering down – at least that’s all I remember.  I’m positive that more was said.  I found out later, from speaking with my parents, that all this madness occurred sometime around 6:30am – that’s somewhere around four hours after I went to bed.

I also felt like I had been in a fight or something.  I hadn’t … but it was later explained to me, by my parents again, that I had apparently passed out in the bathroom (and the newly bent towel rack in there is a strong sign of where, exactly, that was) as well as in my bedroom where I ended up slumped between a dresser and the door of the closet.  My back and upper right arm had a couple somewhat deep scratches and, as I would soon find out, my coccyx (tailbone) got bruised … again.  Been noticing that basically for the entire last week although it seems to be getting better now…

So my mom’s pissed now – I did mention the bent towel rack, right…? – and I’m confused.  What the hell happened?  It’s gotta, at least in some aspect, be related to what I drank the evening before; but I felt fine when I walked home.  I’m not just saying that as a joke – I’ve been drunk many times before and do know what being drunk feels like.  I was steady as a rock when I left the bar and walked home.  Although it is possible that I drank as many as ten beers that day – although I’m thinking the total was closer to seven – that was in the span of eleven hours.  Either way that’s less than one beer per hour … and the beers were of the ‘short’ variety – they were on special at $1.75 a piece, so they weren’t large.  And why would I be passing out some four hours after going to sleep?  I’m still wondering exactly what happened there…

So now I’m thinking that I damn well better stop drinking completely.  That’s a bummer … it was nice to go have a few beers as a brief escape from this shit-show that my life has become every once in a while; but after that experience I’m thinking I better quit that.  I don’t know, is that possibly a sign of impending alcoholism?  Now that’s something I most definitely do not need.  Oh well, one more minor pleasure gone.  Life just continues to get shittier and shittier…

bis später,

Coriolis

Password:

So you know what pisses me off these days (well, one of the many many things that piss me off these days…)? Sites that put stupid limitations on password creations! God I hate that!!! Don’t these idiots realize that all they're doing is basically making their site less secure that way? Here’s an example to further explain why this is so freakin’ stupid:

We’ll use you, the average computer user, as an example. Now, to begin with, you already have a very secure and easy to remember (at least for you) password that you would basically like to use everywhere. Why? Because you know it and you’re not dumb enough to give it to others. Let’s assume this great password just so happens to be “fucky0u!”. Now the great thing about this password is that it uses eight characters (a minimum requirement on many sites), alphanumeric characters consisting of both alphabetical characters and one number – the “o” is a zero – and, as an added security bonus, you’ve thrown in a “special character” at the end with your “!”. Good password. So, this becomes the password you want to use everywhere. Then you sign on to some sight (Time Warner Cablevision, for example) that makes your password unusable…

You see, Time Warner Cablevision has a rule that no “special characters” can be used in one’s password. You need to ditch the “!” in your password; unfortunately this brings your password down to seven characters and breaks the eight character rule that Time Warner also enforces. Okay, so you add another “u” to the end (or something similar) which now gives you two passwords to remember – “fucky0u!” for all sites except Time Warner Cablevision and “fucky0uu” for the latter. No big deal, but are you actually going to remember this every time you log into this special case site? I doubt it… But, and I’m sure you’re thinking, “So what? It’s only two passwords. Big deal…” Then you log in to a new site that creates a new restriction – they require at least one capital letter…

Okay, fine … now you’ve got three passwords – “fucky0u!”, “fucky0uu” and “Fucky0u!”. It’s becoming harder and harder to remember which version is used for which site; and, since the password restrictions are only told to you whilst you are creating your passwords, there is no reminder as to what version you need to use as you log in. It only gets worse as you create more and more versions based on other site restrictions – for example, some don’t allow any numbers. When taken with the other possible restrictions, this turns our initial, quite secure password into six versions – the three mentioned before as well as “fuckyou!”, “fuckyouu” and “Fuckyou!”.

Add to that the security feature of some sites that allow no more than three log-in attempts with the same username (oh yeah, and usernames are just as bad…) before your account gets locked – sometimes requiring a conversation with somebody speaking in a rather strong Indian accent wherein you are asked to give some very personal information (completely unrelated to the site you are trying to get back into) in order to get your account re-opened. This, of course, leads to a new password (randomly generated) being sent to you that you need to change back to whatever version of your standard password is acceptable to said site when you finally get in. And don’t even get me started on the sites that keep track of past passwords and have restrictions on their re-use…

So, what we’re now forced to do is somehow make note of which site requires exactly which version of our password. Yeah, your browser does a decent job at storing these various passwords automatically for you if you so choose; however it doesn’t work on all sites. It’s also a rather blatant security risk of you are using a laptop computer that you could possibly lose. Not to mention that you aren’t always surfing on the same machine and, from time to time, you need to update your system in a way that obliterates these stored nuggets. So what does the average user do – writes these passwords down somewhere.

Now what we have is a situation where your passwords are automatically entered by your personal browser as well as written down in a wonderful list form that could easily be misplaced or stolen. How, might I ask, is this increasing security…?

bis später,

Coriolis

There Really Oughtn’t

I hate people.

Okay, so that statement might be taken the wrong way by many – oh wait, that statement most definitely will be taken the wrong way. Whatever… The fact of the matter is that I, for one, have basically reached the end of my line when it comes to the myriad of idiots in our society these days. And I’m not about to claim that I am smarter than everyone else – far from it! What I am wondering is exactly how have we (the “normal” people) let the admittedly few douche-bags of society have so much power? Or perhaps – as usually seems to be the case – I’m wrong here. I doubt it, but I suppose it’s possible. Hear me out on this…

As I’m sure many of you already know, Penn and Teller have this wonderful show on Showtime named, aptly enough, “Bullshit!” Seeing as I decided long ago not to spend money on any of your premium cable channel offerings (it just seemed like a waste of money to me), it wasn’t until late last year that I stumbled on this show using the rather recently introduced “Instant View” feature on Netflix. Once I discovered it though, I was hooked. Finally! Somebody out there is asking the correct questions and basically showing these scam artists for what they are. Unfortunately, the more I watched, the more I realized what the actual problem is – your average Joe Schmo (at least the one’s living in America today) is more than willing to throw away any and all common sense for the opportunity to believe pretty much anything. If the bullshit were true, life would seem better; therefore people relish the idea of taking blind faith in the bullshit. Whatever happened to demanding proof? Have we honestly turned into a society where belief in ideas has become more important than the search for truth?

And what the fuck is with this latest rash of husbands going to rehab for “sex addiction”? Come on … sex addiction?! Are you kidding me?? There is no such thing as sex addiction. What’s next? We’re going to be treating people for oxygen addiction or food addiction (oh wait, that second one already exists…)? I hate to say it, but if the male of our species weren’t “addicted” to sex, you and I (and pretty much the entire human population) probably wouldn’t be here. The problem is not that these guys have an addiction; it’s that they have a penis. Personally, I consider these guys weak. I’ve written about this before and my opinion remains unchanged. Society attempting to justify infidelity as a disease, however, is pure bullshit.

But that’s what we’re looking for, right? – A way to justify our actions without having to actually legitimize them. That way we can do whatever we want and pass any consequences onto somebody else. For these “sex addicts”, it’s not their fault – they’re the real victims here. I guess if they did the impossible and didn’t sleep around on their wives they might have had to suffer blue balls for a bit. Sure, they could easily alleviate this on their own (it’s called masturbation and man has been doing it since man has been…); but I guess that’s too much to ask of these alpha males. No … it’s far better to give them a pass and let them do what they do so well – it’s not like they’ve promised not to do it… Marriage, after all, is such a dated concept.

Then there’s this new fad (and “fad” is how I would best describe it) where peer groups and, even more disturbingly, school officials are being blamed for teenage suicides. Now I understand how somebody committing suicide always has a devastating effect on those that loved them; however when was it decided that the best way to deal with these tragedies was to find somebody else to blame? We’ve all been teenagers. We all know what teenagers need to go through. For those that forgot, it’s called “growing up”. Each of us had our own unique experiences during this period and each of us found ways to cope. Unfortunately, this journey is more difficult for some; but that’s life. Holding friends (or enemies) and teachers responsible when a teenager fails to cope accomplishes nothing more than passing the feeling of failure (because I’m sure that’s what the parents feel) onto somebody else.

So what we end up with is kids being punished for being kids and adults being punished for not being able to see the future. And how, exactly, should we punish these (what should I call them?) “accomplices” for the extremely vague crime that they are supposedly guilty of? Throw ‘em in jail, perhaps? Oh, I know, let’s make the school pay millions of dollars to the kid’s parents – that’s almost as good as a resurrection I suppose… After all, the kid would still be alive if the school did its job … right?

But that’s not exactly what I’m on about and before I get too far off subject, let me return. The point I am eager to get out there is that people need to stop taking often asinine claims as truth based purely on faith. And yes, I include all religions in this basket as well. We are currently living in the most scientifically advanced era that this blue-green sphere we have chosen to call Earth has ever seen. Why, I ask, are so many people almost eager to ignore basically everything we’ve learned to get us here? Fear of the unknown is no excuse to act like a lemming…

I watched the latest episode of South Park last night – the “Medicinal Fried Chicken” episode – and almost died laughing. That show always does a wonderful job of pointing out the absurdity of our culture, usually in an even more absurd way – men purposely contracting prostate cancer in order to legally purchase weed … classic… This is yet one more example of what I am getting at. I’ve been to Amsterdam. I lived for nine months in Germany where (and I doubt many of you are aware of this) it is perfectly okay to posses up to 10g of marijuana for your personal use. They understand the dangers (or lack there of) associated with letting people smoke grass if they so choose. However here, in the “land of the free”, you’re not allowed to – although, in more and more states, this restriction is only being placed on healthy people. Now how stupid is that…?

And it all goes back to somebody, somewhere, insisting that some fact existed (smoking marijuana is a “gateway drug” for instance – that always cracks me up…) supporting whatever agenda (usually religious – always about controlling others…) they want to push. What this oftentimes results in is a loss of freedom and it’s looking more and more like nobody cares. The anti-smokers out there have basically outlawed smoking (any and all, not just pot) in pretty much any public area (if this hasn’t hit where you live yet, just wait – it will) using lies. They blatantly over-exaggerate the effects of breathing secondhand smoke to make it seem like this nuisance to them is life threatening for all. It’s not and nobody is insisting that anybody stay in an uncomfortable environment – I’m sure nobody would miss these tight-ass, presumptuous kill-joys if they decided to leave the bar… But making it illegal for all to smoke … isn’t that going a bit too far…?

I don’t know … perhaps I’m missing something here. Did I miss the meeting where it was decided that everybody should stop considering others and just assume that whatever belief system they’ve decided to subscribe to is the only valid viewpoint that exists, even when this system is based on nothing more than pure faith? As Penn Jillette so often puts it, “When somebody says ‘there ought to be a law,’ there probably oughtn’t.”

bis später,

Coriolis

Public Transportation in L.A.!?

There’s an unexpected – or at least “previously unknown to me” – advantage to the location of my new apartment (the one I’m moving to in a couple of weeks). It seems that it is located easily within walking distance of the LA Metro “Orange Line”. What this translates to is that, theoretically, I should now be able to get around Los Angeles without needing to put Precious (my ’02 Trans-Am Firehawk for those just joining this discussion…) at risk on the mean streets that are the freeways of the L.A. Metropolitan Area. This, as anyone who’s had the privilege to partake in this madness knows, is a good thing … a very good thing…

All I now need to do is figure out the system. I think I’ve made quite a bit of progress in the last few days by investigating the Metro.net website (we’re between tapeouts here at work which gives me plenty of free time…); although I am still a bit confused – mainly with the fares, passes, and this thing known as “TAP”. I’ve even been able to (at least I think…) find two bus lines that I could basically take to work. If I’m correct with my research, then I do believe I’m going to once again become a frequent user of public transportation as I so easily was able to do during the time I spent in Europe. Now granted, this depends greatly on whether or not I have successfully cracked the Enigma code that is the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority. Here’s what I’ve surmised thus far…

The two lines that I should be able to use to commute to and fro work are the LA County Metro Local line 161 and the aptly named Commuter Express line 422. Both lines (as well as a few other intermediate local Metro lines) were presented to me via the Metro Trip Planner tool. All I did was enter my apartment address as the start point and my work address as the destination. This got me the 161 line. The 422 line was discovered after messing around with the day and time settings a bit and increasing the maximum walking distance. It soon started looking like the Commuter Express (line 422) was my best bet as the travel time was somewhere on the order of half that reported for the 161 line. I decided to check out the maps and timetables for these routes to see why this was, exactly…

I was able to find both a map and timetable for the Metro Local 161 line directly on the Metro website. The 422 line, however, was mysteriously absent. The reason for this is because the Commuter Express lines are actually part of the LADOT (The City of Los Angeles Department of Transportation) system as opposed to the LACMTA system covered by the Metro.net site. The trip planner found on the Metro.net site includes connections utilizing the LDOT (Commuter Express lines – perhaps DASH lines too although I haven’t checked this yet…) routes as well. It’s very convenient although a bit more explanation might be helpful to us newbies there… I was able, in time, to find the map and schedule for the 422 route through the LADOT website.

These two routes differ in a couple key areas. Although the Commuter Express 422 route is actually a somewhat quicker trip (it has fewer stops than the local 161 route), it has the disadvantage of having a much more restricted service schedule. It only travels from the San Fernando Valley (where my new apartment is) to Westlake Village (the location of my work) on weekdays between the hours of ~6:00am until ~8:30am and the return trip utilizing this route would need to be done between ~2:15pm and ~6:45pm. Buses basically run every 20 minutes within these hours and this route is not available on weekends.

By contrast, the Metro Local 161 route (although the trip could take up to an hour) is usable throughout the day from about 5:45am until approximately 8:30pm for my commute each and every day – weekend and holiday service is a bit more limited, however it is available. The main problem with this route is that the buses are far less frequent – runs are scheduled with as few as one run per hour at times. I do however believe that I should be able to figure out an optimal routine utilizing these two routes in time. If only I could figure out the fare issues…

You see, that’s currently what I’m trying to make sense of. It’s rather obvious that I could pay for each trip with cash (exact change only) and keep track of any transfer fees I would need to purchase; however carrying the amount of coins this would require would quickly become a nuisance. What I’m looking to do is purchase some sort of monthly pass that would allow me to use the public transportation systems easily. When I was in Braunschweig, this was easy to do – I purchased a monthly pass at the train station that allowed me to take any bus or tram in the city without hassle. I was even able to figure this out without speaking any German – the system was very user-friendly. Here in L.A. – where I speak one of the common languages rather fluently – it’s quite a bit more complicated … or at least it currently appears so to me…

So I’m pretty sure that what I need to get for my standard work commute is an EZ Transit Pass (“Good for travel on Metro bus, Metro Rail and many additional carriers”) and one EZ Premium Stamp (in order to travel between the “San Fernando Valley” and “Thousand Oaks / Agoura Hills” zones on the 422 Commuter Express line); but what the heck is all this nonsense about a TAP card? Apparently “all Metro passes are now sold on TAP” which is “a durable plastic card you can use again and again.” That’s great for the Metro passes; but what about the EZ Transit Pass? Since this pass appears to be equivalent to a Metro Monthly Pass with additional features (allows travel on additional carriers outside of the Metro system – LADOT, to be more precise…), am I correct in thinking that this card can be used in lieu of a TAP card for intra-Metro travel? I suppose I should call somebody and ask about this…

Whatever the case, it now looks like I’ll have something to occupy myself with once I move into my next apartment. I suppose this is good as my standard routine of doing basically nothing during my free time has become excruciatingly boring. Add to that the sure excitement I’m bound to experience with the myriad of tasks that need to be completed upon my move – furnishing the apartment and such – and it looks like an absolute flurry of activity is soon to be heading my way. Who knows? Maybe I can turn all this into something positive…? The ability to get out and about whilst avoiding the need to drive in the L.A. gridlock sounds like a nice start to me.

bis später,

Coriolis

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

I’ve decided to find a bit more appropriate housing for myself next month. Not that I haven’t been enjoying the ability I’ve had of late to easily increase my overall net worth; I think, however, it’s due time for me to start living like the soon to be 40 year old man that I am. And what that means is that I really need to be moving out of the room I currently reside in and moving into an apartment – a place of my own. I’ve already found the place and am scheduled to be moving to the valley (the San Fernando Valley, that is … like, totally…) on the 10th of April.

I know, “big deal,” right? Well I guess it isn’t. It’s just the next adventure that this rather dull, increasingly lonely life that I lead has in store for me. As for the myriad of details associated with this move go, I’m beginning to wonder if I can cope. It all just seems like way too much hassle for yet one more thing that, to be completely honest, I really don’t “want” to do. But I’ve learned that life – at least my life – really doesn’t give a shit whether the tasks it throws at me are things I want, it’s going to bombard me with ‘em anyway. I suppose that feeling of control over my life that I once had after returning from Germany a few years back was only an illusion. I guess this next move could be seen as a desperate attempt to once again rein in my out of control life; to regain control and return to creating my life rather than just living it. I just hope I can survive…

The funny, somewhat interesting, rather pathetic and quite sad thing is that this is far from the first time I’ve traveled down this road. Hell, since becoming a college grad, I’ve “lived” (for a minimum of seven months) at 12 different “permanent” addresses in 9 different cities, 5 separate states and 2 unique countries. Granted there are many out there that these figures seem somewhat minuscule; however, for a guy who’s initial plan was to get married and live somewhere (perhaps with a family, perhaps just as a couple) happily ever after, it’s approximately 11 addresses too many. For god’s sake, I OWN a house in Colorado! I own a house and have once again begun the process of moving. Will it ever end…?

Oh well … as it currently stands, I’ve got quite a bit that I need to do in order to successfully accomplish this latest move. That’s the worst part about all these moves – they seem to be getting more and more complicated as time goes by. My first half-dozen or so moves were actually pretty simple – I didn’t own much and all that was required was to get my small amount of possessions transported to my new address then arrange for television and internet service to be furnished. It doesn’t get much simpler than that. All my moves were repeats of this same process until I finally bit the bullet and bought a house in ’01. That was, theoretically, supposed to be my last move. I’ve already moved three times since…

My plan has been to keep the house in Colorado, live on the cheap wherever I end up needing to go and, after the stars finally re-align themselves making it possible for me to live in Colorado again, move back into my house. Seemed like a good plan to me when I first decided to implement it some three and a half years ago; however I am now realizing that this plan is flawed in some very fundamental ways.

I attempted to address one of these weaknesses – the problem of property upkeep – by fool heartedly letting my buddy Todd live in my house (rent-free, mind you…) whilst I was living and working in California. The mess that is property upkeep of a house that one is not living in had become evident to me upon my return from Germany. For some reason (ignorance, I suppose) I was under the impression that leaving my house empty during the time I was away in Germany (and subsequently the time I spent with the family afterword – a total of about one full year) would not be an issue. I was wrong about this (check out my earlier post, Smoking Marathon, for more) and actually feel a bit silly about my initial naivety. The obviousness of the stupidity of such an impression is very clear to me now…

But I digress … having Todd actually living in my house would avoid this problem – or so I thought. I figured that we could help each other out – Todd needed a place to live and I could use somebody to take care of my house. This, of course, ended badly as anybody who’s ever been foolish enough to believe a living situation similar to this wouldn’t end badly has assuredly learned. Never, and I do mean never, let anybody live in your house rent free. All it’s going to do is give said person a false feeling of entitlement and, once this has set in, you can forget about your wishes having any import. Once Todd started taking advantage of his side of our deal with little to no concern for the upkeep of my house, I was forced to kick him out. It’s a long story involving alcohol, misguided machismo, some extremely poorly rationalized statements and the Longmont Police; however the end result was that I was forced to kick Todd out. This of course meant that my house was once again abandoned. I needed to do something about that…

So now I own a rental property in Colorado (okay … I actually own a mortgage to a rental property in Colorado to be more precise). My former abode of dwelling is still sitting atop this property however somebody else’s family is living in it. PML (Property Management of Longmont) has been tasked with this property’s maintenance and upkeep and any and all repair costs are passed on for me to pay as well as a small percentage of the rent that goes to PML as a maintenance fee. It’s a pretty good arraignment so far even though I am, at best, only able to recoup approximately 2/3 of my mortgage payment each month – sometimes much less depending on repair costs… Bottom line is that I am dropping a decent amount of money each month already – long before I factor in the cost of housing for me out here in California. If the housing market ever gets back on its feet again, I should however be able to make back the difference (and then some, hopefully…) with the equity I am retaining. I suppose only time will tell on this gambit…

Getting back to the main point of this article, this mortgage ownership that I have has thrown a bit of a monkey-wrench into my usual new rental procedure. It’s actually simplified some things quite a bit as I ended up basically tossing out a large majority of my possessions after asking Todd to leave. And by a “large portion”, I do in fact mean a large portion. Of all my possessions that I had in my house, exactly one 5’x9’ storage unit of stuff is left – my home entertainment system (sans television set), a half-stack, my guitar, a few boxes of clothing and a file cabinet of primarily financial documents. This storage unit (located in a Public Storage in Longmont), along with the stuff I am living with here in California, is everything I now own. In other words, I am now going to need to do some shopping just to furnish the new, two-bedroom, two-bath apartment I am moving to next month. I am also going to need to arrange shipment of the stuff I have stored in Longmont. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth the hassle…

I don’t know, perhaps I’m just suffering your standard buyer’s remorse. It wasn’t until rather recent that I was finally able to get myself out from under a substantial amount of credit card debt. I’m very proud to now be able to announce that I am completely, 100% credit-card debt free! Getting here has taught me what I would consider a very valuable lesson – live within your means and do not, under any circumstances, buy shit on credit. I’ve made a complete U-turn when it comes to spending and now only buy things AFTER I have saved up enough money to purchase them. The absolute best way to use credit cards is actually to NOT use them. It almost seems too simple now – why would I want to pay more for something than it actually costs? That is exactly what you are doing when you charge something and keep any balance on your card at the end of the month. Now I realize that my readers are smart people and I’m not telling you anything you did not already know; however it was shocking to see the financial condition that the younger me was able to get myself into. I’m trying my best not to let history repeat itself here…

Now my current situation is great for me, financially. Living where I do (basically a room in a boarding house) is cheap. Very cheap when you consider it’s located in Thousand Oaks. So whipty-doo, I can increase my net worth. However in doing so, I have basically put my life (admittedly dull as it is…) on hold. I wake up, spend a rather large portion of my day at work, spend the remainder of the day in my little room, go to bed and repeat. Weekends are very similar except that, often times, the work portion can be removed. And yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “What’s stopping me from doing more?” You obviously have never lived in Thousand Oaks…

There’s this site name Walk Score where you can enter any address and see how walkable it would be to live there. It basically gives you listings of nearby attractions and how close they are to the address entered. It also gives you a score from 1-100 that rates your address. My boarding house rates 29 out of 100 – “Car-Dependent”. By contrast, the apartment complex I am moving to in Woodland Hills gets a score of 80 – “Very Walkablke”. The way I see it, having the ability to walk places might get me out more. Not to mention that the walking would give me some exercise – something that I have let slip seriously since moving to T.O. Will this pan out in the end? I don’t know, but I’m willing to try…

Apart from the location of my new place, there’s also the much more prudent aspect that it will be MY place. I will once again be able to go grocery shopping. Not that I can’t buy groceries now; however I’m basically limited to one shelf in the fridge to store my groceries. I have been told that I could use the kitchen for cooking; but the whole communal-living aspect of it all is very uncomfortable for me. I’ve done the “living in a frat house” thing long ago; I think I’m past that now…

Also, assuming I am able to get the place furnished correctly, I will no longer feel that I should be spending all of my time at home cramped up in my bedroom. No, far from it, I will be able to watch television in my living room, hang out on one of the two balconies that look out at the pool and communal area of the complex, heck … I can even head down to the gym and get a decent workout. Anyway you look at it, having a place of my own again should make me feel a bit more normal.

But it all comes at a cost and that’s what I’m having a hard time justifying to myself. Don’t get me wrong, I currently can afford it – rather easily, actually. That being said, this apartment will be costing me 3.5-4 times what I am currently paying for room and board. It’s not chicken feed… Even if the unforeseen happens (say I lose my job before the 12-month lease is done), I currently have enough cash in the bank to cover the rent; but then all that work I did at obtaining this savings would have been for naught. It wouldn’t be good, but I just need to consider that it would be survivable. After all, what’s the use of earning this money if you’re going to sacrifice your life in order to keep it, right? I think my attempt at shocking my life back into existence is long overdue. Here goes nothing…

bis später,

Coriolis

Ahh, Now I Get It

Precious has returned home to me, amazingly enough, with no huge hiccups to bitch about. Sure, I needed to finish securing the trim on the inside of the rear hatch and the plastic wire that used to secure the gas cap to the little gas cap door no longer does; however this is miles ahead of what I went through a bit under a year ago when I last got her back from Paradise. Yesterday I even installed my replacement CD changer that I was finally able to find online for a mere $615 – keeping nothing but original parts on Precious can be expensive at times... Now that I’m able to once again eject my disc cartridges, I spent last evening creating another 12 discs of random music from my rather extensive collection of what I guess one would refer to as oldies – you know … your late 70’s thru early 90’s rock that, not too long ago, was considered “garbage” by our parents. You know you’re getting old when you hear a song from some group on the radio and complain about their “new stuff” not being as good as their older, far superior tunes then take notice that the station you’re listening to is billed as “the best classic rock in the greater L.A. area!” and the new tune you just berated is over 20 years old! What can I say? I knows what I likes and I ain’t about to buy that this modern, cookie cutter, electronically pitch-enhanced, American Idol inspired bullshit that the music industry is trying to justify as actual music is anything but the crap that it is. Hmm … perhaps I am getting a bit crotchety in my mid age…

But that’s neither here nor there … I got my car back. I’m tempted to start an office pool on how much time will pass before I am once again forced to rely on rentals (with the way my luck goes, I’d be tempted to bet large on “not very long”…) however for now, at least, I am able to drive the car that I purchased so many years ago. I’m living the dream…

Unfortunately, apart from the return of Precious, this dream I’m living as of late is a pure nightmare. I’m constantly pissed off at everything (and I do mean “everything” … I’ve begun flipping off my television set … this makes no sense – it’s not like the “people in the box” can even see me or anything – however there I am, time and time again, flipping the bird to my Sony Bravia often accompanied by some choice words at the moronic drivel that seems to constantly ooze forth from it…), I’m in what could best be described as a perpetual bad mood and the worst part about all this is that I see no end for this anywhere on the horizon. I do have a trip back home for Christmas and New Year’s coming in a bit over a week; but apart from that, nothing. I own a house (well, I “own” a mortgage) in Colorado that is currently being enjoyed by someone else’s family. I’m living in (and paying rent for) a room here in California which seriously limits any possibilities I might have at wooing any women – “Shall we take this back to my place … oh wait, strike that. Could I interest you in perhaps getting a hotel room tonight?” – although I suppose bitching about this is moot … let’s face it, I’m much more likely to find the Holy fucking Grail than I am to find a woman that would consider me sponge-worthy. This fact has been rather forcefully made clear to me in the past couple of months. I seem to have lost my will to live. I mean, what’s the point?

I suppose this is just life though. You do your best to get through these ebbs in an attempt to ride the next wave as far as you can before inevitably crashing down again, a bit more beaten, a bit less youthful and, if you’re not careful, a bit less human. The wise rely on support from their friends whereas the friendless slowly fade away and become nothing more than vague memories. My list of friends here in Cali has always been short. It currently contains nobody…

Oh well, what’s one to do about it? (Or, more to the point, what am I to do about it???) I wish I had an answer to that question – really I do – but unfortunately I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t continue to do nothing for much longer. I’m afraid I’m going to end up becoming one of those screwy head cases that you sometimes run into mumbling some sort of anamnesis to himself in words completely disconnected from all relevance however important enough for him to be repeated ad nauseum with complete disregard to even the existence of others. Holy shit! That’s what this blog is … the ramblings of a madman. Please don’t tell me my life’s dwindled to nothing more than occasionally posting my completely useless thoughts to a blog with no readers … I don’t think I could sufficiently deal with that reality…

bis spatter,

Coriolis

Why Me…?

So Precious – my ’02 Firehawk – is back at Paradise Body & Paint again. It was a little over a year ago that she made her first trip to meet Bob (back in Doh!) and I was pretty much hoping that it would be smooth sailing from then ‘til I ever decided to sell my Precious. It was a lofty dream and reality is what it is. A bit over a month ago, as I was attempting to merge with the traffic jam that is the 101 on each and every afternoon rush-hour, I got rear-ended by this rather nice lady and her Mercedes SUV. Have I ever mentioned how much I love living here in southern California…?

The collision actually occurred on the 7th of October. As you can easily tell by the post-date of this article, it is now the 17th of November. From what I have been able to gather by speaking with Bob at Paradise and through the several conversations I’ve had with Regina – the claims representative assigned to my case by Encompass Insurance – I do believe that work has at least been started on my car by now. I suppose that’s progress … I’m always amazed at the absolute lack of respect one gets from so-called “professional” businesses these days. Has it always been like this or is this just another symptom of the disease that our modern society has become? To further explain my query, here’s the whole story…

First off, the entrance ramp to north 101 from northbound Lindero Canyon Blvd. – like many of the US Hwy 101 entrance ramps – is pretty much an “accident waiting to happen.” It’s one of those 270°, downward sloping, right-hand curved ramps that ends up going directly under the overpass of the street you are exiting. In this case, the street being exited (Lindero Canyon Blvd.) is a standard inner-city type divided highway and the road you are entering is a 65 MPH interstate freeway. One would think that an acceleration lane of ample length would be provided after the 270° curve to aid in the high-speed merging process; however one would then not be a southern California civil engineer – I think you’re given somewhere around 30 feet or so in reality. Suffice it to say that there’s really not enough room given to merge here in heavy traffic…

As I was attempting this merge last month (something I had done many times before but rarely with ease…), I accelerated into the right-hand lane of the freeway speeding up to match the flow of traffic. It was then that the car I was merging behind slammed on their brakes. I’m still not sure why this extreme deceleration was necessary – probably one of those far-to-common chain-reaction events caused by some idiot ahead – but my only option was to slam on my brakes and prepare for impact. I watched the rear of the car ahead disappear from view and waited for the crunch. It took me a couple moments to realize that the crunch I heard came from the SUV behind me smashing into my rear. Although I must have missed my target by no more than the skin of my teeth, I did not crash into the car in front of me. The lady behind me wasn’t as lucky…

We (I and the now leaking SUV behind me) pulled off to the right shoulder, contacted the police, exchanged information, had both our vehicles towed (mine was on a flatbed, of course) and I ended that excitement by getting a ride home by the very nice flatbed driver – turns out that my place was on the way to where the holding yard was. I was told that I could file an “over the counter” police report the next day, provided the address to do so (I guess the cop at the scene wanted to avoid the paperwork himself) and given a signed confession from Alison (the very nice lady that hit me). My plan was to contact my insurance, get Precious moved back over to Bob at Paradise – mainly because he was already well versed in dealing with this car – then order up a rental car to be used while waiting for the repair to be completed. I would set this plan in motion the next morning … it was too late to get anything started that evening…

Upon contacting my insurance, it was decided that my best move would be to open a claim directly with Alison’s insurance – Encompass. As fault was not questionable in this accident, there really was no reason for me to involve my insurance at all. I had already filed a rather substantial claim about a year ago and was trying my best to avoid any increase in my premiums. I figured leaving my insurance out of this completely was a good idea. As a “just in case” measure, I did head down to the CHP station and filed an OTC accident report later that day. It was yet one more incident that demonstrates the pure contempt that many of today’s police officers have toward the citizens they are supposed to be working for. Here’s how that event unfolded…

I approached the counter and informed the officer that I was instructed by the responding officer, the evening before, that I could head to this office and file an OTC accident report – that was my reason for being there. It seemed that I was disturbing his television viewing schedule (there was a TV mounted on the wall that appeared to have no other use than to entertain this officer during his work hours) although he diverted his eyes from the set long enough to grab an empty traffic collision report form, quickly cross out large sections of it, highlight what he wanted me to fill in and tell me to write a description of what happened on the back. I then showed the signed, written confession I had obtained from Alison and requested that it be included in the report and started filling out the sections marked. I was then told that I needed to go get pictures of the damage to my car before I would be allowed to file the report. I shrugged this off and continued filling out the collision report form…

Everything I could remember was written in my accident description – including the responding officer’s name and badge number. I also made mention of the self-written, signed confession of guilt that was provided to me by the other driver. After finishing the report, I started heading back out to my rental car a bit peeved that I was being asked to waste more of my time obtaining pictures that I saw as being completely useless. The officer said that he needed the pictures to show that an accident actually occurred; even though I had the name and badge number of the responding officer as well as a signed confession by the other driver. I decided then that these pictures were unnecessary; turned around and headed back in to the office.

After patiently waiting for this same officer to finish an extremely important discussion he was having with another officer about some purely non-work-related subject (I forget what they were talking about – something about some chick or sporting event or the like; whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t more important that doing what they’re being paid for...), I informed said officer that I believed the pictures to be unnecessary and wanted to file the report as it stood. He then rather insolently asked me how he knew an accident even occurred. To this I suggested that he could inquire with the responding officer and pointed out the name and badge number written in the report. As a second, and perhaps much more obvious proof, I had a signed confession for the other party in the accident. I once again reiterated my belief that the pictures were overkill at best and requested that the report be filed.

It was then that my interfering with his television watching and socializing activities apparently pissed him off a bit. I distinctly remember him saying that I could “ask” him to file the report but I had no authority to “tell” him to file it. Personally, I’m pretty sure that I do have the authority to file a report whenever I feel like it being that I am a legal, taxpaying citizen of this country – granted I could get myself into quite a bit of trouble by filing false reports; however this cop – as seems to be a far too prevalent these days – appears to be suffering from a bad case of superiority complex. I returned his blatant threat with, “Pretty please, will you file this report?” He then sat down at his desk and filed the report for me.

I really cannot tell you how dismayed I’ve become of late about the seemingly endless contempt that law enforcement officers (and not just the cops, but the whole American legal system) seem to have to the populace they are supposed to be protecting. The way that presumption of innocence has turned into a dated concept really bothers me to no extent. But I digress … although the deterioration of the rights we Americans currently possess is an interesting topic, it’s not what I came to bitch about today. I’ll get back to my story…

Okay, so I’ve done my best to make sure that I am, in no way, able to be shown at fault in this accident. Whether or not that even means anything these days is yet to be seen however I’ve gone way out of my way to clear my name in case it becomes an issue. The goal now becomes getting Precious adequately repaired with little to no cost on my part. I contact Encompass Insurance and file a claim. Here’s where the fun begins…

Everything seems to go fine from the start: I successfully get Precious dropped off at Paradise Body & Paint and, after being informed by Regina at Encompass that I would be allotted $25 per day for a rental vehicle during the repairs, decide to switch out my initial rental car (obtained from the Thousand Oaks Avis for $30.99 per day) to a rental from the Avis that Paradise works with for $25.99 per day. It’s still more than the insurance is willing to pay – a fact that I will address later – however it looks to be saving me $5 a day from what I could possibly be held responsible for. Whatever … I suppose I need to do what I need to do. I now need to wait for Encompass to complete an appraisal of the damage before the body shop can begin the work. How long could this take, right…?

At this point, I’m set. I’ve got a rental car to use whilst Precious is in the shop and all I need to do now is wait for that call telling me she’s ready to be picked up, right? One would think … but in today’s world, no frickin’ way. It’s somewhere around a week after my poor, wounded car is delivered to the body shop when I finally decide to call in and see how things are going. What I’m basically told is that they’re not going – something about the appraisal being insufficient for the work required and there being some need for another appraisal to fix the problems with the first … yadda yadda yadda and blah blah blah… I figured I best call Encompass and get their side of things…

I call and – as what will become the norm with trying to contact Regina – am greeted by a voice-mail message that informs me what day it is, what the working hours for Regina are and that I should leave a message with my name, contact number and claim number so that she would be able to get back with me prior to the end of the business day. I leave the requested information. No call is returned prior to the end of her business day nor the complete morning on the day after. I decide to try contacting her again in the early afternoon of the next day and get a bit lucky – she answers the call. I inquire with her about the status of my claim and am told the standard “song and dance” that everyone gets – their appraiser was sent to the body shop and an appraisal was filed. I explain that the body shop is telling me that the appraisal is insufficient for the work required and get the standard response that they are, by law, required to repair the car to a condition prior to the accident and that, since my car was an ’02 model, the appraisal would not include any improvements. It was then that I tried to explain to Regina that my car was a rare, limited edition collector’s item that I had kept as close to pristine as I could. It was, in no way whatsoever, your typical ’02 car. I was doing my best to convey that they were not going to get away with low-balling the repair and they might as well cut their losses (I reminded her that Encompass was paying for my rental as long as this repair took) and pay for the repairs needed. She then FAXed the appraisal for me to look over…

What I got was an initial appraisal of $6989.96 for repairs. This was the official appraisal dated 10-12-09. Interestingly enough, there was also a supplemental adjustment of -$1436.93 dated two days later. I was confused by this and decided to call Bob at the body shop. He received the same thing and this was actually the problem he was referring to on my initial contact with him. The fourteen hundred dollar savings was the removal of a replacement quarter panel from the initial appraisal. Bob was told that he needed to repair the current quarter panel when the second appraisal was filed since, as it appears, the first appraisal was seen as too expensive by Encompass – even though this was what the appraiser priced it at. Luckily Bob refused to do it and insisted that a new quarter panel was required. In his expert opinion – an opinion that was apparently shared by the initial appraisal – the quarter panel was beyond repair and needed to be replaced.

Since then, there have been a couple more (at least) appraisals filed that seem to (trying to make sense of this paperwork is next to impossible for me) bring the total price for repair up to $7475.75. That’s actually more than the initial appraisal – which I find rather interesting – and the new quarter panel has been added back in. From what Bob has informed me, the quarter panel has been ordered from Canada and should currently be at the shop. He told me it was the absolute last one available. It also appears that the rear Firehawk decal is no longer available which bums me out a bit; but I’m hoping to at least be getting my car back sometime soon. Unfortunately I actually have no idea whether or not this will happen…

As of Friday evening, I’m heading back to Michigan for a week. Last time I spoke with Bob, I was told that he wouldn’t have the car completed by Friday. I need to return my rental car then though, so I’m hoping that my car will get completed prior to my return. The reason I’m hoping this is because I was actually able to get Encompass to put my rental on a direct bill to them – not an easy task, mind you… Of course Avis called me earlier today and informed me that Encompass was under the impression that I had been renting this car since the 4th of November. Seeing as it was actually the 8th of October, I think they’re not going to be too happy. Lynette (Regina’s boss) did tell me that they would take the rental cost as a direct bill due to the ungodly amount of time that this repair is taking thanks in large part to delays caused directly by Encompass. Yeah … something tells me this isn’t going to go too smoothly… Anyway, I’m hoping to be able to get Precious back on my return as to avoid the need to get another rental. As if my luck was ever that good…

Oh well, that’s the latest cluster-fuck that I’m being forced to deal with. I hate my life…

bis später,

Coriolis

No Good Deed …

And that’s that, I guess… The DA has dropped the charges. This actually occurred earlier this month but I never bothered to write anything about it. The lessons learned from this ordeal: 1) never fight the power when too inebriated to remember the details; 2) the activity you get involved in isn’t nearly as important as who you surround yourself with whilst partaking of aforementioned activity – you never know when you’re going to be needing to rely on the ability of these others to make correct decisions; 3) the police don’t care about anything beyond the present (they’re actually very short-sighted in their decision making processes) and I suppose this is an inevitable circumstance with what their jobs entail – not necessarily good, but somewhat expected; and most importantly, 4) private legal counsel has become a necessity in this country if you even have a prayer at getting any sort of justice.

Granted I am still relying on quite a few assumptions here. I still have absolutely no recollection of the night I got my ass thrown in jail; however I have received and reviewed police reports from both the Longmont Police Department as well as the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office. The report from Longmont mentions that the officers were speaking with Todd after his accident on my cell phone. I guess that explains the calls that were logged on my phone from Todd lasting somewhere between 3-5 minutes in length. It also mentions that they were, with the help from the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office, able to find and pick up Todd later that morning. They don’t really say too much about me other than that I was intoxicated. Nothing was mentioned about transporting me anywhere and I’m still a bit fuzzy on why or how I even ended up at the ARC (Addicts Recovery Center) in Boulder.

The Boulder County report is much more interesting. It starts out with two officers responding to a call from the ARC about a client that was brought in by Longmont PD (me) getting unruly and “out of control”. It appears that I was not cooperating with the concept of staying in my room and “sleeping it off”.

Now here’s where I start making some assumptions on exactly what was going on. First off, I’m pretty sure that I was tricked into being taken to the ARC by the Longmont police. I can guarantee that I would not have volunteered to go there being that I had a perfectly good room (which I was actually paying for) in the hotel where the Longmont police first met me. Perhaps they suggested I join them in their search for Todd who, as you remember, had recently crashed his car somewhere in the foothills? I have no idea exactly what occurred, but the response by the Boulder Officers at the ARC was noted as occurring at 2:01 am. As a reference, this is about an hour and a half after the calls logged from Todd on my phone. As one more data point, the employee of the ARC stated that he was trying to get me to cooperate for 30 minutes prior to calling the police. This leaves somewhere around an hour for the Longmont police to pick me up at the Radisson Hotel in Longmont and drop me off at the ARC in Boulder (at most a 15 minute drive away).

It’s all speculation by me; however how exactly was this hour spent? Did we (the Longmont police and I) actually look for Todd for a bit before they decided to drop me off at the ARC? Was it a straight shot from the hotel to the ARC? Did I resist this ride (even verbally)? If I did, it wasn’t in the police report… You see, this is the hole in the story that I’m afraid will never be filled. If the cops would have just left me at the hotel everything, at least for me, would have been fine. I would have done exactly what I was planning on doing and slept off the booze in my hotel room. Sure, I’d still have the huge hangover the next morning; however it wouldn’t be experienced in jail. Nothing would have been different for Todd either – the police would have found him regardless of whether or not I was taken to the ARC. It seems to me that I did my part in helping Todd from what was written in the Longmont Police Department’s report. Who exactly were they “protecting” by taking me in to the ARC??? Nobody!

So I now understand why I was so pissed off about being at the ARC. Whether drunk or not, I wasn’t endangering anybody. I had a place to sleep that required no more than me stumbling back to the room (no driving was needed) and I’m absolutely positive that that’s what I would have done if given the opportunity. On the contrary, I found myself held captive in some strange building in a completely different city. I did not need to be there and I’m damn sure that I was making that point known to my captors. The result of this is that I ended up getting myself thrown in jail. The Boulder County Sheriff’s report reads like a standard episode of C.O.P.S. I played the typical drunkard and the cops played the classic roles of good cop / bad cop. I was swearing up a storm being asked to cooperate by the good cop and having the bad cop forcefully make me cooperate when I refused to on my own. The black eye and bruised arms must have been gifts from the bad cop…

An interesting side note here is the fact that “Verbally antagonistic” was checked off under the “Triage Questions to be asked by Arresting Agency” section of the police report. The actual question for this response is, “Which best describes arrestee’s behavior with arresting/transporting officers…” The three unselected answers were “Cooperative”, “Non-response” and “Combative”. “Verbally antagonistic” was checked. I don’t know … it just seems to me that I damn well better have been “Combative” to justify the way the “bad cop” decided to handle me… I guess we don’t actually have complete freedom of speech if the cops are allowed to physically injure a suspect being verbally antagonistic.

BUT … it’s all speculation. The bruises were real and I still don’t have any answers for the apparent needle marks on my right arm; however taking speculation from a guy that has no actual recollection of the night’s events to court on a civil case would lead nowhere good. In my mind, it’s all over with now. My spotless criminal record now has a slight blemish. The DA dropped the charges however the arrest remains on my record. I don’t think it’s going to cause any issues in the future but it’s there. It appears that I was, at least in some way, doing my best to help out a friend in need which resulted in my spotlessly clean criminal record acquiring a spot. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess…

bis später,

Coriolis

Green Smoke

So a few days ago I was – rather stupidly – prolonging an absolutely horrible habit that I picked up decades ago in college – I purchased yet another pack of cigarettes. I usually smoke the Marlboro Light 100’s; however CVS was out of stock on these so I opted for the Marlboro Ultra-Light 100’s instead. Due to the popularity (I suppose) of the Marlboro Light 100’s, this is not the first time that I had been forced to make this same concession. Unfortunately my body seems to be somewhat allergic to the Ultra-Lights (it took me many years to finally make that connection) but that doesn’t matter – I needed my nicotine!

Sure enough after “enjoying” a couple of the newly purchased death sticks, the mucus began amassing in my chest and the wonderful hacking/coughing episodes began. I’m not really sure what it is with the Marlboro Ultra-Light’s; however it’s become blatantly clear to me that every time I smoke those I end up with a chest cold that lasts at least a week. Is it possible that this might be an allergic reaction to one of the thousands of malicious, often carcinogenic compounds found in the Ultra-Light’s? (Interestingly enough, it’s only the Ultra-Light’s that do this so consistently … I seem to respond much better to the Light’s…)

I decided to investigate this a bit. I figured I’d see if anyone else out on the “information superhighway” was experiencing a similar bugaboo with the Ultra-Light’s and – as we so often love to do on the Internet – bitching about it. Although my quest for an explanation didn’t find much with regards to why the Ultra-Light’s agreed less with me than my usual Light’s, it did discover something absolutely fascinating! Have you ever heard of electronic cigarettes (aka e-smokes)??? I hadn’t…

I was well aware of the existence of vaporizers. As a means for THC consumption, they were known to me. I never actually used a vaporizer … mainly due to the complication and expense involved with purchasing the vaporizer, warming it up for use (granted I never actually did this, but it seemed to me – back when I actually smoked marijuana – an unnecessarily long process to smoke some weed) and basically inhaling the tasteless water-like vapor. All this to basically get the same results obtained much more easily by just sparking a bowl. I do believe however that these electronic cigarettes have actually addressed these complications and are a much better, much safer and much more convenient nicotine conveyance system than the current socially unacceptable, filthy, repugnant and just plain dangerous technique. And, as an added bonus (as if there needed to be an added bonus to NOT killing yourself), these e-smokes can be enjoyed safely pretty much anywhere – e-smoking is NOT “smoking”…

Currently there are several different brands of e-smokes available. I’m not sure if these can currently be purchased at any physical place of retail in America; however ordering starter kits, batteries, flavored cartridges and accessories online is very easy. The brand I decided to try was Green Smoke. Purely by chance, Green Smoke just happened to be the first e-smoke brand that I came across during my Marlboro Ultra-Light allergy related information quest. The concept intrigued me and information about these e-smokes became my new target of inquiry.

If you search for reviews of Green Smoke (as I did), I believe you will quickly discover what I found – all reviews are positive, almost making this brand of e-smoke sound like absolutely the greatest thing to come around since the discovery of sex itself. Not that any of these reviewers are lying; but I now know why this is. Not only has the team over at Green Smoke created a very good electronic cigarette (granted it’s the only one I’ve ever used – I won’t lie…), they have also created an astonishingly great marketing approach that basically guarantees positive reviews from what I am thinking will be a majority of their customers. Anybody (and I do believe this is “anybody” – customer or not) can become a Green Smoke sales representative free of charge. I did. After becoming a sales rep, you are given access to your own web page with links to everything you would ever need to help you promote your sales of Green Smoke products – and I do mean everything up to and including the kitchen sink.

I’m sure you already noticed the Green Smoke banners I have put up on my blog page, right? Clicking on these banners will, of course, take you to the main Green Smoke homepage; however the page you are actually taken to is my special version of the homepage. Don’t get me wrong, please use these links – I earn commissions through any sales made. An advantage I am able to offer you as well are the following discount codes that can be used at any time:

disc5-4276 – 5% discount on order total
disc10-4276 – 10% discount on order total greater than $100

Whether you use my links or codes is really not that important. I’m not, in any way, fooling myself into believing that I’m going to get rich from sales commissions on somebody else’s product. However, if you currently smoke and are unable to quit (I really do believe that quitting outright is the best course; however I never could…) then I highly recommend investigating the use of e-smokes instead. Heck, even if you aren’t interested in quitting, wouldn’t a far safer, more convenient “smoke” sound somewhat compelling? From all the data I’ve seen, it might just extend your life a few decades…

Now for the sales pitch.



I received my Green Smoke “starter kit” opting for the “5 flavor sampler,” 6mg nicotine cartridges yesterday. The kit I received came with two rechargeable lithium ion batteries (one short and one long), a USB home charger kit with wall adapter and 5 nicotine cartridges flavored tobacco, menthol, chocolate, vanilla and coffee. I completed the initial 8-hour charge (as recommended in the user guide – subsequent charges should only require a couple of hours…) for the long battery last night and have been using the e-smoke throughout the day whilst sitting at my desk. The need to leave my work and wander outside in order to get my nicotine hit is now gone.

I must admit that “smoking” at work still seems a bit strange; however nobody is complaining and, after explaining to the skeptical that what I was exhaling was not smoke and letting them observe first-hand the non-existence of any noxious odors, all of my colleagues have shown nothing but support for my latest choice in a nicotine delivery system. Although walking outside to smoke in the past did keep the second-hand smoke away from everyone else in the office, it didn’t protect anyone from the second-hand stench associated with the average smoker’s clothing. I now solve both issues without even having to leave my desk.

And as far as a replacement for my old habit, the e-smoke route is great! I’ve tried everything else. I’ve paid the $50 for a box of Nicorette multiple times with the end result always being the same – giving in and buying a pack of cigarettes. I’ve worn the patches time and time again only to end up as secondary nicotine sources once the opportunity to go through the habitual motions of the smoking routine returned – and the opportunity always returns… At least with the e-smokes I can continue the routine … without the stench and nefarious chemicals that is…

With the Green Smoke system you can actually choose the strength for your cartridges – all the way down to no nicotine at all. This makes it possible (if one so desires) to gradually reduce your nicotine intake in an effort to get that monkey off your back for good. If you still craved the routine, you could continue with zero nicotine cartridges and still enjoy the variety of flavors available…

So if you’re like me and have been unable to quit smoking no matter what you’ve tried, I strongly encourage you to investigate the electronic smoke alternative. It might just save your life…

bis später,

Coriolis

BINGO! Umm, I mean poker???

A while back I wrote my initial article on the ClubWPT poker site. I have since noticed quite a few visitors on my blog landing on this particular blog and thought it might not be a bad idea to write a follow-up article with a bit more information for anyone interested. I’ve recently begun spending some more time there (for about 6 months or so, I stopped playing online poker completely) and figured people could use some more information than my original post provided.

One thing that appears to have changed is that the people at ClubWPT must have gotten a bit of static from members about the tournaments that “used” to require rather substantial TP (Tournament Point) buy-ins. I say this because I no longer see any tournament scheduled that has a buy-in of more than 500 TPs today. This, of course, invalidates some of what I said in my original article and, in my humble opinion, just plain sucks.

“Why on Earth would anybody be upset about being able to play the big games with a smaller risk?” you might ask. Well I’ll tell ya – it greatly reduces the skill-level of the players involved in the better tournaments by turning what used to be a source of protection against donkeys for the larger games into a blatant invitation. Not only that, but – since everyone is guaranteed no less than 500 TPs at the beginning of each day – turns the satellite tournaments that can be played for seats to these tournaments into moot wastes of time.

As a case in point, I’m scheduled to play a tournament this evening called the WPT Bellagio Super Final tournament. The winner of this tournament will be “off to Las Vegas, NV in April, 2009, to play at the Bellagio in a Super Satellite tournament” along with “$1,380 in cash for travel and spending” – which makes me wonder if the air-fare and hotel are even included – and you’ll be able to “join a top Poker Professional at dinner to discuss strategy and tips for playing in the Big Event.” Of course the “Big Event” here is merely a $2,620 buy-in Super Satellite to the $25,500 buy-in 2009 WPT World Championship which isn’t bad, but it’s not really what they appear to be selling it as…

The thing that irks me a bit about this is that I won a seat in this tourney. I played a satellite with, if memory serves me correctly, a bit over 800 players that awarded a seat in this game to the top 10 finishers (I placed 3rd). I was hoping that ClubWPT would get this correct and only let those that qualified through the rather large number of satellites they ran to play; but no – after finding the tournament listed, I noticed that anybody willing to drop 500 TPs as a buy-in was welcome to join. This of course translates to ANYBODY! Placing in the satellite was just a waste of time… There are currently (some six hours before the tournament starts) 1816 people entered and this number is sure to grow.

That’s just the way it is there. Sure, tournaments do exist that have decent payouts; unfortunately it inevitably ends up being nothing more than a long-shot played against hundreds or thousands of BINGO players and skill becomes secondary at best. I’m just wondering why they wouldn’t create a club environment where skill was rewarded as opposed to the “anyone’s welcome” lottery that they’re currently running. Having the large buy-ins for the big games was a good start however they’ve done away with that.

One other bet that I have most definitely lost was the original comment I made on their user interface. There have been several “updates” made to it since my original article; unfortunately it still sucks! As a matter of fact, I’m a bit confused as to what these “updates” were even for – seems like the same old crappy interface to me. Perhaps I expect too much in a fee-based, online poker club? I wonder how much bank they’re getting from the members as very little of it seems to be going toward improving the membership experience.

But I guess it is what it is. Just don’t go and fool yourself into thinking that this “club” is going to allow you to play against skilled poker players for fabulous prizes because it won’t. And if you’ve ever played any of those “play money” online tournaments, you should know exactly what I’m talking about. What you’re going to get at ClubWPT is the opportunity to sharpen your skills at playing tables filled with donkeys. Unfortunately if you ever get the chance to play in the “real” big games – the high-stakes games played throughout the world in the various real-life casinos – the donkeys will be rather noticeably absent. If you’re a fan of BINGO then ClubWPT is most definitely for you; if you want to play poker though, I believe you’re much better off heading to a casino.

bis später,

Coriolis