So I’m at the dealership getting the oil changed this morning when the Service Representative notices the base pass sticker on my windshield.

SR: Are you in the military?
Me: No, but I work on base. I’m a contractor.
SR: Do you get to shop at the Exchange?
Me: I can buy lunch, but that’s it. I’m not supposed to buy gas, but I do it anyway. I figure, I’m already going to hell, so I may as well buy the gas, right?
SR: (His eye widen a bit, then he laughs.) Yeah, that’s true.

…

Aw, man.

In our post-911 society, the desire for security and safety in our neighborhoods has dramatically increased. Enter SRM Associates, who is now offering information on how to achieve it. Hooray for safety!

The site is still growing and I expect new catalog items to be added in the near future, so keep an eye on it!

Two weeks ago my friend Kaiser wanted a hotdog. Now when Kaiser wants a hotdog, what he really means is that he wants three or four of them. So, he buys them at Costco where they’re cheaper. Since he was already there, he decided to browse around the store and ended up coming home with a Playstation 2.

Hogan ran out and bought a couple of games for it and we were all, of course, very happy to help break it all in. Since Kaiser spends so much of his time at work anyway, it migrated over to Arthu’s house for a few days where we raced Gran Tourisimo 4 very badly (I had to drive the Prius, just because it was available), wore the most revealing costumes we could in Soul Caliber II and generally had a great time mocking each other incessantly.

Upon returning from work yesterday, Mym tells me that Arthu ran out and bought his own. Then he proceeds to give me great, big, puppy-eyed looks. Looks that say, we’re moving soon, so we HAVE to buy one so we can take it with us, right? It’s a rare day indeed when I can resist those eyes, particularly when I sort of wanted one myself, though I didn’t want to admit it. So, off we went to Costco for our own PS2 and now my fingers are sore from mashing the control keys for two hours last night.

All because Kaiser wanted a hotdog.