There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Thursday, August 23, 2007


Prior to starting this entry I took a gander at my last and I have to pronounce it as more than a hair lackluster. Thankfully I was able to make many inane links. What I really should have been getting at is summing up how, lately, electronics hate me. Hate is a strong word I realize, but in this instance the right one. Seriously…

Things began with my wonderful Canon SD800. There I was, standing on a wave wall in Waikiki when, of all things, a wave decides to crash along the wall and give my brother and I a pretty reasonable moisturizing session. I was holding my camera, in its case, and really didn't think anything of it until I decided at some point that day I might take a photo of something. My camera begged to differ. It was shot, powershot. Actually, technically that's not true as my camera would still turn on, the display just decided to be totally wigged out. At first I didn't think this was a big deal, and then I realized that every single possible option you're ever going to select on the camera must be done through the display. Oh yeah…After letting it dry out in the Bay Area climate of Palo Alto, I got a teaser. I turned on the camera successfully and it appeared to have suffered only a few watermarks on the screen. How wrong I was when the screen quickly decided to act like the ad for some horror movie where some girl screams and the screen is reduced to scribble and goes off on an angle minus the girl screaming (replaced by me uttering a drawn-out "fuuuuck") and the off angle thing. Simply put my camera is mostly dead. But there's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.

I've already mentioned my shitty cell-phone that pretends to hold a charge, but that isn't anything too recent. The only recent change is when it would have blank text messages appear in my inbox that, when I attempt to open, then freeze my phone. Ten-to-one Verizon charges me for these text messages.

Then there is my accursed laptop. The boys over at the Genius Bar at the Apple Store were able to tell me that my hard-drive had failed. Shit, if it's going to just fail like that, they should call it a soft-drive. Still, it wasn't all bad news as there is a chance that a company can salvage the data from the drive. This is pretty sweet, minus the $428-1950 price range it will cost me, depending on the complexity of the work. It's a shame I can buy a new laptop for that, since it won't have any of my crappy old crap. Oh well.

Going back to Maria Sharapova, or introducing her for the first time if you didn't click the above link, have you seen the US Open posters? The ones I'm talking about feature the likes of Rafael Nadal, Roger Federer, a Williams sister or two, maybe Justine Henin, Andy Roddick, and that might be it, all in formal attire. They look absolutely ridiculous. It's got this look as if all of the photos were taken separately and then poorly photoshopped together. Unfortunately my quest to find a picture of said poster has failed temporarily. Fuck.

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