Fatty Fatty Fat Fat!

Recently, a couple different people have asked me if I've lost weight. I used to think this was flattering, but now I realize that they're really just calling me fat. Because, first of all, I'm pretty sure that I haven't lost any weight. Second, that's really only a question you ask fat people. You don't walk up to the emaciated skin and bones person and ask them if they've lost weight. Now, I'm not saying that it's intended as an insult. Quite the opposite, I think that these people are trying to compliment me. But it reveals that even though my clothes might mask it better that day or something, they really think of me as tubby. And these aren't skinny people who are saying this, either. No, it's other rotund folks.

I'm okay with it though. No insult intended, none taken. Although, now that I think about it I do partake of some pretty arduous ass-sitting all day at the office. And then I do several more reps ass-sitting in class. Unless, of course, it's not a school day. Then I do some full-on sprawling and lounging on the couch. Yeah, maybe they're right. I think I have lost weight.

Be a man and read your children's book!

As I was riding BART into work today, I noticed that this one guy was reading the new Harry Potter book. This, in of itself, is fine. but he's swapped out the Harry Potter dust jacket for the one from David Weber's War of Honor. Now, there are two very sad things about this. First, that this guy is apparently ashamed that he's reading a Harry Potter book. Now, I don't know the numbers, but I'm sure that there are a lot of other adults reading this book. I've seen several, myself and I'm also included in that number. And even if that wasn't the case, who cares? The second sad thing is that this guy apparently thinks that War of Honor has more BART cachet or something.


Now, if anything, reading this book is far geekier than reading any Harry Potter book, which are pretty mainstream. I mean, I like the Honor Harrington series as much as the next geek, but spaceships aren't any better than wizards if you're afraid of looking geeky or immature. So, I have no idea what this guy thought he was accomplishing. It would be like hiding your copy of Maxim magazine behind a copy of Hustler.

Anyway, it made me sad. So, Harry Potter readers out there, just read your book. Nobody cares. Nobody is looking at you and making judgments. Except for me.

Math is Sexy.

The weekend before last, I went going to the Hayward/Russel City Blues Festival for a barbeque and wine tasting. Or pairing or ranking or something. I dunno. Regardless, I was walking around the stands that they had up. There were the standards like local newspapers and various foods on sticks. There were a couple music stores that had brought inventory to sell and some with blues oriented art.

As I was headed back to meet up with Anne, I walked past the ACLU tent. I was mildly curious to see what they had in there so I poked my head in. It was pretty much what I expected. A couple ex-hippies and some idealistic looking young folks with a table full of pamphlets. I smile and nod in a way that I hope indicates that I support their cause, but absolutely have no interest in looking at any of the reading material that they have. I get some smiles/nods in response and this one guy kind of lounging in a folding chair says, "I like your shirt." This is kind of an odd comment because I am not, typically, the kind of person who gets complimented on his clothing and I'm just wearing a t-shirt with a short sleeve button down over it. But then I realize what's going on.

Let's hop in the way-back machine to two or three years ago, when my friend Will and I were playing a board game and I noticed that he was wearing this cap. My question to him: "What's with the math cap?" His response: "What are you talking about?" Long story short, the equals sign is the logo of the Human Rights Campaign, a lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender rights organization. Will, who's at least one of those, supports them and so wears their math-oriented accessories. Anyway, later that year, Will got me my very own math shirt for Christmas. It looks like this (small logo on front, big logo on back).

Fast forward to the weekend before last where I am wearing the HRC math shirt and am being picked up on by some skinny gay ACLU hippy guy because it was windy and my top shirt was no longer covering the equals sign on the tee. Now, I wasn't upset or anything, but I just didn't want to have a conversation with the guy based on the false premise that I was gay. On the other hand, I didn't want to say "I'm not gay!" because that can only lead to awkwardness. So I just thanked him for the compliment and went to go check out the fried okra.

If I were an astronaut...

Click for larger image

4 > 216

Today, July 14, 2005 is the 4 year anniversary of my marriage to my wonderful wife, Anne. It is also the 216th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille and the beginning of the French Revolution. So today, I bring you five reasons that Anne and I are better than France.

1. We've never lost a bid to host the Olympics.
2. We don't smoke.
3. We're not indiscriminately rude. Only to stupid people.
4. We've never been a Nazi puppet state.
5. No berets.

So, with this in mind, I ask you to cross Bastille Day off of your calendars and give July 14 the much more historically significant and, I must say, more fun title of "Bob and Anne's Anniversary."

Vote for your favorite crappy movie!

Rhino, the publishers of the Mystery Science Theater: 3000 DVDs have a poll for people to vote on which episodes they should bring out next.

Geeks, let your voices be heard! Click here and vote for The Day the Earth Froze (I must have the Sampo!), Soultaker, and of course anything with Gamera in it.

I can't dress myself

Apparently, I am incapable of picking out my own clothes. For the last three days, as I've been getting dressed Anne says to me, "Are you wearing that?" Now, of course I'm wearing that. It's plain to see that I've put it on. Very rarely do I put on a button down shirt just to wear around the house in the morning before changing into my real outfit. So it doesn't take a super genious (though I do have some of those qualities) to figure out that what she's really saying is "You look horrible and I'm embarassed that I married you."

Lets do a rundown of why my outfits were unacceptable:

1. Too blue (blue shirt with jeans)
2. Too ratty (grey long sleeve button-down)
3. Too blue (different blue shirt with jeans)
4. Too warm (long sleeve shirt, apparently to warm for today's weather conditions)

It's really a sad state of affairs. What's even more sad is that Anne bought most of these clothes for me and I still can't put them together in the right way. In my defense, I did try to buy my own clothes, but every time I did, Anne would want throw them out because they apparently were offensive to the eye.

But even the new system isn't perfect. I got Anne to buy me a Hawaiian shirt and when I put it on she laughed at me for like 15 minutes. That's kind of hard on the ego. I mean, I'm glad that she looks out for me. I can feel relatively confident in my appearance because I know that Anne has vetted my outfit. I just think it's going to hurt my street cred when I show up at the office with my mittens pinned to my blazer.

Screw you, Oakland!

In light of the terrorist attacks in London today, there were some BART delays on my morning commute to work. I've got no problem with that. Okay, it's probably a waste of time and energy, but it's not totally unfounded and it'll make people feel safer. Fine.

So what happened was they stopped each train at the West Oakland station to check it out for, I don't know, swarthy types or something. There was an announcement that there were delays because they wanted to check each train before it headed into the trans-bay tunnel. So what the fuck about all the stops and people on the train before them? "Oh, it's just Oakland and Hayward. Who cares if they explode?"

Okay, I realize that the tunnel is probably one of the biggest targets on BART and that resources are limited so they can't secure every station, but it doesn't make me feel any better about it. Fuck you, too, BART. You of the inflated salaries and strike threats. You of the fare hikes and train delays every time it rains. Fuck you. Although, I guess I didn't explode, so kudos for that.