Let's Hear it for Math and Science!

Now this is what I call making practical use of all those college courses.

College Student Builds Tank!

The Benefit of Cigarettes

Perhaps the Marlboro Man didn't necessarily enjoy "tasting the adventure". Perhaps he only tolerated "Flavor Country". I'm guessing Mr. Marlboro simply had a severe allergic reaction to bees and wasps.

Yesterday evening the family was playing in the back yard together. While we were outside Lil' Higgins got stung by a bee. You could tell because he started screaming bloody murder out of the blue. We scooped him up and scanned for stingers. We found one on the tip of his finger and it was beginning to swell up and turn bright red. While Mrs. Cyber was in the kitchen getting ice I ran to the first aid kit and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"Do you really think that will help?" she asked me. She had heard the tale from my youth. I was stung by several bees during a summer job. One of my coworkers was a chain smoker and he said, "Just slap some nicotine on it. It'll suck that poison right out!" After I paused for a second to take in the absurdity of that comment he had already whipped out a cigarette, broken it in half, slapped it on my arm and covered it with a band-aid. What followed was the most bizarre feeling. I could literally feel the poison being drawn out of my body. It was as if the nicotine was a super sponge. Within a few minutes it was as if I hadn't been stung at all.

My response to my wife was, "Of course it will work!" I quickly followed the instructions I had been given seventeen years ago. I then sat and waited and hoped that my memory hadn't played tricks on me. I am happy to say that this home remedy works like a charm! Within half an hour Lil' Higgins was right as rain. I'm proud to say we keep a pack of Marlboro regulars in our home!

Good TV... Long Overdue!

Watching television this winter has made me feel like a member of the French foreign legion lost in the Sahara desert, with nothing more than a canteen that has a hole in the bottom: Endlessly agonizing.

But spring is finally here and so is some glorious new programming. Lost is on break but watching the new episodes from a few weeks back was like sweet crack cocaine in my veins. Torchwood gets better and better and I'm glad I've given the show time to mature. My Name is Earl was back on this week since January providing us with some classic white trash moments. I'm even enjoying the tired plots of Smallville. But it is the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica that I was most anticipating (next to Doctor Who coming out later this April).


Having had an infinitely long wait since the season 3 finale I've had plenty of time to digest the big reveal... the final 5 Cylons. Or is it? Perhaps it's the big reveal of only 4 of the final 5 Cylons. Can't we all agree that Starbuck is NOT a Cylon? It's too obvious. And aren't they missing out on some shock value to lump that big reveal in with the other 4 Cylons? To be honest I have a problem with Colonel Tigh, Tyrol, and Anders being Cylons, but I'll live. Really the only big Cylon reveal that I did like was the President's aid. This reveal is chock full of wonderful wrinkles that call into question the survival of the human race. Other than forcing the audience to say "Oh my gosh... not Colonel Tigh..." this choice only bogs down the continuity of the show and doesn't make me fear for the human race any more than the impact of the President's second in command being a Cylon. I guess I just like my heroes to stay heroes. I now fear some serious "moral of the story" moment on the horizon.


If the pervasive revelation that some of our best heroes turn out to be Cylons is some trite way of commenting on the nature of good and evil or an attempt to blur the lines of right and wrong... then I shall be well and truly pissed. Can't we just keep our social and political commentary to ourselves?

Perhaps this is the major flaw with Battlestar Galactica as a franchise. The entire mythology lives in this tight vacuum with one set of heroes and one set of villains and nowhere else to expand. They've done the best they could with what they had. They've brought into the story an impressive array of secondary characters and attempted to make them meaningful to the series. But perhaps the series is beginning to collapse in upon itself from the weight of its own expanding mythology. In an attempt to be innovative they are creating logic and continuity problems that begin to require the same kind of brain calisthenics that occurred when Lucas put out the turd-fest of Episodes 1-3 of Star Wars. The more mythology you overlay on a small group of characters the more problems you have with the rules of storytelling.

For me... Starbuck cannot be a Cylon. If she is it will ruin the series. I will stop watching. So happy Sci-Fi everyone!

Pissed Off - Grab Bag

I was standing over the sink last night washing dishes. You know... doing my little part to help out around the house. After a long hard day of bringing home the bacon I also try to clean that same bacon grease out of the pan that night. Anyway, I'm standing over the sink and I get to the part I hate the most. And when I say hate - I really can't understate how vile this is to me. Revulsion is not too strong a word. Loath is actually pretty spot on! I LOATH WOODEN F-ING SPOONS! The shit that get's caked onto those things is like a bond created at an atomic level! I know why you ladies like the wooden spoons for cooking... they don't scratch the pan; they don't conduct heat, blah - blah - blah! But trying to scrub dried egg, dried soup, or any other food filth off of those bloody things is an exercise in futility. I have to resort to using my own damn finger nails and - if I may peel back the curtain just a bit on my own inner psychosis - touching the food stained remains of dirty dishes is the essence of repulsive to me!


How about those stupid ass travel industry counter attendants? Perhaps it’s because I travel so much for my work but I've run across my fair share of these sons a bitches. In fact I had one a few weeks ago down in SoTex. When I travel I keep a tight schedule so I have very little patience for the out of ordinary delay! Anyway, I'm turning in a rental car. It's the end of a VERY long day and my frazzled wife and kids are waiting outside. I hand over the keys for the lady to provide me a receipt for the rental. She starts to tap on her counter key-board. Clickity, clack, clack, clackity, click, click. She pauses for a moment and then goes at it again for about five freakin’ minutes. More Clickity, clack, clack and Clackity, click, click. She stops and frowns before continuing for another impressive sonata. Mind you, she doesn't say a damn thing to me, but I can tell there’s a problem. So I wait and wonder when she's going to admit it. It goes on, and on, and on... until another five minutes go by and I have to say something.

Me: "Is there a problem?"

Lady: "Well I'm having trouble getting our rental out of the hold status."

Me: "How can it be in a hold status, I just rented it?"

Lady: "Well I upgraded you yesterday and I meant to take it off of hold but I couldn't."

Me: "So what about today made you think it would magically work?"

Lady: "Well I guess I just have to call regional and have them do it."

Me: "Do I really need to be here for this."

Lady: "Well, I assume you need a receipt."

Me: "Fax it to me... goodbye."


I have one final story for you today, and this is the pièce de résistance, the coup de grâce if you will. Dear heavenly Lord I almost throttled the woman in front of me in line at my local WalMart last week. I did my best to pick the line that might clear the fastest. It was late and I wanted to get home. As luck would have it there was a middle aged lady in a snappy blue blazer with about twenty items, so I jumped in line behind her. Little did I know she would stop the check-out girl for EVERY DAMN ITEM to inform she had a coupon. But wait! It gets better. You see she didn't have a stack of coupons. She had a stack of magazines. She had to flip through each one, page by page, find the coupon, extend her arms over the counter, without relinquishing the damn coupon, have the checker zap it, before placing the magazine back in her stack. She did this EVERY time! I almost had a fucking aneurism right then and there. But WAIT! It gets even better! Finally the checker rang up the total and this smartly dressed lady pulls out her check book. At this point I am scrutinizing ever move she makes so the fact that she writes the stinking check like it's calligraphy for a wedding invitation forces me to curse her under my breath. She deftly hands over the pristinely written check to the checker only to have the WalMart data base DECLINE the method of payment!!! Wonderful! Whip out that credit card and be done with it, right? Oh no... She proceeds to write another check. The checker objects but the woman insists this is a different method of payment... after all... it's a different damn check!!!!! It is taking every ounce of restraint I have to not knock this woman's block off. The checker stupidly accepts the 2nd check only for it to be declined as well. No shit, Sherlock Holmes! So what does the woman do? She leaves her groceries at the counter and tells her that she will return later with payment.

Dear sweet heavenly baby Jesus! Save me from a damn stroke!