i am a little taller than average, but probably not as tall as you think. the following conversation happens so often i have it memorized.

some guy "how tall are you?"
me "six-two or three, i am not really sure."
some guy "no way, i am six foot, and if i am six foot you are at least six five."
me "hmm, that's interesting"

i wonder if this conversation ever happens with shaq?
some guy "how tall are you?"
shaq "seven-two."
some guy "no way, i am six foot, and if i am six foot you are at least nine five."
shaq "shut up, punk ass"

i wonder if this conversation ever happens to Verne Troyer (mini me)?
some guy "how tall are you?"
Vern "thirty two inches."
some guy "no way, i am seventy two inches, and if i am seventy two inches you are no more than 2 feet."
Vern "whatever, shaq"

the psychology behind these conversations probably give the female readers some insight to the male brain and it's obsession with fudging measurements.

some developers tell me that html is limited in it's functionality. that is a bunch of crap, look what i have coded. these buttons go far beyond controlling simple html pages, they actually control time, space, and dimension. all done in html (with a wysiwyg editor, mind you!).

i am still tweaking the code for the "spay my cat" button. a bug in the code results in a cat tonsillectomy. seems to be a netscape problem. press the button only once, wait five minutes before clicking again, clicking twice may result in double billing of your credit card.

red skies at night
sailors delight
red skies in the morning
sailors take warning

does this mornings blood red sky obscurred by falling hail stones qualify?

yesterday, juicy green apples. today, wild raspberries. tomorrow, only my wife knows.

i have not bought shampoo since i married, nine years ago. my hair is a second class citizen in our house. my wife's flowing red locks rule. my shampoo is whatever she judges to be unsuitable for her hair.

if it has an ugly label, smells bad, causes itching, or creates open weeping soars it becomes my shampoo.

i am barred from the shampoo du jour, only the leftovers which are designated by appearing on the lower shelf in the shower. my hair often peeks at the top shelf with wonderment and jealousy my hands can never touch the top shelf shampoo.

the worst one she purchased off the internet. she picked the ingredients and named it herself. the label read "adrienne's queen b shampoo". after only two applications she deemed it not even worthy of my hair.

a week or so ago, these sprouted downward from the ceiling. they have become a mystery here at the office, and have generated much speculation as to what they might be.

i believe they are ceiling nipples. everyone will know i am right when the milk begins dripping.

how great is that? fresh milk dripping into your cube free of charge. i wonder when i get my ceiling nipples.

3 hours ago OS X 10.2 jaguar went on sale.
1 hour ago these guys were sitting outside the store loading it in the mall
1 year from now they will be back to load 10.3 on a friday night.

just for the record, i was there only to document the geeks around me. i was not there to fawn over jaguar, or drool over the new dual processor g4's, or ogle at the little ibooks, or lovingly caress the ipods. i'm above all that. (hey didja see the new 23" 1920 by 1200 pixel resolution flat screens!)

i think i need new glasses, i've been witness to many strange things
lately.

i was chillin' on the patio with the cool kids and realized my bottle was empty again. i went inside to trade in the empty at the bar. a tall brunette with a devilish look in her eye takes notice of me. she is standing next to me. she is not shy, her hand moved up by back letting me know she is available. i look at her and smile a "thanks, but no thanks" smile. i quickly break for the bathroom.

i was just hit on. this is a rare situation for a big goofy out of shape married guy with a bad haircut.

in the bathroom, i start to think. hmmmmm, yea, i still got it. i turn to wash my hands and see myself in the mirror. the "hi my url is..." name sticker on my chest is the only thing i can see.

sudden realization.

i was not hit on. obviously mrs. flirty was playing a game with her girlfriends. who could find the biggest geek to tease, all for laughs. i was carrie.

we'll see who has the biggest laugh when i hack into her AOL account and change her bookmarks!

my town of frisco (30 miles north of dallas) has existed in a loophole of time. recently, the good people of frisco approved the sale of beer and wine within county lines. an action that has catapulted frisco forward in time to 1978. still some catching up to do, but we'll be there soon.

this beer and wine issue has ripped the town apart. the proposition passed over 2 to 1, but the 1's refuse to give up the fight. the city council has taken it upon themselves to provide moral guidance for us all. they are ruling with an iron fist when it comes to approving licenses.

i and many others are ecstatic about the change. it used to be a 20 minute drive to get beer, now it is only 2 minutes away! the exuberance is hard to contain. often when perusing the beef cooler at the grocery store i can feel the excitement of others perusing. it is all i can do to keep from high fiveing the other customers in the beer isle.

now i can resume my path to alcoholism unobstructed. a path i began when living in sinful detroit where liquor could be purchased on every corner, where the weak are killed and eaten.

four hours of tweaking this silly thing has resulted in the following:

- after six months of bloging, a few reoccurring topics have evolved. that means i now have entries archived by topics (available in the right most column). now i can refer to all the reasons "why i love my wife" very easily if i ever forget.

- after six months of a strict no linky luv policy enforced by the upper management here at ultramicroscopic, a happy compromise has been reached. the "look over there" section to the right will direct you to a blog much better than this one. a single link, rotated when the spirit moves me.

- many other teeny tiny (ultramicroscopic) tweaks that you will probably never notice, but have been bugging me for a while. kinda like changing into fresh underwear, you didn't notice, but i feel much better.

now the only remaining thing is to figure out why some pc's decide my body text looks better in blue than black (as it is properly displayed on all macs). it can not be that hard.

today is the first full day of kindergarten.

being the sensitive and caring husband i am, i reminded my wife the school was having "coffee and kleenex" in the library for weepy mothers suffering from a little separation anxiety.

"coffee and kleenex?!?!?... i'm bringing ice cream and kazoos!"

as it turns out, talk is cheap. she plowed through several gallons of coffee and a few boxes of kleenex.

well, guess i will keep making these till i get bored or the cease and desist order comes.

first watch the original, then the spoof of mark..

incase you missed it switch I, and switch II.

friday evening we attended a kindergarten kickoff sort of dinner thingy for son one. a few observations.

1. my grade school teachers looked like old retired pirates, my sons teachers look like they could be moonlighting at gentleman's clubs or that van halen video.

2. the principle was skinny and unimpressive. i think i could take him.

3. i asked the gym teacher when they would start playing dodge ball. he said they don't play those types of games any more. they are raising a generation of wussies.

4. i could have sorted the kindergarteners into their future cliques (geeks, jocks, band buddies, stoners, sluts, brainiacs, dweebs, and youth groupies) with 98% accuracy.

the switch parody i created last week, gave me another idea.

if you have not seen or heard of ellen, you may want to check out the original, otherwise proceed here.

she looked up from the magazine, lines in her forehead gave her a puzzled appearance. it was obvious her mind was stuttering. she starred at me for a few seconds before finally speaking.

"infinity is the highest number, ... right?"

my very earliest childhood memories begin at 3 to 4 years old.

i figure, what is the use of interacting with my son if he is not going to remember it anyway. seems kinda like a waste of time.

well, son #2 recently turned 3, i should probably introduce myself. he has been eyeing me suspiciously around the house lately.

managing the energy level of your kids in the back seat of a car is a fine art. dipping energy levels lead to whining, peaking energy levels leads to fighting. it is a very delicate balance. much like winona ryder's doctor finding the perfect balance of prozac and ritalin.

sensing they were dropping to dangerous levels, quick action was needed. the field to the left contained hundreds of cows. they appeared very disorganized, many lay on the ground. in an effort to raise the boys energy levels, i rolled down the window. without thinking too much, i shouted.

"hey cows, no layin' down on the job! moo cow moo!"

not exactly comic genius, but for a 3 and 5 year old, it killed. the boys giggled maniacally, levels resumed.

unfortunately, that small action had long lasting ramifications, pushing me to the brink of insanity. this has now become the family catch phrase.

the boys are constantly rolling down the car windows to shout as we drive by. the boys have widened the scope beyond cows. hey birds, .... hey trees, ... hey homeless, ... hey hells angels, ...

two possible endings to this. relocation to a mental institution, beaten to death in my sleep by a mob angry cows.

will you do me a favor? gorge yourself on black licorice, then email me with the color of your poo.

your answers will help me decide if i need to make a doctors appointment.

um,... the sooner your response, the better. thanks.

took the boys to "kid expo" today. this scam is where you plunk down $5 each for the opportunity to be harassed by people in booths selling shit like home security systems and home cleaning products.

admission also allows you to separately purchase tickets to play on giant inflatables like this one.

my son loved sliding down the deck of the titanic into the icey inflatable waters of the convention hall floor. i wonder if it was that much fun on the real titanic.

this giant inflatable allowed us to giggle maniacally as we re-enacted one of the greatest human tradgedies of modern times. wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

i can hardly wait for next year, the boys should really enjoy the hindenburg.

you have probably seen some of the apple switch commercials as well as some spoofs of the commercials.

i offer my spoof. a testimonial from mac himself about switching users.

349-4965, my phone number in 1978.

1007614, my student number in 1985.

the complete lyrics to come on eileen by dexy's midnight runners in 1983.

september 15th, the birthday of an ex-girlfriend from 1987.

two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun. the ingredients of a big mac sandwich in 1979.

these are only a few of the completely useless, out dated bits of information wasting valuable space in my brain.

i have tried killing the memories with beer. i have even waved large magnets around my head.

i really need the bit space for more important things. like my current zip code which is elusive as the albino python of the amazon rain forest.

what are you trying to forget?

i was just visiting register.com.

as you probably are already aware, the domain "ultramicroscopicSucks.com" is still available.

as you probably were unaware, the domain "ultramicroscopicIsBootylicious.com" is also still available.

treat yourself to the flavor that best fits.

the peter principle (people rise to their level of incompetence) is probably the greatest business theory ever developed. a few theories i have developed about this ridicules place.

urgent disappearance principle - the greater the urgency of a project, the more likely it will disappear completely.

waffling principle - wait 24 hours before executing orders from management, they will change.

milton bradley principle - it is a game of chutes and ladders. lying ladders climb upward, truth chutes tumble downwards.

weasel de jour principle - if you don't like your manager, wait five minutes, there will be a new one to hate.

wicked growler principle - the shitty coffee is ruining the bathrooms.

so, i started this damn country band,
because punk rock is to hard to sing.

faithless street, whiskeytown

tonight i will see a friend perform at poor david's pub. when i leave the show, i will once again be very bitter about never learning to play a musical instrument. the greatest regret of my life thus far.

when i was 13, my entire class took a music placement test. "which note sounds higher, a or b?" these masterful questions were to determine my musical potential, this would aid the band instructor as to which instrument i should play (the spoons or the theremin).

a week or so after the test, a man visited our home to talk about my test scores. he told my parents and i that the test results showed great potential. i could play ANY instrument i would like.

i requested the french horn. he clarified his original offer by saying any instrument EXCEPT the french horn. he tried to dissuade me by claiming that the first several years of leaning the french horn would just be a lot of oum, pa, pa's (can anyone out there verify that?). very boring.

i decided if i could not play the french horn, i would play nothing. besides, at 13 i was much more interested in perfecting the art of masturbation.

so anyway, round midnight tonight, i hope no music stores are open on my way home. i might just pick up a french horn or maybe a banjo.

recently the team gave me both a birthday card an anniversary (work) card.

underwear is a central theme in both cards.

is this coincidence or are is my team obsessed with my underwear?

i knew i was bootylicious.

recently i visited the doctor for a ankle injury. i removed both socks and shoes.

"mmmmm, you have very nice looking feet." said the doctor's assistant as her hand playfully pinched my upper arm.

she went on to tell me how much i might enjoy a pedicure. beyond that, i can't remember much else she said, her mustache was very distracting. i eagerly awaited the doctor's entrance, it would surely end this flirtatious conversation.

well, that is another story i will save for penthouse forum. the important thing here is that others are beginning to recognize the beauty of my feet. some thing i have known and bragged about for years. this verification negates the counter claim of my wife, who is obviously jealous of my walking apparatus. nice to know i can always fall back on a foot modeling career.

i knew i was footylicious.

when will people love me for my mind?

i am brainylicious, you know.