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March 27, 2005
Lanier Motor Speedway
Pics from our jaunt up I-85 last night to Lanier Motor Speedway... good times.
March 25, 2005
Geeky Fun
Transparent desktops. Geeky coolness... or cool geekiness. [via Waxy]
March 24, 2005
"So What Becomes Of Rehashed British Sitcoms My Loooove..."
Random notes taken while watching the premiere of the US version of The Office on NBC...
- Is it wrong to hope a show fails miserably?
- Uh-oh. This can't be good. Even the theme song doesn't work.
- The dude from the Daily Show (Steve Carell - ed.) is "David Brent"... here, Michael Scott.
- 9:32 - this train is already derailing.
- "Tim" looks like he's 12.
- Same jokes from the original aren't working.
- "Jennifer Taylor-Clark" isn't hot. Minus two points.
- Timing's all off... it's all about the timing!
- This is a high-school play. Check that, it's an Open Campus play.
- Everyone looks uncomfortable. Good. They know how I feel watching this.
- "Gareth" is a one-dimensional tool.
- Lobsterfest is ending soon at Red Lobster. Just thought you'd like to know.
- I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.
- ... this hurts.
- "Gareth" is still a tool. Wait, it's "Dwight". And he can't act.
- I'm gonna need a shower after this.
- ... did I mention this hurts?
- ARE THEY READING the lines???
- "Dawn"/"Pam" is almost as bad as "Gareth"/"Dwight".
- "You're a jerk" will never have the same effect as "You wanker".
- Oh God they rehashed the rehash of the jelly joke.
- Well, that's half an hour I'll never get back.
- When the funniest part of the 1/2 hour was the commercial for the new Ashton Kutcher movie, yup, you've got a shitty show.
March 14, 2005
Sometimes Heart Does Matter More Than Ability
"He is Tedy Bruschi," says one AFC scout. "He's one of those guys who is eternally pissed and motivated because people don't believe in him."
A good article on UGA's David Pollack as he prepares for his NFL future while carrying the stigma of being too small, too slow, and under-everything.
March 09, 2005
Dodgeball In The News
The Atlanta Adult Dodgeball League was featured last night in a piece on 11 Alive's 11 PM newscast here in Atlanta. Although my former teammates One Ping Only were conspicuously absent from the gripping expose', 11 Alive featured the story on their website and right there in the middle is the link to the league's website. The site I put together. I think this marks the first time something I've done has been directly linked by a real, bona-fide company-thingy. Isn't that cool?
I didn't think so either.
March 08, 2005
Hey Jenny Slater
Doug, fresh off his euthanasia of his blog, George W. Bush, Won't You Please Go Now??, has already come back kicking with Hey Jenny Slater. Not as political, not as abrasive, and sure to have more Elisha Cuthbert pics. Check it out.
I already earned Doug's "undying love and respect" (oooh. Woop-tee-doo) by being the first person to "get" the site's title. Anyone else? You've got to be a fan of grossly (wink wink) underrated films of the 90's.
March 07, 2005
Looks Like He's Going With The Driver, Jim
As Jason over at Kottke.org says, "There is absolutely nothing intentionally funny about this photo".
Luci On Tour
I've set Luci up with her very own blog... luciontour.blogspot.com. Those of you referred here by the Honourable Ms. Butler herself can now follow her exploits from there. But hey, feel free to visit here as well on occasion... I appreciate it!
March 06, 2005
DAve, Part Two
(continued from here)
When I was four or five, my parents, convinced I was going to be a brain surgeon on the Space Shuttle one day, took me to Emory University to submit me to a bunch of tests that would prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I was the smartest guy of all time. I don't remember much about the actual testing process except that I didn't take to the testing process and was content to look out the window at planes flying by rather than engage in the testing process. I probably did some Memory-type, remember-the-color tests, inkblots, square-peg-goes-in-which-hole? things, maybe not. As I mentioned I was too busy pressing my face up against the window. Nonetheless, when the whole thing was over, I was officially "gifted". Never mind that even to this day I don't tie my shoes correctly or can remember what I had for breakfast this morning... I was gifted. I was labeled. I was The Man.
Dear toddlers reading this: Whatever you do, if you're ever in a similar situation, don't, under ANY circumstances, do what the tester asks. If he says "What color do blue and yellow make?", put your hands down your pants, jump around, and shout "Pee-pee! Pee-pee!" at the top of your lungs. If he asks you perform some rudimentary long division, stab him in the throat with the pencil. If he gives you a crayon instead of a pencil, eat it. Whatever you do, don't "pass". Trust me.
If it sounds like I'm finally getting out some deep-seated resentment of my parents for putting me through all that, I apologize. I just think that kids and teens have enough pressure as it is without having to try to consistently live up to your parents' expectations (expectations heightened by some two-bit shrink calling you gifted).
OK, off the soapbox.
All that being said, my formative years weren't out of the ordinary (and maybe this was one of the problems). Dad didn't drink and beat me, Mom didn't fool around on the side. No one died unexpectedly, got arrested, had a heart attack, defaulted on a loan, won the lottery, saved orphans from a burning building. The only thing was the aforementioned sibling age gap.
Because of the large age difference (Charles was in college before I started first grade), I was for all intents and purposes an only child that just happened to have three brothers. By the time I was seven or eight, I was a latchkey kid. A loner. I had a lot of time to myself. Even though my dad was doing pretty well financially, my mom decided once I was old enough to make my way home by myself from school each day she'd go back to work. Apparently she would rather work than sit on the couch and watch TV, waiting for me to get home. My mom's weird.
I've always been a big sports fan, and ever since I was young I've tried to stay involved in something athletic, be it softball, dodgeball, basketball, tennis, football (briefly and rather unsuccessfully) and soccer. My first memory of organized sports, though, wasn't a fantastic goal (had quite a few, thank you very much) or a sensational catch (ditto); it's of my father literally dragging me, kicking and screaming, out the door, into the car, and off to church league tee-ball tryouts. I never felt an overwhelming desire to be surrounded by a bunch of "friends" for friendly competition. I was happy in my own little imagination. (My brother Charles relates that oftentimes he'd look out the window and watch me playing army man by myself, my gun a tennis racket, running around barking orders to my loyal imaginary troops)
After that first day of tryouts I never looked back though when it came to sports. I took to each endeavour whole-heartedly, and dominated my opponents unmercifully. Unfortunately my early athletic success simply altered my parents' expectations to include Sundays playing for the Falcons before taking off for another zero-gravity operation on Monday. But I'm not bitter. Seriously.
to be continued...
March 05, 2005
Hi folks
I guess I may be getting new visitors over the next few days since Luci (see previous post) sent out an e-mail about me mentioning her here.
So welcome. Some of you may be a bit taken aback by the eh, bluntness of earlier entries, for that I can only say that the opinions expressed herein in no way reflect the standards and/or beliefs of one Luci Butler and should not be interpreted as such. Do not eat. Do not expose to flame. Keep your hands and arms inside the car at all times.
DA
