Noice: For When You Need To Sound Like You Care More Than You Actually Do.


Noice Start!

This year has been off to an odd herky-jerky, chuggy sort of start. Minor sickness, minor injuries, minor woes keep interrupting the routines. None of these are anything to get upset or worried about. They’re just preventing me from attaining a cruising altitude feel. The sensation of having enough momentum to plow through anything that happens to come along.

On top of all those numerous vague issues, I’ve also been far more sleepy than I have in past years. Falling asleep during a movie was never an issue. However, I would at least wake up early and grab life by the short and curlies. Now, I sleep in. I think I’ll chalk it up to a change that I’m able to recognize. I’m getting older.

Douchebaggery De Evolution

Another change I’ve recognized is my newly formed propensity for saying, “Noice!” Yes, that word that conjures images of bros and douchebaggery has found its way into my lexicon. The first time I said it, I nearly threw up in the back of my mouth. The second time I used it, I felt such shame. Now, I’ve said it so many times that I’ve lost count. That is, if I were ever counting at all. You see, in order to count, one has to give a shit. As I’ve come to find out and readers will soon discover, or are at least already somewhat aware of, people who use the word, “Noice!” do not give a shit.

Noice Brah, I Totally Care

What do they not give a shit about? Well, it could be anything, but it’s probably about whatever they experienced in the moment before saying, “Noice!” It’s kind of like that Meatloaf song, the one about doing anything for love, but not doing that. Where that is something that happened in the previous verse. Instead of not doing that for love, people are saying, “Noice!” for whatever happened the moment before. This version of the song could be called, “Well I Could Actually Give A Shit (But I’ll Choose To Say Noice!)”

For those singing or whispery mouth moving along at home, it kind of works doesn’t? For those who don’t know which song I’m talking about, go listen all eleven minutes and fifty eight seconds of it. Let me know what you think below. Noice!


Asics: ANUSHOE


Asics

I bought a pair of Asics last weekend. I’m a runner, I guess. I’ve been running long enough that I should just be considered a runner. Thing is, I don’t exactly look like a runner. Nor do I do all the weird things runners do. I’ll see you in hell before I attach a fanny pack or visor to my person.

ANUSHOE*

Anyway, around five hundred kilometers, shoes start breaking down. They lose all their good support. They may last a bit longer, but one should start looking for new shoes. Mine had six hundred and fifty seven – that the NSA knows about, I think there is an additional twenty to thirty from undocumented treadmill runs – since I bought them twelve months ago. I needed a new pair of shoes.

Coincidentally

Lucky for me, I went to the mall for some other reason and the shoe store was having a grand opening. Everything was twenty percent off. Except for the Asics Optimum 180’s I bought, which were down to $79 from there usual $160. For those of you who call tangents “Break out conversations,” that’s a whopping fifty percent.

It was part of the door crasher deals. The best part is I bought them in the afternoon. The store had been open for hours. I didn’t have to be there early or stand in line.

They also happen to be a very comfortable pair of shoes and I see why everyone has been recommending them. Running is squishy and firm at the same time. Which is usually a one or the other kind of deal. The squish feels more supportive than the foam that New Balance has. They feel great!


*This is an Arrested Development reference. If you haven’t watched it yet, add yet another tally to the poor life decisions column.

Hey Dumbass: Segue doesn’t fucking mean what you think it means

grammar, writing

Hey Dumbass! Segue doesn’t fucking mean what you think it means. No, I’m not talking about segway, the stupid little two wheel vehicle that is fueled by sex life or lack there of I’m not quite sure how it works. Either way, people who ride segways either don’t have sex or have such serious game that they enjoy the added challenge of trying to look hot as shit while riding an adult big wheel. No, I’m talking about the word segue, the one that everyone uses wrong. Don’t even bother googling it, I’ll tell you what it means. Just read on.

You see segue originally meant, “An uninterrupted piece of music or film.” A seamless transition from one piece to another. It’s Italian and literally literally* means “follow.”

Sure, it seems plausible that the word could be used to describe seamless transitions in other media and works. Like moving immediately to book two of The Song of How the Court Wizard Stole My Sex Life septilogy after completing the first one.

What it does not mean, by any stretch of the imagination or gerrymandering of the lexicon is to talk about one thing and then start talking about a diff-ucking-erent topic. To talk about a different topic would be a tangent or for the politically correct crowd who are afraid of upsetting people who suck at math, “A break out conversation.”

The only way using segue to define talking about one thing and then changing topics is proper usage is if one means it ironically and doesn’t mean it at all. However, since you’re reading this and I just wrote it, neither of us are all that smart. How ironic could we possibly be?


*Yes, I meant to double up on “literally.” Due to flagrant misuse of the word literally, it’s now necessary to double up when one actually literally means what one is literally saying.

Yanny or Laurel


Yanny or Laurel

I felt my blood turn to ice water when I saw Yanny or Laurel and read the brief description below. “It’s 2015 and that ghawddamn dress all over again!” I told myself. Which I followed up with “I’m not getting involved!” and “I’m not getting and will never listen to it.”

Life went on and I could for a great majority of the time forget about the whole thing. Every now and then I would happen upon some scuffle on the ye olde internet, but I would just pass by, leaving them to continue to pull hair and scratch out eyes.

I Was Blindsided

Then two days later. As I was listening to CBC, Tom – you’re on notice – Power played the damn clip before I realized what happening. I’d failed in my goal of avoiding. I didn’t take off my headphones or mute the audio, I just let it happen.

I Heard Laurel

As I am basically a curmudgeon with training wheels, it’s a fairly safe bet what I heard. I’m not some sort of out of control privileged millennial*. Nor am I accustom to hearing voices in my head. People from the heavens and pickle jars do not speak to me. I don’t nightlight as some urban avenger that can hear the conversations of criminals from across the park.

I heard laurel, of course I did. I couldn’t possibly have heard anything cool and been one of the ten percent of my facebook friends that heard yanny. Before anyone says they are lying, lemme say, “They are all reputable folks so I don’t think they are lying.” Of course they are younger than me so, they are definitely millennials.


*I’m looking at the camera this is such a joke. Millenial’s a great and depending on what page I pull up, sometimes I am one.

Werther’s Originals: It Wasn’t Meant To Be A Tangent


Werther’s Original

I haven’t even gotten over the hill yet and I already smell like an old man. This is mostly due to the Voltaren I just coated my arm and knee with. Recently, my natural musk is an odd mixture of medicine cabinet mint and Werther’s Originals. Are there even any other kinds of Werther’s to be the original of? Is there a cherry flavored one? Perhaps geriatric palate pleasing rhubarb or some other horrifying hot mess flavor? I guess I am aware of the one with cream in the middle. Those are okay, but a bit flashy for my old soul sensibilities. If I wanted zazz I’d go to a laser light show! Werther’s, all I need is that originally delicious take on caramel.

Googles Werther’s

Sweet Jesus in a cowboy hat! It’s like someone spilled water on a bag of Werther’s. Subsequently, it fell over and writhed in pain. Screaming the entire time as its back moved like seven chihuahuas fighting in a sleeping bag. In short, it made a scene. Then, and repeatedly, upwards of twenty times, various flavors, textures, and takes on the great original flavor shot out of that poor little bag like coked out popcorn gone wild. Speaking of which, there is also a caramel popcorn version.

There are soft ones and ones that look like snausages! Different flavors such as coffee and whatever that light colored one* taste like. There’s even the much maligned pumpkin spice. Dear gahwd it’s a veritable cornucopia of flavors. A golden beige rainbow if you will.

You Can Take My Gun’s and My Feet…

Look, I love coffee, soft chewy caramel, and pumpkin spice, is most certainly my jam. However, I don’t need any of them. Not a single one of them can ever compare to the golden goodness that’s the original. My mind is made up and ain’t movin’.

Disagree with me if you want, but I don’t think anyone will.


Werther’s Originals, the official candies of the old at heart

 

 

*Man that light colored one is freaky, like some sort of cave-dwelling neutral evil cousin of the neutral good cousin that is the Original.

Windows 10: Three Updates Too Many


Windows 10

Windows 10 was given to me for free by Microsoft. I was one of those free upgrade from Windows 7 people. Which was kind of a downgrade really or so I hear. Quite a few folks seem to hate Windows 10. Some compare it to Vista, which is unfair and uncalled for. Some people think it has too many updates.

A few months ago I would have disagreed with all of them and sang Windows 10 praises. I would have been all, “What an awesome OS!” It’s snappy, powerful, easy to use. I liked the unifying features across, not only multiple devices, but also Android.

Three Updates Too Many

Then the first of three terrible updates happened. I don’t recall when the first happened, I think it started back in the fall of 2017. I don’t clearly remember because I didn’t know I would have to recall it at a later date.

My monitor wouldn’t wake up when my PC did. Well, it would for a few seconds and then it would say there was no input and go back to sleep. I thought it was the hardware. I swapped out monitors, graphics cards and RAM. Nothing helped. Then I discovered it was the power for the PCIe slot and it’s sleep patterns.

With that fixed, the next few months were great. Then March rolled around. My PC wanted to update, but it could never close the deal. If it didn’t restart five times a day, I had to hard boot it twice. It continually tried to update and failed. Worse yet, that update was causing all sorts of issues where USB devices would quit working. I know that because there were a lot of hits for cumulative update KB4088776. I disabled automatic updates and after a couple of weeks, a new update came along and fixed all those issues.

Then, a month later, Microsoft pooched pen inputs. Not only for Wacom devices, but even their very own Surface tablets. Open up Photoshop CC, zoom in, and try to paint. Instead of painting, the canvas gets yanked around to and fro. The fix?


Make a text file called, PSUserConfig.txt, put it in the path and fill it with the garbage below.

# Revert to WinTab

# This should be saved in your PS settings folder

# ie. C:Users[User Name]AppDataRoamingAdobeAdobe Photoshop CC 2014Adobe Photoshop CC 2014 Settings

#

UseSystemStylus 0


Oh, But Wait…

Because now the pressure sensitivity is dead! So, update your registry – it’s not as dicey as it sounds.


Win+R or Type cmd into the search bar.

Copy and Paste the following hot garbage into black and white command prompt window: a. reg add HKEY_CURRENT_USERSoftwareMicrosoftWindowsCurrentVersionPen

/v LegacyPenInteractionModel /t REG_DWORD /d 1 /f

Hit Enter


Linux For The Rest of Us

Somewhere between trying to be sold registry cleaners and being told to roll back the update*, I realized something. The last time I spent entire evenings, nay multiple evenings, trying to get something to work, I was using Linux. Specifically Ubuntu. I remember the sound not working, I got that to work. Then there was tablet pressure sensitivity. I may have given up at that point. I can’t recall if I ever got it to work or not.

I’ll leave it at, two free operating systems. Neither with working pressure sensitivity. If you want to spend evenings trying to get something to work that just should, or perhaps did, give either one a try. Windows 10: It’s like Linux, but with Photoshop.


Share this and if the fix worked for ya, “Holla!”

*Homey don’t play that.

Crossing The Street: Take One Of These


Crossing The Street

Crossing the street is a dangerous thing many of us take for granted. We stop and wait for the little man to tell us to go, look both ways before crossing the street, and then we step off the curb and into the rest of our lives. Which honestly may not be much longer than the next split second. Some car could run a light or whip around the corner and we may not be the wiser.

This is something that happens at the intersection by my work all the time. It’s a weird spot where two winding roads cross and there are straight and left turn lane combos. There’s also not a lot of street lights and a merge lane. One more thing, it’s in the middle of a hill. Some people are climbing others are coming down. I’ve almost been hit by a left turner and a red light runner.

It’s Dangerous To Go Alone Take One Of These.

I have friend, Olympia Von Schuttlesqoot, she’s been nearly hit three to four times in the last year alone. That’s crazy! Someone should write the city! Hey, don’t look at me, I’m already doing my part.

Anyway, Olympia, tired of nearly being hit by a car to death, decided to do something about it. She went out and bought a glow stick that she wears around her neck as she crosses this silly intersection. Some people think it’s so she can be easily seen while crossing the Devil’s Gap. However, I believe it’s so she can squeeze in one last dance party while she lays in a broken heap. Let the beat drop.

No, No, One Of These!

Instead of a glowstick, I chose a much better and more versatile item, a good looking person. Another friend, MccLanahan McGoodlooks, and I were out walking our dogs one day when we happened upon the cursed intersection. We stood and the dogs sat while we waited our turn to cross. There was some chatting, but I was more concerned with taking in my surroundings. I looked from left to right and repeated. He didn’t seem to care and carried the conversation. How could he not be concerned? Maybe he didn’t cross at this intersection much.

My thoughts were driven away as I zeroed in on a left turner. A woman in an SUV sat with her blinker on. Her mouth in a chewing fashion as her hand moved away from her mouth. She looked down, was she looking at her phone? Was she aware of us standing on this corner?

The light turned green. With trepidation, I let the dogs’ feet and my own move forward. MccLanahan stepped out and continued his story. I looked once more and that was when I saw it. The double take followed by the lingeringly lustful gaze. At that moment I realized a cosmic truth. An answer to my questions. She had seen us. MccLanahan wasn’t worried because he didn’t need to worry. Good looking people are always seen, even when crossing the street. If they aren’t, their homely friends typically take the brunt of the attack.

 


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The Bird’s The Word: I Forgot The Bird


The Bird’s The Word

The bird’s the word. Sometimes as I’ve gotten older, especially with all the added stress of adulting, I forget the bird. That means that I forget a word from time to time. A word that, much like a bird, flutters off when I approach.

A few days back I had such an incident and was having trouble remembering a word. This usually isn’t that big of a deal. A momentary lapse in memory and the word shows up. If not, I just use my internal thesaurus and find an acceptable replacement or spray words like a scatter gun, until people get the point. I did the latter.

Did I Say One? Better Make It Three.

In fact, I forgot a word three times in an eight hour period. Because for some reason I felt like using, the exact same word that I could not recall, couldn’t remember to save my life, in three different scenarios. Two of those instances were about the same topic so it’s understandable. The other one was about some other random topic.

Either way, all the conversations were about taking a couple of different things and putting them together. However, putting these things together and getting them to live in harmony is a bit of challenge. I said many sentences and words – oh how the conversations were going so well. Then like a fat kid tripping over the carpet on his run to the buffet for round two of mac and cheese, the conversation fell flat and immediately stopped. Everyone looked at me, the looks on their faces said, “What’s up with fatty?”

The Eagle Has Landed

I stood there silent like the wind had been knocked out me. There was stammering. Then, in the presence of mission critical failure, the deluge of words sprayed forth. Some were close, some weren’t. Hell, I even described what I was trying to say and people started blurting out suggestions. Marry is what we landed on, but it wasn’t the right word. These things being put together weren’t in love, they had differences. It was a hollow victory, a concession, it felt flat. Like drinking water that has sat in a glass for a day.

However, it did work. The conversation moved on and completed. I went on with life and came home. Around nine that night I was preparing coffee for the morning. While I was filling the carafe at the sink, I happened to look over at the coffee machine. In that instant, like a sucker punch of knowledge – BOOM! – I saw the word in my head. It’s time in the sin bin was up and was once again back out on the ice of my vocabulary. The bird’s the word and the bird’s name was reconcile!


I wrote most of this post back in March of 2016. I forgot all about it. When I read the post, I could remember the situation, couldn’t remember the word. For my sanity, I hoped that I had written the word in the post.

 

Featured Image by DAMIANUM CASTRUM from Pexels 

From Clintington: A League of Their Own

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Great post about a great movie.

There were so many GREAT movies in the 90s, some of them snuck past me. As much as I loved movies, I was busy. My first love was soccer and I had to make varsity and letter all 4 years. That doesn’t happen without obsession and practice. “A League of Their Own” was one such […]

via “Are you coming? See, how it works is, the train moves, not the station.” — Clintington on Film

 

I didn’t write this!

Featured Photo by: Stephanie Pombo