After running down an errant couch on I-25, the wife and I decided the time was nigh to purchase a new automobile. We first called our credit union to get pre-approved for a loan and were pleased to learn they offered their customers a free auto broker service. This was exactly what I wanted to hear as car salesman rank in character somewhere between necrophiliacs and Rent-A-Center employees to me. The wife and I were referred to a genial gentleman named Gordon. He called to inform of us of an auto inventory showcase they were having the next day at Bandimere Speedway and invited us to come down and test drive whatever he had. So we did. He introduced himself and then became scarce and the wife and I spent the rest of the morning speeding new and used whips around the hills near Morrison, Colorado. We fell in love with the 2008 Toyota RAV4, both for the V6 engine and the stellar Consumer Reports ratings (thanks EZ). After discussing the features we were looking for in an automobile with Gordon, he informed us that he would scour the Denver metro area for what we wanted. The next day he called to inform us that he procured a 2008 flint-colored, be-moonroofed Toyota RAV4 and that he was driving it up to the crib to let us take it for a spin. We loved the damn thing (of course) and two days and fifteen minutes of paperwork later, the wife and I had us a new ride.

The Ghost of War made her final voyage yesterday (a youngster in Castle Rock bought her for $500) first to Santiagos for a sack of breakfast burritos and than to the office. She was a steady machine that gave me scant trouble in ten years of hard driving (I work a clutch like a Mexican field hand works a burro). Godspeed, Ghost of War. May all your future rides be down the smoothest of couch-free roads.

Labels: colorado, denver, ez, ghost of war, l-i-v-i-n, technology, the greens, wife

On Saturday morning, I dragged the wife out of bed, bought her a coffee and took her along with me on a magical voyage to Comcast. Our mission? To trade in our old cable box for some hot HD DVR action. It is true that I may not love our unborn children as much as I love this box of wires and wonder. We just got finished watching the first two episodes of American Gladiators and high definition shots of sweaty beatings, homoeroticism, exuberant machismo and water-soaked camel toe never looked so good

Labels: l-i-v-i-n, technology, wife

I am mesmerized by large, flat high definition screens, stereo surround sound, sub woofers that shake the house and anything that has an Apple logo on it. I am usually beyond anal retentive when it comes to keeping my electronics in immaculate condition. I cringe when the kitty gets too close to the multi-channel receiver or when the wife sticks a greasy finger too close to the 24" display. Enter this past Sunday. A backpack carrying our treasured MacBook Pro was carelessly placed on the edge of a table in the Boise Airport terminal while Daddy was off procuring himself a Bloody Mary. An elbow (who's elbow is not important) accidentally knocked the backpack off the table and turned our once beautiful MacBook Pro into a hideous and deformed beast. We still love you, MacBook Pro. Even if you look like Joseph Merrick.

Labels: geekery, l-i-v-i-n, technology

This weekend the wife and I ensured a future of habitual nesting by purchasing some wicker furniture at Pier 1 and a new television and surround sound system. I spent countless hours throwing dressers around, cussing at speaker wire, buying components at Ultimate Electronics and admiring the 42-inch eating disorders of Miss Universe pageant contestants via the magic of high definition technology. Congratulations, Miss Puerto Rico; a year of binging on ice chips and laxatives brought home the crown.

Labels: l-i-v-i-n, technology, wife

1. A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash
2. Police On My Back by The Clash
3. Roses by Outkast
4. Welcome To Planet Motherfucker by White Zombie
5. King Of Rock by Run DMC

Labels: music, technology

Thanks to Jake and the good people over at Joyent, the MB is humming like an old lady in line for the early bird special at Country Buffet. Over the weekend, I spent a good chunk of time drinking, working on freelance activities and setting up Broz Design.

On a related note: It took over an hour to cancel my web hosting service. After attempting to close the account online (due to errors on their end I was not able to), I had to call customer support. I was placed on hold and transferred between departments for almost an hour until I finally reached a competent customer service associate. She apologized for the run around and for Yahoo! not contacting me when their rates dropped. She then refunded my last two payments and made a humorous and deprecating remark regarding her current employer. In short, Yahoo! Web Hosting (except for the capable customer service associate Julie) sucks the sweat off of a dead donkey's balls.

Labels: geekery, technology

The MB will be experiencing down time for few days as I ditch Yahoo! Web Hosting* and make the transition over to Joyent. Until then entertain yourself with this:

• Four men steal a goat, beat it to death with hammers, butcher it and then trade the goat steaks to a drug dealer named Smalls (he uses the meat to feed his fighting pit bulls) for crack.
• German artist Gunther von Hagens wants to build a corpse art factory. The girlfriend and I will be in Chicago the same time his exhibit Bodyworlds is showing. I will have to talk her into going to see it (Read: Vanilla Stoli).
• A woman digs up the remains of her ex-boyfriend to spite his family. She adds insult to injury by drinking the beer and smoking the cigarettes that were buried with him.

*After being a loyal customer for just under five years, Yahoo! Web Hosting failed to inform me that my package was lowered five dollars nearly six months ago and did not bother switching me to the lower rate automatically. After emailing Yahoo! about this oversight, they responded with an auto-generated email thanking me for my inquiry. In short, Yahoo! Web Hosting sucks the sweat off of a dead donkey's balls.

Labels: death, drugs, geekery, rage, technology

It is late and Mark and I have been communicating since 9 o'clock post meridian via instant messenger about this silly blog. After tonight I realize that my coding abilities are as horrific as Michael Jackson's face. Regardless of my technical ignorance this site is now blogging like a motherfucker. Please notice that commenting is now also available. This welcomes you to open your cry hole and interject some worthless opinion that only nine people will eventually read. Props to Mark and Jake for helping this graphic designer stumble into the future. You boys are the gravy on my mashed potatoes.

Labels: /mark, jake, technology

An insane amount of freelance work is keeping me quite busy as of late. So busy in fact, that I went into debt to buy a new computer. A Power Mac G4. Go ahead. I will wait while you clean your shorts. I love it and the freshly connected broadband Internet access (you should see how amazing porn looks on this monitor). I am anticipating a good return on the investment. Does anybody want me to design a website for them?

Nels and Kerry's wedding went off without a hitch. Many spirits were imbibed, there was more dancing than an MC Hammer video and good times were had by all. I performed my best man duties with dignity and ease and avoided a candelabra incident during the ceremony thanks to my cat like reflexes. The minister unknowingly bumped a candelabra that would have sent the quaint chapel up in flames if it had not been caught. I did this without anyone in the congregation noticing a damn thing, moving swift and silently like a ninja on a rooftop.

My hockey league's regular season ended last Sunday. I was second in points on the team with 8 goals, 12 assists and 9 penalty minutes. We ended up in fifth place and are battling the fourth seeded Fighting Trout this Sunday. The Slashing Hyenas are in prime position to take it all the way to the house. My dreams of hoisting the Bladium Cup over my head and drinking in the sweet nectars of victory as I skate around the former airplane hangar in my jock strap to a cheering crowd of seven people will hopefully come to fruition.

Labels: hockey, nels, technology, wedding