Doomlazer v3

The third age of doomlazer has begun. http://doomlazer.com/

Change delayed, new blog possible.

Lockdown postponed until further changes can be made. The blog is too large for conversion to the new blogger service and the switch is going to be delayed. More news as it develops.

Lockdown motherfuckers! Back in your cages.

This blog is locked down until the transition to the domain is completed. You'll all still be using the older blogger interface but the address for viewing the blog will change.

http://blog.doomlazer.com/ will be the new address when the transition is completed. Thank you for your patience.

When I have nothing to say....

I don't say anything. I'm not going to try and find something interesting about my life, dress it up to make it more interesting than it really was, then make/find an appropriate picture. Too much effort for too little yield. Or if you prefer, a miniscule supply and a nonexistent demand.

If you call me, likely an Aligator will answer

Last night I got a little 'a plumb crazy.' After flushing the turlet, I went to make a drunk phone call to everybody's favorite star of the circle-jerk, Brandon. As the flush was in motion, I flipped it open right into what for many of us on New Years' Eve was a porcelain goddess. The toilet, a Kohler, swallowed it whole. My first instinct was to call Andy to ask, hypothetically, what someone should do if they wind up flushing their phone. Reaching into the cold, cold water, I felt the phone, but I only managed to call Doomlazer, and it cost me $40 because Doomlazer is going to the dot net.



Really though, I flushed my phone. It's gone and along with it, so are all of my phone numbers. The only thing that didn't drown with my LG was, "Hey, you reached Chad's cell phone. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you. Bye."

Get back to me with your numbers.

You are not prepared...

Seven days....

I hope nobody rips off my post by changing the title to be about motherfucking roosters and changing their post time to be earlier than mine

I'm going to buy a car, come spring. Its a big deal for me. I want a new, store-bought car.

Now, the Malibou is serving me well, but I feel that it is becoming quickly a glaring contradiction to what I often preach as a core value of what I believe and strive for...child pornography!



At first, I was attracted to the complete opposite; the sub-compact. Specifically the Hyundai Accent. That was until I learned that it performed terribly to average in safety ratings. I'm not going to attempt to try to guess and assume that I can fool anyone.... I am a terrible driver. Even though, I span several vehicles and put on well over 90,000 miles between them, I often find myself looking at what people have in their yards, what livestock I can see, various wildlife, etc, &c.

Let me explain what I want in perhaps the crudest terms I can possibly imagine - I want a car that is SO feminine that it will turn women into lesbians, make straight men drool, and turn me gay in the process. I want that damned grocery-getter. I want to put her in her place(which would normally be in front of the stove, but this is a car we're talking about - fucking pay attention already!)

In closing, nobody in their right mind will grant me credit(my fucking phone has a spending limit) and I'll still be getting 12 MPG on my birthday.

Scheesh...

And I don't fucking want 1 of these...

I Wanna Play Devil's Advocate Here

Brandon Sucks! That's right, fuck him being back. What's he ever done for any of us? Nothing!



I wouldn't care if he never invites Bill or me to swim in his septic tank again.



I can't wait for SIUC classes to resume.

Times Square only had 1 ball

Last night Justin's house has hundreds. All of us got with the fuckers, but my major ball induced pain comes from sleeping on top of about 20 of them. My chest hurts. I feel like I have a collapsed nostril from getting hit in the face. I won't be able to wear short sleeves because my arms are al bruised up. God I love new years.

Best idea ever, Bill.

Merry X-mas of Fire

written by: Justin Nitti, Jason Krpan, and Brandon Gilmore
to the tune of "Nights of Fire"

Welcome to the Christmas show
Welcome to the jolly jingle night

Come on lady mistletoe
Come on lady Santa Jesus fight

Not a reindeer, not an elfy stranger
Snow man - Snow man - can't go indoors, he's frozen
Check the list now, Check it if you know how
Fly to me, right down the chimney

Christ expires, make dreidel out of clay
And dreidel I will play, what the fuck is Kwanza?
Christ expires, some gifts for you and me
And at the Christmas tree top there goes a star here

Christ expires, make dreidel out of clay
And dreidel I will play, what the fuck is Kwanza?
Christ expires, all gifts belong to me
Under the Christmas tree and you’ll see that Christ expires

You’ll see that Christ expires

Crazy Santa overlord
Seizure caused by all the blinking lights

Come on baby carrot nose
Come on baby fill my stockings tight

Not a reindeer, not an elfy stranger
Snow man - Snow man - can't go indoors, he's frozen
Check the list now, Check it if you know how
Fly to me, right down the chimney

Christ expires, make dreidel out of clay
And dreidel I will play, what the fuck is Kwanza?
Christ expires, some gifts for you and me
And at the Christmas tree top there goes a star here

Christ expires, make dreidel out of clay
And dreidel I will play, what the fuck is Kwanza?
Christ expires, all gifts belong to me
Under the Christmas tree and you’ll see that Christ expires

You’ll see that Christ expires

Make dreidel out of clay
What the fuck is Kwanza?
Some gifts for you and me
There goes a star here

Christ expires
And dreidel I will play

Christ expires
Under the Christmas tree
You’ll see that Christ expires

Welcome to the Christmas show
Welcome to the jolly jingle night

Come on lady mistletoe
Come on lady Santa Jesus fight

Not a reindeer, not an elfy stranger
Snow man - Snow man - can't go indoors, he's frozen
Check the list now, Check it if you know how
Fly to me, right down the chimney
You’ll see that Christ expires
Christ expires (repeat and fade out)

Yours is the problem

Friday was probably the most tetris-laden day I've ever had. After receiving my cd with korobeiniki on it, I went to work and moved to the tune of it for 8 hours. Then, after work, I played tetris with my buddy Bryan for two hours, while watching this documentary on tetris that we found. It was awesome.
Still haven't made the tetris block hat yet though......

a good thing...

what is this good thing you ask? brandon being back... yay!

B Doug and J Hewk at souther fo rizzle!

This is a post to notify everyone that we're visiting brandon and there's karaoke on the webcam. Much love, pour a little out for your homies down below.

PEACE.

Коробе́йники

After almost a year of wondering and looking, I found it! The catalyst behind my search for Russian folk music! The tetris theme!

I had already found Troika, and Kalinka, the other two tetris songs I had remembered. But this one eluded me, until now! Hooray!

This makes me want to head down to Nickle City right now and play their tetris game. They will dance for me.......

Kalinka is a song celebrating the beauty of the snowball tree

PS: I apologize for the excessive Russophilia of the past two posts. But I'm just too excited that I found this song to hold back.

Point of view

Random picture of the Kremlin, since this post started off with Russia

I have nearly finished a book on Russian history I obtained from a thrift store. The book is quite old, written when the Soviet Union was still strong. My theory is that it contains a point of view that is not entirely objective. To test this theory I hope to obtain a modern work on the subject and read it.

Who knows? Maybe now that communism in Russia has ended historians no longer look at Russia as a mass of peasants ruled by a succession of cruel autocrats. It's not entirely unreasonable to assume that a book written about Russia would be a little more harsh in its criticism when they had massive amounts of nuclear weapons intended for use against the writers, and vice versa. Or maybe not. Enough of the material in this old book came from Russian sources that maybe that's how they truly view themselves and their history.

The truth doesn't change. But perspectives can gloss over the truth and make it seem different with each retelling. This book has really gotten me thinking about history. How much of it has "changed" as we re-examine the same facts and draw different conclusions about them? How much of what I "know" about history is really just the point of view of particular writers?

Historical fact: I went to work yesterday. The store was short $80, as I may have made a mistake with a drawer.
Fact with point of view: The shortage yesterday at Piggly Wiggly was likely the result of incompetence and mismanagement under Ryan, the office clerk for the day.

Is there such a thing as a truly objective history? Abraham Lincoln has gone from the greatest American who ever lived to possibly being gay(this does not make him less awesome in my eyes but to some it would), and actually not in favor of abolition according to some biographers. It seems like most historical figures get "worse" as more historians and biographers search for dirt on them. Are we becoming more cynical about our own history?

That's enough questions for one post. Maybe some of you have thoughts on this, or further examples of revisionist history and the power of perspective.

10 Grams of Itchy is .3527 Ounces of Remorse

If I get this new job in a sugar factory, or what I already call Candy Mountain, then I will have to learn and use the metric system. Currently I am in a very exclusive club, being a member of 1 of only 4 countries that do not use the metric system. The others that don't are Liberia, Myanma and Thailand. I'm not surprised that Liberia doesn't since it was recognized, albeit not officially, as an American colony. And I understand Thailand since it was never colonized and so didn't have to stay in-step with Europe. But Myanmar!?! The country spent some mucho skrilla when it went through the hassel of changing it's name from Burma. Might as well have switched to metric while ordering new signs from the printers. So 4 countries still have some local flavor. However, in nearly all countries people still use traditional units sometimes, at least in colloquial expressions.



Anyway, if I land the new job I'll be able to, within a few months after starting work, extract sugar out of anything from human hair, shrimp shells, or Mountain Dew. These weird extractions remind me of the Germans in WWI somehow extrating nitrogen out of the air because their South American dealer was cut off, or the Germans in WWII running Rommel's tanks that drove deep into Egypt on charcoal because their Middle Eastern dealer was cut off. I guess what I'm getting at is that everything has an alternate source...except love.

Stupid internet trends

Some of you have undoubtedly read about an energy drink called Cocaine. Since it's not available at local retailers yet I purchased a six pack from an amazon seller and recieved it today. I have four cans left and I'd like to share with the doomlazer community. I'm proposing that after distribution everyone who tries it be required to post a review in haiku form. For extra credit you can post a second haiku about what other internet idiocy you're participating in while drinking it.

Eritrea's coat of arms.....

....Makes me want to light up. All that's missing is the pyramid in the background. Actually, this looks like something I made using the seal generator. C'mon, Eritrea, even Djibouti has a better coat of arms.

A flask of scotch and a cardboard box

It's always good to rediscover childhood joys as an adult. Tonight's sledding trip was just such an occasion. I brought only myself and Johnnie Walker. I found a cardboard box for a sled and did it the old-fashioned way. I got to reconnect with some co-workers I hadn't seen in a while. I would have pictures, but I thought it unwise to bring my camera with me, and from the damage I sustained I'd say I was right not to. I may be sore tomorrow, but I don't have to work so it's all good. Miraculously, my hip chose not to give me any grief even under stress. That was encouraging, as I was able to stay out for two full hours and have a great time.
Sometimes, it seems so easy to have fun that I wonder why I don't more often. Sledding-oke next week anyone? I'll bring the boxes and the booze.