The trouble with online dating.
Posted by todd Sun, 21 May 2006 16:39:00 GMT
Yes, I'm too busy/slack to update anymore, so now I'm one of those people that just puts random junk on their website.
This is pretty funny though.
Yes, I'm too busy/slack to update anymore, so now I'm one of those people that just puts random junk on their website.
This is pretty funny though.
Cleaning Lady
Posted by todd Sat, 29 Apr 2006 13:16:00 GMT
I almost spit coffee out my nose when I saw this. Couldn't resist sharing.
Also, I've been flying all over again and haven't had time to post. I'm a bad person.
Bye!
-T
Now we know why Columbus set sail.
Posted by todd Mon, 13 Mar 2006 21:50:00 GMT
AKA: Sweet Jesus!
If you read my stories regularly, you probably know that I’m a mobile phone geek. I’m not a software engineer anymore, and most of my day involves either directing a group of engineers, or more often doing strategery (Thanks GW) to make you phone haters buy more stuff on your phone.
In short, my job is to turn you all mobile consumer whores. Don’t fight it.
The best part about a career in mobile is that your clients (the phone companies) are spread out over the whole world. That might seem scary if you only watch the US media, but as I’ve discovered, there are actually other countries in the world where people don’t live in mud huts or eat babies.
Those are pretty much the target market, so occasionally I get sent somewhere weird.
Barcelona was weird.
Barcelona is exactly two scotches and one sleeping pill away from San Diego. Actually that’s a lie. That got me to Belgium.
Tack on some Belgian beer and a terrible hot dog.. now you are in Barcelona Spain.
I know what you are thinking right now.
“Ooh. That would be soooo cool! Spain! The Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria!”…
This would be true, if Nina was a transvestite hooker with a cataract problem and a voice as deep as mine. Personally, I don’t find that very “cool”. No joke, I was followed by this “woman” who went so far as to grab me and try and convince me to come with her. Now, Barcelona is notorious for pick pockets, and this woman was getting on my nerves anyway, so I wound up giving her a nice hard shove and telling her to fuck off. That worked and stopped her. She (not joking) pouted at me and looked highly offended.
Who knew that tranny prostitutes were so sensitive?
First off, people in Spain don’t really speak English. (shocker eh?)… My Spanish is terrible, although I can understand the gist of a conversation.
Guess what! People in Barcelona don’t speak SPANISH EITHER. It’s apparently some dialect of Spanish and French, known as Catalan. I got nothing.
All those years I spent watching Sesame Street, for NOTHING.
When you don’t speak the language, it’s tough to make friends in a new city. For instance, there were two very nice guys who always hung out in the hallway outside the apartment I was staying in. Every night I’d come home and they would be sitting there.
Every morning I’d leave for the tradeshow….. and they would be sitting there. They were dedicated to whatever it was they were doing out there, but I missed out because I couldn’t introduce myself.
Then one morning I walked out and sure enough, they were there, along with about 2 dozen little scraps of newspaper folded up into square packets, and a funny looking smoking device made out of a soda bottle and some tin foil.
They were very dedicated to freebasing cocaine. They looked very worried that I had busted them.
Now, I’ve been around the block a few times, and really could care less what other people do with their time. Beyond that, I didn’t really want to worry about getting jumped by drug addicts every time I came home, so what could I do?
I made buddies with them.
“No worries man, none of my business.” I told them while raising my hands up in the international sign for “none of my business”. Then I started walking away.
“Mi Amigo, Mi Amigo, come back!” said the crack head.
So I go back. Still not quite sure what the hell they were smoking. Apparently their English was better than my Catalan, and they had understood my statement, thereby automatically making me their buddy.
Crack head #1 takes a puff off his bong and offers it to me.
“No thanks man, I have to go to work. What is it though?” It sort of smelled like pot, and I’d heard that Barcelona was full of hashish.. That would have been cool. Pot heads don’t rob people… eat all their chips, yes.. rob them…. Notsomuch.
“Es cocaine y hashish”. Fuck. These guys were smoking cocaine and mixing in hashish for flavor, apparently.
“Thanks, but I have to get going. Maybe later” I figured that as long as they didn’t think I was going to call the cops, they wouldn’t screw with me.. so after about 5 more “Mi Amigo’s” I got out of there.
The rest of my trip pretty much consisted of me turning down propositions from ugly prostitutes and hard drugs from 22 year olds. On the upside, one of mi amigos actually did give me directions to a decent club my last day in town. They were the friendliest addicts I’ve ever met.
Still.. if you ever get the chance to fly 18 hours to Barcelona.
Don’t.
A bit of seriousness.
Posted by todd Wed, 08 Mar 2006 15:26:00 GMT
Normally I try and keep this site about things that are funny. Going to diverge from that for one post and ask for your help.
Not many people know this, but my girlfriend Emily has Multiple Sclerosis (MS). In fancy terms, MS is: a chronic progressive nervous disorder involving loss of myelin sheath around certain nerve fibers.
In normal guy speak, MS causes Emily to occasionally have these episodes that effect her ability to walk and balance among other things. One day she might be a normally functioning person, another she could be in a wheelchair, and then be walking again later on. She's ok most of the time, but the disease changes every aspect of her life and is progressive. Every time an episode happens, it leaves her a little bit worse for the wear.
I'm making a short story long.
I'm walking in the MSWalk on April 30th in San Diego. If you would like to help cure this disease, you can sponsor me/emily in the walk! I'd appreciate it, as would 400k other Americans who have the disease.
If you can, here is the link! Anything helps.
http://www.mswalk.com/toddallen9
-Todd
Happy Mardi Gras, and again, fuck cops.
Posted by todd Wed, 01 Mar 2006 04:52:00 GMT
Seriously.
As a non-jounalist, here's my little shot out to the cops across the world.
Fuck yourself.
Now I know what you hippy bastards might say. "Police Officers risk their lives for us". You have watched too many movies. 95% or cops don't do anything useful. The the remainder were born in a bad neighborhood and have something to prove.
I've hated cops my whole life, and I'm far from a thug. My favorite hometown cop clearly got abused in high school and brought it out on everyone who did something he didn't like. He was the father of a personal friend of mine, and the prick tried to illeagally search my car once, because he was under the impression I smoked pot.
Sgt. Canfield. Blow me. (sorry Jim)
Let me put this in a present day perspective. A guy got shot less than a hundred yards from my apartment a few days ago. Guess what happened.
NOTHING.
Some felon got arrested for posession of a firearm, but almost a week later they don't know who really shot the guy. The felon hasn't been charged.
Tonight, Mardi Gras....my girlfriend flashed her boobs out my window.... which honestly I thought was the whole point... . Five police officers were at my door before the beads stopped flying.
AND SHE HAS NICE BOOBS!
To top it off, I live in a secure building. The point is, when anything that ACTUALLY requires the police happens, cops are too busy discussing the big play from their glory days... but it comes down to something like jaywalking or having fun, they spring to action like the teenage mutant ninja turtles. (except not as cool)
So if you happen to know a news guy/journalist in the area please show them this story. You can shoot a car full of bullets in downtown San Diego without concern. But if there is nudity during FUCKING MARDI GRAS, be prepared for ex jarheads and highschool baseball players at your door. It makes them feel manly.
To their credit, they didn't arrest anybody. They really just wanted to see some boobs. It's a reasonable goal, but maybe, just maybe they should spend a bit more time doing their jobs. Protect, serve, or do something other than drink coffee outside my apartment and STILL not catch a guy shooting someone within eyesight of their Starbucks.
Or get some beads.
(one last time)
Cops.
Fuck off.
-Todd
(ps.. actual humor to come soon. I have lots of stories to share, but I'm pissed right now)
Hong Kong..... Makes you Smaaat.
Posted by todd Thu, 16 Feb 2006 07:09:00 GMT
Ok fine, I didn't really go to Hong Kong. However, Emily and I *did* go to THE Hong Kong in down town San Diego. By the end of the night everyone was speaking in another language anyway. Either that or I'd had one too many "Mojos"
So many places in this town are geared towards eveyone looking perfect and sipping martini's, so occasionally I like to go somewhere that doesn't even have teeth, yet alone fancy glasses.
Well my friends. Hong Kong was just such a place. Dirty, with a bad juke box and a pool table off in the corner. Navy hat's hanging all over the place, and 3 middle age Chinese women behind the bar. Judging by the pictures of them all over the wall, they had been there for their entire lives.
Oh yeah, and to get into the bathroom, you had to put a WASHER into the door. They gave you a washer with each beer. I kept mine as a souvenir.
Anyway, everything started off pretty tame. Emily made a dive bar mistake and ordered a wine. Somehow it didn't come out of a box and was actually decent. (so she says). I stuck with the beer.
We were sort of looking around behind the bar at all the weird shit you could buy to eat. Stewed Duck Soup (serious), various Ramen noodles, mostly stuff I had never seen before. Then we noticed the sign pictured above.
The next sentence out of my mouth set the stage for the rest of the night. "Ok fine, I'll bite, what's a Mojo". It was the only $8 drink in the bar.
The insane retired navy guy next to me laughed, the Chinese ladies repeatedly said "Mojo make you smaaat!"... and occasionally added in "make you hooorny too!".
After recovering from actually hearing Chinese ladies say horny and making sexual gestures, we signed up for some Mojo's. The navy guy, Daniel, joined for moral support.
Now as far as I recall.. A Mojo is about 5 shots of liquor in a mason jar, with a splah of fruit juice and some Budweiser beer. Somehow it tasted exactly like fruit punch. Fruit punch of doooooom!
This is Emily and I after 1 round of Mojos.
If there's one thing I know about drinking, it's that once you get locked into doing something clearly stupid (such as drinking Mojos), you commit. You can't go in half assed to drinking fruit punch.. that's what I always say.
And damnit we didn't. A few Mojo's later Daniel had finished telling us his story about how he keeps dying (twice so far, once for 45 minutes apparently), and was generally getting on my nerves.
Here is me wishing he would "beat it".
After we escaped from Daniel we stumbled home. I don't honestly recall if we were horny or not, but I definitely felt smart.
-T
Quick hola
Posted by todd Tue, 14 Feb 2006 14:57:00 GMT
hey! i only have 10 minutes left on my internet time.. but since i havent updated in awhile Im going to say hi.
im in Barcelona for a trade show. it´s an amazing city, if somewhat dirty. I have lots of stories to tell again, but with no internet in my apartment it´s rather hard.
I´ll go into more detail later but here are the highlights...
1. I´ve been propositioned by at least 15 prostitutes... including one last night who may have been a man, and had cadiracs (however you spell that).
2. Walking out of my apartment, there were 2 kids, probably about 20, smoking cocaine and hash out of a plastic bottle. They offered me some, but it seemed like a poor life choice. Drugs are everywhere here, but it´s somehow a safe town at the same time.
3. internet time is running out... have to leave.. but I´ll post lots of stories when I get back!
lata
t
Phoenix, "We don't believe in cancer".
Posted by todd Mon, 30 Jan 2006 20:28:00 GMT
I'm sitting in a bar in the Phoenix airport right now. I'm in the "America West SUCKS" part of my flight, where they inevitably fuck up and strand you somewhere for no apparent reason. I'm flying to Minnesota, where I have every intention of hunting penguins, yet for some reason America West can't get an airplane into the DESERT.
God knows what they will do when they hear it snows up there.
So, first, let me do my best at putting America West (and United in general) out of business. Don't ever fly them if you, you know, want to actually get somewhere. They screw it up every time. I'm not even joking, the "on time %" on my flight schedule is 50-60%. 50% isn't a boarding time, it's an estimate.
Luckily my company pays for everything when I fly, which means I'm going to drink till somebody shows up with an airplane. Hell, I'm not driving (although with odds like 50%, I might as well).
The major downfall to where I'm at is that there seems to be some cigarette smoking race going on. I'm a bit worried that I'll be thrown out when they realize I'm not puffing. Now, I grew up in Erie Pennsylvania. Lung Cancer was our state animal. But once you live in California for a bit, these things strike you as odd. People just don't smoke in Cali. (Because it KILLS YOU)
Phoenix is apparently making up for us. I'm not even exaggerating, EVERYONE within my site is smoking right now. I'm sure that I reek.
Holy shit, I see my fellow passengers moving. Either they have given up and are leaving (distinctly possible), or they are changing gates.
Wish me luck, and send your extra breath mints to Arizona. They need them.
-T
Toto: Christ, be glad you aren't in Kansas anymore.
Posted by todd Wed, 11 Jan 2006 13:43:00 GMT
Aaah Startup companies.... I'm back where I'm meant to be.
It's a pretty stressful place, we make no money (which you may not realize, IS important for companies to do). Basically my job to build something that we can sell to the mobile phone companies, before we run out of money...and do it while keeping up with a CEO who shows up asking for custom demo 1 hour before the client arrives (he didn't get it).
I wouldn't trade it for another "easy" job, unless I needed a nap, but there are some downsides.
Here they are:
1. I hate fat people on airplanes.
2. I hate kids on airplanes.
3. I *really* hate fat kids on airplanes.
I'd gladly pay an extra couple hundred bucks per trip if American would promise me that it would be only average sized people over age 15 aboard. Fifty bucks more if they capped it at 60 years old. There, I solved the airline bankruptcy problem.
So when Little Susie Sausage Legs sat behind me squealing like she had just caught the ho-ho truck, I was somewhat displeased. Her little brother was with her, and a mother, who was clearly just outnumbered. She actually told the stewardess "I'm glad we are back here, so they can be a bit more like kids". I think may have caught my thoughts on that plan when I looked at her.
But! Susie Sausage Legs was not one to be hushed. My trusty iPod saved the day though.
Jay-Z beats Susie any day.
Then, she started kicking the seat.
Then she started kicking my foot bar. AHA! Something I can react to. Wait for it... waaaait for it.... KICK! That little girl probably burned 75 calories she jumped so damn high. Nobody kicked my seat again after that.
After landing in Baltimore, I spent the rest of the night investigating male birth control. That trip preeeetty much closed the door on my wanting kids. I never wanted them, but people keep saying I will. Those people are wrong. Unfortunately, the only way for a guy to have more birth control than a rubber, is to get himself CUT! As they say in Raleigh, that dog won't hunt.
The internet swears that a male birth control pill is in final testing and should be around in a few years. SIGN ME UP!
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate kids normally. In fact, I'm really good with kids. Other peoples kids. I'm not sure I'll ever have them myself. I'm sure it's beautiful, and changes your life in great ways, and blah blah blah...
I'll be in Barcelona for a week in February, I'll consider having kids when they make a 2 week diaper. Till then, it's strictly things that use litter boxes.
-T
Not Humor, but a question.
Posted by todd Wed, 11 Jan 2006 04:53:00 GMT
Hokay, So..
When I'm not participating in unhealthy behaviors, I play with mobile phones.
Lots, and lots, of mobile phones.
And I blog.
And I read blogs.
I build products that *hopefully* make mobile phones better... make you want to use them more. Unfortunately, that makes me *extremely* biased about what people actually want... you can help with that.
SO, YOU, PEOPLE THAT LISTEN TO MY BLATHERING.. HELP ME! Comment to this post and give me a rating, 0-10 on if you would use this (as a reader, or as a blogger)
Bloggers: If there was a blog plugin (a chunk of javascript you stuck into your site template like a statcounter), that let anyone type in their phone number and get a text message to their phone (with the post), anytime you updated your site... Would you put it on your site?
Blog readers: Do you use your phones for anything other than phone calls? (note: This DOES reveal your age). Would you accept an incoming text message whenever I (or any other site you sign up for), updated our content? You would be able to read the post on your phone, or at least know that the post was online.
Oh yeah, one bonus... any audio clips (of the proper size) could be saved as ringtones... any images... could be saved as backgrounds/images...
Give me votes....... Yay? Boo? Meh?
T-Style
