Another thing that needs to be stopped? Crocs and any "shoes" in that style. I don't care how bloody comfortable they might be, it is time you allow yourself a little bit of discomfort so that I have something nice to look at. It being summertime, there are plenty of girls running around in shorts and skirts and whatnot. Once I see this, the leg man in me is already happy (well, assuming what's being supported by said legs is nice). And then the foot fetishist in me gets very excited knowing that there might be some kind of open-toed footwear action going on further down below. But far too many times have I thought this might be the case, only to look down and find a pair of those awul, awful things on her feet. It's really frustrating. Girls: shoes are supposed to be your thing. How can you allow this to happen? If you can't put on something nice, just go barefoot. It's uncivilized, but hey... I won't complain.

Well, unless if you're in the car. For some reason, I hate anyone having bare feet up on the dash or hanging out the window, even if it's a girl with nice feet. Show some fucking respect, put your goddamn shoes on, and keep them on the floor where they belong. Just one of those weird things about me.

Oh, and for men who wear these stupid fucking things, well, they just look fucking dumb. My sense of style is offended, but my sense of humor is not. So I could go either way on that front. Plus, a lot of guys out there are lucky to be able to get dressed as it is, and I don't have any emotional investment in male footwear besides my own. But you ladies need to knock it the fuck off with those rubber shitshoes.

I was taking a piss the other day and I was thinking to myself, with the wars aside, are we back to where we were before September 11th? We're not worried about terrorist strikes here at home (but we're guarding those UK-related sites, just in case!) and we're so wrapped up in stupid crap (you'll notice that shark attacks are big once again, just like pre-9/11) that Osama could be ready to put his cock in any one of our asses and we wouldn't know until it was too late, or a commercial. I'm not sure why this came to mind at that particular time, but it does seem appropriate. Anyway, with things like this, we're that much closer. On one hand it's like, yup, we're complacent again. On the other hand it's like, good, that shit is a waste of time. You can make people take their shoes off until you're blue in the balls, but when the terrorists decide to strike again they'll find ways around whatever ineffective measures you have in place.

... only passengers who set off metal detectors, are flagged by a computer screening system or look "reasonably suspicious" would be asked to do so...

Well, I know that things like "look reasonably suspicious" won't lead to any problems. I like Bill Maher's idea, in that we need a Secret Service for the airports. A group of highly trained professionals who are good at watching people and being able to pick the one or two out of the crowd and say "that fucker's trouble." Of course, that's gonna cost money, and considering the quality of people that they're willing to pay for, we know the chances of anyone fronting the jack for that kind security are nil.

"The process is designed to stimulate creative thinking and challenge conventional beliefs."

No, it's about cutting back the number of complaints that you people have to deal with, so just cop to it and let's all move on. It would be nice if we really did get some creative thinking, though, but again, that'll cost 'ya. Some common sense would be nice, and theoretically not that costly. I mean, really, there are tons and tons of people who you just know won't do anything. Like me, for instance. Being the brick shithouse that I am, they should just know that I'm not going to hurt anyone. I know, I know... "Not if they saw your 'blog, BLM." Look, I may be angry (and believe me, I have so much to be angry about, being able to fly around town in that car of mine and whatnot), but crashing a plane into a building or just plain blowing it up doesn't accomplish any goals of mine. Especially not with ME ON IT.

With all due respect to many of the Jap "shitboxes" out there... And that entire group of people I just slandered (twice).

That 330i is so agile that it's not even funny. Like I said, I still suck at launches from a dead-stop, and even with that higher weight the 7er can fucking move. This is coupled with the fact that the way the 3 Series is set up, it's not good for drag racing -- and this is an opinion coming from people who know shit about shit, not just me making excuses. But once I get into traffic and have to start maneuvering, I am king. Apparently. Man, that was fucking fun. I really, really shouldn't be doing that. And it's not like I'm going to make a habit of it -- but the 7er wanted some, so like the smart kid that I am I took the bait. Assholes represent. And my girl more than held her own against a $70,000 machine. No no no, let me specify -- a $70,000 BMW. She didn't fall back until I decided, okay, time to go back to being a pussy since we're a little too close to downtown and potential speed traps, which at 100 even my radar detector might not be too much of a help with. But still -- that was fucking great. Hey, no tickets, no one died, no accidents, and some guy in a Lancer got to pretend he was someone.

I am so hard on that poor car, but I just can't help it. I guess I'm one of those guys who shows his love through abuse. Hey, if she didn't like it rough, she wouldn't have that sexy six-speed. She wouldn't have that delightfully tight suspension if she didn't want a little. Or a lot. She wouldn't have tires that can grip like no other and a nor a top speed of 155 MPH if she wasn't a naughty girl. Hey, even if I drive her hard, I take good care of her, thank you very much. She's washed regularly, gets good gas, early oil changes, and stays garaged every chance I get (just ask ETP whenever he drives us somewhere). Really, though, I've gotta continue to get better with that car, because she does deserve better. Regardless of how I show my affection, I've realized that I may have nicer cars in the future and I may have faster cars in the future, but I will never love any of them like this one.

Best quiz I've seen in awhile.

Google search:

meet a girl to fuck in colorado springs

Well, I'm sure you can find one to spout off a bunch of stupid shit about Jesus, but that isn't exactly conducive to getting your freak on.

Unlike that woman from a few days ago, the woman in this week's useless big story probably won't be showing up on page 39 anytime soon. I'm gonna bust you out of prison and kill a corrections officer for you -- that's true love right there. And true love, as it often is, is fucking stupid. Before, you were just a freaky looking woman with a convict husband who got shitcanned from a job because of said husband, and now you're a freaky looking woman with a convict husband who got shitcanned from a job because of said husband who is also going to jail for jailbreak and murder. Hope that was worth it.

Speaking of "big stories," the stupid shuttle is back. Personally, I hope we never launch another shuttle again. I'm not against science and all that nerdy shit (obviously), but I can't take another go-round of this stupid crap. I know that it won't be like this unless if something else blows up, but still, I don't want to risk anymore fake drama. There's already enough of that in the media as it is. If nothing else, we had better go back to thinking that the space shuttle is boring with nobody giving a fuck about its comings and goings.

What kind of a fucking idiot puts a Mini on the same list as a Gullwing? Fuck the Mini -- I don't care how cute it supposedly is. And if you're one of those people who has a Mini and thinks you have a BMW just because BMW owns Mini, you don't.

HTH

Google search:

sonic lolicon

Whoa, this is like, the best idea ever. Going to Sonic to feed both the need for tasty burgers and my Lolita complex? What's not to like about that? Yeah, yeah, the drive to cut back on these types of jokes is still going poorly, but this time it's the fault of some Google fuck, not me.

I of course say this assuming that there are any decent Sonic burger joints left out there, because I think it's been almost two years since I've been to one. Back in the day, Sonic was the fucking best. I wouldn't get to go as often as some of the other fast food places because they weren't as wide-spread. Typically, Sonic would only show up in some total shit town, like Rocky Ford or Pueblo. Okay, Pueblo isn't that bad -- I should know since that's where I'm originally from -- it's just not that great. And while Rocky Ford has its cantaloupes, it's out in the middle of nowhere. But I digress, so back to Sonic.

Yeah, Sonics were few and far between when I was growing up, and they were never in the major cities. There was one in Pueblo, but it was closer to downtown (or what passes for our downtown)and I was a south-side kid. When ETP and I were at CU, we'd hit the one in Lafayette from time to time. That was when Sonic was starting to show up all over the place, though, and the quality of the food was in decline. At that point, it seemed as if the shit towns would have the good Sonics, and the bigger towns would have the lousy ones. I don't know what the situation is like today.

I knew it was pretty much all over (or at least that it would be sometime soon) when I first saw a Sonic with a drive-thru. Up until a few years ago, they were strictly car-hop, with the exception of a couple of tables if you wanted to sit outside. Shit, even A&W abandoned car hops way back in the 80s (or at least the ones I knew of), but Sonic was hard core... For awhile longer. Those drive-thrus are pure blasphemy. That doesn't mean I haven't used them, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy with myself, either. It's like beating off thinking about your sister. It's not really hurting anyone, right? And no one has to know about it, at least not until you blabber it to the world on your 'blog. Actually, I don't even have a sister, so I'm good to go on that front. I do have a stepsister, though, who is incredibly hot, or at least she was until she came out of the closet and started making herself look like a boy. For those of you with a real, blood related sister, however: you're welcome.

Alright, so when I started this post, I knew it wasn't going to be good because of the lolicon thing, but I didn't know it would get into reminiscing and that. So we'll get back to something a bit more normal. Another thing that used to be great about Sonic? Other than your horrible, horrible shame, of course, which I find hilarious. They hired, hands down, some of the hottest girls to work as car hops. Now, they weren't all attractive, but when they found a hottie they found a motherfuc goddamn hottie. The same goes for Outback Steakhouse -- I have seen some bloody cute hostesses working at a couple of their restaurants. Again, they're not all hot, but when they do it they do it right. No rules, in fact. Just right.

There's a hot one working at the Outback near me, in fact, but there's no way in hell I'm hitting on her. Let's just say that my track record with trying to pick up the hostess at Outback is not stellar. Part of me really wants to want to, though. I mean, think about that: a hot girlfriend, and being able to get cut a deal on good steak? It doesn't get much better than that, my friends (aside from bugers and lolis, of course). But I have no skills, so that too will remain a fantasy.

I'm expecting to see this woman on page 39 sometime in the near future. My first reaction is, how do you fuck that up? Assuming it wasn't on purpose, of course -- that's always a possibility. But really, once I think about how guys are, I'm like, that's about right. You know who I really blame for that situation? The daughter. Unless if she was asleep, why wasn't there a "Where's mommy?" from her? Man, that woman's family hates her.

One of those posts

Look, it's not my fault, it's fucking Google people who do this. It's not like I could refrain from posting it, nor would I ever just search for excuses to bring up fucked up shit even without search engines. Google search:

appliances "getting fucked by" -animals, -dogs, -horses

This one speaks for itself, only it doesn't. Getting fucked by appliances? Or someone or something fucking appliances? What is this, the video for Sexx Laws? Unless if they're small -- i.e. handheld -- appliances, I'm not sure how appliance fucking would really be accomplished anyway. And why did they feel the need to exclude results involving animals? Is there some big crossover between appliance fucking and bestiality that makes it necessary? I know you're looking at me as if I should know the answer, but I don't. I haven't even heard people talk about that in chatrooms, so it's gotta be way out there. As opposed to, you know, animal or appliance fucking on their own, which are both totally mainstream. Well, like I said, you can make a case for appliances, but a vibrator discussion is left as an exercise to the reader.

I put nads on all my action figures

This isn't that funny, but it's good for a chuckle:



Okay, I dunno about you, but the more I watch it, the funnier it gets.

Another satisfied customer

Yahoo search:

I want to kill my boyfriend

Okay, so it's mildly amusing that someone was so pissed at their boyfriend that they actually ran this search. What really got me, though, is that they got to my site from page 39 of the search results. Assuming that they went through pages 1-38, I'm really wondering what this guy did to get his SO so pissed off. Oh, and just fucking break up with him. I don't know much about relationships, but I do know that page 39 is not a sign of something that's gonna last.

Okay, so I'm back on totally fucked up goofy schedule. It's 7 AM, and when most people are starting it up, I'm shutting it down. And no, not because I was up all night beating off in chat rooms. Not this morning, at least. I was bloody productive at work, and soon I'm going to pass out and then get up for Friday without having to worry about work for the rest of the day. I'm either really stupid or a total genius. Either way, technically, I'm as hard as steel. And it's always nice to get in a good Star Trek joke when you're about ready to die.

Why does he keep doing that with his shoulders?

I'm shamelessly ripping off this link from ETP, who in turn ripped it off from Cake. You can thank me later when you can't get it out of your head, even if you don't know whether or not it's comprised of real words because you're an ignorant monolingual. Seriously, you can't tell me that isn't the best new song you've heard in awhile, and the best video you've seen in a long while. Considering the utter shit that's out there, that last statement was made with no sarcasm whatsoever. Okay, maybe a little.

Okay, so I've mentioned the sex-advice column Savage Love before. I've even linked this particular column in the past. But since I don't make a habit of re-linking things around here, I'll go for it -- just this once. Hey, Dan Savage is on vacation, so this is what they're currently running. It's worth it, anyway, for... All of it. This particular set of letters was my first exposure to Savage Love many many years ago, and it was a helluva a way to start.

Yahoo search:

fuck up the vagina

I don't think it's possible to fuck the vagina up -- any more, that is. That thing is already too complicated.

ETP, if you remember Dane Cook's line about cow tongues, post it in a comment. I surely would have put it here if I knew it off the top of my head.

Yahoo search:

fucking while cutting hair

This is simultaneously the funniest and scariest thing I've heard recently. I mean, seriously, I never even thought of combining sex with haircutting, to say nothing of it being something one could get turned on over. I just don't tend to mix scissors with sex. This brings us to why it's a fightenting prospect, which speaks for itself.

So I've gotten quite a few hits in the past few days thanks to a link from this site. I figured it was worth a mention so that they can get one or two hits in exchange for the hundreds that they got me. I don't know about the quality of the 'blog since I'm too lazy to read it, but they do have this sub-page dedicated to naked women.

Search:

real wives who want to fuck

Well, if she's a real wife, then she doesn't want to fuck. From what I understand, that part of a woman dies when she gets married. If anyone cares to counter me, I think that BBC news is on.

Fuck you, asshole. I'll pay a 25% tax if someone sets up a site dedicated to sodomizing members of congress. You want money to fight child porn? Why don't you stop rubber-stamping worthless wars and use that money instead? I know, I know, it's not that simple. Well, it should be. Hey, if you want to stop child porn, just put me to work. Between the people who come to my weblog via search engines and the people I talk with on IRC -- many of whom, I'm guessing, have some bad shit on their hard drives -- I can probably be more effective in rounding people up than even Shaq.

My guess, though, is that they won't be too keen to hire someone who they're just waiting for to go and meet with a "girl" he met in a chat room. This would require me, of course, to both go back on my word (something I never do here) and walk into a trap of some sort, but damn, am I lonely. I'm sure the guys in prison will keep me company, though. No, if I went stupid and tried some shit like that, I'd just kill myself. And if I committed suicide, I'd make sure to do it like a man.

In some ways, I wish we could re-wind the 'Net back to 1995, when you actually could meet chicks online. Of course, the 'Net of old I'm talking about wasn't even the Internet, but good ol' BBSes. Hell yeah, motherfuckers, that was where it was at. You could not only meet girls, but you could meet ones that were actually hot. Sure, some (if not all) were kind of crazy, but they were the kind of crazy where they'd just break your heart and ruin your life, not the kind who would literally cut you into pieces and end your life.

Believe me, this is how it was back in the good ol' days. My hook up back then was a BBS called OneNet Boulder. It was via ONB that I met my first girlfriend. You're laughing? I'm not laughing. As alluded to above, she was indeed nuts, but she was also fucking hot. You're probably wanting to call "bullshit!" right now, but I wouldn't bullshit you guys like that. No, I bullshit you people in completely different ways, and you should know by now that I'm not prone to embellishing the details of my love life (or lack thereof, as it would be). If you still don't believe me just ask ETP. He'll back me up on this one, and he has good taste in women since I generally tend to agree with his choices. Oh, and you know that friend I mentioned in the coffee post? Met her the same way. Sure, I saw no hot action out of that relationship, but I did somehow manage to make a friend who has put up with my shit for a decade and still counting. Plus I have a really nice espresso machine now.

Alright, I know what your question is: "This girlfriend you had. You were what, 15 or 16 back then? So what was she, four?" No, shithead, things (both me and the online world) weren't as fucked up back then. You could meet non-killers and non-FBI types who were around your own age. Okay, she was about two years younger than me, but that's nowhere near bad. And if you're thinking that you have figured out some big pieces of Humbert's puzzle with the clues sprinkled throughout this post, you're probably right.

Okay, I've officially had it with all of the artificial drama over the space shuttle. Actually, I'd had it before the bloody thing even lifted off. Every day, it's some new bullshit where they're supposedly freaking out and saying "Oh no! Oh no! Will the shuttle be able to make it back safely? I CAN'T HANDLE THIS PRESSURE!!!!!" If you didn't know better, you really would think that the staff of mission control consists of Tweak and no one else. I'm just waiting for this headline on CNN: "Safety of shuttle's re-entry put in doubt after Discovery astronaut takes a space dump in his pants."

My favorite was last week when NASA "grounded" the shuttle fleet since some debris hit Discovery on lift-off. Because, you know, they were planning on another launch tomorrow, so it really does a lot to make this declaration. Maybe Tweak really is in charge, or maybe it's just bullshit PR.

At this point, I almost don't care if Discovery burns up like Columbia did. Okay, that's not entirely true -- I do have some feelings and sympathy. Feelings of hatred for the media and sympathy for myself, that is. You know the news people are just wetting themselves over the possibility of another shuttle burning up on re-entry. They feed off of this shit, and a "disaster" where all of seven people die is just what they need want at this point.

Look, people. I'm no expert on any of this, but we've had like 114 shuttle launches, and only two shuttles have been lost. We're taking these huge crafts and filling them with fuels whose job it is to launch said craft into outer fucking space. When you consider the risks involved, that's not a bad track record. I know that's no comfort to Challenger or Columbia, but still. Either NASA is decently good at shit, or they're decently lucky. And all this flap about debris and shit sticking out of the shuttle and blah blah blah? That happens with every goddamn shuttle launch, for Christ's fucking sake. It doesn't mean they're always immune from problems, but it doesn't mean certain doom, either. So shut the fuck up already.

That's... Really good coffee.

Pretension has reached new heights. Two weeks ago, I bought a stick of deodorant for $16. Sixteen dollars. For deodorant. Look, I've been struggling with deodorant decisions for months. I simply could not find one I'm happy with. No matter what I tried, everything would leave behind a white, flaky trail. And where would it leave it? Predominantly around the shifter and on the center console of my beloved Bimmer. I don't like it, when there's white flaky shit all over my shifter. So I tried various different brands to no avail. Yes, the car was influencing personal hygiene purchasing decisions. But still, personal hygiene standards had to be maintained. I was not only unhappy with the flaking situation, but I wasn't real thrilled with any of the deodorant scents out there, so I said fuck it; let's just get some Polo deodorant. I, of course, like rolling with The Power of the Horse™. I figured even if it makes a mess, at least I'll smell good. Because I'm going to get laid with green shit that comes out of a bottle.

You know what, though? Even if it's costly, it doesn't even flake off. The Horse is that good. I still don't understand why there are two separate products -- one a deodorant, the other an anti-perspirant. This is confusing since every commercial product has been both deodorant and anti-perspirant; I've never seen it as an either/or proposition. The bottom line is this: if you're willing to shell out good money for stuff, you're going to get fucked on top of it. Ha ha, you dumb fuck! You paid way too much for half a product! This is what the big time is all about.

However, this misadventure in not stinking doesn't compare to today's acquisition. As I said a few weeks back, I've been meaning to get a coffee maker for a long time. I have this friend who has been working at Starbucks since 1927, and I'm always telling her "Let me know when the really good coffee makers you guys sell go on sale." And every time they do go on sale, I'm like "Ehhhh... I really shouldn't be spending the money right now." I still shouldn't be spending the money, especially right now, but like with the deodorant I just said fuck it. And here's why.

Starbucks is phasing out their current top-of-the-line espresso maker, the Digital Italia, and coming out with something new. So the outgoing model is heavily discounted. On top of that, my friend gets a decent discount. So the DI, which sold for $1000, was available to me for less than $300. At that heavy of a discount, it's almost free. How could I pass that up? Especially since I'm not a big coffee drinker?

Well, I'd better be a big coffee drinker now, because I have the goddamn hardware to back up that title. Yes, I have a one-thousand dollar coffee robot sitting in my kitchen. And it is a robot. It grinds its own beans. It clicks and whirrs. It can be programmed. The top of it can be set to heat up in order to keep cups warm. It has a built-in milk steamer.

On top of that, my friend guided me to all sorts of accessories, like a milk thermometer and a milk steaming pitcher, along with all kinds of things like syrups and shit to add to the coffee. I have virtually no food in the house, but I have all kinds of crap for making coffee. Damn, do I ever have my priorities straight. But at least it does make good coffee. Once I got it hooked up, I immediately started testing it. I downed like four espresso shots as I was getting the settings right. A few hours later, I'd had the equivalent of eight espresso shots. One would think that I'd be bouncing off the walls by now, but I'm pretty immune to the effects of caffeine at this point, except under extreme circumstances. If I drink coffee that's too acidic or just too strong, it will upset my stomach. So yeah, I blew $300 for a machine that will make me nauseous. Like I said: priorities.

Back when I was in school, I worked for an optics group. No, we weren't a LensCrafters, I mean optics as in holography and lasers and shit. Anyway, the professor who led our group was a big coffee fanatic. Such a big coffee fanatic that we had a $500 espresso maker in our lab. Some mornings I would go in there, on an empty stomach, and down a double-shot to try and keep myself awake through my operating systems class. The end result being, of course, that I not only still fell asleep in class, but I got mad shakes by late morning and my stomach started eating itself.

The worst, though, was one night when I had put off doing a bunch of assignments, so I had five assignments -- including two papers -- due in the next 24 hours. So I stayed up all night in the Engineering Center in my office, downing espresso after espresso after quadruple espresso to keep awake. I got everything finished, but it wasn't pretty. Sometime around 2 or 3 AM, I was a fucking wreck. I was going out of my mind. Fidgety, unable to think straight, and just generally losing my shit. There have been times where I was blitzed out of my mind on alcohol but still more composed than I was that night on the bean.

The best product of this madness was one of the papers, which was for my bullshit psych class. I didn't care too much about it since it was extra credit, so I treated it as a sort of experiment. Kinda like a crime novel with no punctuation. But really, it was just a bunch of rambling nonsense. For some reason, I was writing about the Columbine massacre. I was ranting and raving, going through my enemies list... To this very day, I'm afraid to find the file and read what I wrote that night. No, I didn't actually lay out a manifesto to kill like Klebold and Harris did (seriously). I mean, I don't think I did, at least. It wasn't intentional if I did; no matter how fucked up I am, I'm not that fucked up, but holy hell did I drink a lot of coffee that night.

Alright, tangent over. But that's it. I'm a fucking moron, but I can make myself my own vanilla bullshit now. Except that I hate vanilla.

Why can't this "fitness for duty" claim be qualified with a written exam -- preferably one with a lot of essay questions, not just a bunch of multiple choice like a psych 101 exam -- as opposed to a purely physical one? Ostensibly the most important job in the world, and all you need is a physical for someone to say "Yup, he's good to go." I'm not saying that physical health isn't important for his position, but c'mon now. Where else can you get away with this? Pretty much just athletes, and we know how smart the general lot of them are.

If something serious really were wrong with Bush, do you think they'd tell us? Of course not -- this isn't the goddamn West Wing. And who really gives a shit what Dumbass's cholesterol level is, anyway?

Since I'm currently on board the Bitter Express on my way to Sad Sack Junction (as if I'm not already living there), I feel even more compelled than I normally would be to link this Diesel Sweeties comic from the past couple of days. Indie Rock Pete is a stupid dickhead (so unlike me), but I think I might have to adopt that slogan as one of my own.

Speaking of comics, there is nothing worse than Cardboard Tube Samurai.

When I first saw this article linked off Slashdot about a supposedly very realistic looking female android that some Japanese researchers had created, my first question, naturally, was what does it/she look like? After clicking over to the article, I'm like, that's not a bad looking robot, but I didn't expect it to look so... Old. On a relative scale, I mean. Seriously.

Anyway, when I read that they had created a life-like female robot, I'm thinking to myself, ten-to-one it looks like a 12-year-old. But once I see the picture, I'm like, what the fuck? This isn't the Japan I know. Look, I don't purport to be in tune with every facet of the Japanese or their culture, but we have a certain... Understanding on things. Especially when it comes to the nerdier element of their society, which robotics people certainly fall under. So the question remained: what the hell is going on here?

Before Repliee Q1, Professor Ishiguro developed Repliee R1 which had the appearance of a five-year-old Japanese girl.

There it is. Not only was one of their creations young-looking, as expected, but they even one-upped me by going into U-10 territory. Bravo! There's still no explanation as to why the second one was post-pubescent, but knowing that the first one looked like a five-year-old more than makes up for my disappointment and disorientation over their latest android.

Okay, I don't normally do this since I feel dirty when I explain the joke (and not a good kind of dirty, either), but you may be wondering what exactly "U-10" refers to. You can probably figure it out, but I'll be nice and help you today. You might also be asking, what, is this some kind of pedophile code? Well, um, basically. When it comes to Japanese models in magazines, photobooks, etc., they have these codes that are used to designate various age groups. The "U" is for "under" -- U-18, under 18, U-15, under 15, etc. Oh, and also, the "U" designation is inclusive, so U-18 (and so on) is both under 18 as well as 18 years old. We all know how good the Japanese are with English. But anyway, there you have it. Now if you're looking at some form of Japanese media involving models of some sort and you see "U-10," you know to quietly back away from it. I mean, unless if that's what you're into.

Alright, so back to the article. When I see things like this, it makes me think that I've missed my true calling in life. Maybe I should have gone into robotics and worked on the kind of stuff that those Japanese guys are working on. I'm probably not smart enough to succeed in the endeavor of creating a life-like female android, but I'd have mad motivation seeing as how I'm going to be alone until the end of time.

I know, I know. "Dude, a robot could never really love you or care for you. It wouldn't have the emotions or the blah blah blah..." Yeah, and how does that differ from how things are and will continue to be? Besides, if I did a good enough job in creating her, I might be able to fool even myself. Hey, I've convinced myself (or tried to convince myself) of some pretty stupid shit, so the idea of a robot being a suitable companion isn't a huge stretch at this point. Hey, not any dumber than acid wash.