I almost forgot.

So I'm having lunch with this group from work and a woman I used to work with from another team, and we're talking about the local eateries, and I mention... "hey, yeah, I try not to go to [large chain corporate restaurant] too often. I'm just burned out on it."
"I won't go to [large chain corporate restaurant] either," says Michelle.
"Burned out?"
"No."
"Sick of their food?"
"No. I'll tell you when we finish eating."
So i assume it's a barf story, or a story about something she found in someone's plate, or something fun like that.
"No," she says. "My husband went to the bathroom, and he came back white as a sheet. And I asked him what the problem was. And he said he found a dead guy in the bathroom."
"A what?"
"A dead guy. Apparently the guy had shot himself in the head just before my husband walked in. So he saw.. you know..."
"Oh my God."
"Yeah."
"So we had to sit there while they pretended to help the dead guy, who was pretty much dead... and then we watched him get carried out on a gurney."
"You have to wonder," my co-worker said, "How he got the cat in there."
We all stared at her quizzically.
"It wasn't a cat," Octavio offered. "It was a guy."
"Oh, well, that makes more sense," she nodded. "I thought you said it was a cat in the bathroom, and I couldn't figure out how you would get a cat into a [large chain corporate restaurant]."
"And so we're walking out the door," Michelle continued. "And the hostess is still asking How was everything?, and the other hostess is, like Shut Up! They're the ones who found the guy in the bathroom!"
"So, did you ever find out what had happened?"
"No," Michelle shrugged. "He had been drinking at the bar a while, and then my husband found him."

So, Leaguers, a little morbid thought for the next time you're feeling like heading down to your corner [large chain corporate restaurant].

and because I have not yet said it: There, but for the Grace of God, go I....

In response to my post below regarding the guy who loves Tron, Nathan C. of San Antonio has offered the following:

"Wednesday morning, after allowing it to dry overnight, I tried it on to see what problems needed fixing: "

As in: "TRON warriors were never this pudgy?"
As in: "I'm still not as cool as Flynn. What's wrong?"
As in: "my head/Master Control Program?"
As in: "I still can't get that orange on the kitchen table to disappear by shooting it with my keychain laser pointer?"
As in: "I still seem to wipeout on my motorcycle every time I try one of those 90 degree turns. Need to work on the suspension."

Check out this ad. I'm totally going to start growing kids of myself so I can harvest them for parts later.

Actually, the website is a fake-ad for the new movie Godsend starring DeNiro. Apparently a number of people who have actually lost their children have found the site while trying to work through their grief, and the site isn't doing them any favors. The web-site doesn't really indicate it's a plant and advertising gimmick for a movie. A strange, weird world we live in. I mean, we actually live in an era where science fiction is blurring with fact. (No, I do not know enough about cloning to know where we actually are right now with cloning a human, but the experiments in the Garage of Solitude are going well.)

It's always a little horrific to see Hollywood try to grapple with new technology or ideas. Anybody else remember the movies The Net or Hackers? A little knowledge is a very dangerous thing and usually makes for a very silly movie about seven years after the fact. Godsend, in particular, looks to be Pet Semetary meets The Sixth Day. And if that one-two combo doesn't do it for you, I can't imagine what would.

I'll be curious to see if the ad changes.

If I could browbeat all of the Leaguers into changing one behavior, it would be to get them to step into a comic shop just once this year. You don't even need to spend any money, but get an idea of the wacky world of comic nuttiness. Breath in the warm, stale air of the local comic shop and be amazed at the nonsense inherent therein.

Somehow, I finally broke Randy. I'm not sure if he ever actually bought anything, but he went back inside. From there, the infiltration begins.

Speaking of comics... (which I occasionally do...)

Superman has officially relaunched with new creative teams for the next year. To get an idea of what you might expect, I suggest you take a look at the website DC has created for those of you curious to see what is going on in Metropolis these days. They've provided very nice PDF sneak peeks.

Here is the preview for Superman #204 coming out in two weeks.

Just when i was feeling a little low about what kind of geek I've willingly become, some things brighten your day. This guy's enthusiasm is contagious.

thanks to Jamie for the link.

I should never go to Vegas.

My first trip to Vegas was, at that point, the furthest west I had ever travelled, my first time in a desert, and my first work related trip. I was travelling with Michael "The My" Young and Derek "G-rated fun" Lee, my co-workers from the multimedia shop we'd set up at the University of Texas.

It was strange enough seeing the hotels from the plane and then from the tarmac... like tiny little sets built out in the middle of nowhere for some post-apocolyptic envisioning of the world, or maybe Brainiac's playground after he's miniaturized city after city. But then you draw closer, and you realize that was just a trick of the light, a matter of perspective. Each hotel is a city unto itself. Your brain lied to you, simply because it had never seen anything like it, and couldn't process the insanity.

We checked into Circus-Circus (actually... funny story... somehow Circus Circus did not have us listed as guests despite the fact we were holding reservation confirmations in our hands. These were the early days of online hotel reservations, kids...). Jamie's family was in Vegas for some reason at the same time. So while we were sorting our mess out, there's Dick and Judy waving to me from across the very crowded lobby.

One's first view of The Strip is overwhelming, but inconsequential to my point here. My point here is that I should never go to Vegas.

Because after several days in Vegas of wandering the NAB showroom and sitting through hours of presentations and visiting the Coca-Cola museum and all that good stuff, one morning I woke up, took a shower, put on my socks and turned on the TV while Michael "The My" Young brushed his teeth.

"Jesus," I said. "Some kids just opened up with a bag of guns at their high school out in Colorado."
"Where?"
"Columbine?"
"Oh," said The My. "That's where I grew up."

We watched the TV for a while, not saying much. We went down to a cafe and got some eggs, and didn't really talk. And that was that. My hadn't gone to school at Columbine High School, and he didn't know the kids... but, still.

And if you've been reading here for a while, you may remember that my second trip to Vegas began on September 9th, 2001 and ended a few days later when planes started flying again, and everybody was painfully polite to one another.

So, yeah... I shouldn't ever go back to Vegas.

Jim informs me that the Hellmouth is not in Sunnyvale. It is in Sunnydale. Which would explain why there are so few vampires here in Sunnyvale. Instead, we're plagued by CHUDs.