what was in my yard
Before work this morning, as is my routine in these pre-Halloween weeks, I went outside to take the props off of "night" mode (which is a no-motor, high-light mode aimed at theft deterrent). Upon opening the door and stepping onto the porch this morning, however, I was shocked to see something foreign amongst the foam tombstones marking faux plots on my lawn.
My shocked sucking of breath made one of those airy whistling sounds as I instantly began shaking my head and exclaimed, "Oh… oh my God." Sharaun, in the kitchen stirring the milk and Splenda into her first cup of morning coffee, must've heard me and immediately assumed we had once again been victims of Halloween thieves. "What now!?," she bellowed from the kitchen, with just a hint of exasperation in her voice; after all, being robbed twice would tend to get a fella down. "You've got to come out here now," I say, punctuating the sentence with giggles. Noting from my tone that this was likely no common robbery, she started towards the door. "Get the camera," I requested, as I moved in for a closer look.
Once I realized what it was, staked there into my yard and towering above me by a good two feet, I immediately knew who'd done it. I left the thing up long enough only to appreciate its humor and take a couple pictures, then I immediately removed the installation and promptly took it inside. I told Sharaun to call my prime suspects, and in short order the whole thing was admitted. With the culprits outed, I arrived at work and was urged to check my pharaohweb.com e-mail. I did, and found a cryptic mail with a ZIP archive of pictures. And, if you follow the link below, you'll be able to experience this whole thing much as I did - and you'll understand exactly what I'm on about.
Click here to see what I found in my yard.
Top work, lads and ladies. I applaud you and am flattered by the effort.
Goodnight.
q&a
Tuesday night, but tomorrow is my Friday - as Ben's wedding sees me taking both Thursday and Friday off to do my groomsmenly duties. Can't wait, should be awesome fun and drunk-relaxing to boot.
You know, a few months ago when I finally decided to add my e-mail address to the sidebar of sounds familiar, I wondered at first if anyone even noticed. Then, the mails trickled in. They were simple at first, although I got the occasional nugget. Over time though, I feel I've collected enough of these gems to assemble a choice little review. So, here we go friends, a rundown of what I feel are some of the best e-mails I've got as a result of my blog entries:
Did this really happen? (written in response to my poop entry)Why yes, it really did. My old college roommate at the time even confirmed it here. I assure you that I really did spend an afternoon cleaning feces off the floor, wall, and ceiling.i like to be gay with u, and in some of ur blogs u sound like u might b ok with it?
Sure! You've keenly picked up on the obvious homosexual undercurrents in my writing. Let's meet sometime in real life and see if we get along. Maybe then, and only if you're cute, can you be gay with me. I want to make it clear that, while I'm not 100% gay, e-mailing me random propositions is probably the best way to increase your odds.Chinese people make me nervous, they always look like they will rob you. How can you relax there? (written in response, I think, to my entries on trips to Asia)
Well, you're right - Asian people certainly do come across all back-alley thug, don't they?. But, you have to work through it if you want to really connect on a global scale. Look, I've been to Taiwan like, ten times, or something - and I've only been stabbed twice (and one of those was with a chopstick, so that doesn't even really count). Plus if you're able to conquer your fears, the Asian tail is saweeeet.Your daughter and wife are beautiful, but your fat and your hair is thin.
You have keen powers of perception, dear reader. I am indeed a bit oafish, and a good bit of my hair has gone the way of the dodo. I also agree heartily that my wife and daughter are some of God's finest creations. However, I have a very logical explanation for it all: Panties shake loose in fits of laughter around me.I can't believe you think that fukken album is good, you must have retardness of the brain and cancer of the ear and a permanent shittaste in your mouth from all the shit you listen to. You are a dick idoit bitch. (written in response to this entry)
Whoa, padner... slooow your roll here. What gives you the right to criticize my taste in music?! I have a blog, you idiot, and that makes me an expert on whatever I deem myself an expert of. I won't let your negativity impact my genius, I just won't.I think I also have this allergy. Did you ever feel itchy in the shower after football? (written in response to this entry)
Football? Shower?do u go to mihs? i think i am who blew u in the field. (written in response to this entry)
Wow, where to start on this one - this is probably my favorite one to date. First off, no, I didn't go to "MIHS." Second, I'm preeety sure you're not the girl I was, uhhh, writing about. Your first clue should have been the fact that you seem to be writing about events which transpired relatively recently, while I, on the other hand, am writing about something which happened in my storied past. Wow.You could do this much easier with real robots. (written in response to this entry)
"Real" robots? Now why didn't I think of that?Brilliant! I showed this 2 my youth group that my stopid mom makes me go 2!! (written in response to this entry)
Just what I need on St. Peter's roll when I show up, spreading heresy to impressionable kids. Seriously though, don't take anything you read on the internet as gospel. In fact, don't even take the gospel as gospel - question everything and you'll be better for it.
Lately, my el-cheapo Pioneer receiver has started to tick me off. Thing is, I don't even do anything with it. I don't have a CD player hooked up anymore, it's up in a box in the garage with my record player. I simply don't listen to anything at home that's not the free XM feeds that come with DirecTV, piped off the iPod, or playing from my hard drive - no need for all that media (in fact, all my already ripped CDs went into bins and subsequently into the rafters in this past weekend's organization fit). Anyway, for some reason the damn thing has taken to enabling only the right speaker more often than not. Oh, the other speakers are still functional, the test tone confirms this, but they just don't work. I fear an internal circuit inside the budget box has gone lame. Certainly not an insurmountable problem, but the whole thing just makes me think I'm being told it's time to upgrade the whole A/V solution... plus stupid Pat keeps talking about the falling prices of flatscreens...
Well, that was nice. As for the rest of the week, I think I've got something creative planned for Thursday and Friday's posts - if it works. For more good stuff today, pop over and read this piece - it's a good one.
Goodnight.
whither hast thou gone?
Another Monday and I'm just sitting here downloading some music.
Wow, wrote those words and passed out snoring for 30min, some kind of magic dust has settled over me and I simply lost consciousness for a bit. No problem, dinner was Sharaun's fantastic potato chowder (one of my favorite meals of all-time), and cleanup is a snap, and I've got the writing itch tonight - so I should be able to make up for the unexpected slumber.
This morning on the way to work, I saw a high-school couple waiting to cross the street. The young buck had has arm flung around his quarry, making a public display of their union. Seeing them fondle and peck at each other as they waited to cross reminded me of my own high school relationships. Rushing to pre-appointed spots in the scant 5min between classes to touch tongues. High school in Florida was hot, so midday between-class kisses were underscored with a heady scent that was combination of morning soap, teenage perfume, and summer sweat. To a boy of fifteen, those minute-long makeout breaks were something to be looked forward to - as well as a public flaunting of virility for all to see: that guy is workin' it. Looking back now, those unbridled hormones and PDA seem "gross" and inappropriate - but thankfully youth blinds one to such social stigmas and leaves you free to grope and groan before the world without shame. Ahhh… youth… you fickle bitch, whither hast thou gone?
If I won the lottery, one of the amenities I would allow myself would be clothing myself exclusively in hand-tailored clothes. Nothing fancy, mind you, but tailored specifically to me nonetheless. I hate the way most clothes fit me, and, yes, I realize I can change this with a diet and exercise regime - but tailored clothes just seem so much more regal. I could stop my jeans from binding up near the top of my thighs when I walk, get shirts that don't pull to one side leaving one sleeve sitting further up my arm than the other, put pockets where I want them for what I need them, and maybe get a suitjacket that isn't more like a straightjacket in the shoulders. I think I have this thought every year upon the return of jean season, I hate 90% of the long pants I have - and the three pair I enjoy are about worn out. Curses.
I toy all the time with changing my WordPress theme, updating it to the newer more modular-type themes that more recent versions of WP use. Mine is lovingly hand-crafted (read: spaghetti-code CSS) and built on the old legacy style theme templates. Sometimes I just browse through themes seeing if there's anything that I could see myself simply going hard-over to, but I never find anything as simple or clean as what you currently see. Besides, I've kind of grown fond of the boxy greenness, despite its shortcomings. So, for now, I'll leave it. Who knows, as the years continue to go by and if I continue to write through them, I'll likely be forced to update and move along. But until then, Sounds Familiar finna keep it real.
Goodnight my friends.
mostly pictures
Sunday I decided to organize the garage, partly because the house was in such disarray that I wanted to clean something. We had some folks over Saturday for football, Halloween prop-building, and smoked pork butt. Borrowed Pat's homemade smoker, woke up at quarter to four to take the meat from it's brine, dry-rub it, and put it in. So, Sunday morning found the house a little untidy - hence my OCD urge to clean and organize. Managed to make some more room by shifting things around and moving stuff up into the rafters. I've written before about how better utilizing the space we have makes me feel good, and today was no exception.
Not gonna write much today, don't have much to say. Basically, I'll just point you over to Keaton's gallery - which has been updated with her week thirty-one pictures. I also added back the ability to comment, although with a little captcha style confirmation code. So, comment away again please.
Goodnight lovers.
halloween 2006: ceiling dropper
Note: This entry is part of my Halloween Projects category. You can see all of my posts documenting my projects by clicking the "Halloween Projects category" link above. You'll also find images and movies of the projects and their construction in my Halloween Gallery, which can be accessed by links in these posts or directly here.
This year, when the UPS man delivered my PicoBoo. As I opened the package and started feeling my way around the small device, I suddenly realized that this thing has much more potential that activating my wolf prop, which can essentially be a "static loop" prop and require no activation. So, my mind started racing - thinking about a new prop... something complex enough to be worthy of PicoBoo-timed activation and sound, yet something simple enough to not break the Halloween bank. The idea came to me while I was sitting at my desk at work, I call it the Ceiling Dropper. Here's the gist:
Concept:
In the entryway to my house, right before the door itself, I have two columns which attach to the roof. Immediately outside the door, the ceiling itself is recessed, but that recess is hidden when viewing the facade of the house while walking up. My idea involved "springing" something down from this recess as unsuspecting visitors approach the house. Imagine the mechanism as an upside-down version of last year's coffin popper: a simple hinged torso which "pops" down from a hidden ceiling recess as a trick-or-treater approaches. Of course, the actual dropping would be accompanied by lights and sound for maximum scare effect. The whole drop-down/retract action will be accomplished with air power and a simple pulley, and the entire thing will be triggerable as desired (motion, pressure mat, or manual).
Trick-or-treater approaches the house, unaware a skeleton is about to swing down from the roof and attack them. The torso is attached to a hinged piece of PVC and suspended by a wire that's attached to a reverse-action pneumatic cylinder (meaning air pulls the thing shut). The cylinder is kept powered (aired) and the prop is normally retracted and hidden in the recess. When activated, the solenoid will cut air and the cylinder will drop open (gravity and spring), snapping the prop into scare position. At the same time, the PicoBoo will activate the scare sound and targeted lighting.
Post-drop concept. Our trick-or-treater, having barely just recovered from the motion-triggered Coffin Popper, is now assaulted by our skeleton from above. Note the sheer terror on the innocent child's face - this is what Halloween is all about.
The cylinder is attached to a bit of 2x4, which is in turn attached to the stucco/wood in the recess, and the wire is threaded through an eye hook and attached via a drilled hole into the hinged PVC swingarm. The hinge action is a simple PVC "smaller through bigger" hinge. I did a lot of measuring to decide what stroke length I needed for the cylinder, but the bore size needn't be huge as we'll only be lifting about ~15lbs. I wanted to leave a "safe" 7ft of ground clearance when the prop was fully deployed, so I wouldn't have to worry about tall folks getting whacked in the noggin. This left me with about ~32in of prop length - which serendipitously worked out perfect for a typical adult torso.
For a "proof of concept" teaser, check out the teaser video here.
Implementation & Actuals
Coming soon, stay tuned.
Finished Effect
Coming soon, stay tuned.
coffee and pizza
Hey hey Thursday again, and I've written nary a word as the clock tick-tick-ticks towards 8pm. I could be working on the new tombstones, but I'm not. Usually, when I come home from work, I take everything out of my pockets, peel of my shoes and socks and get down to a pair of shorts and my undershirt and then collect my cellphone and head to the living room. When I forget my cellphone on the dresser, I can't hear it from the front part of the house. So, I end up missing calls. Later, when I find my cellphone and see how many missed calls I have I rarely return any phone calls, and even more rarely listen to the pileup of voicemails. I don't know why I don't listen to voicemail, I guess I have some notion that, if people want to talk to me or tell me something, they'll probably call back. I know it's a dick point of view, but if you'll remember I've never actually said I wasn't a dick.
Today I came home for lunch and made a pizza, those frozen oven kind with a french bread crust. I had four of the smallish pieces and some soda before playing with Keaton for a while, kissing her forehead, and heading back to a packed day at the office. When I came home, I decided to once again not mow the lawn (this is perhaps my longest dereliction of the duty), and I held and kissed and played with the baby a little more before Sharaun left for a "girls night out" with friends. On my own for dinner, I surveyed the options: leftover spaghetti (my go-to, always works, never tired of it meal), leftover sausage and peppers (but I'd have to cook some rice to put it on), or the remaining slices of the very pizza I had for lunch. Faced with the choices, I went with pizza. So, today, I had coffee and pizza; that's it. Coffee and pizza do not fine-dining make, my friends. Not by far.
Anyone else having issues with their 5G iPod not showing album art anymore after firmware 1.2 and/or iTunes 7.0.1? I consider the album artwork display feature to be one of the better "perks" of the iPod, but also one of the most poorly implemented. Why do some MP3s with embedded artwork just "work," while the iPod seems to ignore others? Why do I have to uncheck the "show artwork" and then recheck it to get the iPod to "optimize artwork" so it'll display properly? Should the damn thing "optimize" it when I drop the files onto it? Why did the new firmware/iTunes break artwork for newly-added albums?
Last night, I tried to fix this and the damn thing ate all my lovingly added artwork and now I can't get it back. Oh, it's still embedded in the files - it shows up in iTunes, just not on the iPod. I was so angry, I just laughed. Yeah, I was that mad. This website says I should "remove all the tracks" from my iPod and then "re-synchronize it." Great, except I don't use the "synchronize library" feature, I manually manage the songs and have no established library with which I can re-synchronize (the measly 60GB that is my iPod represents a mere fraction of my entire music collection). Moreover, there's no "approved" way to get the tracks currently on my iPod off my iPod so I can re-add them. I guess, I'll use SharePod to take all the songs off my iPod, blank it out, and then re-add them through iTunes 7.0.1. Yeah, I'll do that when I have 3hrs to spare...
I'm not the only one either, others are also struggling with album art issues in 7.0. Anyway, I'm hoping somone will hit this page with a Google search for the subphrases "artwork shows in iTunes" and "not on iPod," and comment here with a quick-fix because this...
If you are in manual mode, the ONLY way to put artwork back onto your iPod right now is to add the artwork to the song in iTunes and then re-transfer those tracks back to your iPod. The artwork can be added either manually or automatically, but it must be added to the file in iTunes and then the file transferred to the iPod.
...is bullshit. Goodnight.
run over by the spinning wheel
Friends, I told you it would happen… eventually. I just didn't think it would be so soon. Within two days of putting up all my lovingly crafted Halloween decorations and props, I got jacked. The thieves made of with my best homemade headstone, a 4ft tall one with the nondescript "R.I.P." carved into it, as well as the $10 "skeleton" thing which was jutting from the earth at its foot. They also tried to steal last year's crown jewel, the not-cheap-at-all to make "coffin popper." In their efforts, they detached all the various air hoses and AC wiring to the coffin, and I'm assuming only left it when they realized it weighs well over 100lbs.
Let me just take this time to emphasize just how much I hate getting things stolen from me. For reasons (explained here in detail), being the victim of a pilferer evokes a deep-seeded feeling of violation in me. I get altogether furious and nervous as my brain starts instantly wishing I'd caught the sticky-fingered bastards in the act, I get put off thinking of these ill-willed punks slinking around my house touching my things and all right under my nose as I sleep. I curse the gonads these bandits must have to take the time to step onto my porch and unhook my air hoses, to trace wiring with their fingers to find a plug in the dark and unplug it (if only my extremely unsafe for outdoors 120V wiring would've shocked the dicks). I hate the brazenness I imagine them having, and a good bit of that hates stems from the fact that I know for a fact I once possessed the exact same brazenness when committing my teenage deeds.
In fact, this morning I found myself nearly simultaneously thinking, "What gives kids the idea that they can do this kinda thing?" and, "Oh… that's right, I know exactly what gives them that idea…" Stupid me, getting karmic repayment for the evils of my own youth. And the worst part is, if I was the God of Paybacks sitting up on my cloud on high, stealing a tombstone would only be the tip of the iceberg for me. Sharaun suggested I make a list, like Earl, and start making right the transgressions of my past - and perhaps I'd be spared any more vandalism or theft. Yeah, I doubt it...
Anyway, as if I haven't written enough about it now... I'm not going to lie, I wrote the preceding paragraphs in the early morning hours just after discovering I'd been jacked. Writing is my catharsis. I was so angry, even angrier at the thought of them actually making good on their attempts to liberate me of the coffin prop. Had I woken up to that missing, I think I may have cried - so much time and effort (not to mention money) went into it. Losing that coffin may have drained my Halloween spirit, I have so much pride wrapped up in those silly props… I'm not sure I'd even be motivated to finish this year's... sick in my belly, sick in my belly...
Let's move on though, I guy can only fester so long.
When I saw an article linked on MeFi the other day about "the death of cursive" (apparently, only 15% of kids wrote their 2006 SAT essays in cursive) and noticed it had a whopping 90 comments, I clicked to see what other people were saying. Before I read the comments, I took mental not of my own opinion: who cares, cursive is dumb anyway. Right then, turns out I wasn't the only one who sees little need to defend cursive as an art. I was just talking about this the other day with friends, how I haven't written in cursive since gradeshcool when I was actually learning to write in cursive. I print everything, even my signature is some flowing block print rather than script. Cursive... please... that's what fonts are for.
Know who's pretty? Girls.
Goodnight.
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