Friday Photoblog: "Well, That's (not) Just Prime" Edition

The Hasbro Studios Panel at BotCon 2010.
(You know how you used to have Discovery Kids on your cable lineup?

You don't anymore, and these guys are a small part of 'why'.)

(Watch The Hub!)

You're Supposed to be DONE!

Isn't it supposed to be spring? Yes? Okay then--WHY THE HELL IS THERE SIX INCHES OF SNOW IN MY DAMN YARD?! It's supposed to be over--finished!

I guess the hell not. Fucking winter.


Pic from here.

Dear Victoria Jackson,

Please, shut the fuck up.

I am serious, SHUT THE FUCK UP. You sicken me. Go drink from the fire hose or go look at Mr. Frying Pan.

Dammit, this casts a horrible pall on UHF, which is one of my favorite movies. Now whenever I see it, I'm going to start shouting at Weird Al, "You're better off without that stupid twit!"

And people wonder why I'm praying for the Robot Apocalypse.

--Weasel, "I don't think that the robots will be as fucked up in the head as humans are..."

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY

Shockingly enough, I got sick of seeing that three-word phrase over the course of the past four or five months. Don't get me wrong--I LIKE winter. Favorite season of the four. I LIKE it cold. It's more a case of being hype-sick...like the whole idiotic situation with Drift, except that in the case of the winter weather, the derision is deserved. Derision, here, is directed toward the ones blathering endlessly and needlessly about it. Granted, this is Wisconsin--blizzards in May are NOT an impossibility, not at all. But it lately seems that the overly made-up newsreaders and two-finger typing reporters are taking it to an extreme one would nominally expect in, shall we say, more southern states. (/unsubtle yet playful jab) Residents in those regions can be somewhat forgiven for a 'flake freakout, raiding grocery stores for every last gallon of milk and driving in a couple centimeters of slush like crazed carjackers--they don't know any better, as snow is such a relative rarity. Up here, there's no bloody excuse, yet the same seems to be happening--with frightening frequency, no less. (Certainly, they tend to drive like dumbasses during more temperate times, but in years past, people had responded to news of six-to-eight inches impending with an apathetic 'eh'.)

...

(Going back and reading the previous paragraph...sweet Primus, I think I've got to STOP reading Stan Lee's tweets. Maybe I got hit upside the head by a No-Prize or something. Tiptoeing its way into my typing, the alliteration is absolutely aggrav... ... ...AAGGHHK WHAT THE SLAG STOP IT NOW) o.O

...whatever, I'm not changing it. The point at which I was trying to arrive before derailing myself was that the overhype reaaaalllly needs stoppin'. As a rule, we Wisconsinites know to have our damn bags of salt, our shovels and snowblowers at hand, ready for use, so it'd be well appreciated to tone it the hell down when reporting the impending snowstorms. I'd like 'em to quit taking up so much newstime on 'em, or I'm gonna change the channel and watch an episode of the latest Power Rangers series or somethin', just to screw up their Nielsens...and I don't particularly care for Power Rangers.

Hm. Speaking of 'ready for use', I wonder if I'd better go buy a gallon-plus of that $3.499 gasoline for the ol' blower...then again, what's been falling is the kind of stuff that could choke damn near any unit. Looks like one of those Snoopy Sno-Cone Machines threw up all over the, uh, everywhere--

+++PRIME OUT+++

Adrenaline Rush!

BotCon pre-reg is up and a go!

Prime and I are already done, by the way...

--Weasel, trying to come down off the high

Just What the Professor Ordered

On March 7th, I was able to get my grubby hands on Pokémon Black.

Let me just say this: this has been a welcome distraction. I've needed this.

For the past several weeks, I've had the damnedest time trying to write. I'm serious: I know what I want to say, I know how I want to say it, but the words cannot come from my pen. I've only been able to get out a page and a half at most. For me, that's a huge fucking drought.

A few days ago, I started writing another piece, but before I did, I messed around with my copy of Black. After putting that away, I decided to write two pages, front to back. I only had forty-five minutes before I clocked in for the day. That was doable.

I wrote four. I couldn't stop. And I've been quickly filling in a sixth. You have no idea how good that feels.

In case you're wondering, this is easily the best Pokémon game to date. The newest additions to the franchise are incredible and I'm using Pokémon that I never thought I would ever have in my party. (A Rock type? A pure Fighting type? Never used them before, but I am totally in love with my Roggenrola and my Sawk. These guys kick more ass than should be allowed by law.) Never gotten into the series? Now's a really good time to start. But don't mind me; I'm just plugging the game, is all. :)

--Weasel, off to kick another Gym leader's ass and catch another awesome 'mon...

Ugh...

I'll put something more substantial up here later; right now I feel like slag.

--Weasel, "Gonna go collapse now."

Friday Photoblog: "DAAAAAMMMMMMMIIIITTTT!!" Edition

Inside Bumblebee's Hall of Fame display case at BotCon 2010. Very self-explanatory.

(I probably won't have to fight a LEGION if this ever shows up on eBay,

but there's aaaalllways someone with a bigger slagging pocketbook, you know...)

Friday Photoblog: "Abandon all Hope...All of It, Right Now" Edition

A quick shot of the welcome (or warning) sign at the entrance to the Autobot Alliance Academy area at BotCon 2010.
(I graduated.)

Friday Photoblog: "Micro Machines" Edition

A female cosplayer, dressed as Blurr, in the Dolphin's lobby at BotCon 2010.
(...Blurr is...um...kinda hot... o.O )

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: 2.5" x 3.5"

Waterlog (yeah, a new name every time!) has certainly thrown herself full-throttle into baseball fandom.

We just ordered delivery of the baseball cards she garnered by entering Million Card Giveaway codes from Topps (mostly from the 2010 Update series, which consists of players traded or rookies who made their Major League debut during the course of the season; they cover the All-Star Game, too, which is something they didn't do back when I was initially collecting and it was simply called the Traded set). Participants could actually trade the cards they acquired with other participants to get cards they would find more desirable than what they had, which is pretty damn cool. Waterlog had a series of trades maintained right up to the end of the MCG promo, offering several cards (one or two of which were more valuable than what she wanted) in exchange for one of Bob Uecker's cards from the 1960s. She really wanted his Braves card, but would've taken a Cardinals or Phillies. Nobody bit at those, unfortunately, but somebody did take a 5-for-1 she offered in order to get Trevor Hoffman's rookie card--sure, it's a card I already have by way of owning the entire 1993 Topps Baseball set, but she wanted one of her own, and now it's coming. 'Inordinately happy' would be a good way of describing her state of mind immediately after finding out the result, yes.

(I think I've a single of it around, too, but good luck finding it...)

The MCG promo ends tomorrow, but that's not the end of this sort of thing for Waterlog--Topps is celebrating its Diamond Anniversary with--well, pretty much the same thing, but with diamond rings 'n stuff. She's around 50 cards from completing 2011 Series One, and has some cards lined up for her on the new promo site (nobody mega-special, and trading won't be available for awhile yet)...man, I dunno how far it'll go. Collectible cards of ANY stripe began getting kind of expensive when I was originally collecting, which was a big portion of the reason why I stopped for the most part in 1995; it has not gotten any better in the years since, obviously.

(I blame and name Stadium Club; a specialty card series, then, that became the forerunner of what we get as a matter of course today. Maybe I'm showing my age--blah blah blah 40¢ for a pack of 14, they were only a little glossy on one side blah blah holy cow and postage stamps went up to a quarter OH NOES...wait, I'm not allowed to do this sort of thing until I'm sixty? Dammit.)

IN ANY CASE, true then and now, it's naturally far cheaper to buy the complete base set when it's released and chase down any wanted insert cards (something ELSE that didn't really exist until the early 1990s; now where're my trifocals?!) on their own as they are made available (eBay, for the most part)...but she's having fun doing it exactly the way I used to do it--pack by pack. I'd be remiss if I didn't point that fact out, but I'd be a real dick to take that fun away from her.

Guess I'll just stick to jokingly grousing after having dinner at a nice restaurant. "$43.65? Well, that was a Leader-class Transformer. Or three Deluxes and a Scout..."--

+++PRIME OUT+++

Friday Photoblog: "I Dared" Edition

"Weird Al" in the Dealer Room at BotCon 2009.
(Yes, yes, I know, how can you tell from the back? Just trust me.)

Wreck and Rule!

Watching the Daytona 500. Before you plotz, I'm just doing this for the Wreckers.

......

Holy shit! New DOTM trailer! 'Bee looks badass!

Hrrm. Topspin spun out of the race early, Roadbuster got busted up near the end, and Leadfoot took 6th. Some 20-year-old goober won. Feh.

--Weasel, waiting for Earth to go dark...

Friday Photoblog: "Buzz Off" Edition

A snoozing honeybee, spotted before the Universal Studios tour at BotCon 2009.
(Poor little guy seemed pretty out of it; it was a nippy morning.)

The Oprah Thing...

...yes, it's the reason I'm not blogging as much. Just when you think you're starting to move forward...*BLAM!* Twelve steps back.

Friday Photoblog: "Crowd Control" Edition

The crowds at the 'Con. From BotCon 2009.
(I love organized chaos...)

...it's twenty plus days too damn long, is what...

As you may (or may not) know, two new Pokemon games will be hitting the shelves in March.

It goes without saying that I am chomping at the bit to lay hands on a copy of Black. I am absolutely going crazy here with this wait.

Now, with every generation of Pokemon, I've played favorites. There's always been at least one that has caught my eye and made me, for whatever reason, fall in love with it. It may be because it's cute, or I think it looks really cool or whatever. In any case, I know I have to have this little twerp on my team, no matter what.

In Generation one it was Eevee and Mew. In the Second gen, I went more for power and fell in love with Lugia. In the Third gen I fell hard for Latias and Latios. Fourth gen brought me the awesome known as Palkia. Fifth gen has shown that it is no exception. The games haven't even dropped yet and I'm already in love with a couple of new Pokemon. Only this time, I'm not going crazy for a some random Legendary.

Sure, I adore Reshiram, but it's these guys who have captured my attention. What Pokemon have me frothing at the mouth, waiting eagerly for this game's arrival? They are Gobitto and Goruugu.

Gobitto is just freaking adorable; I mean, all I want to do is cuddle the little bugger and coo over how cute it is. But Goruugu, oh man, Goruugu... can we say "giant honkin' robot"? Yes, we can! And we all know just how much I love me some giant honkin' robots. Seeing this kind of awesome only makes the wait so much worse.

I've got until March the freaking sixth. Honestly, I don't think I can wait that long. I'm going nuts already.

--Weasel, needing her Pokecrack like three months ago...

...and somewhere, Brett Favre is taking an angry dump in his Depends...

As everyone knows, the Green Bay Packers won the Super Bowl last night. But here's an interesting bit of trivia that was brought up during the postgame show: Aaron Rodgers not only won the damn game, but got the MVP award.

Brett Favre won the Super Bowl but never got an MVP. And for some reason, that just makes me smile.

Yes, I'm evil. I fully admit it now.

--Weasel, hoping the drama queen from Mississippi will finally go the hell away!

Friday Photoblog: "All Star" Edition

Prince Fielder, looking awesome.
(Miller Park, a warm summer night, cheese fries in a helmet with Secret Stadium Sauce... Heaven...)

Free Snow

Anybody want any? We've got a slag-ton. Help yourself.

--Weasel, glad she's not in Chicago.

"Put Me In, Coach"

I am ready to play.

I'm currently watching MLB Network and wishing today was Sunday and not Monday. Brewers On Deck was a blast.

Prime and I got a bit of a late start heading down to Milwaukee; we finally arrived at quarter to eleven. We headed in, I got a couple of lotto tickets for autographs (Yovanni Gallardo and Ryan Braun). Then Prime and I hit the main attraction.

I headed over to Randy Wolf's line, paid my $10 and pulled out one of my baseball cards. Thankfully I was able to get Mr. Wolf's autograph right away; I was one of the last in line. After him was Craig Counsell. Got in that line, but I was near the back. Prime popped over while I was waiting and snagged a few of my cards for a few other autographs. While he was there, the winning lotto numbers were posted. I didn't get a chance at Ryan Braun but made it for Yovanni Gallardo. Awesome.

After getting Mr. Counsell's sig (he's a majorly awesome guy) I got in line for Yovanni Gallardo. Here's where memories of BotCon started to surface: jumping in one autograph line to the next. But it was fun.

I got Mr. Gallardo's sig and managed to catch up with Prime, who, after standing in line for an interminable interval to purchase a couple of grab bags, had managed to get autographs from Casey McGehee, LaTroy Hawkins, and Manny Parra. By now it was nearly 2 PM and we were planning on where to go and what to do next. As we were chatting, we saw a large line and asked someone near the end for whom they were waiting.

It was a line for John Axford. I immediately hopped in because there was no slagging way I was going to miss the Axman's sig. He is too awesome to miss.

Yeah, I waited in that line for damn near an hour and a half before we were allowed into the main queue. Prime ran and grabbed us some food, then disappeared into the team store for a bit...after he checked my shirt size.

When he came back, he was holding a reusable Brewers bag. According to Prime, he bought it for slags and giggles; there was nothing in it. I believed him...at first. Then he set the bag down and I heard a 'clink'.

Prime had to admit that he simply didn't buy a bag. He got a little something for my birthday and since I had sussed that out, he gave it to me a few months early.

Prime bought me a game used baseball. As in, it was used, hit and thrown during an actual game. It's dirty, covered in the clay of Miller Park but it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

I nearly cried. I'm not kidding you. I held that acrylic case with its precious cargo and had to fight back tears. Best. Gift. Ever.

True story: As we're still standing in Axford's line, Corey Hart walks by. We all yelled and waved. He smiled and waved back. In case you wonder: Corey Hart is really cute in person. Seriously, he is incredibly cute.

After the longest wait of my life, I got John Axford's autograph. Oh my Primus, it was so worth it! He is beyond awesome! XD

By now it was nearly 4 and things were winding down. So Prime and I decided to go ahead and make an early start on the return trip. After we got a few more pics, of course, and I managed to sneak in and get Wil Nieves's autograph on a photocard in the midst of that. I was exhausted but elated when we got to the car.

The trip back was uneventful and all too brief. I was glad to be home, but more than a little sad the day was over. It was a lot of fun, getting autographs and chatting with people. Prime, you gave me a great anniversary present last month. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Love ya, big guy.

Now begins the excruciating wait for Spring Training and Opening Day. As of right now, I really don't want to see any more snow at all. My brain is stuck in spring, thank you very much.

--Weasel, "April to October, baby. Ain't nothin' like it."

Road Trip!

By the time everyone is up and reading this, I will be in Milwaukee, attending Brewers On Deck. Expect pics and a half-assed report later.

--Weasel, "Let's go Brewers!"

Back To (Semi) Normal

The last few weeks have been a bit trying, to put it gently. Things have gotten crazy at work and adjusting to this "new normal" hasn't been all that easy.

On the work front, there have been massive changes and even more massive rumors swirling about. Our door greeters have now been reduced to working from 10am to 10pm. If you're a cashier that's on the GM self-checks, ten to one you'll be watching the GM doors. Yeah, like you don't have enough to do watching four slagging lanes. Whatever. But that's not the worst of it. The rumor is that we'll be getting rid of the door greeters altogether. Meaning, cashiers will have to keep an eye on things. Even worse, the rumors are swirling about that we'll also see the cartpushers go the way to the dinosaur. Who will go out and take care of the lots? You guessed it: Cashiers and ICS associates.

Yeah, I'm not running around pushing carts in below zero weather. Or blazing heat, for that matter. It ain't happening.

So I keep editing my work, hoping for the best. I'm at the midpoint of a fourth notebook, which is one of the things that's keeping me sane. But at this point, I don't know how long this will last.

--Weasel, "I love my job. I love my job. I love my--oh who the fuck am I kidding?!"

Friday Photoblog: "Sweet Georgia Brown" Edition

The Harlem Globetrotters' star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. From BotCon 2009.
(I'll put something a bit more substantial up here on Saturday... I hope.)

Friday Photoblog: "Room With a View" Edition

The view from the Dolphin at Walt Disney World. From BotCon 2010.
(Temps are waaaaaaaaaaaay below freezing today. I could use some heat and humidity!)

Friday Photoblog: "This Cold is Kickin' My Ass" Edition

Aaron Archer, holding a shot of pure cuteness. From the Hasbro tour, 2007.
(Got a freaking head cold right now. It's really hard to keep my eyes open...)

"Have no fear! Once again I will save the day!"

Not anymore. (sigh) Somewhere out there, a squad of Autobots is missing its Lieutenant Commander.

Aron Kincaid, the voice behind Generation One's mighty and sophisticated Sky Lynx, has passed away. My heart and the heart of every oldschool TransFan goes out to his family and friends. The man played probably the most magnificent bastard of a Cybertronian ever, a character who did everything big and with grand showmanship--and had no problem making sure that you knew it.

Prime picked up an Encore-series reissue of the Sky Lynx toy ('reissue' being a bit of a misnomer to Japan collectors, who didn't get the toy back in the 80s) at some past convention. It was well within sight when Prime told me the news last night. I think I hugged that toy for a good hour, trying not to cry.

Some days, I think I ought to just say 'screw it' and see about moving to the L.A. area, else I'm never going to meet very many more of the people who helped, in ways large or small, to shape my childhood. (I have to face it, as great as BotCon is, the people behind it have a time of it in trying to get new guests. Seems like even holding it in Pasadena only imparts a bit more leeway.)

Wonder what Prime would say about such a move. Probably, the phrase 'I don't think so', in his best Rhinox voice, would be used...

--Weasel, "We miss you, Commander Modesty." (/sad grin)

Friday Photoblog: "Wish You Were Here!" Edition

A view of the surrounding city, as seen from Universal Studios Hollywood. From BotCon 2009.
(Headin' back to Cali this year. Can't wait.)

Five Degrees of Pissed Off

As of this very moment, it is taking every bit of restraint in my body not to throw my stupid mouse across the room.

I was doing a few rewrites and edits to my work and thought I had saved. Or rather, I was attempting to save when the fucking mouse pulled the "What the fuck, you don't need this shit open anymore" bullshit that it's been pulling for the past few weeks. So my file was closed out. Before I could save.

When I reopened the file, I could see the word count was off.

There went a thousand words and a shit-ton of tweaking on my part. I'm surprised I'm not mute right now, I howled so loudly. (Oh, and I have a chest cold. That'll do wonders for my slagging voice.)

Prime's pretty much under orders: New mouse. Now.
No, I have zero desire to use the damned touchpad; that's the little fucker who "helped" reformat my work several weeks ago without me asking. That was damn near a week of cursing I'd rather forget.

Here's hoping Prime can do something with Auto Recover. If not, I'm fucked. And doing this shit again tomorrow. :grumble:

--Weasel, "Me, the old mouse and a sledgehammer. That's all the hell I'm asking for..."

Out With the Old

Okay 2010, get out of here already! We're tired of you!

--Weasel, "Bring on 2011!"

Friday Photoblog: "Make-Up, Please!" Edition

An unpainted Robot Heroes Bumblebee prototype, spotted in the Hasbro case at BotCon 2007.
(Hey, Hasbro? I hope you gave him a good home. If you don't want him, I'll take him. Hint, hint...)

And So It Goes...

Currently listening to: Who's Theme*

Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. Usually by this time, I'm in full-on Nostalgia mode, not wanting the year to end as it always seems to go too fast.

That's not the case this time.

tsuretette
anata no basho e
kaze ni natte
iki wo hisomete
tsuretette
anata wa doko e
toki wo koe
kokoro hodoite

I want this year to end and I want it to end now. The last few months haven't been great, so I'd rather get through this slag and start looking forward to the future than get mired in the past.

yureru hi damari
shiroku tooku
ate mo shiranai
kioku hodoku
kaoru himawari imada ni chiranai
kinaga ni

Now, not everything about this year blew. I saw Trevor Hoffman's 600th save. I went to BotCon and hung out with my friends. I've all but completed a manuscript. And I spent another year with Prime. But the last two months haven't been so wonderful and I'd love nothing more than to leave that behind. And 2011 has a lot to look forward to, trust me.

oshiete yo subete wo shitteshimau fuan
nanoni naze shiritakunaru yuragu omoi wo

haru natsu aki fuyu kanadete
asu wo yuku tabi tsumikasanete
kidzukeba anata to
yume no hate made

In February, we'll have the start of Spring Training. March 6th brings us Pokemon Black and White and on the 31st is Opening Day. In April is DairyCon. June brings BotCon and July we'll see the release of Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Like I said, there's a lot to look forward to next year.

tsuretette
anata no basho e
kaze ni natte
iki wo hisomete
tsurete tte
anata wa doko e
toki wo koe
kokoro hodoite

Usually during this time of year, I 'm pretty much stuck in the past. I don't like looking forward and I'm not all that fond of change. But after November, a part of me changed.

mimi wo sumasete
tasogareru made
kakureta mama de
mukae matte
kimagurena kaze kikkake
mekurete omoide

ano koro nanigenaku kikoeteita kotoba
itsukara ka kokoro no naka
ookiku shimeru

The idea of looking back doesn't appeal to me as much. I think I'd rather look ahead at what's coming rather than sigh and weep for what's gone. I can't go back and change things. The past is over and done. It's best for me to simply keep walking, keep going to whatever destiny I may meet.

ano koro nanigenaku kikoeteita kotoba
itsukara ka kokoro no naka
ookiku shimeru

In other words, "No regrets." I can't change anything. Just accept it all and move on. If not, I will miss out on everything.

haru natsu aki fuyu kanadete
asu wo yuku tabi tsumikasanete
kidzukeba anata to
yume no hate made

Now, that doesn't mean I don't get nostalgic; I still do. Hell, I've been giggling my ass off thinking about Cincy lately! But I don't have this overwhelming urge to say, "If I had a frakking time machine, I'd go back and change (insert whatever incident here)."

Even if the damned machine existed, I wouldn't use it. There's no point. Just enjoy whatever life may bring, make new memories and be happy with what I've got. That's my motto now.

tsuretette
anata no basho e
kaze ni natte
iki wo hisomete
tsurete tte
anata wa doko e
toki wo koe
kokoro hodoite

Have a happy 2011, wherever you may be.




* Who's Theme was the ending song for the twelth episode of Samurai Champloo and one of my favorite songs. It has a dreamy quality about it and simply sounds like an ending. For those reasons, it seemed to fit for an end of the year type post. Hope you enjoy it.

Friday Photoblog: "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" Edition

A shot of beautiful Miller Park. From 2008.
(We might be in the sinus-bleeds--not quite the Uecker seats, but pretty high up--but I don't care. It's Miller Park. Therefore, it's awesome.)

*snerk*

So Prime's out doing the snowblowing thing... and he's wearing a mask. As in "cover the whole face" type mask.

He looks like a ninja. And every time I looked at him before he walked outside, I giggled. I think it drove him a little nuts. But hey, at least he's a warm ninja!

--Weasel, "Ninja, make snow vanish!"

Sometimes You Just Need to Scream

Saturday night was another "Nerd's Night Out", so to speak. Our friend Shawn dropped by so we ran around town and screwed around, which was a needed distraction in my case. I wish it had lasted a bit longer, honestly.

When Prime and I got home, we sat in the car and talked a bit. Then it all came out.

Yeah, I had a pretty good cry while sitting in the car. You have no slagging idea how much that helped. It felt as though six tons had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt so much better. No joke.

The next day I actually walked into my store with a small smile on my face. I actually started joking with people instead of giving the usual "polite" and standard greetings. I felt so much better than I have in weeks.

I'm not at 100% yet. I'd say I'm at around 75 to 83%, personally. But I'm a lot better. I think I'm actually "climbing out of the hole".

The only way out is up. I just have to keep going.

Once: Parte Dos

(Yes, the title is in Spanish. I only hope I didn't screw it up.)

So on Thursday, Prime and I headed out to our local Mexican restaurant to have a small, low key anniversary celebration. First off, I did imbibe. I'm thinking next time I might order a damn pitcher of margaritas and split it with one of my friends. (Hey, DA! If you ever head up this way, feel free. It'll be a party!) Second off, my guy is quite possibly the most romantic guy on the planet. Seriously.

The card he picked was perfect. Very sweet and perfect. And the gift? It was perfect. Diamonds are a girl's best friend, you know.

I'm talking baseball diamonds, of course. I'm going to Brewers On Deck! Best. Gift. EVAH!

Third of all: never drink a margarita and have anything spicy. Alcohol + pepper high = instant drunk. But hey, it was a party!

Eleven years and now heading into our twelfth. I have no words except: I love you, Prime. Always.

--Weasel, "Stop gagging. I'll turn the sarcasm back on later."

October Special in the Making?

It's been all over the news now: the Brewers now have Zack Greinke. I have to admit, I'm not all that thrilled with what we lost in the deal; we gave up Escobar and Lorenzo Cain to get Greinke and I really enjoyed watching Cain play. He was passionate and that always makes it fun. But I can't lie here: I have high hopes for Greinke as he wants nothing more than to get to the postseason.

I've got four words for you: Let's get him there.

2008 was a taste of "what could have been"--the Brewers could have gotten to the Series for the first time in 26 years. You have no idea how badly I want that. I want the Crew in the Series. And I want them to win. Ever since Prime got me hooked on this sport, I've wanted nothing more than to see the Crew winning the Series. I keep saying at the end of every season, "Next year."

Let's make this happen. I want 2011 to end with fireworks and not a whimper.

--Weasel, "Let's go Brewers! To the Series!"

Friday Photoblog: "It's Evolution, Baby!" Edition

Various body studies of movie Bumblebee. From the Hasbro tour, BotCon 2007.
(It's rather interesting to see the earlier forms and compare them to what we got in the finished product, isn't it?)

Brat'ja

Wednesday, as I rang up yet another order and stared blankly at the piles of groceries and Christmas presents that were stacked in fron of me, the questions started to swirl about in my head yet again.

Why did she keep me? What makes me so damned special? Why didn't she keep him instead? Why the hell did I get to stay with my actual family and not my brother? Why?!

My throat began to close and my vision blurred. I had to silence my thoughts or I would have burst into tears while standing at my register. Worse still, a song began to run through my head, namely Brat'ja from Full Metal Alchemist. It's completely in Russian and the lyrics can be found here. You're warned: it's not a happy song. But then again, Full Metal Alchemist isn't exactly sweetness and light.

Normally, I can only stand the original version of a song but as of late, the English version has really resonated with me. The lyrics strike a cord and I catch myself singing them softly under my breath.

I'll be honest--when I heard the last verse of the English version, I nearly cried. It was like a slap to the face.

I'm living through survivor's guilt. And it's eating me alive. I keep asking why in the name of Primus I was the chosen one and I don't have any answers. I just keep hearing Edward Elric's voice telling me to get up and walk, that I've got two good legs and should use them.

And he's right. But it's so hard to keep walking sometimes.

So where do we go from here?
And how to forget and forgive?
What's gone is forever lost.
Now all we can do is live.

Eleven

You're already tired of seeing me type here, I know. You'll live--you've no choice. Nyah.

So Wingnut--I mean Weasel--no, I meant Wingnut, I hate Weasel, Wingnut at least sounds like something with which a Cybertronian would get tagged, and if I can't use her real Autobot alias, I'm gonna use something that doesn't sound overly generic and wasn't a target in one of Weird Al's songs--and I are celebrating our eleventh anniversary today. Yeah, eleven, not first. We were finally married back in September of last year, true. I don't give a lot of weight to that date, in all honesty. Somewhat asininely, I put only a silver trophy on the day we first met at BotCon '99. Gold star goes to the day she replied to my initial e-mail to her--and I still can't say exactly why I inquired as to the status of her ActionMaster Bumblebee, aside from perhaps general wonkiness. Nope, the unobtanium quantum singularity goes to the day I flew in a southeasterly direction and met her just off the disembarcation gangway. Thus began our life together.

Yeah, I said 'thus'. Weld it shut.

I'll be taking her to what has apparently become her favorite restaurant tonight, where she'll doubtlessly snarf a trio of enchiladas that have been drowned in molé (ugh, that stuff is a travesty, really--capsaicin burn and pepper high or GTFO). She might actually partake of a frozen margarita of her own rather than guzzle half o' mine. Hopefully Ensign Lightweight there won't fall asleep from such a pithy amount of José freakin' Cuervo before I hand her a REDACTED BECAUSE I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS WHILE I'M AT WORK WINGNUT HA HA, which upon seeing she'll likely break out into tears. Or a ridiculous grin. Or song--y'know, I'm never quite sure with her.

Which is all part of the fun for eleven years.

Happy Anniversary, Bunny Convoy.

+++PRIME OUT+++

Heard Around The House

Time: a few weeks ago
Place: upstairs near the bedroom.

Me: (irritated after Prime playfully smacks my arm) Knock it off, you lousy piece of ass!
Prime: Woman, last night you said I was a choice piece of ass. Make up your damn mind, bitch!
Me: (doubled over laughing)

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: Most Wonderful Time of the Year, My Skidplate

So the first major snowfall of the year for Wisconsin has come and gone, thankfully. That was some fairly bitter scrapmetal, there, that made me wish I had had a snowblower canopy. Or a ski mask. Or a winter cap. (Well, Weasel took care of the latter pair last night. Think I'm on my own for the former.)

Damned wind could not seem to choose a direction and stick with it. North, south, east or west, it seemed whichever direction I pushed that ol' John Deere winter warhorse was against the wind, and the blown snow invariably wound up in my face and down my jacket. (Thankfully, Weasel was not in much position to lay optics upon my beardage displaying more white than usual; she would've tried to get a snapshot and I would've had to hit her in the face with the shovel I didn't want to use yet or something equally absurdly hilarious.)

Add to that the city's inexplicably quarter-assed (they're not getting credit enough for a pronouncement of half-assed from me) job of plowing the streets and I had a dammit-I-am-already-tired-of-this-slag series of moments in clearing the driveway and sidewalks. (How the city plows managed to leave several centimeters on the roads and yet create a 60cm wall in our driveway, I can't fathom.)

The city did finally make another pass-through this morning, it seems--there was a smaller wall in the driveway waiting for us to leave for work. Far easier to get Scamper up-and-over that.

I shouldn't complain too much, I suppose. This is my home state, I chose to live here, it could be said I dragged Weasel here...I may be a moron.

Just waiting for the next damned snowfall--

+++PRIME OUT+++

Friday Photoblog: "BOOM! Headshot" Edition

Various headshots of Bumblebee from the early stages of the 2007 Transformers Movie. BotCon 2007.
(Is it just me, or does he really, really soulful eyes? Maybe it's just me...)

Friday Photoblog: "Down to Business" Edition

A Hasbro employee explains some of the different processes that go into toy manufacturing. From BotCon 2007.
(I believe this was dealing with paint apps.)

Friday Photoblog: "Peek-A-Boo!" Edition

The Club store, with the Bumblebee display in the background. From BotCon 2010.
(Just moments before I took this shot, I had a very small freakout.)

Friday Photoblog: "Denim Blues" Edition

Bumblebee sign in the Boy's Dept at my local Wal-Mart.
(Guess who wasn't allowed to keep the damn sign?!)

And Now For Something Completely Different...

As you all know, I'm a die hard Brewers fan. I eat, sleep, and dream Brewers. I love my team, love my guys and support them through thick and thin. Even if they go down in a shutout, I don't care. I'm still there, whether at Miller Park or watching via Fox Sports Wisconsin; I'm there for them and screaming my head off. I don't abandon my team. They are my guys and I support them 110%, no matter what.

It goes without saying that I really miss baseball season. Not being able to ask Prime, "How'd my guys do?" is a bit depressing.

So when I found this little gem surfing the 'net a couple of days ago, it gave me a much needed chuckle. I even let Prime read it. Whether or not he found it funny, he ain't sayin' but he did read it, at least.

Now, if you've never seen John Axford, you are missing a moustache of truly epic proportions. I mean, this 'stache is Rollie Fingers epic. It truly is a sight to behold. "Majestic" would be a good word for it. When I see it, I am in awe of it. I have often shouted, "EPIC 'STACHE MAN!" as Axford has headed out to the mound. Truly, it is quite awesome and awe-inspiring.

A couple of days ago, while I was bored at work, I started to scribble out a few pseudo-facts of my own. I hope they give you a chuckle or two, like they did for me. I present to you--

Random Facts about John Axford's Moustache:

* John Axford's moustache has a black belt in karate.
* John Axford's moustache graduated with a 5.0 GPA from Harvard.
* John Axford's moustache is bulletproof.
* John Axford's moustache can speak 18 different languages fluently.
* John Axford's moustache is worshipped as a god in southeastern Asia.
* John Axford's moustache knows who killed JFK, but the Warren Commission wasn't willing to admit that a tuft of facial hair knew more about the situation than they did.
* John Axford's moustache knows where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.
* John Axford's moustache rides a Harley.
* John Axford's moustache has the keys to Fort Knox.
* John Axford's moustache can strike out Chuck Norris... with one pitch.
* John Axford's moustache knows the correct lyrics to "Louie, Louie".
* John Axford's moustache has been nailed for speeding in Broken Bow OK, Decatur IL and Rosendale WI--and talked its way out of all three impending tickets.
* John Axford's moustache is the only viable shelter during a natural disaster.
* John Axford's moustache takes its rum and Coke on the rocks... without the Coke.
* John Axford's moustache has fought in six World Wars and won them all.
* John Axford's moustache knows how to party, even better than California.
* John Axford's moustache is one of only two things that can kill Wolverine.
* John Axford's moustache once called R. Lee Ermey a wuss and got away with it.
* John Axford's moustache has a Camaro for every day of the week.
* John Axford's moustache can sucker-punch Godzilla.
* John Axford's moustache won a Pulitzer Prize in Literature.
* John Axford's moustache knows the exact location of the Fountain of Youth.
* John Axford's moustache has a replica of the Stargate... that actually works.
* John Axford's moustache is the one thing that scares Chuck Norris.
* John Axford's moustache has its own chauffeur.
* John Axford's moustache does not "pity the fool".
* John Axford's moustache can play twelve different instruments, all self-taught.
* John Axford's moustache can ace Through the Fire and the Flames on Guitar Hero's Expert level... with one hand.
* John Axford's moustache knows the secret of the Secret Stadium Sauce at Miller Park but refuses to tell.
* John Axford's moustache gave the Colonel his secret recipe of 12 herbs and spices.
* John Axford's moustache won the first World Series... twice.
* Beneath Chuck Norris's beard might be another fist, but beneath John Axford's moustache is the wicked fastball that you never saw coming.

Expect this list to grow; it's a long way 'til Brewers On Deck, even longer 'til Spring Training and don't even mention the start of next season. Hide the peanuts and Cracker Jack until then, 'kay?

--Weasel, counting down the days until March 31.

**NON-RANDOM PLUG!**
If you have a Twitter account, do me a favor and follow John Axford. If he gets more followers, maybe we'll see more of the Crew on there and you know how happy that would make me. Thank you.

Black Friday

So, I'm in at nine o'clock the day after Thanksgiving. I'll be in after the bullshit has been said and done.

I'm actually kinda glad; one of my friends has to be in at his store at midnight, IIRC. Yeah, that would piss me the hell off, too.

I wonder how many people will end up getting punched in the ribs or kicked in the face trying to grab whatever cheap-ass TV or hot new toy that's on the sales floor this year.

Really people, is this shit worth getting injured over? Yeah, didn't think so.

--Weasel, who wouldn't step foot out of her house if she didn't have to go to work that day.

Friday Photoblog: "Pick-Up Line" Edition

The preregistration pick up lines for BotCon 2007.
(Everyone looks so happy to be there...)

For My Friends

(Click the title for music. The lyrics can be found here.)

For all my friends, I send this message to you all. You know who you are. And I mean it, every word.

Itsumo sasaete kureru hitotachi ni
Higorono omoi wo kometa rhapsody e
Appreciation no kimochi wo todoke
Itsumo arigato hontou arigato
Tatoe doko ni tatte kimi no sonzai ni
Kansha shiteru yo

Hito wa daremo hitoridewa ikite ikeyashinai
Tagai ga tagai wo itsumo care shiai
Rikai dekinai toki wa hanashiai
Hara kakaeru gurai warai ai tai
Nanoni naze kou toki ni kenashiai
Kizu tsukiau no teki ga shinai
Baka baka shii hodo kimi ga sukida
Terekusai kedo chotto honki da

To all the people who have supported me..
This heartfelt rhapsody goes out to you
To send you my feelings of appreciation
Thank you...I really thank you
Wherever you may be,
I'm grateful for you

Nobody can go on living just on their own
We each take care of one another
And talk it over when we misunderstand each other
I wanna throw my head back and laugh together
And yet why do we sometimes insult each other
And hurt one another
I love you so much it's almost silly
It's a little embarrassing, but I really mean it

Freefall

I have a few stones sitting in the window sill in my bedroom. They're catching some sun in order to purify them. Sounds stupid, but I need something physical around my neck to help me feel grounded. Primus knows, anything will help at this point. Hell, it can't hurt, I know that much.

Thursday night, Prime and I saw our friend Shawn. He came bearing Bumblebee goodness; namely three of the $41.99 CostCo exclusive Battle Ops Bumblebee sets. After we settled up, the three of us went out to dinner together.

I went ahead and told Shawn my brand new family situation. After I told him, Prime suggested I take a sip of his frozen margarita to help calm my nerves. He could tell I was pretty upset by everything.

I didn't take a sip. I had to stop myself from emptying Prime's glass.

Thankfully, I had the brains to stick to soda when it came to my dinner. If I had gotten anything alcoholic, I don't think I'd have stopped at one damn drink. I probably would have gotten so damned drunk I wouldn't have been able to see straight. (Though I'm sure Prime would've stopped me.)

I'm past the weirded-out phase. Now all I want to do is lay in bed and fucking cry all day.

I think I prefer the weirded-out phase. The urge to start sobbing while I'm standing at my register doesn't feel so great, believe me.

I've been asking myself questions, questions I never wanted to ask myself, questions I really don't want to hear the answers to. It's not pleasant. I wouldn't wish this slag on anyone.

I have my brother's address. He knows I exist. I should write him, or at least try but every time I try and think of anything to say, I freeze. I don't know what the hell to say.

I can fill an entire notebook with story ideas but I have no idea what the hell to say to my own damn brother. Primus, I feel fucking useless some days.

So help me Primus, if I ever see another one of those "Life: What a Beautiful Choice" commercials, I will send my goddamn fist through the television. Because the way I'm feeling right now isn't beautiful at all. It's hell.

--Weasel, still wanting to cry.

Friday Photoblog: "Idol Worship" Edition

The Hall of Fame displays for Optimus Prime and Megatron. From BotCon 2010.
(So, how come Bumblebee's below them? He was the first inductee...)

(Insert Snarky Title Here)

So I called my parents on Monday. They're doing well. Then Mom dropped a bomb on me.

I have an older brother. Whom I never knew existed.

.....

Yeah, that was my reaction, too.

Still kinda weirded-out here. Guess it's going to take me a while to get used to not being the only kid in the family. (But at least now I can say I'm someone's annoying little sister!)

--Weasel, really weirded-out by all this.

Friday Photoblog: "Toying Around" Edition

A display featuring ROTF toys at BotCon. From 2009.
(Y'know, it'd be pretty cool to have a set-up like that...)

Along Came a...

Today, as you might know, is an extra-awesome day. It only happens to be Dan Gilvezan's birthday. In honor of this glorious occasion, I shall be playing my copy of Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions. And giggling like a dork.

Enjoy the day, Dan and much love. It's all about you!

What a Contrast...

So evidently, getting my fix can and does include watching the postseason, no matter who's playing--just watched the Phillies/Giants NLCS game 6. Giants won. I don't think I've heard a quieter stadium. I mean, damn, you could hear a frigging pin drop. Not like the Rangers/Yankees game. When the Rangers won ALCS game 6, the entire stadium erupted into thunderous cheering. The Rangers were at home, so it's no mystery why the difference exists, but still...

Now the Phils fans are booing. Go home and cry, ya chumps. I'm sick of ya. I still ain't forgivin' yer asses for 2008, ya bastards.

--Weasel, "Brewers shoulda been in the Series in '08, not you, ya cheesesteak-suckin' crapsacks!"

Friday Photoblog: "Room With a View" Edition

A shot of Orlando from our hotel room. From BotCon 2010.
(Looks like rain in the distance to me.)

The C Word

Yesterday after I got off the clock, I wandered around my store a bit. Walked through the Lawn and Garden area and groaned. In the back left hand corner what did I see?

Christmas lights and wrapping paper. It begins again.

Yeah, really looking forward to all this crap. Can we just fast forward to next June so I'll be in Cali for BotCon? I'd much prefer that, thank you very much. (It is my "Christmas", after all.)

--Weasel, gritting her teeth and waiting for the clusterfrak that is the holiday shopping season.

Friday Photoblog: "The Final Score" Edition

The final score of the '08 game I saw with Prime.
(I love watching the Red Birds lose...)

Random Thoughts, Yet Again

Because I haven't done this in a long while and I'm pretty freaking bored, it's time for:

Weasel's Random Thoughts!

* Bitch Convoy is officially gone. She got the boot back in mid-August. Seems she decided to cash someone's payroll check and handed them the money... along with the freaking check. So, basically the check could be recashed with no one the wiser. That's a massive fuck-up on her part and needless to say, management told her to step the hell down. She is supposedly working in Wireless, but I have yet to see her and I ain't complaining. (This is the same female who lectured me on frigging ethics. I can't tell if this is funny or sad.)

* I watched a Green Bay Packers game a couple of weeks ago. I can honestly say that I find baseball a lot more exciting.

* A few days ago, I had to go on a toy run for Prime; we'd gotten word that the local ToysRUs had restocked a couple exclusives and we needed several for a couple other WAY-non-local collectors. Waiting until Prime got off work wasn't really a palatable option. As a thank you, he got me a big box of Brewers baseball cards and a box of unopened vintage packs. I can say I've tried to chew 21-year-old Topps gum (it just dissolved in my mouth) and lived to tell the tale.

* Good news for yours truly: The Brewers won't raise ticket prices next year. Now all I need is to hear me some Hell's Bells in the ninth inning and life will be awesome.

* Wasn't able to make Slag-A-Con this year. Really wanted to meet David Sobolov, but things just didn't work out. Maybe next year.

* Spent most of Sunday watching the Hub, Hasbro and Discovery's new channel. I think I enjoyed My Little Pony a little more than I should have. (Hey Hasbro, we need a figure of Nightmare Moon. There is nothing more epic than a black winged unicorn.) The really good stuff comes on at 11 PM Central Monday through Thursday. G1, baby! (A nightly visit with Bumblebee after a crappy day will do my sorry tail some good, I tell ya.)

And that covers just about everything. Tune in next time when I ramble on about more pointless BS. Until then, this is

--Weasel, "Signing off."

SON OF A---!!

I'll bet that Barricade is laughing his skidplate off about this one.

Ouch. Seriously, OUCH!

Yeah, poor 'Bee looks like hell. But both drivers were okay. Something tells me my sweet little Autobot would actually be a bit proud of that.

You know, I've seen listings for wrecked cars in one of our local Auto Traders. Mr. Bay, if you don't want to repair that Camaro, I'll take him and nurse him back to health. (Hint, hint...)

--Weasel, "I'd give him a good home."

Friday Photoblog: "Peanuts and Cracker Jack" Edition

A shot of Prince Fielder on the Jumbotron at Miller Park. From 2008.
(The season's over and it's frakking killing me!)

Friday Photoblog: "In Disguise... Or Not" Edition

The Bumblebee statue and the Camaro display. From the Dealer Room at this year's BotCon.
(No, I didn't try to steal either one... I'm not that evil.)

COMMUNICATIONS INTERRUPT: So Much for the Screaming II: The Next Day

Hi, Prime here. You can tell because I use Eurostile for everything. Unless you can't because you don't have it, in which case, sux2bU. :p

Weasel's at work, slavin' away for the megacorporate. I, on the other hand, am at home watching the final Brewers home game of the season--and they're puttin' on a helluva show. Kinda wish I had risked her wrath to drive down to Miller Park on my own. It's only the bottom of the fourth inning, and so far, Ryan Braun has knocked two two-run home runs in, Lorenzo Cain has put bat to his first career home run, and Prince Fielder landed one in the Blue Bunny section in right field, at which point (bottom of the third) Marlins manager Edwin Rodriguez decided that he'd seen enough of Adalberto Mendez on the mound for the day. Ha. 7-1 Milwaukee.

Weasel is going to be simultaneously so pissed and so pleased when she finds out, considering having witnessed the Marlins' 16th shutout this season just yesterday evening. Her combination facial expressions are just priceless, lemme tell ya. You wouldn't think facial muscles could move that way, but yeegh.

She's asking, nay, demanding that I net tickets for Brewers On Deck in January and the home opener in April. (Former would be easy enough, but the latter requires miraculous abilities I simply do not possess.) I ask you, what have I wrought upon the world? Y'know, when I became a fan in 1987, marrying a girl who'd go complete bonzo for the Brewers wasn't really marked as a point-of-interest on my mental map...

Enhh. And I have to agree wholeheartedly with Weasel's comment about the swirling trade rumors surrounding Fielder. I had hoped that with Bud Selig finally out of the picture that the era of getting a good-to-great-to-star player only to trade him away for yet more (sneer) future prospects was over. But GM Doug Melvin is still here, so that's yet a danger. Hopefully principal owner Mark Attanasio will continue to be more willing to open the wallet than anyone in the Selig family ever was.

--Prime, "No, this has not nor is likely to become a sports blog. Put your bats away."

(HA SEE WHAT I DID THERE)

EDIT 1550, top of the 9th: And to top it all off, now it's Trevor Time at Miller Park. Yeah. There'll be screaming, all right.

So Much for the Screaming

Just got back from the game (construction on US 41 notwithstanding; damn barrels were keeping everyone's right tires beyond the solid white line and down to 25 mph, WTF). Guess not every one I'm lucky enough to see in person can log the Brewers another mark in the Win column--they were shut out 4-0 by the Florida Marlins. Sort of sad when the highlight of the game for mah guyz is Cain bouncing off the wall in right-center to net a fly ball.

Prime says he owns a Marlins cap that he got a year or two after their inaugural season. I'mma find it, I'mma burn it. With fire.

So the mere fact of the loss is the, uh, rum raisin ice cream in this rather crappy Saturdae (as opposed to 'Sundae'). The expired whipped cream: it was a Fan Appreciation Night at the ballpark, as this is the last homestand of the season, and nobody in our section got a giveaway of any flavor. (I mean, it's even fun just to peer down/crane your neck/whatever trying to spot an actual winner in your section.)

The goddamn so-sour-it-never-should-have-been-picked cherry? This loss meant that the Brewers clinched a losing season this year. Yeah, sure, when a team's at 81 losses and there are still more than a week's worth of games to play, you shouldn't spend very much time hoping that they'll suddenly get on a hot streak and burn through the rest of the season W, W, W, W...but I can't help it, I love this damn game and I love the Brewers.

Better luck next year, I hope. And all this idiotic talk about trying to trade Prince Fielder for some hot prospects or a great pitcher or whatever...to anybody who spouts that as being a good idea? Eeeeeffffffffffffff yyyooooooooouu.

Not a complete toss. I did get a cool T-shirt commemorating Trevor Hoffman's 600th career save, and finally netted the Topps 2010 Brewers baseball card set that I'd been looking to get. Dang cool.

--Weasel, "Love the game, love the Crew--it's all Prime's damn fault."

And Today in Fun

So, I'm off today. And Prime snagged us a pair of tickets to tonight's Brewers game. In a few hours, we'll be heading down to Milwaukee and glorious Miller Park.

I just hope this isn't a mistake. I've had a cold for the past three days and I work tomorrow. If I scream too much, I'm slagged.

Oh, well. It'll be totally worth it.

--Weasel, trying to decide whether to wear the Prince Fielder jersey or tee...

Friday Photoblog: "I'm Back, Baby" Edition

(Been a while since I've done this. I know I shouldn't have let it go for so long, but it's been a bad few weeks, which is why I've been slacking. Don't be too upset, mmkay?)

The BotCon Autograph litho, complete with autographs. From BotCon 2010.
(The wait for the next 'Con is freaking killing me.)

One Year

It's been one year since Prime and I did this.
And I am so glad we did.

--Weasel, married and loving it. (Love ya, Prime. Muchas smoochas!)

Failure is Not an Option... It's Automatically Bundled with Windows

Just a word of caution--never assume that letting Windows Update run is going to turn out smooth as silk, peachy-keen, etc., etc.

I'm fine (now), Alexa One is fine (now),...sheesh.

--Weasel "Let's not have this shit happen again, okay?."

Dear Spiders,

Please stop doing the "drop and dangle" over my bed. It freaks me out, causes Prime to panic and results in some pretty nasty deaths for you and your brethren. If you guys have any sense (common, spider, or otherwise) whatsoever, you'll freaking stop this stupidity, all right?

Sincerely,

--The (very) Freaked-Out Weasel

For Whom the (Hell's) Bell Tolls

(Click the title for musical accompaniment.)

Last night, Prime and I went to our (probable) last Brewers game of the season.

What a night it was. My arms are still sore from clapping and I'm very hoarse. I've been coughing ever since I got up this morning. I can barely speak because I screamed so much last night. But it was worth it. It was totally worth it.

We got to beautiful Miller Park about half an hour before game start. First thing we did was hit the Team Store. You think I kid, but I could spend a serious boatload of money in there. I first settled on a Trevor Hoffman bobble head, but then switched for a pair of smaller ones that Prime spotted. These were of Hoffman and Prince Fielder. I thought, Two for the price of one. Why the hell not? Ran us $21, which is the least I've ever spent there. I do not joke. Next time, I'm getting that Brewers necklace they have. I will wear it every day. And I'll get a watch to go with it.

Prime grabbed us some food while I ran and hit the ladies room. While in there I heard the announcement of the on-field umpires. I groaned out loud when I heard the name Tim Timmons. Prime's seen him call games and he always manages to blow at least one call. And act like a rampaging douche.

We had no idea, though that the umps on the field happened to be the Summer's Eve Team: For your maximum amount of Douche! Good lord, I have never seen such douche-baggy behavior in my frickin' life. Seriously, the whole lot of 'em needed a smack upside the head.

Thankfully, I won't be remembering the game for that.

Narveson pitched for most of the game, then Villanueva came in later. After Villanueva, it was Axford. At this point, quite a few people decided to leave. Bad idea, but I digress.

Prime figured that since Axford was in (it was the eighth inning, after all) and the Brewers were ahead by two that we weren't going to be hearing "Hell's Bells" in the Park that night. Kinda depressing but I figured I'd just catch Hoffman's 600th save on TV.

Then someone behind me said, "Is that Hoffman warming up in the bullpen?"

I caught myself saying, "Dude, don't even. Because if it isn't him I'm gonna get upset." Prime, who was taking pictures of the game turned and looked at me. He spoke two words and pointed to the scoreboard. "It's him."

On a corner of the scoreboard it read--Brewers Bullpen: Hoffman.

I let loose a yelp. We'd be hearing "Hell's Bells" and I might get lucky enough to see number 600.

When the eighth inning ended, nearly everyone started getting to their feet. Then both the Jumbotron and the scoreboard went dark. All of Miller Park erupted in cheering. Several seconds later came the familiar clang of the bell.

It was Trevor Time in Miller Park.

I was standing up and screaming as loudly as I could. The entire stadium was filled with cheering, screaming fans. We wanted number six hundred. We were hyped and yelling.

At first it looked a little dark; Rasmus got on base but Winn hit a grounder that resulted in a nice double-play. That brought Miles, a pinch-hitter to the plate. He got a full count, then Miles sent a ground ball to Counsell who fired the ball to Fielder for the last out.

Trevor threw his hands in the air. The Brewers in the dugout swarmed the mound while the pitchers came screaming out of the bullpen to do the same, hugging him and slapping him on the back. "Hell's Bells" rang through Miller Park and 30,000 plus fans were screaming in hysteria. I was yelling, clapping, almost crying and all but dancing where I stood. It was truly an awesome night.

Truth be told, I'm getting a little choked up now, just remembering it.

Prime and I stayed after the initial celebration. We were able to watch (and Prime recorded) the interview that Hoffman gave after this most historic game. Man-oh-man, did we ever pick the right game to attend--it could have just as easily been the other BP C'mon Back Club game in this series that we redeemed at the Miller Park ticket office after BotCon.

To Trevor Hoffman, I extend my congratulations. You pitched a helluva save and I'm damn glad I was in the Park that night, able to see history in the making.

To Prime, I say thanks. For getting us to the game, for letting me run around the Team Store and grab souvenirs but mostly I thank you for getting me involved in this. Never thought I'd be a baseball fan. But I am now and I love every second of it, just like I love you.

To the nuts who left during the seventh inning and afterward, I simply say: Maybe next time you'll stay for the whole game cause you poor nits really missed out! (Sucks to be you guys, don't it?)

--Weasel, who'd love to see Hoffy get number 700 in a Brewers uniform and be there in the Park to see it happen...

Still Kickin'... Sorta

I'm still here; it's just been a really bad couple of weeks. The job has been wearing at me (at least Bitch Convoy is freaking gone!) and there's been other shit that's been going after me. It's not really something I can go into, either.

I'll try and update soon... if I don't feel completely slagged.

--Weasel, "Life sucks but the Weird Al concert was pretty awesome."

Friday Photoblog: "A Little Dinner Music" Edition

Stan Bush in concert at the Paramount party. From BotCon 2009.
(I still have Dare stuck in my head...)

Friday Photoblog: "'Sup, Bitches?" Edition

Our finished G2 Sideswipe. From the customization class, BotCon 2010.
(He looks like a badass, don't he?)

That's a Deathin'

Man burns down house after mother throws away toy robots.

Yeah, this is where I insert a quick "Touch my Bumblebees and die". I'm not kidding.

--Weasel, "Hands off my 'bots, slaggit!"

Friday Photoblog: "You Asked for It" Edition

This is what happens when you cross Bumblebee with, um, plastic potatoes.
(Prime has one, I've two. Somehow, mine are cuter.)

Want!

Check it out: it's Halloween BumbleDuck! I want this so hard it isn't even funny.

--Weasel, "Did I mention I liked Donald Duck?"

Friday Photoblog: "I Want YOU" Edition

Sign at the Autobot Alliance Academy, which DA and I took part in, natch. From BotCon 2010.
(I still say you'd be my superior officer, DA. You've got the skills.)

"Friend" This

So apparently, saying anything bad about my company on-line will get an associate in hot water. Okay, no big deal right?

Wrong.

It appears if you have Facebook, management will try and fucking friend you... just to watch what the fuck you're saying about the damned company. If it's anything bad, they haul your ass into the office and bitch you out.

I'm really glad I don't have Facebook. I'll be damned if I'd friend any of the management in my damned store so if any managers see this, GTFO. My time on the 'net is my own assholes and I sure as hell won't spend it with you.

--Weasel, "Primus, please let my sorry skidplate get published. I want out of this hellhole."

597

Trevor Hoffman just got save number 597 at Miller Park tonight. Music is being played in honor of the awesome.

Only three more to number 600. Keep goin', baby. You can make it.

--Weasel, "Hells Bells is back, baby! HELL YEAH!!"

Friday Photoblog: "The Finished Product" Edition

G2 Sideswipe, all assembled.
(Shawn does kick ass work.)

Technical Fucking Difficulties

Well, this is fucking awesome. I have to reformat the hell outta my work.

Yeah, I'm frickin' pissed. But big whoop. I can deal with this, I guess.

--Weasel, "I hate Terran technology. It sucks."