I don't know about you, but I'm the type of guy that can't just cook a simple omelet and call it breakfast. If I'm going to go through the trouble to do anything more than fry a sunny side up egg, I'm going all out. This generally means at least a 20-min trip to the store and back for fresh veggies, at least an hour of prep and cooking (homefries don't make themselves!), and the cooking of several meals before my own (if I'm cooking for me, I'm cooking for the lady and my roommate). This generally means that I don't cook breakfast too terribly often. Even still, sometimes I'm in the mood, and since quitting smoking, I've been in the mood a lot more. Today was one of those days.

As such, I present to you My Breakfast.

• Three-egg omelet. Three cheese (cheddar, monterey jack, and swiss), bacon, avocado, and a mixture of sautéed onions, green bell peppers, and baby portobello mushrooms.


• My world-famous cajun homefries.


• Crisp maple bacon.


• Six-grain and pumpkin seed toast with strawberry preserve.


• Orange juice, coffee, and ice water.

Om nom.

What did you eat for breakfast?

I really, really miss this thing. Well, not lj itself so to speak, but the typing, the informing, the having-the-blog thing. I'm working on starting again (have been for a while), but it's just... figuring out how I want it, what I want it to be. Will it be here? Will it be wordpress? Maybe I'll buy my own domain. Who knows. But yeah, I miss it, and I miss all of you.

Pardon the recruitment post, but I figured it was worth a shot. While we're fine with what we have at the moment (which is to say, raids occur weekly), a few more for padding never hurt anyone, especially with the summer approaching quickly. Therefore, without further ado -

-----

( Details Beyond Title/Pitch Under the Cut )

If anyone is on Twitter, set your location to Tehran and your time zone to GMT +3.30. Iranian Security forces are hunting for bloggers using location/timezone searches. The more people at this location, the more of a logjam it creates for forces trying to shut Iranians’ access to the internet down! We must help them! Cut & paste & pass it on! Go Humans!!!

I will do this, if only to assist those who refuse to have their voices hushed; I suggest anyone who supports free speech over tyranny and the right to be heard regardless of your views over suppression of the lower classes to do the same. Worst case, it's a temporary empty gesture to help make those of us living quiet, comfortable, privileged lives feel better about ourselves. Best case - we help give a voice to those who have been silenced.

Today is Day Two of not smoking. This is hard.

Wrath of the Lich King is officially live; I officially have my Collector's Edition, and I am officially on vacation for the next week. See you in Northrend. =)

I have never in my life been so proud to be an American.

Also, I never thought I'd say those words.

Maybe it is time for change.

Thank you, America.

Good night. =)

I voted; did you?

linkylinky



Discuss.

( I'm proud. )

Casual guild what? Eat that.

I just did something I never, ever do.

Let me explain.

I roll up to Prospect Liquors to grab some beer (it's my turn to buy), and this dude asks me if I can spare a smoke. Of course I can; I smoke hand-rolled; they're not so precious or so expensive as to deny, well, anyone a single. I start rolling him one, and he proclaims that of course he can roll, which is fine by me. We chatted about something random for a minute, and then as I was heading in, he asked if I could spare $2 for some vodka. I said "I'll see what I can do." I headed in, thinking about that exchange.

Now, usually, I'd just say "I can't today man, sorry" and continue on my day. I'm relatively unassuming and sociable to eccentric homeless (and this man was certainly eccentric, to say the least), and occasionally I'll spare some change if I happen to have some in a pocket, but for the most part, I just say hi, maybe a few words back and forth (because they're like, people, and thus deserve at least the recognition of that fact), and I go about my day.

For some reason, something that I can't quite figure out, I even considered it for this guy. He wasn't particularly outstanding in any respect (in relation to some of the real fun homeless I've encountered in this fine city); he was filthy, kinda weird, and totally wasted and/or out of his mind. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what about him gave me a pause at all. Regardless, once I stepped into the liquor store, I knew what I was about to do.

I got him a $2 bottle of vodka.

It was some random cheap-ass shit, the kind I've never tasted, and only knew existed because I've seen plastic half-pints of it littering downtown alleys and drainage grates. I got my beer (half case of Harpoon IPA), went to the counter, and said "I hear that one can procure half a pint of vodka for $2". The clerk, who has seen me many, many times, and in general only sees me buy decent to fantastic beer or Bombay Sapphire, gave pause. "You want to buy $2 vodka?" he asked. "That I do."

And it was done. I went outside, went over to the man, said "here you go, buddy," and handed him the bottle. He was floored. I wonder how long it's been since someone actually did that for him. We chatted for a bit; we talked about where we're from, where we've been, astrology. His name is Sully, he's 53 years old, grew up in Cambridge (his family has been here for like hundreds of years), he's been to every state in the US except for Alaska and Vermont. He's a triple Scorpio. Both his father and his grandfather smoked; his old man died young of lung cancer. He used to do smack. He was really psyched that I was born in Taunton, and that my name was Peter. He's the first person to guess my age right off the bat in I don't know how long (it's his son's age).

At some point in the conversation, he began to shed tears. No sobs, but serious tears nonetheless, just sort of seeping out his eyes, gliding down his face, unnoticed or ignored by him. I don't know what caused them, and I didn't want to bring them to his attention for fear of embarrassing him. He seemed really, really happy that this kid, this random guy, was chatting with him, spent two bucks for him, and was treating him like what he is - a human being, no better or worse than anyone else. Just a guy in a shitty situation, nevermind how he got there or why he's still there. None of that mattered to me. He was a nice guy, that's what was important, and two bucks doesn't mean shit against that, at least in that moment.

I mean, times are super tight for me right now (I've spent waaaay too much money out in the past few weeks on account of the Red Sox, my little sister's 21^st birthday is tomorrow and I'm taking her out, I still haven't paid my phone bill since September, and rent is due next Wednesday), but seriously - two dollars for me is nothing compared to what it is for him. Especially considering the fact that both he and I, with two dollars, would be using it on alcohol. Two bucks would be like, a third of a beer tonight while I watch the world series. Two bucks for him turned into half a pint of vodka, which should make him at least as happy as that beer tonight would have made me. I see it as fair enough.

As I got on my bike and started heading on my way, he said "stay safe"; I bid him the same.

I meant to post this last night, but I went to bed early.

Rest In Peace, Mr. Butch. You will be missed by many.

I remember seeing Mr. Butch when he was the King of Kenmore Square, back when there was a Kenmore Square. Or at least, back when there was something left of it - the Rat was gone, but Deli Haus was still there, Fuel was still there, the Iron Lung was around the corner, and down the street, An Tua Nua was still Ri-Ra. He used to wander back and forth up Comm. Ave., or hang in front of the Store-24 on the corner across from - what the fuck is that place, Bertucci's? Pizzeria Uno? - and just sort of be weird and silly back when I was walking to Axis and Karma when I worked there.

After the death of the Haus, I saw him more in Allston, in front of that Store-24, most often hanging out with that crazy Asian guy that doesn't really talk to people very often - the one dressed in all black leather with spikes and shit that sort of mumbles like the kid with no tongue from the People Under The Stairs and rumor has it that if you are mean to him he'll kick your ass - and they'd just kick it and be drunk.

He was always really, really nice, and occasionally prophetic. He will be missed.

There is a memorial service on Monday - I can't seem to find the info currently. I'll post it if people are interested.

If you want to learn more about him, he's got a MySpace page, a wikipedia page, and tons of stuff on YouTube.

I just went for a leisurely ride around my neighborhood on my new bike. It totally ruled. However, there was a certain feeling of discomfort there, a certain... lack of something; a point of guilt.

On a certain level, I feel like I have betrayed Janet by buying another bike. Allow me to explain.

She and I have been through *so much* together. She was my first real bike (other than the random bike I have in my Dad's attic that I got when I was like seven years old); she was the bike on which I learned to ride city; my first real ride on her was two years ago at Lady K Ride. I still have the tiny bell from that ride tied to her handlebars.

She is the bike on which loxocele taught me how to do a complete overhaul (yay for headset races!). She's the reason I know that in '74, Schwinn was making non-standard tire sizes, so their '74 26x1 3/8 is 9mm larger than a current standard 26x1 3/8 (this is important stuff!).

I've been doored five times on her, gotten caught in in-street Green Line trolley tracks thrice, hit a pedestrian, and been sideswiped, backed-into, and thrown over the trunk of a car on her. I've changed over a dozen flats, replaced the wheels twice, done road-side by-eye wheel truing more times than I can count, and converted her from a five-speed to a single. Each and every single time I've arrived at a destination, I have thanked her (and Copilot, a blue stuffed animal manatee tied to the handlebars) verbally, out loud, regardless of who was around.

I realize how ridiculous it is to anthropomorphize an object to quite this extent, but she's special to me. She's changed my life in more ways than I can fathom, and has been more of a positive influence in my life than nearly any singular person or thing I can remember, save for (unquestionably) my aunt Diane. The second I saw Janet get wheeled into my warehouse (back when I worked receiving at Boomerangs) I fell in love; she made me *want* to better myself, to do something other than sit around all the time. She was the impetus I needed to begin learning how to better my health, my drive, my outlook on life, my dedication to a task at hand; it goes on.

I guess it just feels somehow wrong that I was out having fun on a new, unknown, unnamed Stranger Bike (not even a chopper!) while Janet was locked, alone (Copilot is in my bag), to a sign post in Allston. *sigh*

I think about things too much.

dropkickatari and I walked Janet (my old bike) from the crash site in Allston to Cambridge Bikes on Mass. Ave. today.

As it turns out, Janet was totaled in the crash. The fork is busted, the frame is slightly bent, the wheels are trashed, the entire braking system is trashed. All in all, repairs to get that '74 Schwinn Sport Collegiate back in working order would run be somewhere between $600-800.

Therefore:

I am now the owner of a brand new 2007 SE Lager.

I customized the handlebars (I can't stand bullhorns), increased the rear cog from 16 to 18, and replaced the toe clips with clipless (I know I'm wasting energy; I just can't freakin' stand being clipped in). The rear hub is a flip-flop (for when I *really* go hipster and decide to train myself fixie) and all I need now are some grips (because I didn't like the ones at the shop, so I rode home gripless and it was annoying in this heat).

Janet is now locked to a street sign in Cambridge, and I will need to find some kind soul with a car willing to pick up Janet from Cambridge and transport her back to my home in Brighton. Bribes of beer are on the table.

Even still, all in all, that's not a bad day, especially on someone else's dime. I rule.

So here we are. 2007. Ok.

Not quite sure how I feel about it so far.

I spent the stroke of midnight on the 66 bus heading from Harvard to Allston with regenald , angelbug0114 and intercat . We happened to be going over the JFK St. bridge, so we got to see a few distant glimmers of explosions down the river, peeking over the edge of MIT buildings that look like diseases before the closer buildings hid them from our view of the skyline. It seemed somehow appropriate.

Even though I busted my ass [who am I kidding? I mean even though clara_girl and arcanus busted their asses] to get myself and two others on a guestlist for a hip party, we didn't end up going. I'm ok with this, though, because I honestly ended up spending NYE with almost everyone I could have wanted [and realistically expected] to see.

Went to SCUL's Closing Ceremonies; was given the honor of a Bronze Cog Award. I am in rare form, which is to say deeply moved and humbled by this gesture. The thought of it kind of chokes me up, and I struggle to keep tears at bay. I am grateful, overjoyed, and almost nearly speechless. Thank you.

( Bronze Cog Pics )

Had some food and drink at Sunset Grill; met up with loxocele and her boy, and the lot of us went back to intercat's house for Mario Kart and Total Recall.

2006 Year In Review.

This year I:

• Quit a job I hated.


• Learned how to pull espresso.


• Won something on merit instead of skill or luck.


• Gave an old-school cocktail game system to a friend.


• Downed Ragnaros for the first time.


• Got punched in the face by a complete stranger.


• Cried in front of another person.


• Was thrown up on by a stranger.


• Got someone back into smoking by teaching them how to roll their own.


• Had a conversation with my niece.


• Was an inconsiderate asshole on more than one occasion, and haven't forgotten a single one.


• Went skinny dipping many, many times.


• Buried a close friend.


• Experienced one of the best thunderstorms of my life.


• Felt my heart break.


• Saw one of my favorite couples get married.


• Ate a donut in 15.27 seconds, while racing a chopper.


• Started playing guitar again.


• Lost one of my most precious physical possessions, and then found it again.


• Voted in a local election.


• Remembered what it means to care about someone, regardless of pragmatism and/or mutuality.


• Learned how to true a wheel.


• Finally got a cell phone.


• Made concrete plans to move to Cambridge next year.


• Missed far too many of you.

There are LOTS more, but I'm forgetting them, because I'm kinda drunk and tired.

( See? )

Best to all. Good night.

Limewire Hits Back Hard: Sues RIAA For Antitrust And Consumer Fraud
from the this-may-get-interesting department

---
Last month, the RIAA sued Limewire after Limewire wouldn't agree to simply roll over and pretend the RIAA's interpretation of the Supreme Court decision in the Grokster case was actually what the Supreme Court said. The court actually said that services could be found liable, if they were shown to actively induce infringement. The RIAA and the MPAA pretended this meant that any file sharing network that had unauthorized content was flat-out illegal. Of course, that's a bit of a stretch.

( Read the whole thing... )

Thoughts?

EDIT: Sometimes all the pics don't display, because Verizon sucks. Just refresh.

So yes. Definitely sick. Started feeling horrible sometime Friday night, but I just pushed through it for SCULimpics. Woke up Saturday morning (of my own accord) at 7am; I'm assuming a combination of habit from work and the oppressive heat and humidity.

Regardless, made myself some food and rode over to Somerville. Got all pre-flighted and ready to go, then headed over to the site with grimlocke to kick out the civilians in our spot. As it turned out, *someone* (read: Somerville) forgot to put up "no parking" signs on one side of Dover St., so we ended up getting moved over to Day St, which was fine.

( Fleet and setup ahoy! )

Fleet arrived, setup began, a crowd gathered around at the site of the Fleet and the sounds of ChopperGroove, and the events began!

I will *attempt* to remember relative order.

Began with the SCUL100. Basically, the street is littered with orange cones. Pilots pick a cone, and on the call, begin to orbit the cone (ride around it). First Pilot to reach 100 orbits wins. If a Pilot drops their landing gear (touches the ground with their feet), they are penalized 10 orbits.

About half-way through this event, non-participating pilots began running around and moving cones, thus setting the silly tone for the afternoon. (A side-note: any Pilot found to be taking the events seriously is disqualified.)

I dunno who won; I know I didn't. =)

Next up was (I believe) the ChopperLimbo. How low can you go... on a chopper? Threespeed rocked us at this one, taking the gold. I snagged myself a Bronze in this one through a heavily unfair five-Pilot Paper-Rock-Scissors game.

( zOMG Threespeed rocks! )
Next up: Donut. The kids loved this one (seriously). One lap race, while consuming a chocolate donut. Pilots CANNOT cross the finish line until the ENTIRE DONUT is consumed. This is harder than it seems for most, especially in 90º weather in the beating sun. Too much chewing, imo. So I stepped up, squished it with my tongue, and consumed the damn thing in three bites, snagging the Gold and setting a new world record of 15.2 seconds. Go me!

We even had some kids volunteer to try it; go Civilian Kids!

( Choppers and Children and Donuts OH MY )
After that things get fuzzy for me, and I forgot that I had a camera. I know that loxocele showed up around that time, had a really cute bug, and got me food (so sweet!). Events that occurred:

DoubleMint: Pilots carry one chopper while riding another chopper, ride to the end of the course, then switch choppers and ride back. (I missed this one, as I was on a snack mission).

Kick the Ghost: Pilots ride at a plastic ghost, and see how far they can kick it. I sucked at this one.

Monkey: Kinda like DoubleMint, except instead of carrying a chopper on your back, you're carrying another Pilot, and the Pilots switch at the other end.

Tube Pump: Pilots are timed to see how fast they can pump up a standard tire tube until it explodes. The kids REALLY loved this one. Explosions are superposi!

ChopperHaul: All ships are placed in a heap at one end of the course, and a starting line is drawn. 20 yards from there is a finish line. Pilots mount a ship, and then gather up as many other ships as they can carry. Once they pass the starting line, they can have no assistance, and can not touch the ground. The Pilot who can carry the most choppers from the starting line to the finish line while riding a chopper without touching the ground wins. I placed Bronze with 2 choppers. SecretChief, I think, won Gold with five. He also broke one of the limbo 2x4s.

Derby: Pilots attach plastic ribbon to their necks, and hang a fwe feet of it off their back. They then ride around in the derby area and attempt to be the last Pilot standing. If your ribbon is pulled, you're out. If your body touches the ground in any way, shape, or form, you're out. I won Bronze, Acehole won Silver, Captain Underpants won Gold (damn she's good!). At one point in the Final Round I ended up slamming dead into Nameless, knocking him over, hopping onto him and running over him and his ship; it was completely awesome. So happy.

( winnings and some random pics! )

So yes; that was SCULimpics '06. Next year I'll have a better camera (maybe), and take more pictures, and hopefully feel better. And be drunk. Yeah.