Monthly Archives: March 2009

Dear Microsoft,

Your software SUCKS. It is terribly inconvenient to disable VPN connections by default through your dumb stupid crap “OneCare” package that overrides any and all other system settings that should normally be configured in your control panel. This is simple design, I don’t need to have switches and levers all over the place. Instead, you are totally obfuscating and constricting the usability of the entire operating system with no regard at all to your users who have shit to take care of, and don’t have the entire day to weasel their way through your dumb pre-loaded crap that no one wanted in the first place.

Totally arrogant, totally unnecessary, and totally stupid.

I just pray the future comes here faster, because Linux (and Google) will kick your software into obsolescence, right where garbage belongs.

No Regards,
Paul Lovine

Heading back to SoCal in a few hours. Haven’t packed.

Had lunch with my ninong earlier. Always something new to learn speaking with old souls that have been around longer than you.

Life comes, times go…

My best man speech is going to bomb later, I can tell. Johnny will keep me company up on the mic, and 22 years of friendship shall try to speak to its own testaments.

I love writing sentimental crap as evidenced by the ramblings on this blog, but it’s a different animal when you’ll need to dish it out to an audience, most of whom you don’t know. Well, no one remembers anything the next day anyway, unless I do something really retarded. Which Johnny and I just might. Mwahaha!

Two days in Manila, and having lots of fun so far. Mostly from animated conversations over a good cold brew of San Miguel. It’s a lot better now that my friends have started to branch out and pursue the paths they’ve chosen to live. It becomes cathartic to both realize and understand the reasons behind their beliefs, the tenets of their faith, the growth of our collective wisdom. And good conversation comes from differing opinions stemming from the same collective input and generalized experience of growing up in a conservative Church influenced third world.

I really enjoy listening to what makes people tick. What it would be like on your ‘island’. I can’t imagine not caring about issues of gay marriage, abortion, legalization of psychoactive substances that are incidentally less dangerous than alcohol, decriminalization of prostitution, torture, tax and spending, healthcare and education. Especially since a quarter of your paycheck (mine, at least) goes back to the state and the services it provides.

I don’t want to have no opinion. It’s easy to gloss over issues when you have no vested interest or are not directly affected by them. But without understanding what’s happening around you, there’s no way to understand anything at all.

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I need to know the world, in order to understand myself. I need to know myself, in order to understand the world.

I left the house with the Vespa this morning, and the gas warning light came on. Based from experience, I can squeeze roughly 30 miles from the onset of the yellow warning light. I usually like getting gas from a specific station by the corner of my house, since putting gas into a 2 gallon tank is a finicky matter – depending on the build of the fuel dispenser, some pumps tend to shutoff the gas too late, resulting in spillage outside of the tank. No bueno! So for the reasons just described, I opt to get gas by my house when I come back home because of its consistency in shutting off at the right moment.

Fast forward to after lunch, when I’m powering down on the 5 superhighway southbound, half a mile from my exit, when the power starts to cut out. Then the power goes out completely. I pull over to the shoulder, and try to start the engine again. Engine turns, but does not start completely. I do this a few more times, hoping that I can squeeze in a little more just enough to reach the freeway exit because standing right next to trucks and SUVs driven by coked up soccer moms pulling at least 70mph is by no means entertaining. AAA says it’ll take 30 minutes for a service call, so I say screw it, and walk the bike 1/2 mile down to the gas station.

So I start noticing that the idiot lights on the console have dimmed, probably indicative of a dying battery. Lo and behold, with a full gas tank, I depress the brake and push the ignition – dead silence. Great, battery is dead.

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Vespa and I during happier days.

Phone call to Vespa Sherman Oaks, and I get some instructions from Drew how to do the kick start mechanism. Basically tells me that it’s really a worst case scenario option. Well, the situation is that I have a flight to catch in a few hours for Manila, which doesn’t give me the luxury of having several hours to charge up the battery. Sounds like worst case for me. So I try the kick start a few times, and figure there’s nothing to lose (except if I bust the transmission case which I heard has happened before). Push a little bit on the lever, and kick down to the floor. I can feel the engine turn over the first time, and the second. Push a bit, and kick.

Third try, is the charm. :) I love the Vespa. I really do.

The cashier was finishing up with a customer as I opened the door of the gas station mini-mart. “Can you turn on the air for me?”, as he gave the lady her change. “I can’t. I don’t have a remote to turn it on.”. What a liar, I thought to myself, and hung around till the lady left so I can pump some air into the soft tires of the ’79 bus. “What about some tokens for the machine?”, but “None” was the reply. Lie. So I look him straight in the eye and tell him “It’s California law that your gas station needs to provide free air to paying customers.”

Anyway, he confirms that I had indeed just pumped some gas on station 4, and hands me two tokens. That’s right, beeyatch! So I smugly walk over to the air/water station, plunk in the change, and the machine whirs happily.

HEY 1979!
Vanessa’s Ass.

I plug the hose into the stem valve… and nothing happens. It’s broken.

Ugh.

One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed the past 5 years, is my planning timeframe. Instead of embarking on spontaneous trips and shenanigans, I find myself booking weekend and international trips several months in advance. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, just a little age showing through the cracks because everyone else in my peer group needs to plan ahead.

Prehistoric Pets
My dinosaur is bigger than yours.

Hell, before you know it, you won’t even have time to plan for anything anymore.