RPS-25

We're all familiar with the classic game, Rock Paper Scissors.

A certain individual has had enough free time to expand on the principle of this game, and create larger iterations of it.

He had come up with an RPS-15, which meant there were fifteen options to play in the game. For each one, it could beat 7 of the others and lose to 7 of the others.

Now, he has come up with an RPS-25, which has twenty-five different plays. Ridiculous. He explains it more on his website. It's pathetic, intriguing, and impressive all at the same time (especially the graphic he created explaining each possible outcome.)

http://www.umop.com/rps25.htm

I tried to insert this as a link and it didn't show up. It pissed me off.

Whoa. Deep.

Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

birthday gone by

Yesterday was my 22nd birthday. It was just another day really. I had a pleasant weekend, which included a K-State football game on Saturday and a visit to Wichita through Sunday. Gretchen and I had a few nice meals; I opened some presents (a Nintendo Gamecube and a Michael Graves’ Scrabble set among others).

Then, on Monday, my official b-day, it was another day at work, Yet, that was followed by an enjoyable get-together that evening. Aaron had some people over for the Chiefs football game, and when he found out it would coincide with my birthday, he promptly changed it to a football/birthday party. Pizza Hut and Michelob Light ruled the evening, as Brad and Bekka came over to help us celebrate. There was some domination in Catchphrase before the night was over. In the end, a successful birthday indeed.

Tonight, it’s back to reality. After work, I’ll have to take care of some necessities in life, including setting up a dentist’s appointment, doing laundry, checking the oil in my car, and cleaning my room. Another important task, for Aaron and I both, is to help finish the “torpedo” of Michelob Light that we picked up last night. With poor help from the football fans (only Aaron, Brad, and I helped to tackle the torpedo last night, no pun intended), Aaron and I have to noble task of finishing it off this evening. And it shall be done.

In other news, the baseball season is really exciting right now. There are only two teams guaranteed playoffs spots right now, with roughly six games to play. Four teams in the hunt play each other the final weekend. Basically, it will be a playoff series to get into the playoffs. That’s good stuff. Still, in the end, the Cardinals will final win a World Series that’s been due to them (23 years, I think; that’s older than I am). Go Cards.

Secondly, I’m in no position to chastise people for lack of blog entries (I went through a spurt where I didn’t blog for weeks), but I have a listen of friends who have blogs that I check upon frequently, and some of those have been sitting a long time without a new entry. I understand a busy schedule, or a feeling of apathy, or writer’s block too, I just thought I’d give a bit motivation, in hopes that maybe that’s just what you needed to get writing again. Feel free to mock and belittle me, if that would help spark some of your creative juices.

And in the end, you probably wonder why I’m blogging at this hour of the morning (obviously I’m at work). Well, after my boss and I had a chat last Friday, saying I should be “aggressive” when it comes to pursuing work (from others in the office), since that’s the position I’m in currently. I’m still learning, and will be for a while I’m sure. I was accepting tasks from Bob Gregory, the piping operations manager, but David seemingly was giving me the green light to go pursue work from Gene, sheet metal operations manager, and Steve, loft project manager. Yet, currently, I’m in a lull, simply because they are all absent at this moment. So, I can drum up some work to occupy myself after this writing, and I will do my best to be “aggressive,” as David said (though David can be a smooth-talking motivator type). I think once I start estimating, meaning doing takeoff on a drawing with the cool digitizer board and pen, I will start fitting better into the company. Patience is key. I think it takes anywhere from three to six months to get situated in any particular work atmosphere. And we’ll see how it goes. I’m just going to soak up all the mechanical contracting I can and take it from there.

interesting developments

At the risk of becoming a one-topic blog, I must again mention Ween. This shall be the last for a while, I promise.

Anyway, I was excited about the Ween show coming up in Lawrence on 11/29/05. I knew tickets were first on sale this past Saturday at 10 AM. I ended up trying to buy once Sunday around noon at the K-state bookstore (I was in Manhattan for the weekend), but the young lady didn't know how to connect to the Ticketmaster server. No worries yet. After returning to Kansas City that night, i tried again to order tickets, this time online. My credit card was rejected for no good reason. Four times. (I have no current balance, and as far as I know, it hasn't been stolen). This led into a vexing Monday, where I tried once by phone and again by internet. This time the response was far more dire. It seemed the tickets sold out. I was completely bummed. All because of various obstacles (none of which was my negligence to attempt to buy tickets), I was now planning on not attending that Lawrence show.

Monday night, I decided that, well, Omaha isn't that far. Ween is having a show in Omaha, Nebraska on Tuesday evening. A lot of driving for one show, and what is sure to be a drag-ass Wednesday morning, after getting back at probably 2 or 3 AM, but we should all ask ourselves "would I drive six hours round-trip in night to see [insert your favorite band here]?" I answered yes, and ordered tickets for Gretchen and myself. (As an aside, and a bit of trivia, back in May 2003, Gretchen and I traveled to Columbia, MO for a Ween show, round trip about 8 hours. Of course, we could sleep in the next day, classes be damned. As a bonus bit of trivia, Dan Typaldos was planning on attending this concert with us, yet due to a late night in studio, found his car to be wearing a "boot," and for reasons I still don't fully understand, decided to pass on the concert opportunity).

The interesting development occurred today. I had a little downtime at work (much like at this moment) and thought, "what the hey, I'll check Ticketmaster online for the Lawrence show." Sure enough, like Murphy's Law come to life, tickets were aplenty. Well, non-refundable means non-refundable, so Gretchen and I are going to Omaha. But, then I pondered, while growing slightly ecstatic at the thought, TWO Ween shows in TWO nights? What a concept.

The one catch to the plan, and I feared it, was Gretchen herself. She enjoys Ween to an extent, but if I had to guess, I would equate her love for Ween (my favorite band) to my love for fondue (one of her favorite foods). I like it every once in awhile, but I wouldn't want it every night. Same for her and Ween, I would guess. Yet, at lunch today, I offered up to her an "exciting proposition." She was not enthralled initially at the idea, but as she saw the joy in my eyes....she reluctantly said, "whatever you want to do." What a woman! For me, she will endure 6 combined hours of live music (even though their live show rules) and 7 combined hours of driving (along with probably 5 or 6 hours of sacrificed sleep), just so I can enjoy my favorite band. That is a sacrifice much appreciated.

And as for me, BOOM! Two Ween shows. I'm psyched, needless to say. Yes, a little pricey for the four tickets total, but I at least find it to be money well-spent.

the wisdom of Ween

I talk about several topics frequently, including Scrabble and Ween, my favorite band. I do this because they are awesome.

I just wanted to post a few quotes from a couple interviews I read recently. It’s further proof why I think they’re badasses, musically and socially.

“You really have to search, if you're a teenager, for real music, 'cause you're not gonna get it on the radio. . . It's shit. A lot of these rock acts are made over to be aggressive-looking, like Limp Bizkit with their tattoos, but it's no different from Christina Aguilera. Johnny Rotten wouldn't piss on these guys if they were on fire." – Dean Ween

“When we write music now, it's not like we have to be doing drugs or anything. Now, we do more insidious drugs. It's just like pills and booze.” – Gene Ween

“I mean, our music generally appeals to children and retarded people, and I'm into that. In a way, we've been making children's records for years.” – Gene Ween

Everyone have a nice weekend. I’m heading to K-State to meet some friends for the weekend. And have a brew or two. Maybe play some badminton.

revisiting the Europe trip

Europe was fun. A few photos to bring back some memories.


man, did i love this look


fine name for a hotel, wouldn't you say?


brushing up on my botany


the bone church in kutna hora, czech republic. no, really, it's decorated with human bones. commence freaking out.

good times, indeed.

shared interests

A quick spurt of blog before I charge into the workday.

I’m currently reading a biography about Jimi Hendrix, the famous musician and badass. It’s a slightly depressing story, at least at this point, where his success and happiness has been replaced by hangers-on taking his money and legal battles involving his manager and even a court case involved drugs that were found in his luggage at an airport (twice, both supposedly planted by random “fans”). It is interesting to find out sides of a story that you haven’t heard before though.

Something I read last night, though, piqued my interest thoroughly. The line in the book said “his myriad interests included science fiction, art, history, politics, football, chess, and any board game that called for quick thinking. A lot went on in his head.”

I immediately got excited after reading this. “Any board game that called for quick thinking” definitely could refer to my favorite board game, Scrabble! So, basically, we could assume Jimi Hendrix enjoyed and played Scrabble. Just like me.

Also, I found out my younger brother has the same birthday as Hendrix did. Small world.

damn it, lost the post

Damn it.

I just wrote a post for a whole fifteen minutes, went to preview, tried to come back, and fucking lost the whole thing. That peeves me. It was quite riveting. I spoke of beer, people who are in their sixth year of college, board games, online Scrabble, visiting the guitar store this weekend, and how I had sardines for lunch (and am trying to eat vegetarian for a while, to try to lose a little weight, since it worked for my friend Dirty Dave. and i'll exercise too.)

All I can do now is offer you this:



Ken Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang.

debauchery and domination

It was a good Labor Day weekend. And there's nothing like a short workweek to come back to.

Gretchen and I drove to St. Louis Friday after work. There were the requisite backups in Kansas City, mainly at the exits where people were heading down to the lake for the holiday weekend. After penetrating those clogs, we were plugging along.

Our first task was to pick up my brother Anthony, and his girlfriend Stacy(i?)(ie?), and friend Scott from the Chaminade football game. Prior to that, though, Gretchen and I had a chance to stop for a late dinner (we did snack on Bugles, pretzels, and Kit Kats in the car fortunately). Of course, we chose to go to DEL TACO, the finest fast-food mexican in the land, and only seven minutes from Chaminade. I indulged in two chicken soft tacos (with the heavenly secret sauce), and an order of deluxe chili cheddar fries (mmmmm, fries, chili, cheese, tomatoes, onions). Gretchen went with a cheese quesadilla and a carne asada lime salsa taco, or something like that. Like a classic Del Taco run should be, it took an excessively long time to get the order, and it was greasy to the point of feeling wet after you finish eating. But, that's what makes it so wonderful.

We then drove on over to Chaminade and caught the last two minutes of the game. They lost to Sumner, 23-17 (I think). Anthony was nowhere to be found, so we called a cell phone they had to track them down. Finally, they appear out of a dark corner, obviously doing something they shouldn't have been doing. As we walk to the car, the kids (at least, kids relative to my age) were loud and obnoxious, as teenagers usually are.

Gretchen, being the more observant one than I (at least it was demonstrated in this instance), noted a certain, bum-like smell coming from their general direction. No, not nasty B.O., but more like cheap booze. Yes, in this blog, is my first accusation towards Anthony and said confidants of underage drinking. You heard me, Anthony. (He is one of my faithful readers.) You may have thought you could pull one over on me, but you weren't banking on Gretchen, with her acute senses of sight and smell. (I have excellent hearing, at least I say I do.) So, we trucked these drunken sots home. Dropped Scott off at his house, ran home to our house to grab Stacy's stuff, and then dropped her off. In the end, quite an evening. I don't condone your substance abuse, Anthony. It's a foul habit. Keep it up, and you'll end up like John Iffrig. That should be warning enough.

After the night of delinquency, the weekend took a pleasant turn. Saturday morning, the family took a trip to the St. Louis Zoo. Nothing wrong with a day at the zoo, checking out the carmine bee-eaters (badass sounding, but really just these little birds) and the penguins. Penguins rules, if you didn't know. St. Louis has one of the few penguin exhibits in the US (I think, though I did just make that up. It seems like a relatively rare exhibit, that's all.) The ones who really enjoyed the trip and picnic lunch were Emma, my 5-year-old niece, and Olivia, 2, my niece and goddaughter.

In the afternoon, I had a chance to own Anthony in NFL 2k5 football, beating him 27-17. Following the trend, Patrick, my older brother, called me and challenged me to some racquetball (this had been a war of words for many years; finally, a showdown would take place). We went to his YMCA, I signed in as guest, and away we went. The trend I referred to was TOTAL DOMINATION. I'm a humble winner, don't get me wrong, especially when I could tell Patrick was off his r-ball game. (He's also the type who gets PEEVED when he's playing poor. The expletives bounced off the walls much like the ball itself.) I beat him in five games, 15-10, 15-0, 15-2, 15-9, 15-6. Yet, we had fun, and I could tell he has the skills to challenge me the next time we play.

Later that night, Gretchen and I joined up with some of my friends from high school. We hung out in their new loft (though the air conditioning was broke; the word SCORCHING was never so appropriate). A few beers and hands of Speed Uno later, we called it a night.

Sunday was church, followed by another sporting competition. This time, it was golf with my Aunt Beth (aka Aunt Annika) and Patrick. It wasn't as hot as I thought it would be, and I hadn't played 18 holes in awhile, but I BLEW. 66 on the front, 68 on the back nine. A pitiful 134. I putted awfully. Aunt Beth won, based on low score, but we also played this game called "Bingo, Bango, Bongo" while keeps track of first on the green, closest to pin, and first in the hole. It's a way to have fun competition even if, skill-wise, the players aren't that well-matched. In the end, golf is frustrating, but occasionally fun. First place: Aunt Beth. Second: Patrick. Then me. Life goes on. (I'm not as competitive as you think.)

Saturday night was some bowling with Ron and Patty way up in Norco. It was expensive, but the lounge seating was sweet. Lucky Strike Lanes. Check it out.


And Monday, there was the traditional barbecue, though young man Anthony Lagasse manned the grill. He's got potential, that's for sure. Burgers and brats, along with AB's (Aunt Beth's nickname) potato salad and some greeen casserole, made for a good meal. I was stuffed to say the least. After that, we said our goodbyes and cruised on back to KC. The drive was uneventful. Nothing wrong with that. Though it was spiced up by the ultra-conservative talk show host Michael Savage. I enjoy listening to him, and though I consider myself conservative, he is over-the-top on a lot of issues. It's still worth a laugh to listen to, though. I'm sure you liberals, or "red diaper doper babies" as Savage says, would enjoy hearing what he has to say.


And now, back to the short workweek. I can already smell Friday.

weekend

Labor Day weekend! A day off of work. Ever since I started working, I have learned to appreciate the weekend, that's for sure. The weekend is as delicious as a frothy, piping-hot crab bisque on a cold winter's day.

I'm going to St. Louis for the weekend to see the family. Various activities include: going to the zoo with nieces, playing some golf, playing some racquetball, playing some video games, eating, possibly playing some Home Run Derby, relaxing, and napping.

And I'm getting ready to leave work. (Fridays are bad enough, motivation-wise, but the Friday before Labor Day weekend? That's, like, negative motivation.)

Have a good three-day weekend.

Jimi

I thought I'd regale you for a moment (especially because I wanted to use the word "regale") while I speak about the long-donged Jimi Hendrix.

I have been listening to the one record of his that I have at this moment, Are You Experienced?, though I do plan on asking for some of his other discs for the b-day and Christmas. And the album is scorchin'. I enjoy the guitar work in music more than any other aspect (though vocals usually have the "main stage" in a song if you will). And Jimi Hendrix was one of the best guitar players. Ever. And he played left-handed. So, he might be another inspiration if I decide to take up the axe. (He was so badass he played a right-handed guitar left-handed.)

He died young at 27, of a barbiturate overdose, I believe. It will have been 35 years ago on September 18.

I don't know; I'm not really philosophical in any way, but I find him to be an icon. To me, his music had such a distinct sound. Yes, you could put your finger on the era, but I don't think The Jimi Hendrix Experience sounded like anyone else then or now.

One of my favorite musicians, and badasses, Jimi Hendrix. (Trivia note: the last house I lived in, we had neighbors up the street who had two daughters, Lana and Jimi. And she had to have been named after him. Trust me, if you had see these flower children, you would agree.)