To Link or Not To Link

Such vitriol and vituperation! Against my better judgment, I’m exposing my non-village friends to the philippics of The Exec. On his last post he was quite short with me. But then again, that’s his natural state. Since he’s been “through Web 1.0, Web 2.0, and Web 3.0”, I’m sure he’ll eventually figure out how to get the —— out of the email version of his blog. The Exec also does movie reviews. I hear the next one he’s taking in will be “Crouching Blogger, Hidden Chucklehead”.

In political news, Dennis Kucinich and Fred Thompson have given up their ghost of a hope to enter The White House. They’ll have to go home and seek consolation from their young wives. I’ve reached my mature years so maybe its time for me to jump in the race. My wife’s a cutie and looks about 20 years younger than me. I’m sure she can learn to gaze at me adoringly on the hustings.

This past Sunday’s Chron had an article about pec implants for men. I’m pretty happy with my pecs but my abs were the issue. I decided to splurge and give myself ab implants for my 50th birthday.

Dueling Blogs

The Exec is pissin’ on my front lawn. Instead of sticking to his knitting and barking out some orders to his underlings, he’s decided to challenge my blog hegemony. Let’s see if this guy has any stamina. This is post 108. Top that pal. By the way, I got your mot juste right here.

I’m DJ and I approved this message.

El Viejo Regresa

Simon and Garfunkel did a tune called El Condor Pasa. They took a Peruvian folk song, kept the music and changed the lyrics. I plan to do the same thing. I'll also be making a music video. This will all be based on the return of my father from his most recent East Coast pit stop. He flew into SFO last week, after a weather related overnight stay in Phoenix. He and his wife said Arizona was nice. I was going to suggest that maybe he should consider it the next time he feels like moving. One of the selling points that came to mind was the ability to fry eggs on the sidewalk in the summer. After some thought, I kept my thoughts to myself.

The rain wasn't too bad as I picked them up at the airport. We drove to Daly City, where their new apartment is. I waited in the car as they went into the rental office. I figured it would be about 10 minutes. About half an hour along, I decided to step in to see what was going on. They had almost wrapped things up. It took a little longer because my dad drives a hard bargain. He hammered that poor rental agent until he got a 20% reduction in the rent, plus turn down service on weekends. As the line in El Condor Pasa goes, I'd rather be a hammer than a nail.

Afterwards I drove them over to the shopping center to pick up a few necessities for their abode. As his wife went into Safeway, the old man spotted the nearby Home Depot and bolted from my car. By the time I was able to catch up with him, he had a cart full of power tools. I spent about 15 minutes trying to convince him I couldn't fit all that stuff plus the groceries in my trunk. "Who the hell needs groceries" he groused. Eventually he came around. In the video, this will be where the haunting pan flute music begins, as he dejectedly re-shelves the Skil saw and cordless drill.

Fossils About Town

I rounded up the boys for a night out Saturday. We caught Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story down at the Redwood City multiplex. The five of us formed the majority of the audience for the 3:30 showing. The flick was good for several belly laughs. #1’s kid and mine saw it the night before. I’m sure they enjoyed it for the gratuitous nudity but I can’t imagine they caught the majority of the cultural references. That’s one advantage to being a relic. We relished it for the double entendres, nonsensical Dylan parody lyrics, and of course, the gratuitous nudity.

We then indulged in the early bird special at Izzy’s in San Carlos. We started out with a couple drinks. Vodka martinis predominated but I sipped a scotch and water. Martinis disappear too quickly when set in front of me. The Exec went with Ciroc vodka, in a nod to TCG’s wife’s company. As I’ve mentioned before, Ciroc is not to be confused with Cirroc. One is vodka. The other is an unfrozen caveman lawyer. Grey Goose filled the void for the numbers while TCG stuck with beer.

Most of us opted for the Iceberg wedge for the first course. When the salads arrived, The Exec became covetous of #2’s Hearts of Romaine. The waiter insouciantly replaced The Exec’s salad with his new choice. I guess you could say The Exec has a wedge issue.

Numbers 1 and 2, The Exec, and TCG all got steaks. Being the health conscious sort, I went with the salmon. Of course the fries and creamed spinach brought up the calorie and cholesterol counts to nearly the macho levels of the other guys. The well fed quintet then moved to the bar to watch the Patriots finish off their perfect season. To top it off, we were all able to get home before our 9:30 bedtime.

Did I mention that these guys are huggers?