Welcome back, y’all. I been downright spacious around here lately, as I motored back and forth between Madison, San Francisco, and Chicago. I’m around for a minute now, though, and hoo-boy can I say that it looks like the Brewers are gonna suck this year. What’s the deal with airplane food? My flight from SFO-MSP had to make an emergency landing in RENO because some guy had a heart attack or something. I dunno- they landed the plane, EMTs came on-board and carried him off, then they gassed up the plane and we flew away. I would have liked to stay in Reno and GAMBO but alas we never got off the plane. HARRAH’S (HARRY’S)
Here’s the juicy news I heard while out in the yay area: 4nyay has a son now. If we ever see him again we can congratulate him, I guess. I didn’t bother looking Cal up because I didn’t have enough time to trudge into the city via train or car. Instead I frantically tried to get all my work done so they don’t fire me.
This week: DOO-BOO-QUEUE. Next week: THE WORLD.
Are we going to the gol-dang ewe-pee? I need to know so’s I can ask off from work.
Whatever I don’t know what to write on this webzone anymore. So I’m back from India and I’m sorry I didn’t update with more updates before I left but I think the lack of hamburgers got to me after a while and I just stopped caring anymore.
I’m looking forward to the DOO-BOO-QUEUE trip and hey! Maybe we could even get the Bunkster to meet us down there? I’ll do some investigative reporting and find out what’s up. In the meantime, you guys argue in the comments for awhile.
I am in France. It is 8am here but in reality it is 1:26AM Central Time. The Paris airport is odd; Gucci and Burberry stores everywhere I don’t think I can afford to even breath the air in here. I don’t know how much this internet is costing me but I’ll just go ahead and assume it’s a ton.
The flight from Detroit to Paris was uneventful; I didn’t have the fancy-as-shit lie-flat seats for that leg (although I think I have one on the next flight) but the service and food was amazing. The nice lady in the seat next to mine dumped a glass of red wine on me when they came to collect our dinner plates. Sad time. I slept for about 2 hours. I have to say it was odd to get on the plane at 6pm (light out!) fly across the ocean and get out at 8am (light out!) while not having 14 hours actually elapse.
It just occurred to me that you fools might be hanging out. Nope, just checked and you’re not.
So anyways here I am in Paris. Well, the Paris airport at any rate. I’ll be moseying along to India in about 2 hours.
My Itinerary: 1 hour flight to Detroit, 4 hour layover in Detroit, 8 hour flight to Paris, 3 hour layover in Paris, 9 hour flight to Bangalore. Left Madison at noon on Thursday and I will get into Bangalore at 11:45pm Friday. I’m meeting Fuddruckus on the other side of the planet for breakfast on Sunday. He’ll likely be late.
[UPDATE 1] I am in India. Had a snafu at the airport and couldn’t find the driver so I took a shady-as-hell cab to the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. My room is dope as hell, and I’m starting to unwind from The Eternal Traveling. It’s 2:06am local time and my body has no idea at all what to do. Not real sleepy, not entirely hungry. I think I’ll drink a beer? Maybe? More to come; the weekend is for jet lag recovery and figuring out how to do a speedy INR-to-USD conversion in my head.
[UPDATE 2] I am in India. I spent the vast majority of my day drinking champagne at various sites in the city. Met Fuddruckus for coffee in the morning and then had a bottle of prosecco at the Lotus Pavilion. Later on we met up with some other Intuit folks for brunch at the Leela Palace; holy hell was it expansive and delicious. I fell asleep at 9:30pm but am now completely awake at 3:30am. Today is gonna be one tiring affaire. Did the Packers win?
[UPDATE 3] I am in India. Spent the day here with the rest of the team. It culminated in drinking Budweiser at a nearby resort and having a dance contest with a coworker that drank a bottle of wine during lunch. #iwon Going out shopping with fuddruckus before he heads back murica but later tonight I’ll update with more and answer scientist’s questions from comments.
[UPDATE 4] I am in India. Q&A Time! I am sleeping well these days, and I woke up this morning and hit the gym for awhile. Now I’m sitting in the pavilion drinking Kingfisher and reading the internet while I install a build from the India servers to my triage machine. As such, I have the luxury of time and so I will answer some questions I have received:
how is butt? exploding? No, my digestive track is holding up pretty well.
how is not getting kidnapped? kidnapped? No, I have not been kidnapped.
how is champagne? cheaper? Way more expensive, but hard to tell because of exchange rates.
how is fudddddddd? escaped back to amurika? He achieved exit velocity two nights ago and should be back in the Yay Area now.
Regarding the Flat Tire Disaster of Oh-12:
was it a joyful learning experience? Joyful? No. Learning Experience? Yes.
was it a slightly annoying repressed anger feigned smiles experience? It’s hard to be angry about a flat tire when you look out your car window (on your 45 minute-to-2 hour commute) and see unbridaled poverty and destruction everywhere, all the time. Like, if you ever have a meeting scheduled with someone in Bangalore and they are 10 minutes late I implore you to not be mad or give them shit. They were possibly detained by literally a cow being in the middle of the road. Not a rural road either, a downtown throroughfare. Like if Market St traffic in SF was ground to a halt because a bike hit a cow.
was it an all out scream fest? did you chastise the driver? the driver’s company? the people that set you up with the company? No, no, no, and no. We felt real bad for the guy and tipped him extra huge ($20 ~ Rs 1000 which the biggest bill available in this currency) because he had to pay for the new tire(s) himself. The whole “hole in the tire and then the spare tire was also flat” situation happened Monday, but on Thursday when we arrived at the office we got out and the damn new tire had a giant hole in it. The driver looked sad and then we felt sad.
[UPDATE 5] I am in India. I’m at the hotel’s Sunday Brunch right now. Really nice (though not as wonderful as the Leela Palace brunch last weekend), but something is starting to get to me. I realize that this paints me in an unflattering, stupid-american light but I’m starting to lose my shit with regard to eating. I’m down to about one meal per day because I’m starting to not be able to stand Indian cuisine at every meal. I’m usually eating a VERY large breakfast because the buffet at the hotel includes many Americanized dishes I can gorge on before I head to work with the looming lunch choice of <Insert Something> Curry and Rice or a McDonald’s Spicy Chicken sandwich. In the eight days I’ve been here I’ve eaten dinner three times, with one being a team dinner at another swank hotel, and two being pizza from room service. I must commend the ITC Garndenia on their pepperoni, bell pepper, and fontina pizza: it is GOOD. The restaurant also makes a very, very good asparagus and pea risotto.
I just decided I’m going to eat nonsense for brunch today and skip dinner again. I’m already TIPSY~! on two big rum & cokes (hi spacebee!) so I figure I’ll stuff myself with biryani, sushi, veggie fried rice, and a shitload of desserts and then sleep the afternoon away. I may call up Fudd’s homey Anup (a very liberal local Intuiter) to hit some kind of karaoke tonight, I guess we’ll see if I’m hungover by 4pm or not.
Last week was a fairly chilled out California trip; I had so many meetings at work that there wasn’t a whole lot of time for much else. I did get to hang out with fuddruckus and manders a couple of nights, but I wasn’t able to go on a date with GMX. I also wanted to go see which off-ramp Cal is living under these days but couldn’t swing a trip up to the city.
I made a pretty dumb mistake with my flight booking and so I left San Heezy at 9am and didn’t get into Madison until 11pm. Along the way I stopped in beautiful LAX and MSP (ed note: LAX not beautiful). I found out that my new credit card allows me $25 access to the Delta Sky Club and it’s all-you-can-drink booze and comfortable chairs. I wouldn’t normally do that but I had a 2.5 hour layover at LAX and a 3 hour layover in MSP so I jumped in with both feet. The result: pretty drunk on the last MSP ✈ MSN leg. I almost forgot my Kindle in the seat pocket when I staggered off the plane to baggage claim.
For those that weren’t following along, I was holding court on various Star Trek: The Next Generation topics while pounding Canadian Club & Cokes:
While I was out in California I was alerted to the fact that I might need to go to Bangalore, India on a trip at some point this fall. Fuddruckus told me scary stories of goats eating burning piles of garbage on the side of the road, and neverending sickness from drinking the water. That scares me. However, the ability to get 20,000+ airline miles would bump me from being treated like a Dickhead every time ti fly to being treated like a Chump. It doesn’t sound like much, but it is. Also, at least then I could say I’ve been to India? Right? RIGHT?!
Yes, I’m the star of the hit show: Vegas! This one’s a reboot after four years in development hell. Seal Team Seven dropped into McCarran Airport at 9:30am on Friday and we were checked-in at TheHOTEL by 10:30am.
A little lunch (tequila) and we were off and running at the tables. I won $75 playing craps, and then wandered over where the rest of our group was playing roulette. Played my usual style (heavy on 20, lighter on 12, spread the table to hedge) and in four spins I went [12, 12, blank, 20]. After the back-to-back twelves I was heavyheavyheavy on the 20 when it hit- I think I won $500 or $600 on just the 20. I kept hitting numbers so on an off chance I just threw a hundo on 20 to see if vegas had decided it was my time to fucking SHINE. Nope, not that lucky.
We went and threw down a G-ball on steaks and scotch. I had some roasted marrow bones that grossed out most of the table (though Spacebee did eat some!) and then we headed back to the tables. Went up another $350 at craps and then met everyone for live band karaoke at the House of Blues. Sat and drank beer, vodka, and more during that little run and then they closed the show down around 2:30am (right before I was up on the list to sing Jump Around!)
I’d been drinking since lunchtime (the full list: beer, scotch, vodka, tequila, red wine, and two hundred 7&7’s) so I swayed over to the roulette table again and played some more numbers. I hit the 12 and 20 again and was up about $400 when I decided to take my winnings and quit while I was ahead. I colored up my chips, tipped the dealer, and what I had was a bunch of blacks and one $25 greenie. I threw the greenie on 20 and it hit on the next spin. Boom: $900 holmes. I was so drunk that I didn’t even get excited. I just swayed there and grinned for about 5 minutes, then went to pee.
Two of the folks we were with went to bed 45 seconds before the big score, and then the other four of us were trying to decide what to do. The other couple asked if we wanted to go to bed since we’d been up since 3am, Vegas-time, and I yelled “I’m rich biatch! We’re partyin’!” We went to the Minus 5 Ice Bar in the Mandalay and I bought fur coats for the ladies so they could sit on an ice bench and drink Snowflakes. Spacebee was very wobbly in the ice bar, and everyone thought I was the Incredible Hulk the way I was still functioning like a hue-man given the amount I’d drank. We retired at about 4:30am.
So on Friday I bought into chips for $200 after lunch and when I went to bed I had $2400 in chips in my pocket.
Cue ominous, distant thunder.
I spent some fo the winnings to rent a cabana by the pool on Saturday. They were pretty booked up but they reserved us one and said we had to get downstairs before 10:30a or they’d charge my held card number and give away the reservation. I awoke to a bad (but not too bad, considering) hangover, pulled clothes on, and stumbled down towards the pool at 10am while everyone else slept in or ate breakfast. In the elevator I cursed at the thumping disco music to the amusement of the other occupants. Halfway across the vast Mandalay casino floor I had to stop and give myself a pep talk that I’d make it to the pool. I approached the cabana host counter and asked the nice lady working there if she’d kill me. She looked concerned and said, “…no.” They took me over to the cabana and the host asked if he could get me anything. I asked politely for coffee, and then I curled up in a ball and slept in the corner of the cabana until everyone else showed up (some not until 2pm).
Later in the evening we had dinner and then headed down to Fremont Street. Holy fucking hell that place has gone to shit. By which I mean: it used to be a respite from the dumb bullshit on the strip, but every casino I walked into had $10 or $15 minimum tables and were packed to the gills. The booming music, the collective wal*mart patrons of america clientele, the dancing grannies. I could put up with all that for $3 craps, but no fucking way am I gonna endure that for the same table minimums I would find on the strip.
I lost every bet I made on Saturday.
I lost nearly every bet I made on Sunday.
We went and saw the Love show at The Mirage on Sunday night. Afterwards we wandered into O’Sheas and whooped it up with some $5 craps. Then we walked all the way back to the Monte Carlo and jumped a cab from there back to the hotel due to whining and yelling by the ladyfolk.
This morning I checked my funds and saw that the three dinners, cabana rental, minus 5 ice spectacular, and most of all 48 hours of consecutive losses had brought me back from my winner’s high on Friday. Ah well, we did have a fantastic time and the big score on Friday more than makes up for the dreary gambling on Saturday and Sunday.
[UPDATE] whazzmaster.com is now officially blocked on the Intuit intranet. Probably because of the name of the post, but maybe not.
The Rose Bowl was what it was: disappointing but fun. We arrived late, late Friday evening and slumped into bed. Saturday was the pep rally on the Santa Monica pier, and we headed down early to get a bite to eat at the Scientist-recommended Mariasol. No sea monster sightings, but I did spy the fishermen/federal marshals hanging out with their “fishing poles.” The marine layer here has been utterly bonkers all weekend. The morning starts out sunny, but by noon you can’t see more than a block away. Case in point, by the time the Badger players arrived at the pep rally it was around 45 degrees and visibility was about 50 yards.
Saturday evening our original plan was to go out in Santa Monica and take it easy. I didn’t want to chance a club with lines and lists, and preferred the idea of just having a six pack in our hotel room. Until, that is, I found out that See-Yew and the Bay Area Badger crew were partying in Pasadena for NYE.
We finagled a ride to Pasadena and back to Santa Monica (on NYE!) and headed out. I met about ten million former fuddruckus direct-reports and drank two gigantic Jameson shots. The shots were curiously world-ending for me; I didn’t leave the room on New Year’s Day and just laid around and moaned loudly. To Spacebee’s credit, she got sick of the moaning and left the room for awhile to see the sights. My total meal consumption on New Year’s Day: hamburger/fries, pepperoni pizza, ice cream & cookies. Sigh.
The day of the Rose Bowl we woke up early and got dressed in our epic multitude of Badger Stuff. Beads, pins, shirts, stickers, sunglasses, and more. The bus to Pasadena arrived late and we sat in traffic for a looong time. We had tickets to the 10:30a-1p Badger Blast tailgate (all-u-can-eat/drink) but didn’t end up getting there until 11:30a. Sad face, but we still managed to get a brat and a few beers.
The game was very exciting, and the only problem was that we were in a micro-island of Badger fans swimming in a sea of Oregon fanatics. It made it all the more sad at the end as it was slow-going getting down the aisle what with Ducks fans dancing in it.
Tuesday was probably the best day we had out in California; the sun was shining in Santa Monica and after checked out we had a few hours to kill so we walked around the downtown area, had luncho at Ye Olde King’s Something-Something, visited the Palisades (bro!), and wandered down the pier one more time to see if we could catch a glimpse of the Monkfish. Alas! No monkfish.
Spacebee and I are headed for San Francisco this morning; it’s the staging ground for the final day of our trip. We’ll check-in, throw on our Badger gear, and then head over to Aces to watch the game. We have it on good authority that Badger fans are welcome there.
I also threw out an invite to Cal and his Lady to head on over and join us. Maybe he’s out lawyering tonight, though.
It was a hectic as shit week out here, but Spacebee seemed to have fun and I was able to juggle work and fun-onna-bun socializing. Fuddruckus and Manders took us to Cin-Cin in Los Gatos, and it was A+ fantastic.
So tomorrow morning we’re headed home- I’m looking forward to quite awhile with no traveling, and I made sure we’re stocked up on wine for the holidays. Woo!
Every and their mudder was out o’ town on bizness last week. Wwhazz prowled the tarantula-and-near-bear-infested forests outside of Oklahoma City, while I and some co-worker pals trundled out to Mountain View, CA. I subsisted on burritos of every type until sometime on Wednesday and then branched out into the kabob-and-noodle game.
I even kicked it with GMX and watched his friend ride a mechanical bull. I lost $30: $10 on the first ride when I said he wouldn’t last 18 seconds. The operator said he started it slow the first time and that he’d get it going faster the next time around; so I bet $20 on the second ride lasting less than 15 seconds and damned if he didn’t hold on. Shots were taken, and later on GMX tried to cut a piece of pizza in half with a book. He later used said book as a plate as well. Take that, random hotel literature.
ALAS: I cannot come on the UP trip. It simply will not work out with my current work project to be gone for so long this month. Apologies, friends. Next time! Maybe Cal could take my spot?