Sadcox is writing up comic strips about the characters he’s known over the years… I figured I would take away his thunder about me final-battle-in-8-Mile style in the two comics below.

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In a former life I was into geographic information systems (GIS), spatial analysis, remote sensing, computer cartography, and satellite imagery analysis. Now, not so much, but I still dig that shit. When I was in grad school, I had multiple courses that covered these subjects including spatial statistics and advanced GIS. I’ve also always thought that stats are bullshit (i.e., you can make any point you want by massaging your data… not your wiggly bits). Anyway, I tried to figure out how to make a research topic out of spatial stats and my “stats are bullshit” hypothesis. I came up with an idea, show a positive correlation between the spatial proximity of Chinese Restaurants and Animal Hospitals/Veterinarian Clinics. I started to gather the data in a small pilot area in East Tennessee (ok, it was in fucking Knoxville) and started to massage my… er, data. I started with a 1/2 mile radius around the Animal hospitals searching for Chinese Restaurants, there was a correlation, but not strong. I extended the radius to 1 mile and boom, positive correlation. What does this prove? Not a fucking thing, but it was fun. Over the years I lost my data and test cases, also, it was in the ’90s so I was limited by the data available. I would be interested in seeing this analyis performed with proper data as it is much more abundant today…

Remember, if you hear meowing while you are in a Chinese Restaurant, get the fuck out! (This actually happened to my wife and I, but at a Japanese restaurant in Baltimore)

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I finished watching the fourth season of The Wire on DVD and am dying to see the fifth season, but the fucking thing doesn’t come out until August. And like a “her-on” junkie from the show, I needed a new obsession. Lost isn’t doing it, I need a regular fix, and watching an hour a week or spreading it out over a season is for suckas. I’m now convinced that watching full seasons of shows on DVD is the only way to go. I have absolute control over what, when, and how. And I can fix-up a couple of shows a night if I get into it.

I actually don’t watch regular TV anymore. Can we dump our cable now? Hell no, we need Dora, Diego, Sesame Street, and the fucking-douchebag Wiggles for the crazy spawn on-demand.

My latest obsession is Entourage. I watched the first season in two days and am mid-way through the second season. Best line ever from the second season:

Dude, did you just get cock-blocked by Bob Saget?

Fucking classic…

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Sadcox over at Hear It From Us found a cool tool called toonlet that creates comic strips. Here is my first “hello world” comic (in geek talk, my first attempt)… later bitches.

AND, my second attempt:

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There is something seriously wrong with me. I can’t stop laughing when I see this scene (click below). The first time I saw it, I literally couldn’t breathe and had tears streaming down my face like a little bitch. I still giggle like a school boy when I see it. I need professional help.

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So I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the San Diego airport reading a book by Chuck Palahniuk (the dude that wrote Fight Club) and there was a great line in it. So great that I logged onto my laptop and was going to jot it down in notepad or something so I didn’t forget it. Then it occurred to me that if any airport in the world had terminal wide WiFi it would be this one… guess what, I was right. I love technology. Therefore, I just began to write this post.

Now, I love lines, quotes, lyrics, blurbs, or whatever you want to call them. The problem is, I can’t seem to remember them all as my short-term memory is shot to shit from too much unprotected sex in Haiti… wait, that’s hepatitis and my liver, never mind. At any rate, the excerpt that I was referring to is:

It’s not that I want to get married. I admire guys who can commit to a tattoo. - Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor

What a great line, to denigrate marriage to window dressing in such a succinct manner, that is flippin genius. That led me to think of other biting lines I had read or heard over the years. I’m not referring to classic pickup lines like “Nice shoes, wanna fuck”, but more like:

• People who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch - Jack Nicholson, As good as it Gets

• If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence - Charles Bukowski

• The Universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest - Kilgore Trout

• Be careful who you pretend to be, because you are who you pretend to be - Kurt Vonnegut

• A patriot must always be prepared to defend his country against his government - Edward Abbey

And…

The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald… striking. So, I’m on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga… gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he’s gonna stiff me. And I say, “Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.” So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice. - Bill Murray, Caddyshack

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It’s Friday… Photo caption contest. Try to use the photocrank tool on the picture as well as the comments, the photocrank tool is really working out well. To use it just click on the photocrank widget on the lower right side of the picture, it will bring up a menu system and then you can crank away (on the picture that is… sleeping with altar boys when you are a priest is bad, mmmkay?).  Enjoy!

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Dear Mr. Man in the Yellow Hat,

I have some words of advice and a couple of bones to pick with you. First off, what’s up with the yellow hat, shirt, tie, pants, jacket, and underoos? Yellow is the color of cowardice and piss… the man in black would be hella cooler. Anyway, we all know you have a creepy affinity for animals, specifically little monkeys. Another eccentric man had the same inclination towards wild simians, his name is Michael Jackson, and we all know where that led. I’m not going so far as to say that monkey love is the gateway to pedophilia, but it’s probably a good start. I have my eye on you.

This letter isn’t the forum to discuss your possible preference for little boys, it is to discuss your discipline problem with your little monkey. Your little monkey, named George, is very inquisitive. We get that. The problem is it appears that you don’t. Week in and week out, George finds himself in a situation where he creates a problem, havoc ensues, and then while George attempts to right his many wrongs, some sort of mitigating factor comes into play (more often than not, George is just “cute”) that makes the situation OK. You are apparently ignorant to the shenanigans and typically show up after the shit has hit the fan and find yourself apologizing to the victims of the mayhem.

I am placing the blame for all of these problems squarely on your yellow shoulders Mr. Hat. In nearly every instance, poor George was left alone prior to his getting into trouble. I’m not sure about the rest of the world, but if I had a wandering monkey that got into a ton of shit when I wasn’t watching, I probably wouldn’t let him out of my site or allow him to skulk around off of a leash or out of a cage. But you have left him alone hundreds of times with the probability of a shit storm at 100%. Mr. Man in the Yellow Hat, you are a fucking idiot.

We all know you can spank your monkey, but what GEORGE needs is some discipline. If he gets out of line, break a finger. If he does it again, throw him into the closet for a week without food or water. Third strike, back to the fucking jungle with ya. I hope this helps.

Sincerely,

Billymac

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Best. Month. Ever. Some of you choads probably think that December is the best month ever because of that stupid holiday, but you’re wrong, May rules. In fact, my month could kick the shit out of your month any day, I don’t even have to hold it down.

May signals the beginning of summer… don’t tell me that June 20th or the 21st is the first day of summer, I know that shit, but when you were in school, it was May. Even if your school didn’t let out until early June, you’ve checked out in May, and in college, it was May. The weather is right, not too hot, not too cold, the broads break out their summer dresses, it’s time to grill out again with a couple of cold ones (beers not icy cold bitches), and you just have this incredible urge to scream out “SUCK ME BEAUTIFUL” at the top of your lungs.

The icing on the cake for Month awesomeness is the fact that I was thrust upon the earth in mid-may. That’s right cheebs, I wasn’t just born I was created from a lump of fine clay mixed with gold, silver, platinum, wine, beer, syphilis, a retarded midget, and topped off with a pinch of bitterness and entitlement.

Anyway… May rules… later.

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