opinion: rants & raves

Oh...I thought you were putting the hand to bed.
after all, it's been a helluva lot more than
700 days or whatever it was originally called.
and here I was feeling all rejuvenated and all.

I have 2 rants:

idiot students who come to the final
wondering if they can make up that
first exam they missed. well,
at least they remembered.

and the wilmer-hutchins debacle.
they decided to close the w-h arts
magnet school for mathematical
reasons only. seems it costs
$7,ooo a year for your grunt
student at one of your every
day grunt school but over $20 Gs
to educate budding artists.

so, hey, bye bye artists, those
useless artists must go.

interview with dancing student,
"if it hadnt been for my school,
I probably would have been out on
the street doing crack with all
those other kids who dont have
a life like I do...did."

i was thinking we'd keep posting our personal stuff on the other blog, and save this one for reviews, opinions, rambles, righteous indignation, slander, venting, bitching...and lots and lots of love.

first bitch, i'll be fucked. you have to put html tags in if you want a paragraph break? this must be something i'm not figuring out properly. because BLOGGER ROCKS. yeh.

it's problematic for me because this computer chop shop, COMPUTRONICS ON WILSHIRE, that's right, in WEST LA, fucked up my keyboard situation and now every time i type using the shift key i get parallel lines and slashes. and i haven't been able to get it fixed yet. and i'm not taking it back there. never. ever. ever again.

i'll post soon to the other blog. kentucky was nightmarish. thank god i didn't have kids. holy shit. they're cute and all, but more than two days of them and your brain just turns to mush. one more game of catch and i would have gone into convulsions.

pure and holy boredom. i'm glad someone wants to have them, because if it were up to people like us, it would be the end of time.

Birthday Boy...checking in.

long birthday weekend. kristen made the most amazing chocolate mouse cake ever.

big rotten rubber band reunion party last night. folks I havent seen in 2-3 years, including all the rotten rubber women and all but one of the musicians from years of party gigs. beer after beer and thai catered. which was weird cause we ate at mai's on the way to the party. it's one of those holiday parties to remember the holidays by. wonderful time.

oh, but wait...that's not very rantish or ravish. I'm glad you decided to get a fresh start here on the old blog ur booty. thanks for the invite. I have more to say, but I also need to shower and catch up with the kitty. she's needin what I got.

when do you go to canada?

just heard the story of being lost in phone company hell for ten months, told by a radio producer who finally had to take the show live on national radio to get the problem solved. It's the second half of the show and lasts about half an hour.

This American Life is turning out, along with its usual cutesy stories, some of the best radio journalism there's ever been. For the past two years or so, it's been completely amazing at times.

I can't seem to link directly to the show, but go to the website, find the archive page, and find the show which aired December 3, 2004, and is titled 'The Middle of Nowhere." Remember, the story is the second half of the show. It's titled: On hold, no one can hear you scream.

If you're in the mood for a little righteous customer triumph, it goes down like buttahscotch schnapps.

because we love to see our own opinions in print? Because revenge feels good when someone's dicked you over? Because there are good guys out there who don't get enough press? Whatever. The truth is, an infuriating experience with a computer shop actually inspired this. Before I took my laptop there, I did a google search to see if I could find any dirt on them. I was in a hurry, needed the work done, and the shop has a full-page ad in the yellow pages and a big huge storefront on Wilshire. I figured they had to be competent.

Well, I figured wrong. And I thought: someone ought to know.

We're at the mercy of chop shops everywhere, when it comes to anything requiring expert diagnosis or repair. Doctors, auto mechanics, you name it....$$$$ out the window and there was no way to tell you trusted the wrong person.

Meanwhile, how do you find the right person (or company)?

I'm gonna name names. I'll assume Artie will do the same. We're no experts on anything, just consumers like everyone else. Susceptible schmucks whose experience might benefit someone down the road. Or not.

And while we're at it, there'll be heapin' helpings of love for the underrated heroes who fly below the radar. Because they need it. And deserve it. I O H O.

My review of the computer chop shop is coming soon, after I take a long, deep breath.