You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘idiocy’ category.

Due to the inattention this blog has been getting from our flaxen-haired hero, I will interject from time to time to make sure that you, the fair reader, is properly apprised of our Tim’s activities. Where shall I begin? Shall we talk about the dos-carnes-fajitas with cucumber lemonade that Tim prepared last night? Or, the near-identity theft that befell our hero until the bank error in his favor, collect $1000 (oh wait, that was his) was discovered?

Let’s go a little further back to a few weekends ago, when we ventured to Tennessee. Why go to that god-worshipped-yet-foresaken land, you ask? I ask my parents that very question almost daily as an adult looking back on an embittered childhood, to which they mumble something about a pension and food. Turns out, my dear Amy was getting married to Brian, which warranted a trip to the country of rolling hills and pudgy bellies. Tim caught up on his sweettea drinking and grits eating. Here’s a shot of me with Susan and Jennie with our Amy, taken by Tova, the wedding photographer:

The second picture features Tim’s mom and sister who both happened to converge upon Chicago this past weekend because of two separate and very different conferences. Those stories are not really mine to share. Going through old pictures of our Tim brings hearty laughter to many, especially remembering the “fancy clothes period” where our Tim insisted on wearing sweater vests around the streets of St. Peter.

Otherwise, our hero has been in good spirits. In this update, it would be remiss of me not to mention our hero’s new workout regimen guided by his new personal Y trainer, “Tracy.” Previously, I often found him red-faced and grunting at the sit-up machine trying to build the biggest stomach muscle ever by piling on the most weights. Hopefully, some professional guidance will help direct his efforts more productively.


I’m back!  The run is done and my four day vacation to beautiful, sunny Seattle (every day I was there at least) is behind me.  I did a red eye and slept in, followed by a trip downtown to study and do a little shopping.  After getting off the blue line at Jackson I queued up some neutral milk hotel and started my little downtown journey.  Around track 8 I realized that the buildings were getting smaller.  I turned around and saw the Sears tower (essentially the western border of downtown) in the distance.  D’oh!  I guess I lost myself in the music and got turned around.  I walked all the way back and then some and settled down with a cup of mate.  After a little bit of work and some shopping (art supplies!) I decided to go home.  I had a general idea of where the blue line was, but after getting lost this morning I managed to walk right by the station.  Again.  Fortunately, I turned back east at the Chicago river and found the station and jumped on a convenient train that pulled up just as I was walking down the stairs.  I put the headphones in, cranked up some enon, and started reading a new yorker (the cartoon issue!).  About half an hour later, at the end of the express line, I realized I was on the wrong train.  After taking a pink line back to the loop, I got on the correct train, and–finally–got back home.  The end.

Another computer ailment has befallen our protagonist. This time, it appears to have happened beyond his general incompetence. The nubby part that connects the power cord to his laptop has broken, again shutting out our Timothy from the internets. Will he be reconnected? Will he write witty things for us again? The first is likely in the next week or so.

In the meantime, let me occupy you with a picture: The Polite Lester


Yesterday, when I realized that I could not close my freezer door through the inches of accumulated ice, I decided it was time to defrost it. With a cleaver. It was sort of satisfying hacking the blocks of ice off the sides and I found some buried porkchops, which is the best sort of surprise. I was getting to the end, cutting my way through the minor glacier on the back wall when I heard an auspicious PSSSSSS from inside. I punctured my freezer and it was out-gassing lots of nasty stuff (it’s an old one). I freaked out and unplugged it–was I going to have to pay for a new fridge? I called my landlord with some trepidation, but I had photographic evidence that the freezer was intolerably frosty and that any sane person would taken a cleaver to it. (that one above was supposed to be my victory shot, when I was almost done) I told her what happened and she apologized and said she’d send a new one over on Tuesday. I never even got to my clever cleaver argument. So I guess the moral of the story is…if you want something fixed or replaced, just hit it with a cleaver until your super agrees to replace it. Tomorrow I’m doing my sink and the toilet.

homersimpson.gifIf you hadn’t heard already, I managed to spill a cup of coffee on my laptop a few days ago.

Fucking soaked it.

My first impulse was to drain it by flipping it on its side, turning it over (actually my 0th impulse was too hop around in circles, wagging my hands, and whimper) Admittedly that was sort of satisfying since it did drain quite a bit of coffee. As I was doing that it turned back on by accident, leading to much relief. I happily packed up my coffee resistant laptop and headed for school. Once I got there, I consulted the wisdom of the internet and it told me that everything I had done so far was horribly (horribly!) WRONG. Really quite inept. So I freaked and tried to air dry the computer guts with a freakin’ air hose in the machine shop..(taking apart a computer is apparently is a no-no for those of you with warranties…It was almost as bad as when I tried to fix my roommate’s vcr, when I was a freshman in college, and I took it apart, put it back together and had 20 or so screws left over. Let’s all be glad I never enrolled in med school, cuz I would be the guy getting amputees mixed up and shit: “oh, your left!”)

…the only smart thing I’ve done is to take everything off the hard-drive. Lately, the computer comes on, oh, 40% of the time, 20% of the keys work, and it smells alluringly of sumatra. I tried calling the acer corporation and the automated system said I had seventy..nine..minutes to talk to someone. At this point, I’m going to try this place in Ballard and if that doesn’t work, I might get a new one. Those X60‘s look mighty nice…but expensive.