Yes, yes, I know… the site’s a mess right now. Half the pages are missing, information has gone rogue and disappeared, some of my pictures have either grown smaller in size or simply pulled out a digital middle finger and gave up the ghost. In short, this site is a huge bag of fail at the moment. But that’s okay, while I toil away in fixing it we can all have a good laugh at my expense.

Anyone who works in any modern office building will tell you that electronic locks are a pretty sweet deal for the most part. No need to deal with keys or waiting for a receptionist to show up to get in the door. No, no. We’re privy to having swipe cards, swipe keys, or nothing at all. And that last category is the one I fall into: I generally don’t need shit to get in or out of the office. Instead, the lock is on a timer. At 6 or so every morning, the doors unlock automagically. At 6 or so every evening, the doors lock automagically. Pretty simple, right?

Not so much. I’m not sure why, but whoever runs the lock system likes to mix things up a bit. Take last Friday for example. Five o’clock rolled around, and we all know how it goes: haul ass for the door. In the process of hauling said ass for said door, I never stopped to consider that the door might actually be locked. The resulting collision was like watching a three-year-old child running as fast as possible, their little legs a blur of motion, and then suddenly not being able to put on the brakes. I didn’t even slow down. I went head first into this door at flat-out speeds, and as I lay on the ground I realized, “Everyone on the planet saw that.” It was a guarantee. Because that’s my luck.

I’m sure up above in the atrium, the guy that runs the lock system was on the ground himself… laughing.

How can anyone go through life being happy with what they’re initially given?! Don’t get me wrong: appreciate it, but don’t settle on what you’ve been given. Work with it. Gain from it, but never settle. Here’s what I don’t get…

The world is a big place, with sights, sounds, tastes and touches that I can’t even begin to describe because I’ve never experienced them. How can anyone go through life without having even left their city? State? Region? Country? I don’t fucking get it. How can people live out their entire lives without going on an adventure?! I know this sounds stupid to some, and I’m no Indiana-Fucking-Jones myself, but the principal still applies: why do some people feel content without having a journey in their life!? Taking a trip is seldom about the destination. Flying half way around the world isn’t something that most people do every day. It’s out of the ordinary. It’s a quest of sorts. And when you come back, even if it was simply to see the Eiffel Tower, experience real French cuisine, and spend a metric fuck-ton of money on bullshit tourist items… it was an adventure. It was memories. At the end we can all lay on our death beds, look at the next generation sitting beside us and say, “Yeah, I did that.” We get one shot at this fucked up life and it seems like all anyone wants to do is stay at home and watch the fucking paint peel off the walls.

For fuck’s sake, people, get out of your poor excuse for a life and go fucking do something with it. Build memories. Visit sights. Try new cuisines. Experience new cultures. Meet new people. Find love. Lose love. Spend money on stupid fucking things. It’s not like you can take that paper with you.

“But Rob, I have no money or means to accomplish this.”

Look, here’s the thing… if you want something bad enough, you have to just fucking do it. Hate your life? Fix it. It’s pretty simple. Ed McMahon is not going to show up on your doorstep tomorrow with a check for ten million dollars. It’s simply not going to happen, so stop waiting for something amazing to happen to you and make something amazing happen to you. Don’t like your job? Go get a new one that makes you glad to wake up in the morning. Don’t like the clothes you wear or the car you drive? Do something about it. Throw away your old ones without a second thought and you’ll suddenly find that you need to go get new ones. Bored? Learn a new language, get a hobby, pick up something constructive. Stop wasting away in front of the television. Watching Discovery Channel does not make you world-educated.

Admittedly, I like television. It’s entertaining. But I also enjoy lots of other things. Traveling is a huge thing for me now. I love it. I can’t wait to get a little money together, a week of vacation and just fly somewhere I’ve never been. Monaco, Japan, Germany, England, Australia… I will have visited all of them before too long. Why? Because life is meant to be interesting. Because Americans aren’t the only people on this planet. Because Illinois is a wasteland lacking culture. Because I want an adventure.

Never settle.

I apologize for the lack of obscenely awesome imagery for this entry, but I’m in the midst of an interesting little side project. Since starting this site, I’ve been unable to create my own “theme,” and instead relied on the awesome WordPress community of developers to provide me something of the eye-candy persuasion. Now, however, I find myself drawn towards breaking out some of the old design skills and going to town on something simple, yet easy to navigate and understand. Hopefully, it’ll be exactly what I want, but knowing myself… probably not. I’m sure I’ll do twenty more versions, ending each one just before completion. How nauseating…

Also, after re-reading some of my earlier work sans MySpace, I’ve found out a couple of interesting facts. The first one is rather sad. It appears I’ve gotten dull lately. Easy enough to fix, really, but it just shows my lack of time to devote to “blogging”. The other one is related, but on a better note. I’ve decided that I’m going to bring over all of my favorite blogs from MySpace and even continue a few entries that I started but never finished. I spent about two hours looking over all of my entries last night and found that I love to hear myself talk, essentially. I also found that most people actually like this kind of behavior as it makes for some rather interesting entries, and thus, not full of epic failure.

See you on the other side.

The picture above is an eyewitness sketch of what I did last night.

“But Rob, I thought you were a software developer…”

By day, yes, I’m a software developer, but by night… I’m a cold-blooded killer. A fearless, heartless mercenary for hire to the highest bidder. I appear out of nothing in the crisp, cold night, ready to take advantage of you when you least expect it. Do I take your wallet and kill you, or leave you cowering in fear at what might have happened, of what I’m capable of doing? So who, or what, am I? No, as close as this was, it wasn’t a description of anyone’s wife or a prostitute. Geez, kids, get your minds out of the gutter. That’s almost as bad as Bruce Wayne trying to tell his latest fling that he’s Batman while suffering a horrible case of Tourette’s and palsy. I’m a ninja! I should probably explain.

About two weeks ago, the BMW decided that it no longer needed the fourteen-year-old fuel pump that resided peacefully in its ass. I know this because the fuel pump spontaneously shat all over itself, resulting in the car not starting. The fuel filter was replaced, the pump relay fired when the key was turned over, and there is no inertia “switch” to trigger under impact. There is an impact relay that kills the fuel pump in an accident, but the car has not had a hard enough impact in the right area to trigger this. It can only be the fuel pump. I know this, the car knows this. We have an understanding. Yet that doesn’t actually help me fix the issue. Aside from which… the real issue is that I no longer live at the house where my beloved Bimmer is parked, and I HATE paying for towing just to have it dragged a mere mile from its origin.

So last night, me and an accomplice daringly risked vehicular impoundment as we used the cover of fog to snatch up the hapless BMW and towed it bravely back to my house; its new home…. where it rightfully belongs.

Oh, and I also robbed a pastry store of delicious treats and punched a small child in the face because he thought my ninja mask was funny. Just kidding. Except about the BMW, and the pastry store, and the small child. I meant those.

Okay, okay, so I just towed my BMW home.

It’s been a long, sad few months for me. Ever since the conclusion of the 2007 Formula 1 season, I’ve been waiting patiently obsessing for more. Through November and the early part of December, it was a wait to see where the nefarious Fernando Alonso would end up. He did, indeed, end up at Renault as I had suspected. In an odd move, Renault boss Flavio Briatore bounced his entire 2007 driver lineup in favor of Alonso and rookie Nelson Piquet, Jr., son of the legendary driver. What’s more is that Alonso only signed the dotted line after getting exactly what he wanted: a three-year deal with an option to leave after 2008 at his discretion. Nevermind the money. If you’re curious, yes, he was paid an exorbitant amount. Too much, if you ask me. The issue here is the utter brashness by which he can lay any claim to optioning out after 2008. There’s only one reason you set something up like that. Are you ready for it? He thinks he has a shot at a Ferrari seat in ‘09. Pack that ego beneath that enormous chin, Fernando, it ain’t happening any time soon, because…

2007 Formula 1 World Drivers Champion, Kimi Raikkonen, has publicly announced that he’s entirely thrilled to be at Ferrari. Despite his prior assertions that he would retire after becoming a world champion, Kimi is returning at least through 2009 to defend his crown. The entire Ferrari organization is thrilled to have him and all accounts suggest that Kimi and his immediate supporting crew get on famously. Ferrari head honcho, Luca Di Montezemolo, has signed Felipe Massa to a three-year extension through 2010. Sorry, Fernando, looks like you won’t have the pleasure of taking Kimi’s ride as you’ll need to wait until he’s retired it appears. The 28-year-old Finnish champion has stated he’s not sure how long he’ll continue to drive in Formula 1, but he sincerely wishes to end his career at Ferrari.

McLaren Mercedes picked up Renault wiz kid Heikki Kovaleinen to partner rookie sensation Lewis Hamilton for the 2008 campaign. I don’t want to say I told you so, but… I told you so. This is obviously, to me anyways, a much better match for McMerc’s lineup than Hamilton and that toolbox Alonso. Oddly, Fernando’s home of Spain is in trouble over recent fan racism directed at Lewis Hamilton during testing at Barcelona. Apparently, when you fire the big-chinned poster child of a country, it’s okay to send out the lynch mobs to hunt for the former teammate of said poster child and make ignorant racist comments. Hilarity ensues. Then the FIA threatens to throw you out of the F1 calendar indefinitely. You’ll need to excuse me if I sound like I’m laughing on the inside. It’s just that it’s so fucking funny to think that Fernando is publicly sucking at life. What goes around comes around, eh, Alonso? Perhaps you should humble yourself, sit back, mind your business, and shut the fuck up.

And in the shameless promotion department, everyone is scared of BMW-Sauber. The German-Swiss team has held their “coming out” party for the F1.08, and by all accounts is miles apart and better from last year’s. The drivers, both resigned from 2007, are being a little over-critical, but that’s why they’re paid the big bucks. As usual, the humble BMW team is looking merely for wins this year. Nick Heidfeld is still the shit. Robert Kubica still gives Chuck Norris nightmares. And as far as I can tell, BMW F1 boss Mario Thiessen is still a fucking genius. End of BMW discussion.

The Australian Grand Prix is a little over sixty days away. I’m not sure if I can bear the pressure. Although it’d be nice, I’m not sure I’ll be making it to Canadian Grand Prix this year. Although I’m quite thankful for Tivo, there’s nothing quite like being there to give you a true feel for the spirit of F1. Coolest projected highlight of 2008? The first-ever Formula 1 night race in Singapore. Fucking. Wootness.