10 minutes outside of Hagerstown, the Twitter page for the Hagerstown Suns finally breaks the news that the game I was going to go to was postponed until tomorrow. The bad news is that I wasted a trip out to Hagersfuck for absolutely nothing, except maybe some fried brownie bites. The good news is that my tickets are still good for tomorrow for a double header. The bad news is that if I want to watch baseball tomorrow, I have to make another trip out to Hagersfuck. I’d rather not spend hours of awkward silence with my dad again, and I’m actually debating on going up there on my own, and eating the cost of the second ticket for my own sanity. Anyone out there left in this area want to go blown an afternoon watching me a baseball nerd in Hagersfuck, Maryland?
Day: April 16, 2011
Is it really that difficult
Three times out of four, whenever someone asks me to look at their computer, because there’s something that feels wrong, one of the first things I notice is that their virus protection is out of date, and/or there are critical Windows updates that have gone completely neglected, many of which involve important listed security updates.
Two times out of two, when it pertains to my parents, the neglect has gone way too long, and both machines are plagued with viruses, and/or rootkits that have run so rampant, that they’re pretty much doing their usual pain-in-the-ass job and preventing any scans from running, let alone detecting them.
At the rate things are going now, the game I want to go see tonight will be canceled by rain, the Braves will lose both games to the Mets, I’ll have a hellacious time trying to get back to Atlanta, and my new car will have a window smashed, doors keyed, be on blocks, and radio ripped out.
Talk about a buzzkill
Ain’t nothing like waking up to the sounds of your parents fighting. I don’t care what anyone says, you’re never too old to not be bothered by this kind of bullshit.
Man, and I was having a hilariously nerdy Family Guy dream. Peter Griffin was picking lottery numbers, and wanted to cheat and create his own lottery balls rigged to have his pick of numbers. When Joe and Bonnie appeared in the dream, it turned disturbingly sexual, when Bonnie exclaimed that her ass could create the numbered balls. After the initial sexual innuendos and double and triple entendres, it ended with an awkward silence, and then Joe saying “no seriously, Peter. Stick the balls up Bonnie’s butt.” After Peter resisted, Joe did his usual flip out of “STICK THE BALLS UP BONNIE’S ASS!!!”
Only having one ping pong ball, Peter proceeded to stick it up Bonnie’s ass. After some awkward noises, Bonnie popped the ball back out. Printed on the ball was “116.” And then Peter right clicked the ball and clicked on view source. It was all ASP. And for some reason, it required 22 lines of code to print the number 116 onto a ping pong ball. Joe, Peter, and I laughed, Bonnie facepalmed with her typical Jennifer Tilly voice, and Peter said “betcha can’t wait to do THAT six more times, Bonnie!”
Laughs ensued. And then I woke up. 5 cents or 5 dollars. Either way, this trip is already not worth it.