Oh, Coco, say it ain’t so!

Conan’s last Tonight Show

Originally uploaded by N-Sai

DISCLAIMER: I’m relating the personal angle I have on the Conan issue. I’m not taking sides on the Jay-Conan debate insofar as which host is better, which time slot is better, whether it’s better to have big hair or a big chin, whether these men are overcompensating for something, etc. I happen to be a fan of both men’s shows, but I choose to focus on Conan here. My opinions do not necessarily reflect those of my employer, their families, my family, subsidiaries, Vampire Diaries or tributaries herein or hereafter.

Last Tuesday, I wore all orange as a sort of thematically appropriate outfit (by accident, really). On Friday, I wore black.. All this weekend, I might just put that orange scarf back on as a tip of the hat to Conan O’Brien, who just finished his last show as host of NBC’s “Tonight Show.”

The finale was touching. It started off with a monologue doing a few hits and jabs at NBC and pending unemployment, plus another one of those “draining NBC’s coffers” sketches. There was a mashup video pulling together footage of Conan running across the country with some favorite bits during the last 7 months. Tom Hanks came out with scotch for the host. Neil Young gave a touching performance of “Long May You Run.” And then Conan made a speech that almost brought tears to his eyes, and mine: “If you work really hard and you’re kind, I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.” He said cynicism is one of his least-favorite attributes and thanked the network for how they treated him. It was a very touching tribute. And then Will Ferrell was Ronnie Von Sant as he performed Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird” with guest players including Beck, Ben Harper and a cowbell. Magical!

It’s surprising to me how much a stupid show like this can get me riled up, and how sad I feel now that it’s over. Perhaps it’s because it’s hard not to live vicariously through him. Especially since over the years I’ve occasionally dreamed about saying “See ya! Wouldn’t want to be ya!” to traditional jobs and even going into a comedy or writing profession of my own. It’s for that reason I’m employed in a position where at least some creative latitude and individuality is encouraged. I feel connected in some way, like I have  a stake in his success.

Or perhaps it’s because what we witnessed tonight was the unraveling of one man’s lifelong dream, played out on our television screens. With the economy as it is, lots of folks surely can relate. Or, perhaps we’ve all fallen short of our own expectations on a less-public scale in our lives and we’re now both exploring our own sense of loss and hoping to watch Conan to see if he’s got any clues on how to handle such a situation.

Or, perhaps it’s because that was a darn good show and it would be a dang shame if this man can’t find a way to get back on air.

Maybe all of these.

I was so happy when I found out that Conan was going to host the Tonight Show, although I also felt bad for Jay Leno. I waited five years to see it, and it finally happened. When that video came up and we watched Conan run, run, run from one corner of the country to the other, my heart just leapt. And now I think if I watched the same video, I would cry. I feel like I know the guy. I’ve been sitting in my pajamas, watching that guy, for 13 years going on 14. I was an eighth grader when I first started staying up late and catching glimpses of the kind of goofy Harvard-educated comic with the pompadour. Watching Conan in my formative years literally guided my career. Hearing that he wrote for the Harvard Lampoon inspired me to be a writer as well. His quirky brand of wacky humor and intellectual substance was very intriguing to me. When he got married, I was heartbroken. Other girls were thumbing through Seventeen and Tiger Beat, and I was watching Conan O’Brien. I’m pretty ridiculous, I know.

Evidence of my quasi-obsession can be found in the Angelfire homepage/Conan fan site I created for myself in the mid-1990s, The Orange Baron’s Domain. With all the style and flair of HTML 1.0, it was both my first Internet presence as well as an expression of my own absurdity. The garish orange background is gone by now but let me assure you, that was something to behold when it was fully put-together. (And you can also find my old Mock Trial questions which are tacked on there kind of oddly. That was a spare-time hobby during my junior and senior years.)

In college, I made a point to talk to Triumph the Insult Comic Dog when Presidential Debate Road Show ’04 made a stop at Arizona State University on October 13, 2004. If only the Masturbating Bear had been part of the entourage.

Nowadays, I no longer want to marry Mr. O’Brien and I have a more realistic perspective on things, *LOL* giggle giggle. But I still enjoy the show. So when I see late-night strife happening to Conan, I’m a little hurt. But that’s Show Business, as they say. I’m still a fan of Jay Leno and I’ll support his efforts, too. It’s not going to be easy for the Big-Chinned One to retake his old time slot.

I really hope that online video doesn’t completely do in this TV star. The world would be a less-interesting place without comedians like Conan doing what they do. He’s smart enough and has built up enough cred from this experience that he’ll do well wherever he goes or whatever he does. It’s an exciting but scary time in the media. We’ll see what happens when he’s allowed to talk publicly again. For now, a few months of silence and pompadour-free airwaves await us.

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Wow, that sucked: A look back at the “naughty oughties”

Unopened bag of 2004

Originally uploaded by N-Sai

This is a year-by-year look at the decade that saw me becoming a journalist and solidifying my identity, as well as blossoming from an awkward teenager into an semi-awkward adult-ish being.

There is a lot to go into here, but I will start out just going year by year. And, a look at my love of beer. It changed, you’ll see here.

I hope you enjoy this look at history through the lens of me. I mean think about all the politics, the economy, it’s all interrelated. I mean we started out with the attack, then the war, then the cycles of optimism and fear. Interesting decade.

• 2000: Wrote for the school paper. Was the assistant fine arts editor, and then became entertainment editor. Was known as “Slim Saidi.” Dreamed about graduating from high school and hitting the big time, going all over the place, rocking the world. But first, settled on ASU.
• 2001: Went to Office Max for Senior Ditch Day, a momentous milestone in my life (and the day I purchased Incubus’ Make Yourself at a Sam Goody-type establishment). Actually graduated from high school. Went to ASU, majored in computer science. 9/11 happened. I found out about it by overhearing conversations in the dorm restroom — about cars on fire, the world burning up, explosions everywhere, they said, and it was simply terrifying. It took a while for classes to be canceled, and I remember everything was so quiet.
• 2002: My kitty-corner downstairs neighbor in the dorm died and it took three days to find him there — it was really sad. He had the room to himself. There was a burglary and ID theft at the family house while I was away at school, but reality didn’t hit until I was home for the summer. Had major ID theft problems for the rest of the year. Got my first real-ish job, by becoming a road service phone schlock at U-Haul HQ. Lasted a whole two months, but learned a lot and met some cool people. This experience convinced me that I was capable of holding down a job at a national company.
• 2003: Snuck in through the back door of The State Press over winter break (figuratively speaking) and became the associate Web Devil editor. Decided I no longer wanted to be a computer scientist, and instead wanted to be a journalist, a humanities major, a geographer, a cartographer, a computer geek, maybe an engineer or scientist, really I couldn’t decide. Identity crisis a-go-go. Interned for the media office at the Desert Botanical Garden. Had my first beer this year, thankfully not around any cacti. Somehow I’d avoided it that long.
• 2004: Became one of two “campus and administration” reporters for The State Press, and discovered I was obsessed with reporting. Worked at the City of Chandler a couple days a week, which created an insane schedule for me given everything I was doing. Turned 21 just before summer and right in the nick of time: Over the summer, traveled to Washington, D.C., and interned for Common Cause’s press office. Learned a lot, had a great time, decided that Budweiser was my Beer. (Not Bud Light) The third presidential debate was held at ASU in October of this year and I got to report on it, and even interview Triumph the Insult Comic Dog for the Web Devil.
• 2005: The economy was still booming and ASU had ideas and new buildings practically coming out of its orifices. Got a reporting internship at the not-quite-defunct East Valley Tribune and then became Web Devil editor. Couldn’t find ONE job, so I got TWO jobs instead: Media specialist at Pan-American Initiatives at ASU, and also as a writing intern for Choice Hotels International. Drank.
• 2006: Continued with my jobs but then at some point decided that the current situation was OK, but it was time to move forward. I somehow stumbled on CNN.com, applied on a whim, was accepted, freaked out, grabbed my father and four suitcases, flew out to Atlanta, found a lot of bad apartments, found a good apartment, said goodbye to my Dad, cried a lot, grew up and became a multimedia journalist in Atlanta! Drank a little, here and there.
• 2007: Moved to a new user participation group that did mysterious things with “iReports” and “Exchange.” Got hired on full-time, and then became the first associate producer (full-time) for the budding User Participation group. Got my first taste of gourmet beer, in the form of a Blue Moon served at a going-away party for a colleague. A coworker explained to me that it was a “Belgian White” and I nodded and said mmm-hmmm-wow-awesome and then went home and did some research. Tried the Sweetwater Georgia Brown as well as the Hummer, and I was well on my way to beer snobbery.
• 2008: The economy had been teetering a bit, but this is the year it really started going into the pooper. On the plus side, iReport started coming into its own, and I became a Senior Associate Producer. Moved out of my apartment in Dunwoody to a convenient place in midtown. Dealt with serious cockroach problems, moved to a less-convenient and more-expensive place and then went to Los Angeles to chill with the Murray scholars. While there, I met Kato Kaelin. He was pretty chill. Right after that, President Barack Obama was elected on a historic election night. Meanwhile, my taste in beer became increasingly snobby. Phoenix light rail launched December 27.
• 2009: President Obama was inaugurated and the whole event was a big global Thingy that seemed unprecedented. The economy was much further into the pooper and we called it a recession. I didn’t seem to notice, as I single-handedly held up the country’s gross domestic product by traveling a ton and visiting San Francisco, Paris and London for the first time. Saw Cousin Julie get married in Wisconsin and was reunited with the family, most of whom I see maybe once every five years. Saw the World’s Largest Six-Pack in La Crosse. (Well I mean, just look at the Year in Review. You’ll see what I did in 2009.) My circle of friends practically doubled. Beer snobbery got even worse and maybe a tad pretentious, and the beers got darker and darker. Light rail celebrated its second birthday.
• 2010: Let’s see what happens!

Not the Night Before Christmas Anymore

OR: BUSTA X-MAS RHYME, YO!

Nerditor’s note: This is an unauthorized, potentially troublesome parody of “The Night Before Christmas” that you can read and love in its original format. What you’re about to read is a twisted, nasty, naughty, weird version of the traditional feel-good holiday poem with a little modern techie spin. I originally posted it on Twitter in 140-character-ish spurts. Some parts were omitted for brevity and to prevent mass-unfollowing from taking place, and so that I could finish by midnight ET for all my peeps on the Atlantic side of things. This is the uncut, unaltered, un-neutered, uncircumcised, mano a mano version of the parody. Enjoy.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Every keyboard was stirring, each mouse in the house;

We updated our facebook stati with care
In the hopes that likes and comments soon would be there.

The children wore snuggies pulled over their heads
But the copyright folks said to call it a ‘sleeved blanket’ instead.

Pa in his wayfarers and ma in her Uggs
Could not get to sleep without aid from drugs;

When all of a sudden, snow fell and the cold grew bitter;
I decided to post photos and update my Twitter!

But first, Windows told me to update my Flash,
Had to restart my system and empty my trash;

Lawnchairs, grills, flamingoes covered in snow
Gave warning that Jack Frost wanted to nibble my toe;

When what to my wandering eyes did appear
But a schmaltzy TV pitchman and eight robotic reindeer;

He wore a funny hat, his personality lively and quick
I asked him his name, he said it was Nick!

More rapid than eagles, Nick’s sales pitches came
And he whistled, and shouted, the robotic reindeer names!

“Now, Crasher! now, Necromancer! now, Hacker and Stricken!”
“On, Grommit! on Blooper! on, Blunder and Chicken!”

So up to the house-top the robots they flew,
With geeky griffin-like wings of metal, and Nick, too.

Then, in a ring-a-ling-a-ling, I knew a text had come.
Felt jolly buzzing in my pocket, so I typed with my thumb.

I’d asked, “Yo Santa, wat r u gonad bridge me?”
“Hot hoo hoo,” went another typo-ridden T-X-T.

CUT: [[[ Let’s skip lengthy description of Nick’s jelly belly —
The rosy cheeks, smoky wreaths, reindeer breath so smelly … ]]]

He stayed pretty chill though ash covered his suit and loot;
This North Pole pro’s hair was perfectly coiffed to boot!

A plethora of thingies he had stuffed in his sack,
And he looked like — was — a peddler opening his pack.

His CrackBerry — how it twinkled! his iPod how merry!
The LED’s were like blinking roses, iPhone case like a cherry!

His troll-like mouth was drawn up like a bow,
His ears pointy and Spock-ish and all logical, you know.

He wouldn’t stop smoking despite pleas to the contrary,
And just kept puffing away so much that it was scary.

He had a cute little face and a clear-cut beer belly,
Like a pregnant man with a dude-womb full of jelly.

He was stocky and big-boned, which is code for “chubby,”
But I wouldn’t say he was quite on par with a Teletubbie.

With twist of the radio dial and a pounce on his touchpad,
He chuckled a bit at the gumption of those yo-yos at NORAD.

[[[END CUT]]]

The Northern sales-lad worked quietly to not be a jerk,
Giving free samples of things we don’t need — such a perk!

I shuddered when he put his finger in proximity to his nose
Fearing he might be in H1N1’s throes.

As he veered for the chimney, I missed him like whoa,
But I knew he had peeps to see, places to go.

With the sound system cranked up, the sleigh flew out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all,” he said, “Cuz this Saint Nick’s jammin’ tonight!”

Resting up for a wild next few weeks

Currently writing from Phoenix, Arizona, right now. I’m on vacation hanging out w/ the family. We had a good time visiting San Diego and I enjoyed the trip immensely. We took a couple days to visit the beach and stay in a nice hotel where we could walk everywhere. On the way to and from California, we stopped at all the cheesy tourist stops you can contemplate. (Pictures!!)

A pretty vacation photo, originally uploaded by N-Sai. [Full set]

It will be bittersweet symphonies a-go-go when I go back to ATL because there’s so much to be done at work and outside of work and just in general. My life is more complex than it ever has been, and that’s a good thing. It’s not just working all the time or studying all the time or what have you, but rather a nice mixture of all elements of a good life. This can only get better. I mean, I just got my first approval for a credit card and I’m going to have one for the first time, ever. Since the economy went to pot, I’ve been unable to get one. I had to take out a loan through the credit union and pay it off (and wait until my fraud flag expired — in regards to a couple instances of potential identity theft in the now-distant past) before I started having any luck with credit card companies.

But… I was just kinda freaking out about my timetables for the next few weeks… this could get wild and wacky. Here’s the absolute bare minimum of what needs to happen, and when:

• By August 28: I need to make it through the conventions coverage supreme (like a Taco Bell taco with all the fixins, for lack of a better term), with the DNC being fairly immediate upon my arrival, and also make my way through the RNC as well.
• By September 1: I need to have made it through the Dragon*Con in one piece, and potentially *in* a one-piece. It’s up in the air what I’ll be dressing as, but I know I will be doing something. Might have to look up a comic book store or costume shop or just hit up Psycho Sisters or another similar shop to find something fun that I can wear.
• By September 13: I need to be moved out of my old apartment and moved into a new one. The olde place has already been leased and a new occupant will be moving in by the 19th. Good luck hacking the cucaracha action, suckers! (Is that mean?)
• By September 18: I need to be in Beverly Hills for the Murray thingy, something I’m not even close to being ready for. I need to get plane tickets, figure out the itinerary, write my bio again (note to self), figure out where I’m staying… this all has to happen pretty soon.

So yeah, busy times await. But I am starting to get a little excited about all this.

Holy Smokes!

A spider just dropped on me from the ceiling! Eek! A Brown Recluse? I hope not. But this is why I needed to create an “Express Posts” category. And this is the kind of stuff that could go on Twitter, too.

Testing 1, 2, 3

This is just a test of the 57channels emergency alert system. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. Disregard that annoying tone. It’s not important. There are alleged storms and even alleged tornadoes sprouting up around the state, so stick here and we’ll keep you posted. Nothing here, though, just some scattered thunderstorms and lightning last night.

Oh yeah, about the tornado

Shirley, you’ve heard about the tornado. The damage is slowly being cleaned up. The photo at left is from when they were wiping up all the water inside the atrium when it rained the Monday after the storm. Vacuums and everything were implemented. Coincidentally, this all happened on pi day.

Good to have you back

Today, thanks to the efforts of a kind stranger, I was reunited and it felt oh, so good. Not reunited with an old friend or a black-sheep relative, but reunited with my lost wallet. That pocket-sized polyester casing holds the keys to my identity and finances. Whether or not carrying such a valuable item on one’s person is a prudent idea, I can’t say, but it’s good to have you back, old friend.

Looking at it, you can tell it’s had a rough journey. (Of course the majority of this damage came from the inside of my purse(s)). The MARTA monthly pass and small bit of cash inside were stripped from it, and everything else was left intact. Who knows what filth it went through, what cockroaches and other vermin crawled over it while it sat so destitute at the bottom of the train tracks.

It’s hard to say what happened to it, really. After disastrous experiences like this, wallets rarely like to speak of the horrors they’ve seen. I can only go off the anecdotes of witnesses such as the credit union representative who left me a mildly unsettling message on my voice mail at work:

“Please call back immediately. It is imperative that you contact me as soon as you receive this message.”

After I listened to the message, my heart was racing and my adrenaline was surging. I was certain for sure that someone had broken into my financial fortress and tried to make hell for me. Unfortunately, I have past experience with such things, and have little desire to improve upon that experience. I was on hold for a long time, freaking out as I contemplated all the forbidden charges being racked up on my account. My mind went wild in those few minutes, imagining wild spending sprees and Duck-Tales-inspired dives through piles of golden coins. I could see my Web account access showing massive amounts of money being deducted (since, of course, I have massive amounts of money).

So I eventually got through and she told me that my wallet had in fact been found. Or rather, that a man had called to say he found my wallet and wanted to talk to me. She then proceeded to tell me that this man had basically defied death by jumping into the track area to get it and then quickly getting out before the next train came. (Well, this is MARTA we’re talking about.)

This kinda floored me, so I got the digits for this dude and called him. He seemed to be an average Joe. Or Jimmy, rather. That was his name. He said he did it because it was the holiday season and he didn’t want anyone to go down into the track area and use it for ill purposes. He told me he would take a bus and then a train to get down to where I work. He had just moved to A-Town and didn’t really know his way around. This was actually going to be his first trip to the Centennial Olympic Park area. I thanked him and he said he would come over to my workplace. In the meantime, I dashed off to the gift shop to buy a small gift. So he found his way over and called from the concierge, and an accomplice accompanied me down to the floor for safety reasons.

And there he was. An average guy who felt it was necessary to get that wallet. He told me that he’d gotten to Lindbergh Station (a point where the north line splits off into a Y, and typically a very busy station) and seen a wallet down there. That’s the same place where I realized I’d losst the wallet. He passed by it and then came back again and saw it. At that point, he decided the risk was worth it and got it. It’s a considerable risk, especially given that there is an electrified bar on one side of the track. Luckily, the wallet was not on that side. And if a train comes, it probably won’t be able to stop in time. Plus, I’ve been on trains on a few occasions where the operator has BREEZEd right through the station by accident. So he got the wallet and called my hair salon (yes, I have a poor-woman’s hair salon for my monthly trim off the ends of all five inches of my hair) and the credit union to see if they would make some effort to reach me.

Gotta say, I was touched. I gave him a gift basket and a $20 bill as a token of my appreciation, and my oft-tested faith in humanity was restored. I already have a new driver’s license and have applied for new cards, so that part isn’t so much of a big worry for me. Those cards were set to expire anyway I guess, so we’re just taking care of that a little early. It’s more the identity documents I wondered about. My only question now is, what happened? And how can I prevent this from happening?

On the way home tonight, I coincidentally saw a man get down onto the tracks and search around and then get back onto the platform. It’s quite possible to get something off the tracks and live to tell the tale, apparently, so just leaving it there on the tracks could have still led to ID theft. This sight seemed odd because that’s something I just never see, except on this day. The track area is so full of garbage and rats that you don’t want to go near it.

My inner non-cocaine-using Sherlock Holmes is currently conducting an investigation. Retracing my steps last Thursday night after work, I last remember seeing the wallet at Peachtree Center as I entered the turnstile and sticking it in my pocket (or — I hope not — setting it on the bench next to me). By the time I was exiting the train at Lindbergh, I knew I didn’t have my wallet anymore. So, if someone found my wallet strewn about the train tracks of that station, it’s probably because a person found the wallet and took what they wanted before discarding the rest. There’s also a slim possibility that someone picked my pocket along the way, but I’m not sure. One thing is certain, I think it’s highly unlikely that I dropped the wallet between the crack of the train and platform as I was getting out at Lindbergh. By that point, I knew I didn’t have it anymore.

It’s a mystery. I will try to be more careful from now on, and thank my lucky stars that everything has gone smoothly, so far. That wallet threatened to ruin my weekend (although that didn’t quite happen beyond some hours in the police station and on the phone) and possibly a little more. Nothing materialized though. Good to have you back, wallet of mine.

Pumpkin spice and everything nice

I like to go to Starbuck’s every now and then, and I’m not even talking about the one roughly 50 feet from my Place of Employment. I would rather go to a locally owned coffee house (that serves quality coffee), but it’s tough to find indie businesses in my corner of the OTP without a bit of travel. Anyways so the last two times I went to the particular ‘Bucks that I always go to, I have been the “every 50th customer.” This means I am eligible for TWO entries in the October drawing to win $1,000. I’m gonna give it a shot, you know? I figure this isn’t going to happen every day.

And by the way, I’m kicking myself for repeatedly ordering the Pumpkin Spice Latte, which cost me more than purchasing an actual pumpkin. It’s not unpleasant, but it bears resemblance to neither pumpkins nor spice. It is a fine and enjoyable latte, however. It’s a different story when tasting pumpkin beer, however. That stuff doesn’t sit well with me. The last time I tried some I thought it tasted vaguely like, um, “upchuck,” and I didn’t make it beyond a few sips. I’m tempted to give it another shot, but of course, that’s what I always say about the Pumpkin Spice Latte. My picks at Starbucks are straight-up cappuccino, the cinnamon dolce latte and the chai latte. Even then I have to be careful to just drink a little at a time and spread it out over a few hours to avoid getting an uncomfortable stomach-irritating caffeine rush, and you know, to make it last. I’ve tried non-dairy and that helps a lot, but the soy milk doesn’t touch real milk. If I want something a little lighter I’ll go for a green tea lemonade, lightly sweetened. Delish.

[/whining]

So… beyond that, I endorse Stephen Colbert for president. To be quite honest, he’s the only candidate I have any sort of affection or affinity for.

I should also recap my recent journey to Stone Mountain Park for the pumpkin festival (featuring pumpkins that are probably NOT picked directly from a local patch, but I can pretend, right?). It was good times, and it was a lot easier to get there than I expected. Admission to the park itself is free (although attractions are not) so it’s a nice place to go and chill. I’m definitely going to go back and try out ALL the rides if I possibly can. I love the little touristy village inside the park. It reminds me of a Cracker Barrel on a massive scale. (And Stone Mountain Village itself has a charming little Main Street). What kind of weirds me out is the carving on the side, which is of course the main attraction of the whole thing. It’s a monument to the Old South, and you see a lot of, I dunno, characters going to see it. Then there was the kid who asked me if I was “from around here” and the lack of transit in the direct vicinity of the park. For these and other reasons, what I’m getting at here is that I sense that the crowd at this park is more representative of the population outside the city than the people inside it. If you catch my drift. And then there was a bunch of guys who drove by me and yelled “Hey!” to scare me. They laughed when I jumped. I don’t know, it was kind of a strange atmosphere over there peoplewise. Still, an enjoyable time, and I’ll definitely go back.

What I really miss is Young’s Farm in Dewey, Arizona, which used to have the most awesome pumpkin festivals featuring pumpkins grown right on the farm (if I understand correctly). I know I went at least once with my roommate at the time, and I’m glad. That place was totally awesome, but sadly, the owners had to sell it out for some reason or another, and now they can build a subdivision there for heat-weary Phoenician escapees. And by the way…

A CHALLENGE TO THOSE LOOKING AT THIS
Finally, I’m calling on all my readerses (I assume there’s at least a handful of you out there) to search for the term “adult balloon animals.” I’m currently the No. 5 result when you search for those words in Google, and the goal should be to become the No. 1 source of complete non-information on adult balloon animals. Together we can work together to make this happen.

Don’t Tase me, sis!

Pardon the bad joke. Look, I don’t have an opinion about *that* and I’m trying to remain impartial.

But anyways… according to my alma mater’s newspaper, for which I used to work, Taser International is coming out with a much more stylish, feminine kind of Taser. This is “shocking” news. Heh. Maybe they’ll offer custom skins and stick-on bling too, and BlueTooth compatibility.

Factoid: Taser International is based in Scottsdale, Arizona. It’s interesting. Say what you will, but with GoDaddy and Cold Stone Creamery alone, the ‘Dale is making some attempt to rock the Kokopelli-adorned free world.

As an aside, what is up with leaving your BlueTooth cell phone earpiece cemented to the ear for hours, even when one is not on the phone? I see this a lot and I think it borders a little on the ridiculous.