TechMiso Launches

TechMiso

TechMiso, a joint blogging venture between close friend Rich and myself, just launched on New Years Day Tokyo time. The obvious focus is information technology but we are not only going to be writing about your average, every day topics. One of our more important goals is to zone in on the government and it’s use and misuse of technology.

Head over and read the first couple articles and let us know what you think. If you have any ideas for content then by all means, fire away!

Captain Horatio Magellan Crunch

It would appear that the cereal Gods have finally answered a prayer that many of us have been awaiting an answer on for years. All of us who were curious who the moron in the Napoleon suit is, who everyone calls Cap’n Crunch, can now rest at ease.

Thy answer hath arrived!

According to Megnut, the Capn’s real name is Captain Horatio Magellan Crunch. He almost sounds as if he is somewhat British, which almost makes me now want to eat the damn things any longer, if it were not for the fact that Cap’n Crunch with Crunch Berries simply fscking 0wns the cereal world.

Anyhow, go grab you a bowl and revel in the newfound knowledge that you are, more than likely, eating the seed of Horatio Magellan. Isn’t that a pretty picture?

Woman Given “Penis Cream Treatment”

In what has to be one of the funniest stories that I have read in ages, a Syrian-born airline pilot stands accused of tricking a school teacher into having sex with him by pretending he had to administer ointment on the end of his penis.

“He (Sbano) suggested he would apply the cream to his penis and apply it inside her.

Mr Rees said the woman found the sessions “Clinical, not at all erotic”. She consented only because she believed it was a proper treatment.

“When the insertions took place, and depending on the instructions of his friend, he would thrust slowly or quickly for anything from one to ten minutes,”

You read that correctly; this lady allowed a guy to put cold cream on the tip of his cock and thrust said cock in to her dry-as-a-loaf-of-bread vagina, all for the sake of applying medicine insider her. How in the hell does any female allow a male to insert his penis inside you for the sake of a clinical treatment is simply beyond comprehension. Apparently she missed training the day that females were taught such common sense.

For his part in this Jay Leno monologue, Sbano claims the woman invented the entire story about the “treatment.”

One thought that comes to mind, other than the obvious idea that this woman is a complete fucking moron, is this: did Sbano ejaculate inside her after his one to ten minutes of slow or quick thrusting? If he did, that brings with it so many additional questions that I think it might be better to just leave this wacky ass story alone right here.

Missing Pants: $65 Million Please

Some asshat lawyer-cum-judge is suing a DC area dry cleaner for $65 million (via) because they lost a pair of his pants that he brought in for alternations. Roy Pearson, an administrative law judge for the District of Columbia, believes that he should be awarded $65 million for the loss of a pair of $150 pants in order to cover his litigation costs, for “mental suffering, inconvenience and discomfort,” for the value of the time he has spent on the lawsuit, for leasing a car every weekend for 10 years and for a replacement suit, according to the court papers that he has filed.

Pearson’s first letter to the Chungs sought $1,150 so he could buy a new suit. Two lawyers and many legal bills later, the Chungs offered Pearson $3,000, then $4,600 and, finally, says their attorney, Chris Manning, $12,000 to settle the case.

But Pearson pushes on. How does he get to $65 million? The District’s consumer protection law provides for damages of $1,500 per violation per day. Pearson started multiplying: 12 violations over 1,200 days, times three defendants. A pant leg here, a pant leg there, and soon, you’re talking $65 million.

This Pearson character is a pure, unadulterated asshat extraordinaire. The entire law profession is already looked down upon by the majority of the public, mainly because the lot of them are a bunch of snakes and spiders, willing to jump on anything in order to make a buck. But $65 million for a lost pair of $150 pants?

I know, everyone is thinking, well that old hag that spilled $2.50 McDonald’s coffee in her lap ended up receiving $640,000 after the judge reduced the award from $2.9 million, so why should this guy be left out? Plain and simple: at the very least, the old lady got hurt in the process, even if by her own accord. What happened to this asshat attorney-cum-judge? Nothing!

Cases like this are rarely dismissed with prejudice even though they should be. The presiding judge should smack Pearson back down to reality, because this guy has the mistaken belief that the legal system should be abused for profit. America really needs to see some tort reform; if this is not an obvious indicator of such a need then I am not sure what is.

Open Letter to Japanese Porn Directors

Dear Japanese Porn Directors,

I would like to thank you for the many mosaic filled, tissue-wasted artistic experiences that you talented individuals create. If it were not for the movies you create I would have never lost so many potential future children nor would I have ever been exposed to some of the strangest, and most bizarre, sexual fetishes that the world has to offer. Keep creating the brilliant entertainment that you are so obviously well qualified to direct.

With that out of the way, I do believe that there is one area of the Japanese porn underworld that is in particular need of assistance, or even dare I say improvement. It is because of my profound love of your artistic endeavors I offer the following feedback.

I am not so sure if you understand this but viewing porn is an extremely enjoyable experience when the so-called “actors” and “actresses” performing in the movie appear to be enjoying themselves. Who-or-what-ever leads you to believe that the porn-watching public at-large drops larger loads of tissue babies when watching women who are being beaten, taken advantage of, or are attempting to escape some would-be “attacker” only to suddenly “give-up” and decide to perform fellatio on said “attacker” has been sadly mistaken.

The average person, either male or female, finds absolutely nothing even remotely erotic about watching a woman in what appears to be true horror, shock and pain, all while supposedly having sexual intercourse on her own accord. Nothing. Not for your standard, run-of-the-mill salary man. Not even your every day Japanese porn connoisseur, who professes a peculiar love for those girls who slide slimy little eels inside a variety of their, and others’, orifices.

Granted, there is a certain group of people that are in to the whole “rape scene.” Those types of people are far and few between. There is already a segment of the Japanese porn business that caters to such horrific tastes, just like there is a Japanese “film company” that films black and white labrador retrievers pounding innocent animal loving Japanese females. In fact, there is even a small group of people who simple adore those wacky train rape movies, where “Yokohama desu, Yokohama” can be overheard on the train’s speaker system.

It is understood that these are fetishes and therefore are catered to a particular market. Fetish movies are generally abnormal and not all that “fun” to watch for your average porn watcher. The majority of those who consume porn are what is considered “your average porn watcher” otherwise known as your audience; if your audience in not “in” to a particular “thing” then just move on to something better.

Contrast the peculiar sexual antics in fetish movies with “mainstream” Japanese porn. The mainstream flicks contain your average, run of the mill type sexual situations that follow standard Japanese formulaic situational scripts. A girl, or multiple girls, engage(s) in sexual intercourse with one or more men. Throughout the course of the sexual encounter the female is heard making a number of sounds, rarely which can be construed as sensual. In many cases the supposed ecstasy filled screams become annoying because they are either too loud, being obviously made because the “actress” is “acting” or a combination of both. In most cases it is blatantly obvious that the female is not enjoying herself, and would much prefer to have her lips wrapped around a straw while sipping on an ice cold Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino rather than engulfing some warm, hard uncut Japanese cock that will eventually spill love milk across her cheeks.

Watching girls that do not appear to be enjoying the pleasure banana peeling them from the inside out is just not all that enjoyable. At all. Ever. Got it?

What us true Japanese porn connoisseurs would much rather watch is a sensual Japanese idol writhing in ecstasy, totally oblivious to anything outside the “sexual zone” that in consuming her, all the while completely enjoying the fact that she is engaging in some of the most animalistic behavior that humans enjoy. We want to see a woman who enjoys sucking that tube steak sandwich before it erupts like Mt. Vesuvius on her forehead.

We Japanese porn connoisseurs want to watch women that are having fun performing all these kinky sexual acts, who love their job and love to act out erotic scenes on camera, who are truly willing participants in the sexual antics being displayed on the screen. It makes the fantasy that much more pleasurable and believable. Your audience is most probably jerking one out so at least help make their hidden pleasures worthwhile.

I am definitely not asking you to aim for realism, because real sex, the type that goes on in your parents bedroom, is pretty damn boring. At least make an attempt to add some exuberance to the situations.

It is so much more delightful to watch a woman who wants to please her on-screen partner, who is a trooper and is a willing participate in any erotic games that shall be played on screen, who is not afraid of embracing her sexuality in front of a camera, who has no problems exposing her inner-most and darkest desires to the world, who has no problems writhing in ecstasy after an exploding orgasm, all captured on camera for the whole world to see.

What us Japanese porn connoisseurs demand is Japanese porn where the women involved are enjoying themselves. We long to see women that love their job, not women who appear to be coerced in to sucking cock or taking one in the ass just so the industry can make a quick buck. Not that we do not mind either, just that we want to watch chicks that genuinely dig sausage in their tight little ass.

Like I said earlier, I sincerely love and adore your delightful masterpieces, even if they are slightly flawed. However, with the right feedback from the right people I genuinely believe you will be able to make cult classics that will be watched by the world over.

Thank you for your time and understanding. I look forward to hearing back from you, should you have further questions that need clarification.

Best Regards,

Scott

Stay Tuned

I have finally decided on what to post here. The updated tag line, assuming that it displays properly, should be somewhat of an indication as to the direction I have opted to take with this blog. Stay tuned as starting this week things are going to change …

Code Test0rization

This is a test of the emergency broadcast system in your neighborhood. Safely ignore this unless you believe that you are under so much duress that your situation warrants assistance.

What this really means is that I am doing a little test and that this post can be safely ignored. Maybe I found a use for this blog finally?

Blog Usage

It has been well over a year since I posted anything on my WordPress.com blog. There just does not seem to be any particular reason to post on it since I have my very own WordPress powered blog on my own domain. However, I do not want to get rid of this blog, and do want to post something of value here.

With that said, any suggestions on how to better use this blog? Like, maybe, any ideas for quality content that I should post here but not on my personal blog?

Year Of The Dog

I want to wish a sincere Happy New Year to each and every visitor of the site. May all your hopes, dreams and desires come to fruition in the year of the dog, 2006. If you have some new years resolutions for 2006 then good luck in meeting those goals.

In order to ring in the new year I have updated the design of my website with a new design, based on the exceptional k2 theme.

Check it out and read more …

Is 2005 Over Yet?

This year has been utter hell on me and my family. I have spoken about the majority of what has taken place though there are a few things that I have not mentioned, for various reason.

It started on January 1, 2005, when, after midnight on the 31st, my wife and her parents got in to an argument that resulted in her having a huge anxiety attack. This, that and the other thing happened throughout the beginning of the year. There was the a series of three tree fire attacks on my house throughout the beginning of summer. A couple weeks after I returned back home from the deviantART Summit I found myself involuntarily terminated. Some other intriguing odds and ends between now and then took place.

Things culminated this weekend as my beloved wife found herself checked in to a local hospital after having been rushed there via ambulance.

I am sitting at home Friday afternoon working on a few things while Junko heads out to the bank and to do some quick shopping at the local supermarket. She parked the car in the store parking lot and walked out to the bank. While in line she started feeling a slight pain in her lower abdomen though she was able to get through the banking. Thinking that maybe a bout of constipation was creeping down on her she headed for the bathroom though that was pointless.

The pain would not subside so she left the bathroom. On her way out she searched her purse for her cell phone; it was not there as she left it at home. She made it out of the bank and surveyed the area for a pay phone. Not a single one within sight. Junko set out to make it back to the car and head home, as she had a parent/teacher conference at 1530 and here it was already 1440.

As she started walking towards the supermarket more pain shot through her lower abdomen. It was unbearable. She was sweating like it was the middle of summer yet the temperature outside was a balmy 70c, give or take. After a few steps of this tormenting she almost fell over. Luckily a street sign-pole was right in front of her; she was able to rest her body on in order to hold it up.

She doubled over in agonizing pain. A few people nearby noticed and asked if she was alright. After quickly explaining the situation as best she could considering the circumstances, she was advised to get to a hospital ASAP. A nearby man made good use of his cell phone and called for an ambulance. Out of sheer luck, not that this situation involved any of that whatsoever, this particular bystander was able to speak English. My wife gave him our house number and he dialed it so that he could tell me what was taking place.

I am sitting at home Friday afternoon working on a few things while Junko heads out to the bank and to do some quick shopping at the local supermarket. She left the house around 1330 and said she would be back soon as she has a parent/teacher conference with Anthony’s fifth-grade teacher at 1530.

While working I notice the clock and realize that it is 1440 and think to myself, “where is Junko?” I figured that she must have run in to some traffic at the bank and that was why she had yet to make it home. A few minutes pass and the phone suddenly rings.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hello,” in a male voice, with a Japanese accent. “How are you?”

“Uh … I am fine,” I retort. Thinking to myself why this guy is asking me how I am doing. I have not the slightest clue who it is and quickly figured that he must be a salesman trying to play nice. Since I was not doing anything dangerously important I decided to play along for a moment. “How are you?”

“I am fine too, thank you.” Then he says something that puts the fear of God in to my heart. “Your wife is not feeling good. She has a very bad stomach ache and can not walk. An ambulance is on the way.” He explains the whole situation in good enough English that I understand the gravity of the situation. We exchange a few more words before hanging up and I rush out the door.

Junko has the car and the store is roughly 3km, mostly up-hill, from the house. I grab her bike, which has damn-near flat tires, and take off like an F14 being jettisoned from an aircraft carrier. As I am riding I can hear an ambulance in the distance; the neighborhood we live in is a fairly quiet one. Somehow I make it over to the supermarket in 15 minutes even though I told the man it would take 10, knowing full well that was a lie at the time.

Throw the bike down and survey the area; end up proceeding in the area where I assume that they are located. I see no ambulance though as I pass the entrance to the bank I see a young mother, with her daughter in a stroller, as well as an older lady look at me. Their faces somewhat light up as we make eye contact with each other. Something tells me that this is the right place.

The younger of the two calls over a man standing about 10 feet from them. We quickly greet and shake hands. He proceeds to tell me that the ambulance left 5 minutes ago and explains which hospital they were destined for. I express my extreme gratitude to all of them and rush back to the bike only to end up completely ignoring it and deciding to grab a taxi to get home as fast as possible.

I get home within 5 minutes, if not sooner, find Anthony at the park and call another taxi. The two of us jump in the back seat and head for the hospital.

When we arrive there Junko is being checked out by the doctors. We wait patiently for about 20 minutes until we see a nurse rolling her in a wheelchair. She looks spent and can barely speak. An IV is attached to her arm, feeding her antibiotics and other important fluids.
Her white blood cell count is roughly 3 times the norm so the doctor wants to run some more tests on her. Unfortunately she will have to be admitted for 1 night if not more; observation is necessary so Junko is not allowed to return home.

What a way to begin December; the final month in a year that will ultimately not be forgotten; one that we wish would end sooner rather than later.

So here we are; it is now late Saturday night and Junko is still admitted to the hospital. The tests thus far have been inconclusive so on Monday they plan to do an MRI. Depending on the outcome will determine if she can go home or if a longer stay is necessary.

This long, and overly-lengthy, explanation is, in some strange sense, therapy of some type for me. Having had happen all that has taken place this year is bad enough. But to cap it off with my wife in the hospital is just icing on some kind of shit-filled cake.

It is time for me to go lay down and relax while watching “March of the Penguins” by Luc Jacquet. Hard to loosen up under these circumstances but you have to do it. For those that do read this in its entirety I thank you very much in advance. I pass along my most sincere gratitude for any condolences that are passed along.

I pray that a year like mine does not happen to anyone. Much love to all.