Garfield Ridge

This Kinda Sucks.

I was supposed to go paintballing with a bunch of folks from work tomorrow morning, but my buddy Angus, the "cruise director" for the event, decided to call it off because we're getting rain Saturday.

What a freakin' wuss, I say. Only in the Air Force.

I mean, c'mon-- the Army doesn't call off a war because there's rain. Although, given how Vietnam turned out, I'm sure that'd be a very hand rule.

Oh well. I guess I'll have to wait a few more weeks to replicate my outstanding, now-legendary performance at last year's paintballing excursion. I understand that my friends can only take so much humiliation, they have to get ready for the next time I kick their tails.

Then again, after watching this video, I'm not so sure paintballing is a good idea. I mean, honestly, that looks painful, don't you think?

He he he. . . I've got to try that sometime. Perhaps on Angus.

An Excellent Blog From Afghanistan.

Via Dude, Where's The Beach, I found Nothing To See Here, Move Along, a blog written by an Army Special Forces member in lovely & scenic Afghanistan.

I read one post. Then I read another. And then another. And then, I hit the archives.

The guy is good. Definitely pay a visit-- if anything, read his latest post, about that most mundane of bodily functions that we take for granted here in the States.

As for Afghanistan, one of my coworkers/friends is heading out there for a nice summer tour in a couple of weeks. Since he's Air Force, I'm sure he'll be sent to the one corner of Afghanistan with air conditioning and digital cable. Still, I made him promise to bring me back some dirt, so I can have a little slice of Afghani heaven all to myself.

Who Here Wants A Burger?

Donate your body so that people may eat meat without harming animals, via the Cannibal Flesh Donor Program.

Ha ha ha. . . very funny.

How come I see my buddy (and vegetarian) Ranger laughing his way through this site?

As for me, all I can say is, if human flesh tastes like Peruvian rotisserie chicken, sign me up.

Hulkamaniacs, Unite!

Full disclosure: I don't watch wrestling.

Anymore.

But you go back into the day, the olden days of the 1980s, and I was a WWF junkie.

Saturday Night's Main Event just plain rocked. Wrestlemania? Kicked ass.

So, imagine my excitement when I read the following:

Hogan Knows Best. The show casts retired wrestler Hulk Hogan as a traditional suburban dad to two teenagers on a 20,000-square-foot estate in Clearwater, Fla. Programming chief Brian Graden was intrigued by the blond-maned grappler's "tenderly gruff and protective" side. "He goes to elaborate lengths to protect his daughter on her first date," surreptitiously planting a GPS tracking device in her car.

Cool! I'm always in favor of more uses for GPS. Even if they don't involve blowing things up.

Anyways, knowing that the star of Suburban Commando, Thunder in Paradise, and Santa with Muscles has a brand new show on the horizon just makes me. . . want to Hulk out!

Lance Armstrong: Junkie.

Sigh. . . this story again?

AUSTIN, Texas (AP) -- A former personal assistant to Lance Armstrong filed court papers Thursday alleging that he discovered a banned substance in the cycling champion's apartment early last year.

The banned substance?  You guessed it: Yoo-Hoo.

Anderson, who says he had a key to Armstrong's apartment in Girona, Spain, alleges he was cleaning the bathroom in "early 2004" when he found a white box labeled "like any other prescription drug" but that did not have a doctor's prescription attached.

Written on the box was the trademark name "Androstenine, or something very close to this," Anderson said.

"He went to the computer, looked it up on the WADA or USADA Web site(s), and confirmed that what he had found was an androgen, a listed banned substance," Anderson's court brief states, referring to the World Anti-Doping Agency and the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency.

Huh?  He found "androstenine, or something very close to this"?

This is admissible in court, how, exactly?

It's like me saying I was at work the other day, and I found on my boss's desk a dog-eared copy of Black Tail and a jar of Miracle Whip.  Or, maybe I didn't; I can't really be sure.

Hey, even though Lance Armstrong has been drug-tested more times than Tom Sizemore, I guess there's still some room for doubt.  I mean, seriously-- NOBODY can win that many races, right?

Besides, who would you rather believe: Lance Armstrong, or this guy?

Whoa. . . who stole my stash, dude?

I thought so.

Oops.

I bought a shiny new AGP graphics card from a mail-order company, and got the card today.

Opened up the case to discover that, surprise, surprise, I've only got PCI slots.

Crap.

Good thing I saved the receipt. . .

Liveblogging The Academy Awards, 2006.

Welcome to the Garfield Ridge liveblogging of the Oscars, 2006.

I'm hanging out here at my buddy Mike's, using his laptop uncomfortably perched on my lap. My fingers are stained from the 85 or so buffalo wings I just ate, my belly rumbling from the beer I'm drinking. All in all, I'm ready to get this started.

So, for the rest of the night, this is the posting to check for all my comments.

Ready? Let's begin. . .

Continue reading "Liveblogging The Academy Awards, 2006."