Saddam: 'I Am Not Afraid of Execution...of others.'

AP - 1 hour, 18 minutes ago

BAGHDAD, Iraq - Saddam Hussein told the judge at his trial Monday that "I am not afraid of execution". "I have witnessed many people executed and have no problem whatsoever. In fact, I bring a picnic lunch and enjoy the show. You call yourself a real man? I can handle all sorts of... wait, who? Me?? No, I think you got that wrong. Wait, really? Really? Whoa, whoa, let's talk about this. I didn't think you meant... no, you've got that wrong. You have to."

I pass this sign a lot when driving to work in the morning, and it never fails to crack me up how Kim Bon Jun is posed in this picture. (I assume that's who the model is, the owner of the company.) Forgive the poor photography, I was driving at the time. However, Kim Bon Jun is not pointing at something, instead he's raising his fist in might at the viewer - "I am KIM BON JUN! Fear me!"

I particularly like that "SIGN" is singular, not plural. May be a cultural difference, but it seems funnier a sign to be labelled "SIGN".  Far more abstract and surreal in my mind.

This has happened to me more than once, I'm afraid. Some developer/project manager/self-proclaimed expert who says, "Well yeah, bugs are bad. But I mean, they've never killed anyone."

Guess again, Scooter. Wired just announced the top ten worst software bugs in recorded history (Read the information for yourself.) Among the recorded info is included a radiation therapy software application that accidentally killed eight people because the doctors using the software were unaware what their actions would do by "modifying" the software's output.

Yep. Computer software is in the cars you drive, the systems of the cities you sleep in, the planes you travel in and the hospital equipment used to save your life. And it could potentially kill you.

But don't worry. We're here to protect you. We're QA. Sleep tight.

It's a fascinating piece of scientific discovery, one that I simply must share with you. In the Biology department of UCLA, they recently concluded a fifteen year study about the quantification of existence, literally the definition of life. What constitutes the actual physiological difference between living and dead tissue, categorizing that which define what life is. And finally, they've released their findings in the newest issue of Scientific American. Apparently, after fifteen years of painstaking research and a seven million dollar grant funding this research, these scientist have finally concluded that yes, life really ain't nothing but bitches and money.

I think we can all walk away with a little something now that we know that. Certainly makes me a more spiritual person. Gives meaning. Focus.

Yesterday while shopping through the Galleria, I glanced over at this girl I'd peg for about eighteen walking with a twelve-year-old girl. Normally, this wouldn't catch my eye in the slightest, except the twelve-year-old was walking with her hands behind her back, which I thought was strange.

Upon second glance, I realized the twelve-year-old was handcuffed. And I was taken back by this, might I add. I wasn't surprised the twelve-year-old was handcuffed, although she certainly didn't look like she lived in want of anything (probably picked up for shoplifting). But the undercover cop was the most effective narc I've ever seen in my life. She literally looked like she would be hanging outside with the skaters, smoking a cigarette as she waited for her parents to pick her up. Of course, this would be the point of an undercover cop, but I honestly would never have picked her out in a million years as undercover (or even over the age of 18.) I used to pick them out with relative ease but not anymore. Maybe I've grown respectable. Quit laughing.

I suppose this goes to show that the police in my area are getting frighteningly good at undercover work. And you shouldn't shoplift.

 

So as Lex pointed out, I have only recently switched my daily schedule. Although I am consistently a night person (and have been since I was eight months old), I am attempting to make the conversion to what many called "an early morning schedule." I, on the other hand, call it "the way of pain."

There are, of course, specific reasons - Jadine has recently been attending an early morning "boot camp" where she pays for the privilege of doing push-ups until she pukes in the early morning hours. I can't really talk, however - I'm a tequila drinker, so paying good money to eventually puke makes a weird logic to me. But because this early morning bootcamp occurs at oh-my-god in the morning, and if I get home late from work I probably see her (awake) for approximately an hour, maybe two. And that's not festive time together, really. Eventually she wakes up, realizes I've drawn something on her arm with a felt-tip pen,  and then she beats the snot out of me. And rightfully so.

But as you know, I also work out. So on top of my normal work hours, I need to find a way to squeeze in an hour and a half or so each day in order to keep my Brad Pitt without a shirt definition going. (I of course speak of Bradley Pitt of Madison, Wisconsin who works as a professional bookkeeper for Long's Drugs.) So I have now switched to a morning schedule to see how that will work out. So far, I am not dead. There have been doubts.

My father used to be on a morning schedule when working downtown, and wake up at approximately 5am every morning to drive into Los Angeles. I used to find this peculiar, and often kept quiet in my bedroom as I listened to him get ready for work in the morning (having yet to go to sleep.) Now I'm doing the same thing. We really do become our parents, and it's frightening as hell. When I start rooting for the Oakland Raiders, I will be worried. (But that's another discussion.)

The gym is also radically different in the early morning, but not in how you would expect. There are still quite a number of people working out, but almost all of them are serious about it. None of these soft-bellied exec's who are pretending to work the treadmill while they read the newspaper. No, these people want to get their morning started. I find it particularly unsettling that the same personal trainers I see at around 6pm are also on-hand at 6 in the morning. Don't these people go home? Surely, they're human, right? RIGHT???!?

Lex says he enjoys this "Morning Deuce" experience because a. He has someone to talk to when he gets in, and b. I seem far more cheerful. That's not good cheer, folks. That's sleep deprivation making me giddy and slaphappy. However, it's encouraging us all to do things like drink wheatgrass shots. Take that for what you will. I am particularly amused that when we order the shots, the people behind the counter grow wide-eyed and spooked. I get the sensation not a lot of people do this. Either that, or they fear we'll ask for the enema.

So it's Day Three of the Early Morning Experience and my eyes no longer hurt for the first three hours I'm awake and my body heat schedule is starting to slowly adjust. (slooowwwwwly. I wouldnt' mind wearing a parka for the first half of the day.) Around two, I do find the day to get sluggish, so I'm hoping this goes away. Some day. Maybe. This is not my first experience in early morning life, by the way - in college, I did the morning shift for the radio station oncampus which was quite an amazing experience. You think I'm incoherent and giddy now, you have no idea what we were broadcasting over the air at this time. I'm sure the FCC made a phone call. After my shift, I would pass out in the DJ's lounge until my 11 o'clock class. Worked great.

So now I'm waking up and we'll see how long this sticks. It will last at least until Jadine's Bootcamp class ends, I think. She's a morning person, anyway. It's the only thing that explains these magic marker comments written on my forehead in the morning.

 Oh, and one more thing - now that I'm going to the gym in the morning, now Foobonic can enjoy my presence and motivation as he works out. Because he swears he's been going in the mornings, you see. Yeah.

Because of today's BID being truncated in the title, it reads "

Strangely, I find this much more an intriguing a question. Exactly when am I? Am I at the beginning of wonderous things of this century? Am I at the end? Am I starting new points of interest within my existence? Am I about to end important chapters to my life? We all roughly know where we are, but do we know when we are? 

It's kind of like the Denny's** outside of Pomona, where the sign has partially burnt out. Instead of saying "Denny's - Always Open," it just says. "Denny's - Always." Somehow, it just seems to make sense.

----

**Note - For those outside of the US, "Denny's" is an all-night restaurant chain in the United States that serves middle America food - burgers, pancakes, chicken fried steak, etc.

I thank the evil cosmic masters for granting their humble servant his greatest wish. I am jumping up and down in my chair with jubilant glee at the possibilities available to me.

Two. Simple. Words.

DEATH RAY! (link returned!)

Oooooh, I gotta build me a death ray. Of course, I've already discussed the possibility with the Missus, and she's insisting I keep it at the office if I should construct one. Otherwise, as she puts it, "the house is just another place you work." She's really a spoilsport when she wants to be.

Can't wait to fill out the Project Request form for this. ::cue evil maniacal laughter::

1. http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050920/ap_on_bi_ge/microsoft_reorganization
What exactly does Microsoft's re-orginzation mean in terms of its employees and overall focus? The exec's at MS don't even use the facilities without having a specific plan in how it will their overall competitive edge in the market (based on Bill's overall decision-making process.) I hope their re-org will buck the normal trend and mean more jobs for people in Redmond, as opposed to people losing them.

2. Need to work on Brian's website for his dental practice. Blue and white are good colors for a dental practice, I think. Reminds me of Crest.

3. Thank God we were able to get the Funeral gig to replace our lost slot for Club RedLight in October. Not trying to be frustrated by it, but... it's still frustrating.

4. What is the fascination with John Cena here on Grab? He's not a particularly interesting wrestler, he's not even a good rapper. For my money, nobody's better than Chris Benoit. Anyone that trained out of the Hart Dungeon is tough as a coffin nail, it seems. Why the hell doesn't Los Angeles have any decent independent wrestling org's? I blame Rob Black.

5. Interviews continue to expand the Monster Garage. God I hope we find a good welder. We need more welding. Someone who throws the instructions away on the model kit and builds their own hot rod.

6. Congratulations to Big Daddy Roth who recently returned from his honeymoon and gave many of us little cursed Tiki gods, not unlike what caused the Bradys all that trouble. Missed ya, Big Daddy.

7. Some sins are never washed away.

8. Does soup go with red wine? Depends on the type of soup, I imagine.

9. Myspace is having login problems, forbidding people to log into the site. And across the corporate world, productivity in the workplace suddenly rises.

10. Some people are asking for God to screw their stuff up. Sometimes they do it with their relationships.

overhearing one of the building security talk about how "guns just feel good in her hand and that's why she's not allowed to own one."

...or...

Going into the front lobby men's room and finding the commode seat GONE. Not off the hinges, just flat out GONE...begging the question who removed it from the washroom and for God's sake why.

 

Either way, I'm hiding under my desk today for my own safety.