Archived News starting from 07-21-2006 and earlier
BlogYears have passed (4.5 to be
exact) since the
Gnome Cam began dutifully snapping captures of my porch at 5-minute intervals. Through those years, as the cam became a witness to history, I've had a frequent request for faster update times. The request usually goes something like: "That cam is super mega awesome, your porch is like happening central! I can't get enough of it! I need more than just 5-minute intervals of capture goodness!" to which I reply "Not even
Stavos can convince me to up the capture time, friend." I was happy with this answer for almost 5 years, but lately I've begun to realize how important my porch is to humanity, and how selfish it is to only share 5 minute increments of it with the world. Thus,
Gnome Cam Live is born. Because I'm a Microsoft zealot who hates all things non-Microsoft (or because Media Encoder comes free and I'm cheap) it only works for sure in Windows Media Player. Also, the timing of my live cam has nothing at all to do with the recent release of
Duane's live cam.
Joseph has gone back to cross-country truck hauling and lastnight he hauled 30,000 lbs of paper towel to a distributor. I have never seen 30,000lbs of paper towel in my life, but I imagine it takes up quite a bit of volume. Today he found out exactly how much volume it is when they spent over eight hours unloading it with a forklift. I wished him good luck with his load and went on with my life a bit more knowlegeable about the transportation of goods in this country.
Tonight marked the end of my 4-day
Milwaukee odyssey. The trip started as a visit to Lisa's brother and her new nephew; but quickly escalated to record temperatures and cheap beer. After arriving Friday night the temperature proceeded to climb to and remain in the 90's the entire trip, topping out at
100 degrees on Sunday. The only logical thing to do was visit a brewery and take the $3 unlimited sample tour to maintain hydration, which was exactly what we did. After drinking all the beer and pop we could hold, we decided to call it a night and rest up for the next days
custard adventure. On our way back, Lisa decided to drive in an
unsafe manner which required some
quick talking on my part to keep her out of jail.
For those of you who actually read this far, and believe we were driving around in 208 degree temperature, at which point the human body begins to boil, it was actually
closer to half that, but the engine temp seemed to be more inline with perceived reality.
Cougarfest, the yearly event I started for 1999-2002 Mercury Cougars ended yesterday. This year I drove down on Tuesday, July 4th for a total of five nights, the longest Cougarfest I've had yet. Fortunately I wasn't the only nut who showed up so early, and we decided to celebrate the holiday by
lighting fireworks off the
hotel roof. Naturally the security guard was not happy with our choice, and confiscated our stash. The next morning we found out just how much money Cougarfest brings in to the hotel when we were apologized to and our fireworks returned to us by the management. Never before have I been apologized to for comitting an illegal act. Highlights from this year include a
15 Cougar drive-in,
pool volleyball,
Karaoke,
rental car abuse,
Ranger abuse and the events leading to the
best photo of me ever. The Canadians and my local group of Cougar owners always make the event enjoyable, but this year everyone was also blessed with the entertainment of
laughing seizure Lisa, who despite having little interest in Cougars still managed to have a great time. The drive to and from Cougarfest was uneventful, so I entertained myself by
zipping up and down our caravan from time to time.
Caravan Photos |
Event Photos
Lastnight Lisa and I went to see the Waterford fireworks at
Maceday lake after a short round of
Disc golf. By pure dumb luck we managed to park right next to where they were launching the fireworks. So close in fact that my car was parked
right next to the fireline. As we got
settled, a beat up pickup truck flew into the space between my Cougar and the no-parking sign, breaking through the fireline tape in the process. My sphincter clenched as I thought of my car being hit, or burning from the various sparklers the 8 hick kids in the back were now waving near the hood of my car. Lisa jerked as her maternal instinct kicked in, but I held her back. I told her how I had
burned a BoohBah with some hicks just last weekend, how my hick friend
Keith in Mississippi had recently shot a bird while I was on the phone with him, and that
Duane was becoming an honorary hick. I was convinced my "faggoty girl car" reeked of hick smell from my proximity to my friends and my recent travels to Brighton and Howell. I knew the toothless people in the pickup would pass my car off as just another car on blocks abandoned by the side of the road. The fireworks commenced shortly afterwards and we imitated "The Smurfs" with plenty of ooo's and ahhh's. The hick truck took off after the disappointing grand finale most likely to make moonshine and pass out somewhere. We were
almost home when I felt a wobble in the rear end (the cars, not mine) and pulled over fearing sheered lugs. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw it was only a flat tire and had Lisa time me as I changed it. Today I brought the tire to a firestone dealer ranting and raving about a failed sidewall belt to which he replied "somebody knifed your tire, man." The knowledge that the hick truck people had slashed my tire rushed in and I felt betrayed by the hick community. The tire guy took pity on me and offered to replace my $120 tire if I purchased $60 worth of road hazard warranty. He also told me that categorizing a group of people based on their appearance or lifestyle was called stereotyping, and was not a reliable method of predicting behavior or actions of individuals believed to belong to this group. I knew he was right, and took the whole incident as a life lesson: when a hick approaches your girl car, pull out a firearm and aim for his head, that's the only way to stop them.
As
you can see, the Gnome Cam has been hit by a focused electromagnetic pulse weapon. I can only assume my neighbor fired the shot as he's been bragging about taking down jets over his house with his
EMP gun recently. The gun is not all that accurate so I'm guessing the cam was only hit with fallout from a close shot, resulting in the melted images it's currently sending. This would also explain why my printer has been randomly printing fascist paraphernalia. Since a
new camera is over $100 I'm hoping the problem will fix itself like it did
last time an EMP hit it.
Leaving a meeting at work, on my way to Beta house to paint the porch, I remembered I needed two bags of mulch. Finding myself on my motorcycle doing 90 down I-275 when I remembered this gave me an insane idea. Pile two bags of mulch over the rear seat and hope like hell they don't fall off. By some miracle the bags maintained integrity and position during the whole 5 mile trip. Having gained confidence I'm now eager to carry other obnoxious and unsafe articles on the back of my bike, such as
Lomar
This weekend was
Lisa's move weekend into her new Condo. People as far away as Howell and
Ohio flocked to participate in this unforgettable event. Lisa's
hard work and
use of electronics made the move entertaining, but she was very careful not to strain herself lifting any
heavy objects. Thanks to
Superman,
Assman and the
UnaBomber we got everything moved in a day and a half. I can honestly say I've never been
more excited in my life.
Tonight was
bike night in Royal Oak, and Jaird and I decided to see what it's all about. Motorcycles loop around a section of main street waiting for cars to leave parking spots, then swoop in and fill it up when they become available. The result is almost the entire section
lined with bikes, and a few
pretty full parking lots. I did mange to find one other Ninja 250 whlie we walked around so I confirmed I wasn't the only slow one there. On the way home I found out my bike tops out at 95mph with 11,000 RPM's in top gear. It just wouldn't go any faster. Jaird also thought it was a neat discovery until he kicked down a gear and took off. I yelled that I get 70mpg but I don't think he heard me since he was already in the triple digits.
In keeping with our illusion of living the high life and vacationing every month, Lisa and I joined some fellow Cougar owners for our annual
Niagara Falls trip. Lisa was not a Niagara Falls virgin, but she hadn't been in almost 15 years so she faked it to make me feel better. We
saw the sites,
had a BBQ, and I sacrificed some heterosexuality at the butterfly conservatory. Also,
I love broccoli.
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