Conspiracy theorists have long been masturbating to DIA for its seemingly clandestine activities. To date, the Freemasons, Illuminati, UFOs, underground military bases and reptilian aliens have all been linked to Denver International Airport. Prophetic messages are claimed to be seen in the art murals of Leo Tanguma that predict the impending apocalypse (conspiracy theorists apparently have never taken an art history course nor are familiar with Mexican muralista painters). Traveling in and out of DIA on countless occasions I have never seen any concentration camps full of reptilian aliens nor any Freemasons holding a virgin sacrifice in Concourse A, but I have seen some long goddamn lines at the Frontier check-in counter.

Labels: colorado, conspiracy, denver

• Jake got more ink over the weekend. Two words: fucking huge. At least something will be able to take the attention away from cock dagger now.
• DMX loves dogs like Mike Vick.
• Congratulations to 2007 Miss Teen USA Hilary Cruz (from Colorado; represent). I trust your response during the question and answer segment was not anything like this.

Labels: jake, link goodness, stupidity, tattoos

This morning while nursing a hangover from last night's poker game, I rolled into Starbucks for some coffee. Upon ordering, a woman entered the store with her two children and attempted to pay and place her order from the drink bar. My only possible explanation for this woman's behavior is that she is an alien, her children are cleverly disguised droids and she just arrived on Earth because it is not possible that anyone in this country has not at least been inside a Starbucks let alone order a beverage from one. The alien's next stop was a McDonalds where she read from the menu for ten minutes and than ordered a Quarter Pounder from a statue of Grimace.

Labels: coffee, hangover

Nick just informed me that The MB has been blacklisted by the unnamed big oil and gas company he is employed by. This merely confirms the fact that the entire oil and gas industry is against me. Fuck you, oil and gas industry. If I could drive a solar or electric powered automobile and not look like a homosexual (or worse, Ed Begley, Jr.) I would. I long for the day when the world runs on inexpensive and efficient alternate fuels and oil executives are getting their heads cut off with scimitars by angry Arab assassins that no longer have a viable export. May your financial coffers dry up with the Permian Basin.

Labels: blacklist, rage, tomfoolery

In case you have not noticed by the recent minimal posting, these past few months have been a blur of work and liquor. I have been pulling some long hours in order to catch our production schedule up to an acceptable level as well as drinking at a frat boy pace during an autumn social (a charity golf tournament this past Saturday had me knocking back Bloody Mary's at seven in the morning). Tonight our office park held an "official" open house rife with free hooch, gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches and pulled pork fajitas. We got the chance to chat up our neighbors who are mostly architects, photographers, creative types, tech junkies and one drug addict painter contracted to complete odd jobs until the end of the year. As I post this I am draining a glass of scotch and researching how to create a typing text effect in Flash. Welcome to my OCPD.

Labels: career, denver, liquor, taxi dev

1. Getting sent three emails for the same subject. The first email contains instructions that always refer to a missing attachment, the second email contains the attachment they forgot to attach in the first email and the third email contains another "final" attachment and instructions to disregard all previous emails.
2. Being invited to an all day WebEx meeting so I can "be observed" while I complete the site design. There is still twelve hours of work left to do.
3. Being told that an terrible stock image of two black people, an exotic looking female and a douchebag boy-band looking white guy was not "diverse enough."
4. Getting berated for development delays even though the client did not return emails or phone calls for three months.
5. Being told that "You are the artist. Surprise me!" immediately after being told, "I don't like surprises."

Labels: career

Jake: Amber marries Amber Doll.
Me: That doll looks a million times better than she does.
Jake: Ha!
Me: I would probably take a run at that doll but be creeped out the entire time while doing so. Then again, that describes sex with my ex-girlfriend so I might be able to handle it.
Jake: I have a feeling I would get in the middle of it and be like, "This is weird." It would be like jerking off in the shower and realizing halfway through that it is not going anywhere. Sure you keep at it for a while, but eventually your arm just wears out.
Me: No way. Once I am in that doll, I am committed. It is a lot like sex with the dead or bestiality; once you crossed the the penetration threshold, all bets are off. You do not just pull out and acknowledge weirdness in the middle of it. You have to finish and than punch the doll in the throat for judging you afterwards.

Labels: im convos, jake