Frenchy's Rant

Well, I’m off riding somewhere… Probably in Connecti-flaart by now, my new friend by my side… or someplace… Check the SPOT tracking link for exact coordinates if you really care. The ride story will be posted here soon as I write it, and it should be a good one, much better than the fluffinutter that is this post.

In the meantime, I have another insatiable craving to confess to. Yes, I’m not only addicted to Bejeweled, I’ve got another need. No, it’s not motorcycles, either, that habit is pretty obvious I think. My other other addiction?

Drums.

That’s right, I have a drum dependency. Need proof? Look!

My Dumbset

The Dummy Behind The Dumbset

I can’t help myself. Before there’s an intervention, I’m actually off to find a Drummer’s Anonymous meeting right now. Less fluff posts coming soon.

Heading out in the morning for another adventure, this time riding to Washington DC and Hershey. It’s the start of a multi-part ride, the details of which are so mind numbingly complex that I’ll save them for the inevitable yawn-inspiring ride reports. Suffice to say that sometime in September, Rain Cloud Follows and I will end up back in sunny California, if all goes as planned.

Fiona will be joining me next week in Baltimore for Part Deux of this long, strange trip. Abi will be meeting me in Knoxville for Part Trois (Anybody know French? Is that right? Trois? I can’t remember from high school French class… that’s right… Frenchy doesn’t speak French. Go figure!) Anyway, what all this means is tomorrow I will be hopping on Rain Cloud Follows and aiming for our nation’s capitol. I would be making this trip alone, but at the last minute, I found a friend that graciously decided to come along for the ride. It’s his first long ride, so we’ll all find out how that goes together.

If anyone cares, I will have the SPOT tracker activated, so that Big Brother, the CIA, and even the Faithful Fifteen can track me and my new friend as we roll down to DC. Here is the SPOT Tracker link if you honestly have nothing better to do.

Since Dark Meat Snack – the lighthouse hater – won’t be annoying me and pouting this time, I plan to stop at a bunch of lighthouses in Connecticut, New Jersey and Maryland on the way. That is, if my new friend is up for it. I think he will be.

Pictures, lies, fictional updates and other moronic drivel will be posted as time and free internet access allows.

Check out Dark Meat Snack, one half of the musical sensation The Cardboard Warriors, in the new WWE backstage audio uniform.

Actually, he found some gaff tape in the same colors as stage manager Warren’s shirt and for the rest of the day Abi was Warren’s Dark Meat Shadow. Yes, he is at ‘work.’ But this temporary insanity is understandable. We all tend to lose our collective minds on the third day of a Pay-Per-View week.

What would you do if Vince McMahon pulled up next to you in his $250,000 (or more) Bentley, nodded, smiled his trademark madman smile and said, “You wanna take it for a ride?”

Realizing that this car costs more than a house, the arena he pulled into is in the middle of Long Island where the roads are terrible and the drivers are worse, not to mention the man that owns the car, while a madman, is also the boss – realizing all this, most people would politely decline. Those people have what is called common sense. Me? I’ve never been accused of having any sense at all. Besides, how many opportunities come up in life to drive a car worth more than a house?

“Sure, Boss, I’ll take it for a spin. Love to! It’s insured, right?”

Wow.

What else can be said about driving something so close to perfection?? Smooth, responsive and f-a-s-t, with a deep twelve cylinder engine purr that rapidly turns into a throaty roar, this thing was awesome, by far the most incredible machine I’ve even driven. Once I slid the seat all the way forward so my short legs could reach the pedals that is. That, and figured out how to shift using the shifter paddles located right behind the steering wheel. And start it using the gold trimmed starter button. Once all that stuff was figured out, it truly was exciting. Even better than my Jeep!

Needless to say my heart was thumping through my chest the entire drive, but man, what a blast! I made sure to chirp the tires as I peeled out onto the mean streets of Long Island. (Actually, that’s not true at all, I barely touched the accelerator, and the car peeled out all on it’s own.) I cruised around the arena, enjoying the looks I got from other people as I passed them in ‘my’ quarter million dollar vehicle, and enjoying the way this machine handled, accelerated and stopped on a dime. I want one!

Vince said he’d been stopped on the way to the Nassau Coliseum doing 94 MPH. I can see how, because as I found out, just touching the accelerator ever so gently makes the car rocket forward like a missile. And the cockpit, decked out in mahogany and plush leather is so smooth and quiet, it really doesn’t feel like you are speeding at all, even at 95 MPH. Not that I know that for a fact or anything…

Of course, Vince McMahon probably gets out of trouble with an autograph and a picture. Me, I’d probably go to jail for grand theft auto. Either that, or I’ll get fired for not remembering to push the seat back for him.

It starts off innocently enough. Maybe you get it from a friend, maybe it’s a ‘free trial’, or maybe you just go out and buy it yourself. However it happens, you get it. Then you try it once and think to yourself, ‘Hey, self, that’s not too bad. It’s fun, and there’s no harm in having a little fun now is there? What’s the big deal?’ That’s how it starts.

It continues, but still, it’s no big deal. You find yourself doing it a little bit more than before, needing a little more and a little more to get that same feeling. But still you think, ‘It’s OK, self. Just one more time. I can quit anytime I want.’ But you don’t want to quit, so you don’t. It feels good, and it’s still harmless fun. Besides, quitting is… well… quitting is for quitters, and you’re no quitter.

The hook is set, and though you can’t see it happening, the inevitable downward spiral has started. You find yourself putting off things, important things like work, paying bills, eating and even updating your silly little blog. You tell yourself these things; work, the bills, food, the Faithful Fifteen, can all wait – you’ll get around to them. But you don’t. It takes up more and more of your day, as it slowly takes over your mind. When the phone rings, you ignore it. Every time. You block out any and all interruptions, and the scary thing is, blocking out those interruptions is surprisingly easy. It’s in control now. Though you don’t realize it, you’re already a slave to it, even though you still manage to deny it has you in its grasp. You think to yourself, ‘This may be a bit out of control now, but it’s still OK. Just one more time. I can still stop if I really want to.’ You lie to yourself to keep your sanity.

But even your sanity is slipping away. Every though revolves around it. During the day, you find yourself sneaking off for one more quick hit. At night you have dreams about it. You’re becoming more and more antisocial, and are rapidly tuning out reality. It’s constantly on your mind. It has become your new reality. Just one more time, though it’s not even fun anymore. You continue to tell yourself you can quit at any time, but even you know that’s no longer true. You can’t stop, you just need your next fix. This demon has taken over your life.

Let this serve as a warning. Don’t let it happen to you.

Thankfully I realized what was happening to me before it was too late. And with that realization there is one horrible truth I have to face. There’s only one person I can blame for this ugly mess I’ve gotten myself in.

Steve Jobs.

For making the game Bejewled available on the iPhone.

I just hope Bejeweled isn’t a gateway to even worse things, like the Wii.