The Wasteful Years of Sleep

I was thinking earlier about how I needed to rotate my mattress. Because there are forming in it two large crevasses where my wife and I lie at night. They say you’re supposed to rotate them 90 degrees every once in a while. I guess so you end up making a pound-sign shape on the bed, rather than the symbol of equality. What’s that all about? A conspiracy?

Anyway, that led me to thinking about how much time we spend on the mattress, and why we should purchase a really good one when we do make that purchase. They say you spend a third of your life sleeping. Well, I retorted in my thoughts, I don’t need to spend a third of my salary on a freakin’ mattress! Ha! I showed them, eh? But then I slowed. And I considered. A third of my life. A third. Wow. So what it boils down to is I’ve spent eleven years sleeping, total. A ninety-year-old has spent thirty years of his life sawing logs.

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If I Had a Time Machine

Before we get into the details of how I would use my time machine, I feel the need to expose some technical details to you. There are certain issues one runs into when traveling through time, and these have to be addressed. There are some technical modifications that must be inherent to the machine itself in order to prevent certain things from happening. Some of these are just basic safety features.

For instance. Say if I wanted to travel back in time to 1989 so I could visit Tiananmen Square and watch the protests, I would set my time machine back to the day before it started. I would attach the wrist strap, select the exact time, then I’d click “Insert” on the icon running in the Human Icon application. Now, if my time machine didn’t have a Relative Space-Time Binding Computer built into the architecture, I would arrive at that exact minute I specified, and there’d be no planet beneath me. Forget that the Earth orbits the sun. Remember instead, that the whole of the Solar System (and the Milky Way, beyond that) is moving through space as well. I would appear somewhere in the blackness of space, nowhere near anything terrestrial. That RSTB computer mod basically binds the time to the space, makes calculations based on Earth’s insane kinetic posture, and moves me through space, as well as time. So when I appear on April 15, 1989 at Tiananmen Square, the Earth is actually there underneath me. Relativistic Global Positioning. It’s the new-age, people. I feel sorry for those people who experimented with time machines back in the early 90s, and had to find out the hard way that time and space move separately!

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The Rocket Science of Our Generation

Have you ever noticed that everywhere you go, no matter where you are you – hang on. God that sounded stupid. Let me start that over. No matter where you are, if you’re in a bathroom… Shit. Nevermind. Why do all bathrooms suck so badly?

Specifically, the hardware. Why is it that in every bathroom, no matter how nice the place you go, has trouble with this? THERE! That was the sentence I was trying to say in the beginning. Why is it I had such trouble with that? So you can go into a nice hotel or a fancy restaurant or a shitty little gas station, and if they have stalls in their bathrooms, guess what? They’re either wobbly, or coming off the walls.

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Why I’m So Cynical

Well, I don’t really know why. But I can share with you a few examples of how I’m cynical.

A friend an I were talking about looking at the stars, and I made a joke about it not mattering if there are clouds or not, because the telescope sort of puts you out past the clouds. You’re looking at stuff much further away than the clouds, you see.

I know, it’s a rolleyes for me too. But you’d be surprised at how many people won’t laugh at that joke. But rather say, “Uh, what’s the joke, Spacey?”

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The Mystery of the Keys

I have a keybox mounted in the wall in my secret room. Yes, I built a secret room in my house, because during one of my many excursions into the attic, I noticed an area that didn’t have a ceiling, and there was a bunch of wasted space. So I built it in, utilizing it for something cool. There’s nothing big in there, just my guns and some dirty magazines. You know, the usual. And my keybox. Now this is an American Security Company keybox, mounted between the studs, in my secret room. I have a buddy who works for ASC, so I get a pretty fair discount on their fine products. This keybox is stronger than – well, stronger than something pretty strong. You couldn’t pry it open with a crowbar and a sledgehammer, unless you wanted to.

Anyway, it’s mounted with the lock side right up against a brick wall, so there’s no room to pry it anyway. My point in all this is that you can’t get into that son of a bitch unless you have some dynamite and just a stupid desire to get at my keys. You know, it’d be easier to just steal my car. You know, without the key. Okay, so I’ve told you about the keybox.

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LeeLee Got Awesome!

I used to sort of consider myself an expert on breasts and breast theory. Breastism, as I like to call it. I could tell you if they were fake or real at just a cursory glance. Even half-covered. I based this expertise on the fact that I’ve seen (and felt) so many of them in my day. I’m talking like five or six of them, okay? Yeah. But, as any technology, I guess, so has this one advanced with age.

My God, it's full of stars...Breast implantism. I guess with enough years, and having found the right ingredients, we can expect them to look more and more real as the doctors get better and better at making the fake titties. If you’ve read half of what I’ve written, you know I stand against this. I would take small, funny-shaped saggers over perfectly formed fake ones anyday. And that’s because of how they feel. You can make them look as much like what you think is “the perfect breast” as possible, and if they don’t feel right – meh. I’m out.

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F Bugs

I’m not a paranoid by any means. Never have been. But a man can only find so many bugs in his corn flakes before he finally decides he’s going to have to call an exterminator. Let me explain.

When I was in the military, I worked in a secure office, secure area, razor wire, etc. My work details were classified. They’re not really now. I could safely tell you what I did – it’s no big secret anymore – but meh, no point. Anyway, there were those who wanted to know more of what I did. Not me personally, but my position. People were always trying to find out what we knew. Not because we were so smart, but rather, because they wanted to get to those we protected. The point being, we had to have bug scans every several weeks in our office, as well as our dorms. We lived in the normal dorms, not separated from the rest of the troops, because they didn’t want us to stand out. But we kind of stood out when the guy would come by once a month with a fat metal briefcase full of equipment. Anyway, I digress. They never found a bug in my room with the sweep. But I did.

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SpaceBrew Review: Star Wars III

We saw the last Star Wars yesterday as a team. My boss took us all out and we saw it, then she took us to the bar afterwards and bought us a hilarious amount of drinks so we would be properly prepared to discuss it at great lengths. I have a few complaints, and a few praises I will share with you. If you’ve not yet seen Episode III, or don’t know the general storyline of Star Wars, then don’t read below here, because there will be spoilers.

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Qualms With Star Movies

I have a bunch of qualms with Star Trek. For some people, all those interstellar movies are the hot shit. But I’ve found that Star Wars and Star Trek cannot peacefully coexist on the same shelf. For most people, it’s either one or the other. First of all, there’s the fact that all the shit in Star Trek is brand new looking. Like it’s never been used. Never been flown through a stellar dust cloud, or blown through an asteroid belt. Star Wars opposes. All the shit in Star Wars looks like it’s been around the universe a few times. Taken a beating. Looks a little more realistic.

Secondly, it pisses me off that Star Trek uses an up reference in deep space. why the hell are all the spacecraft planed on the same scale? Why is it that when two ships come in for close range combat, they are both upright? As if there is some universal up in null gravity. Obviously there is no up or down in null gravity. This tells me that some of the shots of the ships taken from distances should show the ship at awkward angles, not relative to the up and down you know sitting in front of your television screen. And furthermore, when there are two ships on the same screen, they won’t be exactly nose to nose, and there won’t be a common up. It just won’t happen, people.

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Nicotine Lollipops

Good day, Crater Faces. Another month is upon us, and another item of controversy has sprung up on the shelves. Every year we digress as a society, to the point of which we will finally become a sludge pit just like Palestine. Children are learning to kill at younger and younger ages, and all we do is feed it to them, on a shiny silver spoon we call television. In Europe they show nudity in commercials and on regular television. Here we show murder. Crime. Killing and rape, guns, drugs, and a whole slew of other bullshit that has somehow become acceptable. I’d much rather my children see a naked body than a dying one on television.

And don’t hand me that hogwash line “Well that’s the real world, Brandon”. Yeah, only because we make it that way. Anyway, to the point. This item I speak of is the latest development in smoking cessation. The nicotine lollipop.

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