Neverending Pain

Upper back pain, neck stiffness, groin soreness: three of the bodily problems currently torturing me. I perform certain exercises to combat one and another pops up, just like a cruel game of whack-a-mole.

What he hell is is going on? In the past when I've hit the gym consistenly and vary my training from weights to cardio to yoga I've had much success in avoiding these types of ailments. But now, regardless of how much I work out the hurt continues. And if I neglect to train for a few days the pain is magnified. If i sit in a chair and write code for a few hours I get sore.

There's gotta be a solution to this. Don't tell me age is finally catching up to me.

Never Trust Anyone Who Doesn't Drink

From my favorite message board:

People who don't drink are not to be trusted. Alcohol brings out the basest, most primal version of ourselves. It's like truth serum for the personality. And if a person is too uncomfortable to reveal that part of themselves, if they don't trust themselves with their innermost being, why should you trust them?

I couldn't agree more. However, I guess the exception to the rule would include people who truly loathe the taste of alcholic beverages or people who have some sort of allergic reaction to alcohol. For those individuals I just feel pity.

Paul Wall's Girl

Oh yeah the underlying hook consists of an accelerated Oh Girl from the Chi-Lites. It's somewhat cheesy and cliche (hasn't it been done hundreds of times before?). Forget all that shit. Forget the fact they're playing it too much on that damn radio. Forget the topic of a player trying to convince a woman that he ain't really a player. There's more to it than that.

I'm tryin to tell you 'bout your friends hatin
While they be over there complainin I'm just on my grind paper chasin
You got them insecure thoughts in your mind
But instead of chasin hoes I be overtime on my grind
You steady listenin to the gossip in the beauty shop
But all them jealous single females want what you got
They would do anythang to take yo' place
Cause everytime I come around they be givin me that sex face
You ridin shot gun in the James Bond Benz
With the frog-eyed lens on them 20 inch do rims
So why you worried about your jealous so-called friends
I'm just on my grind tryin to stack me up some ends baby
I used to make you laugh, I used to make you smile
And all the while your jealous friends been in denial
I ain't askin much, lil' momma just keep it real
Either you're down with me or not, baby what's the deal

It's strictly about the lyrics and flow. It's almost like Paul improves as the song progresses like he really realizes what's at stake by the 2nd verse and lets the voice of his soul shine from there on out. "Ridin shotgun in the James Bond Benz..." How's a sensible woman gonna turn my boy down after that line?

Raymond "Shrimp Boy" Chow

I know I complain about what sucks about SF all the time, the overpriced homes, the fanatical political correctness, the high number of fudge packers. Regretfully, my complaints are valid most of the time. But this pic (taken a couple days ago) reminds me that underneath all the gay still exists a mystical underground society known as the Tongs in SF's Chinatown. Shown in the pic is Raymond "Shrimp Boy" Chow, who claims to have controlled all Asian gangs in the Bay Area in the 90's. Even though the Chinese Suge Knight supposedly ratted out his homie it appears that he still gets much love at a Chinatown funeral.

More about the recent mob-style killing. Here.

Funny UNIX commands

[suntzu@gambino ~]$ man: Why did you get a divorce?
man:: Too many arguments.

[suntzu@gambino ~]$ make fire
make: *** No rule to make target `fire'. Stop.
[suntzu@gambino ~]$ why not?
why: No match.

[suntzu@gambio ~]$ !:say, what is saccharine?
Bad substitute.

[suntzu@gambino ~]$ %blow
%blow: No such job.

Nerd Jokes

Tonight after work I've got plans to watch some UCLA vs Gonzaga, drink some drank, and chase some skirts. Once again... It's raining game in Northern California... Until then I'm forced to sit in on some lame conference calls in which technology buzzwords are being thrown around so effortlessly by a bunch of nerds.

To kill time and entertain myself I've found some really 31337 geek jokes:

- A CS student in his first semester may think a kilobyte contains 1000 bytes. In his last semester he will think that a kilometer contains 1024 meters.

- 1 + 1 = 10

- An engineer is walking down the street, and sees another guy from his lab walking along with a new bright red motorcycle. He's impressed, especially since his friend doesn't know how to ride a motorcycle, so he goes up and asks, "Wow, where'd you get that?"

His friend explains, "Well, I walk walking along, and this gorgeous blond drives up on the motorcycle, stops in front of me, strips her clothes off and tells me, 'Take what you want!'"

The engineer nods in understanding. "Good choice. Her clothes probably wouldn't have fit you."

- A Mathematician, a Biologist and a Physicist are sitting in a street cafe watching people going in and coming out of the house on the other side of the street. First they see two people going into the house. Time passes. After a while they notice three persons coming out of the house. The Physicist: "The measurement wasn't accurate.". The Biologist: "They have reproduced". The Mathematician: "If now exactly one person enters the house then it will be empty again."

- Q- Who was the first computer technician?

A- Eve. She had an Apple in one hand and a Wang in the other.

- There are only 10 kinds of people in the world:
Those who know binary
And those who don't

- An engineer told me his favorite engineer joke:

One day, and engineer comes up to the gates of hell. The Devil takes a look at him and says, "Well, we've never had an engineer in hell before, but I guess we can take you in." So the engineer goes in.

After a few days, he comes up to the Devil and says, "I'm sure you've noticed, but it's really hot down here! What do you think of setting up a couple of refrigeration coils, getting an icebox set up so we could have iced drinks down here?" Now, the Devil hears this and says, "Why not? If you can set it up, go for it!"

So the engineer gets some tools together, works for a little bit, and sets up his little icecube maker, and soon the engineer, the Devil, and everyone else is enjoying ice cubes in their drinks, and everyone thinks it's a great improvement.

Couple of days later, the engineer comes back to the Devil and says, "Well, I'm impressed by how big Hell is - there are so many people here! But it takes so long to get from place to place - how about I install some people-movers? I can put in escalaters, elevators, moving ramps, the works!" The Devil takes a sip of his ice marguarita, and says, "Sure, give it a shot."

As the engineer works, the souls in Hell start getting around easier - there are elevators, escalators, all sorts of people-movers! It gets to be quite convenient to get around Hell.

After that project, the engineer comes up to the Devil and says, "I've been thinking about tackling the heat down here - ice drinks are all well and good, but it's still bloody hot! How about it?" The Devil at this point returns, "Anything you need, you got it!"

Two weeks later, the first stage of the cooling system goes on-line, and all the damned souls breath a sigh of relief as the heat wave finally breaks. At this point, God comes down to talk to the Devil, and tells him there's been a mistake: "That engineer you've got doesn't belong in Hell - he was meant for Heaven!"

Now, the Devil wasn't about to let his first engineer go! He returns, "Oh, come on - once he's in those gates, he's Mine! That's the way it works, and you know it!"

God tells him, "Well, you're just gonna have to return him! If you don't, I'll, I'll - I'll sue you, is what I'll do!"

The Devil knows he's won - he leans back, cocky as all hell, and asks, "Now, where you gonna find a Lawyer in Heaven?"

co /dev/pub/pint > /dev/girl
mv /dev/girl /dev/house
mount /dev/girl
touch
unzip
finger
fsck
yes
yes
y es
umount girl
zip
sleep

A Peaceful Evening

My baby mama fell asleep early after putting the baby to sleep. The servers I worked on were suprisingly healthy allowing me to knock off earlier than expected. Tonight, the stars are finally in perfect alignment. I've dimmed the lights, poured myself a glass of Glen Garioch, and queued up some Brubeck, Mehldau, and Monk.

Finally, for the first time in what seems like months. I get some relaxing "me" time.

Too bad I have nothing to write about.

In a rut

Yes, I'm in a bit of a rut. I can't seem to organize the 200 or so things I have going on in my head. Nor do I have the time. It's utterly frustrating. The only time I'm free to work things out in my head is after we put my daughter to sleep until the time I fall asleep. And when you squeeze in sex, exercise, and a little partying in during this free time there is not much time to critically look at the issues at hand. You do your best to maintain efficiency without sacrificing anything. By 2 or 3am I'm beat up. You sleep for a few hours then do it all over again. I'm exhausted at work, bogged down from lack of rest and the hangovers. It's a never ending cycle.

Yeah, I know not a damn thing has changed.

I want to work on a business plan for that idea I've had in my mind for quite some time now. I want to finish reading The fuckin Fountainhead. I want to go out and meet new people to help motivate me. I want to get rid of this fuckin gut. I want to take some classes. I want to look for a new job.

I want my cake and I want to eat it too.

Iverson is just nasty. Poor Daniels gets broked twice.

Douche Bag Discussion

It's late Friday. Work is completed. The little bratilla munchkin is at P's. I should be out running 3 miles while cursing about the disk in my ipod getting replaced. But I'm not. I'm on the Tucker Max Message Board reading about what makes a douchbag.

Here are some of my favorites:

Any guy who wears his cell phone/PDA on his belt. We are not impressed by your Treo, you fag. Put it in your pocket.

Anyone who sips their mixed drink through the fucking stirrer(s).

Anyone who wears a bluetooth earpiece at all times.

Guys who refer to their friends as "my bros" or "my crew."

You habitually send food back at a restaurant. I worked with a guy who did this at EVERY meal just to show the server how developed his palate was, “I think there is a little too much tarragon/rosemary/what-ever-the-fuck in this” Asshole.

People that quote Sartre, Neitzsche, Kierkegaard, in daily conversation.

Guys at the gym who talk more than they work out.

Anyone who orders complicated drinks at a coffee house or bar.

Barbed wire tatoos on the bicep.

Double Polo: Popped, locked, ready to suck cock.

The guys at the gym that spend 5 minutes flexing and checking their muscles in the mirror after EVERY SET.

Any man who wears a wife-beater type shirt, or any shirt with no arms, to a bar.

Under-armour as outer wear outside of the gym or off the field.

People that are so anit-cliche about anything popular they become a cliche about being anti-cliche.

Now I can run 3 miles in peace...