Professor Snoutchlove

Or:  How I learned to stop worrying and love the iPhone.

My contract was up at the end of January, so I started shopping for a smart phone as looking up "Next Bus" on a RAZR can be a MOST frustrating exercise.  For years, I had made the proclamation that I was not going to give Steve Jobs a damn dime.  It wasn't that Apple's products were inferior (although I am much more comfortable in a Windows environment), it's just that Apple Fanboys have such a negative stereotype (often well earned) that I was not in a hurry to join their ranks.  I saw El Stevo unveil the original iPhone via Engadget and the look on his face made me want to put my foot through my monitor.  As I think about it now, I'm reminded of the South Park "SMUG " episode.  It was at that moment, viewing him extol the virtues of his Jesus Phone that I became convinced that Steve Jobs indeed enjoys the smell of his own farts.

A year after its initial unveiling, the 3G version came out.  Quite a few of my friends come to me for techie advice (my farts are quite lovely) and kept asking for "permission" to finally get an iPhone.  Once it dropped down to $300 for the 16gb and $200 for the 8gb, I released the hounds.  I personally bought one for my Brother for his birthday last year and he still raves about the damn thing.  Recently my friend Jon left Sprint (along with 1.3 Million others) and joined ATTso he could get an iPhone.  His Fanboy ridiculousness got to the point where every few minutesStarshine and/or I would receive either a text or an email from him loving on his iPhone.  I had just sat down to dinner and got a text from him that said that it does everything, that it "...practically masturbates for you..."  

So Fanboy fawning had grown to a point where, even jokingly, a smooth and shiny device could replace Rosie Palm and her five sisters.  Beyond annoyed, I wrote the following response (parts redacted for clarity):

Hi Jon - 

Just spending some quality time at home and made myself steak and mac & cheese (the full extent of my cooking repertoire can be found on my wiki page that doesn't exist)....I stopped in the middle of my succulent feast, paused the T.V. and wondered aloud:  "I wonder if Jon likes his iPhone?"

I mean, you could reach out and send pics and emails and call people and tell them about it...jeez.  What I think I really want to know is...does it practically masturbate for you?  What kind of bluetooth attachment/App store download does that require?  Can you switch tracks if it's up your butt?  Is there some sort of clench and pivot version of the bend.........and snap(!) that will adjust the volume?  You realize what this means, of course?  

Now, to the fear of Mothers everywhere, instead of five-knuckle chuckling simply making you go blind, doing so while undulating to the docile tones of "L'il Wayne" at full volume will cause you to go deaf as well, creating a shame bifecta.

My upgrade period is in January, and now that you've had a week to use it, I'm curious to know what you think?  What are it's primary weaknesses?

Ok, when you get a chance, hit me up.  Make sure your signature says "sent from my iPhone" so I know, ok?

Jason

As you can tell, my relationship with Jon is strong enough to survive me being a snarky asshole.  He had it coming though, he'll be the first to admit.  I had to fight back with all of my sarcasm powers.  It worked for like, 5 minutes.

So, my two-year contract period up, my tax return in hand, I started doing some smartphone shopping.  I wanted a device with a decent camera more than anything with a flash.  After scouring CNet and knowing I was going to stick with ATT, it very quickly came down to a grudge match between the iPhone (even though its camera doesn't have a flash) and the HTC FUZE.  I went to the ATT store, held both in my hand, played around with buttons.  Compared & contrasted.  Pros & Cons.  Changed my mind 3 and 4 times (thanks O.C.D.!!!!)  Then I got blindsided:  ATT had refurbed 8gb 3G iPhones for $99!  The HTC FUZE is $299 (and that's after a $50 rebate).  That almost cinched it for me.  It wasn't so much about the money as it was about the device, and holding fast to my anti-Apple ideals.  Then I saw the ad that features the "level" application.  Upon the realization that some enterprising designer/programmer thought it would be a good idea to use the iPhone's accelerometer to create a level made me throw up my hands, resigned that they'd finally got me.  I could O.C.D. my ass off forever with that, I thought.  

     "All right!  I'll buy a stupid, fucking iPhone!" As I yelled at the commercial, I died a little inside.

On Monday I received my precious (yeah, I mean it like Gollum) and had it up an running in like 30 minutes.  So far, I'm a fan.  No flash is a bummer, but the actual picture quality is really good when compared thecraptacular RAZR:

More than anything, I really like having a real web browser.  I can't imagine the mobile web ever coming close to what a real web browser delivers.  Multi-touch zooming is pretty cool too.  The first application I downloaded was the level (of course), just on general principle.  I thought it appropriate that it go on record as "FIRST!" since it got me to actually yell at my T.V. (which I hadn't done since Ellen Tigh was revealed as the 5th Cylon).

Oh well.

Prof.

Tivotime

Ok, I finally think I've got it. As an early adopter of electronic gadgetry and such, I've been privy to a growing new social malady that's now catching up to the rest of the world.

Pompous preface proclaimed, I can continue. Like many of you, I spend very little time watching TV shows at their original time or even on their original broadcast date. I watch it when IIIIIIIIIIII want to, and now that we've got services like orb, I'm not just time-shifting, I'm place-shifting. That concept is a difficult one to wrap your head around if you're not a remote toting electronista rebel, deeply ensconced in the urban jungle...I WILL TOUCH THAT DIAL...I WILL GO AWAY...I WILL NOT STAY TUNED, so quit telling me to, Dammit.

So case in point, I get called or texmexed about Idol on Tuesday night around 8:23pm "OMG did you see that?" And I realize it's once again time for the Prof. to introduce a new word into the American Popular Lexicon.

Much like "Machosexual" (which has taken the world by storm by the way...in my mind), you can now hold your hands to your ears or texmex the person back with "...ah datdatdat....I'm on TivoTime". They will now know that you have reality-shifted yourself into a virtual limbo and that you'll hit them back once you've actually seen whatever the hell it is they were talking about. It works for the big sporting matches too (I would guess...that's obviously a theory), like if you're stuck at a bat mitzvah while the Lakers are dribbling or 3peating or triple-doubling down or whatever.

Even though some use their Cable/Satellite Company's DVR, Window Media Center, ReplayTV, SageTV, or god-forbid, actual Tivo, we must admit to ourselves that Tivo has now been officially inducted into the q-tip/xerox/playdoh/google/kleenex/bandaid/jello/jacuzzi/velcro/frisbee/white-out brand-awareness conclave hall of fame and it's well-deserved. Yeah, it's a working title. Need to think of a new word for that too. Hmmm.

So the next time you get rushed in the morning about last night's Dancing with the D-list Stars, or 30 Crackrock, don't get mad - just gently let them know you're on Tivotime, and they'll immediately cease any banter so as not to spoil your skewed reality.

Now we just have to think of word that easily lets people know that not only have you not yet watched the show, but you've no intention of EVER letting whatever it is clog up valuable space on your machine because you just simply don't like that particular program. How about "shut up?" No, too mean. How about: "I could give a shit"?; "I could give two shits"?; "I couldn't give a shit"?; or (of course) "I couldn't give two shits"?

Sidebar: All 4 of those sentences are used all the time, yet grammatically the first two directly contradict the last two but they mean the exact same thing (to rising degrees, granted, but still). Hmmmm. Well, at least I have a new word to think of right? It's especially harrowing (altogether: "Slow day at work, Professor???") to discover that the natural progression of sentences above (a la SAT studying nightmares) would be "I could give three shits" and then "I couldn't give three shits", right? But we've NEVER said that. Ever. It sounds absurd actually. I wonder what stopped us at two shits? Did someone think 'You know two shits are enough to give/not give...three would just be silly'?

Prof.

Gopher Moat (from Scott H.)

25th Century/25 Shmentury

Jaybuck Rogers

Hot off the heels of being dumped by Colonel Wilma Dearing...our intrepid Hero, out of time and new on the market, hits up the super massive black HOledown Party.

Struttin his stuff after a nip or 8 of the fabulous Tranya punch, the Captain spots his prey, and moves in:

Getting out his zapper and stunning the cunning young minx, he rolls on up the voluptuous creature. Needless to say, they hit it off talked well into the night:

Yeah, she's a little intense, but at least she has a sense of humor...Wilma was just such a ditz!

Love,

Jaybuck Rogers

Same fabulous dancing/WWWAAAYYY Better music!

Testing out

Remember in school when you could get out of a class by proving you already knew the material?

It was called "Testing Out".

I'm convinced that we don't use this concept enough in our everyday lives and I for one would like to see it implemented immediately.

Case in point:

If you travel as frequently as I do, you probably have the same aversion towards the modern-day, post 9/11 nightmare that is flying. There's the need to get there 2 hours early to accommodate for complete moron flyers combined with surly and slow check-in workers. There's the mental and physical depantsing that is security. There's the cattle call, hurry up and wait boarding procedure. The sardine tin accommodations. And of course, "The Speech".

Hey guess what? I KNOW that my nearest exit may be behind me. And quel suprise, I know how to buckle a fucking seatbelt. To be quite frank, I don't think the unlikely event of a water landing will have people thanking God that their seat cushion is also a floatation device. You know why? Because in the unlikely event that you're still somehow sucking in oxygen, treading water while the plane careens to the bottom of the depths, you're probably going to grab on to anything floating including the fucking seat cushions, right? And I swear to God, if the oxygen masks fall out of the overhead compartment, I'm pretty sure I'll either figure it out or pass out, but either way, I'll still FREAK OUT, so why put that little gem and all the other nihilistic nuggets in my head EVERY fucking time I fly? Hmmmm? Thanks guys, wasn't feeling anxious at all until you pointed out all the horrible fates possible. Fabulous! Now, I'm tired, hot/cold, smooshed and able to visualize my own demise. Bravo.

You may say: "Well, Professor Snoutch, perhaps it's because someone on the plane may be enjoying their maiden voyage." Not likely!

I know the FAA/TSA/Gubment/Homeland Security or whoever knows enough about the passenger manifest to be able to tell relatively quickly if it's someone's first flight on an airplane. If every passenger's history shows record of a previous flight, then we should be able to "Test Out" and remove at least one annoying component from the melange, right? It should become so rare that on the few occasions that it does happen, it will be more of a novelty than a plodding, barely understandable, droning recitation. I know I've wrote about this before, so forgive me if I sound like a rambling, bitter, Alzheimer's-ridden old man, but too bad. It bears repeating.

And don't even get me started on roller coasters. "Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times". No shit? When is that not true of ANY vehicle, much less one that goes upsidefuckingdown? I mean besides when a convertible is a Drag Queen's chariot in a Gay Pride Parade? I tell you what, if someone's so stupid that they don't know they should keep their limbs out of the way of the steel beams or they'll get ripped off, then they shouldn't be on the damn thing. People put their hands up anyway at the top of a big hill on a roller coaster, so why bother saying don't? It's in the damn commercials for the theme parks! Freakin' hypocrites. TEST OUT.

Can anybody else think of other things we should never have to listen to again? I think I'll start "Testout.org" and start lobbying Washington to stop this endless audio and visual torture. Who's with me?

*end rant*

In other, way less bitchy news, here's a clip of my Brother throwing down. Check it out, it's amazing. Totally SFW, so no worries. There is audio though, so if that's an issue, turn down your speakers first.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.showvids&friendID=76655303&n=76655303&MyToken=33dc

Peace, love and joy.

Prof.

SnuzNLuz - Wifi Donation Alarm Clock, Enemy Aware

For years the masses have told you that if you snooze you lose. You never believed them. You held your head high and slept in whenever you wanted to, always without fear of loss. Well, dear friends, the times have changed. The ingenious sages at ThinkGeek Labs(TM) have finally created the Ultimate weapon against snoozing - the SnuzNLuz(TM). People who enjoy sleeping in are cowering in fear all across the globe - it's finally true, when you snooze, you lose! The principle is simple. The SnuzNLuz securely connects via WiFi to your online bank account, and donates YOUR real money to an organization you HATE when you decide to snooze! Are you a music pirate? Then set your SnuzNLuz to donate to the RIAA every time you snooze and we guarantee you'll never sleep in again! Oh the time profit... http://www.thinkgeek.com/stuff/41/snuznluz.shtml

I think I'll set mine to make a donation to Big Tobacco, considering I slipped and fell all the way, totally and completely off the non-smoking bandwagon this weekend. Before you reply, know that I already picked myself up, dusted myself off and started all over again. I'm not counting days anymore though, starting from "1" seems so defeatist, and continuing from where I was at (Day 57 or something) seems like cheating. You're never done quitting. It's one day at a time. Today's a good day.

Prof.

Days 44-47 / Saint Patty's Day Blackout Episode

So I went to the gym like usual on Friday (44) and when I got home, I did something unthinkable. So unfathomable that I don't know if it's appropriate to mention here. I will, in good faith, press on, because good or bad the truth needs to be told.

On Friday of last week, I did nothing.

*Gasp* *horror* *shock*

Being that the Irish half of me knew on an instinctual level that I'd get snot-slingin' drunk the following day, I am willing to cut myself a break.

Saturday: Woke up, made breakfast, went to the gym and then ran 5 miles. Puttered around the house a bit, and then started to get ready. On my way to meet up with friends at Josh's, I stopped at the liquor store and (wait for it) bought a $50 bottle of

scccccooooooottttttttccccccchhhhhhhh

Called "The Balvenie". You can get it cheaper at Trader Joes, but whatev. It's peaty and it's deadly, and it's good, chile, it's goooood.

I sauntered down the street like I owned it, cradling the bottle in my arm like a precious newborn. Valencia was abuzz with pre-evening fervor. Preparations for fun being made, makeup hadn't run yet, no yelling, it was the proverbial calm before the storm.

I made it to the launchpad, and cracked open the bottle.

Some had it neat
One had it with water
Others with rocks, but
it really doesn't matter

We toasted to breezes
and sure, to the treeses
paying homage to the wind
that blew up the girls kneeses

And off into the waiting world we did traipse
hooligans rollicking, world trembling in our wake

Rolling 7 or 8 deep when we hit the first bar, and I remembered my light lunch, lighter dinner, heavy workout regime, friends greeting me, saying hello or goodbye and some fuzzy points in between and then....another bar, and then back to the first one, and then a cab ride and then another bar, and another, and another, and then...

And then.....

And then???

Blackout!

_____________________________________________________

I recovered by sweating it out the next morning and going pure. For about a second.

The hair of the dog that bites me has a jeri-curl.

Discuss.

I'm on day 47.

Prof.