Category Archives: Asteroid Pies

Miscellaneous thoughts and comments that meander into a disjointed mess.

My longest running post series ever!

My longest running post series ever!

So as a follow up to this post, which is a follow up to this post, I have decided on a third person for my list to replace the one I had to remove. Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t think of her before, as she’s not exactly unfamiliar to me. And she’s hot. Very hot. And I’ve made mention of her on the site before! I have no explanation for this behavior other than being dropped on my head repeatedly as a child. So to whom do I refer? Eliza Dushku! Yes, like the other two women on my list, I would give up hot sauce and/or kill for her.

I have received a comment or two from some old friends who check the site once in a while and it saddens me to say that they too have a tough time wrapping their heads around that, but I think I finally have a way to easily explain this. You know how some couples have a short list of people where they tell their significant other that should one of the people on the list proposition them, they’d totally accept? Its like that. If I’m hanging out with you and one of these people pops out of the bushes and asks me to do something for them, whatever that might be, I would gladly do it. If that action resulted in your death, well… everyone’s gotta go some time, right? 😉

And hey, cheer up! It’s not all thunderstorms and farts! They might ask me to give up hot sauce or do something innocuous! You might even get to point and laugh at me! Just be aware that your satisfaction is not guaranteed.

I surely hope mine is. 😀

I am a bad person

I am a bad person

I have recently discussed my post of women I’d give up hot sauce and/or murder for with my bestest friend and have been made aware of a factor I did not consider earlier: disease. Horrible, horrible, wasting disease. Gross disease. To paraphrase: “You don’t know where that’s been” disease. As such I must revise my earlier list of women in the aforementioned post.

Sorry Angelina. We’ll always have… um… that post I guess.

My sincerest apologies to my bestest friend for my hasty judgments.

On Hot Sauce and Murder

On Hot Sauce and Murder

My Bestest Friendâ„¢ and I recently had a conversation during which I informed her that I would not hesitate to kill her and her boyfriend (who is a fun guy; I have nothing against him) should Milla Jovovich suddenly appear and ask me to. You wanna know how I know Sharon’s my best friend? Her response was “Dude, I’d be pretty disgusted with you if she asked you to kill me and you didn’t.” That’s a true friend, folks.

But do you know, when trying to explain this to others, I have been less than successful. Most people simply do not understand and I don’t know how to explain it to them. Their loss I suppose. I was just trying to explain to them the second most likely cause that I would go on a murderous rampage (the first most likely cause is being fed up with their dumbity).

After careful consideration, I have recently expanded my list of hot chicks I would kill for to three people. Aside from the aforementioned person, I would also add Jemma Griffiths (aka the singer Jem) and the ubiquitous Angelina Jolie.

On a less homicidal note, we had another discussion relating to giving up various favorite foods for significant others. Now, if you know me at all, you know that for me Hot Sauce > *. It’s just how things are. Almost everything is better with hot sauce (notable exceptions being drinks and deserts). If I was dating someone and they wanted me to give up hot sauce, I gotta tell ya, I’d kick em to the curb… unless they’re one of the three I mention above. For them, I would give up hot sauce. Everyone else, talk to the hand.

I just felt you all should know this just in case one day you decide to date me and want me to give up hot sauce. Know that this will not happen. And if I show up at your door unexpectedly with a big grin and an even bigger pointy stick, don’t be scared or sad. Know that your sacrifice will ensure good times for me. Because in the end, isn’t that what it’s all about? Good times… for me.

This post brought to you by Enchiritos drowning in habanero hot sauce with a touch of Dave’s Total Insanity Sauce and lots and lots of boredom. Oh, and the letter S.

Artifact Found!

Artifact Found!

Recently, while searching through the vast archives of The NORN Collective’s early years, I discovered a wondrous artifact that has waited patiently to be found and begin again it’s reign of glory.

Early in the years of Our Terrible Overlord of Ground Transportation Nornan III (before we knew the full breadth of his depravity), an oddity was discovered about the malevolent mechanical monstrosity. In the front passenger seat, there was a bar that seemed to serve no purpose. The locals, for lack of an explanation of this strange structure, decided to call it a towel rack. A long standing member The NORN Collective decided that since it was a towel rack, it seemed silly for it not to have a towel hanging from it, especially when one considers the writings of the great wise man Douglas Adams, in which he recommends having a towel with you at all times (for obvious reasons).

The towel was greeted with great jubilation by all who saw it. For many years, it served as a shining beacon, the last vestige of hope against the growing tide of vehicular villainy. But alas, like so many things that would buoy an oppressed peoples, it was tragically removed from the vehicular venue it proudly hung in for lo these many years. The ultimate culprit? The sun’s rays caused a bleaching of color, resulting in a faded towel, and what some perceived as faded hope.

It was stored, lost, and eventually stories of the light it brought turned to myth and legend. Many doubted whether such a thing could even exit, but those few, those faithful, those old enough to remember Nornan III’s tyranny and the light that the Towel of Destiny offered never wavered in their steadfast belief that the towel would eventually return to the people.

At long last, the towel is found. During this writing, it has been undergoing a painstaking cleaning and restoration process (read: the washing machine). And tomorrow… tomorrow it shall return not to the oppressive reign of Nornan III, who has long since been vanquished, but instead it will take it’s rightful place within Isabelle, our new beautiful and benevolent ground transportation coordinator. While she possesses no towel rack from which the Towel of Destiny can hang, a place will surely be made for it.

The Towel of Destiny once brought hope to a hopeless people, and was stricken down for its efforts. One can imagine that, like the phoenix born again from its ashes, the Towel of Destiny will inspire us to greater heights than before and lead us all into a new golden age.

Photos of the Towel of Destiny


10 of 11
The NORN Collective (Unimatrix 001, Beta Node)
Command Staff Adjutant / Chief Archivist

I didn’t forget!

I didn’t forget!

Sort of. I totally meant to write something up. But my closet broke and I spent a bunch of the day trying to sort that out. Then I watched The Dead Zone and 4400. Then I forgot what I was going to write about. I think it might have been something funny, but it’s equally likely that the only person who thought it was funny was me. But I guess we’ll never know now cause I can’t remember shit about what I was going to write.

Some substitute ramblings:
I hate the Sci-fi channel for canceling Stargate SG-1. Those guys are a bunch of fuckers. I hope everyone involved in that decision suffers from STDs, knowledge of which gets leaked out and causes them to be fired for embarrassing the company. Whatever disease they get, I hope it burns every time they pee. EVERY TIME. And itches too. Or they could just contract Ebola. That would be cool too. Buncha goat-bastids.

I’m hungry. But I’m also feeling kinda lazy (like that’s news). I tried Wendy’s new sandwich called the BACONATOR last night. That was… something. Two (or three?) 1/4 lb slabs of beef with 2 slices of cheese and 2-4 strips of bacon on top of each. Ketchup. Mayo. Bun. That’s it. I ate the whole village thing. I eating that monstrosity shortened my lifespan. By like 50 years. I’ll probably drop dead of a heart attack next week or something. But you know what? I REGRET NOTHING! I’d do it again. Except I’d tell them to keep their nasty ketchup. That just didn’t go well with the BACONATOR. Surprisingly, my hunger is what made me think of the BACONATOR, not the other way around as is so often the case. I wanna go get some Taco Bell, but… meh. I’m just not up to moving right now. Let no one ever claim that I don’t know why I’m a giant fatass.

As of last Thursday, I am now the proud owner of The Definitive Twilight Zone Complete Series Edition Box Set of DOOM. Or something. All the episodes and a bunch of commentaries and lectures and interviews by Rod Serling and some of the actors. I am no longer tied to the Sci-Fi Channel’s marathon at New Year’s! I can stage my own! I think this Thanksgiving, I will lock myself in my living space with infinite food and watch Twilight Zone episodes until I end up in a coma brought on by a cessation of beta wave brain activity and the rising of alpha wave activity to such levels that would drive most neurologists to drink were they to consider it.

I leave you with this, for no reason other than I found myself thinking of this suddenly:
“We are dreamers, shapers, singers, and makers. We study the mysteries of laser and circuit, crystal and scanner, holographic demons and invocations of equations. These are the tools we employ, and we know many things. Fourteen words to make someone fall in love with you forever, seven words to make them go without pain, how to say goodbye to a friend who is dying, how to be poor, how to be rich, how to rediscover dreams when the world has stolen them from you.” – Elric the Technomage

Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick

Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick

Taken from here:

A caller found blood on the sheets in a Wheat Drive motel room and thought it was related to the recent shooting. Officers determined it wasn’t.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

No dude, just no. Just… yikes. I am simultaneously horrified and amused, both of these emotions stirred in nearly epic levels. This totally obliterates any sorrow from receiving my second rejection letter today (from UMass).

I hate love these meeses to pieces!

I hate love these meeses to pieces!

I took advantage of Google Checkout’s $20 off $50 offer at Buy.com and got myself a Logitech G5 Laser Mouse (OF DOOMâ„¢) for only $35 w/shipping. While I liked my old Logitech MX700, which had much cordless fun, I got tired of the battery issue. It came with rechargeable batteries, but those are pretty much at the end of their lifespan. I’d been using my Energizer rechargeables, but I can’t use the Logitech base station to charge those, so I’d have to swap em out every 2-3 days, which was just plain annoying. Enter the G5.

This mouse is sweet. I’ve got it set to 800 DPI right now, but it can step down to 400 and 2000 DPI as well. I think it’s got other custom resolutions too. It’s got two less buttons than the MX700, but I don’t really mind as I didn’t really use either of those buttons (and one of them commonly got in the way). The sides are nicely textured and it’s possible to adjust the DPI on the fly from the mouse itself (though I’ve been playing with reassigning those buttons to other functions).

A few oddities: It’s got a strange fabric covered cord. I’m not sure what the point of it is, but I guess it looks/feels nice. The oddest thing has to be the weird ass weight cartridge (or ass-weight cartridge to some). It’s a small orange cartridge that has slots for ~10 circular weights that come in a handsome metal tin. There are 1.7g and 4.5g weights. You’re supposed to put them in the cartridge and slide that into the mouse to give it the heft and balance you like. I find such a thing strange and confusing. The mouse feels fine without any weights. All responsive and shit. But, since it comes with these adorable little weights, and their metal case really is so nice, I feel compelled to use them. So I stuck in four of each of the weights to give it some heft in an even manner.

Now here’s the best part: This mouse works with my SNES mouse pad. I have longed for an excuse to use this thing. LONGED. Alas, for many years, it was not to be. With my MX700, which is an optical mouse, the grey plastic repetitive surface proved too much for it’s little tracking engine to handle. Since I wasn’t about to ditch a mouse over a mouse pad, I sadly put away my grey nostalgic mousing surface. But my salvation is here at last! The tracking abilities of this laser mouse are far superior to its predecessor and I am thusly brought into the land of grey plastic mouse pad majesty!

In other news, picture restoration is going well, but slowly due to my disgusting and chronic laziness. Kitten pictures have returned, with various other pictures to follow! I’m even writing descriptions and grouping them and naming them this time! Amazing!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I must descend into a dark pit of eternal despair I had thought I’d left behind long ago.

The Morning After

The Morning After

“Shit. What time is it?”

There are 4 bottles left and it’s fucking 9:20 AM. I got to sleep at 4 last night and then had to wake up like a half hour ago. So there’s one more early (and I mean EARLY) wake up call left and I still have to dispose of the evidence. I need to find me a good bottle return machine, post-haste.

While it appears my typing has improved, I do believe I am still slightly tipsy. Not like last night’s drunken Diablo II where I was totally angry-cat-faced, but still a little sauced.

I think, for a moment there, I was about to get philosophical or something, but that moment has passed. I still can’t believe I was able to play Diablo II and beat Act II while hammered. Thanks go to Sharon, my bestest friend, who called me up with a rousing call to arms and showed me that even when drnka, I can still fight evil. Like that Legend of Drunken Master movie with Jackie Chan. Except with less kicking, as Sharon put it.

I’m going to drop my fool sister off at work. Then, I go back to bed.