So, thirteen years later I’m leaving my software-man job at Intuit. In 2001 I graduated from college and moved all my shit out to San Jose to live with the madddddddddd scientist and Kim. This was before he was the maddddddddd scientist though, Judd had yet to christen him with the name.
Ah the early days in California: listening the City Spud and the Saint Lunatics, playing Whazz and drinking High Life. Every weekend heading down to the Mission Ale House to do… something. Still not sure what. Then came a wife, then a divorce and a move back home. Even while my life was going through weird shitphases my job was stable and (mostly) unchanging.
Now I’m headed to something a little different here in Madison. I started Monday at adorable.io and I’m really excited. I can’t wait to taste a job that isn’t an Ultra-Mega Corporation.
Sorry gentlemen! My RSS reader was fucked up and I didn’t see any comments coming through. I guess I just figured you were all feeling each other up in a Minneapolis park and didn’t have time to check in on lil’ old Whazzmaster.com anymore.
In your honor I am revealing this Newd Post. Spacebee and I are kinda tired from no sleep at night, so I currently have no other topics to discuss.
I’ve got nothing much to say about anything, but the old thread is long and we’ll have new baby news any day now.
Spacebee and I are heading out to Pasadena tomorrow (Friday, 12/30) to hit The Rose Bowl and attendant partay-ing. It should be a fun trip, as I was adamant that we do absolutely no sightseeing or touristy shit. I think the Rose Bowl/pre-party/tailgates/etc. will be fun, but I other than that I just want to sit around and be lazy. The Badger Pep Rally is on the Santa Monica Pier and I can only hope that I see Phillip Seymour Hoffman there walking his dog or whatever. I’ll say to him, “I DON’T WAIT FOR OLD PEOPLE!” and then giggle.
In other sad but awesome news, Yuri left Intuit to join a startup and he’s headed down to San Antonio for three months to get acquainted and get down to biz-nass. He’s leaving next Thursday and we get back from California on Wednesday. I’m down to have a good ol’ sendoff- anyone else?
CAL CAL CAL!
Here’s some Childish Gambino for you…
Anything else? SOPA is shitty! I’ll probably have to shut off comments on whazzmaster if it passes- which sucks. All so some shit-eating hollywood-man can add another bottle of Dom to his bathtub. Fuck SOPA.
Well, well. Looky here. Those dudes accepted our offer, and we’re tentatively closing May 26th. Scientist is a shrewd negotiator; I wouldn’t want to have to sell him my house. For those who are way interested, we’ll be walking through the house on Thursday morning with our parents- stop on by if you want to check out the place.
Based on what we’re hearing from our current landlord we may be moving in a blaze of glory between May 26th and June 1st so that we don’t have to pay rent for June, July, and August. I’m conceiving a Moving-Party-slash-Memorial-Day-Cookout-Spectacular. Raise your hand if you’re down- and no, you’re not forced to help us move, just show up for a hamburger.
Right here on this very website the MADDDDDDDDDD SCIENTIST taught us how to appropriately welcome a baby into the world: with PLOITers and remote observation of ice-fishing. The result: HWK, a name worthy of the Whazz 99 leaderboard. First column? In time. When our descendants return to the long lost .tar.gz files of zipped up ‘web-sites’ to learn the history of their clan, it shall be written that the child’s birth was HERALDED by the RETURN OF ARLO. Who was this stranger whose presence was almost invisible, yet whose return was celebrated so excitedly by the ancient weirdos who hung out at whazzmaster.com?
I wish I had more profound things to say before I pivot to Current Events; I’m sure the comment thread will overflow with good tidings and links to centralwisconsinsports.net articles so I’ll let that take care of itself. Good luck HWK, and don’t let your old man fool you into thinking that it’s a good idea to hit a driver from the fringe. IT’S DUMB! 5 IRON 5 IRON 5 IRON 5 IRON!
Soooo, see that house up there? We really like it. We’re thinking seriously about trying to buy it. It is very expensive, but includes everything we want in a house that will grow with us for the foreseeable future. Five bedrooms, large kitchen, two car garage, one block from the Monroe St shops (including Trader Joe’s). Location, space, and really nice interior is a perfect storm that we’re willing to stretch to try to get. If it doesn’t work out then it’ll be back to the MLS mines to try to dig out another gold nugget, but for now I’m really excited about this one.
Lots of stuff happened this week while we were in Sint Maarten (they spell stuff oddly there), so let’s get right to it:
Extremely warm and beautiful weather
Had no part to play in the Midwest Snowpocalypse
Delicious seafood everywhere I went
A rockin’ speedboat day tour of the island, including visits to a topless beach and Stacy whipping my sunglasses to the bottom of the ocean
Blackjack (boo!) and roulette (yeah!) situated 10 feet from the lobby of our hotel
I proudly and excitedly purchased a bottle of Macallan 12yr Fine Oak (see right) which I did not know existed. I have brought home with me 2/3 of a bottle for y’all to enjoy.
Disturbingly low-priced jewelry
All the Canadians (the good ones)
Weirdly, when you’re all-inclusive (including booze) they make the drinks 10 times stronger. For about half the trip I would wake up with a oh-shit-I’m-late-for-school start and wonder how I got there, then think about the numerous rum goblets I drank by the pool, as well as the half dozen Carib beers I had with dinner and at the casino.
We met (maybe) five service workers in our hotel and surrounding restaurants that weren’t outright rude, hostile, or indifferent to us. Bar none, it was the worst collective service I have ever had in my entire life.
We stayed in Phillipsburg, which is the port where the cruise ships come in. Very, very big con: the entirety of the town runs on the Cruise Ship Clock. Cruise ships leave port around 5pm, at which point Phillipsburg becomes a scary ghost town filled with packs of stray dogs. None of what I just said is an exaggeration or lie. The night we got there, we figured we’d stroll into town and get some dinner at around 6pm. We walked, and walked, and walked and only saw shuttered doors like the ones you see in real bad parts of Market St in SF. Like, we had no idea what these stores were because it wasn’t bars or a steel chain curtain. There were Star Wars blast doors that covered the whole front of the building. We hesitantly made our way deeper into the area and found nothing but wandering stray dogs and people yelling at us from porches. We headed a block over to the boardwalk (hoping to find jamming beachside bars or restaurants) and literally the only thing we found was a deserted Hard Rock Cafe where the few workers unlucky enough to be stuck on a night shift paid us little to no mind.
Do not, under any circumstances, assume that just because a place says it has ‘wi-fi’ that it actually does or that you can use it. I paid $73 for eight days of wifi access at the hotel, and as Stacy can attest I spent most of that swearing at my iPad and threatening to throw it out a window. Their scheme is brilliant: have too little area coverage, and then hire someone to power cycle the wireless access point approximately once every two minutes. Also, hook your access point up to the internet with a 1600 baud modem and let your entire guest list share that bandwidth. Loading whazzmaster.com took, on average, 10 tries and 15 minutes (to see one page).
All the Canadians (the rude and boorish ones)
The heat pump in our apartment failed sometime when we were gone, so we got in late Saturday evening to a freezing house and a pissed-off cat.
Phillipsburg is actually really banging during the day. All those scary deserted streets are actually filled with Cartier, Ralph Lauren, Lacoste, and a quadrillion jewelry stores during the day. And there are three dozen jamming beach-side bars whose happy hour runs from 11am-noon. On the other side of the island
The fact that, even with enragingly bad customer service, I still had the time of my life says something about the place. I’d definitely go back, but probably wouldn’t stay in the same place. I’d probably try to catch a joint down in Simpson Bay, where there actually is a ton of nightlife and stuff to do outside the hotel after 5pm.
That’s about all I’ve got for now- I’m going to rest my weary, travelin’ bones and then cheer my ass off for the Super Bowl this evening. Once we get all the pictures we took uploaded from Spacebee’s camera then I’ll get some links up. There. Are. Some. Good-uns.
Did Michigan Springer really throw his blackberry into an icehole? Was it really gravy? Go Packers.
Happy Birthday to Wwhazz! Happy Birthday to Madd Scientist! Happy Birthday to Manders! Happy Birthday to Alandovos! Happy Birthday to Peapods! (Shameful omission, that.) Lots of spring fucking goings on in the late 70s and early 80s.
At any rate, we had a swell (SWELL) time this weekend at a combination Wwhazz Birthday Whazz Tournament & Poker-Playing Contest-slash-Green Bay Packer Victory Party at the Dry Bean. I knew that Green Bay had won when I approached wwhazz at the bar and said “What’s up, man?” and he succinctly responded, “Bargle.” The bar was loud so I asked for clarification; “What?” I asked. “Frohnum,” he blurted out as he slumped his head down onto the bar. I knew then (as I know now) that it was time to leave.
So yes, yes the good ol’ Green Bay Packers are in the Sooper Bowl on February Something. I’m not sure of the exact date because from this Wednesday (tomorrow!) until the day before that Super-Duperest of Bowls me and the little lady will be down in St. Maarten on a beeeeeeeeeeeeeeach. I’ll be dozing and she’ll be drinking some sort of rum-infused cocktail through a curly straw. I think they have some activities where you can swim with sharks, or even walk through a bad part of town with your money and passport dangling out of your pocket. I’m excited.
I heard they have casinos both (a) in the hotel and (b) elsewhere on the island as well. No craps in the hotel, but supposedly poker. HO-CHO!
Anything else happen this week? I guess Scientist learned how to deliver a baby; I hear he’s taking reservations for midwifery starting in late Smarch.
I’m proud to announce that after 8 years, 3 months, and 12 days we’ve reached the 1,000th post to whazzmaster.com. From its humble beginnings as a clearinghouse for my rants about tater tot packaging, to the towering heights when Old Man hung out talking trash with people he had never met, to its present-day state of sleepy sniping between the Madd Scientist and Cal, whazzmaster.com has endured.
Without this dumb thing I’d be completely unaware of the present state of theoretical economics, and I would never have seen Brock breakdancing nor would I have seen an online battle rap conducted over thousands of miles.
I started a website in 1997 (Chaos Central), turned it into a Perl-driven ‘blog’ (the word wasn’t invented yet) in 1999, and rewrote the whole thing using PHP in 2001. When I had the opportunity to pick a domain name there was only one that occurred: I’m the master of whazz (courtesy of my then-newly purchased Golden Tee machine), hence whazzmaster.com.
I’m pleased as punch the way I was able to stay in contact with my Madison pals through this dumb thing, and I continue to marvel that more than one person (me) ever comes here and expends the energy to yell at people and post links to videos, pictures, and items for sale.
Thanks for a G of fun, here’s looking forward to 2012 when we get to celebrate whazzmaster.com’s 10 year anniversary.
Spacebee and I headed down Illinois-way for a surprise birthday extravadanza for Spacebee’s Mom. It was a fun time all around, but the highlight was kinda-sorta an accident.
It was a surprise that spacebee and I would attend, so we had to be kept under lock and key until the party on Saturday night. As such I demanded to go play golf with my future Brother-in-Law on Saturday morning. After an early deluge of rain we headed out Cedar Dell for some country golfin’ action. I played, literally, my worst game of the year and lost $8 to my opponent (almost the max I could lose.)
After a few drinks at the club house we headed to another country tavern so that I could sample the Best Burger in Town. It was, as advertised, delicious.
Finally, as we moseyed back to the house my ever-alert passenger mentioned in passing, “you realize we’re close to Stoney’s, don’t you?” Stoney’s is the greatest bar in Illinois, and high in the running for Best Bar Worldwide (though it would never top the Main Depot.) Stoney’s is 1/2 liquor store and 1/2 bar. There are two dart boards and Golden Tee classic. Enough said.
So we stopped in for one (Just One!) and chatted with the bartender and other patron (singular). Just as we were finishing our drinks my partner sputtered a little bit of drink and said “Quince!” (the bartenders name was Quincy. I swear.) “Quince!” he said, “lemme get the shake of the day.” He plopped a dollar on the bar and rolled for shit. He passed me the dice cup and said “Zach, you’re up.” The next things all happened simultaneously:
The other patron said “I hope you win but not before I roll.”
With one hand I produced a $5 bill and told Quince that I’d need change
With the other hand I tipped the cup and rolled five 3’s, the result of which was that…
…I won $1000
After that there was lots of running around, yelling, high-fives, and congratulatory High Life’s. Also: lots of reminiscing about previous winners and the circumstances of the wins. Also: drinking.
Well, I used up my dice-based luck for the next decade– what did you guys do this weekend?