Frequent visitors to this site would be hardly surprised to stop by one day and find that I have undeniably slipped below the frozen surface of sanity and began spewing forth posts consisting of nothing more than one word repeated over and over again. The title of this post seems to suggest it, but there is method in my madness, and I assure you I have not yet fallen through the ice.

But I am testing the water.

I know the title (Buffalo et al) sounds silly and nonsensical, a bit like Badger Badger Badger, but it is in fact a wholly sensical statement, if a bit confusing. The lack of punctuation certainly doesn't help and, although the use of capitalization does gives some hints, this phrase employs three meanings for the same word, one of which is fairly uncommon, complicating the parsing further.

For clarification, "Buffalo" is a city in the state of New York, "buffalo" is a (singular and plural) name for the American Bison, and "buffalo" is also a verb meaning confuse, deceive, or intimidate. Armed with this knowledge, the title of this post can be read as: "[Those] buffalo(es) from Buffalo [that are intimidated by] buffalo(es) from Buffalo intimidate buffalo(es) from Buffalo."

Probably won't get you laid if you produce that little pearl whilst chatting someone up at the bar/sock hop/discotheque or wherever it is you hang out, but it might impress your English Professor/Parole Officer/Gynecologist.

The Wikipedia has a list of homophonous phrases like the "Buffalo buffalo..." one, in many different languages. Some others I found interesting:

• "Badgers badgers badger badger badgers." (Badgers that other badgers pester also pester other badgers. Mushroom mushroom.)
• "John, where Bill had had 'had', had had 'had had'; 'had had' had had the teacher's approval."
• Dutch: "Als In Bergen, bergen bergen bergen bergen bergen, bergen bergen bergen bergen bergen." (If in Bergen, heaps of mountains salvage heaps of mountains, then heaps of mountains salvage heaps of mountains.)
• Dutch: "zout zout zout zout zout zout" (Salty salt salts salty salt saltily.)
• French: "Si ton tonton tond ton tonton, ton tonton tondu sera." (If your uncle shaves your uncle, your uncle shaved will be.)
• German: "Wenn hinter Fliegen Fliegen fliegen, fliegen Fliegen Fliegen hinterher" (If flies fly after flies, flies fly behind flies.)
• Latin: "Malo malo malo malo" (I'd rather be in an apple tree than a bad man in adversity.)
• Malay: "Sayang, sayang, sayang sayang sayang. Sayang sayang sayang?" (Darling, I love you. Do you love me?)
• Spanish: "¿Cómo 'cómo como'? ¡Como como como!" (What do you mean 'how do I eat'? I eat how I eat!)
• Marklar: "You see, young marklar. Those marklars don't care about marklar marklar. They just want to take your marklar and marklar their own marklar. The only marklar for this is to marklar." (?)

You learn something new every day.

Following up on yesterday's post, a quick look through YouTube reveals some more work by the beatboxing flautist, Greg Patillo. Watch him perform his funky renditions of the themes from Super Mario Bros., Sesame Street, and the classical piece Peter and the Wolf.

Growing up there was a little cartoon called Inspector Gadget. You may have heard of it. It featured the voice talents of Frank Welker, Maurice LaMarche, Cree Summer, and the man himself, Don Adams. In addition to being one of my favorite toons, it also had a very catchy theme song.

Imagine my delight when I came across a video on YouTube the other day of someone (Greg Patillo) playing the Inspector Gadget theme on the flute, of all things. Amusing, certainly, and no doubt a challenging instrument to perform it on, but what sets this apart from all the other "Look, I can play a bit of pop culture on an unusual instrument"? Perhaps the fact that he is performing it as a remix, providing beatbox accompaniment inbetween musical notes on his woodwind. I am humbled by the awesomeness of this. Added bonus, it segues into another theme you might be familiar with.



And for nostalgia sake, you can watch the original cartoon opening sequence.

Today I had to have a minor recall service performed on my automobile. Knowing full well that nothing involving the servicing of a vehicle is, by law, allowed to take less than one full hour, I come prepared. I hand over the keys and they show me to the waiting area, indicating along the way the intricate process involved in operating the coffee machine.

New fangled, single-cup, pod-based coffee machine. Probably not worth the effort, but I appreciated the tutorial.

I find a chair as (seemingly) isolated as possible and pull out a novel. "Ilium" by Dan Simmons. Not too far into it, yet, but it's an interesting bit of science fiction. Perhaps I'll tell you nice folks about it some time. I begin to read...

Agamemnon is giving his dying brother one hell of a eulogy. I see him cradle Menelaus' head and shoulder in his arms and hear him go on about the terrible vengeance he--Agamemnon--will wreak on the Trojans for the murder of noble Menelaus.

"Wait, wait, wait", grunts Menelaus through gritted teeth. "Did you hear about Britney?"

"Ah, yes," says, Agamemnon. He almost, not quite, sounds disappointed. "And what about Anna Nicole?"

"Who's gonna take care of the babies?" gasps Menelaus.

...I grit my teeth and furrow my brow a little. The ambient level of conversation in the room has risen steadily since I got there and now, clearly, bled over into my reading. It was supposed to be an hour of quiet waiting, but instead I am treated to, ugh, celebrity gossip.

For the next 59 minutes I am forced to listen to a handful of, let's say, past-middle-aged people prattling on about Britney, Lindsay, and of course, Anna Nicole. I tried to bury myself in my book but I have very little tolerance for outside noise when I'm reading--I tend to have trouble blocking it out. So, instead of pondering over the Trojan War taking place on the surface of Mars in the distant future, I am instead trying to figure out if it's possible that Menelaus could have cheated on Helen and had a love child with Anna Nicole before Paris had her killed. Or, something.

Needless to say, it wasn't long before I was begging a mechanic to shove a screwdriver through my eardrums (or temples, you know, whatever works). Fortunately I am "saved by the bell" (sans Screech) as it were, and I leap out of my seat in the waiting area so fast you might have thought my ass was on fire (which is wasn't, because today is not Taco Day). I have no doubt that I will have to go back and reread the chapter I started. I'm pretty sure there were plenty of spears in the ranks of Greeks, just none of them a crazy, bald pop diva.

Well, except maybe Ajax.

Oh my!

In Ohio, there are apparently two ways of dealing with the Winter weather. You can bundle up, steel yourself against the frigid cold and whipping wind that endeavors to freeze your very soul, and face the challenge head on (likely with shovel in hand). Or you can close your eyes and pretend it's not snowing.

Guess which tactic this guy chose?

That's a snapshot from the parking lot of my apartment complex. It actually had a bit more snow on it before the sun came out. The car has been in the spot for at least a week, if not longer (I only took notice when it started getting buried). The owner either has a second vehicle, is a shut in, or has died. Hopefully it's the former.

I would be remiss if I didn't let you know how others dealt with yesterday.

Tycho and Gabe at Penny Arcade discussed the quandary of finding the right gift.

The space-themed MMORPG Eve Online had an interesting greeting for players.

Perry Bible Fellowship illustrated the endless regret that is the wishing well.

xkcd made a simple statement about love.

The Teen Girl Squad as penned by Strong Bad as penned by The Brothers Chaps celebrated Vamlumtimes Day.

Miss Veronica Belmont (of CNET Buzz Out Loud fame) lamented the holiday for making her choose between her boyfriend and World of Warcraft, providing a point by point comparison of the two. Ryan Block of Engadget reciprocated.

Joe over at the Hairshirt Blog divined our horoscopes, letting me know I wasn't fooling anyone with my "homemade Big Macs".

Ze Frank shared his thoughts (from a few years ago) on the history and celebration of the day.

Finally, Comic Vine produced an awesome Super Hero Dating Quiz for those of us wondering who our ideal Super-mate might be and, no surprise, mine was the redheaded girl next door, Miss Mary Jane Watson-Katonian, er, -Parker.

Today is Valentine's Day or as I like to call it, Wednesday.

Valentine's Day is totally condescending to singles, and I'm not going to take it anymore! I say it is biased against the relatonshiply-challenged! I propose a new day, a Singles Day, to celebrate the beauty of bachelorhood! Instead of the expensive boxes of gourmet chocolates, it will have single-serving pudding cups. In the place of teddy bears and flowers, we'll buy ourselves magazines and new-car-scented air fresheners. The traditional expensive dinner with lobster and champagne will be simpler fare: a box of Stouffer's Macaroni and Cheese and whatever beer is left in the fridge. There will be no cards, no candygrams, no cutesy nonsense. That's time that could be spent playing video games, taking naps, or watching pornography. If you really must get something for the single person in your life, gift cards for steakhouses or discounts on tires will be acceptable. No one will ever feel disappointed on this new, glorious holiday. There will be no pressure to "put out" and no question as to whether or no you're gonna "get some". You see, everyone gets laid on Singles Day... at least in a manner of speaking.

Write your local congressperson. Let's make this happen, people.

And so, I say, "Fuck You, Valentine's Day!" Clearly, I'm not alone:

• Einstein hated Valentine's Day.
• Cupid is as good as dead.
• Forget teddy bears, this sums up your feelings nicely.
• Candy hearts are windows into the soul.
• Hallmark needs to consider this design.
• I don't usually use holiday-themed wallpaper, but I might make an exception.

So, who wants to be my Blog Valentine this year? Or at least my Anti-Valentine?

Monday is here again, I see. Whilst I plod away with the new WITFITS template I'm working on (ETA: June 20X6) why not enjoy something from YouTube. Anything will do. How about this: A Jazz Orchestra Plays The Family Guy Theme.

Enjoy the extended theme goodness.

I went to the Cleveland Clinic today to have an asthma test done. It was an interesting experience and not altogether unpleasant. The test required no drawing of blood or inserting of objects into orifices clearly marked as exits, so it was the good kinda test in my book.

The procedure itself was rather interesting. The patient takes a few deep breaths into a tube to measure lung response. They then inhale (from another tube) a chemical that (may) trigger an asthmatic response. The lung response is tested again, and the whole process is repeated several times. The results of the reaction to the substance indicate the presence and severity of the asthma.

Each time they do the lung response, the technician is looking for "two good exhales" for an accurate reading. After doing this several times, we both sorta fell into a rhythm, and my mind began to wander. I started to think about what I must look like with this thing (about the gauge of a toilet-paper tube) jammed in my mouth as I sucked/blew on it as hard as possible. I realized that I was sitting there fellating some strange machine while another guy was mere feet away, looking on with interest. I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Besides, don't people usually get paid for this kind of thing?

Apparently my distraction was showing in the test results. "That wasn't a very good one. Try again," said the technician.

"Oh, sorry," I replied, returning to reality. "I was thinking about how... uh, rather, my mind was elsewhere."

For new readers, or current ones who just fail to notice detail, WITFITS is run out of the great state of Ohio. The Buckeye State. The Heart of it All. The Rock and Roll Capital of the World. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. The weather is as fickle here as in any northern state, with blistering summers and bone-chilling winters. It's a very bi-polar state of being: it seems we don't have Spring or Fall, you just wake up one morning and the barbecue grill you were using last night to cook your Johnsonville Brats is now covered in a foot of snow. This year was a little different, though.

The beginning of Winter was unusually mild for us, a phenomenon I revelled in for as long as humanly possible. In December there was hardly a hint of snow, the sun blessing us with blissful 40 and 50 degree days which, Northerners will agree, is downright "balmy". I began to think about Al Gore's documentary and his trip across America. Inconvenient Truth my ass! I mean, yea, climate change is real, no doubt about that, but Inconvenient Truth? I spent Christmas in a t-shirt and shorts. Global Warming rules!

Then the New Year came.

Mother Nature woke up from her nap, Nyquil-induced stupor, yearly Bridge game, or whatever was keeping her, and dropped the hammer. "I've let them off too easy," she said, stroking her pet Polar Bear, Mr. Icy Pants. "How about we turn it down a notch? BAM!"

Sorry, it's near lunch and sometimes food celebrities manipulate my thoughts.

This weekend I watched my digital thermometer plummet into single digits. 5 degrees... 4... 3... 2... 1 and a half... 2. "Hey, it's warming up out there!" I said aloud to no one in particular. Then I caught something out of the corner of my eye--a symbol I had never seen on the display before. It was a minus sign. A goddamn minus sign. If I was still a student I would have probably jumped in the air and clicked my heels (many schools here are closed right now because of the low temps--apparently kids can get frostbite, who knew?) but "Snow Days" are few and far between as an adult. And I had yet to take out the trash. Let me just say, it's hard to steel yourself against -10 degree windchill. When I had finished my three trips to the dumpster, I was a Kato-cicle. I think it took an hour for me to defrost. Even my teeth were cold.

To sum it up: the conditions outside are ridiculous and, honestly, my balls can't take it. I suspect they have retreated back into my body cavity where it's safe and warm. I woke up the other day to find them absent, a Post-It note st