A Missing Chapter

Does anybody but me actually admin to enjoying Star Trek?

I thought not, but I'm going to tell you about some little revelation I had. In the first and second seasons of every Star Trek show, they have no idea what the fuck they're doing. Well, maybe on Enterprise, which might explain the lack of charm people felt towards the whole show.

The first season of The Next Generation, or TNG, was rife with poor acting and bad ideas. Picard's character was written as the anti-Kirk, but Stewart play him just like Kirk, down to the pauses between words... or mid-words, as it were. There were rehashes of Original Series, or TOS, episodes and homages that went way past homages and straight in to bludgeoning. All of the character motives lacked any subtleties or clever nuances that kept the viewers interested in later episodes.

In short, it's fascinating to watch, and god-damned hilarious.

But I'm going to focus on one episode in particular. An episode I had no idea even existed until 2001 or so.

Season 1, Episode 25.

In this Episode, an Admiral comes to take the Enterprise away from Picard to use for his own devices. During all of this, they discover that the Admiral is actually an alien, whoo took over the Admiral's body and was trying to make the Enterprise a part of an alien fleet loyal to the aliens who had taken over bodies in the upper echelons of Star Fleet's ranking staff.

Before this episode, there is never a mention of any aliens or this plot, mostly due to the caustic nature of the show in it's infancy. I'm willing to deal with this.

But they never mention this again. Ever. Not even in stagnant conversation.

Like during a poker game.

"Commander, do you remember at the end of the first year, when all hell broke the fuck loose?"

"No, and neither should you. Raise, indiscriminate amount, regardless of the fact that we don't have currency."

It made me hope that it would come back and bite them in the ass later... but I didn't even get that satisfaction.

Instead... we got the Borg.

And someone stopped doing drugs.

DIY Your Life

My father was never what you'd call a "handy" man. Thanks to that, neither was I.

I've tried to be, lately, with The Wife's father's help. And I've have some successes. And some longer term failures.

The work I did solo, on the shower, was a tremendous success. I had help with the kitchen sink (which I'd discovered recently, actually leaks). But guess what, I know how to fix it. That's right, this morning, I found inspiration on one of my two favorite places to think.

I always do my best thinking in bed, just before sleep claims my consciousness. My second muse inducing spot? Like any other man, it's on the can.

This morning, that's where I got the idea that perhaps, just maybe... the water pressure is too high. I never stopped to put two and two together, but there it is. And you know what? It's gonna work. I always get this feeling when I'm right.

That's why it always seems like I'm right, Gina, because I generally don't push if I'm not sure.

And yet, here I am, nervous like a school boy who might have written something particularly nasty about a teacher he was attracted to and not realized that she had just walked by (Kurt, if you're out there, you remember what I'm talking about).

I'm willing to cut a hole in a wall, jam my arm thru some fiberglass (which, I've discovered, I'm extremely allergic to) and re-pipe the bathroom, caution to the wind, "who cares about water damage"? But the idea of opening up my Xbox360, a $250 dollar item, has me in a cold sweat.

It's Alanis Morissette's definition of Ironic.

Distended Elation

I no longer want an iPod touch.

The lack of an "Add Event" to calendar feature just kills me.

Really, Apple, what the fuck?

Domestic Disturbance

At Jeremy's "Beat the Heat with Meat and Alcohol" shindig, I had a great time.

We had beer. And Hamburgers. And hot dogs.

Mrs. Gunz loves hot dogs.

When she asked me to get a hot dog, the last time, there were none on the grill. I asked Jeremy if there were anymore hot dogs, and he dutifully (as the host of the party) threw on some hot dogs. I set off to deliver the news. Her response?

"Are you back without a hot dog?"

These are My Confessions, Part 1

I still like listening to Mambo No. 5

This one is for Jeremy

The video embedded below contains adult content, poop references, and overall poor taste. However, when I saw it, I could not help but to think that this was Jeremy (Jerry, Jeremy, coincidence? I think not.) during his sophomore year of high school.

Not Safe for Work. Viewer Discretion is advised.



/Do you like to skateboard?

A Little Bit of Clarity

My brother-in-law has just completed his 15th annual "I'm not dead award" appearance, and with this year, he begins his first year of high school.

I've done more than my share of reminiscing lately, but it's such a trip to remember things, only because they're better than when they actually happened.

I was young, but I knew things. I figured out in middle school what Simon has now realized... a full 8 years before your average human being figures it out. It makes him miserable now, but he'll see. He'll understand one day that it is the path to enlightenment.

My wife stifled her own laughter as he realized his conclusion, which she repeated to me in confidence.

"I don't see the point of getting up in the morning. It's like, I get up, I go to school, I come home, I do homework, I sleep, I get up and go to school all over again. Then I'll go to college, and after college, I'll be at a job, and it's always the same thing."

See, my brother-in-law has got an easy life. As frugal as his parents are, he doesn't understand that supporting yourself these days means becoming a slave to the economy, and the only pleasure we can get out of not blowing our brains out and instead living our near automatic lives, is becoming a consumer and buying some really cool shit. Or for some of us, having lots of children.

So they can have cool shit.

Or you could live with your parents until you're 50 and they die. Whatever. Then you'd sound like this kid: