i have been looking for a t-shirt i want to get for david for ages now ... it is the one Stifler wears in American Pie 2 when he is painting and the girls get them to kiss ... it has 2 lightening bolts on it and it says "This is where electricity comes from"
if anyone reading this knows where i can get that shirt or one like it PLEASE let me know ...
Sunday, October 28, 2001
i have been looking for a t-shirt i want to get for david for ages now ... it is the one Stifler wears in American Pie 2 when he is painting and the girls get them to kiss ... it has 2 lightening bolts on it and it says "This is where electricity comes from"
if anyone reading this knows where i can get that shirt or one like it PLEASE let me know ...
if anyone reading this knows where i can get that shirt or one like it PLEASE let me know ...
Freakin Worms
well davie and i have been through a two day hell ... we found the virus NIMBA on our computers ... mine also had troj_mia.worm ... it killed our systems ... he is still working on mine [bless his heart] ... we had to fdisk the drives and start from scratch ... everything wiped off the system ... it was an unbelieveable disaster ... we started at 2 PM yesterday afternoon ... we were supposed to spend the night in the city and i had a bunch of fun stuff planned ... but by 3 we realized we were in big trouble ... so we cancelled our reservations and worked till 7 AM sunday morning ... we finally went to sleep for a bit and were back up at 2 working on it again ... now it is 3:30 AM and davie is still working on my computer ... amazing ... i'll tell you this ... protection for our network is going to be much better from now on ... that is for sure ...
well davie and i have been through a two day hell ... we found the virus NIMBA on our computers ... mine also had troj_mia.worm ... it killed our systems ... he is still working on mine [bless his heart] ... we had to fdisk the drives and start from scratch ... everything wiped off the system ... it was an unbelieveable disaster ... we started at 2 PM yesterday afternoon ... we were supposed to spend the night in the city and i had a bunch of fun stuff planned ... but by 3 we realized we were in big trouble ... so we cancelled our reservations and worked till 7 AM sunday morning ... we finally went to sleep for a bit and were back up at 2 working on it again ... now it is 3:30 AM and davie is still working on my computer ... amazing ... i'll tell you this ... protection for our network is going to be much better from now on ... that is for sure ...
Friday, October 26, 2001
Win a War
How to Really Win a War!!
Take all American women who are within five years of
menopause - train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons,
grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate,
and canned tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when
doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is
formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children, we would gladly suffer or
die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away
from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those
of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share
life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to
lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet,
and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never
lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain
of Afghanistan with no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down our husbands or
lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...
finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a
new government? Oh,please ... we've planned the seating arrangements for
in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years ...
we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know
every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up
bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know
how to seize it ... with or without the government's help!
Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women.
Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes
over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman. You should,
too!
Take all American women who are within five years of
menopause - train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons,
grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate,
and canned tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when
doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is
formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children, we would gladly suffer or
die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away
from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those
of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share
life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to
lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet,
and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never
lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain
of Afghanistan with no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down our husbands or
lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...
finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a
new government? Oh,please ... we've planned the seating arrangements for
in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years ...
we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know
every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up
bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know
how to seize it ... with or without the government's help!
Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women.
Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes
over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman. You should,
too!
How to Really Win a War!!
Take all American women who are within five years of
menopause - train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons,
grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate,
and canned tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when
doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is
formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children, we would gladly suffer or
die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away
from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those
of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share
life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to
lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet,
and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never
lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain
of Afghanistan with no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down our husbands or
lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...
finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a
new government? Oh,please ... we've planned the seating arrangements for
in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years ...
we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know
every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up
bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know
how to seize it ... with or without the government's help!
Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women.
Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes
over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman. You should,
too!
Take all American women who are within five years of
menopause - train us for a few weeks, outfit us with automatic weapons,
grenades, gas masks, moisturizer with SPF15, Prozac, hormones, chocolate,
and canned tuna - drop us (parachuted, preferably) across the landscape of
Afghanistan, and let us do what comes naturally.
Think about it. Our anger quotient alone, even when
doing standard stuff like grocery shopping and paying bills, is
formidable enough to make even armed men in turbans tremble.
We've had our children, we would gladly suffer or
die to protect them and their future. We'd like to get away
from our husbands, if they haven't left already. And for those
of us who are single, the prospect of finding a good man with whom to share
life is about as likely as being struck by lightning. We have nothing to
lose.
We've survived the water diet, the protein diet, the carbohydrate diet,
and the grapefruit diet in gyms and saunas across America and never
lost a pound. We can easily survive months in the hostile terrain
of Afghanistan with no food at all!
We've spent years tracking down our husbands or
lovers in bars, hardware stores, or sporting events...
finding bin Laden in some cave will be no problem.
Uniting all the warring tribes of Afghanistan in a
new government? Oh,please ... we've planned the seating arrangements for
in-laws and extended families at Thanksgiving dinners for years ...
we understand tribal warfare.
Between us, we've divorced enough husbands to know
every trick there is for how they hide, launder, or cover up
bank accounts and money sources. We know how to find that money and we know
how to seize it ... with or without the government's help!
Let us go and fight. The Taliban hates women.
Imagine their terror as we crawl like ants with hot-flashes
over their godforsaken terrain.
I'm going to write my Congresswoman. You should,
too!
Tuesday, October 23, 2001
Parent
Which Movie Parent Are You?
Honey, I Shrunk the Kids
Buckle your seatbelts. We can see your mind at work already, strapping your kids to your back, or piling them into the car as you take off on your next adventure. Your parenting style is like the Marcia Strassman and Rick Moranis characters in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. You teach by example and bring your kids along for the ride. We can see your expectant face, waiting excitedly for your kids' first words, steps, or any other achievement.
When your kids come to you with questions, you're likely to point them towards the dictionary or encyclopedia. It's important for them to learn on their own. And it wouldn't surprise us if you refused to raise your kids' allowances in the hopes that the entrepreneurial spirit might encourage them to set up a lemonade stand.
Like the Honey, I Shrunk the Kids parents, you can sometimes become absorbed in your own life. But once you feel the tug on your sleeve, you snap back into being the creative parent your kids can rely on.
Honey, I Shrunk the Kids
Buckle your seatbelts. We can see your mind at work already, strapping your kids to your back, or piling them into the car as you take off on your next adventure. Your parenting style is like the Marcia Strassman and Rick Moranis characters in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. You teach by example and bring your kids along for the ride. We can see your expectant face, waiting excitedly for your kids' first words, steps, or any other achievement.
When your kids come to you with questions, you're likely to point them towards the dictionary or encyclopedia. It's important for them to learn on their own. And it wouldn't surprise us if you refused to raise your kids' allowances in the hopes that the entrepreneurial spirit might encourage them to set up a lemonade stand.
Like the Honey, I Shrunk the Kids parents, you can sometimes become absorbed in your own life. But once you feel the tug on your sleeve, you snap back into being the creative parent your kids can rely on.
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