GOOGLE IS GOOD, BUT NOT THAT GOOD



Actual referral from my referrals page:







I understand the sentiment, dude, but really, how is Google going to know who your sister-in-law is? Names, we need names! Try again, and let me know how it goes.

TOP TEN NEW HONG KONG TOURISM SLOGAN IDEAS



Hong Kong recently had to scrap plans to introduce their new tourism slogan, "Hong Kong Takes Your Breath Away" in light of the SARS epidemic. Here's what they've come up with so far as a replacement:



10. That Surgical Mask Becomes You!



9. Come To The Hacking, Phlegming, Aching, Fevery Jewel Of The Orient



8. Visit For The Scenery, Stay For The Hospitals



7. A Vacation To Remember...If You Live



6. All The Codeine You Want!



5. What Better Place To Get Quarantined?



4. Chow Yun Fat and Jackie Chan Dare You To Visit, You Bunch Of Wussies



3. Only a 5% Death Rate, Better Than The Bronx



2. Make Medical History!



And the Number 1 new Hong Kong tourism slogan idea is:



1. Hong Kong: Flu-ey!!!!

NEO NAZI



I can't tell if I hate everything having to do with The Matrix Reloaded, or if it's just the machines controlling my brain that are making me think I do.

JOAN OF DORK



Speaking of music, what is the deal with this new Joan Armatrading song, "Lovers Speak"? The lyrics read "I want to learn the language of love/ I want to learn how to flirt". Jeez, Joan, how old are you anyway? You have to be over 50. You're a Member of the Freakin' British Empire for crying out loud. You really ought to get out more. My wife used to teach 7th and 8th grade girls in South Philly who were juggling a half dozen boyfriends each, maybe you can ask them.

MUSIC TO SOOTHE THE SAVAGE CONSUMER



Recently, I've noticed that nearly every time I go to the grocery store, or the mall, or to a sporting event, invariably, I will hear a song which is on a CD that I actually own. For the first few times, this was quite pleasing. "Hey," I would say to my wife, "they're playing the BoDeans, from 'Home'! I own that. How cool is that?" Then, something finally occurred to me. The world is not suddenly catching up to my hip musical esthetic. What's happening is, I am getting old. The music I liked when I was young is now so completely vanilla and unthreatening that it's being played to general audiences to put them in a positive mood so that they will buy things.



So later, I bought an iPod and stored my entire CD collection on it so I could listen to it while at the gym, and ever since, I can't stop buying more stuff. Stuff I don't even need, too, like a wi-fi card for the PocketPC I never use, and the Odd Todd Handbook. I've even memorized my Discover card number. You know, I really think I've stumbled on to a marketing bonanza here. If I can get people to listen to my iPod for an hour, they'll buy anything! Now I just need to market my CD collection to different retail outlets and ask for a percentage of the increased sales, and I'll be a wealthy man. Then I can finally get that Sharper Image Coca-Cola Wurlitzer Nostalgic Soda Machine I've had my eye on.

THAT'S GOOD EATIN'



No hilarious blog entry today. Not that there ever is. Anyway, I spent most of the day explaining to a sales rep that our business is probably irretrievably lost to his competition, and that I didn't make the decision, and that the guy who made the decision hates his company. And he bought me lunch. So, it was a pretty good day.



For more on my feelings on vendor lunches, click here.

CAN I GET THAT DIRECT DEPOSITED?



The Recording Industry Association of America has settled its lawsuits with four college students who offered thousands of copyrighted recordings for illegal downloading. The students agreed to pay sums ranging from $12,000 to $17,500.



In related news, the RIAA also announced that it would pay a lump sum of $100,000,000 to the record-buying public for releasing over a decade worth of Yanni, Kenny G, and John Tesh albums.

KILLER FUNGI



An Army Cavalry platoon searching Iraq today may have found some chemical weapons. "Well, we're not sure what we've found. We'll have to do more testing," said Lt. Valerie Phipps. Lt. Phipps did elaborate that the items found are extremely obnoxious smelling, and could be used as part of a mobile bio-weapons program.



Click here to view a photo of the suspected lethal agents.

THIS IS THE TITLE



I'm adding an entry now, because this is supposed to be a web log, as if I'm keeping a record of something. In this case, it's of my complete dearth of ideas. I've had a migraine the last two days, so coming up with blog ideas is about 1,247,432 on my "list". Not that I have a "list". I pretty much live from moment to moment. Especially when I have a migraine, when I wish every moment would be my last. I'm better now. But I still have nothing to say. Bye.

C'EST LA GUERRE...OOPS, I MEAN...NEVER MIND



The New York Times revealed (login req'd) yesterday that the Bush re-election team will be going after leading Democratic Presidential contender Sen. John Kerry by alleging, among other things, that he "looks French". What the story failed to mention is that the Bush team has a list of other strategies for the remainder of the Democratic field.



John Edwards: "John" sounds like "Jean". Too French.

Dick Gephardt: "Dick" reminds everyone of the French love for sex.

Joe Lieberman: German name. Plus, as a bonus, he's Jewish, so he helped kill our Lord and Saviour (use last one only in the South and maybe Utah).

Howard Dean: Comes from Vermont. "Vermont" is French for Green Mountain. They must be crawling with 'em up there.

Bob Graham: Graham crackers must be French. They are used in fancy pies and stuff.

Carole Mosely Braun: Looks too much like Josephine Baker.

Dennis Kucinich: Um, been seen eating French fries. Who cares?

Al Sharpton: Right. As if we need a strategy. Our strategy is his hairdo.

LIKE YOU EVEN CARE



Hey, I finally added an about page!

HOPE YOU HAD A HAPPY...WHATEVER



Yesterday was some sort of a holiday, I guess. This being a secular society, I've never been quite sure what it is we were supposed to be celebrating yesterday. Here at TCP headquarters, my wife and I celebrated the first Sunday after the full moon following the vernal equinox with the usual fertility rites of coloring eggs, worshipping rabbits and eating copious amounts of chocolate, in honor of Pan, I suppose, or some such deity. Then we ate a traditional meal consisting of a main course of ham...for some reason. And then we, um, well, performed more fertility rites. Then I watched Six Feet Under while she read a book. I don't think that had anything to do with anything, but I thought I'd mention it in case someone knew anything.



Target was closed yesterday. What the fuck?

OH DEAR, OH DEAR



Ok, let me get this straight. We spent the last year or so trying to convince the world that Saddam Hussein's regime had weapons of mass destruction. We sent in inspectors, made speeches at the UN, and built up our military presence. When none of that worked, and Saddam never turned over his WMD, and the inspectors never found any WMD, we invaded the country and toppled Saddam's regime to get rid of the WMD that he must have been hiding.



The war is over, so now we need to rebuild Iraq. Since we feel like we shouldn't have to ask the US taxpayers to do it alone, we're asking the UN to remove its sanctions on Iraq so that some oil money can start flowing in. If you recall, the UN sanctions are in place because the US and the other members of the Security Council were all convinced that Iraq had WMD. Once we took over the country, we looked around and so far we haven't found any WMD. So, what that means is, the US is now in the position of trying to convince the UN that Iraq doesn't have any weapons of mass destruction, so that they will lift the sanctions.



I've got it. I think. Hey, did that rabbit just check its watch?

WHERE'S THE OTHER SHOE?



The war is over. The threat level has been reduced to yellow. It's 80° and sunny out. I'll be attending my fourth baseball game in the last two weeks tonight. The new Christopher Guest movie is out. I hate to say this, but, I think I'm...happy.



I don't trust it. Not for a second.

MOST SOMETHING, ANYWAY



Malibu's Most Wanted, the new film from Warner Brothers opening Friday, has earned the distinction of being the 1,000th Hollywood feature film to portray a white guy acting black. The coveted award nearly went to Touchstone Pictures Bringing Down The House, which, due to a clerical error, was released a few weeks earlier. Warner Brothers Studio chief Dan Fellman was thrilled at receiving the honor. "It's not every day you can make history, and we are so proud. We knew we had a chance when this picture was in production, and we thought we had blown it there for a while, but when that other movie came out, well, we were surprised and happy." Fellman went on, "We at Warner Brothers have done a lot to advance the white guy acting black genre through the years, so we felt it was fitting and appropriate that it would be us to get number 1000. Still, when it happens, you're in awe a little bit."



Hollywood starts on its next millennium of white guy acting black films this summer with Fox's Barbershop 2, In Utah

AS SEEN IN SOLDIER OF FORTUNE

LEAVING SO SOON?



The Houston trip is almost over. Finally. Today, an old co-worker from my former job canceled dinner plans on me because of a work-related emergency. Aside from that, it was more of the same Camp Gitmo-style torture in the training class, which mercifully ended an hour early. Then a con man tried to get my money. It was quite a final day to a memorable sojourn.



The con man was pretty slick, although he didn't have much stick-to-it-ive-ness. He gunned his white rental car and screeched to a stop between me and the hotel room side door as I was bringing back my drive-through bar-b-cue (yes, they have that in Houston, and thank God). He emerged from the vehicle perfectly coiffed with a starched white shirt, suspenders and slacks, shook my hand, and started prattling on in a deep Texas drawl about how he is down here from Dallas and his credit card is maxed out. I simply said, "No, I can't help you, sorry," and he was on his way to another potential stooge. I quickly scurried to my hotel room to await the next bit of strangeness. Nothing so far, although I have until 7:55 AM tomorrow morning.



You think 12 hours is too much time to wait in the airport?

HOUSTON, WE HAVE BOREDOM



Day 3 brought yet another very long day of training. It turns out that the woman who got up and left early yesterday had wet clothes. She had taken another co-worker back to their hotel during a break because he was sick, and it had been raining heavily at the time. She sat there in the class in silent discomfort for about an hour until she just couldn't take anymore. Very odd.



This episode inadvertently led me to having to take in an Astros game alone. I had bought four tickets when I knew I was coming to Houston, in the hopes that I could get three of my classmates to go with me. The guy who was sick and another female co-worker, not the one with the wet clothing, had indicated that they wanted to go, but when the guy got sick, the woman decided, I suppose, that a night out with me would be less preferable than sitting alone watching TV in a medium priced hotel room in a strange city, which is not a unique appraisal. I don't mind watching baseball games alone, but it's becoming too much of a habit. I think I am the only baseball fan left, sometimes. The 18,547 idiots at Minute Maid Park last night hardly qualify. You can build the people of Houston a beautiful new ballpark, but they still can't show up on time, sit the fuck down and watch the damn game.



Well, it looks like Saddam has joined the choir invisible. His head will be shortly on its way to Kennebunkport to be presented to George H.W. Bush in a bizarre Yale Skull and Bones ritual. And now the real fun starts. Not here of course. I'll be on an uncomfortable flight back to my usual boring life all too soon.



Late note: Paula Zahn is interviewing embedded journalist Luke Hunt on CNN. I thought she said something else when she introduced him by his full name.

THE HOUSTON CHRONICLES, CONTINUED



Ok, try this three-word phrase on for size: Strip Mall Churches. That's Houston.



Also, you have the Irresistible Force of Arctic Air Conditioning ever doing battle with the Immovable Object of Stifling Arm Pit Humidity.



My fellow trainees are feeling about as frisky for this class as I am. Today I witnessed the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. With about 5 minutes left in one of the longest days I've ever endured, one of my classmates inexplicably started packing up her things and simply left, while the instructor was in mid-sentence. Another woman in the class had ridden with the first woman from their hotel, so she had no choice but to leave also. The rest of us looked at each other, a bit stunned. The instructor, faced with a mutiny, simply stopped talking and said, "OK, see you tomorrow." Sheer brilliance. If only she had done it 20 minutes earlier.

JUNKET BONDING



I'm writing this in a hotel room in Houston, a city that is a diverse, cosmopolitan mecca of commerce, and also a sprawling, garish, Southern white-trash, Christian Coalition hick town at the same time. And it seems very comfortable in its own peculiar skin. I'm here for a training class, which I intend to mentally process the same way I do reruns of "Wings", which is to say, with extremely detached and very, very slight amusement. So, basically, it's a junket, a chance to escape the mundanity of my normal work week for another, slightly different mundanity in another city.



So far, it's been fun. I was greeted by a wake-up cockroach in my bathtub, which is always a nice touch. The high-speed Internet connection is working, which it should considering you could pay about a hundred migrant workers to hand carry notes back and forth to their destinations for the amount of money they are charging.



I should mention that I once lived in the suburbs of Houston for six years, so this is also a homecoming of sorts. It should give me a chance to connect with some old friends and see the old places, all of which I will probably forego to look at porn on the Spectravision.



More later as my adventure unfolds. Now, where's that remote?