Ride of the Stationery

This utterly contemptible lethargy continues. Not even a Wagnerian chimpanzee was able to snap me out of it today.

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Yes, you read that right.

But it’s a holiday, Father’s Day. MY holiday, right? Certainly that should snap me out of it.

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Friday Crap Roundup XVIII

It’s Friday. I’m still sore and north of 275 pounds. Still, any day I manage to stay out of Jackson’s is a good day.

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Especially recently.

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Bring Out Your Dead

Like many of you, my music collection began on the venerable Compact Cassette format. While I’m somewhat ashamed to say the first tape I bought on my own was *cough* Thriller, the second proved to be a much more dignified choice.

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1984 wasn’t so bad after all.

Although I remember when computers came with cassette tape players, the format doesn’t exactly lend itself to multimedia excellence. I haven’t had a tape player for years, so they’ve just sat there moldering.

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History Wednesday: The Unpronounceable Country

In the minds of many Utah is almost synonymous with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. While it’s true the Mormon Church did more to establish and build present-day Utah than any other single entity, it’s also important to keep in mind they were never the only game in town.

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Just by far the largest.

Yes, even the relatively homogenous history of Utah isn’t without its bumps.

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In Search of Sexual Perestroika

A few days ago I wrote of my disdain for dating sites. In the short time since that post has already become the second most-viewed in the history of SB, second only to my exposé of gr8tits2play. That in turn implies my readership is – if nothing else – sexually frustrated.

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“But if you do, make sure your tetanus shots are up to date!”
Image credit: Frank Serritelli

The thing is, these days I’m not sexually frustrated in the slightest. I’m just bored.

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Stupidity in Multimedia

My daughter went back to the 2T earlier today. Now I have time to catch up on my own projects. Projects such as buy laundry soap. Buy dish soap. Buy disinfectant. Buy batteries. Buy cat litter. Buy horse tranquilizers pale ale. And do it all at once.

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I tend to let things go.
Image credit: Dean Johnson

It also means I have time to go back inside my head. That’s a scary, surreal place indeed.

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Friday Crap Roundup XVII

Wow, there’s not much to go on for today’s FCR. Although most of my week has been monopolized by an eight-year-old, my Facebook feed usually provides more than enough weirdness for me. Not this week. It’s almost as if everyone was as lethargic as my daughter and I were out at Camel’s Back Park this afternoon. Idahoans generally don’t do well in hot, humid conditions.

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This ain’t exactly Cherrapunji, you know.
Image credit: Greg Harness

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History Wednesday: Frequency Manipulation

Today I took my daughter swimming at the condo association pool next to the Command Center. Being an exceptionally nice day in Boise, some of the neighborhood kids were already there. One of them had her iPhone or whatever plugged into a speaker, playing her list of jammin’ MP3s. This experience proved to be exactly as excruciating as it sounds.

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You’d better “Beliebe” it.

Replace Justin Bieber with, say, Wham! and the iPhone with that noted paragon of past 2T culture, Z-103, and you’d have a scene very reminiscent of the Putt n’ Plunge during the mid-80s. Of course, my mind working the way it does I thought to myself, “Hey, it could have been Z-43.”

No, I’m not making an obscure Ed Wood reference here.

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Fighting the Bogeyman, With Science!

Before I continue, a programming note. Effective immediately the sobriquet of “Beachy” as it refers to my daughter is retired on SB. She’s never been a big fan of it, and earlier today requested its immediate and permanent discontinuance. We’re talking in the strongest possible terms here. I’m left with no alternative but to honor her request.

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It remains to be seen how I handle this from here. Stay tuned.
Image credit: Wolfram Burner

Right, now on with today’s narrative.

As is the case with most eight-year-olds, bedtime can be an ongoing battle. In the case of my daughter, this is especially true when she’s with me, as well as especially true on the eve of a major event such as the last day of school. That’s tonight’s double whammy.

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Dating as Performance Art

This month marks my four-year divorce anniversary. Although I’ve dated from time to time in the interim, for the most part since then I’ve been a single man. I can’t imagine why.

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Being such a catch and all.

For most of that time I’ve maintained profiles on several dating sites, notably OkCupid and POF. I’m not entirely sure why, though. The results have been, shall we say, less than impressive.

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