Math humor

California Adventureland

Road to nowhere.

Today we took the kiddos and Joshua's other brother up to L.A. county.  First, we walked the Venice Beach boardwalk.  The kids were sufficiently freaked out by the copious amounts of freaks and medicinal marijuana dispensaries.  They were, however,  impressed with the large and omnipresent murals and graffiti.

We then proceed further north, to visit the godmother.  That's right, Bay City Deli - home of the godmother - google it.  We bought some additional bread and cheese and meatballs and salad and chips and macaroni and cheese and drinks.  Not the cheapest lunch, but well worth it when we took our picnic to the Santa Monica Beach.  Ate al fresco and then the boys skim boarded for a bit.  A pod of frickin' dolphins swam buy.  It was a swimmingly 82 degrees in January.  It was Californiawesome.

Apocalypto

"Guess what guys, it's time to embrace the horror! Look, we've got front row tickets to the end of the earth!" - Rockhound, Armageddon

"A home run! The Cubs win the world series!" - Max, Armageddon

Not only was Armageddon and 2012 on the television tonight, but I just learned that Seth Rogen is directing a movie called (Seth and Jay vs.) The Apocalypse.  Seth, James Franco, Jonah Hill and a few others will face the End Times from the inside of Seth's L.A. apartment.  It's like as if my blog, was on drugs, and they made a movie out of it.

Also, I read a great quote from my urban and urbane niece:  If there was a movie about my life, it would be awesome.  True dat.

Because some things are meant to be digitalized

Happy Birthday Bro!

Career Day

Paging Dr. Jillian

12 Poem by Josh

When I was 5, I listened to rap.

Now I listen to Alternative.

When I was 5, I lived in Newport Beach.

Now I live in San Clemente.

When I was 5, I didn't have a phone.

Now I have an Iphone.

When I was 5, I played with Star Wars toys.

Now, I surf, skimboard, bodyboard, and chill.

When I was 5, I ate corn dogs.

Now I eat everything.

When I was 5, I was short compared to other children.

Now my height is about average.

When I was 5, I didn't like girls.

Now, I suppose I do.

When I was 5, I was a strange child.

Now I'm someone completely different.

Return of the Magnutron

Don't worry.  Everything is fine with Microwave Mel and his innards.  But, it is like Roseanne Roseannadanna said, "It just goes to show ya, it's always something."  The evil Magnutron has expanded its reach, spreading the contagion.  The electric hood over the cooktop has blown its lid.  The lights have gone out over the burners.  It's like we are cooking in the dark.  We can no longer have breakfast in the Enlightenment.

Anyway Voltaire, maybe it's not the Magnutron.  Maybe it's 2012.  Maybe it's the worst solar storm that we have had since way back in 2005.  Radiation has been spewing from the sun at 93 million miles per hour.  That's a lot of miles per hour.  And we haven't even gotten to the coronal mass ejection yet.  Whatever that is, it can't be a good thing.

Oh wait, the electrician has just told me that the dimmer switch needs to be replaced.  Like Gilda said, "Nevermind."

A Blog o' Lips

Top Famous Lips:

Megan Fox

Lauren Bacall

Elvis

Bridgette Bardot

Lisa Rinna

Mick Jagger

Sophia Loren

Mona Lisa 

Marilyn

Angelina

Honorable mentions:  George "Read my Lips" Bush, The Rocky Horror lips,  The Flaming Lips

恭喜发财

Happy Chinese New Year and welcome to the year of the Dragon.  You would think that such a legendary creature would be the most appropriate symbol for such an apocalyptic annum, but you would be inaccurately assuming.  The Dragon is a symbol of good fortune and sign of intense power, the Oriental Dragon is regarded as a divine beast - the reverse of the malicious monster that Westerners felt necessary to find and slay.  In Eastern philosophy, the Dragon is said to be a deliverer of good fortune and a master of authority. Therefore, those people born in Dragon years are to be honored and respected.  It is considered to be the most fortuitous of years in the Chinese Zodiac.  Let's hope those Chinese know what they're talking about - or else we are in for a fiery year.  I'm off to get a fortune cookie, and a fire extinguisher - just in case.

Seaside getaway

The Kook of Cardiff by the Sea

Bender:  Hey, how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up, it'll be anarchy. 


Today's adventure has been brought to us by North San Diego county.  Went for a flashback breakfast in Oceanside at the Breakfast Club.  Shared the Athenian omelette.  It was quite good.  Refrained from Leucadia Donuts.  We then drove further down the coast, where the Cubster enjoyed the relentless surf of Del Mar Doggy Beach.  A shower was then had by all.  

Neurons firing randomly

• The Wifey won another $17 playing the lotto.  We decided to take it in a lump sum.
• So, I saw The Descendants.  It was depressing, yet beautifully acted.  Hawaii should be nominated for best supporting actor.  
• Jilly sat for a gifted test today that was invitation only.
• I began tutoring/managing a Mathnasium.  America's future just got a little brighter.
• Josh made a parody project of the 10 Commandments for school.  Oy!
• Jilly's friend was making a comic about a ninja, but mispelled it ninju, and thus was born the story of the masked, kosher assassin.  
• Josh was roaming around downtown today...with two older girls.  Oy!
• The Wifey thinks the dog is lonely and needs a furry companion.  I said when Cubby wins the lottery, he can get a pet.

Genealogy Wednesday of the Future

Today, my daughter is a fountain pen

Who ya gonna call?

Home of the Brave by the Nails

Suit, by Nordstroms

Oh God of Hell
I said I love the suit
That the devil gave me
To wear to Beirut
Where the whores are dancing
On the table tops
And the juke box plays
Apocalyptic bebop

Well I love Paris
I love the dizzy streets
Where the flowers of sin
Bloom in the heat
If I were a ghost
I’d be pleased
Living among these
French mysteries

But the place to go’s
Another latitude
Where Jesus is wearing
His blue suede shoes
And the pink neon lights
Up the thoroughfares
Between what is
And what’s not there
You know the place
It’s not too far away
Let’s take a trip
To the Home of the Brave

Forget about London
Forget about Spain
Get out of New York
Take the Train to the Plane
Hong Kong smells like dying fish
And Berlin still stinks of Auschwitz
I wanna go where the wild things play
I wanna go to the Home of the Brave

Somebody meet me at the airport
At about half past ten
Tell Jose, Nikita and all the boys
Down in the bunker
Marc Campbell is coming home again

Life Stew

The simmering waves keep pounding, especially the roguish

Running in circles, counter-clockwise, as if I'm a Dervish

Birth and school and work and death all a mishmash

A soup of meat and veggies and noodles, like Hungarian goulash

Is it a soup or is it a stew?  It's both!

Cruisin' for a bruisin'

One crazy slide.  Escher would be impressed.

So, last week's Carnival Cruise Line's Costa Concordia, which is Italian for cruising to close to the coast,  ran aground off the coast of Italy.  It struck a boulder that's been there since the stone age.  After it was done rock'n and rolling, at least 11 people have died and some 24 are still missing. Now, that's nothing to treat lightly, but hey, this is only a blog post.  Nevertheless, I feel I can no longer call our previously calamitous trip aboard a Carnival ship The Cruise of Doom.  This disaster was way worse, although they got to go to Italy.

The behemoth boat was piloted by Captain Francesco Schettino, which is Italian for Frankly a Shitty Captain.  He didn't even stay with the boat as it was submerging.  It got me to thinking about how other famous captains would have responded:

• Cap'n Crunch - would have simply put a maze on the back of his box to help you find the missing passengers.
• Captain Kangaroo- with Mr Green Jeans and the use of the Magic Drawing Board, he would never had hit that rock.
• Captain and Tennille - never would have abandoned their passengers because "Love will keep us together".
• Captain Underpants - would have saved the day, until he got wet and turned back into the evil Principal Benny Krupp.
• Captain America - didn't really have any super powers, but you know he would have rescued everyone, for America!
• Captain Morgan - well, that's probably what led to the ship getting wasted in the first place.

Sign of the Apocalypse

There's a box of Twinkies in that grocery store. Not just any box of Twinkies, the last box of Twinkies that anyone will enjoy in the whole universe. Believe it or not, Twinkies have an expiration date. Some day very soon, Life's little Twinkie gauge is gonna go... empty... Where are you, you spongy, yellow, delicious bastards? - Tallahassee in Zombieland

The other day, I had mentioned that Hostess Brands, the makers of Wonder Bread, Sno Balls and Twinkies, was filing bankruptcy.   Now in my opinion, Wonder Bread is only wonderful for its multi-colored bag ties, which represent the day of the week the loaf was baked.  And Sno Balls were always to coconut-ty for my tastes (more the texture than the flavor).  It was the Twinkies of my youth, those golden sponge cakes with creamy filling, that built this body.  Thank you Mom for packing my brown bags.  And thank you Dr. Oz, for not having a show back then.


Sure, there were alternative sugary, baked snacks.  Ho-ho's were quite enjoyable to unravel.  And if you peeled the chocolate icing off of a Ding Dong, you had a spongy, yet cream filled, Ding Dong without the icing.  Oh, and a crumb cake was a rare delicacy.  Not to mention Dunkin' Donuts or Entemann's, but that's an entirely different blog post.  


Twinkies were born in 1930, in Schiller Park, IL.  Cream filled strawberry shortcake (see Folkslore post) machines would sit by idly when strawberries were out of season.  Twinkies filled the vacuum, just like they filled the void in my gastro-intestinal system and in the American psyche.


The 2009 movie Zombieland foretold of the coming (maybe) apocalypse.  It is basically a road movie, but one where you have to avoid the flesh eating Zombies.  The only thing that keeps the protagonists sane on their journey, is the quest for the rare and elusive Twinkies.  For they fear, when all of the Twinkies run out, civilization and all that is worth living for will cease to exist.  With Hostess going kaput and the future of Twinkies in jeopardy, are we a step closer to the end times?


Now, down Mexico way, Twinkies are called Los Submarinos.  It is highly doubtful that the Mayans ever experienced the delicioso Los Submarinos.  For if they had, they never would have called for the world to end - at least not until after snack time.

Genealogy Wednesday

I knew that all my years of hard work, researching the family tree, finally paid off when I saw that my brother reached out, on the internets, to our third cousin. When I asked my bro wassup wit dat, he replied, "Looking for a place to stay when I visit Israel." Mazel to that.

Random neurons firing

• Josh is obsessed with Minecraft.  It's kind of like legos, but for the computer.  And instead of digging through the giant bin of legos, you have to mine stuff.  And, oh yeah, there's Creepers.  Hide yo wife, hide yo kids.
• I have become obsessed with Castleville on facebook, another addictive game brought to you by Zynga (remember the Mafia?)
• Took the kindelah out to Pizza Port last night - for beer buddies (which contain no beer ) and pizza (meh)
• Kids have a 3 day weekend with not a whole lot to do.  Jilly and I may go to a screening of Mirror, Mirror tomorrow.  Looks cute.
• The Wifey won $100 playing the lottery.  Good things coming...

Friggatriskaidekaphobia

Beware the Ides of March, sure; but have no fear that Friday the 13th is here (there will be 3 such days during this apocalyptic year).  It's a relatively new superstition.  And in fact, in Spanish speaking countries, one would be wary of Tuesday the 13ths.   Our un-holiday was popularized by a 1907 Thomas Lawson book that told of a stock market panic on a similar day.  The superstition is actually a combination of a fear of Friday's (Frigga was a Norse god of marriage of whom Friday was named after; the Crucification was held on a Friday) and a fear of 13 (such a number of diners at a single table would lead to the death of one, according to The Last Supper and a similar Norse myth involving Loki and a mistletoe spear).  But, we have come to be thankful for Friday's (and their yummy Mexican pizza) and yours truly was born on a 13th, albeit a Tuesday (and thankfully, not in a Spanish speaking country)...so, how bad could it be.

Phlebotomist wanted

Slow goes the search for new occupational endeavors.  Trying to remain open and optimistic, but the economic climate (even Twinkies are going bankrupt) and my challenging resume (not working for the Man) are proving to be frustrating.  Plus, I don't know what I want to do when I grow up.  Actually, I would have liked the Cubs' general manager position, but alas, it's been filled.  And the thing is, I'm not even money motivated (well, not totally).  I would just like to find something interesting and fulfilling.  If only Potbelly's was opening up out here...cause that's interesting and very filling.  Mmm.

Anyway, some of the exotic jobs that I have entertained include:  trying another go at the Apple store, PIMCO for the millionth time, Ralph's supermarket, nanny, basically volunteering for the Surfrider Foundation (save the oceans), several financial analyst positions, tutoring, various call centers (kill me now), reservations butler at the St. Regis, Rainbow sandals salesman, etc.  At least it's been educational:  I have learned that a phlebotomist is someone who draws blood.

Kids say the darndest things:

Josh:  Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.  So true.

Jilly:  I'm going to make a house out of meat:  steak walls, ribs roof and bacon driveway.  Mmm, bacon.

Folkslore

It's the lake, stupid...

Now kids, here's a story that I have likely told you in the past.  It is a story my Dad (your Poppa) used to tell to me and my brothers (your uncles).  Perhaps it's a story that was told to Poppa Bruce by his father, perhaps not.  Anyway, it's the story of a lake.  Not any lake, mind you, but a magical lake.  And what magical powers did this lake behold, you ask?  Unseen riches?  Horrendous sea serpents?  Republicans?  No, none of these abominations.  It was a magical lake because no matter where we were driving and no matter how far, if we happened to pass a lake, we heard the story of the lake...the story of Lake Stupid.

Now kids, this story takes place back in the olden days - before wi-fi.  Back when Native Americans (what we called Indians) roamed these plains.  Back then, Lake Stupid was a big lake, but not that big that you couldn't see across to the other side.  And on each of these sides, lived two distinct tribes of Indians - the Itchamynee and the Stubayatow.

It came to pass that on one side of the watery body, their lived a young Indian warrior, or brave.  His name was Shortcake.  Now, Shortcake was minding his own business, training with the other braves when he noticed a beautiful, young Indian girl (or squaw) on the other side of the vast lake.  And she noticed him.  It was love at first sight.  They stole glances whenever they passed the lake.  They sent each other smoke signals (kind of like texts).  They did elaborate dances, longing to be together.

Finally, they couldn't bear to be apart any longer.  Our brave, young Brave decided to go after the pretty Squaw.  He set out to swim across the not-so-great lake.  And he swam.  And he swam.  He just kept on swimming.  Progress was slow and tiresome.  Each stroke was getting harder.  But, he kept swimming.  Stroke after struggling stroke.  Shortcake was exactly halfway across the lake.  Halfway to finally joining his Indian soulmate.  Right in the dead middle of the stupid lake. Alas, he was too exhausted.  So, he turned back and swam home.

And that's the story of Lake Stupid.  Now, don't worry kids.  Shortcake and the Squaw eventually got together.  But, that's another story -- a tragic, terribly sad, sad (but short) story.  Because soon after they united, the young Brave died, and Squaw buried Shortcake.

Endless Summer

Waves on steroids

The Three Skimmerdudes

Even Cubby got in on the action

OK, maybe it wasn't exactly like summer

Random thoughts de Sudamerica

• There is a song that tends to follow me and the wifey around,  no matter where we go - restaurants, the Dominican Republic, el bano:  The Girl from Ipanema.   It is a Brazilian (my number one wishful destination - I wanna be a Brazilionaire) song, so in Portugese (Go Cubby!), it is Garota de Ipanema.  It was originally titled Menina que Passa, or The Girl Who Passes By, which is far better than their other consideration:  The Girl Who Passes Wind.  Strangely for a locale noted for their comely beauties, the song was written for a musical comedy titled Dirigivel or The Blimp.  The song, not the musical, won the grammy for record of the year in 1965, one year prior to my birth (when another exotic sounding song won - A Taste of Honey by Herb Albert).  
• Speaking of south of the border (no, not Taco Bell - which sounds yummy, even though a new Chipotle just opened up by us - which also sounds yummy), my eldest is reading The Adventurers by Harold Robbins.  Dios Mio!!!
• And just for the record, my yeldest youngest is reading Tales of a 4th Grade Nothing by Judy Blume.  And that's as advanced in Judy Blume she gets.
• I'm reading Lost in Shangri-La, which sounds like a nice place to be - except for the plane crash and the cannibals.  
• Just booked a mini-trip to Scottsdale in the spring to see the P's and break flatbread with the Indiana Brother.  Looking forward to it, even if it's not Ipanema.

Withdrawals

"You mean just stop? Cold turkey? You don't understand! The pain..." 

- Frankie Machine (Sinatra), The Man With the Golden Arm by Nelson Algren

Augggh!!!  The pain.  I finally admitted that I had a problem - not making money.  So, I quit cold turkey.  It has been over 3 weeks since I made my last trade.  And I'm going through extreme withdrawals.  I turn on CNBC first thing in the morning.  I check my stocks on the internet.  I follow random traders' tweets.  I am jonesing to make a trade.  I miss the guys in the office, the thrill of letting a winner run, the mental challenge of constant decisions.  I miss the action.  Really, I think I miss the good ol' days of being in the pit on an earnings day, printing money.  I don't miss the stress, the deep self-examination of my psychological short-comings, and most of all, the losing trades.  Even though, in the end, I found it too difficult to compete with the super-computers located within micro-seconds of exchange servers, I relished the experience.  I became more patient, more analytical, more one with the market (yeah, the one losing money).  But, what doesn't kill ya (although, maybe taking a few years off my life expectancy), makes you stronger.  Stronger, but poorer.  I kid.  Poorer, but richer for the life experience. 

Get Back in there and sell Mortimer!

Don't play tag with waves

While strolling through the park one day

In the merry merry month of May

I was taken by surprise

By a pair of roguish eyes

In a moment my poor heart was stole away

In actuality, it wasn't a park.  It was the beach.  And it wasn't May on my mind, but instead, those stupid, ancient Mayans (couldn't even predict their own demise!).  And it wasn't roguish eyes, which would have been nice, but rogue waves that were crashing through the chasms of my mind.

In fact, I have been to the beach every day this year.  Let's see how long that streak can last.  Anyway, I was down Aliso way, watching the progeny skim the sea like it subsided for his own satisfaction.  I came across a sign warning of tsunami hazard.  This really made me appreciate living in California, the all-action/all-the-time state.  If the apocalypse is encroaching, then we could get hit by tsunamis, earthquakes, nuclear fallout from nearby SanO, or all of the above. Like Gomez sings, I've got options...I like to be surprised by my End Times.  

Even so, heed this reminder:  Don't play tag with waves.  And NEVER turn your back on waves.  They think it's rude, even if they are rogue.

Top 11 (or so) of '11

Songs:

1. Little Lion Man - Mumford and Sons
2. Pumped Up Kicks - Foster the People
3. Got It All - Portugal the Man
4. Losers - Belle Brigade
5. Colours - Grouplove
6. Trojans - Atlas Genius
7. My Body - Young the Giant
8. Punching in a Dream - Naked and Famous
9. Go Outside - Cults
10. U Wanna Freak - My Morning Jacket
11. Junk of the Heart - Kooks

Josh's fav:  Swimming in the Flood - Passion Pit

Jilly's:  Colours

Books (I read):

1. Unbroken
2. Not Me
3. Ready Player One
4. Art of Fielding
5. Water for Elephants
6. Big Short
7. Object of Beauty
8. Siddhartha (re-read)

Josh:  Saltwater Buddha

Jill:  Dork Diaries

Movies:

1. Midnight in Paris
2. Crazy, Stupid Love
3. Moneyball
4. Muppets
5. King's Speech
6. 50/50
7. Ides of March
8. Lincoln Lawyer
9. Change-up
10. Our Idiot Brother
11. Horrible Bosses

Josh:  Harry Potter

Jill:  Tin Tin

TV:

1. Community
2. Friday Night Lights
3. Happy Endings
4. 30 Rock
5. The League
6. Rescue Me
7. Once Upon a Time
8. Terra Nova
9. New Girl
10. Modern Family
11. SNL

Josh:  That 70's Show

Jill:  Adventure Time

Vegas Recap

Who's the big winner?

Comped at the Cosmo.  If you have the means.... Picked up Jilly in Carlsbad, after her rib extravaganza sleepover with Emma.  Stopped 5 minutes into the trip for Sonic.  Check-in.  Chillaxed.  Took the kiddos to Flip-n-out, a trampoline place that Jilly dug, but Josh not so much.  Drove downtown Vegas (old school).  Saw the Fremont Experience, although we left before the Fremont Experience.  Tried Tony Roma's (per Jilly's request, but surprisingly, the wait was too long...so pizza on the street).  Dropped the kids in the room and kicked it at craps.  Late night sushi snack with the wifey.

Day2: buffet of buffets!  Took the kiddos bowling (if you could call it that) at South Point.  Dropped the kids in a movie (Chipwrecked).  Kicked it at poker.  Dinner quest led to Holsteins (fancy burgers and shakes -- yummy, fun).  Dropped the kids in the room.  Mas craps.

Day3:  more buffet and hit the road.  Free trip and too much food and fun.  Viva!

It's the End of the World....

Tell me with the rapture and the
reverent in the right - right. You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright
light, feeling pretty psyched.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.
- REM

....as we know it.  I'm back Bloggy Babies.  Welcome to the End Times...well, the end of 2011, anyway.  Took a few blogging days off to recharge and close-out that odd, crooked year with a bang.  2011 good riddance to ya.  Can't complain to much though...it was a happy and healthy (though highly stressful) year.  The wifey took on a great new job that she seems to be diggin'.  Josh turned into quite the beachcomber, social butterfly, and academic.  Jilly impressed with her budding volleyball skills, mature presence and inner beauty.  Me, well, I had fun but need to get cracking.  Sold the money pit condo.  Some festive trips were had:  Vegas, Arizona, Cabo, San Fran, Cabo, Mammoth, and Vegas.  On a sad note, we had to say goodbye to the Jag and the ol' Lexus.  On a really sad note, we had to say goodbye to Fozzie.  He truly had a great, love-filled doggy life.

Anyway, high hopes for 2012:  Prove the Mayan's wrong.  We resume the job search.  Watch the Olympics.  Prepare for Josh's BM.  Re-elect el presidente.  Finish up the 6th and 3rd grades with gusto.  Solve global warming.  Stay healthy.  Win the lottery.  See family.  Follow the chronicles of Cubby.  Pray for the Flubbies.  And put some fresh, creative energy into the ol' blog.  That is, if the world doesn't end first.