We are having hamburgers and fries for dinner tonight. They won’t be coming from any greasy fast food place either. Nope, they are being produced 100% from scratch in my greasy kitchen.

I figured, since I was making bread today, why not go ahead and make one of the loaves into buns instead. Tonight we are having mini-burgers, and tomorrow we are having monster turkey sandwiches. OK, so I couldn’t quite figure out how large to make the hamburger buns. I ended up with three smallish ones and two HUGE ones. It’s all good though.

The only thing healthier about my burgers as compared to fast food burgers is I know where the cow lived before ending up in my fridge, I know where the potatoes grew, and I know the bread doesn’t contain any unwanted additives (or imports). Other than that, it’s going to be a grease-fest tonight … and it’s going to be tasty.

Don’t worry, there will be a photo later.

Let’s get back to telling the tales of Sunday. Good thing nothing else interesting has been going on around here worthy of being talked about or I’d be really behind on yapping about my personal life.

Sunday night after dinner, Lin and I were sitting on the couch catching up on watching our recorded TV shows. It was probably after 10 pm or so. We hear a loud, bomb-like boom. Not too close, but not so far away either. We have heard it before, about a week ago. This boom was then followed by some popping noises that sounded very much like gunfire. Having just been at Mom’s all day and having the joy of listening to a Pacific War recreation almost all day long, it sounded very much like that, and knowing how the museum likes to make sure their pops and booms sound just like the real thing, the noises coming from our neighborhood made me nervous enough to not run out on the porch to see what was up (as I normally would — because I am silly). We did mute the TV and listen carefully though.

Moments after we hit the mute button on the TV remote, we hear Crazy Neighbor Lady shouting out in her driveway. Naturally, I run to my prime watching and listening post by the bedroom window.

Even though she is hollering loudly into her cell phone, the only words I can pick up clearly with my less-than-bionic hearing are the curse words and the word “fireworks”. I have no idea who she was talking to. I have to presume she was speaking to their friends down the road (who like fireworks), because if it was the cops she’d called and was speaking to that way, that would be crazy. But well, she is crazy, so there’s really no telling who was on the other end of the line. She was out there about fifteen minutes shouting into her cell phone (I lost interest after five). There were no more booms or pops.

The irony of this all is that she was apparently calling their friends and complaining to them about setting off fireworks too late at night. Why is this ironic? Because the Insane Neighbors so this too! They have been out in their back yard on non-firework-holiday days, shooting off firecrackers and Roman candles well after midnight, and they want to gripe when someone else does it earlier than that?! A friend of theirs no less! That’s about the height of hypocrisy.

On a somewhat related note, while Mom and I were sitting in her living room listening to the Pacific War going on a few blocks away, she made an interesting observation. If someone wanted to do something involving explosions or gunfire in her neighborhood, doing it during those war exhibitions that happen a few times a month would be the perfect time. Sort of spooky to think about, especially in light of the fact that one Sunday Mom and her neighbor were sitting outside, heard what sounded like gunfire, but dismissed it as being something going on at the museum when it was actually a guy a block or so over killing himself with a rifle.

Anyway, it wasn’t much of a story, at least not so interesting or exciting to wait there days to read, but at least I finally got it told. Now I can go back to whining about how utterly bored I am and how my bread isn’t rising fast enough for my liking.

I called Time Warner again. They said we shouldn’t be having any problems today. After going through all the nonsense they always want me to go through even though I have already done that level of trouble-shooting long before I get angry enough to call them, the problem now seems to be on our end (or so they say). I do have my suspicions, but all I have at the moment is circumstantial evidence … so I won’t go pointing my bony little finger across the den at the other computer in the house. What do I suspect? I suspect that the other human who lives here and who hasn’t been running any antiviral programs on his computer for who knows how long may, in fact, be the proud owner of a bot.

Let’s put it this way: after I turned off his computer, I have not had any problems maintaining my connection to the electronic world. I’m just sayin’ … seems suspicious. The other human has been warned that when he gets home, he will be forced, at knife-point (if necessary) to at least utilize one of the many free on line virus scanners … and henceforth, he will be turning his computer off when he is not using it.

Though knowing how evil TW is, it’s entirely possible they are behind it all, just to make me lose my mind. I wouldn’t put it past them.

Gilbert Carrillo thinks tattoos are an artform. He’s been to tattoo conventions and one of his tattoos was featured in a magazine. “Ever since I was 18, to now, 25, bit by bit, covering up here, covering up there.”

But last month, Carrillo’s tattoos kept him and his wife, Melissa, from moving into an apartment complex called the Villas at Medical Center. “We liked the apartment, we brought them a check for the deposit and a check for the application fee,” says Melissa.

Later, Gilbert went by to look at the apartment wearing a short sleeve shirt. The next day, the Carrillos were told they didn’t qualify to live there, because the tattoos on Gilbert’s arms violated the policy on personal appearance.

Very interesting there was no problem with considering renting to these people when the tattoos weren’t visible, but as soon as they were … hell no, no apartment for you guys! As it turns out it is perfectly legal to discriminate against renters based on appearance which is not race-related. Who knew?

The appearance clause at these apartments is as follows:

If you have tattoos that are 40% visible on the neck or head, 40% visible on the upper/lower arm, eyebrow piercing, tongue piercing, more than one stud or nose ring, more than five earrings, or “grillz” on your teeth, you won’t be renting from them.

Naturally, most of the comments on the linked story consist of people insisting that people with piercings and tattoos are thugs, and you wouldn’t want to rent to them. Funny that I know several wealthy professionals that wouldn’t be able to rent there who aren’t thugs, and I know one other class of people who would likely be turned away as well: military veterans. Have you ever seen some of the military tattoos those guys have on their arms? Yeah, makes them thugs, doesn’t it?

I guess if we ever get our garage with apartment built and decide to rent it out, I will be able to decide who to rent to based on superficial appearances as well. You can bet my rules are going to be a little bit different, such as … you MUST have at least one tattoo or piercing, you MUST NOT wear shiny lycra clothing, and don’t you DARE think you will rent from me if you have Texas-style big hair. Those chicks with big hair are nothing but trouble.

It’s a pretty ridicuous world we live in, isn’t it?

Just to let you know, after an hour of functioning internet this morning, I am back to not being able to get pages to load … pretty much at all. Took me ten tries to get to my web site to make this post, and it will probably take that many to get it to post when I am done. Seeing as the network status page is under the impression I should not be having any problems today, I will be calling tech support to pitch a fit as soon as I consume some caffeine. Not that I expect tech support to be at all helpful, but at least I’ll get my gripes off my chest.

Well, at least I got to read a bit of news this morning. I guess I’ll turn on the TV news to see what vapid crap they think is important for me to know.

Here’s hoping this connectivity issue gets sorted out pronto. While I am capable of surviving a day without internet, two days may be pushing the boundaries of tolerance. I may lose my mind, and we can’t have that.

Oh. Lookie there. A functioning internet connection. Who’d a thunk it?

Naturally, I am now ready to get some sleep, so fat lot of good it does me. I didn’t hear or read any news today. I’ll have to assume, due to having a functioning internet connection, that humanity has not destroyed itself during my temporary electronic absence.

Stupid internet better be working in the morning. I didn’t get to live vicariously through my blogging friends’ lives today, and I am jonesing for my fix.

Is it possible for my internet connection to function for more than 60 seconds at a go? No? It’s not? I didn’t think so. Thanks for nothing, Time Warner!

I’m really getting a little chapped about this. I have rebooted my computer, rebooted the router, rebooted the modem to no avail. I get about 60 seconds of internet connectivity and then 120 seconds of no connectivity. Actually, it seems to be getting worse and worse. Very, very, very annoying. I suppose I should call TW and complain, but all they will say is the same thing the network status page said the only time I was able to get it to fully load before my connection went belly-up for the millionth time: Time Warner is having a problem in my area, and the TW engineers are working on it.

I’m just trying to find out ONE thing: I heard somewhere that Dr Who was going to be canceled after the current season (overseas where it’s fresh and current, not the one playing here in the USA). Is this true? If this is true, I will be most heartbroken. I am totally in love with Dr Who.

Let’s see if I can get this to post at the next moment of connectivity I experience.

Posted this at Metafilter last night and forgot to mirror it over here for those of you who don’t visit Mefi:

Faces in Places : A photographic collection of faces found in everyday places. You can see more at the Faces in Places group photo pool at Flickr.

I know I posted some photos a long while back looking down both ends of my street, but that was the year it snowed, and that was the only reason I posted them. My street covered in snow isn’t what I would call a typical view of the surroundings. Here are some very typical views of my street.

It’s a narrow, little, weedy street isn’t it? And as you can tell from the second photo, mattresses in front yards is apparently a sign of insanity. So far, my theory on this has held out. Every house that has a mattress in the front yard contains Insane Neighbors (there are actually more than two). Thankfully, the other ones all keep their insanity to themselves, unlike the fruitcakes next door.

I think I need a shower, and then maybe bed … or a movie. I’m feeling the need to watch some hi-definition Godzilla.

Still waiting to hear about the Insane Neighbors and fireworks aren’t you? Sorry. I allowed some spontaneity into my life this afternoon. Lin came home a little earlier than usual. He needed to run over to one of his work sites, so I asked if he wanted me to go along. He said “yes” … so off we went. I got to ride in his big, fancy work truck, and it’s always nice getting out of the house in the late afternoon or early evening. Of course, the parking lot of Miller Blueprint isn’t the most scenic or romantic of locations, but still … nice getting out of the house with Lin.

I took some photos while I was there. When we pulled into the parking lot and parked, it was so funny when we both hopped out of the truck with our matching cameras. I wondered what people driving or walking by would think. For some reason the term Tower Tourists popped into my head. Whenever we are at a site together, we walk around pointing at things, talking adamantly, and snapping photos. We aren’t always in the company truck either, so I am somewhat amazed we have never been questioned by police officers. Anyone remember us going out to a small town water tower late at night and puttering around for about an hour? No one even bothered to bat an eyelash. I always think someday someone will bat an eyelash though and ask us why we are walking around a communications tower pointing at things and snapping photos.

Anyway, I caught a few interesting shots. I thought I would share. Behind the cut, because the front page of my web site is a little image heavy already.
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