The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

If you could have a super power:

• Space / Time Control: 53%
• Mind Control: 19%
• Ability to fly: 15%
• Invisibility: 15%
• Self Healing: 10%
• Super strength: 3%

By a huge majority, the most popular super power is the abilty to reverse the flow of time. Mind control was the second choice, which is understandable, but I have a hard time believing that you all would be beaming “put down the gun” more often than “take off them pants”.

The ability to fly and invisibility tied for third place, meaning that never getting your junk jostled by the TSA again is on equal footing with an all-access pass to any locker room or bank vault in the world. Maybe I can understand that.

Where I think the results get a little odd is near the bottom. The combined total number of people who wanted self-healing and super strength didn’t match the next level up. Is no one interested in throwing cars or lifting trains with one hand any more? Has brute force fallen from grace as an admirable trait?

More importantly, is the ability to live a corrected, but perfect life through time control more attractive than accumulating and endless list of mistakes that would accompany the immortality of Self-healing?

How did you vote and why?

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Best Holiday Gift Ever

• 2 Girls, 1 Cup: 57%
• A Day With Mr. T: 16%
• An R2-D2 Trashcan: 11%
• Whirled Peas: 10%
• A RL friend [sniff]: 6%

The holidays are over and things are starting to return to normal because I am once again completely and utterly concerned for you people. A full 57% of you think that a couple of naked girls eating crap and throwing up on each other is the best holiday gift ever. You like it better than friends, you like it better than World peace, hell, you even like it more than an R2D2 Trash can. I don’t get it, but I suppose I can accept all that as a matter of personal preference.

What I cannot accept is that you want it more than spending a full day with Mr. T. Do you have any idea how awesome a day with Mr. T would be? Do you? As if having a beard-connected mohawk and saying “I pity the fool” all the time isn’t awesome enough, Mr. T always seems to have a blowtorch on hand, and can make a tank out of almost anything. How can you not think that is awesome?

Here is a velvet painting of Mr. T from my personal collection to make you pity yourselves for your choices. Yes, those are real simulated gold flecks glued around his neck.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Hey What About Beards?

• Two Words: Chuck Norris: 46%
• Macho and sort of hot: 25%
• Ok for the winter: 13%
• I like my men like I like my pets: hairless and obedient: 15%

For once a poll has gone my way and I’m not the least bit worried about you people. 85% of you have some form of affinity for the beard and almost half of you agree that beards are totally kick ass. I’m going to take that as a win for the mountain men, and say that the modern woman is looking for a King Leonidas instead of some hairless pet that’s closer to a lady than a man.

Congratulations, folks. This. Is. SPARTAAAAA!

For those of you who didn’t get a chance to vote (or were voted down), at least you can enjoy some of the wonderful beard shaving creations on my beard page.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Who won Finetune Friday Battle of the Sexes?

• Less talk, more lube : 62%
• Kang (the men): 16%
• Everybody wins: 14%
• Kodos (the women): 8%

You folks don’t really care about these polls, do you? You’re pretty close to thinking that men and women are equals, but if pressed, you think the dudes beat the ladies. In general, you don’t care either way as long as the lube is plentiful and the talk is not.

Congratulations, lubers. After I print up the “Party Naked” t-shirts in your honor, I will coat them in grease before shipping to ensure that they make it to your dungeon lubed up and ready to go.

For those of you who didn’t get a chance to vote, at least you can enjoy all the great playlists that survived the battle. Check my FineTune Friday Page for more info.

The results of the Smokin’ Poll are in:

Are you…

• Buuuuck Naked! : 39%
• A Geek: 25%
• A Nerd: 16%
• A Jock: 11%
• A Dork: 9%

I thought the naked people from the last poll were a fluke, but for the second time in a row, the nudists got the happy ending. I mean that they won the poll. Oh boy. They’re on top? They overcame? Gah. You know what I mean.

Congratulations, nudists. I’m considering printing up a batch of Dyers.org “Party Naked” t-shirts in your honor… Not that you’d wear them.

For rest of you claiming Geek, Nerd, Dork, or Jock status, maybe it’s time you either join the winning team or prove your title by taking the Dyers.org Geek, Nerd, Dork, or Jock Quiz. It even includes handy code to post your results to your web site.

Drop me a comment and tell me where you stood.

I was just joking the other day about when I first came home a few years ago after my so-called “friends” helped my ex-wife move out. We were laughing about how the place was so picked clean that it looked like the Grinch had swept through. So I found it strange that the woman who spent my every dime and last ounce of patience dragging me through a rotten, two year divorce (only to show up to the court hearing pregnant) coincidentally sent me an e-mail wishing me a happy birthday.

She tries to contact me every year or so, so my question is this:

If Satan herself sent you a chummy happy birthday message, would you:
A.) Stock up on holy water and kevlar,
B.) Block her address on yet another account,
C.) Be classy and reply with a “Thank you for the wish, but please try to respect my privacy” e-mail,
D.) Speak your mind, but guarantee a flame war, or
E.) Delete the e-mail and feel badly that it never dawned on you that your ex could probably have competed in the Special Olympics if only you encouraged her more.

I just don’t get it.

Ripped off from Keidra

Four jobs you’ve had in your life:
Lifeguard
Mutual Fund Accountant
Propain pumper
UberNerd

Four movies you could watch over and over:
Amelie
Donnie Darko
Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back
Bad Boys II

Four places you’ve lived:
Inside a bottle,
On stage with the band,
In the middle of an underdog fist fight, and
Staring at molten lava 4 miles from safety,

Four TV shows you love to watch:
Arrested Development
Fear Factor
Family Guy
The Office

Four places you’ve been on vacation:
Sweden
Washington State
Amoeba Records, San Francisco
Hawaii

Four websites you visit (at least) daily:
LifeHacker
Slashdot
Digg
McAfee

Four of your favorite foods:
Duck
Parmigiano Reggiano
Ting Ting Jahe
Brigham’s Big Dig Ice Cream

Four places you’d rather be:
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records
Amoeba Records

Four albums you can’t live without:
Slayer - God Hates Us All
The Haunted - One Kill Wonder
Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Airplane over the Sea
Minor Threat - Complete Discography

I usually finish off my sentence at the gym with legs because they take so much out of me. I had gone through my regular stuff, and had added power presses and dead lifts, so I was beyond tired by the time I got situated under the 450 lbs. I loaded on the leg press rack. I pushed up, unlocked the safety latches and started the set like I normally do. Except this time:

1… 2… 3…. 4… Phhhhbbbbttttt.

Yup. Completely unexpectedly, my colon decided that I was too tired to press the weight myself and shot a blast of malodorous might to help push the weight to the top of the sled.

I think I finished the remaining 8 reps in record time.

If there was a woman within 20 feet, I will guarantee that I would’ve been beet red and stammering, but because it was just meat heads and teenagers, I hope someone at least got a chuckle out of it.

I know I would’ve.

Today, I took the day off to do some Xmas shopping. I drove over 100 miles to 4 different malls to pick up 5 things that I needed. This took approximately 8 hours.

I already have to return 2 things because I consistently forget that the rest of the world is not left-handed.

It cannot be disputed that I was born without a shopping gene.

(I might be coaxed into admitting that shopping could’ve taken a mere 7 hours if I hadn’t spent some time giggling like a dope while clicking headlamps on and off in REI, but I’d you’d have to give up some small secret of your own first.)

In Vietnamese it means “blessing,” and if I ever have kids, I am seriously considering this name for #1Son!.

At this point, laughing is not only culturally insensitive, but ensures that you will have to repeat your corporate sponsored diversity training. And because some of us grew up in an area with one of the largest Asian populations South of Boston, we know that the name is Vietnamese, so the middle names “Ng” and “Yu” are both improbable and unsuitable because they are Chinese.

“Dat”, on the other hand, may be acceptable. And little Phuc Dat Dyer will be trained in so many phuc’in forms of Kung Fu that he will seriously split you in half if you even think about grinning at his kick-ass name. Even if you’re a ninja. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

I have been watching too much Kung Fu. Warn #1GF!.

(Note: It should not be inferred that there is any sort of child on the way. This was spawned by a sign I saw that read, “Reserved for Phuc our new intern. (sic)”)

On the way to the gym, traffic stopped to a halt in the middle of a two lane divided highway. The reason? A woman was trying to get a wild turkey off of the road and was only successful at chasing it around her car. The rest of us, like the non-interactive spectators that America is now famous for, were watching her through our windshields and laughing like crazy.

I got the car serviced all the way up in Medford where the service manager owns an ‘04 EVO. Stock, the car is 276 HP and runs a 13 second quarter mile. He had bumped his to 430 HP and was running an 11. I simply cannot fathom that kind of power.

After that, we headed to check out the freshly opened IKEA store, which seemed to be an unholy union between a Target and a Home Depot. The place is huge and packed with gay dudes and overdressed, New York looking bitches who would run you over if you stood between them and the faintest whiff of a bargain. I’m 6 feet and 2 bills, and these women didn’t even notice me.

The one thing that I can give them credit for, is those Swedes sure know how to make a kid’s room look fun. A parent could really create some seriously cool rooms for their kids on the cheap.

After 4 hours, I ended up snagging a mirror, a red trash can, and a $12 French Press, which I got one cup of coffee out of before breaking. All in all, if you want to go to Target with a major parking problem, head for IKEA. Do it once. You have to at least see it.

On Saturday, I went to a 2 year old’s birthday where the following occurred:

Mom: [to 2 year old] Do you want me to change your diaper?
2YO: No.
Mom: Do you want auntie to do it?
2YO: No.
Mom: Do you want Jooooooonnnniiieeeee to do it?
2YO: [big smile] YES!
Me: No. Auntie. Aun-tie. She said “auntie”.

Then, on Sunday, some friends drove all the way down to the South Shore to have brunch with #1GF! and I. One couple is having a baby and the other is getting married. It’s hard to come up with something comparable to that so I lied about being the new bassist for Metallica. Everyone from the South Shore knows that this is a total lie, because I rejected Metallica’s offer with a hand written note that simply said, “Get fucked, nancies. WarHammer Rules.”

And here I am at the end of a three day weekend looking ahead to a 4 day week.

I’m off today, so no big post. All I can offer is Pandora (via fazed), which is supposed to play songs that are similar to to a song or artist that you like. It’s like musicplasma with sound or Yahoo radio with simpler ratings. It seemed like a good way to find new music, but it didn’t seem to be all that accurate, yet. And giving me 5 songs and then telling me to sign up is irritating.

I’ve been sick all week, and my Barry White/Ton-Loc voice has become more like the guy from the movie trailers. Thus, I have been starting every sentence with “In a world…”

It’s not much trouble to sound like your aunt Grace who smokes a couple packs of Pahliaments a day, either, honey

Now, if I could keep the voice and drop the whole coughing up snails thing…

(Does anyone else realize that Vicks Vapo-rub contains turpentine? It does. I’m breathing turpentine. Blame me not for this post.)

Today, I find myself at the beginning of the first cold that I’ve had in a long time. It has somehow tuned my voice down to an octave typically reserved for Ton-Loc or Mr. Barry White. I can’t seem to say anything without sounding inadvertantly sultry enough that my sentences seem incomplete without “baby” tacked onto the end. Of course I resist this temptation because I’ve read the corporate policy, and I really don’t think that I’m smooth enough to explain to HR just why people keep screaming and throwing their bras at me.

If I could only capitalize on this in print.

Woke up at 3 AM dizzy as if I had the spins. As I don’t drink anymore, it was a really strange feeling. This lasted for about 36 hours until I dumped a bunch of alcohol in my ear and laid on a heating pad. I’m blaming something trapped in my ear throwing everything off.

The last time this happened I had to get a ton of tests and an MRI, all of which turned up nothing.

I’m glad that these episodes are a couple of years apart.

I drove by a billboard that proclaimed, “Use candles with care. Fire Prevention week October 9-15.”

Men don’t light candles, so this one goes out to the ladies. Five years ago, a candle in my house was left unattended for 10 minutes and burned my house in 20.

Total Cost: 2 years and $200,000 USD.
Total Gain: 1 expensive divorce, 1 #1GF!, and some worthy experiences.

Talk is cheap, so here are some pictures.

My clock

my stairs

1600 of my records

And me.

I don’t care what week it is, ladies. Fuck unattended candles.

I have no idea what the hell I ate yesterday, but when I farted in the shower this morning, I actually uttered “OH JESUS!” and ran back and forth from spigot to towel rack in a primal panic trying to escape. I was so blinded by revulsion that there was only a sliver of sanity keeping me from barreling through the shower curtain and onto the floor like some smelly, soaking Frankenstein monster.

The only thread stopping me was the thought of the #1GF! busting through the door fully expecting Armageddon, only to find me ass in the air tangled in a shower curtain staring up at her shocked face. The only words that I could hear myself muttering before she killed me or died laughing were simply, “Sorry. Farted.”

And then as fast as I had been besieged, I was suddenly and miraculously released, returning me to the business of getting 99 and 44/100 percent clean.

Oh, I wasted this day big time. I think I watched 2 episodes of Jerry Springer and that show where they say “you are NOT the father” and the chicks scream and run off stage. The biggest thing that I did was try to get sunglasses from one of those 2 for $20 carts in the mall. I didn’t get any because the foreign girl working the cart kept handing me glasses that made me look more like an ice princess than Ice T. The best that I could do on my own was either “cop” or “Asian gangster.” Where have all the Ice T glasses gone?

Sunday
Today, we got to go see #1GF!’s cute-as-a-button niece who is just crossing the age where children are wary of me. She’s still in that “pick me up and hold me” age where #1GF! is more appealing than climbing on the jungle jon. Soon, she will cross into the age of of “chuck me around the room” where Jon will dominate. Enjoy it now, auntie. The End is neigh.

I then somehow developed a motherfucker of a migraine and spent 4 hours hiding from light and sound, recovering just enough to go to a cookout with some of my friends. Even though I’ve known them for at least 15 years, no one hit me in the nuts once. That shouldn’t have to be counted as a benefit for a cookout, should it?

Friday
We went kayaking with my parents and I accidentally swamped my kayak while goofing off. A dry hold is where you store all the stuff you want to stay dry when you swamp your kayak. The air pocket that it creates also stabilizes the kayak while you get back to normal. When you treat a regular hold like a dry hold, you will have to drag all your wet stuff to shore before you can even think about emptying it out.

Thursday
We went to the beach all day. While walking around…
#1GF!: “Jon!”
Jon: “Huh?”
#1GF!: “You look like you’re going to kick someone’s ass.”
Jon: “Me? [guy sidesteps me] I think it’s just the way my face is.”