Miami Vise

Now, I’m not much of a handyman, because I enjoy having fingers that aren’t broken, and with my level of clumsiness, a broken finger or two would probably be the best case scenario if I were to try my hand at building anything more complex than a Lego Batmobile. That said, I do know that actual handyman types do need devices called vises to hold their…whatever it is they’re working on when they’re working on what they’re working on.

BUT..why and how are there so many different types of vises out there? They really and truly all do the exact same thing (clamp closed to hold the item being worked on in place) in the exact same way (by clamping closed to hold the item being worked on in place). Apart from size variations, how the H-E-double-stuff-Oreo much more to it could there be?

Does the world really need an entire website devoted solely to the sale of vises? Apparently so—I stumbled across one in my insomniac internet investigations. And there are vises as far as the eye can see on said site. I guess I can see the advantage of an automatic vise over a regular hand-crank one—I can’t imagine anyone would complain about a device that makes manual labor easier.

So there’s automatic and manual vises of different sizes. We’ll say extra small through extra large, for the sake of argument. But still, that only gets us up to ten variations on the theme. Why an entire site for what should be less than a dozen products?

Because it’s the internet, so why not, I guess.

Tub of Electronic Components??

The other day, I was at this store that is kind of like a cross between a liquidator and a junk shop. It just has all kinds of crazy stuff. I’ve seen everything in that place from dentist chairs and iron lungs to clip-on ties, pencil gift sets, factory molded doll heads and giant barrels full of monopoly pieces. It is truly a WTF kind of store. That is, my kind of place.

Anyway, so I’m there, just looking around at all the random stuff for sale. Army knives. Industrial magnets. Giant rolls of velcro. Hundreds of etched wine glasses that read, “Congratulations Jenny and Kim” (???). Army surplus berets. And finally… I kid you not, a bathtub full of wires, circuit boards, relays, switches and who knows what else, labeled with a cardboard sign saying, “Surplus Electronic Components $.99/lb. Whole tub for $200.” And, I guess, I mean, who buys that? Who buys electronic components BY THE POUND? Are they even still good? I have no idea. It was just such a WTF thing to see. I don’t even know what to say.

“Aged” Like 21+ Or…?

If you’re like me, you’re a chronic insomniac who writes a dopey blog that maybe four people in the whole world have ever read. Or, if you’re like me in a different way, you enjoy a nice adult beverage every now and again (and again, and again, and again, etc.).

I don’t discriminate when it comes to choosin’ my boozin’—I enjoy beer, wine, and spirits in equal measure. (Not literally in equal measure, though. That would be one horrendous mixed drink.) And, while I do have at least a modicum of good taste, I am by no means an alcohol snob.

In my incessant internet investigation, I came across a guide to aging wine. (It’s kind of huge. Scroll down for the rest of my Weirdohead rant.)

Now, I understand that, in general, the longer wine has been “maturing,” the better it will be when you finally uncork it. But buying a bottle of wine and just stashing it away for X-number of years seems like rather a silly practice to me. In my experience, the best place to age wine is in my belly.

If I want to drink something that’s been sitting around for fifteen years, I’ll buy a bottle of Scotch instead. With Scotch, the distiller does the waiting for you and sells the booze when it’s already aged to perfection. Why wait around for you alcohol to get better when you can buy stuff that’s at its best right stinkin’ now? Though I literally have nothing better to do most of the time, I still have better things to do than sit around and wait to get my drink on.

A Step in the Wrong Direction

Starting with the original, pedal-less velocipede in 1817, bicycles have come a long way. Far from the mostly-wooden “boneshakers” of yore, modern bikes are often made of advanced materials that make them light as a feather, can have upwards of 20 gears, and even include complex suspension systems that allow them to traverse nearly any kind of terrain.

So, when I stumbled across the latest Weirdohead product, I was more than a little befuddled. “You know what would be great,” the inventor of this deconstructed bike-like abomination probably thought at some point, likely while highly intoxicated “let’s take all the stuff that makes bikes fun and easy to ride and just GET RID OF IT!”

This completely counterintuitive “advancement” in bicycle technology, you see, has no pedals. And no seat. Neither of those last two sentences are typos: no pedals, no seat.

Instead of sitting on a seat, one essentially straps the hideous monstrosity to one’s back and kind-of-sort-of hangs off it from a harness. Rather than pedaling, one just pretty much runs and takes the strapped-to-one’s-back bike with one. Watching this mother on video, one realizes that it looks just as stupid as it sounds.

I would, however, like to get my hands on one of these stupid-@$$ things. So I could set it on fire and launch it from a catapult into the river.