Here is a magazine article I ran into from 1999 claiming to have created a product called the iPhone before apple ever even anounced the current iPhone.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The really, REALLY close Son and Dad!
July 08, 2006
The funniest thing happened today. I was at camp, walking to the table where I usually meet my campers, when I notice a dad playing with his son. It looked like fun and games when all of a sudden the dad made an acrobatic attempt to lift his leg over his son, while at the same time pushing his son under his legs (I guess this was a cute game to play with a five year old?). This did not turn out well, for the following reasons: 1) his son did not duck, and his leg did not make it over his son's head. Instead, his son's head was pushed DIRECTLY into his crotch. 2) Rather than let go, the dad proceeded to attempt to lift his leg higher and push his son under. Needless to say, all attempts failed. All his efforts did was create the funniest yet most disturbing scene I have ever witnessed: a dad with his leg up, his hand on the back of his five-year-old son's head, pushing it into his crotch for about three seconds. In the space of that time I started cracking up so loud that he glanced at me. Not caring, I looked around for anyone near me and blatantly pointed at the dad just so I had a witness to this historic event. Luckily, (to my credit) my co-counselor Polina saw. Immediately, her jaw dropped and, in response to my pointing, she kind of shrugged her shoulders with a chuckle. I yelled, asking her if she had seen what I had. Still in disbelief, she replied with a "yeah." We continued walking to our campers' meeting area, when I noticed a girl in my group running towards me with *the* dad! He slowly walked over to me, and the next few moments were the most awkward I have ever experienced. There was that kind of silence that says "I know what you saw." Feeling that I needed to prove to him that I was a somewhat decent counselor, I went to greet his daughter by calling out her name. Of course I called out the wrong name. Completely silent, he walked his daughter with me to the table, kissed her on the forehead, gave me a stern glance, and walked away.
Digital reenactment:
Friday, June 23, 2006
University of Arizona Orientation: Sweet Times Ahead
June 21-23, 2006
I just got back from orientation at University of Arizona. On the whole, it was an interesting experience, but there was one moment that really stood out. Here is the story:
Midnight, June 22; Evan and I have just walked to a local 7-11 and are sitting outside, stuffing our sixty-five cent licorice ropes and Crystal Light tea into our heat-fatigued mouths. As we indulge in our diabetic craving, some random U of A student pulls up in his car and has his friend run into the store, obviously to buy munchies (he was pilling donuts, chips, and candy into his arms – a sure sign of an “assisted” hunger). While his buddy stockpiles candy like a starved fat kid on a spending spree, the first guy steps out of his car to take a smoke. -- When all of a sudden a fucking HUGE fly comes out of the middle of nowhere, and starts droning around us.
Let me explain. This was no ordinary gnat -- this thing looked like the Loch Ness monster with wings. Seriously, it was at constant odds with gravity just to move. I’m staring at this level-five X-Men creature in awe and the other guy is watching it in fear. It was as if it were in search for a sacrifice for its fly god.
Finally, when it burned up all the oxygen in its proximity, it vanished. Just like that. The U of A student tells me that the fly is called a "tarantula fly." He goes on to explain that this behemoth lays its eggs in tarantulas while they are still alive. He told me it was some fucked up stuff and that I should "fucking google that shit." I laugh and make mental note of it.
After a brief silence, he asks me if I am underage. I respond that "yeah, I am," and that I was here for orientation. Seizing the opportunity, he asks me if I wanted a twelve-pack of beer for a generous (attendee to U of A student) commission of only two bucks. It was too bad I had just spent the majority of my cash on nauseating candy, but all I can really think about are the sweet times ahead. College is going to be awesome.
Update June 25, 2006: I fucking googled that shit, and damn – it’s all true. These hell-mammoths are called "Tarantula Hawks" and they basically paralyze the tarantula and inject them with their eggs. When their larvas hatch, they eat and tunnel out of their host in search for food. Nevertheless, they’re still considered “nectarivorous.” Whatever the hell that means.
Here is a picture:
I just got back from orientation at University of Arizona. On the whole, it was an interesting experience, but there was one moment that really stood out. Here is the story:
Midnight, June 22; Evan and I have just walked to a local 7-11 and are sitting outside, stuffing our sixty-five cent licorice ropes and Crystal Light tea into our heat-fatigued mouths. As we indulge in our diabetic craving, some random U of A student pulls up in his car and has his friend run into the store, obviously to buy munchies (he was pilling donuts, chips, and candy into his arms – a sure sign of an “assisted” hunger). While his buddy stockpiles candy like a starved fat kid on a spending spree, the first guy steps out of his car to take a smoke. -- When all of a sudden a fucking HUGE fly comes out of the middle of nowhere, and starts droning around us.
Let me explain. This was no ordinary gnat -- this thing looked like the Loch Ness monster with wings. Seriously, it was at constant odds with gravity just to move. I’m staring at this level-five X-Men creature in awe and the other guy is watching it in fear. It was as if it were in search for a sacrifice for its fly god.
Finally, when it burned up all the oxygen in its proximity, it vanished. Just like that. The U of A student tells me that the fly is called a "tarantula fly." He goes on to explain that this behemoth lays its eggs in tarantulas while they are still alive. He told me it was some fucked up stuff and that I should "fucking google that shit." I laugh and make mental note of it.
After a brief silence, he asks me if I am underage. I respond that "yeah, I am," and that I was here for orientation. Seizing the opportunity, he asks me if I wanted a twelve-pack of beer for a generous (attendee to U of A student) commission of only two bucks. It was too bad I had just spent the majority of my cash on nauseating candy, but all I can really think about are the sweet times ahead. College is going to be awesome.
Update June 25, 2006: I fucking googled that shit, and damn – it’s all true. These hell-mammoths are called "Tarantula Hawks" and they basically paralyze the tarantula and inject them with their eggs. When their larvas hatch, they eat and tunnel out of their host in search for food. Nevertheless, they’re still considered “nectarivorous.” Whatever the hell that means.
Here is a picture:
Monday, June 19, 2006
First Day as a Camp Counselor: Water Revenge
June 19, 2006
Today was my first day working at camp as a Head Counselor.
An overview of my group (nicknames were used to save them from future embarrassment):
Special-Ed: The self-assured ADHD/Dyslexia kid. Example: Special-Ed goes around saying "I am retarded. I have ADHD and dyslexia!" He continues to yell gibberish and say "I'm a DUM DUM!" -- He actually sounds retarded.
Fave: The antisocial kid who always wants to fight his Best Friend Forever (Special-Ed). By the way, it’s the first day and he has already declared me his favorite counselor.
Lonely: The sports guy who doesn’t want to be left out of the fights between Fave and Special-Ed.
Noodle-Blower: He is actually pretty cool other than the way he got his nickname.
The rest of the kids are basically the average campers -- quiet, anti-social, losers in which the parents send them to camp in deep hope that their ill-fated kids will do something with their lives.
Swimming is probably the least anticipated activity in a camp counselor’s career. Not because of the chance that a kid might drown -- that would be a bonus -- but because kids ride, ravage, and rape the counselors at every possible interval.
One o’ clock. I’m sitting in the pool trying to watch and protect these immature, hobbit bastards from drowning, when all of a sudden -- *Whooooosh!* straight to my face. One of these little fuckers had taken a water noodle and hawked a gallon of half-salivated pissliquid directly into my eyes.
I decided that this little punk needed to face the consequences of his actions. Being bigger and stronger, I grabbed the other end of the noodle and dared him to do it again -- assuming that with my larger lung capacity I could easily override his attacks with my Thor-like gale. As he went to blow into his side of the noodle, I quickly put my mouth to the opposite hole, intending to reverse the current back into his mouth. Whoosh-garglegabg bleh, a jet of water shot straight into my mouth.
I was thinking, "What the fuck, this kid just out-blew me? Does this kid eat cock every day for breakfast?" In shock, I urged him to do it again, knowing that this time I would be ready to unleash my Buddha blowing might upon him. Once again whooosh! gag, the little bastard had overpowered me for the second time.
Steven: "Fuck -- ahhhhh... oops!"
Not being allowed to swear, I nimbly rebounded with my "ahh, oops" statement, thereby revoking the “fuck” statement and maintaining my obligatory pretense of maturity. After swallowing my second chlorinated glass of defeat I came up with a tactical plan. I told the kid that we were on the "same team" and that he should get ready; I would tell him when to fire. As he filled the noodle with water, I grabbed my end and blew like I have never blown before. For a moment I had the mortal fear of blowing a lung, or bursting a blood vessel. As I finished, I felt the refreshing feel of blowing only air, and knew I had been successful. I listened: whoosh-garglegabg bleh. Ahh, yessss... the gagging sound of defeat.
I stand here, finished with my first day of camp, victorious -- more to come in the future.
Well, I just talked to my mom and found out that she read the story. She actually posted the third comment that reads "I hope this isn't how you're going to take care of my grandchildren." At least she has a good sense of humor.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
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