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Dizzying Intellect » 2008» July

The Key Word Here is “Concealed”

Time for another poll. As mentioned, I’ll be getting my CCW license soon, and I obviously can’t carry my Glock.

I was window shopping at the range last weekend, and two caught my eye. The owner carries a Kel-Tec P-3AT (among other things), which is a .380. That seems a little low in caliber to me, but I also trust his judgment. It has a nifty laser sight in the grip that I would also get, if I pick this one. It’s tiny, and thin, which are major selling points. I’ve heard good and bad personal reviews about Kel-Tec, though.

The other one I liked, which is pretty much the opposite end of the spectrum, was the Walther PPS 9mm. It’s twice the price of the Kel-Tec, and it’s not much bigger or thicker, but it’s more than twice the weight. And, well, it’s 9mm, which is the smallest caliber that I’m really familiar with, to the point of trusting in a pinch. It’s much prettier, and something about the magazine release is so elegant to me. (Seriously, click the larger view link and look how pretty it is.)

Opinions? Feel free to make alternate suggestions, but no .22s and nothing that can’t be concealed ON A GIRL, in the summer. Think tighter clothes (but not tight, pervs) and no suit jacket.


Jaysus, this blog needs cheering up. Here’s a fearless turtle and a cute, highly bemused kitty.


Different Problems

Ugh. I hate this city.

The victim and a friend were walking down New Florissant Road near spring, when they were stopped by two young men, one armed with a gun.

One of the girls immediately ran and got away the other was shot in the chest and left for dead.

That was 15-year-old Carlle Garofalo, an honor student at McClure North High School.

The victim is in critical condition at a local hospital and family members say they are coping the best they can.

The suspect is believed to be between 16 and 18 years old and he was driving a green or dark colored 1993-1997 model of the Pontiac Firebird with tinted windows.

Look at this adorable young girl. I know the ‘adorable’ shouldn’t matter, but I work with her mom, and even though we aren’t friends, for some reason it pisses me off more than normal.

How does a 16-18 year old kid end up shooting a 15-year old girl in the chest and leaving her for dead on the street? I just don’t get it. But I hate this city.

The Grim Post

You knew this was coming. I’m not depressed, I’m actually looking for some fairly clinical answers — they just happen to be personal-life-based and not cheerful.

My Uncle Rich died this weekend — of cancer, natch; that’s how we roll in my family. I knew him better when I was a kid, because his daughters and I were pretty close. All of my uncles were pretty strict and grumpy when we were kids, until they had grandkids and turned into giant marshmallows, so even when I “knew him,” I didn’t really know him.

As I got older, he became more interesting. He joined the fire department as soon as he was old enough (probably before, knowing him) and was sort of a heroic character, and he looked like a Dick Tracy villain to me — and I mean that in a good way.

He always wore his hair in a pompadour, and it was jet black. Herein lies the trouble.

When he was first diagnosed and started chemo, he and his wife went out and bought him a specially-made wig. A jet-black pompadour, for after he lost his hair. But, see, he never lost his hair. And the chemo didn’t work. I’ve never heard of chemo not working on a non-metastasized tumor. And I’ve certainly never heard of full-dosage, systemic chemo not making someone lose their hair.

[Note: My father has carcinoid cancer, and he didn't lose his hair during chemo, but that was a very unusual kind, where they emulsified it and injected it straight into his liver. It wasn't systemic.]

My cousin Linda, who’s only a few years older than me, also has (breast) cancer. Again, it’s our thing. But she’s not losing her hair in chemo so far, either, and her mom — my Aunt Hamako — thinks it means the chemo isn’t working. And she’s starting to make me wonder, really.

With this blog not being crawled, I’m not sure how much answer I’ll get on this. And I know the plural of “anecdote” isn’t “data.” But y’all are a smart bunch. Have you heard of any connection between the efficiency of chemo, and hair loss?

Blah Results

So, G’s DNA results came back.


I ended up going with this company, which uses a cheek swab, instead of Wisdom Panel, which uses blood — against my best wishes and judgment — because my vet’s a slacker.

It’s not entirely his fault. I could’ve fought harder. Grr.

So the analysis is broken into Primary, Secondary, and “In the mix.” The definitions are pretty obvious, I think. We ended up with:

Primary: [Nothing]
Secondary: German Shepherd
In The Mix: Siberian Husky, Pembroke Welsh Corgi

Um. Yeah.

First of all, no primary at all? Second, I could maybe see where there might be a little German Shepherd in there. But he has no trace of Husky personality — i.e. escape artist — and is actually fairly agorophobic. And Corgi? Come on. A 100+ pound corgi?

I’m calling this cross-contamination. How do you really not find Saint Bernard in this?


The only thing I can think is maybe there’s another giant breed that looks like a Saint, but is rare enough to not be listed. (But then why would she be whoring around with the neighborhood mutt?) Pyrenees and Leonberger are listed, which I’ve considered before, and any others of that size and coloration are unknown to me.

So, probably stupidly, I’m going to try the blood test. It’s only money, right? Now I have to know, and now you can order the test yourself, and take it to the vet, instead of relying on his lazy ass to order it for you…


Look! Two cute baby moose (mooses? meese?) playing in a sprinkler!

I know, banal. (But cute!) When I do start writing what’s in my head right now, it’s going to be depressing and grim, so enjoy the cute while it lasts.


I think we all know that I have rather… strong opinions about men, right? How real men act, and live, and treat others? What makes them so amazing and so horribly rare?

I’ve had my ipod cranked all morning today, which I don’t often do at work because it distracts me, because I need to drown out someone who will not. shut. up. This song came on, and it’s always funny to me how it says exactly what I’m “looking for” in a man — to the extent that I’m looking, which is to say, not at all — even though it doesn’t really say anything at all.

Maybe it’s just where I want to get myself back to.

I only have half a dozen country songs on my ipod. It’s not my thing. And I know, it’s the Dixie Chicks. My general dislike for the genre and the band (Why, Nathan Petrelli? Why?!) is completely washed by how much I love this song. (Unofficial video linked because Natalie Maines is just odd looking, and even worse in a pink bra.)

Lyrics? Dementia?

Anyone know what “Hey hey, whatta ya say, I got a woman, she got away” is from? I tried googling it and got nothing.

These things drive me crazy.

Probably The Only Way

Get Drunk And Vote 4 McCain

Maybe I should get that bottle of Nasturtium vodka started…


1. The deck of cards with a joker included (53 cards) came to the US with Chinese immigrants, and it’s called “Pai Gao.” I can’t believe I’ve never heard that before now.

2. When I’m king, I’ll require any grocery store that sells individual bagels to also sell those little one-use packets of cream cheese.

3. I’ve been meaning to try making limoncello, but I recently read about a woman who makes Nasturtium vodka. I’m not a big flower eater (don’t like roses, loathe violets) but I love Nasturtiums, and they’re super easy to grow from seeds.

4. Wachovia’s apparently being probed for some kind of mismanagement. They just bought out my old 401k. This week’s getting better and better. Athough, it’s not like I was ever planning on retiring, anyway.

5. I haven’t been canned yet. (Yet.) I want to talk about it, but I’m not getting dooced for the sake of you guys. No offense. I’m starting to take notes, for after, because it’s really… uncomfortable. (And thanks for the votes of confidence in emails. I’m not worried about being fired personally, I’m worried about my whole department disappearing.)

6. For those following along at home, we spent Tuesday in Columbia again, and the Cushing’s test came back negative. So G’s just on meds for his kidneys right now, to try and cut down on the necessary bits he’s losing.

7. Incidentally, I don’t think I blogged this, and you can consider it an (unpaid) product recommendation — I switched G from Nutro to Blue, because he’s got to gain some weight. He was down to 100 pounds, which still makes me want to cry. It’s amazing stuff. Check these ingredients!