my Sambas

Yesterday my Sambas of four years self distructed. The Samba, made by Adidas, is functonal mostly as an indoor soccer shoe, I wore mine everywhere.

Today I'm going to go wash my car, buy a new pair of Sambas (i'd like to try the Samba Milleniums if availability permits - else I'll stick with the Samba Clasics), and see about watching the super bowl somewhere.

Peace.

"I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party. " - Brick Tamland

Homer: Kids, how would you like to go... to Blockoland!
Bart & Lisa: Meh.
Homer: But the TV. gave the impression that--
Bart: We said "meh".
Lisa: M-E-H. Meh.

Meh, so the pants party didn’t work out so well. Despite the unsurpassed participation of the few attendees (everyone was wearing their pants) I feel like the party was a failure. Here’s how it went down:

2:05pm, I received a call from Emily, actually it was more like a series of text messages but for the sake of simplicity lets say it was a phone call, the gist of it was: let’s do something tonight. Cool, lets have a pants party, we’ll invite everyone, 9pm my place, tell them to bring “the party in their pants", beer and games. Awesome.

7:24pm, after sending out lots of invites and even receiving a number of confirmed attendances I received a call from Emily – she wasn’t going to make it.

7:26pm, fuck. Umm, ok… well all these other people I called might show up anyway, it would be cool to have a party, no point in calling it off. Right?

9:30pm, no ones here yet. Hum.

9:35pm, thought I heard a females voice outside laughing. Got excited that people were showing up – nothing.

9:48pm, checked my watch again between video games. Where is every body?

10:35pm, sent text message to Rob. “what’s happening?”

10:36pm, received reply via text message from Rob. Rob’s in El Paso he’s not going to make it.

10:38pm, Miles and Jaime show up. We joke about how I’m a failure at throwing parties, have a beer and play video games for a while.

12:05am, having speculated that this party had defiantly not happened and no one else was coming the three of us wild and pants wearing guys drive to Taco Bell. We purchase a Grande Meal at the drive through and head back to my place to throw a munch.

12:45am, Miles and Jaime leave. Pants party over.

1:00am, started feeling like I’ve forgotten how to throw a party. I remember being really good at it. People used to come in droves – you couldn’t beat them a way with a stick.

1:23am, submit blog article. Gah – I’m such a looser.

Local SUV Out of Gas

Thursday night Kristin Rogers, a young twenty something female found her self stranded on the side of the road in her Ford Explorer SUV. The female had pulled over off the main street after her vehicle “mysteriously stopped working.” Further investigation would later lead Rogers to believe the problem was an empty gas tank and that this was not her fault but the fault of rising gas prices, the war in Iraq, and passenger Raven Rotsaert.

Rogers contested that had it not been for Rotsaert she never would have driven that night in the first place and thus not ran out of gas. “If [Rotsaert] had given better directions and we didn’t have to make that one u-turn we’d of made it to a gas station,” said Rogers. When asked to comment on these accusations Rotsaert was reported to say: “Whatever.”

After making a few phone calls, a friend with a gas can rescued the two travelers, delivering the precious gallon needed to make it the nearest fill station just a few city blocks away. The rescuer was reported to have been laughing hysterically at Rogers stating, “I told you to get gas, HA HA HA, your gas light’s been on for days!”

xBox'n

Despite my better judgement, I've purchaced an xBox. Friend me then will yah... my "gamertag" is: SpoolinVR6

Post Hiatus

Who’s your daddy? So it’s been about a month (over a month!) since I’ve posted anything here. Well ok, so I posted the picture of the Vdub get together yesterday but I’m not sure that entirely counts as it really only took about 3 seconds (I’m that FAST!) of my time and didn’t involve much effort on my part.

During the hiatus I turned twenty-five (25!). I’m not entirely sure what this means other than I hear I get a break on my car insurance payment. If any one knows how this works, i.e how I reduce my monthly payment, we need to talk – maybe over a pint (brewskies!).

So I’m sitting in front of my key board right now just taking in the smell, it’s been a while – typing and all; it smells like a raccoon died in the wall or something, this inherently worries me ‘cause I mean, really, this is my place and I much more prefer the smell of new carpet and/or spray paint (where’s Leif when you need him). Given the benefit of hind sight I should have either consumed or thrown out all the perishable items in the fridge and taken out the trash before leaving ‘Cruces for the winter break.

Speaking of my keyboard, Jaime and Miles were over last night. Miles and I were playing some video games (GT4!) in the living room, Jaime had gotten up to use the rest room, upon his return he said – and I quote: “Wow, it’s so cool to see people still using those clam-shell-ibook’s.” In a moment of confusion I said: “Yeah, still run’in strong.” Now that I think about it I don’t under stand Jaime’s attraction to old Macintosh lap tops circa 1999 (1999!). I contest that someday I will in fact get a new computer, it’s just… this one’s still run’in strong.

January 16th is starting to become less awesome (25!). It used to be that I’d celebrate my birthday with the family, we’d have some elaborate dinner, we’d chill, make jokes about what ever, have some beer (brewskies!), and then play games till it was way past my mom’s bed time. Now the fam is out and about, on business travel, doing their thing and we have to celebrate, have some elaborate dinner, chill, make jokes about what ever, have some beer (brewskies!), and play games till its past my mom’s bed time on another, not January 16th, day that we can all fit in our schedules. It’s ruining the importance of January 16th (25!).

... and what better way to conclude than with a qoute:

Phil: Most people are bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling.

edit: aparently phil was quoting tv, ulltimatly i still dont get it.

Photo Update:

Wine and Pogo Sticks

For some reason my keyboard just tends to flow a lot easier after I’ve had a few to drink. Which is thus, indirectly my official excuse for not posting very often as of late; what does a guy have to do to get a drink around here!

Tonight’s beverage is of the red variety – a French style cabernet sauvignon out of California, to be exact. To say I was a wine connoisseur would be total malarkey. I haven’t been in the business of wine tasting for very long and even though I know what I like when I taste it, and I’ve gotten to the point where I might be able to pick a decent bottle out of the below $4 price point at Trader Joes, a real wine snob would probably “express amusement at the very thought of my choice in vintage." Meh, whatever.

Some day I might become one of these so called “wine snobs” if for no other reason than I’ll have had so much practice drinking the shit. Hell, I’m mostly a beer and coffee snob already - what’s one more to seal the deal? Snoby-snob, snob, snob.

So earlier today I’m minding my own business, trying to calculate the adiabatic flame temperature of the combustion of propane gas in 50% excess air – per some long drawn out take home final that may or may not be due tomorrow morning – when I hear it again. The mother-fucking upstairs mother-fucking neighbors are home. I don’t know who the fuck they fucking are, but I’m almost fucking positive that they fucking romp around on mother-fucking pogo sticks as soon as they close they’re front door. It’s loud as FUCK!

Now they’re listing to some bass thumping slow jams, I can hear the bass though the walls but at least they’ve lost interest in pogo sticks.

My Bro, help me to understand the nature of the beast younger sibling, and remind me how much I actually do love him.

My brother, lately, speaks in either a broken spanglish northern New Mexican accent or a regaled country bumpkin draw. The reasoning behind this was unclear to me at the time of my visit with him (Thanksgiving holiday) and despite receiving a few words of explanation it remains mostly unclear at present. I suspect the spanglish is a direct result of both spending time with Borracho and/or the Spanish Language class he is taking at the University. I find the spanglish extremely amusing and have begun to incorporate a lot of it into my daily conversation también.

I forget what prompted the exact reason for me to tell him “you know, sometimes you should think about why people are trying to get rid of the stuff they set outside for trash pick up.” Semi-unrelated, I recently learned of a scheme of his to go out on the nights before trash pick up and collect bags of aluminum cans set out on the curb for recycling. I’m assuming (read: hoping) he’s only picking up pre-sorted bags of aluminum and not mixed trash bags to latter pick out/sort the aluminum from it. I’d been pre-warned about this however by an email that simply read: “price per pound of aluminum = $1.20 I am gona be rich!” For my Bro’s sake I hope he can find a recycle center that still pays for cans.

I used to share a small apartment with my brother. It was impossible, or rather not probable, to come home and not find something new looming in the living room. I’ve come home to road signs, road cones, large lengths of rope, car parts, lumber/sheets of plywood, new very large “art” project materials… etc. The list goes on. Some days I’d be lucky and it’d only smell like spray paint inside the apartment, or I’d find a new poster staple-gunned* to the wall. It’s quiet now with out him.

My brother will let you when he is unwilling to exert the necessary effort to not “fuck up your shit.” Odds are “your shit isn’t worth it.”

He’s starting a hiking club in Albuquerque. If you’re female and you’ve been to a college party in ABQ recently you’ve probably heard about it. Upon pointing out that UNM has an actual hiking club I received this awesomely (I almost cried I was so proud of him) honest response: “Look man, I know there’s already a hiking club at UNM – I’m just doing this to puro meet chicks”

It's great talking on the phone with my brother.
Typical phone greeting: “Whad-up up man?”
Typical start of phone conversation: “Oh man I’ve been up to mad shit, I got all kinds done today… ”
Typical phone salutation: “Wheno-bye.”
Actual voice mail received (9/10/06): “Aye, necesito más peligro para la tortuga! [Pause] Wheno-bye.”

One of the things we have in common (maybe I learned from him, actually now that I think about it I did learn it from him) is we are both very honest with our parental unit. This means we tell them the truth or when faced with a situation when we know they wont approve of whatever goings on, we logically/conveniently omit the truth (i.e. turbos and other high dollar expenses).



* Definition: sta·ple gun n
a powerful device used to project heavy metal staples into wood or masonry**

** I also use a staple gun to affix everything to the walls.

Per Melisa per Lacey: too good not to post

I'm not sure I know what to think about this... Comment as necessary.

As long as females can fool males in thinking they're faithful

At the heart of all long-term relationships lies a fundamental deception WOMEN only stay with men for security, and men only stay with women for sex. It's a cynical view of human relationships, but researchers now say it is the driving force behind the evolution of monogamy--and women started it. By offering sex all the time, females in monogamous species disguise whether they are fertile and trick males into sticking around.

In most species, females only have sex when they are fertile. This is because sex takes energy, and carries the risk of disease. But it also means males can easily tell which females are fertile, so they don't waste time on mates that won't get pregnant. Indeed, males usually give females no help in raising their offspring. "The male strategy is to stay with the female for as long as she is fertile, and then to leave," says zoologist Magnus Enquist of Stockholm University.

But in some species, including birds, porcupines and humans, the girls have wised up. By cutting down on visual and chemical cues, and by having sex all the time, they stop males from telling whether they are fertile. "The male has no cue," says Enquist. "All he can see is the behavior of the female."

Once males are blind to a female's condition, he says, it's no longer worth their while chasing lots of partners, because the one they're with is as likely to be fertile as any other. "There is a search cost. It takes some time to find a female."

Although this idea makes intuitive sense, until now it was a mystery whether the trick works. Normally, a male choosing a stable relationship over a philandering lifestyle would have fewer offspring, putting him at an evolutionary disadvantage. Would women hiding their fertility by offering sex continuously be enough to tip the balance?

Enquist and his colleague Miguel Girones from the Netherlands Institute of Ecology in Nieuwersluis decided to investigate. They created a mathematical model to test the theory, and found that under certain conditions, monogamy is the preferred option. Even in a population where males were used to having many partners, if females started to conceal their fertility, the males settled down into long-term partnerships.

"Classical explanations of sexual behavior always focus on the male," says Enquist. "But this gives stronger focus on the woman." Evolutionary biologist Anders Moller from the CNRS, France's centre for scientific research in Paris, agrees. "This is driven by females," he says. "When ovulation becomes concealed, the males stay with the females longer."

But animal behavior expert Mike Siva-Jothy of Sheffield University argues that tricking males into being monogamous isn't the only reason for females' high sex drive. Having lots of sex with lots of different males might ensure that at least some of their off spring were fathered by good-quality mates.

Although this idea doesn't fit with the traditional view of monogamous societies, Siva-Jothy points out that even in species where pairs bond for life, the females cheat. "When avian biologists went out and looked at the DNA profiles of the offspring, they found that everyone was having a romping time," he says. But so long as females can fool males into thinking they are being faithful, their strategy of hidden fertility will still work. "They have to be cryptic because they don't want their partner to find out," says Siva-Jothy.

Source Citation: Marchant, Joanna. "Sex, lies and monogamy.(research into the habits of monogamous animals)(Brief Article)." New Scientist 170.2288 (April 28, 2001): 4. Expanded Academic ASAP. Thomson Gale. NMSU Las Cruces. 6 Nov.2006&contentSet=IAC-Documents&type=retrieve&tabID=T002&prodId=EAIM&docId=
A74885887&source=gale&srcprod=EAIM&userGroupName=nm_a_nmlascr&version=1.0>.

Dressing Like an Engineer

When I think about what Engineer's dress like I have a few mental images that pop into my head of typical garb.

First and for most I look towards my university Professors for the latest in post 1970’s engineering fashion. This dress typically includes a flannel patterned button shirt, kaki slacks, dress-up-black belt, and some light colored Nike® kicks. This type of dress seems fairly typical of other engineering professionals I’ve seen with the exception of the ever-popular Polo® t-shirt, often adorned by a company logo of sorts. This seems to be widely accepted as proper business attire and although I’d much rather wear a pair of jeans; it beats the hell out of having to wear a suit and tie.

Second, I look up to my current boss, a certified PE, and technical field engineer. His dress is similar with only a single exception. In place of the minimalist type dress-up belt previously mentioned he sports a rather hefty utility belt. He tots all sorts of things along thoughout the day by means of affixing them to various clips and holsters on said belt. Despite the batman-esque look and uber *$_&/#(! tendency of such an appliance, I have to admit the preparedness and utility of always having small tools and a flash light on hand does have its benefits.

I cant really remember where I was going with this anymore… I'm sure there was some point in bringing this up.

Insert random conclusion here.

FIN

What is it about the people's car?

In this short our boy Adolph is informed his car has been stolen, and recovered - stripped to the bare shell. Watch the video for a very decent rant about why any other car is just a piece of shit.

I wont ruin the ending, but if you're fluent in German you'll want to pretend you're not and just read the english subtitles.

Miscellany

Just a few head lines and updates...

Turbo Install
I've been hesitant to post up about this mostly because I don’t have any pictures of it yet. But it's done, its running - its boosting - it's quick. Basically it is the same car till about 3k rpm, the turbo kicks in like a ton of bricks and the tach races to redline. Under boost it sounds like a lion, then the measly 6psi of intake pressure blows off with the sound of a small mouse pissing in a puddle.

The install was straight forward as can be. We (Cisco and I) got started at ~5pm on Friday afternoon and worked through the night to make the inogeral test drive at ~8am on Saturday.

So far no leaks, no surging, no problems.

School
They say grad school isnt for everyone. I dont see why, it's not so bad. It's a good chance I might get straight A's (for the first time in my life), I'm making bank as a TA, and I'm not stressed at all.

Favorite class so far is ME 570 (Analysis I) - not sure why though. Actually now that I think about my favorite class being Fouier Series and Eigan value problems I'm starting to worry about myself as a human being. Can I have my soul back now?

This Weekend
I'm going home to Santa Fe this weekend for two main reasons. One, bring Muffin home. Two, attend a "Cigar and Car Bomb, Cape Party." If you're not in the know on either of those two points dont fell bad - I'm not even sure why or what I'm doing on the subject(s).

It'll be the first time driving the Corrado on a long trip since the install. Also, the first chance that I might have to tell my parents that there's a turbo in my car now (I'm not of the impression that they'll understand why I would do such a thing).

Planning to be back for the Aggie Football game on Sunday. Might join the body painters. As seen at the last home game, pictured right.





Edit: It was cold as fuck.

The Good Humor Co.

Back by popular demand, Brought to you by the Good Humor Company; It's Popcicle Stick Jokes!

Q: What kind of License does a refigerator have?

A: A license to chill.


ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!11!

Boost’n

In the past I’ve posted about going turbo with the Corrado. So this time… I’m serious!

On Friday afternoon I called up Kinetic Motorsport and ordered Stage1.

The various boxes of goodies should start showing up from Canada late next week (or so). I’m pretty extremely excited.

Edit: This morning when I woke up I went out to the car, sat behind the wheel in the parking lot and just thought about what an extra 100 hp is going to feel like.

You know what really grinds my gears?

There is a group of students in my classes that are starting to piss me off. Each one in this particular group behaves in the same manner (hence referring to them as a “group”) – each of them have the same frustrating social dyscrasia that makes them similar to each other. They dress exactly the same in one of two outfits that the group seems to coordinate between days. On Monday-Wednesday-Friday it’s a dress shirt and tight – look at me, I can show you what my balls look like with out dropping my pants – slacks. On Tuesday-Thursday it’s a WWF tee shirt with stone washed jeans circa 1984.

I can get past 10 guys walking, talking and dressing alike; I can even see humor in it (believe me I’ve laughed). It does bother me however, when they disrupt class by talking to them selves and then blurting out wrong answers. Its even worse when they give wrong answers in unison – it sounds like an auditorium right before they tell everyone to be quite and pay attention... murmmor, murmomor, mmmmurmorrr.

In contrast, when you have a one-on-one conversation with them they stand to close and (take into consideration how close they’re standing when I say this) talk below the audible decibel range.

Obviously if there were such a group of people that you had to deal with everyday you’d have come up with a nick name for them. If anything just to make referencing their actions to others easier. It makes sense. Moreover you’d pick a name that highlighted their similarities as a single entity. Basically, something like: “The Wrestling Fans” or “Team Tight Pants.” Shame on you.

I lovingly refer to them as “The Indians.” It was a natural choice for me as in addition to their aforementioned parallelisms they are all of Indian nationality.

All racism aside about the way they smell (even though the stereotype holds), I wouldn’t label them as “The Indians” if they all were not of the same nationality, and I wouldn’t be writing this rant if there wasn’t something they did as individuals that pissed me off.

Today we had a quiz. I was done quickly – not the first done but nonetheless admittedly fast. So I had a chance to sit around with nothing to do but observe those who were still working. When the professor called time and picked up the remaining quizzes it appeared as though most students stopped on queue and handed 'em in, some even uncompleted. The Indians kept working.

The prof asked again, “Quizzes? Hand them in.” He paused. “Ok, I have all the quizzes?” He then began to go over the solution on the chalkboard. At this point, one by one, the Indians would stand up and sneak in their quiz papers into the pile at the front of the room or something to the effect of working on it some more and then trying to hand it in after the solution had been posted. Point being they knew they were in the wrong they were sneaking. Sneaking!

Finally, the prof who now seemed upset (and rightly so), flat out stated he was NOT going to accept ANY more. And at the brink of yelling he said: “I realize there’s a language barrier here but you guys need to be way more responsive to the things I ask. When I say turn them in now, I mean NOW.”

A good 2 minutes later the last one turns one in.

To conclude this rant I’ve got some anonymous comments I received after doing some pre-blog venting:

Sent at 4:59 PM on Wednesday
********: Well, don't call Dell for help, they'll send you to a call station in India where the mother fucker on the phone knows so little English its really just to piss you off to the point that whatever was wrong with the machine seems moot.


Sent at 10:44 AM on Wednesday
******** ******: Yeah, there were tons at my school. They used to hang out all night in the computer lab and the whole place reeked of ass and curry.
They changed the chairs out my senior year, and suddenly the computer lab didn't stink. It was real gross, those chairs were vile.