Yesterday we had a longish break for lunch, so a few of us went out to eat. We went to “El Salto”, which is an awesome Mexican food place near school. It was Angie, Michele, Brady, and me. After being there for a while, Brady commented on how all the other customers were men. I had noticed it too. All men in their late 20′s or early 30′s. All dressed in polos or in button down shirts with no tie. And all of them had similar mannerisms. The only women in the restaurant were at our table or were waitresses.
After noticing it, we went back to our conversation, but uneasiness hovered at the edges of my mind. What was going on? Where were the women?
Attempted spam comments are a regular occurrence now. I remember being excited the first time I was hit with it. Now it’s just a regular part of life for a famous internet personage like me.
I’ve noticed an interesting trend lately with the spam that hits me. It’s almost all directed at a single post. It’s called Cutting Rosebushes, Hair. I don’t know what makes it so attractive to spam robots, but I’m clearing spam comments away from it on a regular basis. I wonder if I closed the comments on that post, would the robots would stop posting to my site or would they find another entry to fix on?
Have you ever wondered where telephone poles come from? I think I might have found out yesterday.
I once again went to Badolato Stone Supply to get some Pennsylvania field stone for a garden project. Badolato is in a twisty place that has a lot of roads that look like alleys. I turned a little too soon and found myself in an unfamiliar area. I turned again and saw something quite peculiar. The sign said “Comcast Pole Farm”. Behind a chain-link fence and coils of razor wire, there was a forest of telephone poles, some taller than others. It was as if they were growing there. Risking the wrath of the Comcast SS, I took a picture.
Behold, the (possible) origin of telephone poles:
We ate at a Japanese hibachi grill restaurant last night. It was delicious. I was embarrassed that I could not catch a thrown shrimp in my mouth. The cook guy tried three times before he went on to the next person. After trying with everyone else, he tried me again, and on the fifth throw, I finally caught the shrimp. Geez!
I was keeping my eye out for the Japanese Illuminati. I didn’t suspect our server, but the family who sat at the table with us was mighty suspicious. The wife was Japanese, but the husband was white. What really caught my attention was his hair. He had a white spot on the top of his head. Was it a mark of his alignment to the Illuminati? And was that small person their son, or was it just a really, really small Japanese man?
Yesterday was a walking day. We saw many amazing sites. The hotels out here are incredible. They all have themes and they are all ginormous. Here are a few samples:
The Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas:
The Statue of Liberty at New York New York:
The Sphynx and pyramid at the Luxor:
The most shocking event of the day was a possible sighting of the Japanese Illuminati. At first, this looked like just an ordinary man:
Look at the strange marking on the cuff of his pants. Could it be the same symbol I saw at the restaurant in Baltimore?
I spent the late afternoon at the pool. It was overcast and cool. Perfect weather for lounging and reading a book. …until an extremely rude couple sat down next to me and started blaring music from their iPod. What the?
I finished the evening by watching the pirate show in front of Treasure Island. It was a little disappointing though. Instead of a good guys versus bad guys show, it was pirates versus sirens, who were more than a little slutty. I was worried about all the little kids in the audience.
