Peru is awesome

Okay, so I knew Peru was going to be fun, but so far it has completely decimated my previous definition of fun and replaced it with a more extreme, exciting, and shiny version of fun.

Pros:

• CRAZY CABLE CAR! We crossed a class 5 river in a ricketty basket on a cable by pulling ourselves along with ropes. We were told by the trek company that we wouldn´t be doing this because I guess people die on it (not that surprised), but our trek guide, Juan Carlos, was THE BEST.
  
• 4 hours of (mostly) downhill mountain biking in the pouring rain.
• Hiking up to Maccu Picchu, hiking up the mountain next to Maccu Picchu to get an ariel view, and then hiking down the back-side to visit some totally off-the-radar ruins in the jungle.
• I broke every rule at Maccu Picchu except the No Smoking rule.
  
• There was this one bathroom that had a lightswitch with exposed wires in the shower!
• Groundscore mangos, avocados, and tangerines.
• WE SAW A LITTLE MONKEY IN A BUSH!
• Way too much other awesome stuff to tell now without pictures (no SD reader at this computer).
• Also, internet is about $.30/hour. ¡Awesome!
• Also, check out all of these awesome characters on this keyboard: ñ窿¬º. They are where I expect other buttons to be. It is fun.
  

Cons:

• Hundreds and hundreds of bug bites.
• I totally messed up my knee in the jungle, and then hiked for about 10 hours on a wonky knee yesterday, and now can barely walk. One of our new friends has some codeine, though, so that should be awesome.

Sara and I are back in Cusco. We hope to meet up with some new friends this afternoon, or maybe see if we can catch a flight to the Amazon tonight.

Laters!

[ghost post] WATER MY PLANTS

I'm probably enjoying myself in Peru right now. Suckers.

ALSO: Hey Laura, did you remember to water my plants?

Also, I hope everyone is having a wonderful day.

NEW FEATURE: Ghost Posts

Hey gang,

Tomorrow I am going to Peru. It is going to be awesome.

In the next three weeks, you may occasionally see special Bac-Log "Ghost Posts", which are posts that I have prepared ahead of time and scheduled for publishing at certain dates. I like to think that I'll have time and opportunity to make some real posts that document my awesome adventures, but I'll probably be too busy laying on the beach or eating cerviche like I promised the UW Travel Health clinic I wouldn't. So don't hold your breath (unless you are going underwater).

See you later, suckers.

Taking justice into my own hands

For those of you who were concerned about the outcome of my epic mail situation, perhaps this will comfort you:



It turns out the power was in me this whole time. I can't believe I didn't think of this obvious solution right away.













My cordless drill will henceforth be known as Expedited Work Order, oKay? (I included the "oKay" so the abbreviation would be EWOK). (I think I need to get some more sleep).

Work Order

OK, so last week I broke my mailbox key off in the lock. I should have seen this coming since every time I check my mail it becomes an epic contest of strength and will to get the key in and out of the stupid lock. So when it snapped off last Monday I was like, "pfft, whatever. I'll deal with this later." Also, I decided to keep the broken bit on my keychain because it makes a surprisingly excellent bottle opener, and also serves as a good warning to my other keys.

Fast forward, um, a week (I might need to repeat a couple of grades in mail-checking school). I felt the tiny wand-tap of the mail fairy indicating that it was once again time to ceremoniously relocate supermarket circulars and credit card offers from my mailbox to the recycle bin. But then I remembered that my stupid key was still broken, and the bit in the mailbox was still there, and the mail-relocate ritual has been interrupted! The recycle bin will look longingly to the mailbox, but no word will ever come. Heartbreak.

So I went and bothered our homeowner's association president to see if she had a copy of the master key, but she was like, "master key? What?" And then I explained that there is a master key that opens the whole mailbox at once so that the mailman can bless us all with supermarket circulars without opening each individual box, but she just stared at me blankly, so I left. Prez 1, Grant 0.

So then, um, a couple of days later, when I remembered about my mailbox and my captive supermarket circulars and my sad recycle bin again, I decided to call the post office.

Okay, so here is a really important note for this really important story: I have this very intense rivalry with the postal delivery person. We are two foes, equally matched in skill and determination, fighting for a cause that is yet unknown. I will strategically not check my mail for a week or so, and he will cunningly counter by bending the magazine offer from the Smithsonian that clearly says Do Not Bend. You dog! I'm pretty sure he (or she) takes great pride in wadding up my mail and stuffing it as deep into my tiny box as possible (anything to say about this, Kyle?) Also, and I haven't confirmed this, but I'm reasonably certain they just take my ceremoniously discarded supermarket circulars out of the recycle bin and give them back to me as if to say, "I don't think you thoroughly read this the last time I gave it to you. Have you even considered this excellent deal on eggs?" Anyway, the point is that the postal delivery person clearly hates me, and I am passionately indifferent toward them. It is an epic battle for the ages that will be remembered long after our bones, locked together in a strangling death grip, become dust, and that dust fertilizes the soil, and in that soil grows trees, and those trees become paper, at that paper becomes supermarket circulars.

So I call the post office and get transferred around a few times until I finally reach the Interbay Postal Annex (woooo Interbay! [cue sound of one guy clapping in an empty auditorium]). I inform the dude that my battle with the postal carrier has been put on hold by key/lock mechanical failure and that if he wants to witness the next exciting round we should put differences aside and he should fix my mailbox. So he says, "alright, I will put in a Work Order for you," to which I reply, "awesome. So how long will that take?" And he replies, "I don't know, that's not my department." And thus is the end of our phone conversation. Sweet! I haz a Work Order!

So a couple more days go by, and the post-Work-Order honeymoon glow fades, and then I start considering the information exchanged with the Interbay Postal Annex Department Of Dudes Who Are Not In Whatever Department I Need:

Information given:

• I broke my key
• My address

Information NOT given:

• My name
• My phone number
• Any sort of confirmation

I don't put it past the post office to have complete mastery of the complex sorcery required to magically reconstitute my mail key out of the two separate parts, and perhaps when I draw the broken Shards of Keysil (this is what I call my mail key now) out of my pocket it will be made whole again [UPDATE: not yet], but you'd think they'd at least have given me an indication of what to expect. You know, the spell only works within a five-mile radius, or make sure I don't have my key in my pocket when the spell hits, or be sure to wait an hour before swimming. Also, "Work Order" is a pretty boring name for a magic long-distance metal reconstitution spell.

But really, what the hell just happened? What is this "Work Order" even going to do? How will they contact me? Mail? I think I just got swindled by USPS.

Maybe "Work Order" is a special advanced mail-delivery move the postal carriers do where they insert pictures of my friends with their eyes X-ed out into supermarket circulars and then urinate into my over-stuffed mailbox. Looks like this rivalry just moved up a notch. Those of you who live in the Interbay area should be on the lookout for my next move: a postal delivery person who looks like a normal postal delivery person with the subtle exception that they will be on fire and pursued by bees. I call this move "The Invoice".

Seriously, though, I should probably call them again.

Re: the title of your latest blog post

I'm pretty sure Admiral Heenkypants is better at the "Your Mom" joke than I will be at anything ever. Or at least more dedicated.

justice is hilarious and wet

Behold another installment of the timeless tale of Pet vs Kid, in which the hapless child seeks unjust revenge upon a superior feline foe and passersby are treated to an epic battle for the ages:



Here is the inner dialog associated with this shining moment of history:

KID: [constant buzzing sound]
CAT:
KID: [constant buzzing sound]
CAT:
KID: [constant buzzing sound]
CAT: nope
KID: [constant muted gurgling sound]

IMPORTANT UPDATE

People:

I am eating Pop Rocks. Has anyone else eaten these recently (I mean actually using them as intended, not by making explosions with root beer)? Anyway, they are the best. THE BEST! Pop Rocks just filled thousands of tiny explosion-shaped holes in my life that I was not even aware that I had.

So, how is everyone's day going?

that one time we broke into a brewery last weekend

Oh yeah, so I meant to regale you all with exciting tales of some recent adventures of mine, but then I sort of forgot, and also I am really busy. But guess what? It turns out that sometimes if you don't do something someone else will end up doing it for you! For example, you can check out one of my recent adventures by reading Admiral Heenkypants' recount of this one time we broke into an abandoned brewery last Sunday (to protect those involved, I will refer to my companions as "Admiral Heenkypants", "Echo 3-7", and "Jason"). Also, you can look at his pictures here because the link on his blog is broken.

It was pretty great. We snuck around through some woods. We almost got caught! We crawled through a tiny hole. I threw some stuff as hard as I could in an abandoned warehouse. Jason got bored on watch duty and started complaining. I scored an awesome giant "4" sign. Apparently Jason climbed this crazy wood thing when I was on watch duty. Due to a crazy misunderstanding, I made Admiral Heenkypants and Echo 3-7 run through some mud for no reason (oops! I would be sorry if I wasn't so busy laughing at you). Afterwards we had victory burritos and victory Tecate. Success!

The end.

either gasoline or clothing for thought, your choice

I was going to title this post "food for thought" for some reason (I hadn't gotten that far yet), but then I started thinking about what that phrase actually meant, and then I sort of lost my train of thought to a tragic thought derailment accident. This is pretty much the story of my life.

Okay, so does "food" refer to fuel for some sort of thought engine, or does "food" refer to actual food, presumably for some sort of thought animal? Am I the only one that is concerned with this ambiguity? The fuel idea represents a non-essential but presumably industrious and desirable function, whereas the food idea represents a necessary function for survival. Do I need thought food every day to keep my thought animal alive, or do I just need thought food whenever I want to fuel my thought car? DO YOU SEE WHY I'M HAVING TROUBLE WITH THIS? [note to readers: it's okay to say "no". But only once per month, so use it wisely. Okay, I guess you can say "no" twice in December, because it is the season of giving, but only one can be used in response to me asking you to buy me something. Also you will have to fill out a rebate form.]

Anyway, I forgot what my original point was, but I just decided that today is the Official Bac-Log Half-Opposite Day, wherein half of what I say will be opposite, but I will not tell you which is which, and also this whole idea could fall in the opposite category. Don't choke and/or flood your thought carburetor with all of that thought food/fuel!

Oh yeah, I just remembered that I was going to post this to regale you all with scintillating tales of adventure and delight regarding what I did and stuff I ate last week, but maybe I should do that tomorrow instead (to avoid Half-Opposite complete clarity).

I hope you have a neutral evening.

UPDATE: I just remembered that another thing I meant to post about was to get addresses to send reward haiku/recipe postcards to the brave participants of Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™. Teg, Tiny, Kevin Bacon, and Stueueuueek need to email me their addresses. KEEP THE IDEAS COMING, PEOPLE.

Also, if I suddenly ask for your address for no obvious reason, it is because you unintentionally gave me an idea for my novel, probably by tripping or spilling something. No good deed goes unrewarded.

Apparently we are getting a new president

When in the deeps of time I took upon myself the ancient and powerful mantle of "lazy and directionless blogger", I made a personal pledge to keep my bloggy tome free of certain subjects. It's not that I don't have strong feelings about these subjects; rather it is a reflection of my personal belief that my greatest instrument of change is through example (be the change you want to see in the world). There are very few people who have the charisma and sheer depth and scope of absolute knowledge to force their views onto someone who is not ready or willing to change their minds. I am certainly not one of these people. I like to think that my personal philosophical platform is extremely rational and non-threatening, and that I can affect change in my own way, but rationality has little effect against the walls of stubborness that spring up when certain subjects are broached. Plus, I feel that the most important blog in the history of time should be an open and safe environment for all visitors. Bac-log is all about inclusionism. These subjects that I swore to banish forever from the hallowed pages of the great and ancient Bac-Logia are, of course, Politics, Religion, and Celebrity Gossip.

All that being said, In case you haven't heard, we are finally getting a new president! Whichever candidacy wins the general election tomorrow, be it either the refreshing and pride-inducing voice of change and reason or the ticket that may as well have been cast for a reality TV show, the real winners will be the American people. Of course, there are different levels of winning, and I would personally prefer to win the $1,000,000 instead of the free 20oz Coke, but I'll be happier with either than nothing, which is what we have now. (To maintain my unbiased reporting of this political event, I will not tell you which candidate is the 20oz coke and which is the million bucks.)

Okay, so how is it that, as far as I can tell, nobody has artistically rendered GObama as that one GoBot that was made of the 6 other GoBots, except in this case it would be a super badass presidential candidate made out of 6 other super badass presidential candidates, each one of which is powerful in their own way but an unstoppable force for good when combined? I mean that in an unbiased way, of course.

Anyway, the reason that I bring this up is because I just found out a couple of hours ago that I will be witnessing the unfolding of this epic historical turning point from Alaska. You probably know Alaska as that state what can see Russia, but you may be STUNNED to hear that it is also governed by a certain VP candidate! (Let's call her Sarah P. No, that's too obvious. We will call her S. Palin.) As you may imagine, most polls are predicting that this state will selflessly offer its 3 small but courageous electoral votes to the iron will of SP's ticket.

I'm bummed that I am going to miss what I'm sure will be a boozy haze followed by SCENE MISSING at Perrywinkle and Stueck's election party tomorrow, but I have obviously been chosen for a task of far greater importance than converting half-racks of PBR into urine (I'll have to make it up by working harder on the weekends I guess). Why do I think this? Well, take this short summary of JRR Tolkien's classic The Lord of the Rings:

At the turn of the tide of history, a quiet but brave hero undertakes a desperate journey into the heart of the Enemy's realm to destroy an object of power with which the Enemy will enslave the world. Also, some other dude becomes king and restores a fading world to its former glory.

What I think this is telling me is that I must travel alone with only my trusty servant (iPod) to the Land of the Enemy (Alaska) to destroy some sort of object of power by casting it in the Cracks of Doom (Gulf of Alaska). Only by defeating the Dark Lord (Palin) of the Dark Tower (Wasilla) can the king (Obama) return to restore the fading world to its former glory (pre-Bush). [In case you are interested in extending this metaphor, please note that Morgoth represents McCain, Gollum represents my self-doubt, and that Gandalf is not present for my quest represents the fact that I will not get iPhone reception in the Aleutians]. I mean this all in an unbiased way, of course.

I'm not sure what the evil object of power is yet, so my current plan is to save the world by hurling an onion ring into the Gulf of Alaska unless someone can suggest something better. Also, the homoerotic bed reunion scene from the movie version will have to wait to be played out until I return [which is to say, SLO-MO PILLOW FIGHT GRANT'S PLACE THURSDAY YOU ARE ALL INVITED].

Anyway, you should all vote tomorrow.

[also: if you are a California voter and are undecided about the proposition to change the state constitution to actively remove legal rights, protections, and freedoms from California citizens, please consider that a mistake that causes harm is worse than a mistake that fails to do good. Please just choose to leave people with their freedom and rights until you decide one way or the other.]

In case you were wondering about my gender

Hey guys, this was on BoingBoing today:



This far-reaching and world-changing web tool analyzes a website to determine if it is written by a dude or a chick. I have no idea why this is important, but that's probably because I am but a pawn in the game of life. This web tool is probably curing cancer as we speak.

Anyway:



Internet! I give you so much, and this is how you repay me?

I do have a pretty sweet figure, though. And I dig the pants. Okay, internet, you are forgiven.

Anyway, this just makes me wonder how this tool actually works. Does it analyze word choices for gender patterns? Do I have a preponderance of "womanly" content in my blog? Am I that out of touch with my own gender? I guess I better post more man stuff:






Speaking of man stuff, if you type "chick with " into the Google toolbar thingy on Firefox, here is what Google offers as suggested searches:

chick with guns
chick with the braids lyrics
chick with the altoids
chick with ambition
chick with the gun jeans
chick with antlers

This is an example of how technology has the power to improve our lives. Google increased my quality of life drastically today by allowing me to save precious time by not having to type out "antlers". I was then able to waste invest that time in Sudoku and funny cat pictures.

Thanks to the internet, my life can has more Sudoku, and apparently less Y chromosome.

Prepare for the awesoming

Okay gang,

This is now my 6th attempt at deploying Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™. The other 5 attempts ended up not making any sense. THIS BODES WELL FOR MY NOVEL.

Here's the deal: NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. I am going to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. This is going to be hard, but you've all seen my top-notch pointless rambling skillz. I think I can do this.

The primary reason that I am invoking the Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™ is because I am a junkie for reader participation and encouragement. However, I think the reason that I have had trouble getting it set up is that I'm not actually sure how Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™ should work. If I bribe you all for ideas with fabulous prizes, would you actually want to wade through 175 pages of crap to see me butcher your innocent and well-meaning gem of inspiration? Probably not. And what's the point of carefully crafting an amazing story idea when you don't get to see it implemented, and all you get from your effort is endless glory or ice cream or jumping high-fives?

So I think it's going to work like this: Throughout the entire month, If you have an idea that you think I would like, please leave it in the comments of this post and I will reward you with a homemade postcard featuring either a recipe or a haiku or a recipe in haiku form. (You may also email or tell me in person, but you will not get the postcard. SPECIAL OFFER: the postcard may also be used as a coupon for one free game of Monopoly with me and Kyle. You will be the banker. Kyle and I will be drunk. Starcraft may be substituted for Monopoly. If Kyle is not available, Vik may be substituted for Kyle. We could also play Yahtzee. You will provide the Yahtzee. Scrabble will not be tolerated).

Anyway, IF I decide to use your little pearl of idea-ness in some way in my story, I will also reward you with a Bac-Log Brand™ Original Recipe fabulous prize. Prize will be determined by a poll of Bac-Log readers. (With the exception of constantly subjecting you all to my inflexible and uncontested point of view, Bac-Log is all about democracy). IN ADDITION to the aforementioned fabulous prize, I will also post an excerpt or description of how your idea was used so that you may cuddle with the resulting glory.

What qualifies as an idea, you might ask? Well, check out this sparkling gem that Kevin Bacon just selflessly offered to the cause:

I once told someone to write me a story based around a guy who works in a photo place and develops photos all day long. You can have that one if you want.

Hahaha, I seriously have no idea why I find this so funny. THESE ARE HOW LOW MY STANDARDS ARE. Here are some more ideas that I am going to make up on the spot to make you feel better about your own:

• Time traveling coffee cup finds love
• Time traveling toaster finds love
• Title: Dr Awesome's False Advertising Lawsuit
• Time traveling Barry Manilow finds Mani-love
• Somebody trips a lot
• Everyone is a robot except for one guy!!!!
• Can your story have unicorns or ferrets pls? thanx
• Every character is a mystery-solving butler
  
• Sexy international super-spies have a wacky house party and someone dies and they have to pretend they are still alive to win a large inheritance and also there is a talking dog.
• Jane Austin fan fiction
• Jane Austin fan fiction but everyone is a robot except for one guy!!!
• Sexy lazy blogger reveals himself as a superhero and fights crime and solves mysteries and throws crazy house parties.
• Time traveling food processor finds love.
• A list of the last 50,000 things I ate.
• Maintenance program engineer for major aerospace and defense corporation that rhymes exactly with "Boeing" uses his knowledge of airplane maintenance programs and fancy tea to solve mysteries.
• It is the 80s and the story takes place entirely on yachts.

You guys can do better than that! (And you will, or I will keep bugging you). GET TO IT.

Please?

Premium Quality Cornhole Bags.

Hey, it's been a while since I've had a good Gmail sponsored link. Gmail's ad engines must be getting more efficient.

Cornhole Bags $19.99/Set. - www.CornHoleShop.com - Premium Quality Cornhole Bags. Ready to Ship. Low price year round

Am I the only person who knows exactly one definition of "cornhole"? I don't think I am going to click on this link at work.

UPDATE: Here is some new information:

• My friend Laurel of Penguinbot fame (GO BUY STUFF THERE) informs me that in addition to cornhole bags, you can also get cornhole caddies.
• Courtney says cornholing is fun.
  
• Kyle says they cornhole on the streets in Chicago.

Bac-log: the novel

Hey, guess what month it is? [NO CHEATING, OK]

If you said "October", you get partial credit for being technically correct. If you said "whatever month is before November", you also get partial credit. If you said "August", you get partial credit for guessing what month I thought it was when I filled out my time card this morning. If you said "I'm hungry", you get partial credit for correctly identifying a basic human survival need. If you tried to figure out the answer by looking at the sun's relative position in the sky and arrived at "either Spring or early afternoon", you get partial credit for probably being either Jason or Kyle. If you said "almost NANOWRIMO, why?", you get full credit for the NaNoWriMo part, extra credit for identifying it as "almost", but then you lose the extra credit by being cocky. Nobody likes a showoff.

So anyways, National Novel Writing Month approacheth, and surfing on the crest of this incoming wave of destructively bad writing rides some of my very own Bac-Log Brand Extra-Strength Inane Babble™. That's right: 50,000 words of incomprehensible and poorly structured "writing" is haphazardously carving a swath of destruction from the future toward the present.

I first heard about this whole NaNoWriMo thing last year and made a quarter-ass effort to jump into the fray a week or two late [hint: not a good plan]. I seem to recall making it to about 2,000 words before realizing that my no-plot approach was, um, not getting anywhere (GO FIGURE). 2,000 words out of 50,000 is like defiantly throwing rocks at an approaching tank, except that I'm pretty sure there actually was no tank (I should check the FAQs again to make sure). So anyway, in retrospect I guess I just threw some rocks around and they are probably still lying around somewhere if someone wants to do some landscaping or something. POINT IS: I don't think I did it right.

At this point you are probably experiencing a creeping dread and nervously thinking, "oh geez, I knew this day would come eventually; Grant is going to make me proofread his novel." DO NOT WORRY-- before you try to tell me there was static in the internet or your cat ate the blog just think about one thing: if I really wanted to subject you to 50,000 words of pointless gibberish I would just start a blog called "Bac-log!" and you would be reading it right now.

Oh no, I do not expect anyone to actually consume the gelatinous word sausage that will be squeezed out of my braintubes into casings of literary intestine any more than I would expect someone to ride a roller coaster built by some guy who is "90% sure" he knows what a hammer is. Unless, of course, you actually want to (really? Eww). My purpose in pestering you today is to merely ask for a little bit of encouragement. Encouragement, and, um, maybe some novel ideas.

The encouragement part should be easy: Next time you see me, simply ask, "Hey Bac-log! How's that novel coming?" And I will be like, "it's going awesome, thank you for your asking-ness," and then we will exchange jumping high-fives and I will try to get you to buy me a beer. You see, in addition to being a valuable addition to our standard Fonzie-thumbs-up-gesture-followed-by-exploding-fist-jab greeting, the constant clamoring for updates will also give me reason to actually write the stupid novel.

The idea part is exactly like the encouragement part except with slightly less passive questioning and slightly more high-fiving, and also a lot more ideas. Now, I'm not asking for a full plot synopsis or a well-organized outline or anything so comprehensive (I can do that part, since, you know, I am the one writing the novel.) I am merely hoping to dig through some post-brainstorm debris, or riffle through scraps of characters or settings or inconsequential anecdotes or throw-away conversations to see if I can score anything valuable enough to sell back to the idea pawn shop for some idea booze money.

To grease the wheels (BREAKING NEWS: Bac-log's knock-off version of "grease the wheels" will now be called "wease the greels", because it sounds hilarious when you accidentally say it out loud at work).

Anyway, to wease the greels, brace yourselves for the incoming Bac-log Novel Idea Contest CHALLENGE 2008™! You know the drill: Prizes will be fabulous. Contest judging will be openly questioned. Tempers will flare. Friends will be made into enemies. Enemies will be made into friends. Friends will be made into slightly better friends. Bystanders will be made into loose acquaintances. Dogs and cats will live together. Problems will be solved. Problems might not be solved and we'll just agree to ignore them. Deadlines will be missed. Tears. Heroes will be made. Hands will be clapped. Rainbows will lead to magical unicorns instead of pots of gold and you guys will probably complain. Maybe the unicorns took it, OK? Geez. Nonsense will be made. However, this does not necessarily mean no nonsense will not be made. Metaphors will get lost in. Prepositions will be used to end sentences with. Sentence fragments. Ice cream.

(You know, standard Bac-log operating procedure.)

Thank you for your time and encouragement in advance! Stay tuned!