<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:53:00.301-07:00</updated><category term='Reviews'/><category term='eats'/><category term='movie cririques'/><title type='text'>Rants, raves, and movie critiques</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6903096372996798096</id><published>2010-02-09T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T05:38:10.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I said so...</title><content type='html'>My time growing up was spent the way I think everyone should spend their time growing up.  I was more often than not found doing one, or more, of five things: eating, sleeping, playing, reading, or asking questions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine why a kid would really need to do a whole lot much else than those things.  Healthy mind and body, right there.  Eat, but not too much.  Sleep, but not too little.  Play, but do it safely.  Read everything you can get your hands on.  And never stop asking questions; about everything.  This simple formula promotes intelligent, healthy, well rounded, individuals.  Just like we all strive to convince ourselves we are.  Though in our later years, too many of these things go neglected.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At just 25, I eat too much and sleep far too little, in erratic intervals.  I don't play anymore, I work.  Or on frequent occasion, in what may be described as either a desperate attempt to cram as much fun into a short amount of time as possible or an attempt to drown the imbalance of the other four neglected aspects of my childhood in copious amounts of alcoholic beverages, I "party".  I read, quite a bit by most people's standards, but not everything and not enough by mine.  I do however continue to ask questions, though as my questions get more complex and philosophical, I'm more frequently disappointed with the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend once said that children are the most intelligent people on the planet; because they learn at such an alarming rate that their parents are often fraught with grief over their efforts to keep ahead of them and they ask that simple one word question with complete honesty, "why?"  "Why is the sky blue?" "Why did do I have to wear clothes?"  "Why did grandpa have to die?" "Why did the chicken cross the road?"  These questions are also peppered with the other four "W" questions, who, what, when, and where.  But why is often the most important.  The why gives something meaning, gives it a purpose.  "What is that?" "It's a giraffe."  "Why does it have such a long neck?"  That's what everyone wants to know about a giraffe, right?  It also has seven vertebrae in its neck and a black tongue, but why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had a fairly significant role in the upbringing of my two younger brothers and being unwaveringly curious myself, I can understand the annoyance of being asked, "Why…?" dozens of times a day.  Children have the attention span of a gold fish and are psychologically hard wired to seek instant gratification in all pursuits, so they don’t pull any punches in their quest for understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately as we grow up we're discouraged, through various methods, for some reason from asking questions or we're told to go find the information ourselves, which I'm a huge supporter of, but without being taught the methods of research most people get frustrated and just stop looking for the answers.  Or, what I've found to often be the case, people seek to understand the world as they experience it and stop seeking new information.  I'm an American, why would I have any reason at all to learn another language?  Why would I want to know anything about the complicated and violent nature of relationships between countries in the Middle East if I had no expectation of going there?  Those are fair questions I guess.  I already speak my native tongue and, until I joined the military, the goings on in the Middle East were not on my list of interests.  To be clear though, I do not condone this attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with all of this is that it's never been self serving to focus on ones day to day life as a basis for learning.  Without asking questions and actively seeking the answers, life muddles on in stasis.  Things don't get better, technology doesn't advance, and successive generations are no greater than the last.  That is the general idea of being a parent, a teacher, or a mentor, isn't it, to advance the skills and knowledge of those in your charge and enable them to expand their possibilities?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter, "because I said so."  I would like to believe that it was because I asked a question with an answer that my mother thought I was too young to understand.  However, I find it more likely that it's because she didn't know the answer or because she did it out of reflex thinking that would shut me up.  Not because my mother isn't intelligent, far from it, but because either A, it's a question about something that I'm supposed to be doing or should have had done that I wasn't doing or didn't do.  B, it was honestly for my own good, not playing in the alleys of Imperial Beach after dark for example shouldn't be up for debate when you're 12.  Or C, it's a leadership issue.  You can't ask why a lot in leadership scenarios, often there just isn't time.  Can you imagine the danger of stopping the heat of battle to ask your captain why you should be doing something he's ordered you to do?  Or why you're being fired at in the first place.  You're almost certain to have a swift, albeit tragic, resolution to all of your unanswered questions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, "because I said so" is often implied or assumed, neither of which serve a great deal of purpose outside of a combat situation.  Asking why tactfully and at an appropriate time is always a good idea.  It affords you the opportunity to further your understanding on the subject; it provides an opportunity for the person being asked to reflect on the issue, and it allows the issue to be reviewed and improved if required.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst reason for doing anything is, "that's the way it's always been done".  Doing something some way because that's the way it was done when you got there is detrimental.  I'm not saying you should employ a third party agency to come in and evaluate the things you do.  But certainly you could take a moment to think about the reasons you do something when you find yourself doing it.  Ask yourself, "Why do we do this?"  "Can we save time and money doing it differently?"  "Does it even make sense?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When someone asks you why something is done the way it is done or why the sky is blue or whatever, answer the question.  If you don't know the answer, find the answer and let them know when you do.  Or even better still; take them with you to look up the answer.  What better way to teach the importance of continuous learning than taking them along for the ride?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When doing the same monotonous tasks day in and day out at work, ask why you have to do them the way you do.  By doing so you will reinforce the importance of what it is you're doing, you will force yourself to evaluate the methods you use, and you will give yourself the opportunity to think of improvements on the current system.  If you are the person that put those systems in to motion in the first place, be receptive of the opinions from a fresh set of eyes.  Though we would all like to think so, there is no way of knowing if our way of doing things is the absolute best.  Revisit current methods from time to time as well, the way you do things now may work just fine, but that's not to say that there isn't a better way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6903096372996798096?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6903096372996798096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6903096372996798096' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6903096372996798096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6903096372996798096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2010/02/because-i-said-so.html' title='Because I said so...'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4527465135841576296</id><published>2010-02-02T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T15:53:34.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A wise man once said,</title><content type='html'>"To expand your mind is to expand your possibilities."  I don't know where the guy got it from.  I'm pretty sure he got it from somewhere because a quick Google search will bring up the exact phrase all over the place.  But it's pure wisdom none the less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4527465135841576296?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4527465135841576296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4527465135841576296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4527465135841576296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4527465135841576296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2010/02/wise-man-once-said.html' title='A wise man once said,'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-7283036890176958717</id><published>2009-12-28T09:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T11:12:34.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>so tired...</title><content type='html'>i don't know what it is, but lately i just can't seem to sleep when i'm supposed to.  i'll try to sleep before work but that doesn't happen so i end up sleeping after post.  then i stay up until work starts again and half way through the shift i get tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-7283036890176958717?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/7283036890176958717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=7283036890176958717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7283036890176958717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7283036890176958717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-tired.html' title='so tired...'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4561696496464371883</id><published>2009-12-25T18:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T19:24:43.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>This was supposed to be a reading list, but it turned into this instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13th Warrior, The&lt;br /&gt;28 Days later&lt;br /&gt;28 Weeks Later&lt;br /&gt;50 First dates&lt;br /&gt;6th Day, The&lt;br /&gt;Accepted&lt;br /&gt;Adventures of Baron Munchausen, The&lt;br /&gt;Alien Vs. Predator&lt;br /&gt;American History X&lt;br /&gt;American Pie&lt;br /&gt;American Pie 2&lt;br /&gt;American Pie 3 - American Wedding&lt;br /&gt;American Psycho&lt;br /&gt;Annapolis&lt;br /&gt;Artificial Intelligence&lt;br /&gt;Back to the Future&lt;br /&gt;Back to the Future 2&lt;br /&gt;Back to the Future 3&lt;br /&gt;Batman Begins&lt;br /&gt;Be Cool&lt;br /&gt;Beeny &amp; Joon&lt;br /&gt;Better Luck Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Bicentennial Man&lt;br /&gt;Big Fish&lt;br /&gt;Boondocks Saints, The&lt;br /&gt;Bound&lt;br /&gt;Bourne Identity, The&lt;br /&gt;Bourne Supremacy, The&lt;br /&gt;Break-Up, The&lt;br /&gt;Butterfly Effect, The&lt;br /&gt;Carriers&lt;br /&gt;Cinderella Man&lt;br /&gt;Collateral&lt;br /&gt;Cool World&lt;br /&gt;Count of Monte Cristo, The&lt;br /&gt;Crank&lt;br /&gt;Crash&lt;br /&gt;Dane Cook - Vicious Circle&lt;br /&gt;Dark Knight, The&lt;br /&gt;Dawn of the Dead&lt;br /&gt;Day of the Dead&lt;br /&gt;Déjà Vu&lt;br /&gt;Diary of the Dead&lt;br /&gt;Domino&lt;br /&gt;Donnie Darko&lt;br /&gt;Dude, Where's my car?&lt;br /&gt;Empire Records&lt;br /&gt;Employee of the Month&lt;br /&gt;Equilibrium&lt;br /&gt;Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind&lt;br /&gt;Euro Trip&lt;br /&gt;Evil Aliens&lt;br /&gt;Fallen&lt;br /&gt;Ferris Bueller's Day Off&lt;br /&gt;Fifth Element, The&lt;br /&gt;Fight Club&lt;br /&gt;Final Fantasy - Advent Children&lt;br /&gt;G.I. Joe - Rise of the Cobra&lt;br /&gt;Gattaca&lt;br /&gt;Girl Next Door, The&lt;br /&gt;Gladiator&lt;br /&gt;Gone in 60 Seconds&lt;br /&gt;Good Will Hunting&lt;br /&gt;Gremlins&lt;br /&gt;Gremlins 2&lt;br /&gt;Hancock&lt;br /&gt;Hellboy&lt;br /&gt;Hitch&lt;br /&gt;Hook&lt;br /&gt;House&lt;br /&gt;House 2&lt;br /&gt;Hudson Hawk&lt;br /&gt;I Am Legend&lt;br /&gt;I, Robot&lt;br /&gt;Identity&lt;br /&gt;Incredible Hulk, The&lt;br /&gt;Ink&lt;br /&gt;Inside Man&lt;br /&gt;Into the Blue&lt;br /&gt;Iron Man&lt;br /&gt;Italian Job, The&lt;br /&gt;Jumanji&lt;br /&gt;Juno&lt;br /&gt;Jurassic Park&lt;br /&gt;Jurassic Park 2 - The Lost World&lt;br /&gt;Jurassic Park 3&lt;br /&gt;Just Married&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss Bang Bang&lt;br /&gt;Knockaround Guys&lt;br /&gt;Land of the Dead&lt;br /&gt;Last Samurai, The&lt;br /&gt;League of Extraordinary Gentlemen&lt;br /&gt;Leon, The Professional&lt;br /&gt;Lolita&lt;br /&gt;Lord of War&lt;br /&gt;Lucky Number Sleven&lt;br /&gt;Machinist, The&lt;br /&gt;Mask of Zorro, The&lt;br /&gt;Matrix, The (10 Disk Set)&lt;br /&gt;Mission: Impossible&lt;br /&gt;Mission: Impossible 2&lt;br /&gt;Mission: Impossible 3&lt;br /&gt;Mothman Prophecies, The&lt;br /&gt;Mr. &amp; Mrs. Smith&lt;br /&gt;Mummy Returns, The&lt;br /&gt;Mummy, The&lt;br /&gt;Mystery, Alaska&lt;br /&gt;Neverending Story 2, The&lt;br /&gt;Neverending Story, The&lt;br /&gt;Night of the Living Dead&lt;br /&gt;Not Another Teen Movie&lt;br /&gt;Ocean's Eleven&lt;br /&gt;Ocean's Twelve&lt;br /&gt;Office Space&lt;br /&gt;Phantom of the Opera, The&lt;br /&gt;Point Break&lt;br /&gt;Poltergeist&lt;br /&gt;Poolhall Junkies&lt;br /&gt;Protector, The&lt;br /&gt;Real Genius&lt;br /&gt;Reservoir Dogs&lt;br /&gt;Resident Evil&lt;br /&gt;Resident Evil: Apocalypse&lt;br /&gt;Resident Evil: Extinction&lt;br /&gt;Riddick Trilogy&lt;br /&gt;Robots&lt;br /&gt;Rock Star&lt;br /&gt;Roll Bounce&lt;br /&gt;Rounders&lt;br /&gt;S.W.A.T.&lt;br /&gt;Sahara&lt;br /&gt;Saw&lt;br /&gt;Saw 2&lt;br /&gt;Saw 3&lt;br /&gt;Saw 4&lt;br /&gt;Saw 5&lt;br /&gt;Shawshank Redemption, The&lt;br /&gt;Short Circuit&lt;br /&gt;Short Circuit 2&lt;br /&gt;Shrek&lt;br /&gt;Sin City&lt;br /&gt;Sixth Sense, The&lt;br /&gt;Sling Blade&lt;br /&gt;Smokin Aces&lt;br /&gt;Snatch&lt;br /&gt;Species&lt;br /&gt;Species 2&lt;br /&gt;Star Trek&lt;br /&gt;Stickmen&lt;br /&gt;Surrogates&lt;br /&gt;Suicide Kings&lt;br /&gt;Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles&lt;br /&gt;Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2&lt;br /&gt;Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3&lt;br /&gt;Terminal, The&lt;br /&gt;Thaw&lt;br /&gt;The Beach&lt;br /&gt;The Blind Side&lt;br /&gt;The Gaurdian&lt;br /&gt;The Hunted&lt;br /&gt;They Live&lt;br /&gt;Time Bandits&lt;br /&gt;Titan A.E.&lt;br /&gt;Tomb Raider&lt;br /&gt;Tomb Raider - The Cradle of Life&lt;br /&gt;Top Gun&lt;br /&gt;Transformers&lt;br /&gt;Transformers - Rise of the Fallen&lt;br /&gt;Underworld&lt;br /&gt;Underworld - Evolution&lt;br /&gt;Unleashed&lt;br /&gt;Up&lt;br /&gt;Waiting&lt;br /&gt;Wall E&lt;br /&gt;War&lt;br /&gt;Wedding Crashers&lt;br /&gt;What Dreams May Come&lt;br /&gt;Wild Things&lt;br /&gt;Wolf&lt;br /&gt;Zombieland&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4561696496464371883?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4561696496464371883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4561696496464371883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4561696496464371883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4561696496464371883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/12/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-8990649510863437187</id><published>2009-12-25T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:51:26.522-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that I hate</title><content type='html'>This is something that I've been contemplating writing for a little while now.  I know that everyone has things that they just can't fucking stand no matter how many times they are forced to deal with them.  I'm no exception.  In fact, being as proficient with the English language that I am, saying that I actually "hate" something should be considered to actually have some force behind it.  Though I do often choose to use other words like, loathe, disdain, and abhorred.   But then again when confronted with some of these things I revert to simply saying, "Fuck", a lot and cursing the existence of said object of my "affection".  I'm not going to get real deep into these, it's just going to be quick, down, and dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that I Hate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Stupid People - I'm not talking your run of the mill below average IQ individual, I'm talking about repeat offenders.  People that continually say the most inane fucking retarded shit.  People that mindlessly regurgitate rumors and hearsay as though it were gospel.  People that teach their kids to be fucking morons because they don't want to be outdone by their offspring.  The kind of people that couldn't point out their own fucking home town on a map or can't tell you how many stars are on the American flag.  Stupid, mindless, useless, wastes of flesh and perfectly good oxygen.  The gene pool needs a little more bleach, these fucking assholes are breathing my air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Pooping - This one is different, because try as I might, I just can't get around it.  I've always been a very clean person.  I shower every day.  I take care of my teeth.  Even when I was a baby, I've been told that I would wail like rape victim if I made a mess in my diaper.  While I don't scream about it anymore, I still just don't like the whole filthy act of it.  I think it's proof that there is no God.  If we were created in his image, don't you think he'd figure some other way to get rid of our waste?  He could at least make it smell like roses or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Doing things a certain way simply because that's the way it's always been done - If that's not the most fucked up retarded reason to do something, I don't know what is.  Fucking evolve, people.  Shake things up a little, improve things.  And I'm not talking about coming up with some high speed solution to a problem that isn't there, I'm talking about shit like views on homosexuality or everyone in the Middle East hating everyone else in the Middle East.  What the fuck is up with that shit?  Gay people have been around for fucking, well as long as people in the Middle East have been trying to kill each other, probably longer.  Specifically, I apply this to the Marine Corps.  We've got a lot of fucked up little rules put in place by someone 15 years ago because one asshole got in trouble and now the rest of the Corps has to pay for it.  People need to get educated and re-evaluate the status quo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The government raping the education system - We've gotten ourselves into a sad state.  First it was language programs, then it was music programs, then it was physical education programs.  Where will we stop?  We've now got a system that tests our youths knowledge on Math and Reading, that's it.  Where the fuck did Science, Art, Music, Philosophy, Economics, and Government go?  Sure, we have those classes, and you have to "pass" them to graduate high school, but do they matter?  NO!  The No Child Left Behind act was the icing on the cake.  What happened to getting held back a year.  We're so apt to let gifted students skip grades, but why not hold some back.  Why not pay teachers enough money so that people actually want to become teachers.  We spend billions of dollars on shit we don't need, why not redirect some of that money to things we do need, like better education.  Who is going to solve the problems we're making now when we're producing citizens that can't fucking read?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-8990649510863437187?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/8990649510863437187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=8990649510863437187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8990649510863437187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8990649510863437187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/12/things-that-i-hate.html' title='Things that I hate'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-5511777273920592524</id><published>2009-10-19T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T10:12:49.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drowsey rantings from the back seat.</title><content type='html'>On my way to Turkey for a base run.  I’m really glad my battery is lasting for the time being.  It’s a six hour drive up there.  I can’t wait to get a cheese burger.  I know it’s only been a month and a half since I waved farewell to my beloved homeland, but nothing makes you miss home more than knowing you’re eight thousand miles away from the nearest In N Out.  I wonder how well a Double Double keeps…  *stares thoughtfully into the distance*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To pack for my journey I decided to use my brand spanking new Swiss Army backpack which boasts sufficient space for my 17” behemoth of a laptop, I got hustled by Amazon.com, again, though not entirely an impulse purchase, as I’ve been in the market for just such a satchel for some time now.  Much to my surprise, the dedicated compartment for my electronic companion is clearly only large enough for a 15” computer.  I can however squeeze it in, though just not where it’s intended to go.  I’m torn between leaving it the way it is and trying to send it back for the right model.  I did purchase the bag specifically for its 17” design, but I do plan on one day getting a smaller laptop.  We’ll see how this trip goes.  If I can live with it the way it is, I’ll just leave it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware the wrath of a disgruntled former lover.  Nothing you can say will be enough.  Nothing you could possibly do, short of offering barred jugular for evisceration, could serve to satiate the blood lust.  There isn’t any way you could ever understand.  There isn’t an ice cubes chance in hell that you could even fathom the pain that you’ve inflicted with your cavalier approach to the relationship.  Never mind the facts.  Never mind that you gladly went out of your way to make them happy.  Never mind that you think she has an amazing body.  Please forget that the sex was great and not just about the physical connection.  And oh by the way, sir, whilst you are forgetting, purge from your mind that you ever considered a future with such a far superior individual.  You are not worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m having a pretty good time out here in Damascus.  It really isn’t anything that I thought it would be.  I was expecting great expanses of nothing but sand.  Not that Syria is in short supply, but there is far more vegetation than I thought there would be and it’s actually quite mountainous.  I especially like the last part.  After living in Riga, which I’m convinced is one of the flattest places on Earth, I’d really begun to miss the jagged landscape silhouetted in the morning sun.  The city proper is chaotically impressive.  I could do without much of the traffic, but I don’t drive, so It’s not one my main concerns.  There are fountains everywhere.  It seems that they are a display of power.  As if they are defying the desert.  I don’t know how big a feat it is exactly, but they too are impressive.  The old city is everything I expected it to be.  It’s packed full of little shops.  Some of which I could literally touch the back wall of by just leaning in from the outside and reaching over.  The effect is actually quite deceptive.  You’ll walk past a series of miniature shops and speckled here and there are decent sized walk-in stores.  Then you’ll go a bit further and an ornately inlaid set of double doors will open to a hidden courtyard restaurant that is kept secret by these sell anything closet stores.   Contrary to my preconceptions, they have most modern services, though the internet sucks, you just need to know where to go.  And it’s delightfully cheap.  You can go out three nights in a row on 20 bucks.  It’s not short on its oddities though.  Some of the customs and norms still throw me off, but being away from home for 5 years bouncing from country to country gets you used to such things.  I have to say that the best part is the diversity.  There are lots of students and ex-pats from all over the world and the Syrian people are very welcoming.  I don’t miss California any less, but my stay here is turning out to be more comfortable than I had expected.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-5511777273920592524?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/5511777273920592524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=5511777273920592524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5511777273920592524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5511777273920592524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/10/drowsey-rantings-from-back-seat.html' title='Drowsey rantings from the back seat.'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2469317126377496505</id><published>2009-10-19T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T10:08:11.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yahoo! sucks</title><content type='html'>Damn it YAHOO! What the hell are you thinking? Here again you’ve taken a simple service and perverted it. All I want if my fucking email. I don’t want you to track my search history and suggest custom advertisements. I don’t want you to give me the weather for every location that I’ve logged in from in the last 12 months. I don’t want an up to the micro-second status report on the people in my address book that I haven’t talked to since I joined the Marines. Why can’t you leave well enough alone? About 6 months ago, Yahoo changed the interface of it’s email portal yet again. Adding dozens of new features that nobody uses and rearranging everything. I’ve gotten used to it though. I’ve been using the same email address for going on 11 years. Like clockwork, as soon as I figure out the new spread, they go and change it up. This latest rendition though has got to be the worst. It’s almost gotten as annoying as those fucking Facebook quizzes. The new and improved spam blocker still lets through the porn, the penis enlargement ads, and all the Nigerian scams that it used to. The picture previewer is still ass achingly slow, and the size of the emails you can send hasn’t gotten any larger. Sure you now have enough room to keep all the lolcats and propaganda, but you still have to send the files one at a time. I’m out! Gmail, here I come. If you need to reach me, shoot your traffic over to aaronpleas@gmail.com. Better spam protection, virus software, and better yet, it’s brand new and I won’t plaguing everyone with whatever zombie emails I may be sending out. The interface is better, simpler really.  If you want to write a novel, get some publishing software. If you want to keep up with your social networking, get on Facebook. If you want to send an email and just an email, Yahoo is no longer the answer. Besides, sooner or later, Google will own stock on everyone’s soul anyway so you may as well make it as smooth a transition as possible. Jokes aside, it’s a better service. You can tell that they took the complaints and mistakes and really focused on making a superior base as an email service provider. Rejoice! Email is simple again. Though I must say in advance, if you start sending me forwarded emails, you will receive some serious hate mail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2469317126377496505?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2469317126377496505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2469317126377496505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2469317126377496505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2469317126377496505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/10/yahoo-sucks.html' title='Yahoo! sucks'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2412519112921008725</id><published>2009-10-04T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T12:36:21.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Monster!</title><content type='html'>I figure a good way to dust off the old blog would be to introduce the newest member of the collection of electronic devices that one could easily mistake for a family member if you only heard of how excited I get when I talk about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone, please meet (no, I don't seriously name my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gadgets&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16811112141"&gt;Lian Li PC-A70 Tower&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16813188051"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;EVGA&lt;/span&gt; Micro &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ATX&lt;/span&gt; Motherboard&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16814102848"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Saphire&lt;/span&gt; Vapor X&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16817139007"&gt;Corsair 1000W Power Supply&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16819115202"&gt;Intel i7 2.66GHz CPU&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16820139030"&gt;Kingston 64&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Gb&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;SSD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16822148337"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Seagate&lt;/span&gt; 7200 rpm 1.5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Gb&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;HD&lt;/span&gt; (x2)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16820227365"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;OCZ&lt;/span&gt; 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Gb&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ddr&lt;/span&gt;2 1600 (x6)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newegg.com/Product/Product.aspx?Item=N82E16827136162"&gt;LG &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Blu&lt;/span&gt;-ray &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;RW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here she is, I demand that anything that takes up this much time/money in my life be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;referred&lt;/span&gt; to as female.  The build is going smoothly enough seeing as I've never done one.  I'm going to be running Windows 7 straight off of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;SSD&lt;/span&gt;.  I literally salivate over how fast this thing should load up.  I also purchased a fan/heat sink combo to replace the stock one that came with the CPU.  However, for the life of me I couldn't figure out how to put the damn thing on.  I spent about 30 minutes mounting the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;AMD&lt;/span&gt; bracket to the heat sink.  The holes for the screws were just ever so slightly smaller than the screws themselves.  I eventually, through a  great deal of effort and some minor perspiration, managed to attach one to the other only to find that there wasn't any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;conceivable&lt;/span&gt; way to mount the fan to the processor.  Hopefully I can get the AMD bracket off.  Because, as you may have noticed, I don't have a AMD processor/motherboard.  *Epic Facepalm*  I guess I shouldn't just tear into my new toys and start putting them together next time.  In any case, I bought all these things to do it myself to learn and to be able to upgrade parts later, so I'm fine with what I'm working with.  I'm taking pictures throughout the build so maybe I'll have those up on here sooner or later.  I'm off tomorrow and am already excited to get back to putting it together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Update*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After eight hours of anticipation I finally got off work and came back home to take another crack at finishing my build.  After realizing that I had put the wrong mounting bracket on the heat sink, I decided to give that another try.  I got the AMD one off and managed to put the correct one on without too much hassle.  But it's on there now, I don't think it's going anywhere for a while.  I had a couple of minor issues along the way.  I still can't figure out how to hook up my 3-pin power indicator to the 2-pin spot for it, I don't seem to have enough SATA cables for all three of my hard drives, I don't have a corded mouse to use when I start up Windows, my motherboard manual says I have 6 fan ports and I clearly have only 4, and there is the fact that I can't turn it on...  I don't know what the issue is.  I have power according to this little blue light next to the 24-pin plug in and the 8-pin is also in.  I also have reason to believe that there is power because the fans turn over for about a rotation before stopping.  But other than that, there is no indication that the thing is getting juice or doing what it's supposed to be doing.  I can't get to the BIOS, which I was kinda excited about because I've never messed with it, and my monitor (AWESOME) isn't getting a signal from the computer of any kind.  I've got out resident techno geek coming over some time this week to have a crack at it, hopefully he can shed some light on the issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2412519112921008725?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2412519112921008725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2412519112921008725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2412519112921008725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2412519112921008725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-monster.html' title='My Monster!'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6017475429451430791</id><published>2009-07-28T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T03:27:10.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Racism</title><content type='html'>As you may or may not have known, on the 16th of July a police officer, Sgt James Crowley,  in Cambridge responded to a 911 call which indicated a possible break in at the residence of Henry Gates a Harvard Professor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gates, "a top African-American scholar", and a friend were returning home from a trip to China.  During the trip Gates lost the key to his residence and upon returning decided to break into his own house.  Now I don't know that shoving my shoulder into the front door and destroying the frame would have been the way I would do it, but last I checked, it's perfectly legal to break your own stuff.  As long as you aren't hurting anyone else in the process, you're good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A concerned neighbor, Lucia Whalen, who I would love to have as my neighbor on account of her concern for the general safety of the neighborhood as a whole, called 911 when she observed the supposed break in "at a distance".  She did mention that one of the individuals "looked Hispanic" but also that she "wasn't really sure". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sgt Crowley responded to the call in uniform.  When he arrived at the residence he called into the house asking for the individual he could see through the front door window to come out on to the porch.  Gates, as he later learned, replied that he would not comply and demanded identification, which Crowley freely gave.  Upon learning that there was an officer present Gates brought up the fact that he was "a Black man living in America" and that this was all a race issue.  Sgt Crowley asked Gates to join him outside because he couldn't transmit back to his office due to the closed space and Gates' yelling.  To this Gates replied, "ya, I'll speak to your mama outside".  Gates also indicated on several occations that he was "not the type of person you mess" with and that Officer Crowley didn't, "know who he was"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was some more back and forth between the officer and Gates but due to the excessive loud arguing and disturbance, Gates was arrested for "Disorderly Conduct".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to leave it there, I really would.  But before I go on, it should be known that all Gates had to do was prove , professionally and with respect for a uniformed officer, that he was rightfully in the house and that would have been the end of it.  Certainly one would have appreciated such a speedy response if someone had actually been breaking into your home, why not take it in the same fashion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As easy as it would have been to leave the whole thing alone as a, shall we say agrevated misunderstanding, it turns out that Gates is a personal friend of our recently elected fearless leader.  I don't know about you, but as an older brother, when my little brother calls me up and asks me to beat up the school bully, I'm going to tell him to take care of it on his own.  I'm not using the term "big brother" lightly here either.  What kind of society are we living in when you can make a personal call to The President of the United States and ask him to demand an appology from an officer that was rightly doing his job.  And oh, by the way, Sgt Crowley has been called upon as a guest speaker several times to teach classes on racial tollerance and embracing the diverse culture in Cambridge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this has been all over the news and Jay Leno is going to be telling jokes about it until the next guy takes office, but I've just got to say that it's this "reverse racism" that is keeping racism alive today.  I've heard a lot of negitive feedback on the term reverse racism.  Somehow people are bringing up old issues from a past that we only know about today through history books as new issues every single day.  I'm not saying that racism doesn't exist.  Sadly, it does.  But why?  When was the last time a white man actually owned a black man?  When was the last Irish migration?  The last Japanese internment camps closed 60 years ago.  The most recently in the spotlight are those from the Middle East on account of some a relitive few individuals who are haild by their own people as being extremeists that pervert the teachings they say they are upholding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key to ridding the world from racism is education.  Oh wait, Gates is "a top African-American scholar"...  This guy is responsible for the teaching and shaping of the minds of our future leaders and if you ask him to step outside to talk he replies, "I'll speak with your mama outside"  This is what I'm talking about, not just at the lower levels of our society but at all levels.  We're all Americans, people.  I don't tell anyone that I'm an Irish-American.  I'm not Irish.  Sure I'm proud of where my ancestors came from but I'm more proud of where I came from.  If Ireland gets in a war, the only reason I'll ever be there is if America sends me to back them up.  If Angola or Zimbabwe or The Congo gets in a war do you think our "African-American" populace is going to catch a flight down there and sign up to fight the bad guys?  I don't think so.  And just to make drive the point, several countries in Africa are in some sort of cival war...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now Officer Crowley, Henery Gates, and our very own President Obama are going to meet at the White House to discuss the events and "have a couple of beers".  This is where we're at folks.  After your big brother beats up your enemy, be sure to invite him back to your place for some beers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6017475429451430791?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6017475429451430791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6017475429451430791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6017475429451430791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6017475429451430791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/07/racism.html' title='Racism'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2061815646087706659</id><published>2009-07-27T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T02:27:29.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I suppose it's time to make what has become my monthly, ish, update. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's going on, you might ask?  Well for those playing at home we're running on 4 months that I've been waiting for my visa.  I was supposed to be out of Riga on the tails of May.  But some Syriain dude has gotten it in his mind that I'm better suited to stick it out in good 'ol Latvia for a while longer.  Not a bad place to be stuck, really.  The warm weather is great, the women are beautiful, and I'm putting in some serious time on my bike.  The only part that sucks is the not knowing what's going to happen to me, or where I'm going.  I'm slated to go to Syria, but if that takes too much longer, I'm getting pulled from that and sent somewhere else.  If I go somewhere else, it could be another two months of not knowing where to or when it is that I'll be going.  Now don't get me wrong, I love being spontainious and the excitement of knowing I'll be in some random part of the world in three months is great, but it's hard to make plans, ya know?  I can't plan on staying here.  I can't make plans for back home.  I'm just trying to enjoy the time that I have left.  So far, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of that. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just wrapped up another inspection.  I rocked the house, again.  *happy dance*  Nothing like getting recognized for a job well done.  Making up for 5 months of slacking off in two weeks is just as hard as it sounds.  haha.  But seriously, I can't believe how jacked up some of this stuff is.  And at the highest levels of our command.  It's rediculous.  I've got tons of shit I don't need and not enough of the gear that I do need.  Whatever, I'm going to get it all straightened out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still don't have my stuff.  It's been a long time but if you remember my last post, I talked about the Latvian packing ninjas that came and lovingly wrapped my earthly possesions with paper and sent it to a warehouse pending orders to Syria.  I gotta say that living on two weeks worth of clothes is one of those thing that nobody likes to do.  I've gotten to the point where I think I'm just going to go buy some new clothes.  Shoes for sure though, the ones I bought at payless May 08 are falling apart.  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it for now kiddies, be sure to check back in next month for the what I hope will be the end all be all answer to the unanserable question, "where is Aaron's visa?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2061815646087706659?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2061815646087706659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2061815646087706659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2061815646087706659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2061815646087706659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-suppose-its-time-to-make-what-has.html' title=''/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-7192286677214788568</id><published>2009-06-04T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T02:38:55.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pack Out (AKA TMO)</title><content type='html'>Before you ask, I'm not on the way out the door yet.  I just don't want to have anyone else have to oversee the boxing up of my things.  Partly because that's just one more thing that someone would have to do on their day off that they don't want to do and partly because I have a specific way that I like to pack my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never realize how much stuff you've amassed until you start putting it into boxes.  Before you know it you've filled all the boxes that you moved in with and there is still stuff laying about.  That's exactly what happened this time. I really don't think that there are a whole lot of things that I've purchased since I've been here.  But whatever those things were, they seem to take up a lot of space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movers came yesterday to pack up my things.  I didn't know how exactly the whole thing was supposed to work, so I had already packed everything myself.  It all came out to 12 or so managible boxes, neatly stacked and ready for transport.  They showed up with their own, much larger boxes, and all the other packing materials they would need to pretty much pack my room from scratch.  I'm still glad that I did the initial packing though or I would have been here all day watching them tenderly wrap my things in paper.  So in go my small, managable boxes into their larger boxes.  My boxes of clothes were unpacked and paper wrapped and then stuffed unbetween the boxes as padding.  They incountered a problem with my computer and monitor.  The boxes weren't big enough on their own to hold the computer box and the monitor, so they made a bigger box.  They taped up the sides of the first box and then slid another box down on top of it.  Genious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up having them pack up more of my stuff that I wasn't sure what to do with.  Now my room is as barren as it was when I got here.  Just two weeks of clothes and some uniforms.  And my laptop of course.  I'm still waiting on that visa though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-7192286677214788568?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/7192286677214788568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=7192286677214788568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7192286677214788568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7192286677214788568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/06/pack-out-aka-tmo.html' title='Pack Out (AKA TMO)'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2186897776916110020</id><published>2009-05-26T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T00:05:00.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook Quizes</title><content type='html'>Ah, the Facebook quiz, not to be out-classed but the arguably more evil MySpace quiz.  But I'm going to stick with Facebook for this one.  A friend of mine recently told me that he avoids those things like the plague; for three reasons.  1. they are a life sucking brain cell dump. 2. nobody cares.  3. Skynet.  This is why I stuck with Facebook.  Myspace has made it increasingly easy to forward the latest "tell me everything about you" quiz to the internet masses, but Facebook has taken it a step further with the application quizes.  Now you don't have to bother with copying and pasting, all you have to do is allow the application to access any and all personal information you've chosen to disclose on your profile and away you go.  And you never do just one.  You have to do 4 at least.  What type of gun are you?  What musical starlett are you?  How are you going to die?  What type of woman do you like?  Now you just took four bullshit quizes that, instead of getting lost in the bulletin eather like on MySpace, are being archived somewhere.  Enter Skynet.  All these seemingly innocent quizes could be getting compiled to form a profile on everyone that is taking them.  Not to mention the fact that you have to allow them to access your profile info, to include your friends list.  After you're done taking the quiz it gives you the option to forward it to either friends you choose or you can have the computer randomly choose for you.  There is also a "skip to results" option that only recently was introduced because of complaints of spamming.  If you're cool about it, if you can be cool when you're taking a FB quiz, you just skip to the results.  This is where they trick you, your results get posted on your friends pages anyway!  Sneaky bastards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also a million quizes out there made by FB users like yourself about yourself!  Check that out.  Now you can volunteer even more information and have other people take it and paste it up all over their friends pages whether or not you even know them.  How cool is that?  Remember the game, 6 Degrees from Kevin Bacon?  A recent study of the popular Instant Messaging service, MSN, found that all of the users on the service were actually less than 6 "degrees" from each other.  Apply that concept to FB.  Within a couple of jumps, everyone knows everyone.  And everyone knows your shit.  But how is that different than any of the other sites that we've been using for all this time.  Now it's being archived and organized into a profile.  I'm sure that when machines do start taking over the world, knowing what toppings I like on my pizza and what kind of kinky little bastard I may be are going to be a deciding factors in the outcome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night Skynet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2186897776916110020?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2186897776916110020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2186897776916110020' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2186897776916110020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2186897776916110020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/facebook-quizes.html' title='Facebook Quizes'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6403927554047040056</id><published>2009-05-15T02:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T03:01:50.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Epic Mash Ups for 1000, Alex.</title><content type='html'>I don't know how I found this vid.  I got on YouTube in the first place to check out the Animiniacs do the countries of the world bit.  Somewhere after that I wound up watching a five year old playing DDR (he was really good).  Anyway, then I found &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70r-Ca8wcVg&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this little gem&lt;/a&gt;.  It's good enough to watch twice.  I lol'd&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6403927554047040056?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6403927554047040056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6403927554047040056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6403927554047040056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6403927554047040056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/epic-mash-ups-for-1000-alex.html' title='Epic Mash Ups for 1000, Alex.'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-3051113616001933450</id><published>2009-05-15T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T00:18:33.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stand by to stand by</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been waiting for something to happen and due to circumstances beyond your control it just wont fucking happen? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The details of this particular scenario aren't important.  What is driving me nuts is that I've been waiting for this to go down for over two weeks and I've just been informed that even though it was scheduled, reschedualed I should say, for today, IT'S JUST BEEN POSTPONED AGAIN!!!  So now I'm waiting until Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to get on with it.  I feel like I've been sentanced to walk the plank but every time I'm about to take the last step, it gets longer; like when you reach the top of the stairs and you think there is another step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rah...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-3051113616001933450?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/3051113616001933450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=3051113616001933450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/3051113616001933450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/3051113616001933450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/stand-by-to-stand-by.html' title='stand by to stand by'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-8663874597830986494</id><published>2009-05-14T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T02:46:07.665-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Angels and Demons</title><content type='html'>I went and saw the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sequel&lt;/span&gt;" to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;controversial&lt;/span&gt; De &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Vinci&lt;/span&gt; Code last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Hanks stars again as the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;symbolist&lt;/span&gt; that knows what all those secret lemon juice messages that really old Roman dudes left behind mean and that there is a secret &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Illuminati&lt;/span&gt; path through Rome that points the way to their secret "church" where they would gather to plot the scientifically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;diabolical&lt;/span&gt; demise of the Catholic church.  But it wasn't a true &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sequel&lt;/span&gt;, at least not in the movie.  They are loosely tied together by a very brief conversation within the first ten minutes and the fact that one of the characters is the same.  Maybe this isn't the case in the books, but I haven't read those yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being that the movie was supposed to portray a climactic chapter in a centuries old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;controversy&lt;/span&gt; (which came first the chicken of the egg), I felt that it lacked the punch of it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;predecessor&lt;/span&gt;.  It didn't really have the same edgy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;suspense&lt;/span&gt; or thought provoking power.  The first few scenes escalate the tension to a certain level and it just stays there until the end of the move which, I thought very amusingly, ended with a "big bang"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it wasn't a bad movie at all.  If you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; been to Rome, it's a nice little tour and not a complete waste of a couple hours.  Especially if you are as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;obsessive&lt;/span&gt; compulsive about seeing all the movies in a series if you've seen any of them at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-8663874597830986494?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/8663874597830986494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=8663874597830986494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8663874597830986494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8663874597830986494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/angels-and-demons.html' title='Angels and Demons'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-506007450495210001</id><published>2009-05-12T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T00:52:18.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Previews, Pants, Megan Fox, Inline Skates</title><content type='html'>Previews&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doesn't happen ever time I go but have you ever gone to the movies and forgotten what you came to see while you are watching the previews?  I know that's probably a dead give away that my sudoku puzzles aren't working as well as they should, but I like it.  It's like a little surprise.  Sitting there thinking about how awesome some movie is going to be I'll start talking it over with the guy next to me and forget all together what I'm there to see in the first place.  And then the title screen comes up and I'm like, "awesome, I've been wanting to see this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lady that works here at the embassy wears the same pants just about every day.  The worst part, aside the fact that they have got to be filthy, is that they are just about the ugliest pants I've ever seen.  They have this strange kinda snake print on them, but more like the skin of a snake that was eaten and regurgitated by another snake and has been left to rot in the elements for a week.  Every time I see her, I want to give her 20 bucks and tell her to go get new pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kontraband.com/videos/17455/Foxy-Megan-Fox/#show"&gt;Megan Fox&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WANT WANT WANT!!!  What's better than a TOTAL BABE with tattoos drinking a beer and grilling up some chicken poolside in a swim suit?  The correct answer is ABSOLUTLY NOTHING.  I could watch her lay around all sleep like that for weeks at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inline Skates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently cleaned my bearings.  *grins*.   I was so excited to get my skates back the other day that I didn't pay any attention to the fact that my bearing were filthy.  I finally got a chance to get out on some decent paths last week and they started squeeking.  There isn't anything more depressing than that sound, it's like they are crying *tear*.  The potential top speed on a pair of skates with dirty bearings is so much slower than what I'm used to and you have to work WAY harder to keep up a good rythm.  But now they are all better, thanks to a little TLC and a few drops of CLP.  ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I get back home and get a cell phone I can tweet this stuff.  Micro blog anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-506007450495210001?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/506007450495210001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=506007450495210001' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/506007450495210001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/506007450495210001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/previews-pants-megan-fox-inline-skates.html' title='Previews, Pants, Megan Fox, Inline Skates'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4561143548927548446</id><published>2009-05-09T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T06:23:13.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek</title><content type='html'>OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!  AWESOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that I got to see this in the theaters.  There truly isn't any other way that could possible do it justice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie was epic.  The graphics were off the hook, the acting was great, and the way the characters came together in the end to form the team we all know and love was perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not a Trekie, I probably didn't even spell that right.  How could I be?  I'm too young/"normal" and Deep Space 9 didn't really command the same following as the first two series.  But this movie was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing was believable; the fight scenes, the action, the inherently awkward relationship between a human and a vulcan.  So many movies these days are so focused on blowing their wad on the graphics that they forget the story.  Or that make-up artists are still usefull.  Thank you for makeing the make up more believable.  I'm so tired of characters getting in fights where they are literly covered in their own blood and in the next scene they are fine.  I know that you can't very well have the star of the show walking around with a shiner with a steak on it for half of the movie, but a bit of a black eye isn't going to kill you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that taken into consideration, this is really the Star Trek movie for everyone.  Even if you don't know anything at all about the shows it's still a really good movie.  That's probably the best part.  JJ Abrams did an excelent job of not making this another movie for the loyal followers.  If you don't know anything about what's going on, it's still a good flick.  And more credit to the director still for leaving things the way they were left off.  I love it in a movie when there is a real ending but the end is just the begining.  When there are enough loose ends to make a sequal but not so many that you're left with an aching sensation in your bathing suit area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO SEE THIS MOVIE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4561143548927548446?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4561143548927548446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4561143548927548446' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4561143548927548446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4561143548927548446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/star-trek.html' title='Star Trek'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4153134657676085952</id><published>2009-05-06T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T02:07:40.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss California...</title><content type='html'>What a "dumb bitch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice the quotes. I didn't say it, celebrity blogger Perez Hilton did. But this girl is doing laps in a pool of bullshit that I despise about the known world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets start with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pageants&lt;/span&gt;. What a load of fucking crap! Miss California my ass! I didn't vote for her. Where was my ballot or the broadcast debates? You're telling me that a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;panel&lt;/span&gt; of elitist fashion &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nazis&lt;/span&gt; are deciding who is going to represent as the gold standard in beauty and sophistication for the state of California? Screw that noise. I love how they get asked meaningful questions. What happened to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;standard&lt;/span&gt; "world peace" answer? You know, the whole smile, nod, stay pretty, say "world peace" and then get the fuck back in line whilst trying to not slip in the puddle of carrot sticks you puked up from breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stance on "opposite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;marriage&lt;/span&gt;". Where do I even start with this one? The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blatant&lt;/span&gt; disrespect she's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;displayed&lt;/span&gt; for other people's opinions on stage in front of millions of people, or the fact that she's opposing it at all? Saying, "with all due respect" is a slap in the fucking face to anyone it's directed towards. You're from California, damn it! You and all you "Vote Yes on 8" fuckers need to chill the fuck out. They all swear like their lives are going to change. A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;marriage&lt;/span&gt; is between two people, unless you're Mormon. If it's between two dudes, it's not going to cheapen the bond between all those breeder couples. Yea, I said, "breeder". I figure while people are throwing around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;derogatory&lt;/span&gt; terms, I may as well toss in some of my own. Last time I checked, "as long as lesbians can't file a joint tax return" didn't follow, "until death do you part". It's not like you're going to stop anything. Dudes have been rear ending other dudes for a long long time. And if I have anything to say about it, girls are going to get to keep on doing what they do too. Not just because it's hot* but because it's the way it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last small note on her "integrity as a woman". She's currently under &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;investigation&lt;/span&gt; for not disclosing topless pictures she took as part of her modeling portfolio when she was 17. She made it all the way to this stage in the competition and now they are just coming out. I feel the same way about this as I do about Bill Clinton &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;not telling the truth&lt;/span&gt; about getting down, though I wouldn't want to tell anyone about it either. I don't care that you did it, I care that you lied. Now I'm not the patron saint of integrity by any means, but when you're up on stage defending yourself against the tabloids saying that you are, well that's a horse of a different color. I saw the photo in question, not that big a deal, seriously. Besides, what kind of fucked up competition aims to narrow down thousands of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;contestants&lt;/span&gt; to the sexual equivalent a "Supreme Being" and prohibit nudity? I say it should be a requirement. If this woman is going to represent California I want to be able to draw her tits from memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Disclaimer - unless the women look like Rosie O'Donnell&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4153134657676085952?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4153134657676085952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4153134657676085952' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4153134657676085952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4153134657676085952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/05/miss-california.html' title='Miss California...'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-8535549938733734770</id><published>2009-03-31T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:00:26.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a geek</title><content type='html'>So I'm trolling the internet right...  I started out with my daily checklist: MySpace, Facebook, Kontraband, and the more recent CNN.com.  Not really much going on with the first two, but on Kontraband, I found this sweet &lt;a href="http://www.kontraband.com/videos/16801/Los-Colorados-Hot-n-Cold/#show"&gt;Kate Perry cover&lt;/a&gt;.  I almost fell off my stool laughing.  The best part is that they are so serious and the part where the dude forgets the words.  lol.  My insatiable thirst for cyber silliness temporally satisfied, I went to CNN.com to check out what's going on with the &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2009/TECH/04/01/tech.viruses/index.html"&gt;April Fools virus&lt;/a&gt;.  Which, BTW, I only found out about this morning!  WTF internet?  We've been friends for like, 15 years and you still keep secrets from me!  I would think that at this point in our relationship, you would be more comfortable just talking to me.  So after my time in solitary, also known as work, there is going to be a mad dash to the house to rescue my baby from the big bad virus.  Fucking hackers!  Seriously.  Why can't you stick to fun stuff like changing emergency road sign text to warn motorists about impending &lt;a href="http://www.absoluterandom.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/zombie1.jpg"&gt;Nazi Zombie&lt;/a&gt; invasions?  The last virus I got destroyed my hard drive, it's a good thing I had that warranty.  Fortunately, Microsoft has allegedly put a $250,000 price on the guys head for causing so much shit.  Apparently they don't like competition, I think I've seen similar plots on The Sopranos.  Anyway, CNN also lead me to &lt;a href="http://www.voltaicsystems.com/index-US.shtml"&gt;Voltaic Systems&lt;/a&gt; and their totally awesome product line.  They have this really sweet backpack with solar panels that will charge every little gadget I have, save my beastly laptop.  I've actually been tracking this company and their line for a while, but being stuck in Germany and then Riga, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to buy solar powered anything.  I haven't seen my shadow in months, I don't think that shelling out $250 to power my goodies is very practical.  That's not to say that my typical spending habits are exactly practical, but buying this bag now would make about as much sense as *insert favorite analogy for complete uselessness here*.  However, they do have this really sweet &lt;a href="http://www.voltaicsystems.com/work.shtml"&gt;College Rep program&lt;/a&gt;.  Basically, you write to them, and let 'em know you are interested in repping their gear and they give you a discount.  While I can't take advantage of this program because I take all my classes on the internet, I highly suggest all you trendy, environmentally conscious people that go to a real college check it out.  They good news is, I'm probably heading somewhere sunny for my last post (and my birthday is coming up :D).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-8535549938733734770?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/8535549938733734770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=8535549938733734770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8535549938733734770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/8535549938733734770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-geek.html' title='I&apos;m a geek'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-5318735949675857416</id><published>2009-02-04T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T01:02:55.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort Rating Zero</title><content type='html'>Any of you that have worn any type of uniform know well enough that aside from looking sharp and identifying you as being a part of a particular organization they are inherently uncomfortable.  It seems to be part of the design process.  "Yea, man, it looks good.  But it's way too comfortable.  We're going to have to tighten up the pants in awkward places and add some shirt stays."  What?  What's that you say?  You've never heard of shirt stays?  You poor deprived soul.  &lt;a href="http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l20/tnstaafl/buttphag89.jpg"&gt;Shirt stays&lt;/a&gt; are as uncomfortable as bow ties are ridiculous.  They are elastic bands that attach to the hem of your shirt and either loop around your feet or clip on to the tops of your socks.  They have little metal clips that let you adjust the lengh.  Though it seems that no matter how tall you are, everyone has to extend them to their longest possible position.  The metal clips pull the hair on your legs.  This isn't all bad, after you've worn them long enough you get a sexy smooth spot from the extensive chafing action.  Couple that with the fact that no matter how loosly you are able to set them, the pressure from the loops starts to tweak your feet.  Then your underwear rides up because of the straps running down the outside your legs.  In conclusion, my feet hurt, my thighs are balding, and I have crotchal bunching of my undergarments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-5318735949675857416?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/5318735949675857416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=5318735949675857416' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5318735949675857416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5318735949675857416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/02/comfort-rating-zero.html' title='Comfort Rating Zero'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2230565163250822209</id><published>2009-01-31T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T11:48:32.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bobsleding!</title><content type='html'>That's right kiddies.  Where on your adventures have you ever had a chance to try out some no shit bobsleding?  For months now I've been wondering how it is the Latvian people don't go absolutly crazy during the winter.  Surly I've been working it myself, but what do they do?  So when my boss suggested that we all go bobsleding, we all thought it would be a pretty sweet time.  Due to how flat most of Latvie is, I'm thinking a rickity four man cart down a huge pile of ice pushed together outside the local supermarket.  Turns out that the Latvian Olympic Bobsled Team is in hot contention every four years for first place.  Not too far from Riga is where they train.  It costs 35 Lats for one run, about 70 dollars, and only lasts 47 seconds.  Luckily, I didn't pay for it.  It was -11 degrees C and we were barreling down this hill at 70mph incurring up to 4G's on the corners!  Total blast.  I'm really not built for this winter stuff.  Especially when it's this freaking cold, but I think I'm giong to hit there little snowboard slopes before everything melts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2230565163250822209?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2230565163250822209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2230565163250822209' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2230565163250822209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2230565163250822209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/01/bobsleding.html' title='Bobsleding!'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-5224966179031136336</id><published>2009-01-30T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T10:54:26.639-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mp3 player</title><content type='html'>My ipod died. For real this time. No bringing it back to life like the time I spilled beer all over it. Though it did work surprisingly well for having enough good German beer to knock me over, hence it's drinking habit (of the ipod, stay with me). So into the wild blue yonder (internet) I rocketed myself like that &lt;a href="http://nymag.com/images/2/daily/intel/07/09/14_verucasalt_lgl.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bratty little bitch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory after her golden goose looking for a new mp3 player. But which one? There are so many to choose from. Arguably, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/ipod-touch-5.jpg"&gt;Apple's ipod&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;a href="http://images.appleinsider.com/zune2-071003-1.png"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Microsoft's Zune&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; are dominating the market. They both have their ups and their downs, so which one? The ipod is sleak, sexy, and (lets face it) you just aren't cool if you dont have one. But the Zune has much more features like: easier navigation, better catorgization, a FM radio tuner, syncs wirelessly with your computer, and (best of all) you dont have to spend a meaty portion of your natural born life to transfer the mp3s you already have into that stupid, USELESS, itunes freaking format! Lets talk cons, iTUNES FORMAT!!! complete BULLSHIT! that's just another way for these tech companies to eat ever further away at your soul while you wait yet again for something you shouldn't need to do. Like when you spend loads of your time installing "upgrades" and "updates" to software the day you get it because Microsoft knows you're going to buy their unfinished shit anyway. Which brings me to the Zune. It's like heaven, the idea of all of these features packed into one tiny box is awesome. But their tech support is complete shit! Lets stay with the heavan analogy. That would be like taking every significant quotable reference out of the Bible. How good a chance do you think you'd have getting into heaven if you didn't have the freaking 10 Commandments? I was on the phone for 45 minutes trying to order one of these damn things and nobody could help me. WTFO? (that's "what the fuck, over" for you non geek types) Initially I was just having a problem with the web site but after being transfered to nearly every department they have I discovered that you can't order the shit you want over the phone when the website is throwing a tantrum. Being involved in the money making business for some time now, that just doesn't make sense. Shouldn't you want to make it as easy as possible to sell your stuff to people so you make more money? Silly me. I guess there comes a time in every evil super gigantic company's life when they realize that they really are omnipotent presence their leaders always dreamed of, at which time my lowly order of $259.99 + the cost of shipping doesn't fucking matter. I'm not going to lie, I still want one but fuck, why does it have to be so hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-5224966179031136336?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/5224966179031136336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=5224966179031136336' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5224966179031136336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/5224966179031136336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/01/mp3-player.html' title='mp3 player'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-7069857336702986586</id><published>2009-01-24T01:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T03:43:57.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Dreams</title><content type='html'>Ever have one of those dreams you have to pry yourself out of?  Like you're watching a really bad B movie and you want to leave, you really do but you're stuck in your seat.  I was at work (in the dream, not sleeping at work) and everything was all wrong.  Something about the building and the lights and some other stuff.  There were black bag scattered about, they looked like weapon cases.  So I'm looking around, cause that's the most awesome part about my job, and I find this guy in one of the offices.  He's kinda dumb looking.  I don't mean to be rude but just by the looks of him you could tell he was a bit slow on the uptake.  And he had these tribal tattoos on the left side of his face.  Fucking weird.  I asked him what he was doing in the buildign and he pulls a gun on me!  So I pull mine but I pull the trigger for some reason but lucky for me, he can't get a round off anywhere near my direction.  He gets all pissed off and tries to throw it at me and misses that too...  I pick up his gun and try to shoot him with it but it's a revolver and it's empty.  I walked back into the hallway and that was it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-7069857336702986586?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/7069857336702986586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=7069857336702986586' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7069857336702986586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/7069857336702986586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2009/01/strange-dreams.html' title='Strange Dreams'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1955080894653550248</id><published>2008-12-26T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T21:13:39.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Philosophy Paper</title><content type='html'>This was the last assignment I turned in.  Not the final paper, I dropped the class.  Turns out I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of why I should give a shit if Plato thought my computer has the Form Squareness...  In the face of modern science, that's completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;.  I can see why back then it might of made sence to quantify things any way you could, but now, it's not worth the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the universe have a purpose? Does life have a purpose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that the idea of a purpose is entirely made up.  It’s a thing that people made up as we went along to quantify our existence.  We realized fairly early on that we weren’t quite like other creatures on the planet.  We tried to explain this.  We tried to explain events.  “Why did that just happen?”  “It happened because of this.”  “Well what should I do about it?”  Human beings have a never ending compulsion to reason.  Whether or not the reasoning methods of a particular &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_c6HsiixFS8"&gt;person&lt;/a&gt; make sense isn’t important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The simple fact of the matter is that the universe just is.  Life just is.  You can play out a seemingly endless game of cause and effect to ascertain the “the beginning”, or whatever you want to call it.  But it doesn’t change the fact that stuff exists.  If you were to ask my mother why the universe existed or if life has a purpose she’d say, “To make you ask questions”.  Now this devilishly annoying response, which I’ve been getting for nearly a quarter of a century, might be more profound than I had originally allowed for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it extremely difficult to think that an all powerful being or collective of similar inbred beings, see Greek/Roman mythology, would ever get it in their head to create something for us to contemplate endlessly.  I can think of a million other things I would rather do with my time than think of ways to confuse other people, or start wars… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do appreciate about my mother’s tagline is that it makes more sense than trying to answer the question of “why does it exist”.  More interesting to me is the question of, “Why do you care?”  I don’t care if a rock exists or why Chinese people used to think foot binding was sexy.  Why does it matter?  Contemplating questions of the past makes sense.  It allows us to evaluate our experience and learn from our mistakes.  But wondering why the universe exists doesn’t really make a lot of sense, it’s an unanswerable question.  Just as soon as you think you’ve got it, someone else tells you, you don’t, and you’re back to square one.  You can’t truly know you have the answer unless everyone is in agreement, but this presents another issue, “does that rock really exist after all?”  Since everyone agreeing is as difficult as getting ten people trying to agree on pizza toppings, we’re all going to go hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1955080894653550248?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1955080894653550248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1955080894653550248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1955080894653550248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1955080894653550248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/12/philosophy-paper.html' title='Philosophy Paper'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6387028804124236179</id><published>2008-12-26T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:52:26.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>I had THE strangest dream last night.  Cast includes but is not limited to the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;br /&gt;Shane&lt;br /&gt;Samuel L Jackson&lt;br /&gt;Tanya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Hayden Panettiere" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hayden_Panettiere"&gt;Hayden Panettiere&lt;/a&gt; aka Clair Benet&lt;br /&gt;My Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were more people but I think the list so far illistrates the strangeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with most other dreams, I woke up out of this one and it was the world around me that didn't seem real.  Unfortunatly, I don't remember the whole thing.  What I do remember is the Haden part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scene starts off with her as a baby.  She's being watched by a babysitter and everything is cool.  Scene cuts to the end of the night when the parents come home and the babysitter is gone.  Parents freak out, blah, blah, blah.  Fast forward.  Haden is about 7.  We come to find out she's really some sort of freaky alien creature that happens to be an excelent swimmer.  She proceeds to run around eating people and somehow always seems to swim away before we catch her.  I woke up later in the story when she was the Haden we all know and love.  By this time she had "control" over her urge to eat people though.  I really wish I could remember more, but this by itself is freaking weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6387028804124236179?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6387028804124236179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6387028804124236179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6387028804124236179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6387028804124236179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/12/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6430657836921681832</id><published>2008-10-09T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T12:42:32.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TMO</title><content type='html'>don't ask me what the hell that stands for, because i'm not sure that anyone knows.  and if they do, i don't care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my TMO today.  My 'puter is up and running with my thump thumps.  I'm all giddy about that one.  They were the first thing I unpacked.  Now all I need is a couple of cables for my other screen.  But I'm totally loving having two computers again.  So much better.  I also got my books and my skates, which I'm taking out tomorrow.  OH! and my movies!!!  Super stoked about that one.  But mainly, I think I'm mostly excited about having music again.  I really feel like part of me is missing when I don't have my tunes.  And my toy helichopter...  Yea, I'm awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6430657836921681832?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6430657836921681832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6430657836921681832' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6430657836921681832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6430657836921681832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/10/tmo.html' title='TMO'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-6015576477053189052</id><published>2008-10-07T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T04:39:23.351-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie cririques'/><title type='text'>Mirrors</title><content type='html'>I figure that since I went and saw it twice, I should do a post on it.  Even though, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; convinced that it's not in theaters back home anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It actually wasn't good enough to see twice, please refer to The Dark Knight in case you're confused on what's good enough.  It was an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accident&lt;/span&gt;.  I went with a friend to the movies and she picked the movie, I had honestly forgotten that I'd seen it until the first scene.  That's how much of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;impression&lt;/span&gt; it made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you read my post on Midnight Meat Train, you'll know how much I love shitty little horror flicks.  This one didn't quite cut it.  It wasn't shitty enough to be endearing and it wasn't good enough to wait for on DVD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keefer&lt;/span&gt; Sutherland plays the main, a formally undercover cop that shot a police officer and gets a job at a burned down department store as a night security guard.  Crazy shit starts happening with the mirrors and eventually every reflective object he comes in contact with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I don't like loose ends.  Unless you are making a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sequel&lt;/span&gt;, they are totally annoying.  They never explain what the circumstances were with the shooting.  I got all the way to the end of the movie wondering what happened.  They write the whole thing off with "it was an accident".  That's the only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;explanation&lt;/span&gt; you get.  annoying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deaths were mediocre at best.  Although I'm sure that if I were a ghost in a mirror I probably wouldnt fuck around either.  Just get it over with, right?  I was dissapointed to see Amy Smart go so quickly, but I guess they had to do something to make Keefer stand out.  I think the best one was...  Oh wait, there were only two, if you don't count the nun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, it wasn't bad or good, it was fairly predictable though.  I'm sure you can even get the ending in the first ten minutes if you really think about it.  Just another reason for me to get a small popcorn and a large coke.  Which is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; required.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-6015576477053189052?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/6015576477053189052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=6015576477053189052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6015576477053189052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/6015576477053189052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/10/mirrors.html' title='Mirrors'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-2261392831732435570</id><published>2008-10-07T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T04:14:23.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still alive</title><content type='html'>busy busy busy.  I haven't posted on here in so long I almost had to type the url into my browser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got some good news though...  As you may read, I got Spore in the mail yesterday. *Totally awesome* I've also got almost all the movies I ordered from Amazon.  I'm still waiting on The Adventures of Barron Munchausen (phonetic spelling), I'll be sending a nasty gram about that in a minute.  Oh, and all my stuff from Germany is going to be getting here on Thursday!!!  Maybe I'll get to take my skates out before the weather gets crazy.  Lets see if I can post some other stuff too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-2261392831732435570?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/2261392831732435570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=2261392831732435570' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2261392831732435570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/2261392831732435570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/10/still-alive.html' title='Still alive'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1217344502984852320</id><published>2008-09-21T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:19:43.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spore Cometh</title><content type='html'>I feel a bit noobish.  It's not like I haven't be salavating with anticipation over this game or anything.  I can't believe that I didn't order it as soon as it came out.  But it's finally on it's way!  Hopefully my computer gets here before the game does.  Can you imagine the frustration of having one of the most highly anticipated games ever and no computer?  I would be reduced to a childlike state in no time.  You could probably find me in a dark corner playing with the box, making little creature sounds, taping on evolutionary advances when I think I've earned enough dna points.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1217344502984852320?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1217344502984852320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1217344502984852320' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1217344502984852320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1217344502984852320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/09/spore-cometh.html' title='Spore Cometh'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1459426287615965616</id><published>2008-09-18T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T00:35:14.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S ALIVE!!1!</title><content type='html'>I just called HP to check the status on my laptop. The very same laptop that I spent nearly $2000 bucks not 6 months ago. For some mysterious reason, one of the hard drives died on me. So after parting with a month and a half worth of my hard earned wages, waiting two months for it to be built and shipped to Frankfurt, and being without it for nearly two months for the repairs, I've just been informed that it should be shipped back to me by next Monday. Just another two weeks after that and I'll be back online! Assuming of course that the internet at the house gets fixed. As I understand it, it's going to take some serious voodoo to make that work. But we'll see. If there is one thing that Marines are good at, it's getting around problems. I'm not sure how I'd get around simply not having a connection, but I'm sure it's nothing a credit card and some orange juice can't fix. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1459426287615965616?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1459426287615965616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1459426287615965616' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1459426287615965616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1459426287615965616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-alive1.html' title='IT&apos;S ALIVE!!1!'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4515905493901559901</id><published>2008-09-17T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T23:30:28.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What to post?</title><content type='html'>I started this thing with loads of stuff to say.  Which aparently peatered out in 5 posts...  At the recomendation of my girlfriend, I find myself required to post something or suffer the pain of knowing that people wont read my work when I actually have something to say.  The only problem is, I don't have anything to say.  I suppose if I were the type that could just talk and talk with nothing to actually contribute, I'd be a politician.  But seeing as how I'm not a politician and the fate of my blog hangs in the balance, I had better come up with something.  Any ideas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4515905493901559901?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4515905493901559901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4515905493901559901' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4515905493901559901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4515905493901559901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-to-post.html' title='What to post?'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4244749549498066470</id><published>2008-09-04T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T11:47:46.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Belt</title><content type='html'>Red Belt is about a struggleing Ju Jitsu instructor that happens to have the worst possible luck EVER.  Hung high with impecible morals and a warrior code that is nothing short of the real deal.  He's the type of guy that does everything for the right reasons all of the time.  Even when he's getting jumped by two dudes in a bar fight, he finds the time to think clearly and not lose his cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a good martial arts movie.  Watching people defy gravity and keep emergency rooms the center of inner city night life with their bare hands is awesome.  That's where this one fell short.  From the first scene, you know this guy is a bad ass.  But through the whole thing there is only really one good scene.  I use the term "good" loosly.  The camera was more often than not, too close in and focusing on the faces of the fighters.   So as a martial arts movie, great message, but it needs more moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the horrible luck.  Right after the first scene is when it starts to go down hill.  It's one thing after another with this guy and he doesn't seem to get a break.  He literaly has to fight his way out of the rut just to pay the bills.   The whole thing comes to climax and then conclusion seemingly back to back.  "Oh shit, it can't  get any worse" *FIGHT SCENE* "Oh shit, it doesn't get better than this"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could have been a bit longer.  Maybe throw in scene of the school doing really well right at the end with the teacher instructing a couple dozen students at once.  People like that stuff right?  I guess that's what you get when the biggest named actor you have on staff is Tim "the tool man" Taylor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4244749549498066470?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4244749549498066470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4244749549498066470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4244749549498066470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4244749549498066470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/09/red-belt.html' title='Red Belt'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1838703423274057567</id><published>2008-08-26T06:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T09:09:08.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raging Bull</title><content type='html'>I went out last night to this pretty cool little bar and made up a new drink, The Raging Bull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throw some Ice in a whiskey glass and fill it half full with the Red Bull&lt;br /&gt;1 shot Rasberry Vodka&lt;br /&gt;1 shot Mailbu&lt;br /&gt;splash of Grenidine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1838703423274057567?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1838703423274057567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1838703423274057567' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1838703423274057567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1838703423274057567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/08/raging-bull.html' title='Raging Bull'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1994572945129996707</id><published>2008-08-26T04:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T05:34:36.318-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eats'/><title type='text'>Mah tummy goes "gurgle gurgle gurgle"</title><content type='html'>I'm standing in my box thinking about how hungry I am right now. I know what you are thinking, why don't you get some food. Brilliant idea! It just so happens that I thought of it myself about ten minutes ago. "What did I do about" it you ask? The same thing any man with a plate or curry chicken and wild rice would do, I popped that sucker in the microwave and salavated with anticipation over the delecious aroma that was wafting out of wherever it is that those microwaves leak out so they can kill my sperms. So why the post? I DON'T HAVE A FUCKING FORK! Stuck in the box with wafty deliciousness and no utencils.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1994572945129996707?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1994572945129996707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1994572945129996707' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1994572945129996707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1994572945129996707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/08/mah-tummy-goes-gurgle-gurgle-gurgle.html' title='Mah tummy goes &quot;gurgle gurgle gurgle&quot;'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-1307585719603287288</id><published>2008-08-25T10:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T11:24:37.117-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Midnight Meat Train</title><content type='html'>This was it, the movie that inspired me to start this blog and eventually my own website.  I suppose that I should be thankful... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First things first, it's not a gay porn as you may have guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started off with a decent idea for a thriller.  Killer hacks up bodies on the last train, takes them to the abandoned stop under the meat packing facility where he works, and takes care of the bodies.  Not half bad and to the best of my knowledge it hasn't been done before.  Despite the mediocre acting and the forseeable tragic end to the complsive do-gooder photographer main character, I was still pissed off at the various conversations that people thought were more important than my cinematic expierence.  Everything took a dramatic turn for the worse with about twenty minutes left.  Now bare in mind that the things that I found wrong with the film could have apealed to my sick love affair with shitty little horror flicks if only they hadn't been shoved down my throat so fast that I felt more like a recently violated sheep owned by a farmer that doesn't know that "baa" means no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get a little hint of this conspiracy that's been going on for about a centuary.  This gets very weakly confirmed by a cop that is wearing the same symbol as the killer.  The complsive do-gooder photographer gets his girlfriend involved and his best friend killed when he tries to take on the butcher (Vinnie Jones).  I'd like to quote my brother on this, "Vinnie Jones would ruin your shit".  This scrawny, underslept, night stalking, fried tofu sucking (not to say anything bad about veggies cause my girl would kill me) took on the butcher in a fight that included classic weapons like a butcher knife *duh* a pretty gnarly looking meat hammer and what apeared to be a broken leg bone.  Sad to say, the do-gooder won (please refer to my brothers quote for statistical data on the chances of that happening) with the leg bone through the neck and the butcher knife through the back of the head and out the mouth.  Then you find out that the bodies weren't being disposed of at the meat packing facility.  They were being eaten by the hundred year old humanoid creatures that the "cult" has been covering for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say something about monsters, if you are going to show the monster, show the fucking monster!  If you aren't, that's fine, but don't leave me with one view of a Hitchcock-style silhouette.  It's just wrong.  It's kinda like getting a side boob shot when you know damn well you paid for at least a whole tit.  Well not really...  side boob is sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there things get worse.  The train driver, who you find out earlier is in on the "opperation" comes down and starts doing the classic bad guy reveals the master plan bit.  Now I'm thinking that I might get a little happy ending warm and fuzzy right at the very end.  Wrong.  This driver picks up the do-gooder by the neck and lifts him straight up off the ground and rips out his tongue with his bare hand. The do-gooder sits there gurgling through the drivers worthless one note solo and then watches the as his girl gets fileted.  cough cough pussy cough...  I don't know about you, tongue or no tongue, I'm going to try to save my girl.  She might leave me later cause I can't do that thing she likes anymore, but at least I tried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, the driver reveals that the do-gooder has to stop taking nakie photos of celebs for The Enquirer cause he's gotta be the new butcher. AND HE FUCKING DOES IT!!!  Just like that, new butcher.  And worse yet, they left it open wider than a donkey show performer after the third act for a damn sequel.  Last couple scenes you see num nuts putting on the SAME UGLY FRICKEN SUIT that the last tonguelss bastard was wearing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End *crosses fingers and prays there isn't a sequal*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-1307585719603287288?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/1307585719603287288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=1307585719603287288' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1307585719603287288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/1307585719603287288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/08/midnight-meat-train.html' title='Midnight Meat Train'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109496916613915432.post-4025445617823403320</id><published>2008-08-25T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T09:06:10.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First post</title><content type='html'>So here it is, The first of hopefully many rants, raves, and movie critiques that may or may not give you insight to the way I perceive the world. Please enjoy and comment on whatever you like. Try to keep it clean, my grandmother might read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109496916613915432-4025445617823403320?l=pistrisca.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/feeds/4025445617823403320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109496916613915432&amp;postID=4025445617823403320' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4025445617823403320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109496916613915432/posts/default/4025445617823403320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pistrisca.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-post.html' title='First post'/><author><name>-Aaron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06510042458033459732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oA3WsQaCbrE/SVW7Ba7z_II/AAAAAAAAAAM/u9VWCklrDXs/S220/turtles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
