HolographicMeatloaf.com :: Dave’s Blog

People around the office are roaming aimlessly, eyes glazed over.

Cubicles that would once echo with the sound of people chatting have been replaced with people quietly working.

There’s definitely a feeling of hopelessness around there. And it really sucks.

I get the feeling that it won’t be three years before things start happening. I don’t even give it one year.

Quite possibly.

Since Blogger’s merger with Google, I’ve found that I cannot personalize the templates the way I used to. And being I’m not entirely familiar with CSSs and whatnot, I’ve decided to take up temporary residence at WordPress.

So far I like it better. I can even personalize my header with my own photographs without coding. Just a few seconds in Photoshop to crop it, upload it and there you go.

Stay tuned. I may be moving for good–soon.

You ever stop to think about the way things might have been? I try not to but this situation in particular made me laugh. And it all has to do with names.

First of all, you all know my name is Dave. That’s been established. But being that I was born on Valentine’s Day, it was my Nana’s suggestion that I be named Valentin.

Oh, just you wait. It gets better.

When my father migrated from Mexico to the U.S., his real last name was Caballero (he changed it soon afterwards). So put those two things together and you get…

Valentin Caballero. Yes, that could have been my name.

You can stop laughing now. Seriously

Click on image for proof!

Let it be known to all that the morning show of Jamie, Jack and Stench is no more. It’s not like I listened to the show or anything (although I did try once). I’m just glad to see three more talentless radio hacks off the air.

I mean, really. How many times does Jamie have to scream and yell over her private parts? Oh, and I’m really happy that Bill Handel did what he did to her. She’s a loudmouthed, arrogant primadonna who polluted L.A.’s airwaves with nonsensical ramblings only those with IQs below 1 could appreciate. As Handel himself told Jamie during his on-air rant, “It’s a loser show with loser ratings.”

You won’t get the real dirt anywhere else, so here’s the newsletter my brother sent me:

(January 4, 2007) KYSR, a station that has struggled with its image over the years, is beginning the New Year with a new, personality driven morning show that will complement the recently inaugurated theme of “Today’s Music Alternative.” STAR 98.7 has taken a significant ratings slide in recent years.

Did last month’s encounter between KFI’s Bill Handel and KYSR’s Jamie White on December 15 have anything to do with the decision to drop the morning show? Ashlock claims the decision had absolutely nothing to do with the Handel incident. “Jamie, Jack & Stench did nothing wrong. I’m sure people will try to tie the two events together because it’s more sensational. But, it’s just not true. The decision to move in a different direction with Star mornings was made weeks in advance as we went through the budget process, evaluated our options and decided to move in a direction that better complemented the rest of the station.”

Good riddance, and good on Bill Handel.

*checks date of last post*

*checks today’s date*

Hey, hi there! Holy crap, it’s been a long time. My time is now at a premium since my days are so much longer than they were before, and I hardly spend any time online anymore.

But that’s going to change I think.

I’m planning on taking at least one night a week–after everybody has nodded off–to update this blog of mine. It’s just a plan but we’ll see how it goes. And trust me, there’s lots to talk about!

Keep an eye on this place. Fresh posts and pics will soon follow!

If it’s not to late, I’d like to nominate my wife for Quote of the Year, which just happened to be the title of today’s blog entry. Her quote couldn’t have fit the time or place more perfectly than it did yesterday.

It was then when we decided to head on over to the Orange County Marketplace, better known to us as the Orange County swap meet. The swap meet takes place on the same property as the Orange County Fairgrounds which, when the fair is over, is home to many other events throughout the year.

When we arrived at the fairgrounds we were greeted by a large amount of traffic, but not just ordinary traffic. A majority of the vehicles were shiny Ford or Chevy trucks lifted at least five feet off the ground with gigantic off-road tires. Okay, maybe the five feet is a slight exaggeration, but they were all off the ground high enough to where one could easily squat underneath.

As we pulled into the lot, we figured out why there were so many I-need-to-compensate-for-my-tiny-manhood trucks in the area. A sign that read “Sand and Sea Expo” or something to that effect was posted at the entrance, and that’s where all these guys with wives/girlfriends whose skin looked like beef jerky were headed.

Not only did all of their trucks look alike in terms of J.C. Whitney aftermarket accessories that included cold-air intakes and trailer hitch covers embedded with beer bottle openers or had “Remove for River” emblazoned across them, all the guys themselves looked the same: not exactly in shape and wearing some sort of t-shirt or tank top with a speed shop graphic on the back, shorts, flip-flops, shoulder hair, and close-to-the-skull haircuts. In short, they looked like a crowd whose philosophy on life could have easily been adopted from a display at their local Big Dogs store.

Additionally, none of these fuckers could drive if their life depended on it as at least three of them almost ran us over in the parking lot.

And that, my friends, is when Ann blurted out this verbal gem, and my vote for Quote of the Year:

“All these guys look like dicks,” she calmly spouted as the last asshole in a lifted Nissan Titan nearly smacked into Anthony’s stroller. The driver waved apologetically. We kept walking without acknowledging him.

I began laughing at what she said and as I tried to re-gain my composure while taking Ann’s quote into consideration, upon further review by inspecting each and every passing couple heading into the expo, I couldn’t help but notice something–she was absolutely right. It was like some strange fraternity of mid-life crisis sufferers joining forces with 20-somethings struggling so badly for acceptance and identity that this was all they could find, and the one thing they had in common was drinking their collective ass off at the river.

And when I really think about it, I’m surprised we were allowed entry into the parking lot since 1) we were driving an SUV not a truck, and 2) it was absent of a trailer hitch with a funny cover.

But what matters most is we had a good time at the swap meet, despite the presence of guys formed from the giant dick-mold and their significant others with body parts made of plastic.