The high court of New Jersey ruled that the State of New Jersey must start recognizing gay marriages on the 21st of October. It’s about time. NJ is finally catching up with the State of Maryland in terms of equality.


Now, I know that there are some people who truly believe that homosexuality is immoral. If you can make a sensible argument, I am willing to listen, but you will not change my beliefs that everyone should be treated equally. The gays have every right to divorce that the straights do.

However, I will not listen to those who say homosexuality is against god and the bible, and not because I am an atheist. Those who cite the bible as evidence of the immorality of gay relationships and as proof of god’s desires never mention that the bible was written by man. But even that wouldn’t be my main argument. They cite the bible, but when you bring up the fact that the bible also allows slavery, bans tattoos, and does not allow the eating of pork, they usually get angry and start calling you immoral. At least, that is usually my expierence.

So, unless you are going to make bacon illegal, allow the stoning of those who work on the Sabbath, allow slavery, and make tattoos illegal, please shut up.

It’s funny how the most religions people seem to be able to pick and choose what parts of the bible are God’s words, and what parts are just metaphors.

Though, I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind stoning being brought back.


I got to admit, I am a creature of habit. Nearly every Friday night you will find me with some friends at Friday’s. I admit, not very creative, but that is where we usually end up. Sure, sometimes we go to someplace else, but at least 85% of the time, that’s where you will find us.

We are there so often that I can usually just sit down and nod to the waitress. She knows that I want a Guinness, a large Guinness, and usually I’ll order the spinach flatbread appetizer because it’s one of their few vegetarian options that I like. There is something very comforting in a waitress who knows what you order. Granted, the first few times I joined my friends I was carded, and I am the oldest of that group of friends. I am older by a couple of years. But now, they know me, they know my order, less effort has to be made by me. And we all know that I am lazy and the less effort I have to put in the better.

All that being said, last Friday we had a new waiter. And he didn’t know my order. I was only a little disappointed, but I was still disappointed. I don’t think I fear change, I fear effort.

Have to laugh at yourself

I have always said I can laugh at myself. Someone, I don’t remember who, once said that if you don’t laugh at your self, you might be missing the best joke in history. And today was no exception. The names of the people involved are deleted to protect those who don’t want to admit they converse or associate with me.  One friend of mine sent me a groupon link to superhero pajamas that were on sale. Women’s superhero pajamas. Skintight, form fitting, women’s superhero pajamas. And after a comment was made that I wanted batgirl’s abs, and I replied that I wanted batgirl, and her abs, I had to forward the link to another friend. The following is a shortened version of the conversation after I sent the link.

Me: Someone just sent me that link and I don’t know how to take it.
Her: Maybe they think you dress up like a girl.
Me: Well, I do, but I cannot fit into those.
Her: Or may they think that is the only way you can get into a girls pj’s. 😛 I should have said that first.

I couldn’t stop laughing. That was funny, really funny. And I can just picture her actually saying that. I mean, I was laughing so hard I started crying. Not the best behavior in an office, but I found that comment funny.

And, I have to disagree with her; the order of the comments was to perfection. The first one was a solid cheap shot; the second was a much funnier cheap shot. You always want to follow with the funnier comment. If the second comment is less funny, it’s going to be a letdown.

I thought I would share this story… hopefully give you a laugh at my expense.

Wakeup call

Sometime during the day today, I got into a brief conversation with friend about using war drums as a rude wakeup call. And it got me thinking about one of the rudest, and strangest wake up calls I ever got. No, this is not a story about my alarm cats, though their wake up calls can be pretty bad. This is about Space Camp.

Yes, I went to Space Camp. My parents were nice enough to allow me to go during the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years. This is after they dealt with me being in the hospital for most of 7th grade. With the stress that must have put them under, they were probably excited to get me away, sending me to a different state. Anyway, my parents sent me to Space Camp in Florida with a friend.

After my special diet was sorted out (low salt), it was “smooth” sailing. The beds at the camp were bunk beds. I claimed the bottom bunk, and my friend claimed the top. One morning, one very early morning, the “Camp Councilor”, if that is what they were called, decided to wake us up in a very unique way. At the pre-crack of dawn, me, my friend, and all others in our dorm, were woken up to “Good Morning Vietnam!” played at full blast. I don’t mean the start of the movie; I mean we were woken up to Robin Williams shouting that, from that specific scene in the movie.

I got up so fast that I hit my head on the metal support bar across the bottom of the top of the bunk. My friend almost hit his head on a fire sprinkler (I believe he did anyway). My head was killing me. I may or may bot have bent the bar. Most of that morning has since been forgotten. The only positive thing about this was that the councilor happened to be in front of the speaker when it went off. Now that had to be painful.

Now that was one hell of a wake up call. I have some fond memories of that trip, but that wakeup call always stands out.

Pestering People

Ever notice how extremists never have a sense of humor unless it is directed at their opposition? I mean, extreme leftists, tea party members, jihadists, the KKK, none of them have a sense of humor, they never even crack a smile. Well, I assume the KKK isn’t smiling under that hood. I guess they could be like the Joker. But still, no sense of humor.

And among these people who are frustrating me lately, I would have to include the extremist atheists and those super annoying vegetarian extremists.  You eat mean, and you are the worst human being since Hitler or Stalin. I admit I am a vegetarian. It’s a choice I made, and a choice I am sticking with. Yes, my friends tease me, and sometimes it’s just annoying, but usually I can take it as the joke they intend. But those pushy vegetarians, or those pushy vegans, make me want to go back and eat meat again.

And what about those atheists? I am one of you; you don’t need to be so obnoxious. You sound as crazy as that guy who predicted the end of the world three separate times.  I won’t argue that maybe God shouldn’t be on our money, however, do we really want money backed by the promise of our government?

I will also say, those people who are atheists because they are angry with god, are not real atheists. I mean, come on, how can you be angry at something you think is fictional? That would be like me being angry with Darth Vader because he cut Luke’s hand off. Yes, I didn’t like Lord Voldemort , but I didn’t hate him, because he doesn’t really exist!

Ah, venting done.

Columbus Day

Columbus day is the strangest U.S. holiday. Yes, I know that on Labor Day we celebrate the labor force by not working, but look at what we celebrate on Columbus Day.

We celebrate failure. Columbus organized his vacation cruise to discover a more direct route to India. He was obviously so successful in this endeavor that we call Native Americans “Indians.” Chris Failed. He didn’t find a direct route.  He didn’t even find Indiana, let alone India. He saw land and said “Woo Hoo! No need to investigate further, I shall declare this land India.”

We celebrate him “discovering” the land we now call America. But wait; was he the first person from Europe to land here? Well, maybe not. There is plenty of evidence that the Norse, also known as the Vikings, may have explored this land as well. In fact, it is estimated that they Norse were exploring North America as early as the 10th century A.D., just a few years before Mr. Columbus made his discovery.

We celebrate the fact that we took our land from the “Indians.” I mean, of course it’s their fault for being on our land before we were. That should be obvious. We celebrate the infected blankets, the wars, and the slaughter.

Columbus discovered land that was already discovered. So, here’s to failure, Happy Columbus Day.

When did it happen?

I have no idea when it happened, but I have become my father. I saw it happening to some of my friends. I saw them slowly becoming their parents, but I didn’t see it happening to me.

When I was younger, I didn’t take care of my cars, heck, I wasn’t even really interested in my cars. So, when I would go skiing, I wouldn’t wash the car when I got back. When I would go kayaking, I would wash the kayak and the kayak gear when I got back, but I wouldn’t wash the car. Maybe I would drive to a car wash after a couple of days, but I wouldn’t wash it. Think if what the salt from the roads and the water was doing to the paint. I know I should have taken care of my cars better.

That’s not even the worst story. I dented my first care on a pole. Not even the front or back of the car. I dented the side of the car with the pole. On rainy days, I would leave all the windows open and flood the inside of the car. OK, I still sometimes leave the sunroof cracked on days that my iPhone says it is not supposed to rain. I swear I check the weather on my phone. Surprisingly, not too much water seems to get into the MINI that way.

And then it happened. Every time I cam back from kayaking this summer, I actually took the time to wash the car. It wasn’t even only coming back from kayaking. Some weekends, I just washed the car. Why? I never did that. I remember as a kid my dad washing his massive Jeep. I remember him changing his own oil. And guess what, I have been doing that too. I find myself running out, buying the oil and the filters, putting the car on jacks, and changing my cars oil. When did all of this start to happen? When did I start caring about my car as much as my dad did?


At least I still have my mom’s sense of humor.

Great Conversations

Sometimes, when one is with friends at a bar, you have some very unique conversations and discussions. For example, last night we were having our usual conversation about geek stuff. DC vs. Marvel. Supervillains vs. superheros vs. Antiheros.

And sometimes, you have conversations that you know are just weird. Last night it was mentioned that if you drink more than two energy drinks a day you should just move to cocaine. However, with energy drinks you get free stuff. There is a rewards program. Now, if your dealer went to a reward program, maybe there would be more customers. Free 8-ball with every nine purchases. Free backpack after so many buys to lug your supply around.

Then came the comment that I really liked. Dealers should supply a free bag of Dorito’s with every bag of weed. A bag with a bag, so to speak. The dealer could even raise the prices and no one would probably notice. The convenience of not having to run out and get junk food would be huge! He wouldn’t even need a large variety. Cool Ranch, Nacho cheese, and not much else would be needed. It would be one stop shopping.

Like I said, some weird and fun conversations. And yes, we did discuss if The Hulk could pick up Thor when Thor was holding his hammer. And the answer is yes, because the hammer protected by magic, and not that it is too heavy for anyone else to lift it.


Sometimes I wonder what my hobbies say about me. I mean, looking at four of my hobbies, Kayaking, Skiing, Diving, and Warhammer, I can see certain similarities between them.

When I go kayaking, I usually go alone. I paddle us a stream, out onto a river, into the middle of a bay, all with no company. Well, usually with no company. There has been one or two occasions when I had company. Even when I go ocean kayaking, the most dangerous kayaking I do, I usually go alone and early in the morning when there are no lifeguards. Ocean kayaking is the most recent reason that I had massive dental work done. I don’t go river kayaking, not because of the danger, but because I don’t have the training. And once I get the training, I’d probably do that alone too. And that’s just stupid.

I usually go skiing alone as well. Now this is risky, and even I’ll admit that. If I wasn’t with company the last time I went, I have no idea how I would have gotten home. I fell, bad, and probably got a concussion.  I never got it diagnosed, so I can’t be sure. I’ll still go skiing alone, but I know, it’s risky. The view of that fall from the outside had to be funny as hell, I wish I could have seen it.

Diving is a sport that almost forces you to go with a friend. And you should go with a friend. If something goes wrong in 60ft of water, you want someone there to help, or help find the body. If something were to go wrong, say your tank suddenly ran out of air, it’s nice to know you have an emergency line to breathe off of using your buddy’s tank. But, when you are in the water, you are basically alone. As I covered before, when you are under water, no one can talk to you, except through hand signals.

And now, Warhammer. This hobby almost forces me to interact with people. Yes, most of the lobbying can be done alone. The building, painting, priming, and list building can all be done with no one else. No interaction required. But to actually play you need an opponent. I guess you can play a game by yourself, but to actually be competitive, you need another living being.

And that’s what I noticed. Almost all of my hobbies can be done alone, but you are almost forced to interact with the outside world.

And my wine drinking? Alone, that would be alcoholism.

Mason-Dixon Line

I have now been living south of the Mason-Dixon line for almost three years now. I can’t complain, I made some new friends, I like my house, I have a job that pays well, when I’m not furloughed. The pizza is disappointing, but the Indian restaurants I’ve been introduced to more than make up for it. And there is always the Kilt. All this being said, I may have been down here too long.

I am not an uber conservative, gun toting, country music listening redneck. But, I find myself drawn to pick-up trucks now. I mean, nearly everyday I see my friends bright red Toyota Tundra. It’s massive. And I find myself wanting one.

I, however, should never be allowed to drive a truck. I’ve had my MINI for almost 10 years now, and I love the car. And while the MINI is the smallest car I have owned, the largest was a 93 Ford Thunderbird. The MINI is the size of the Thunderbird’s door. I love small cars. I know how they handle. I drive a small sports car like one should drive a MINI. Aggressively.  Shifting in the middle of turns, squealing the tires, and having nothing but fun.

If I drove a truck the way I drive the MINI, people would die. I would most likely die. The truck would be sideways, upside-down, doing cartwheels, be all over the road, and be doing things that a pick-up was never meant to do. And me parking a tuck? With the MINI I can just zip into a spot. And I don’t have to worry about parallel parking. If I need to parallel park, I can just pick the MINI up and carry it into the spot. A truck though? I would cause a lot of damage, possibly even to near by buildings.

Yes, I know, “You could adapt your driving.” I don’t think I could. And if my mom is scared to let me drive now, she would be down right terrified of me behind the wheel of a truck. In fact, she may never even come to Maryland to visit me out of fear of me being on the road.

I really must consider getting that truck.