My Love, The Jawbitch

I tribute this post to the love of my life. She calls herself jawbitch. I'm not gonna tell you what she does for a living this week, but it is related to her handle. Those of you who do know her, don't spoil the surprise. I'll tell you what she does next week. Until then, this morning's dialog:

G-man: Boy it was cold last night.
Jawbitch, with one eye open: mmmmm.
G-man: ya know, after 17 years of marriage, I have mastered sleeping on the four inch margin of my side of the matress. But last night was a different story. You not only took all of the blanket, but you would release none of it, so I was stuck with the slightest piece of a corner.
Jawbitch: STFU. If you put on some clothes when you go to bed, you wouldn't be cold.
G-man: I'm posting this.

So, let me have your guesses. BTW, the dialog doesn't help.

Weakly Reader

Did ya see the first 48 hours? I'm the guy who picks up his car from the garage after being in jail for three years:

G-man: I've been BUSY

Sorry, I'll write at least once a week. No, I'm not fearin jawbitch. She's packin to go out of town anyways. Maybe that will give me some time for the bruises and scabs to heal.

Did ya see the opener for American Idol? How come the homliest ones always sing the best songs? Like that spanky girl -- could you imagine if a hotty did that?

On the geek front, got my system up on eBay, check it out.

Debunking Internet Legends

Yesterday, I decided to take a quick break from my usual duties perusing tens of thousands of Confidential AEO documents, when I simultaneously received two emails. The first from my wife (jawbitch) and the second from the Librarian announcing that the Lexis research representative was here to offer free research assistance. My wife's email contained a popular Internet legend concerning the so-called "Stella" awards, named after the elderly woman who burnt the soft tissue between her legs with a hot cup o' joe from some other famous clown's store. You probably heard of it.

First, I tracked down the source of the story from jawbitch's Cali friend to this Ventura Co. Star article reproduced on Google

Then, I visited the Lexis rep and hit the keys. We researched, and here's the result, in an email to the columnist:

Dear Chuck:

This email is an invoice for $310 -- the time I spent researching the purported cases you published in the subject Ventura Co. Star article. I received an email containing your article, and I could not believe that journalists would not even bother to check whether the stories they hear are true. I researched the plaintiff's listed in your article on Lexis. There are no jury verdicts attributed to any of the plaintiff's you list in your article. There are no published decisions containing these litigants.

Furthermore, I took the extra step of checking whether there was any court dockets in any judicial forum anywhere in the United States for any personal injury cases involving any of the plaintiffs you name. I assure you, there are none. It took me a single hour to learn all this, but I don't come cheap, as the $310 the rate my firm bills me out per hour.

You should know that the First Amendment empowers the people by providing for a free press, but in light of recent events, journalists should at least check their sources. Whether they choose to divulge them or stay in jail is their choice, and not the subject of this correspondence. As I have done the checking for you, you should pay my bill. That would be an appropriate punishment for your irresponsible behavior.

Regards,

G-man

I Bequeath to Thee

So, pink comes over for some help with his xbox, which appears hopelessly trashed. As we are hacking away, Max gets curious:

Max: Daddy, what's this?
G-Man, holding a USB converter gizmo: it's one of Daddy's tools.
Max: Oh, when you die, can I have it?

The Dutch Oven

3 y.o. Max doesn't want to go to sleep at night. Last night, at 10:30 p.m., he's annoying everyone. After reading him and his sister several storybooks, he finally agrees to lay down. But he doesn't have his favorite stuffed animal. After searching the entire house, I give up. Meanwhile, my wife's pissed:

wife, toxically flatulent: He keeps waking me up. And you're being really mean to him.
G-man, gagging: well, you shouldn't go to sleep before him. And you shouldn't have turned the Dutch oven up to 450 under the blankets here.

With that, she vanishes into the spare bedroom. I ventilate with the bathroom blower for at least the next 45 minutes until my daughter comes in complaining she's scared. Rest assured I fall asleep, knowing that there isn't enough stink in her tiny body to choke out my dreams.

Who killed the power?

It figures. As soon as I leave the power company, the blackout happens! The big one. The whole northeast. Boy am I going to give my ex-boss shit at his retirement party.

More recently, I just get done configuring my ultra-kool, sleek new, wham-bang, Knoppix MythTV backend system, just so I can record the next episode of the only show I currently watch on tv, and the only one worth watching amongst the 115 channels of shit to choose from IMHO, ALIAS, when, you guessed it, the power quivers. I can always tell when it happens, because the flourescent lights in my kitchen go out with the least little perceptible drop in voltage. Sometimes the clock on the microwave blinks. Needless to say, I installed a surge protector the last time it happened, after I replaced the motherboard and integrated, seared onboard video. But that power strip didn't prevent the heads from crashing on my 160 GB Seagate, so, I guess I'll be reinstalling from Knoppmyth distro tonight. They say it only takes ten minutes, but they are LIARS! Bitch, get me another cup of coffee.

Fresh air

Boy this weekend was great, wasn't it? I was playing with the kids in the backyard:

Max: Daddy, push me really high on the swing.
G-man: Ok, but don't fall off.
Max: Doesn't it smell really good out here?
G-man: Yeah, really good. Smells kinda fresh, don't ya think?
Max: Yeah, fresh and good.
G-man: Almost as good as my own farts.
Max, grabbing the chain: Ok, you can stop pushing me now.