I've decided that I want to. So I'm just going to declare right here and now, that I, Ricky Borba, own the moon. Any trips to the moon, whether it be for research purposes, or to colonize, must be approved by me. Also, anyone looking to colonize on the moon, must purchase a permit to do so, through me.
I would appreciate it everyone who reads this post could use the comments section to write your name in as a show of agreement that I own the moon. If I can get this post out there onto some other popular websites and garner enough support, I may write my local congressman, or even the governor. You know what, why don't I just aim for the moon, so to speak, and write our President when I get enough support. Thanks everyone!
I have decided to update since the initial post, and put my qualifications for why I should own the moon:
1. I love Star Wars. It's my favorite movie (or movies if you will). It takes place in space, and while it doesn't have Earth's moon as a location, it does have other moons. And seeing how I've watched Star Wars so many times, I've got a pretty good idea of how space is.
2. I see the moon almost every night. I even have a nice telescope that has allowed me to look at it closer, thus getting to know it a little more intimately.
3. I know how to say "moon" in Spanish. It's "luna".
4. I've given a lot of "full-moons" in my life.
5. When I was growing up I had a huge mural on my bedroom wall of the space shuttle discovery doing some sort of work above the moon.
Nope. That picture of Randy Moss and the word "character" do not go together. Unless you're speaking about "character" in terms of how not to act.
I was watching the NFL draft this weekend. Sunday morning before day two of the draft started, the Raiders (the leagues worst team) traded Randy Moss, one of the games best wide receivers (when he feels like it) to probably the best overall teams in the league, the New England Patriots. The trade wasn't that shocking, considering that for weeks it had been speculated about on ESPN and other sports shows.
The part where I lost all respect for Randy Moss was when he told ESPN regarding the fact that he is now on the Patriots, "Now that I'm on a good team, the world is going to see what kind of player I am and what kind of character I'm made of". That's the problem. Character isn't developed when things are going right. You don't develop character by getting your way after making it miserable for the people around you when things are going bad. Character is developed when you're down in a ditch and you have no where else to go but down. Character is developed when your situation is horrible and you have to suck it up and be a leader or make the best of things.
I don't know how to close out this post, I have a lot more to say about Randy Moss and "character", but I think I've made my point.
In other news completely unrelated, my father-in-law told me that "left-handed" comes from the latin word for "sinister". I wonder if he was trying to let me know how he feels about me??
Last night I was attempting to put some blond highlights in my hair. I went to the hair supply store after work. (By the way, I'm not gay, just in case you're new to my website) Way back when, when I used to highlight my hair all the time, I used a powder based dye. But the girl at the counter last night told me the liquid based dye was better. So last night I put on the frosting cap, pulled my hair through the little holes (I swear I'm not gay) and applied the liquid dye.
About 20 minutes later, my scalp started to burn. A lot. I thought to myself, "wow, this isn't normal". So I pulled my frosting cap off, to find what I can only describe as a "skunk-like" pattern on my head. Splotches of blond, splotches of light brown, splotches of dark brown, and splotches of auburn. I had a decision to make. Either go to the store and buy some dark brown hair dye. Full well knowing that I would have different shades brown all over my head anyway. OR, completely shave off my traumatized hair, and start all over.
See that little orange button underneath the tagboard? If you click it, you can subscribe to my blog and get notified everytime I update it! Like, if you had already subscribed, you would have gotten an email regarding this post, notifying you that another literary masterpiece had been posted. So go ahead and click that button, and subscribe. The more subscribers I have, the cooler and more important I will feel! You can also click the orange button right here in this post to subscribe! I make it so easy for you!
Not only did I discover that my cactus, Sticky V, was dead today, but when I came home I discovered that my pet fish of one week, Oscar, was dead too. It would seem that Oscar's bowl was rather small, and perhaps I didn't do the greatest job of keeping it clean for the last week. But come on, how am I supposed to know how often to clean a damn fish bowl? I noticed it was a little cloudy on Saturday night, but I figured that that was normal, and I let it go.
In fact, as recently as yesterday Oscar was swimming around in his little bowl, happy as can be. Sometimes in life people say that humans get sick because they had some bad fish. Well in this case, the fish had a bad human.
I had a cactus. His name was Sticky V. He is dead now. I don't know how it happened. I watered him about once a month, which I thought was the norm for a cactus. Hell, I thought that watering him once a month was excessive, given that he was a cactus. Lately he'd been looking a little flat, not Kate Hudson flat, but more deflated, like someone sucked the air out of him.
Services will be today 3pm, with the viewing from 3pm to 4pm. A family spokescactus said "Sticky gave us all a reason to believe. He will be missed." A family member that wished to remain nameless has asked for the pot that Sticky dwelled in.
I've decided that I'm going to get Amnesia. Here's my plan:
I'm going to buy a one-way ticket to a random US city. Perhaps I'll throw a dart at a map, perhaps I'll dial a random phone number and area code go to that place. Upon arrival I will take my wallet and personal belongings, put them in a ziplock bag, and put them in a locker at the airport. I will then find a semi-busy highway or thoroughfare, and lie down in a ditch next to it and wait there until someone finds me. From there, I will start in with my Amnesia. I'll tell the person that I do not remember how I got here, why I'm here, or my name.
I'll tell them that I'm scared and cold, and a little hungry. When they escort me back to their car to take me home or to the hospital I will freak out and pretend that I've never seen a car before. I'll demand that they drive slowly next to me as I walk along the highway. I'll throw in some random crying, and break down a few times on the side of the road, just to make it seem more heartbreaking.
After a few weeks of these good samaritans taking care of me, I'll start pretending that I've begun to remember a few things. Like "I think I have a family somewhere. I see a house. And a dog. I hear running water." This will again throw them off, thinking I must live near some stream or something. As the years pass with these people taking care of me, I'll ask them if I can take their last name as my own, since I cannot remember anything in more detail.
And just as we're about to get to the court-house to change my name I'll say "Oh yeah I think I left my wallet at the airport, can we go pick it up?" The family will be confused and bewildered. We'll pull up to the curb at the airport, I'll go inside and get my belongings, and then come back outside. I'll tap on the window of my caretakers car to have them roll it down, and I'll say "Oh my God I totally got you guys!" Then I'll slap my drivers license on the windshield and say "I'M RICKY BORBA. REMEMBER THE NAME." I'll probably flip them off or something as I walk away.
I was driving home yesterday, trying to figure out how to make some extra money, when it occurred to me that there is a way. I'm going to dig. Think about it. There is SO MUCH land all over the place. Surely there is something buried somewhere that is worth something. I thought to myself, I can invest about $20 into a nice shovel, and I sure could use the extra workout. So I think I'll head over to the local hardware store tonight, and get me a shovel. I'll spend the rest of this week plotting out some locale's that have some potential in terms of possible buried treasure. For example, I live by the Mission hills. I'm sure at one point when there were some cowboys and indians (feathers, not dots) chasing each other around up there, that someone probably buried something up there. I figure I'll dig for 14 minutes in each spot, because really, who has 15 minutes to spend digging in one spot? If I don't find something in 14 minutes, I'll move onto the next spot. And if I completely strike out in one particular location, I'll sit down again and plot out another place to dig. Like perhaps my neighbors front lawn. The possibilities are endless. I feel like this is a pretty concrete plan to make money. It's almost fool-proof. I think the only thing that could potentially make it not work is if I wuss out and can't shovel as much as I plan to. Anyway, I'll let you all know my findings, once they start pouring in.
On another side note and completely different subject, I receive a lot of email during the day from our 152 franchisees, at my job. People cannot write. At all. I receive no less than 15 emails a day, from people in their 30's and 40's, with a ton of grammatical and spelling errors. I know I may overuse the comma, but at least I can structure a sentence properly. It's ridiculous. I should post some of the examples.
So I went into work an hour and a half late this morning because I took care of Kayla when she woke up, until she went down for her morning nap around 9am. I got to work around 9:30 and didn't hear from Nicki at all in the next couple of hours. So I started calling around 11:30 just to make sure everything was okay. No one answered. So I called sporadically over the next half hour, but nothing. Around 12:15 I started thinking that something could be wrong, so I raced home. To find Kayla still asleep, and Nicki just getting out of an hour-long shower. Not only does she still have morning sickness, but I think she has the flu too.
The cool thing about coming home for the rest of the day with Nicki being sick was that I got to take care of Kayla, ALL DAY. And let me tell you, that is not an easy job. I never once thought that staying home taking care of a baby was easy, but I certainly have a greater appreciation for it now. Kayla crawls all over the place. Over things, under things, around things, and through things. Everything she picks up goes in her mouth. She hates being left alone in a room. Shes tired of eating baby cereal, so everything she sees that isn't her cereal, she says "mmmmmmm". Obviously, because I am a pushover, we end up sharing a lot of food.
This video is for all the Mama's out there. Click play.
You ever feel like there is so much to get done during a day, and you just don't have the time to do it? I get up at 5:45 every day, during the week. And by the time I get home finish with whatever needs to get done around the house and then dinner, it's at least 7pm already. Kayla usually goes to sleep around 7:30 and then I watch tv for a couple of hours and go to bed. I don't know, but that sounds a little off to me. Isn't the most important thing in life your family? The amount of time spent at work, and driving to and from work, is considerably more compared to the time you get to spend with your family and doing things you enjoy.
At our office, our receptionist lived in New Zealand for 23 years and said that we Americans are ridiculous with the amount of hours we work, and demand we put on ourselves in terms of careers. Maybe I should have been a teacher, so I could get 3 months off in the summer, and a few weeks here and there during the school year for Christmas and Easter break. Lately my company has been steadily removing "perks" from the office. Without going into all of them, my point is this: that sort of philosophy is ass backwards to me. Instead of removing perks, and enjoyable things around the office, companies (like google and Ebay) should be making the workplace somewhere you actually want to spend time at. When you take away things that people enjoy, it has an extremely negative effect on not only the employee personally, but as a group as well.
Back to the cloning thing, I just wish I had more time to do the things I love. I'd send my clone to Pump It Up so I could make videos and things like that all day.
There are Christians, non-Christians, athiests, and all other sorts of people with varying religious beliefs discussing this on that link. A lot of it is anger-fueled, with non-christians and athiests calling God a "total fucking prick" along with various other names and descriptions. I'd really like to take the time here to explain all of this, and why first of all, but the thing that pains me the most is to see all of those people denounce God while simultaneously calling him every name in the book. I wish I had a response to that picture. Shame on me for not knowing enough of the Bible to better explain it (if those numbers are in fact true). I know that the 10 people that Satan killed are the people in Job's life that he asked God for permission to kill, to test Job. The 2-million people God killed however, I am curious about. I know God was not happy with people in the Old Testament of the Bible, but that's exactly why he sent his son to die for us in the New Testament. Another thing this image is failing to mention, is the fact that God created Earth, and all of us on it.
The thing is though, you cannot judge God. He's God! I can't even understand myself, let alone the creator of the universe! God is just, and God is fair. I have no idea, other than the words printed in the Bible, about why God did things. You can only learn so much from a book. I have plenty of questions for God once I get to heaven. The Bible says that once I get to heaven, I will understand a lot more, and have knowledge greater than that of any man on Earth. But while I'm down here, I'm not going to be able to wrap my mind around certain things, because I'm human.
Despite any arguing, or explaining of this image, there is one thing that is not debatable. God is real, whether you want to believe in him or not. A lot of people on that thread are saying things like "don't you get it, we non-believers don't believe in your magical man in the sky, so we're not concerned with what's going to happen to us when we die". It's fitting that this discussion is happening so close to Easter. It is a historical fact that Jesus Christ rose from the dead 3 days after he was put to death on a cross. And that if you choose not to believe in him while you are here on Earth, you will be rewarded with a life apart from him when you die. Aka, hell. Those are facts. Whether you want to believe it or not.
It's a hard thing, giving up the things of this world that seemingly give you freedom. Following the word of God is probably the hardest thing I've ever done, and I fail miserably at it everyday. But that's the whole point of Jesus Christ. I'm not saved by my works, or my victories, or failures. I'm going to Heaven simply based on the fact that I believe Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins. Arguing about whether or not God exists, or if he killed 2 million people or why he killed 2 million people is in the end, pointless. It's like trying to say you don't believe in oxygen because you can't see it, or touch it. Just because you can't see God, or touch him, doesn't mean he's not there.
Maybe this is about to be the dumbest thing I've ever said, but I think it's pretty cool that my website got hacked. And the people who hacked it were nice enough to not delete the entire contents of my website. So, thank you, whoever you are.