OK, so I'm reading a blog that was written by a young (12) girl. There are some posts on there that are NOT written by a preadolescent boy, but instead are posted by some sick SOB who has dirty ulterior motives in mind. Here is my question: Where are the parents? Why do the parents not regulate what goes on in the crazy Interweb thing all the kids are doing? To make myself feel better, and to rant insanely, I am going to give a couple of points that you people should follow.
Point 1: (Most important) The computer goes in a public place. No kid gets a computer in their room. Computers are great tools. However, with the amount of really nasty people on the internet right now, and with the amount of horrible places to visit on the net, we as families should remove the threat by ensuring that the computers are in places where we can see what's going on on them.
Point 2: Password protect the monkey out of that thing. No one should be able to get on the computer without parental permission, and the only people who should know that password are the parents. This makes sure that the parents know when the kids are online. And this leads me to point 3.....
Point 3: Learn to use the History tab. The History shows you what web sites have been visited day by day. You can get this by pressing the History button, or you can use the drop down URL bar. Parents (using the password) should be the only ones who delete the History. If it's deleted on a day when you didn't BOTH agree to do it, then you know that someone in the house is deleting it because they don't want you to see what they've been looking at.
Point 4: Kids have no expectation of privacy. Did they pay for the computer? Do they pay for the house? Are they your kids and do you love them? Then you have the exclusive, permanent, and inalienable right to spy on them and search their stuff- physical and intellectual property. If they cry, tell them to suck it up. If they hate you, at least they're not being molested by some mullet-wearing, moustached perv in a minivan. You're in charge. Be in charge.
I guess that's it. Please be responsible adults, and if you can think of other tips, please post them in the comments. And if you know or suspect something is going on with someone, let people know. Start with the parents and go on to the authorities. Do your part.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
My Hero
This blog is basically an homage to my wife. She's totally my hero. Let me illustrate:
She's a hottie, and she's a great cook. This hasn't changed since we were 18, other than her cooking skill has improved. She married me when she totally shouldn't have, setting herself up for at least two years of "we're way too young for this." Then, she stayed with me even though I joined the Army. This is significant because she had broken up with a guy before that who was going into the Naval Academy, thinking that she didn't want to be with a military man. While I was in the Army, she moved with me to Monterey, CA, causing her to have to take a year off from school and when she got back to school, they had gotten rid of her program, which she really loved. She's been by herself almost half of the marriage because of my job, and still likes me. She gave up a job that she liked, great neighbors (nayvors), a nice house, and the intermountain west to come to El Piss-o and not be able to find a job. And most recently, even though it drives her insane to be in the house all the time, she stays at home to take care of Gigi.
Those are just some of the reasons. I know I totally married up- she's more educated, smarter, more spiritual, and a better parent than I am. I really don't know what I bring to the relationship other than astoundingly good looks and a mediocre income. I'm lazy, I don't really like to pick up after myself, and I'm really not interested in doing much other than watching TV at night and playing with the baby. Yeah, I'm a catch. And through it all, she stays with me, and was even suckered into marrying me in the Temple, sealing her to me for eternity. Boy, did she get gypped.
I know that she works harder than I do, because I can go to work and have time to do things like post blogs (yes, your tax dollars paid for this. You own an infinitessimally small part of this blog- probably the "s" in "small") while she has to be "on" all the time for Gigi. Plus, work for me is fun (most of the time) and I get to see some of my friends. Meanwhile, she's at home. I know this, and I want to publically say that I appreciate it.
So basically, Jen is the coolest. That's what I'm trying to say. I love her, and I appreciate her, and she's my hero. Maybe I ought to tell her this more when I'm at home, instead of saving it for a public forum like the Internet. I don't know. But at least it's out there now, and everyone knows it.
-w.
She's a hottie, and she's a great cook. This hasn't changed since we were 18, other than her cooking skill has improved. She married me when she totally shouldn't have, setting herself up for at least two years of "we're way too young for this." Then, she stayed with me even though I joined the Army. This is significant because she had broken up with a guy before that who was going into the Naval Academy, thinking that she didn't want to be with a military man. While I was in the Army, she moved with me to Monterey, CA, causing her to have to take a year off from school and when she got back to school, they had gotten rid of her program, which she really loved. She's been by herself almost half of the marriage because of my job, and still likes me. She gave up a job that she liked, great neighbors (nayvors), a nice house, and the intermountain west to come to El Piss-o and not be able to find a job. And most recently, even though it drives her insane to be in the house all the time, she stays at home to take care of Gigi.
Those are just some of the reasons. I know I totally married up- she's more educated, smarter, more spiritual, and a better parent than I am. I really don't know what I bring to the relationship other than astoundingly good looks and a mediocre income. I'm lazy, I don't really like to pick up after myself, and I'm really not interested in doing much other than watching TV at night and playing with the baby. Yeah, I'm a catch. And through it all, she stays with me, and was even suckered into marrying me in the Temple, sealing her to me for eternity. Boy, did she get gypped.
I know that she works harder than I do, because I can go to work and have time to do things like post blogs (yes, your tax dollars paid for this. You own an infinitessimally small part of this blog- probably the "s" in "small") while she has to be "on" all the time for Gigi. Plus, work for me is fun (most of the time) and I get to see some of my friends. Meanwhile, she's at home. I know this, and I want to publically say that I appreciate it.
So basically, Jen is the coolest. That's what I'm trying to say. I love her, and I appreciate her, and she's my hero. Maybe I ought to tell her this more when I'm at home, instead of saving it for a public forum like the Internet. I don't know. But at least it's out there now, and everyone knows it.
-w.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Summer Movie Mayhem
Ok. I haven't seen a lot of movies recently because of the whole baby thing, and so I thought it would be a real treat for me to go with the guys to see a movie this past Friday while Jen was having some sort of girly party (pillow fights? lingerie? No man knows.)
So we went to see Transporter 2. Now, I really enjoyed the first one, as implausible as it was. It was just believable enough to make it cool. I mean, someone really did drive the car, and there was a lot of butt-kicking action. So I thought that the second one would be more of the same.
Here's the thing. I am an easy movie audience. I can suspend my disbelief to lengths that really frustrate Jen. Wild driving? Check. Crazy acrobatic Kung-Fu stylings? Got it. Dragons and magic and physics-defying antics? No problem. Really, about the one thing that really gets to me is when there is some kind of realism in the plot, to where we're made to think that this is the "real" world, and then someone pops up with a magically never-ending magazine of 9-millimeter bullets, which then someone proceeds to dodge. Yeah. I'm a nerd, but ballistics is where I draw the line.
So in the interests of full disclosure, I will list my five least believable moments in Transporter 2.
1. OK, so there's a bomb on the bottom of Jason Statham's really really really cool Audi. He happens to see it in a reflection in the puddle over which the car is parked. So far, so good. So the evil villains let him go, thinking to get some distance between themselves and the bomb. Well, Jason knows, so he drives all-out onto the beach, finds a convenient ramp, and guns it. You guessed it, turbo-boost up the ramp, which turns the car over in midair. He then catches the bomb on the convenient hook of a crane that is just right there, the car continues its roll, and he lands perfectly without destroying his axles or exploding his tires as the bomb, hooked onto the crane, explodes.
2. All right, so this crazy psycho chick wearing a lab coat and some skank lingerie who has the body of a 7-year old boy unleashes with two TAC-9 submachine guns. She has two 30-round magazines. In my elementary school, we learned that 30+30=60, not 360. Nevertheless, she never reloads. Argh.
3. In an attempt to get the antidote, Jason Statham dives out of a third-story window.... onto a taxi. Then gets up and runs away. I am kind of an expert in falling down, and there's NO WAY.
4. While trying to get at the Russian scientist (yeah, it's a cliche. Haven't you seen the pattern yet?) J.S. is running down a fire escape. He's being shot at, and dodges the bullets. Now, you're saying "Neo dodges bullets, and Jason Statham is like 900% cooler than Keanu Reeves." Yes, but here's the thing: they explain it away in the Matrix by saying we're all basically meat batteries for a computer, whereas the Transporter exists in the "Real" world of Miami. Remember what I said about suspending disbelief? There you go.
5. In the drug dealer's mansion, J.S. and crazy psycho 7-year-old-boy lady are having a fight. Well, Jason's sort of standing there, while the girl is swinging from Mardi Gras beads and trying to hit him. I have seen MANY kung-fu movies, and that was the suckiest scene that ever sucked. It was terrible, and very anti-climactic.
Those are 5. There are more, but I'm too depressed that I paid eight dollars to see that crap. It's entertaining, but either rent it or see it at the dollar movies. If you're going to do it in El Paso, though, make sure that the pimply-faced teen usher Gestapo don't see you with your own smuggled-in treats, or they'll make you give them up in an embarrassing scene right in the middle of the movie.... so I've been told.
OK, now you. What are your least believable movie scenes? Remember, it has to be set in the "real" world. I know broomsticks don't fly. However, if you can explain it away using the rules of the "imaginary" world the movie is set in, then go ahead.
So we went to see Transporter 2. Now, I really enjoyed the first one, as implausible as it was. It was just believable enough to make it cool. I mean, someone really did drive the car, and there was a lot of butt-kicking action. So I thought that the second one would be more of the same.
Here's the thing. I am an easy movie audience. I can suspend my disbelief to lengths that really frustrate Jen. Wild driving? Check. Crazy acrobatic Kung-Fu stylings? Got it. Dragons and magic and physics-defying antics? No problem. Really, about the one thing that really gets to me is when there is some kind of realism in the plot, to where we're made to think that this is the "real" world, and then someone pops up with a magically never-ending magazine of 9-millimeter bullets, which then someone proceeds to dodge. Yeah. I'm a nerd, but ballistics is where I draw the line.
So in the interests of full disclosure, I will list my five least believable moments in Transporter 2.
1. OK, so there's a bomb on the bottom of Jason Statham's really really really cool Audi. He happens to see it in a reflection in the puddle over which the car is parked. So far, so good. So the evil villains let him go, thinking to get some distance between themselves and the bomb. Well, Jason knows, so he drives all-out onto the beach, finds a convenient ramp, and guns it. You guessed it, turbo-boost up the ramp, which turns the car over in midair. He then catches the bomb on the convenient hook of a crane that is just right there, the car continues its roll, and he lands perfectly without destroying his axles or exploding his tires as the bomb, hooked onto the crane, explodes.
2. All right, so this crazy psycho chick wearing a lab coat and some skank lingerie who has the body of a 7-year old boy unleashes with two TAC-9 submachine guns. She has two 30-round magazines. In my elementary school, we learned that 30+30=60, not 360. Nevertheless, she never reloads. Argh.
3. In an attempt to get the antidote, Jason Statham dives out of a third-story window.... onto a taxi. Then gets up and runs away. I am kind of an expert in falling down, and there's NO WAY.
4. While trying to get at the Russian scientist (yeah, it's a cliche. Haven't you seen the pattern yet?) J.S. is running down a fire escape. He's being shot at, and dodges the bullets. Now, you're saying "Neo dodges bullets, and Jason Statham is like 900% cooler than Keanu Reeves." Yes, but here's the thing: they explain it away in the Matrix by saying we're all basically meat batteries for a computer, whereas the Transporter exists in the "Real" world of Miami. Remember what I said about suspending disbelief? There you go.
5. In the drug dealer's mansion, J.S. and crazy psycho 7-year-old-boy lady are having a fight. Well, Jason's sort of standing there, while the girl is swinging from Mardi Gras beads and trying to hit him. I have seen MANY kung-fu movies, and that was the suckiest scene that ever sucked. It was terrible, and very anti-climactic.
Those are 5. There are more, but I'm too depressed that I paid eight dollars to see that crap. It's entertaining, but either rent it or see it at the dollar movies. If you're going to do it in El Paso, though, make sure that the pimply-faced teen usher Gestapo don't see you with your own smuggled-in treats, or they'll make you give them up in an embarrassing scene right in the middle of the movie.... so I've been told.
OK, now you. What are your least believable movie scenes? Remember, it has to be set in the "real" world. I know broomsticks don't fly. However, if you can explain it away using the rules of the "imaginary" world the movie is set in, then go ahead.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
The Running Man
Let me just tell you how much I hate running. I probably run about 15-20 miles a week in a normal week, and I hate running. I'm not a bad runner. I'm actually pretty average. The problem is, I can think of at least 5 unpleasant things I would rather do than run. As a matter of fact, here's the list:
1. Go to the dentist. I don't floss, so going to the dentist is painful for me. I would still rather go to the dentist than run four miles (the normal run here in C Battery). The dental clinic here has a technician who is at least 100 lbs overweight and has man-hands, so you feel like someone's trying to cram sausages in your mouth and then poke you with sharp metal things, and you know what? I would STILL rather go to the dentist than run.
2. Clean the garage.
3. Sit through a three-hour meeting. I have a superior officer who is my Battalion Executive Officer. I'll call him Chuck. He will happily talk for three hours about NOTHING, and then expect us to know everything that's going on in the Battalion (that's a lot of people and events). He also loves Power Point. By contrast, it takes me about a half hour to run 4 miles. The meeting is better.
4. Speaking of Power Point, I would rather make up a 45-minute Power Point presentation about ANYTHING than run. I would rather do a presentation about running than actually run.
5. I would rather eat crappy Mexican food and get the runs than actually run. At least with the runs, I'd get some reading done.
Yeah, I'm lame. Here's how lame. I was feeling motivated the other night and so I got on the treadmill, thinking that I would run while watching one of my favorite shows, The Closer. I set it to a 9-minute mile pace (very slow) thinking that I would run 4 miles and the show would be just about over. I did two miles easily, and could have run more with no problems, but I was so bored that I just quit. Not because I was tired or hurt or anything, but because I was bored. Lame.
How do you feel about running?
1. Go to the dentist. I don't floss, so going to the dentist is painful for me. I would still rather go to the dentist than run four miles (the normal run here in C Battery). The dental clinic here has a technician who is at least 100 lbs overweight and has man-hands, so you feel like someone's trying to cram sausages in your mouth and then poke you with sharp metal things, and you know what? I would STILL rather go to the dentist than run.
2. Clean the garage.
3. Sit through a three-hour meeting. I have a superior officer who is my Battalion Executive Officer. I'll call him Chuck. He will happily talk for three hours about NOTHING, and then expect us to know everything that's going on in the Battalion (that's a lot of people and events). He also loves Power Point. By contrast, it takes me about a half hour to run 4 miles. The meeting is better.
4. Speaking of Power Point, I would rather make up a 45-minute Power Point presentation about ANYTHING than run. I would rather do a presentation about running than actually run.
5. I would rather eat crappy Mexican food and get the runs than actually run. At least with the runs, I'd get some reading done.
Yeah, I'm lame. Here's how lame. I was feeling motivated the other night and so I got on the treadmill, thinking that I would run while watching one of my favorite shows, The Closer. I set it to a 9-minute mile pace (very slow) thinking that I would run 4 miles and the show would be just about over. I did two miles easily, and could have run more with no problems, but I was so bored that I just quit. Not because I was tired or hurt or anything, but because I was bored. Lame.
How do you feel about running?
Monday, August 29, 2005
Yeah, I've got a blog too.
Yeah, I've got a blog too.
My wife has one, my friends have one, and now I have one. Give it up for peer pressure. My first posting is just a desperate plea for people to read. I promise to do my best to make it interesting or funny, but at the end of the day, I just want people to read it and post stuff.
OK, so a little about me. My name is Waldo. Yeah, insert stupid joke here. I guarantee you that I have heard every single "where's Waldo" joke, and even most of the Van Halen "Hot for Teacher" references. I am married, and have been for eight and a half years. My wife's name is Jen, and she has a blog called "elpasorepresentyo". I am an Army officer stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas, in the scenic city of Occupied Northern Juarez, otherwise known as El Paso, TX. I work in the Air Defense field, so don't bother lobbing a tactical ballistic missile at me, or I'll have to shoot it down. Jen and I have a little daughter named Georgia Grace (GiGi) who is by far the prettiest baby in history. I'm sorry, I'm sure that you all love your kids, but empirically speaking, GiGi blows them all out of the water. Link to our website at http://galanapalooza.hopto.org
Anyway, Jen and I moved out here from Utah. At this point, I want to send a little shout out to Jen. She is the coolest, most supportive, most wonderful person ever. Also, she's a great cook and a little hottie. She quit a job and left a house where she had friends and some awesome neighbors in order to come down here to the desert and swelter along with me. Then, once we adopted, she decided she didn't want to work in order to raise GiGi. She rules.
Continuing on, I expect to be here in El Paso for the next couple of years at least. It's a fun time.
Ok. Now you all post something. If it's original, I'll take a where's waldo joke. If it's not original, expect to get mocked. Try not to be profane, because who knows who's going to read this.
Ready... GO.
-w.
My wife has one, my friends have one, and now I have one. Give it up for peer pressure. My first posting is just a desperate plea for people to read. I promise to do my best to make it interesting or funny, but at the end of the day, I just want people to read it and post stuff.
OK, so a little about me. My name is Waldo. Yeah, insert stupid joke here. I guarantee you that I have heard every single "where's Waldo" joke, and even most of the Van Halen "Hot for Teacher" references. I am married, and have been for eight and a half years. My wife's name is Jen, and she has a blog called "elpasorepresentyo". I am an Army officer stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas, in the scenic city of Occupied Northern Juarez, otherwise known as El Paso, TX. I work in the Air Defense field, so don't bother lobbing a tactical ballistic missile at me, or I'll have to shoot it down. Jen and I have a little daughter named Georgia Grace (GiGi) who is by far the prettiest baby in history. I'm sorry, I'm sure that you all love your kids, but empirically speaking, GiGi blows them all out of the water. Link to our website at http://galanapalooza.hopto.org
Anyway, Jen and I moved out here from Utah. At this point, I want to send a little shout out to Jen. She is the coolest, most supportive, most wonderful person ever. Also, she's a great cook and a little hottie. She quit a job and left a house where she had friends and some awesome neighbors in order to come down here to the desert and swelter along with me. Then, once we adopted, she decided she didn't want to work in order to raise GiGi. She rules.
Continuing on, I expect to be here in El Paso for the next couple of years at least. It's a fun time.
Ok. Now you all post something. If it's original, I'll take a where's waldo joke. If it's not original, expect to get mocked. Try not to be profane, because who knows who's going to read this.
Ready... GO.
-w.
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