Maybe Honesty Isn't The Best Policy If You're Weird

Are all these folks related? There's 19-year-old Kevin J. Diaz, who after clubbing a passing cyclist in the head with an ice-scraper, said "I just got out of jail. I'm just trying to have fun and whoop some ass."

Next is Saeko Yoda, who happens to have a fine name. But the point is she killed her sister by beating her to death with a rock. When asked why she did it, she said, "I figured I'd be happier if I killed her, so I killed her."

Last but not least, seven-year-old Latarian Milton stole his grandmother's car. His reason? "I wanted to do it because it's fun to do bad things."

Well, at least they were honest. Weird, but honest.

Future Aids

I've found a new place to buy things. What kind of things? Braille things. Talking things. All kinds of neat things. They're cheap. They have neat descriptions of their things. Some of them even have instruction sheets you can read. I just bought a talking pedometer, and you can listen to its voice. It only cost me 7 bucks to buy it! They even have dymo-labeler tape for cheap! Wooo! Plus, this place will braille things you want brailled. Business cards, menus, cards, whatever. How sweet!

The people who wrote up the site are wacky. I don't think I've ever added something to my shopping cart and had a dialog appear that says "righto! We'll add that right away!" ever before.

Something else cool about them is they're open long, long hours. You could probably call them anytime and have a good chance of getting someone.

The final cool thing about this store is if you're in Canada or the U.S, they ship their things via free matter for the blind! I have never ever ever seen that before. How awesome is that?

So, if you're in the market for something blinky, head over to www.FutureAids.com! Maybe they'll have just the thing for you.

In other technological thing-related news, it appears the BookPort and related support isn't as gone as I thought. They actually just released an update for the transfer software, and there's still a faint hope that BookPort II may be made. the support people are going the extra mile to help me solve my problem, as it baffles them too. Oh no. Why do I always find the big problems? But at least I have the BookPort big guns on the case.

Trouble In Paradise?

Ooo! this humdinger conclusion of a wedding night fits into a couple of categories. There's of course the predictable category of humdinger wedding night conclusions, but also the groom is a dentist!

This story has what the hell written all over it. Why did he Karate kick her? Why did she fight off people coming to her aid? Why heave live plants at elevators? And the one that makes me laugh the hardest, why was he arraigned wearing tuxedo pants, a bloody shirt, and one shoe? I mean, I know booze was involved, but by all accounts, she was more boozed up than he was. Why did he end up in rougher shape? I thought it was funny that one of the hapless victims who came to her aid got a tooth knocked out. maybe, as part of some kind of settlement, the groom can do some free dental work for the person. But would they want that?

Mike's Hard Lesson

I'm glad we have services in place to protect kids, when they work. It's too bad they either don't notice abuse going on until it is too late, or snatch kids seemingly unnecessarily.

Somehow, Christopher Ratte didn't realize he had bought his 7-year-old son Leo Mike's Hard Lemonade at a ballgame. He asked for lemonade, and the guy gave him a Mike's Hard. The kid was drinking it, and then a security guard came and told the father that the drink was alcoholic. He was shocked, but the guard snatched it, called police and then things went straight to hell. they took Leo to the hospital to make sure he was ok. I get that. then they made an order to remove him from the home, and social workers came to get him at the hospital. Even social workers seemed annoyed that they were taking the kid, but they could only follow orders. Uh, what happened to taking everything on a case by case basis?

When relatives came to get the poor, traumatized boy, Child Protective Services workers told them they couldn't see him until they had a hotel room. They got one, and when they came back, Leo was taken to an undisclosed foster home. What the hell?

Finally, somebody saw reason, and let the boy go back to his mother. But they didn't completely see reason because they tried to make dear old supposed booze-feeding dad stay in a hotel for a while. Then someone else finished off the ability to see reason and dismissed that bullshit.

What the? It was an odd mistake, but it was just that. It was a mistake. I could think of worse things a parent could be doing to their kid.

Oh, No,

Commas, Turning Up, Everywhere

Dog First-Aid Course

I figured I'd post this here to spread the word any way I can.

Remember back in that Trixie post where a dog came at us out of nowhere? That really scared the hell out of me. I thought about how isolated it is on that little stretch. I wondered what I would do if a dog ever laid its teeth into Trixie. Would I be able to stop the bleeding? What if something else happened? Would I be able to stabilize her until I could get her to a vet?

This led me on a quest for doggy first-aid classes. You wouldn't believe how difficult this is! I called my vet, and they gave me a number for a company in B.C. I called them, and they offered some classes in Toronto, but nothing closer. Since their classes were 2-day classes, that would mean I would have to stay somewhere. I didn't think that would work. I contacted them, and asked about what would be involved in scheduling a private class in Guelph if I could get enough people together, and when they found out I was bllind, they just about flipped their lid. They wanted me to attend one of their already existing classes and bring someone along to be my eyes. Uh, how about no?

I eventually found Corinna Bollmann's site, where she offers the course at Doggie Minder, her doggy daycare in Pickering. I emailed her and started asking her about how easy it was to bus from guelph to Pickering, and explained why I wanted to take the course. To my surprise, she offered to come to Guelph! She said she'd never taught a blind person the doggy first-aid course, but she was willing to try stuff if I was willing to be a guinea pig. In fact, she was hoping to get a group of blinks together to all be guinea pigs for her. She wants a group of four students in the class. I thought sure, if I can get some people together.

It sounds like an interesting course. She even wants to explain what makes a good dogfood, and other doggy health tips that I think it would be great to know. It's always good to learn about different things that aren't always discussed by your vet.

So, if you're interested and can come to Guelph on Saturday, May 10, please let me know. The course runs from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. and the cost is $100. Shoot me an email if you want more details.

I'm really looking forward to this course. I hope I never have to use it, but it's always good to have another tool in my belt.

Skullcrusher Craigslist

That's just slightly goofy. I just finished posting an ad on craigslist, and there's a part where you have to fill in the word verification box. They do have audio, pretty good audio that does phonetic spellings for letters so you know exactly what to type, like "h as in hotel." But you'll never guess what's being used as distraction noise around the voice speaking the letters to type. The beginning to Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coulton! That's just wacky. I emailed him about it. Let's see if he knew about that.

Strange Questions In The Google Searches

28 Apr, Mon, 06:20:44
Google:
is superantispyware a piece of shit?

Interesting. It sounds like you're having a bad run of luck with it. No, it's pretty good. It found about a zillion cookies that Ad-Aware never found. Plus, if it makes a mistake, you can tell the company so. One time, it thought one of the files in a Kitchens Inc game was an evil Golden Palace Casino file, so I toldit nope, you're wrong. Now that Ad-Aware doesn't work with JAWS, I'm all over SuperAntiSpyware. Why did you think it was a piece of shit? You'll probably never answer me, but oh well.

RG: Really Great If It Works

After reading this story about the testing of an RFID Tag-reading robot designed to help blind shoppers around the store, I am a pendulum swinging from "cool idea!" to "oh shit we're in trouble." Come swing with me a while.

Weee! We're up in the "cool idea!" area. That would be sweet to walk into some big store and say "Can I borrow your RG robot?" and walk around the store in search of whatever I want without having to bug store staff, feel like I'm taking up too much of their time, or decide quickly what I would like without price-comparing. It would be cool to read a braille directory of what was in the store and then go find it.

Weee! After a spine-tingling corkscrew turn, we're over in the "oh shit we're in trouble." area. First off, it claims the robot will guide you around people and things. What if it fails? What if you and 22-pound R2D2 just pound some unfortunate customers into mush because it didn't perceive them until you did, and told it to stop?

I think it's awesome that it has a braille directory, but I've seen how often things in braille are updated. Has anyone been at a restaurant, asked for a braille menu, looked at it, ordered something off it, and had the waitress go "You want a what? Oh! That was on our menu years ago!" Now imagine trying to buy stuff at a store that they no longer carry, but is stil in the directory. If it wasn't happening to you, it would be really funny. Imagine you're a blind man looking for a shirt. RG plants you in front of an aisle full of women's panties and tries to claim it's men's shirts. Oh boy.

On top of that, there are a lot of places where other people are going to screw up its ability to work. As of now, it can only take you to the colgate aisle and tell you what part of the shelf holds the thing you want. If someone moves it, or throws something in there that isn't Colgate, it has no idea. Just think of how many times customers and staf rearrange things.

And, what if the battery fails or you just can't seem to get the message through to RG. Will it have a "call a staff" function? People love their independence, but they won't feel so independent marooned in the women's panties aisle trying to talk to this stupid machine who insists it's men's shirts or can only beep "battery low, please recharge."

Next, I wonder about RG's durability. If he's always in the shop, he's not practical.

My biggest fear is that stores will be of the opinion that RG will replace customer service for us. They will forget that some of us might not read braille. Others may not understand the voice. Others may need something complex that RG won't be able to provide. I think it's a great option, as long as store staff see it as such. It is an option. It is something else to try.

I read this post, and I feel like an old fart. I hear another part of me saying "Without people trying new things, you wouldn't be typing on this computer. You wouldn't have a cellphone that talks. Hell, you may not even have a white cane! Stop raining on RG's parade." I'm not trying to say it sucks. I just worry that there is too much potential for human error to get in the way. If Vladimir Kulyukin and his team of researchers can eliminate some of that potential for failure, I'll march into my nearest store that uses one and proudly try out Mr. RG. Now that would be cool. The poor robot would have to contend with a sniffing dog at its heels...which brings me to another question. Are the developers considering guide dog interactions? Could you even manage a dog and it? Both are trying to guide you. even if you heeled the dog, what if RG perceived the dog as an obstacle? Or worse, what if it hurt the dog because it didn't notice it's sniffing nose and trampled it? Isn't there a lot of risk of traumatizing the dog?

All I'm saying is I hope blind folks are having some input into its design so we can think out some of the potential flaws. Until then, I'll stick with a human customer service rep. Humans don't usually spout out error messages or strange codes.

Bad Poetry

I said I would find this old poem. It appears I have. Probably no one will find this funny except Steve and me. Oh well.

I was on that user's list of folks who used the ELba, and one of them got all mushy gushy about his ELba. I believe he was from Germany or something, so his English wasn't so good, which explains the, well, bad English in his poem. He wrote:

Braillex Elba

Come on as you like to be!
Come on get your efficiency!
Cause this Braille display is fine,
It is an Efficiency line.
Move as quickly as a star,
With its easy access bar.

In the conference room, not in the road,
It is easy to take a note.

This device is not a trap!
You can easily browse the web.

And whilst snake mail will some times fail!
Check and read your email in Braille.

Through big calculations you don't look through,
The calculator will work for you.

On the train, not in the station!
Do your spreadsheet calculation.

Some times you forget a date,
And some times you come too late!
That all will be over, now!
The Dayplanner will show you how.

Read in peace, not in the road,
Use PC, combined and navigation mode.

Papenmeier is always fair,
A virtual cursor is also there.

On the Elba things are easy to reach!
Easy configurable Braille and speech.

Operating is an easy dance!
Do it, using Linux commands.

I believe after I read that piece of, well, something or other, smoke came out of my ears. Why I couldn't be content to let him have his glorious view of the thing, I don't know. I mean, he wrote a poem about some computer device. That speaks volumes for how rich and full of human contact his life was. But this was too much for me to bear. At the time, I was not a very happy person, and this whole experience with the ELba wasn't helping. Steve, in an attempt to keep me from hoofing it to either New Jersey or Germany to kick some ass, told me we should try and write our own poem. This seemed to bring things down to a reasonable level. I wrote the following:

I just read the poem from you,
And I don't doubt your words so true
But now please hear this poem of mine,
The words herein are not so fine.

I sent my ELba for repair,
Off to New Jersey, way down there.
The flash card would not activate,
And I thought they could set it straight.

For several weeks it languished there,
In a state of disrepair.
The stories they were told to me,
First the fault of New Jersey, then Germany.

The tall tales they would change each day,
For why it was not sent back up here, eh.
After 6 long weeks, the package came,
Good as new, or so they'd claim.
But discovered I, to my shame,
Alas, the unit still was lame.

I tried to see if my problem was gone,
But alas, it would not power on.
For a while, I tried and tried,
Hoping that it had not died.

I called New Jersey for support,
But all I got were odd retorts.
They told me the reason it had died,
Was because I pushed the card inside.
They said reflashing was the cause
A remark that truly gave me pause.
For if this were true I say,
Wouldn't something be on the braille display?

They told me the charger should have a buzz,
But I don't recall that it does.
They told me I did not need a new case,
They told me this right to my face.
But the current one with Velcro wrong,
I know won't hold out very long.

The repair requests that we had sent,
I wonder where the heck they went.
No fax, no phone, and no email,
Did all three systems truly fail?

Now they've shipped me a power chord,
But I fear I need a circuit board.
For with this new one being used,
To power up, it still refused.

My ELba's not quick as a fox,
As it lays dead inside its box.
That's my story I do say,
How much are Braille Notes Anyway?

Oddly, after that little piece of poetry, everybody hated me on that list. But it got the attention of the company in New Jersey, and much more success than I had been having. So there, there's the silly poem I was referring to. God I feel geeky today.

Jibber Jabber, Chit Chat, and Tech Talk

I don't know what's up with me right now, but I'm full of this unfocused, nervous energy. I'm about as distracted as Trixie after she just saw a pup she likes. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could write a post and get that energy out. So here's some randomness...ooo! A squirrel!

I find the latest commercial slogan for Swiss Chalet really disturbing. IT is "family happens at Swiss Chalet." Uh, what's in the sauce? Is it an aphrodisiac? I don't really want to see tables of folk making family happen. Ug. Maybe I'm just weird, but I don't think that was the image they were going for. Oh, and those fake Swiss Chalet hotline clips are so beyond fake, especially knowing how zombified the Swiss Chalet phone drones are.

What is with us liking the concept of failure piles? I saw a commercial for the Burger King breakfast wrap. It had bacon, eggs, and hash browns, covered in a smoky cheese sauce. A what what what? I was cool with the bacon and eggs, I was starting to raise my eyebrows at the hash browns, but smoky cheese sauce? Why not just melt some cheese on it? What's with the sauce? What's with the need to turn everything to mush? Has anyone tried one ? Is it good? It has the famous/chicken bowl effect. I almost want to try it, then recoil at the thought of smoky cheese sauce.

So if you live in Toronto right now, you probably want to track down and strangle every Toronto Transit Commission worker you can find. They said they came to an agreement, and now, without warning, wammo! They went on strike! The story on the news was the usual cross-section of people cursing the drivers, not caring, saying they'd walk to work, yada yada yada. Then a TTC driver came on the TV, and showed himself to be douchebag of the hour. He said, "I sympathize with the riders, but I have to do what's right for me. It's my livelyhood. I mean, they aren't paying my mortgage."

Uh, er, yeah they kind of are. Let me sum it up for ya real quick. No folk buying bus tickets or subway tokens = no fucking bus service = no fucking job for you. Hey, go ahead and strike if you feel you have to, but to say that statement onTV makes everybody hate you more. And you're probably one of the assholes who still don't speak the stops out loud even though you kind of have to by law. What a douche. If you were one of the union reps, you didn't help win public sympathy, that's for sure.

I have to write this down, because whenever I think about it, I feel bad for my friend. the other day, I ran into a friend. She said hello to me, and said a quick hi to Trixie. She didn't even change her voice or make kissy noises or try to pet her. She just said hi. Trixie knows who she is, but didn't flip out or anything. We talked for a bit, and thenI went on my way. Then I found out later that after I left, a woman charged up to my friend and started screaming at her that she's not supposed to talk to my dog etc. I appreciate the concern, but I really wish others would stop speaking for me. I had one woman ream someone out for talking to me because she was keeping me from counting steps. Uh, I don't count steps. If I seem to be in no distress, then you shouldn't be either. If you're worried, ask *me* if I need help.

Here's a note to the folks who make the Book Port. I love your machine and I'm sad that I think it's essentially reached the end of its evolution. But when you make a manual for it, you cannot assume that it will work perfectly. Please, please, please, for the love of Pete, include a troubleshooting section. I've run into a problem, your manual doesn't help, and google has no answers. But every problem I've run into, I've had to go to google, because your manual does not have anywhere to go to find the solutions to error messages. If your machine makes error messages, explain them, please!

This is the problem I'm having right now, in case anyone knows or cares. I'm trying to copy a Daisy book. The BookPort sees the ncc.html file that has all the info about where all the chapters are, etc. It says, "How much of the book do you want to copy?" When I select what I want to copy, it yells the following:
"ffmp3. Unable to open c:\docume~1\my user name\locals~1\temp\BTDTBConv.mp3. Ok."
Well thank ya very much. Would you like to tell me what to do about it? No? Damn you! I've tried copying smaller and smaller chunks of the book, to no avail. So I've now joined another list where hopefully I will find my answer, and when I do, I'll post it here, so if someone else has the same problem, google will know the answer!

What is it with me and buying technology that eventually bites me in the ass? That has become a trend for me in recent years. Years ago, I heard about something called a Braille note. It was basically a super PDA for blinks. My first response was "I want one I want one I want one!" It could do email, internet, you could write documents in something more sophisticated than txt, it had a braille display, which meant possibly all my French and stats I was taking at the time wouldn't have to be in bulky braille volumes, and if you wanted, you could get a GPS receiver and it could do GPS! Then I saw the price tag, 6 grand, and realized that this would take more work.

I started to do some research, and stumbled into meeting a guy who sells this stuff. I had heard good things about him, and he seemed knowledgeable and patient. He was also blind himself, so it seemed he wasn't talking out his ass. Or so I thought.

He told me I shouldn't go with a Braille note. I should go with the Braillex ELba. It was made by Papenmeier, a company who I'd heard good things about. It was slightly cheaper than the Braille Note, more updates were supposed to be free, it was to be more durable, and its software applications were things that regular sighted linux geeks would use, like Pine, Lynx, Pico, all that jazz. So, I thought I could get broader support. It had more things built into its hardware that the BN didn't have, like an RJ45 port, stuff like that. I even read the manual! It looked like a pretty good option.

Since mom and dad were helping me get this thing, I figured I'd better make double triple quadruple sure I was making the right choice. I joined a list of users of the ELba, and asked a few questions. Everyone was googoo gaga about how much they loved their machine, and how they were using it as their primary machine when their windows machine was out of commission. One guy even wrote a, um, poem, about his, which I may post later because I wrote my own disparaging poem afterward. I just couldn't resist.

Anyway, I bought the thing. That's the point of this rambling mess. As soon as I bought it, I started noticing problems. The thing didn't follow the manual's description of what it should do. I couldn't activate the flash card, and that's when the vendor who sold it to me got snippy and impatient. He told me all of this must have been user error. Eventually, I convinced him that the slot in fact was broken. I sent it away to be fixed, and it came back even more broken, i.e. refused to power on, than it was whenit left. I sent it away again, and convinced mom and dad that we needed to go physically pick it up when it was repaired. Note: It was being repaired in New Jersey, because the Canadian vendor from whom I bought it conveniently didn't have his license to fix the product he was selling. Mom and dad, let me say publicly that I love ya.

It came home ok, but we still had problems. Nothing followed what the manual said it should do. It couldn't keep time worth a shit, which is important when you're using its alarm and day planner functions. The sound card would randomly crackle and make horrible staticky noises. So much for being durable there, dude. Then, after receiving one firmware update, the whole product was discontinued! Should one expect that the final version of a product would be 1.3 after the company expects each customer to lay out 6 grand for this thing?

So now, I own a braille display that I rarely use because it's big and clunky, the functions don't do what they say they do, I still have an email in its outbox that I composed to Steve at least five years ago that I never managed to send, and my parents andI paid a heap of cash for it. And, I had done my research.

That was my biggest blunder in the technology arena, but oh I have more. I bought a daisy-player/recorder called a Plextalk that I had actually laid eyes on and thought was cool. I soon learned that if there is even the slightest imperfection on a CD or a card, it won't read it! It's voice quality sucked for recording, and the manual sounded like it had been backtranslated from German to English using babelfish. Ug!

Next up was this horrible excuse for a computer. This one really hurt. I bought it from a guy who I had had years of experience with. He had repaired my Braile 'n Speaks for years. Hell, he took one whose circuits had been fried by electrical current when the control circuit that only allowed in enough voltage to charge the battery bit the big one and turned it from being a dead piece of metal that smelled like smoke and fire and had lumps at the site of the battery to a completely working unit with all my data intact and no lumps! I thought he must be pretty good at what he does. He even refused to sell my dad a piece of software that ddad wanted to buy. It was an old screen-reader called Slimware Windowbridge. Anybody heard of that now? No? Didn't think so. He told dad he wouldn't sell it to him because it sucked. Dad argued, and he still didn't budge. He was right. It did suck. I got to use it when I was a camper at SCORE 95, a computer camp for blind and visually impaired teens at CNIB. It was so bad that when we tried to show the founder how well we could use it, it locked up two computers.

So when it was time to get a new computer when my old beast had been with me for 5 years, I thought "Great! This is the perfect vendor. He's honest, and he knows his stuff." Well, not when it came to computers. I swear this machine was cobbled together using the most substandard of parts. I blew a couple of regulators, the main fan whined like a jet engine and had to be replaced, I had to replace the onboard sound chip with a sound card, the scanner ceased to function almost immediately and it still doesn't work right, when I went to buy Ram for this lagging beast and I showed the specs to some good techs I know, they said "What? It runs at what speed? Hmmm. I don't know what ram it would support." They eventually found an old stick that might work and gave it to me for free. That says two things: These techs are sweet, and good lord this thing uses weird Ram. As of now, the computer is still sluggish, and I hear screeching of ball-bearings inside which disturbs me, but no one else can hear it. Thankfully, this machine only has to stagger along for another year before I can get a new computer, and I'll be going with Star Computer Services. If they screw me over, I'll have to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Now, my cell phone has been good to me. But, I'm slo on the draw, because that whole generation of phones is becoming obsolete. I've only had the damn thing for 10 months, and Talks, the screen-reader it uses, is no longer producing updates that will work on it. I'm thinking about getting a Nokia N82 because it's a newer phone and it has some kickass features, but no cell phone provider sells it directly, so I'd have to buy it elsewhere, and I wonder if I should. Will I be heading for more trouble? Should I just be glad for what I have and not try and buy anymore gear? It's a good thing I didn't go out and get Wayfinder Access for this phone.

So this brings me back to the BookPort and its problems. I pray they're minor, but I'm worried, and now I hear the listserve I joined is no longer populated with anyone to help. I just joined a listserve of maybe 3 people, one of whom is out of the office, as I got her out of office autoresponder replying to my message. Dandy.

Well, that random post became less random and more whiny real fast, didn't it? I guess I should get my ass off this chair, take Trixie out for a pee, and then come back and find those silly poems. Ah, nostalgic emails that I've saved for way too long. I guess they did serve a purpose after all. Have a good Sunday. Hope it doesn't rain.

You Want A Crusade? I'll Give You A Crusade!

Ok, to all those who want to shut down YouTube, let me give you something that really should be shut down. Ready? How about websites set up instructing people on how to kill themselves. Now there's a kind of site that should be taken down. Go get 'em!

Ah Just Cut It In Half, Ya Greedy Pricks

This next story belongs in the roll up the rim to whine files. I have only one question for these two families. What moment is left for your sons to enjoy after you've sued each other's asses off over a David Beckham jersey? Really, what lesson is to be learned? And who wants the jersey more? And are the grown-ups children too? Hmm. that turned into a few questions. Oh well.

And This Doesn't Disturb You?

Ya know, the appropriate response when your eight-year-old grandson slugs his teacher is not "He loves to hit." You won't love the fact that he's facing felony battery charges. And you won't love it if he ever loves to hit you, granny. Eight-year-olds only get bigger, and when he's already 70 pounds, things aren't lookin' good.

That's Never Good

25 Apr, Fri, 13:31:34
Google:
what's wrong with your dog if he's shaking and he's jumping and

and what? Or did he cease to shake and jump? Or did he jump on your enter key, causing the search term to go through? I hope that you've found the cause of his shaking and jumping and....and it wasn't a sign of something dire.

Come Here Dumb Human. Quiet! Good Quiet.

Whenever I think about this, it makes me mad, not in the oh the world sucks kind of way, but in the holy shit some people can be irritating as hell kind of way. Hopefully when I write it down, it will make sense why it makes me mad.

This happened yesterday at around noon. I took Trixie out for her usual business routine. She peed, and just as she was finishing peeing, a lady came out to have a smoke. After Trixie was done peeing, she started sniffing around. This is normal, because if she had to poop, the sniffing helps get things in motion. From across the parking lot, the lady yelled, "Oh she's just nosing around. She's not doing anything. Oh come on Trixie, let's go."

Pardon? First of all, if you want to have a normal conversation with your average human being, you don't get out a megaphone. You come closer, so you can talk at a reasonable level. Second of all, when did she think it was her place to call and command my dog? Would it be normal to even do that with a pet dog from half way across a parking lot? No. If the dog took an interest in coming to you, you'd turn their owner into a goddamn projectile. I will decide when it's time for my dog to go, thank you very much.

then, of course when Trixie didn't move, she was shocked and appalled! "Don't you want to come inside?" she bellowed. I told her I would come in a second. Just then, she looked and noticed I was putting on the harness. "oh yeah, that," she said. Yeah, that. She didn't have that on before. That comes off when she takes a pee. That goes back on before I start moving. The reason she has that is because she is a working fucking dog.

Arg. I know this is just one lady, and she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but good lordy lou. It makes me think of the countless times people try to call my dog and make kissy noises at her and expect she'll just listen to them. It's especially bad when I'm trying to get her to follow them. People stop talking to me and start talking to the dog as if I'm just along for the ride. NO. Talk to me. Dont' call my dog, don't command her. Talk to *me*! People are usually pretty good about stopping that when I say I don't want her to start responding to random people who call out to her. that would be disastrous! Everywhere I go, I hear kids going "puppy puppy puppy!" If she started responding to that, I'd be doomed!

So, if you ever get the urge to yell "come here!" at a guide dog, just don't, ok? Offer the person help if you want, talk to the person. But don't call the dog. Please please pretty please. Is that too much to ask?

A New Target For Shoplifters

What's with this trend? We had HomeDepot employees not allowed to chase down shoplifters. Now, Target has a policy that says security guards can't stop shoplifters unless they're one of the ones designated to do so, and if you're not, even if you're trying to stop a teen from stealing booze, you will be fired, like Dean Babcock did.

The weirdest part was he didn't even wrestle her or chase her or anything. He just walked up to her, asked her if she had some booze, she said she did, he told her it was a crime, took down her information and called her dad. He even let her go. But he got the job done because now her dad knew about it, and was thankful that it was brought to his attention. But because Babcock wasn't one of the catch the shoplifters squad, none of whom were on duty by the way, he was chewed out and fired.

Ok then. He's a security guard. When did stopping shoplifting get removed from the job description of security guards? And what would they do if another patron caught a shoplifter and chased him down? Would they ban the guy who chased the shoplifter from shopping at the store? Most importantly, when did following some code become more important than doing the right thing?

Is The Dictionary Sexually Explicit Because It Contains The Word Sex?

If you're thinking about opening a bookstore, or anything that sells anything bookish in Indiana, you'd better take a long, hard look at your content, because as of July, a new law states that if you're going to sell anything that even remotely is in the ballpark of sexually explicit, you have to pay a fee and be registered among all the porn shops and sex toy stores. What a mess. The law is so broad that a book on the subject of sex education, or a novel that mentions sex is deemed explicit and potentialy harmful to minors. What makes it worse is the reason the law was supported so overwhelmingly was senators were too afraid to vote against something that's supposed to protect kids. What about standing up and stopping a stupid law from passing because it's stupid? No, that's too hard.

So now, a law is about to be on the books that is absolutely useless in fighting against what it intends to fight, but a whole bunch of bookstores are going to get hurt. Way to go, guys.

To Read Post, Go To Blog

It's funny how a few words can speak volumes about the state of our world and how much stupidity is in it. Just recently, we finally got Bell to fix some pretty expensive errors they'd made in our bill. In an attempt to make up for the errors, they offered us a whole pile of services for cheap. This sounded like a pretty good idea, so we took them up on it.

This morning, we got a call from Emily, their cute little automated phone assistant with the super perky voice. You know how I feel about Emily, but this time, she was pretty cool. She, er, it, told me that all my services were enabled, and if I wanted help on any of them, I just had to press the right button and it would be there. I decided to learn a thing or two about our new bells and whistles, and hit the button for call forwarding. The voice told me that if I wanted to forward calls to a number, I should lift the receiver, listen for a dial-tone and then dial *72, listen for some beeps and dial the number where I wanted my calls to go. Then I noticed that each time there were instructions on how to activate, deactivate or change a service, Emily helpfully informed me that I should lift the receiver, listen for a dial-tone and dial whatever I should dial.

I thought it was weird that they felt the need to tell us that before we could activate something, we should actually pick up the phone. Then I thought that wasn't the part that was truly weird, because some phones are all fancy and have buttons on them to control services. The part that seemed completely stupid was the part where they had to tell us that we should listen for a dial-tone before mashing buttons. Uh, yeah. That would be good. I wonder how many calls they get that go like this:

Customer: I can't change the number of rings my phone does before taking a call to that answering machine thing I have.
Rep: You have to pick up the phone and dial *94 and then specify the number of rings.
Customer: Yeah I know, but when I do that, nothing happens.
Rep: Did you hear a dial-tone?
Customer: There has to be a dial-tone?
Rep: Yes.
Customer: I didn't pay attention.

Ug. Wow. But then again, I've seen a friend's parents pick up the phone when my friend is on it and just start pounding away on the buttons trying to call somewhere. Then he has to yell at them before they realize that their line isn't dead, and someone's actually talking on it. Maybe that's who this is for. But I thought his parents were in the minority! I guess not.

Did We Win?

Three synchronized swimmers made news this week by taking the synchronized part a little too far. The swimmers, who were training themselves to hold their breath for long periods of time,
passed out and went under simultaneously.

Unfortunately they weren't triplets [which would have made this even more amusing] but still, I guess it's true what they say, practice makes perfect.

She's Pretty Mean With A Screwdriver

Hmmm. You would think it would take less than an hour and a half for the guy breaking into the house of a 95-year-old woman who was confined to a wheelchairto realize that she could reach out and stab him through that window, so maybe he should choose another way in. But he didn't, and after receiving several jabs with a screwdriver, he passed out, and she called 911. She did a pretty good job on him, one of his knuckles is almost gone! He's not going to want to accurately describe how he got his wounds to anyone. And her family says she's doing just fine. Perfect!

Nice Ass, Can I Look At It?

There's been an update to the
strange story of Brian Persaud,
the New York construction worker who went to the hospital after a knock on the head and wound up in court after a forced rectal exam. The verdict has come in, and
the hospital has been cleared of any wrongdoing.

There are still a few things I don't understand here though.

1. If the injury he was admitted for was a cut over the eye, why did they want to look at his ass so badly?

2. If they were concerned about spinal injuries as suggested both in the comments on the original post and the updated news article linked above, why would they sedate him and lose out on any useful feedback he could have provided, not to mention handcuff him, an act that could cause further damage?

3. If he's that much of a handful, isn't it logical to assume that maybe the spine is ok? I understand there could be concerns about shock, but somebody in shock isn't normally described as "alert times 3," and somebody with potential spinal problems shouldn't be able to fight off more than one person...should he?

Somebody who knows more than I do about things like this can feel free to set me straight if I'm wrong, but something in this case, I'm not sure what exactly, just isn't adding up.

That'll Teach Him To Try To Rob The Blind

The story of a legally blind guy beating the crap out of an intruder and holding him at knifepoint for the cops would have been a great one, if not marred by a few quotes.

Let's start with one from a police officer, who Steve and I have been calling Lieutenant Ignoramus. It reads: "It's pretty remarkable for anyone that's blind to be able to defend themselves, let alone make an apprehension. To be able to grab this guy and hold him down until police got there is pretty remarkable."

The only thing difficult about defending yourself if you're blind is to catch the moving target. Once you've got him, if you have even the remotest knowledge of anatomy, I think you can find his groin. If you know a few holds and you're bigger and stronger than him, then vision makes no goddamn difference. And if you can do like Allan Kieta, the blind guy did, and grab a big knife, that'll make an attacker get really still really fast.

The next one to contribute to the rapid decline of this story was Allan Kieta himself. He said that he couldn't see to dial 911, and he only had one hand, and it took him 20 tries to do it. I could see having a shaky hand having more to do with the inability to dial than his not being able to see the buttons. Here's a tip to the world. You do not need to see to dial a phone, especially your own damn phone. The buttons are always set up the same. From top left to bottom right, they go 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, *, 0, #, in that order, in a cute little square formation, and there is often times a dot on the 5. If you can't dial by touch by now, especially when you can't see very well, I would be shocked.

The final quote that made me just about keal was this one: "When my wife was cleaning the blood off, she said 'I think it's all his,'" Kieta said. Dude, either you're really making us look helpless, or the reporter is going out of his way to do it. Clean the blood off yourself!

Arg. Like I said, this would have been a fine story. It's pretty cool that he dragged the dude into the laundry room, beat the snot out of him and then dragged him to the kitchen and called the cops. If we'd just left out all the parts where he was made to look like a helpless cripple, that would have been great.

The Dipshits Got Off!

What the hell? Remember the dipshits who wheeled the corpse of their room-mate down the street to a cheque-cashing place so they could get his cheque? Well, charges were dropped! Apparently these guys were able to convince a judge that Cintron was alive before they left the house! Riiight! Then why did they wheel him in a fucking office chair? he had Parkinson's. If he was that debilitated, I'm sure he had a proper wheelchair. And if he croked mid-walk, wouldn't you, uh, stop and call 911? Or are these two numbskulls too stupid to realize when somebody's heart has stopped going lub dub? And, they say they all had cheque-cashing authority on each other's cheques. Then why didn't the clerk think so? Why couldn't they explain that, instead of wheeling in Floppy the corpse? If they thought he was alive, why didn't they bring him in anyway? And what's with the quote at the end where one of the guys who was accused said he was absolutely amazed? What was he amazed at? Was he amazed he got off? Was he amazed that he was charged? What the fuck?

This sucks. I'm sure they would have been convicted if the autopsy could prove the time of death in a more exact manner. I hope to christ that the judge didn't truly believe this pile of crap. I certainly don't.

Oh Dannie Boy, The Pipes, The Pipes, Are Deafening

This story cracks me up for three reasons. the first is because as I read it, I can almost hear JAWS sprouting a Scottish accent because of the words used. the second is the image of how much worse off the rest of the world's hearing would be if pipe bands everywhere tuned up with ear plugs and couldn't truly hear what they were doing. Oh god, I don't know what is worse: deafening pipe bands which are in tune, or the horrid screeches that would come out of deafening pipe bands that weren't in tune. Finally, the fact that the bagpipe is louder than a pneumatic drill makes me chuckle for some reason.

Refresh my memory. Was the bagpipe among the five shittiest musical instruments? Yes! It was! Well, I guess it belongs there.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Creepy Sex Offender Guy

About a week or so ago I
kinda sorta mentioned Freddie Johnson,
who has been arrested more than 50 times for groping women on subway trains.

Well, as it turns out he's got a twin brother named Teddy who, no shit,
is famous for the exact same reason
and is currently doing an 8 year jail stretch for it.

I'm not sure what else to add at this point, so I'll end with this, one of the funniest yet most disturbing things I've read in quite some time.

In a disturbing jailhouse interview on Sunday, Freddie, whose fondling spree has spanned a quarter-century, told the Daily News that pretty women should expect to get groped on trains.

"When there's this many attractive women in the city and on the subways, don't they know [this will happen]?" he asked.

Uh...yeah...

Sounds Like He's Got It Right

President Bush talks about what he learned from his time with the Pope.

CP Arf

Oh boy. I have a small, funny story to tell about Trixie because I just like telling Trixie stories.

Last week, I went to get my Level C first-aid certification. I figured I should have it, something else to put on my resume. Plus, I just thought it would be good to do, since I hadn't done anything to do with CPR since 1998, and things have changed since then. So off I went, I got registered, and all that.

But as the class drew nearer, I got worried. I realized that first-aid training involves a lot of practice of various things that you would need to do in an emergency. Those things probably look pretty scary to a dog. She wouldn't know I was practicing. She'd think it was the real thing. I wondered what to do. I decided to play it by ear. I brought a small tie-down, and a bed so I could fasten her to something heavy if I had to, and the class instructor said there was always the option of taking her downstairs to the receptionist and having her watch her. I wasn't really happy with that option, because I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on what I was learning because I'd constantly be wondering if Trixie was being any trouble. The two evenings I've had to leave her with my downstairs neighbour when Steve and I were going to loud concerts, it took me a long long time to relax and Steve had to tell me to refrain from phoning to check all the time. Once, he even threatened to hang onto my phone to prevent me from calling! I was good though, I resisted.

Anyway, off I went to class, thinking I had all the tools I needed. Hmmm. Notice the word thinking. I got there, and quickly realized there was nothing heavy enough in the room to tie her to. There was the table, but I thought if she got scared enough, she might be able to pull it, endangering everyone at it. It was too much risk. I thought, gulp, well, I'm just going to have to pray that she stays in a down-stay. Anybody see where this is going?

At first, everything was cool. We were all sitting around the table, and she was being the good as gold guide dog she can be. Laying there, snoring, it was perfect.

Then I got up to be the guinea pig used to demonstrate how to put someone in the recovery position. I told her to stay, and she did. She stayed as I walked to the front of the room, she stayed as the teacher told me to lie down, she stayed until I was lying down...and the person rolled me onto my side, and what is that? Feet coming towards me and a cold nose at my ear? So much for stay! The whole class laughed, and I was mortified.

Eventually, she realized that I was a willing participant in these bizarre exercises and did stay. That is, she stayed until I had to drag someone else on a blanket! This was too much for her. Over she came, and that was not all! She licked my poor unsuspecting victem, er, injured person that I was trying to drag, right on the back of the head! Again, I was mortified, even if the girl on the blanket was giggling. I told Trixie to stop, and asked the lickee if she likes dogs. Thank the sweet lord the answer was yes.

Trixie soon learned that the people I dragged and rolled and manipulated were not in fact toys for her, and stay still meant goddamn stay! This worked...until it was CPR time.

For a while, she showed amazing restraint. She stayed, until everyone was on the floor, doing compressions on mannequins. Then she couldn't take it, and over she came. I told her "down", and continued compressions. She was good...until I breathed into the mannequin's mouth. Then she tried to give Resuscitation Annie a bath too! Who knew my way of counting compressions would be "1, 2, 3, 4, stop! 6, 7, 8, no! 10, ...?"

Finally, on the second day, I could go up to the front of the room, have my arms and legs splinted and bandaged, and she wouldn't move a muscle. But what a first day. I think the poor thing was unbelievably confused. She couldn't have been too traumatized, because she happily led me back into the same room the next day as if it was the best place ever. All I can say is as happy as I am to have completed the course, hopefully I never have to do CPR on someone for real, not only because that would be scary as hell, but because a dog head might get in the way. Trixie, when I say down stay, I mean it!

Um, Oops

Wow! Without even meaning to, I just broke a kid's heart! Hopefully I managed to put it back together.

I took Trixie out for her usual business routine. As we come out the door, we usually go up to the left into the bushes. If we cut to the left too soon, we hit a metal grate. I don't care about the grate, but Trixie absolutely hates hitting it. I think it's because her nails fit down between the slits. I sometimes call it the grate, sometimes the grill.

As we were coming back after she did what she had to do, Trixie headed the way we usually do. The only problem was all the kids were playing really close to where we would come back onto the driveway. For some reason, Trixie didn't think of this as a problem until it was almost too late. Suddenly she was faced with a decision. Do I cross the grill? Maybe she'll let me plough through these mini shrub things. Ah crap no. Hmmm. I can't hit the kids. But the bushes are there if we go too far left and those are a lot of kids. Hmmmm hmmm hmmm! What to do what to do. I said to her, "Ah come on, I know you hate that grill, but just go!" Just then, the kids saw me and made way, all but one little kid, and I think it was a girl, because the voice said, "She hates what girl?" It was such a dejected voice, so heartbroken. I think she thought my dog hated her.

As quick as I could, I said, "No no, the metal thing. This metal thing. I sometimes call it a grill." The voice never said another word. I hope she understood. That was so sad!

As an aside, it seems the kids and I have found a way to live in harmony. They don't try and jump in front of her and give her treats, and if I think they're anywhere near a relieving spot that I use, I just find another one. Plus she's not such a novelty anymore. She's just Trixie the dog who's always around. Ah what a difference a little trial and error and experience makes.

Anyone For A Game Of Chess?

I thought I'd put this up here for anyone who's interested. I may have to check it out since I cannot wrap my head around Chess, which is a shame since I love the feel of all the outside pieces, whatever they're called, and I'd like to learn how to play. I've tried chess on a real board and Winboard, a computer version of chess. But all I accomplish is giving myself an enormous headache. Oh, and I lose. So maybe this will help me, and anyone else who is interested.

FOR IMMEDIATE DISTRIBUTION

Anyone For A Game of Chess?

The Accessible News Wire April 13, 2008, Indianapolis, Indiana USA

Chess has been defined many ways but most will agree that it is not merely an idle amusement but essentially in its essence it is a game, in its form an art, and in its execution a science. Several very valuable qualities of
the mind, useful in the course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions.

The current form of the game emerged in Southern Europe during the second half of the 15th century after evolving from similar, much older games of Indian and Persian Origin dating back somewhere before 600 A. D.

Today, while chess is one of the world's most popular games, played by millions of people worldwide in clubs, online, by correspondence, in tournaments and informally, only a limited number believe that it can be played and enjoyed by individuals who are blind.

Anna Dresser and Alan Dicey will demonstrate to the Tek Talk audience that whether you are new to chess or a seasoned player, blindness does not have to stop you from playing, and playing well. It really is a game that can be played effectively and enjoyed by those who are totally blind.

IN their presentation, they will describe adaptive chess sets, discuss playing as a blind person, tell you where to get free lessons, and suggest lots of ways to meet other players - sighted and blind, from the U.S. and elsewhere - and develop your skills via e-mail, voice chat, and computer chess programs.

So listen in, then grab a board and join the fun!

Contacts:  Woody Anna Dresner, National Braille Press. 
Email: adresner@nbp.org
Alan Dicey, President, U.S. Braille Chess Association. 
Email: adicey@bellsouth.net

Date: Monday, April 21, 2008
Time: 5:00 p.m. Pacific, 6:00 p.m. Mountain, 7:00 p.m. Central, 8:00 p.m. Eastern and elsewhere in the world Tuesday 0:00 GMT.
Where:  Tek Talk Conference Room at:
http://conference321.com/masteradmin/room.asp?id=rsc9613dc89eb2
or
http://www.accessibleworld.org.

Select the Tek Talk room, enter your first and last names on the sign-in screen. All Tech Talk training events are recorded so if you are unable to participate live at the above times then you may download the presentation or podcast from the Tech Talk archives on our website at http://www.accessibleworld.org.

All online interactive programs require no password, are free of charge, and open to anyone worldwide having an Internet connection, a computer, speakers, and a sound card. Those with microphones can interact audibly with the presenters and others in the virtual audience.

If you are a first-time user of the Talking Communities online conferencing software, there is a small, safe software program that you need to download and then run.  A link to the software is available on every entry screen to the Accessible World online rooms.

Sign up information for all Accessible World News Wires and discussion lists is also available at our website: http://www.accessibleworld.org.

Media Contacts:
Robert Acosta, Chair, Planning Committee
818-998-0044
Email: boacosta@pacbell.net
http://www.helpinghands4theblind.com

Pat Price, Founder and Events Coordinator
The Accessible World Symposiums
Vision Worldwide, Inc.
317-254-1185
Skype: patprice1
Email: pat@patprice.org
http://www.accessibleworld.org

So there ya go. Maybe there's hope for me after all.

She Wubba Wubba Wuvs It!

Yea! Heehee! I just found the coolest toy for the Trixter! It squeaks, but it's difficult to murder! Wanna try, Trix, wanna? You have work to do. Everybody who has a power chewer dog but wants to give them a squeaky toy, get them a Cong Wubba! It has a squeaker which is inside a cong which is inside some material that has tails on it so you can tug, they can grab the tails and fling it, and they can squeaky squeaky squeeze it! I bought it at the local toy store, and as soon as I squeaked it, she ran for it! I've been wanting to get her something that squeaks ever since she did enjoy the squeaky doughnut...for its short, pitiful life. And I've found it. She chewed on it, ran with it, squeaksqueaksqueaked it, and it is only wet. There isn't a single chew mark in it.

Oh boy, Trix, your toy box keeps getting heavier and heavier. And here I was the one who laughed at people who kept buying toys for their dogs. I remember thinking "Oh god! When I get this dog, I'm going to have so much preparing to do. I'm going to have to buy so much stuff. Before I went for Babs, I talked to some handlers. They told me about all the stuff I should have on hand for when she arrives. I remember getting off the phone, and shaking. I couldn't stop shaking. I emailed Steve the biggest stream of consciousness-style message about how much stuff I needed, and this was like having a baby! Now I just keep finding stuff, and it's fun!So Trix, enjoy your wubba wubba wubba!

Alligator Stew-Pidity

You know, when you decide to rob a mobile home, bringing a six-foot alligator along for the ride probably isn't a good idea. What did he think. Did he think the alligator would defend him? Did he think the police would just let him go by because he had an alligator in the back seat? Or did he think at all? He's lucky he didn't become alligator bait.

In related stupidity, why would five 18 and 19-year-olds try to steal a little alligator? Let me rephrase that. Why would 3 of them jump in a pond full of little alligators and try to pull one out, without a clue as to what they would do with it? They're lucky nobody got hurt.

Oh yes, and there's always the old story of the guy who jumped in the same alligator pond, naked, as he had fifteen months before when he got heavily chomped upon.

And who could forget Poncho the gator and his meal?

What's with all the alligator-wrestling lately?

GDB Has A Hybrid Car!

This is just a quick post to say that woohoo, GDB now has a hybrid car that will be used in traffic training, ya know, when they drive at us and up from behind us and cut us off and all that. How super awesome cool is that? too bad I didn't get to go through that in training.

for the benefit of everyone in the known universe who wonders why I'm happy about this, let me explain. Have you ever noticed how quiet a hybrid car's engine is? No no, how silent a hybrid car's engine is? Now, remember that I hear traffic rather than see it. So, the more of these silent beasts are out there, the more likely it is I may meet one and not even know it until I'm a pancake. Trixie will do her best to warn me, but it's hard to obey your dog when you have no earthly clue what's happening and you think maybe she's diving into the grass for shits and giggles. So to have a hybrid car coming at you in a training exercise gets you used to how silent they are.

so yea! Future GDB students will have that experience! Go GDB, ever evolving with the times.

Another Parental Disaster

Yeah, breaking a window with a brick and punching school officials who won't release your daughter to you because you're too hammered is a fine example to set for your 2-year-old daughter.

He's 42 Years Old, Never Kissed A Girl

Someone please tell me how ugly this guy is. I'm endlessly curious.

Does The US Military Enjoy Getting Their Own Blood On Their Hands?

I don't really have an organized thought pattern for this story, so I guess I'll just start writing and see what comes out.

James Raymond was a soldier in Afghanistan. He lost the hearing in one ear and he developed a bad knee that needed surgery. He was honourably discharged and declared 10% disabled. They set him up to receive small monthly cheques, and he was told that he was put in the army reserve database, but not to worry because unless world war 3 broke out, he wouldn't be called back. Now, he's being deployed to Iraq!

What in the blue hell is the US military smoking? Sure he may only have the hearing in one ear and a bad knee now, but if he can't move fast enough and he can't hear where all the bullets are coming from, he may be an easy casualty! Sending someone into battle like that is like sending a lamb to the fucking slaughter!

They say that they're going to give him a five-week medical evaluation before they send him for training. For his sake, I hope to christ he fails.

This Story Doesn't Hold Any Water

Ok, a while back, I read a story about a guy, Chad Hudgens, a member of a sales team, who was held down while his team leader poured water down his nose as part of some kind of team-building exercise where he urged the team to work as hard to sell as Hudgens had to work to breathe. That's just sick! Now, the guy's suing them for what they did to him, and the company is saying it never happened like that.

At the time, I didn't post about it, because there was too much he said she said. But now, the quotes have gotten too good. The story goes so far as to say that several people didn't know what waterboarding was. They thought it had something to do with water-skiing. Yeah, riiight. I admit that lots of people don't watch much news, but to not know what waterboarding is? Ok then.

Even better, the company's lawyer says there would have never been a suit if it wasn't for all the stuff that goes down at Guantanamo Bay. Ya wanna bet? If things happened the way Hudgens said they did, the suit still would have happened, just without the term "waterboarding".

And what about this whole bullshit about Chad obviously knowing what was going to happen beforehand because he handed his keys and cellphone to coworkers? I probably would have handed my keys and cellphone to coworkers if I was going to lie on some muddy grassy hill as part of some exercise. Why lose something? Just because I got other people to hold stuff isn't a sure sign I knew I was about to get waterboarded.

And the whole thing about him being able to lift a hand to tell them to stop? There were four people holding him down! Good luck with that, lawyer guy. Let's see how easily you can get an arm out while four people are holding you down and someone's pouring water down your nose. Let's see if you're even thinking about lifting an arm. I'd be too busy trying to speak, realizing I couldn't, and then panicking.

There are so many scummy quotes in here that it's insane. I think the company's lawyer has done more to harm the company's reputation than any throwing around of a given term.

I Have To Put This Up, Or I'll Keep Giggling

16 Apr, Wed, 06:50:39   
Google:  
assful of juicy man goo

Well hello again Hardon Ricky. Nice to see you. It has to be you who searched for such a, um, graphic search term. Sadly, we're on the first page for that queery, below some nasty links to anal videos and something called sex cube. Alrighty then. But the one in search of the man goo came here. Did the anal videos and sex cube not have any man goo? Or maybe it wasn't enough man goo. What's really scary is according to google, it could only find 41 search results for such a thing. On the whole internet, there were only 41 pages that even came close to delivering what our anonymous weirdo behind the keyboard was looking for.

I hope our searcher's quest for man goo ends soon. Even though s/he didn't find it by coming here, s/he sure gave me a giggle.

The Victoria Lindsay Story Gets Weirder

Here's a puzzler for you. Remember I talked about that kid who got the crap kicked out of her by 6 kids who then put the beating on YouTube? Well Apparently the kids bought her drinks and apologized for the beating before leaving her at the drugstore. What kind of freaky people would do that?

There's even a recording of her 911 call where her friend's mom gets on the phone and says these kids have been known to try and run other people off the road. So my question is did YouTube tell them to do that too? This wasn't a one-off. These kids are obviously messed up, and I don't know whose fault it is, but it's bigger than one YouTube filming.

Trixie's Been Home One Year!

I really hope this post doesn't suck, I'm still really tired from taking a two-day first-aid course. But I couldn't let this day pass without saying something.

Trixie has been home exactly a year. Can anyone believe it? It sure feels weird to me, even though I know it's true, and the date is burned into my brain. I remember coming home, and everything was new. Sure, I had done this before, but I lived in a different place, and it was so long ago. There was the art of finding a place where she could do her business that was easy to find. There was learning where exactly I was going to go with the dog poop. There was knowing exactly how often she needed to relieve. Oh the first few days, I was out every couple of hours! Little did I know she would do anything to avoid having an accident in the house, and would tell me if she was about to burst. If I was too dense to get the message, she would bug the hell out of Steve until he said the magic words "uh, Carin, I think she needs to poop."

It was so overwhelming at first. I was paranoid that I wasn't giving her enough attention, even though I pretty much spent every waking minute with her. ThenI was paranoid Steve would feel squeezed out. Yup, I was a nutcase. An exhausted nutcase, but a nutcase. I remember trying to have a conversation with an old friend, and being so tired and worried about Trixie that it was no use.

And then there were the issues with my knee. I remember when mom and dad saw me getting off the plane and trying to walk around with that brace. It just about killed mom to see me in that much pain. I remember being terrified that Trixie would be nuts, just like Babs, and dad would have a heart attack. But Trixie was nearly perfect. I had to put the gental leader on her because she wouldn't heel properly, but other than that, she made them love her in no time flat.

As we climbed into the back of mom and dad's car, I could tell Trixie was wondering what in hell was going on. She squished up against me as close as she could. the poor, poor thing. I joked for a few months that she viewed mom and dad as the ominous agents of change, because they were the first new people she saw once we got off the plane. It was their car that took her to her new home.

This year has taught me a lot of stuff. I remember when I was preparing to get her. I was trying to think of everything, and I was freaking out about what I would have done with her if I was still working with those kids at the women's shelter. I couldn't have her in there with them, one of them might fall on her! But I couldn't leave her up in the office. She might get into trouble or people might feed her, or...oh oh oh what to do? Now I know I would get a collapsable crate, leave it there, and crate her when I was there. Is that really so difficult? But it was difficult at the time. I guess that's what a year's experience will do. It takes the overwhelming and makes it ordinary and easy to solve.

People tell me I've been through the worst of the testing. Now, things should get better and better. I sure hope so. I want many more years with my little genius.

You Are Getting Sleepy...Sleepy...And Stupid...

From the country that brought you
legalized public sex in the park
comes wackiness of such a degree that it has to be a product of all that legalized pot.

Unemployed Dutch people are being forced to sign up for what is being called
past-life therapy
in the hopes that getting in touch with old selves and reflecting on the negative experiences those people might have had will give their current minds some perspective on why they have trouble finding work now.

Government officials, who are apparently serious about this and not just fucking with people because they're high and they can, have gone so far as threatening welfare recipients with the loss of their benefits if they refuse to enter the program.

Luc Winants, the councillor responsible for social affairs in Maastricht, has defended the technique as a spiritual method for helping the unemployed.

“It might very well be true that reincarnation therapy is a means to get people back to work,” he told De Limburger newspaper.

Well ok, when you use that kind of persuasive language, spending those thousands of dollars makes complete sense. I'm a fool for thinking otherwise.

At press time there was no word on whether Mr. Winants had decided to seek therapy to get in touch with the past life that suffered a profound brain injury, but we'll keep you posted.

There's Always Time For Tim Hortons...To Shit All Over The Good Work Of Others

This,
for lack of a better way to describe it, is fucking retarded.

A small cafe set up in the Ottawa Hospital to help raise money to pay for new equipment has seen its revenue plummet ever since a Tim Hortons outlet opened up in the critical care wing of the same facility.

Hospital officials say that the charity gets a percentage of the rent paid by Tims, and that the move will ultimately mean more dollars for the hospital. That sounds great, and it would be if not for the ongoing discussions about whether or not the cafe should remain open or be shut down.

I freely admit that I'm bad at math, but even I'm smart enough to know that a percentage of something, even if it's a big one is less than all of it, which just so happens to be the amount that the hospital takes in from the charity restaurant.

I don't understand why anybody with any business sense or with the best interests of the hospital and it's clients at heart would do something this stupid. Are there Tim Hortons executives on the hospital's board? That's the only reason I can fathom for a decision so utterly absurd. People are willing to donate their time and give you everything they make, and you repay them by allowing a chain store to walk in, take away all their business and then put less money into the fund? Some people are lining their pockets with this deal, I have no doubt about that. It's just a shame that it isn't the people who should be.

I'm Looking Simply USBeautiful Today

The combination USB card reader and compact mirror,
another one of those things I'm not sure how the world has done with out for so long.

Zamzar: Free Online File Converter

I just found out about a service called
Zamzar
that allows you to convert files into several different formats. The best part? The basic service is totally free and works like a dream.

I tested it out by converting some pdf's to text, made a YouTube video into an avi and then into an mp3 quickly and easily. If I were to make one complaint it would be that all but one of my notification emails ended up in my spam folder, but that's nobody's fault and easy to sort out.

The free site will allow you to convert up to 5 files at once to a maximum of 100 megabytes, which is a really nice time-saving feature. If you need to convert more than that you can sign up for one of their paid plans, the priciest of which let's you upload a gig at a time.

I'll link the site in our computer resources section so that you'll always be able to find it if you forget what it's called, but it may take some time to show up there due to me being a lazy, absent-minded prick.

I'm Not Think You Who I Am

The following is a helpful tip from your friends at the Vomit Comet.

If you're going to go out drinking and need to use a fake ID, do your best to make sure that the guy you're pretending to be
isn't wanted by the police for anything.

Winona police were called to Brothers Bar, 129 W. Third St., at 12:43 Saturday morning. The bouncer at the downtown bar suspected he had a fake identification card. The person on the driver’s license, a Kevin Michael Stenson, was 27. But the bar patron didn’t look nearly that old.

Police confronted the man who presented the identification, and he insisted he was indeed Kevin Michael Stenson, according to the police report. Police then ran Stenson’s name through dispatch only to reveal that Stenson had at least one warrant for his arrest.

As they told “Stenson” this, Riley, 20, of Oak Park, Ill., quickly admitted his real name and that he had used the identification to drink in the bar, according to police reports.

Cole Patrick Riley, the man who had been playing the part of mr. Stenson, was taken to detox for the night and has been charged with giving false information to police, underage consumption and possessing the identification of another. He is currently residing in the Winona County Jail and is supposed to be making a court appearance today.

Hell of a way to end a night on the town.

This Story Has It All

This tiny news article
is great for a number of reasons.

1. There were legitimate fears that graffiti that has started appearing at a Florida school showing stick figures with giant peckers was the work of street gangs, because you know how those hoods and thugs love their penis jokes.
2. Police have been called in more than once to investigate and have determined that no, street gangs are not involved.
3. The story was reported under the headline "Explicit graffiti pops up at elementary school."
4. The school in question? That would be Longwood Elementary, of course.

Some days I'm convinced that the news is written just for me.

For That Price I Should Be Able To Ride In It Too

Did you know that for only $3500 you can get yourself a 1950's style hot rod complete with leather bucket seats, a swank paint job and about a zillion other custom features? Well you can.

Sounds awesome you say? Would be a deal at twice the price? Sure, but would you feel the same way if I told you that what you were paying for was a
baby buggy?
No? Yeah, me neither.

It is the ultimate in buggy-bling: the baby-stroller for the infant - and parents - who must have everything. More Top Gear than Mothercare, the latest pushchair from California harks back to classic 1950s hot rods, with chrome trim kit options, teardrop fenders and surround sound to let the baby rock while you are rolling.

The top of the range tailfin Roddler from Kid Kustoms will set parents back at least $3,500 (about £1,750). Customised paint jobs, suede or leather upholstered bucket seats and even brake lights are among extras available.

"Gone are the days of being relegated to pushing your child in something as stylish as a shopping cart. Our buggies are really made the same way a car is, only without the production line. In essence it's the same as having a custom hot rod for your kids."

This seems like as good a time as any to mention 2 things:
1. No matter how much you pay for one of these you still have to push it yourself,
and
2. It's just a baby, a baby that doesn't care and won't remember how it gets around. Save your money and put it through school.

I'm Sorry, I Just Can't Help Myself

Note to journalists everywhere: When writing a story about a guy with a long history of molesting folks on the subway, there's got to be a better way to describe him than
"the 6-foot, 227-pound Johnson",
even if Johnson does happen to be his name. Remember, people like me read these things, and people like me have never been the type to be above going for the easy laugh.

And hey, I
tried to warn you people years ago
about the dangers of letting those things grow too big. See what you get for not listening to me?

The 50 Greatest Comedy Sketches Of All Time

Here's a really cool comedy history lesson, complete with videos for a bunch of them.

Yes, I know rankings like this are subjective and that trying to explain why something is funny is a sure-fire way to make it less so, but there's some great stuff in here that you probably haven't seen before or wouldn't mind seeing again, so just click around and have fun.

The Dream Police

I had the strangest dream last night, and I'm still trying to figure out what it means. Maybe it just means I'm loopy.

I dreamed that I was on some kind of police squad. We would bring people in and question them, I think about drugs, but I'm not sure. Then, when we were sure that the person we had was guilty, we would call in special agents who only came in for these occasions, put the supposedly guilty person in a chair, hook them up to all manner of electrodes, and have them confess, and record this confession. They always thought it was a polygraph that we were doing. But they were in for something completely different.

When the person had confessed to everything, the recorder was turned off, and the agent would say "1, 2, 3!" And I would throw a switch and the chair would show its true purpose. It was an electric chair! I never heard or saw anything. I just knew this. After the person was dead, the agents and I would all sit and eat ice cream! I seemed to have no problem being the one orchestrating these people's deaths, nor did I have a problem with this process. There was no trial, just interrogate and kill. I did nothing except deceive these guys into allowing us to hook them up, and throw the switch that would mean their deaths. What the hell?

But the dream wasn't over. A woman was brought in who was apparently one of the principal figures in some drug ring. But she came in with a cat! It was determined that she was guilty, and was going to be killed, but her cat was going to die too. This was apparently too much for me, and I said I was not going to hook a cat up to the apparatus. But it wasn't because I had feelings for the cat, it was because the logistics were too complicated for me. Was I supposed to shove the wires up the cat's butt? What if the cat scratched me? What if it bit me? I didn't know what diseases the cat had. Even writing this, I get chills.

Because of my refusal to hook up cat and woman, I was reassigned to some other job around the building. Just for shits and giggles, I would come back to the hall near the room when I knew someone was going to get zapped. But only then would I start to be disturbed by the whole process. At the end of the dream, I was talking to another officer when I got the uncontrollable urge to get the hell out of there. I knew that the prisoner was reaching the end of their confession, and I didn't want to be around when the switch was thrown. but something kept me there. I kept saying "I can't stay. I can't stay." then I heard the old familiar "1, 2, 3!" and the electricity started, and the person getting killed just started laughing like a madman possessed by demons, and that's how it ended.

What the hell was that? The only part of the dream that I can figure out was the cat part. Trixie and I were in a pet store yesterday getting more food for her when she sniffed something, I corrected her, and a cat screamed protests at her. But what did the rest of it mean? I have a strange mind. I guess that's all I can come up with.

Colourful Dispute

Oh dear. When the estranged parents of a baby are fighting over which gang's colours their baby should wear, it's a sign they shouldn't have had a kid. Yikes.

More Blinky Gadgets From The Past

After my big tyrade about the slate and stylus, I got thinking about some other fun devices that were designed with the best of intentions, but in practice, they didn't work too well. don't get me wrong, there are a zillion devices out there that made things easier, but a few devices...well, they just weren't helpful.

I've already talked about the beeping baseball. Here's a description of something else that beeps, and doesn't hold up to the abuses it's supposed to. It's called a liquid level indicator.

Basically, it was designed to be a replacement for putting your finger over the edge of the glass to know when you're supposed to stop pouring. the explanation was that you don't want to be pouring hot liquids and using your finger as a stopping point. Either that, or people thought it just looked eeewww to have your finger in a glass while pouring. Anyway, instead of your finger, you put these two prongs over the top of the glass. When liquid hit them, it caused the device to beep, sing "London Bridge is falling down" or give some other audible sign that ya might wanna stop pouring, jackass.

This was great...as long as the device worked. But usually, after it had been hooked over a few glasses, the mechanism ceased to function. Why did we expect it to do anything else? We were exposing electronics to water.

I thought maybe I just had a bad run of luck with those things. I laid waste to two, or maybe 3 of them. But Steve had the same experience. It's sad, because it was a good idea. It just didn't work out. I guess the finger is the only tried and true method.

Next in line to go into the hmmm neat idea until you try it files was the braille eraser. It looked sort of like the stylus, only it was more round at the top. It was designed to rub out individual dots so you wouldn't make a mess when you made a mistake. I watched my teacher use it, and I thought it was cool. Then I got my hands on it, and disaster struck.

Let's just say I didn't have the same precision and aim as my teacher. I would think I was on the dot or letter I wanted to remove, rub away, and make a gouge in the paper! It was deceptively sharp! So now, instead of removing a dot or a letter, I had made a mess of things. Again, I thought I was the only blink to do this and I must be clueless, but Steve told me he did the same thing.

Now let's move up in the world from the simple tech to the more complex. In my early years at school, when I was in the classroom, I wrote everything down with a brailler. This could make things difficult, since I went to a regular school back then, so the classroom teacher certainly couldn't read braille. So, my braille teacher had to write in between my lines of braille. This could be a difficult task, especially since I made a lot of mistakes, so my braille teacher had to play the roll of interpreter/mindreader.

I guess this got pretty troublesome, so she was trying to figure out ways to automate the process. I'm not sure how this came about, but she must have done some research, and discovered a device called an MPRINT. This device hooked into the brailler and connected to a printer. So, I could braille to my heart's content, and every time I slammed the new line key, buzz buzz buzz went the printer, supposedly printing what I just brailled! Sweet, right?

That was great, until I made a mistake. Then I would backspace, but it wouldn't know what to do, and when I would finish the line and hit new line, it would spew garble. So, in the end, my teacher was back to transcribing by hand.

Apparently, as the years went by and before it was discontinued in 1999, it got more sophisticated and capable of understanding what the backspace meant. But that's not the model I got to work with. Mine was very primitive, and of course, I had no way of knowing whether it printed intelligible text or jibberish.

The last piece of holy crap this would be cool if it wasn't for a few kinks technology was something called the Versabraille. In one way, it was way cool, because it opened the doors to much cooler, more reliable braille displays. But you've gotta start somewhere, and we started with the Versabraille.

First off, the museum exhibit doesn't mention its weight. It was goddamn heavy! Maybe I found it this way because I was only 11 years old, and a small 11-year-old at that when we tried this thing out. It was so heavy for me that my teacher wanted me to go down the stairs like this: Put Versabraille on step beside me, step down, slide Versabraille down, lather, rinse, repeat. I told her this would not work when I was travelling among the stampeding hoards of children, and I wasn't even going to try that because I would get killed. The Versabraille might have been fine, but I would be trampled.

And, this thing was so expensive and fragile that nobody was selling it, only renting it. It would have cost $10000 to buy.

At that price, it should have had a better battery low warning than making a sound as if you just lost an arcade game and ejecting your cassette, because yes, your data was stored on cassette. Well, I guess you did just lose a game, if the game was keeping your school assignments. Whatever you hadn't saved before the battery ran out of juice just bit the big one. It especially hurt if you were in the middle of a save when the battery went bye-bye.

It made such a hell of a lot of noise. I would always have to wear headphones when I used it in class because it beeped and booped and bamped whenever you did something it didn't like. No no, we couldn't flash a message on the braille display. We have to boop. This meant that no one else heard the sounds but me, and they'd startle me so bad that I'd jump. Now I looked like a crazy kid, startling in the middle of class over seemingly nothing.

I'm glad it was invented, because it paved the way for better things. But you could certainly tell it was a first try.

While we're on the subject of braille, can someone please tell me the benefits of thermoforming braille onto that thin plastic paper? The only one I can see is it made easy to read diagrams. But reading off thermoform was, well, a bitch! If you were in a dry place, the pages would stick together and make nice little static cling snapsnap noises when you turned them. If you were in a humid place, your hands would stick to the paper! Aaaa! You had to read at the pace of a turtle because you had to drag your hand across something that wanted to grab a hold of your hand and keep it there. Plus, it would rip so easily! I can't count the number of times I would see ripped pages. And don't read thermoform at night if you share a room with someone. Every time you'd turn the page, it would make the biggest racket!

I don't know why my mind has drifted to all these older things. Hopefully people aren't bored, or telling me I should call a waaambulance.

Good Questions

I got asked two interesting questions about Trixie today that I thought deserved a post.

First, I was in the bank waiting in line. From behind me I could hear a kid and his dad ooing and aaaing about Trixie. I eventually turned around and struck up a conversation. The kid said, "Is your dog a girl or a boy?"

"She's a girl." I said.

Right away, he shot back with "What do you do if she goes into heat then?"

Now, there's an honest question! I told him that she's spayed, so there's no heat now. But that's how you know you're dealing with kids. They're not embarrassed about a thing.

The other question I got just about floored me. Someone asked me how much longer I would have with Trixie. I looked at him and my face fell at the thought that he thought we were nearing the end together. I said I hoped to have her for another 7 or 8 years if all goes well. Then he said "Don't you have to trade them in every two years?"

If that was the case, I'd never get a guide dog. The first year is work enough. I couldn't imagine only having her for another year. Every day I hope that she will be with me for a long long time. I have heard so many horror stories of dogs having to retire early, and I've had such good luck with her that I don't want it to balance out by her needing to retire way before she should have to.

That's about it for now. I just thought those were neat questions, and I thought maybe other people would be asking the same ones.

Kids Are Going Down The YouTubes!

Let me get this straight. Victoria Lindsay had anger problems, she was known to mouth off, had fought with her parents and had moved in with a girl who became one of her attackers and was having problems with her, but it's all YouTube's and MySpace's fault that she was beaten up by some girls and driven around for 35 minutes with a bad concussion.

Don't get me wrong, it was a horrible, callous, cold-blooded thing they did. But whose fault is it? Theirs! I doubt YouTube will allow the videotaped brutality to stay up for long, so they're doing their part. Besides, if the kids didn't tape the beating to put on YouTube, they would have found some other reason to be assholes. Like hell MySpace is the antichrist for children. There are just some bad kids out there, and that's all it is. Granted they're getting worse, but don't blame YouTube. Blame them, or if you must blame someone other than them, blame their families.

Parlez-Vous Français?

Remember back when I said I was going to take a conversational French class? Well, today I started it, and although we had a couple of bumps, I think dear old French teacher and I are going to get along fine.

First, let me describe my entrance to the class, because it was, well, unceremonious. I knew this place was far out in boonieville, so I took a cab. My problem was I ended up taking the cab later than I should have, so I arrived late for class. This was not the way I wanted to start off. The last thing I want to do is arrive in class late, because being late sucks, and it tends to send the teacher into unnecessary fits because she has no time to breathe and process this whole blink thing that seems to be so hard to do before class starts. But, sucks to be me, that's what happened.

I walked into the building with the cab-driver because he was all cute and wanted to make sure I got where I was going. I asked the lady at the front desk where the French class was and she said "Hear that photocopier? That's your teacher photocopying stuff. Go find her, she'll show you where class is."

So off I went with a big grin, wondering how this meet and greet was going to go. The poor woman just about died. "You're in my class? I was not warned!" she sputtered in French. I reminded her that I spoke to her in the winter, and since I'd already missed too much, I came to this class. She breathed, calmed herself, and muttered something about not being prepared. I told her to relax and we'll learn as we go. AT least I tried to say that. What came out was a lot of sputtering, breathing, sighing, frustrated attempts to find the words. This, boys and girls, is why I'm in this damn class.

After she showed me to a chair, and everyone ooed at the sight of my four-legged birthday beast of a Trixter, she told me how many students there were. It's a pretty cute class, I think there are only 5 of us. I thought she said there were five others, but when I think back, I cannot remember any more than four people besides me.

Just as I was starting to settle, in charged the sleepy woman I talked about before. She was convinced that I had not paid. I told her I had, and I told her who I had spoken to. The French teacher looked at her and said "It's ok, we're going to give it a try." Damn right we are, I paid the fee. Were they going to escort me out if the teacher said she didn't want to teach me?

It's really weird when you're trying to skip quickly between English and French and you're out of practice. Once you start trying to speak French, it's hard to stop on a dime and go back to English. As soon as sleepy introduced herself, I turned around and started speaking French to her and then went "Oops sorry, you probably don't speak French." It's also really hard to give English commands to Trixie while talking French. It's a brain-twister!

I think I'm putting the teacher at ease though. I already showed her my good memory and the fact that I can speak French, it's just rusty and dusty. I felt bad for the poor guy beside me though. We did an exercise where the teacher read an article to us and then We teamed up and we had to answer questions. He had to read stuff to me so we could work together, and I kept answering the questions before he could find the answer. The teacher was surprised I think. I attempted to tell her that learning to listen well was a necessity, because sometimes in school, the teacher would make up exercises on the fly and I wouldn't have a copy. I think I succeeded in conveying that message. God my French sucks. I can speak simple sentences, but as soon as the message gets complicated, my mind fills with thoughts and I can't sift through them to find the French words.

It's going to be a neat experience. This lady's first language is French, so she doesn't have all the English words at her disposal that we do. So, sometimes she can't just give us the English equivalent for a French word. She has to explain it in other ways. Or, it can go the other way. She asked us if a certain word was masculine or feminine. Someone wanted to know what that word was and asked if it meant string. The teacher said "What is string?" Would you believe that's hard to explain? I couldn't think of how to explain it! I kept thinking of draw-strings in your pants, but that's not accurate. Then I thought of cords, but I didn't want her to think electrical cords. Then I thought about things pulled by strings, but my French is so bad, I was afraid she'd think the thing being pulled by the string was the string. Aa language! How complicated it is!

I was so nervous going in. I didn't know where I would fall on the spectrum of French-speaking ability. I fall in a pretty good spot. There is one guy who's totally whooping my ass who also went to the Summer Language Bursary Program that I went to in 2001, only he went more recently and it shows. And there are others who have great vocabulary, but...ils ont une tray mo vez ak sont. Hopefully someone will get that. That was my attempt to phonetically spell what their accent sounded like if they said they had a bad accent in French. Anyway, I'm right smack in the middle, so I can relax and I'm not going to be laughed at by a mass of folk far superior to me in the French department.

One thing that I found to be slightly chuckle-worthy was the discovery that one of the students must wear hearing aids, and she was sitting furthest from the teacher! Now, wouldn't hearing difficulties be a bigger impediment to a conversational French class than blindness? Just a thought. And why isn't she sitting closest so she can hear best?

I think things are going to go well. The teacher says she's going to email me the sheets she hands out. We'll see if she actually does it. I've found someone who's willing to drive me to class so I don't have to pay 20 bucks a shot in cab fare, so rockin'. the teacher was actually kind of cool about this. I asked if there was anyone who lived in my area of town who wouldn't mind meeting me somewhere and we could come together. A guy agreed to drive me, and the teacher said, "Do you trust him?" That's a fair question. I think I do. He seems like a nice guy, and if anything goes wrong, he's sort of screwed because I can get his whole name from the teacher, not like I'd have to, but you know what I'm saying. He's not very anonymous.

So, hopefully by the end of the course, I'll be able to speak French a hell of a lot better than I can right now. No matter what the outcome, it should be a fun ride.