Darth Vader's Bathroom

It's so weird the things your child-mind chooses to remember.  For me, it's obscure quotes that for one reason or another just hang in the ether of my brain.


"Wow, it looks like Darth Vader's Bathroom in here..." –so exclaimed Michael Knight, much respected pilot of the only true K.I.T. in the embarrassingly awful 80s show* "Knight Rider."


However, David Hasselhoff's puffy-haired mind must have been filled with more than several vats of mousse, and images depicting himself in girly, leather pants.  In fact, I believe he must have had a vision of the future.


I make this assertion based on the interior of my wife's newest slick little ride.  Oh, yes last night the misses and I were forced to replace an aging and always shabbily cleaned Volvo 960.  Please pause for a moment to commemorate the life of any car that is requisitioned to become the steed of Stephen Fox.  


It never saw me coming.


But, I digress (without the prissy attitude that normally comes with digressing).  The inside of the new car is sweet.  It's like the inside of some crazily organized space ship.  I could in fact see ole' DV taking a twosy** in there while he caught up with holographic displays of the Empire's latest defeat at the hands of "those pesky rebels!"


Anyway, my wife will probably not appreciate my allusion to her car as the latrine to the dark lord, but in the mind of all 30-something guys, it's a compliment.  I mean, I imagine that Mister Vader has to have a pretty nice "potty***" if for no other reason than to give the Emperor a nice place to sit his wrinkly cheeks when he stops by for quarterly inspection.


* For the record, all 80s shows with the exception of "The Muppet Show," "Enforcer," and "M*A*S*H*" were eye-twitchingly awful.


**"Twosy" is a term I have only heard the fabulous "J.D." of "Scrubs" fame utter.  I love the show, so I love to use it's girly lingo.  Don't question my masculinity for use of said girly word.


***"Potty" is the preferred term for restroom among my wife's portion of the family.

World 4-3

So, I got my wife a Wii.

So far, the biggest hit is the "Virtual Console." Christmas day she excitedly downloaded "Super Mario Bros. 3." Since then, we spend evenings with her on couch 1-playing, and me on couch 2-laughing and trying not to be a punk when she jumps mustache first into an oncoming fireball.

Watching SMB3 (I can abbreviate because it's a lot to retype, however probably not as long as this explanation...) has taught me two things:

1.) Some venus flytraps are abundantly scarier than others (some apparently have a murderous streak.).

2.) All good things have "Water Levels."

It's the unwritten rule of all things incredibly good. You can't have chocolate chip cookies without some nut obsessed person dumping unnecessary walnuts all over previously pristine cookies. Likewise, you can't have the silly, unbridled fun that is running, jumping, and dying in humiliating ways without the mind-numbing frustration that is perfectly encompassed in all Water Levels. I mean, c'mon...is there anything more humiliating than being killed by a fish?

So, I bet you thought this was going somewhere with some sort of clever life parallel, didn't you?

Nope.

I just hate those stupid water levels.

Also, if it's "Mario Bros.," does that mean Mario's name is "Mario Mario?"

Auto-Pilot

Dude. You know what drives me crazy? Betcha do. Bet it drives you crazy too.

Okay, imagine it...there you are, in the middle of your day, walking down the hall. You take a turn into the copy room, and there she is...CRAP.

Now, normally you're the sort of person that really, really tries to get along with everyone. This chick (We'll call her Cheryl, cuz who likes the name Cheryl?) though, drives you crazy. Despite her obnoxiously peppy attire, oblivious stare, and inability to adhere to any deadline, you don't have any rock solid reason to despise her...but you do.

Why does she drive you nutty?

You: Hey Cheryl.

Cheryl: OH! Hiiiiiiiiii! How was your weekend?

(Exaggerated smile, keeps making copies.)

You: Oh, not too bad. Kinda--

Cheryl: Oh, that's greeeeaaaat. (Already breaking eye-contact)

How's that little girl Layla? (her name is LE-LA...for the millionth time.)

You: Well, she's walking alr--

Cheryl: Oh, that's greeeeeat. How special for you.

(cheeks rise, making stupid-looking squinty eyes, begins walking away...)

I simply call it Auto-Pilot.

Auto-Pilot is what happens when we're around people that we KNOW care more for our opinion than we do for theirs. It's a response to irritating, non-stop talkers that go on and on about their nieces favorite type of "My Little Pony" while you're trying desperately to pack up to head home. It's what we do to survive those face-numbing conversations that don't quite deserve the ferocity of our harsh honesty.

When used, Auto-Pilot saves relationships, and helps us all keep our jobs. Auto-Pilot is a useful tool...usually.

However, Auto-Pilot usage has one critical rule:

1.) Be more socially aware or intelligent than your Auto-Piloted victim.

If you EVER fail to adhere to this rule, your Auto-Piloted conversation partner will immediately sense your ruse, and despise you for seemingly no reason. Auto-Pilot is a dangerous mistress.

You know it's true. You know when you're being Auto-Piloted by a dummy, and it's infuriating. The reason it's so frustrating is simple. Auto-Pilot says: "You're not worth sincerity, because you're too stupid to notice it's absence."

YouTubing

Sometimes-hilarious-other-times-idiotic-time-waster.com must have been taken.

Here I sit, eating my lunch in the middle of my first day back at work after Christmas vacation. To say that I'm productive today might qualify as statement of blasphemy on some level; or at least on the same level of truthfulness as calling Steven Sommers a patient, thoughtful storyteller.*

So, as is my tradition on days like these, I am indulging in short distractions on such a level that they are now "holy crap, how long have you been on that site!?" sort of distractions. Some sites are worse than others, but none are worse than YouTube.

From "Boogie Boogie Hedgehog," to "California shaped boogers," I find myself spending truly offensive amounts of time clicking on links in the "related" column until I'm watching something completely unrelated (Zombieland movie trailer).**

What a brilliantly dangerous concept.

Give a weapon of mass communication to ANYONE. Three clicks, and I'm lost in a dizzying array of crap or giddyness. Thank you YouTube, I hate you (not really).

*Steven S0mmers is the sometimes fun, always brainless director of: G.I. Joe: The Rise Of Cobra, Van Helsing, & The Mummy.

**Anyone that hasn't seen Zombieland should...unless you don't dig zombies or hilarity.