Googling Your Name

Typing your name into Google to see what comes up. This pastime has been enjoyed by many for years. Gosh, it's probably as old as baseball! It's not as fun for someone with a common name... or someone who shares a name with someone who will likely be a saint someday. I fall into the latter of those two scenarios. Thankfully, with a made-up Web handle like mine, it's pretty easy to see if I've popped up somewhere interesting in Internetworld. I've only ever come across one other 'dwarbi.' That was a name on a census document on India, which is appropriate because the sock puppet I made the name for was supposed to be of Indian origin.

If you're still reading, I'm impressed. Everything in the above paragraph is true, but I want to give a shout out to a reader of my blog who complimented me on another site. I've never met this person, who linked to my entry on Düsseldorf. Here's her comment, posted on Trivago.

Si l'en est à croire dwarbi, Düsseldorf est la "party town", une ville de fête. Il lui consacre une page de son site dwarbi's room, narrant ainsi une étape de son voyage à travers l'Allemagne. On y apprendra entre autres un peu plus sur la boisson spéciale servie par ici, sur l'art...

Mais si le texte, en anglais, est simple à lire, ce qui vaut le coup de voir, ce sont les photos sur la page qui s'ouvre quand on clique sur le lien juste à la fin. Les photos, de très bonne qualité s'ajoutent, en tant que photo-roman au texte qui ne devient alors qu'une simple introduction. Aucune publicité ne vient importuner l'internaute pendant sa visite.

Which, using the wonderful Google Translate, I found to mean:

If was to think dwarbi, Düsseldorf is the "party town", a city of celebration. He devotes a page of its website dwarbi's room, narrant a step in its journey through Germany. There will learn among other things a little bit more about the special drink served here, on the art ...

But if the text, in English, is easy to read, which is worth seeing, it is the pictures on the page that appears when you click on the link just at the end. The photos, very good addition, as a photo-novel to the text that becomes a mere introduction. No advertisement comes bothering the user during his visit.

Thanks! (A friend of mine who speaks Google French said this is a compliment.) I love when travelers find the information and photos useful.

(Editor*'s note: Apologies for the infrequent updates. I haven't been traveling much, and my biggest passion of late, besides cooking, has been politics, which I try to keep off this blog. Though I have to point out that it seems no one fully understands the way the Democrats are running their campaign! For example, regarding whether or not Clinton lost a "super delegate" with the resignation of Governor Spitzer, podcast political experts from NRP, Slate and the New York Times have the answer split, with two saying she has lost a delegate and one saying he has not. And was Ferraro officially part of Clinton's campaign or not? I didn't think she was, but from other sources, she was indeed.

So you see, this is why I have not been blogging about politics. There are plenty of other sources to misguide you. Though I am working on a top-secret project that is about neither politics nor name-Googling.)

* That's me!

randyhate

randyhate /heɪt/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ran-dee-heyt] verb, rand·y·hat·ed, rand·y·hat·ing, noun

–verb (used with object)

1.	to dislike intensely or passionately beyond reason; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward something that is really just a little annoying to most people: to randyhate PDF menus; to randyhate hipster music.

2.	to be unwilling; dislike common things: I randyhate to wear shorts.

–verb (used without object)

3.	to feel intense dislike that others might be dismayed by, or extreme aversion or hostility to all things non-plaid.

–noun

4.	intense dislike; extreme aversion or hostility.

5.	the object of extreme aversion or hostility, with the desire to destroy.

---

[Origin: bef. 2003; ME randyhat(i)en, OE randyhatian (v.); c. D randyhaten, ON randyhata, Goth randyhatan, G randyhassen]

—Related forms

randyhater, noun

—Synonyms 1. [none, I randyhate synonyms. Thesauruses are for stupid, lazy people who can't think of the proper word on their own. All thesauruses should be confiscated and burned in a public display of just how stupid they are, and their owners should be beaten. A boosh-bah-gooshgah. {two thumbs down}]

—Antonyms 1. picklelove.

Shiny Head

I had an Oops Moment yesterday, electric razor in hand. There are two times you don't want to have an Oops Moment: when when cutting your hair and when performing a circumcision. I don't perform circumcisions, so, thankfully, my Oops Moment only trimmed my hair too short. I picked up a razor a couple of months ago and knew that someday I would forget to reset the setting. Instead of different clips, it has a dial. Whenever you take the clip off to shake out the hair, it resets to 1. That's 1 millimeter. Bzzz.

Whatever?

While visiting Singapore, I came across a bright yellow canned soft drink called "Whatever" and curiosity got the best of me. There was nothing on the can indicating what might be inside of it. Nowhere could be found the words "cola", "tea" or even "blue blast". I don't remember exactly what the beverage tasted like, and I suppose I never will. The non-carbonated drinks, as well as the carbonated sister drink "Anything", are intentionally sold as questionable products. It's a game of chance. A sort of Russian roulette with soda. Anything could be Cola, Cola with Lemon, Apple, Fizz Up, Cloudy Lemon or Root Beer. Whatever could be Ice Lemon Tea, Peach Tea, Jasmine Green Tea, White Grape Tea, Apple Tea or Chrysanthemum Tea.

I respect the fact that the company is admitting to the consumer that s/he will have no idea what s/he will be consuming. It's hardly ground-breaking. This is already the case with hamburger patty meat and sausages. How about we expand it to movie-going experiences? I can see a half-price crap-shoot cinema in the near future. A production company creates 6 films and releases them to select "I Have No Idea" theaters without any promotions. Only after the lights dim and movie has begun will the audience know if they are about to see a comedy, horror or period drama. Potential. This has got potential.

Anything/Whatever site.

Phew...

...Serge is here now.

Infant Held Captive in New York City

Here's an infant being held captive in NYC:

Take it ALL Off

I've always struggled with the heat, so I decided to cut my hair extremely short to help keep my head cool. Plus, I figured, I'd save hundred on shampoo, hair paste and barber shop visits!

I was considered shaving my head a few months ago, back in Sydney, but it was right around the time I was planning to propose to Dana. Dana wasn't too keen on the idea at the time, and I decided to keep my hair in order to increase the chances of an affirmative response. I got one.

The Sydney shave fest was at my place of employment at the time... it was a fund-raiser for leukemia research called The World's Greatest Shave. It's a good cause, so instead of shaving, I had an entire can of hair coloring dumped on my head, which made breathing fun. Many of my coworkers had their heads shaved, and it changed the entire look of the office. People seemed to glide around much faster, and the southerly wind was much stronger until hairs grew back on heads.

I was a bit worried about what my head would look like after the covering had been removed. A friend of mine found out that he had a conehead. Once bald, he was an excellent diver - no splash at all! - and he did a wicked headspin. They called him The Drill. Sadly, the shape of my head does not have such a unique shape.

Tom shaving my head.

A Sink in New York

Here's a sink in New York.

Fore Hiring: Tranlationer of Français-anglais

As Dana and I prepared to get off our sleeper train from Florence, I noticed a peculiar sign in the hallway. "In the event of declenchment of audible alarm, avacuer the compartiment without precipitation and come into contact with the crew."

This could mean a few things...
- If you are no longer able to continue clenching the audible alarm, leave it in the apartment, but try not to rain, and find the crew.
- The German band Declenchment of Audible Alarm is coming, and it will be quite an event, so you'll have to leave this compartment... I hope it's not raining. The crew is lonely.
- Quit your crying! Get out of the compartment, and quit crying! The audible alarm is no longer clenched, contact the crew! Abandon ship!

Honestly, I'm not exactly sure what this is supposed to mean, but I guess they are instructions on what to do in case of an emergency. An alarm will sound (declench), evacuate the compartment to avoid getting wet from the sprinklers, and wait for the crew for instructions. Something like that. I have a feeling that they used Google Translate to generate the instructions in German, Italian and English, with a French base. I can see how this would cause some problems. Let's experiment, shall we?

Let's start with something I did today:
"Dwarbi drove from his future mother-in-law's house to his future sister-in-law's house. He and his fiance, Dana, stopped by a really great beer store to stock up on some rare brews. The rest of his Sunday will be spent sorting through photos and writing, before grilling up some dinner."

English to French:
"Dwarbi a conduit par la maison de sa future mère à la maison de sa future soeur. Lui et son fiancé, Dana, cessé par un magasin vraiment grand de bière pour stocker vers le haut sur un certain rare brasse. Le reste de son dimanche sera assortir dépensé par des photos et l'écriture, avant de griller vers le haut d'un certain dîner."

French to German:
"Dwarbi hat durch das Haus seiner künftigen Mutter nach dem Haus ihrer künftigen Schwester geführt. Ihn und sein fiancé, Dana, das durch einen wirklich großen Laden Bier aufgehört wurde, um nach oben auf einem bestimmten seltenen Brustschwimmen zu lagern. Der Rest seines Sonntags wird zusammenzustellen durch Photos ausgegeben und die Schrift, bevor man nach oben von einem gewissen Abendessen röstet."

German back to English:
"Dwarbi led by the house of its future nut/mother to the house of its future sister. It and its fiancé, Dana, which by a really large shop beer one stopped, in order to store upward on a certain rare breaststroke swimming. The remainder of its Sundays is spent to arrange by photos and the writing, before one roasts upward from a certain dinner."

Yeah, that could have been the problem.

Now You See It, Now You Don't

As planned, I've switched hosting solutions. The DNS changes should be made today, which means that dwarbi.com and all things dwarbi.com-related will be up one minute, down the next, then back up, then down... for about 24-48 hours. Things should be stable be the end of the weekend.

Wish Me Luck!

Last night I had a dream that my brother came to visit me in Sydney. In the dream he was very adventurous (not so in reality), so we took an elevator up to the top floor of a very tall building to access the roof. Unfortunately, the only way to access the roof of this building is from the 5th floor. The elevators also go in circles on their way to the top, and the floors criss-cross from one level to another. The building doesn't exist in real life. We wanted to get to the roof so that we could base jump off of it, land in Sydney Harbour and wind up in the paper the next day. Unfortunately, I woke up before we managed to find our way through the labyrinth that leads to the top. After some thought, I took it as a sign to try get a new hosting service. Prohosting has been good to me since 2002, but there are just so many options out there offering far better deals! If the transfer goes well, then there will not be much down time, otherwise, I'll try to have the site repaired as quickly as possible.

La Guerra a Firenze (The War in Florence)

Thursday 21 June 2007 22:44
Weary from travel from the mountains of Cortona to the city along the Arno, Firenze, my betrothed and I sink into a deep slumber. Our security is ensured by a trusted donna, our only oversight, a window left cracked to provide some fresh air. The breeze is slight, sweat beads on our motionless bodies.

Friday 22 June 2007 02:03
A noise close to my ear abruptly delivers me from the land of my pleasant dreams to that of my harsh reality. I sit up, my senses sharp. Alert, trying to locate the source of noise, but careful not to awake my partner unless necessary. Too late. She, too, rises, and soon we know our enemy: zanzaras. Scores of them. They have surrounded us. We decide to lay low and hope that they move on.

Friday 22 June 2007 02:18
It is clear that the zanzaras have visited us with bad intent. They have begun their attack. We swat: at our ankles, at our forearms, at our ears. Our attempts at defense are pathetic in the dark of night. A decision is made. We must begin an offensive.

Friday 22 June 2007 02:19
The room is bathed in light, and the zanzaras are given one last chance to escape into the open city. Few chose to flee, and the fate of the rest is sealed with the closing of the latch on the window. For 40 minutes we search an execute. None are spared. Some meet their end with a clap in my hands, their blood - our blood - covers my palms. Other sit on the wall and pray with their probiscus not to be noticed, but none pass my notices, and these are smashed to the wall with a bang. Still others need to be driven out into the open with the wave of our tovaglioli. Stirred from their hiding places, they come to death just as the others.

Friday 22 June 2007 02:59
Our simple room, meant to be a place of refuge, is speckled with the bodies of the dead. Splattered are the walls, the floors, our own selves. We are weary once more. The last of the zanzaras are found and destroyed. These were quicker than the others. Virgin zanzaras, yet to drink of the milk of humans, and so quicker in flight and much harder to secure. At last the war has ended. Once again, we take our places in the base. Sleep overwhelms us once more. But we know that this night, La Notte Delle Zanzare, will be remembered.

54 Squid For a Java, Govna

I begin this post with a horrociously bastardised title as a shout out to good ole señor Bush, whose gaffs with the Queen of England today made big-time headlines. I don't usually blog about current events, whether it's winking presidents or homosexual necrophiliac ducks, since there are a million other blogs to cover that. I prefer to stick to entries of a more personal nature, and, believe or not, neither of these stories hit too close to home. Nonetheless, I will continue. If there is one thing I appreciate about President Bush, it's that he seems down to earth. If there's one thing I appreciate about mallards, it's that they're very open-minded and non-judgmental. And I'm thankful that there were no ducks present at the ceremony. I take that back. That would have been really funny. Even funnier if GW made some comment about the "First King, Jimmy the Greek" while the ducks were at it.

Onwards. I've been collecting 5 cent pieces for some time... the goal being the purchase of a large cup of coffee from the guys down at Bar Balini. I've been going down there for years, and they hassle me whenever they can, so why not drop 54 tiny little annoying coins on their counter? At this moment, as an American, it's especially appropriate for me to burden some servants of a long-forsaken British colony with Queen Elizabeth II.

I was quite surprised when I spilled the despicable silver onto the counter and neither Michael nor Anthony batted an eye. I thought for sure one of them would bat my head. Then I noticed a pile of silver next to mine... obviously the buying power not of a prankster, but a knucklehead who doesn't understand what a hassle it is for these guys! At least I intended to inconvenience them! Anthony shook his head and said, "Goddam, mate," as he scooped the coins off the counter and picked the strays from the tuna salad meant for lunch.

A Case of the Actually's

Summer colds have their way of digging into an office and spreading quickly from one person to the next. There was a recent outbreak of Actually in my office and I'm still fighting it. I think I know who brought it in, with "actually" breaking out several times in single sentences spoken by a coworker for the past few weeks. I'm sure my coworker thought that the virus could be beat and carried on, but it has spread: today I heard "actually" spoken over a hundred times, and almost never meant to express wonder, surprise, or incredulity.

Actually I heard the actual word spoken quite often actually.

Dammit!

None of us are safe.

Yes, I just got over a case of the Basically's and am not looking forward to dealing with the Actually's. If you work in an office and catch a language bug, please stay home until you are well.

Sydney Under Attack!

Sydney descended into chaos today as the fine capitol of New South Wales, Australia, was invaded by a fleet of ships, apparently a coalition of American, British and New Zealand forces.

It began at the break of dawn, when one of the largest ships in the world, the Queen Mary 2, built by the British, commanded by the Kiwis and containing mostly American forces, sneaked into Sydney Harbour. A tremendous response fleet of volunteer craft, mostly constituted of brave Australian fishermen, aged 16 to 67, swarmed the ship, and the New South Wales fire brigade released their fleet to propel the monstrous vessel. The QM2, nearly the size of the Empire State Building, recklessly, audaciously and easily plowed though our first line of defense.

Arriving as such a surprise, the ship was able to quickly sink anchor near the homes of Nicole Kidman, Mel Gibson and Russel Crowe. Wire services say the celebrities were safely brought off of Australian territory, thanks largely to their ties with the invading nations. Baz Luhrmann, on the other hand, was left to fend for himself. Paris Hilton was reportedly unable to find transport back to her native land.

Over 2,600 "passengers" stormed through the anxious crowd of Sydney-siders, making their way swiftly into the city centre. CBD was overwhelmed and there have been reports of mass hysteria in the streets. Intersections were gridlocked, entire streets came to a standstill and people took to foot to flee the city. Nary a Sydney-sider exists who has not been affected by today's horrific events.

With much of Australia's own army overseas, and it's navy consisting of nothing but what can be found at the Australian Maritime Museum, air support was called in. The Red Baron, and it's accompanying aircraft, the Red Bull, joined forces with the F-111 fleet and several Black Hawks to remind the invaders that we have weapons too.

For much of the rest of 20 February, 2007, the city put forth a steady resurgence, but the stakes were raised at dusk when the Queen Mary 2 was joined by another large invasion ship: The Queen Elizabeth 2. The ships acknowledged each other with a series of coded honks before the new ship dropped anchor directly in front of the Sydney Overseas Passenger Terminal and let its inhabitants loose upon the city. Cruise Bar and Doyle's were the first to be overcome by the wrath unleashed upon them.

Australia quickly responded, firing cannons from Fort Denison and displaying an impressive show of our works of fire unto the Harbour. The result was largely successful, with the departure of the initial aggressor, the Queen Mary 2, though it is rumoured that some 1,600 of its number did not board before it left.

As citizens of this fine country we must continue to fight, and we must continue to seek out any of their number who have infiltrated our city, prepared to perform acts of sabotage or release propaganda to our peoples. As of the moment of my filing this report, the streets are ablaze with the activities of the invaders. The alarming number of shouts and screams indicate that they have taken over. Be on alert.

Good night, and good luck.

More on Howard

John Howard has been Australia's Prime Minister for over ten years, the second longest in Australia's long history. He has been a very popular PM, but this popularity has been waning a bit in recent years. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but Howard has retained his seat by waiving the election whenever it comes up or something like that.

Born in Sydney in 1939, Howard knew he was meant for politics after his successful bid for Class President in 1946 thanks to his "Bring the Troops Home" campaign. After a few years in office, his politics became more conservative. Upon re-election for Class President in 1949, his "Send the Troops Back" campaign was met with lukewarm reception. He lost his seat and was grounded.

After a brief stint with The Muppets in the 70's, Howard returned to politics. Around this time his vision started fading and he had his eyebrows surgically moved from his forehead to the top of his glasses.

"John" comes from the Hebrew for "God is merciful".

"Howard" has an English origin, meaning "guardian of the home". It was also the name of a duck who travelled to this planet in the 80s and became very famous.

So "John Howard" means he's going to guard your home and, as a last resort, pray for God's mercy.

More on Obama

After my last post I've been prompted to write more...

Barack Hussein Obama is a shooting star in American politics. Even his harshest critics admit that he's willing to negotiate and compromise. Just a few weeks ago a fellow Democratic candidate who announced his candidacy wound up spending more time stumping for Obama than for himself. Yeah, sure, it had something to do with covering up for a statement that could have been perceived as a racial slur, but even Rev. Jesse Jackson said that Joe Biden meant nothing by it. The point is, it's hard to not like this guy... but then you have his name: Barack Hussein Obama.

"Barack" means nothing to most people, unless you live in Australia, in which case you should cheer for the guy.

"Hussein", of course, reminds us of the dictator that tried to kill Bush Sr, was toppled and dragged out late at night to be hung before an angry crowd. And before a mobile phone.

"Obama"... just one letter of from the big guy, the West's villain, the Great Satan's Great Satan.

For those of us who see hope in Obama, like me, let's take solace in the fact that Senator Obama changed his name not long ago from Adolf Hussein Osama to it's current state of less-offenciveness.

Will the American people refuse to elect a guy because his name calls to mind a current war that has cost over 3000 American lives and a terrorist attack that claimed nearly 3000 American lives? I don't think so. Americans who think that way would not vote for him in the first place. It's too early to tell who will win an election that's over a year and a half away, but Barack Hussein Obama has just as much a shot as Kim Jong Mološević Stalen.

Howard vs Obama

It's great to be in the middle of this one. Finally I get to be an American living in Australia who is asked about an American politician, and not in a sarcastic tone.

I am asked, "Johnny Howard really ----ed up, huh? What do you think of Obama?"
I respond,
"If you watch Comedy Central, you know as much as I do."
- or -
"$20 if you can tell me if Obama is his first name or last name."
- or -
"$20 if you can tell me what Obama's Christian name is. (trick question?!)"
- or -
"If Obama's middle name had an alliance to a recent-living or recently-made-not-so-living dictator, which would it be?"
- or -
"What was Obama's stance on off-duty police officers carrying a gun?"

That last one gets them all the time. On a serious note, I think most Australians regret that their PM aligned himself with one party. Tony Blair would have shot himself in the foot if he had positioned himself so closely to Clinton back in the 90s... or if he had aimed a gun aimed at his foot.

The positive thing about this whole episode is now Americans know who John Howard is. Don't worry, they'll forget.

A Personal Message From MacGyver's Arch-Enemy, Murdoch

Looks like MacGyver's nemesis, Murdoch (played by Michael des Barres) didn't appreciate my MacGyver post. Today I found this autographed photo pinned to my front door with a machete. There's a lovely, maniacal note on the back wishing me well and calling for vengeance on MacGyver.

Keep the fan mail coming!

A Personal Message From MacGyver

Wow. I'm beside myself. I look over at myself, sitting right next to me and say, "How 'bout that!" The self to my side replies, "Yeah, it's something!"

Moments after posting my 100th blog post, a Dwarbi's Roof fan, MacGyver's own Richard Dean Anderson sent me a note of congratulatory congratulations.

Thanks Richie!