Click here please.

A video game survey? Huh?

Evening boys & girls - tiz I - yer old pal Scrub here! Howdy!

OK - so Scrub's way overdue to post. I know. I will.

But, first - here's the scoop. The Kid... he's doing this project, see. For his learnin' institution. A Science Fair project. Nope - it's not a volcano. Not my kid. He's all techno-junkie.

The Kid is doin this project about male vs female. Oh. Ummmm.... wonder where he gets these ideas from?

And, his project is about a topic near and dear to his widdle heart. Video Games.

So - part of his project is some research. And, bein' all techno-junkie and all, he's doing his research in the form of an online poll. Seriously.

Here's the deal... anyone can do this survey. BUT - if you got Scrublings kickin' around your place - have them do the survey. Ideally, the Kid is targeting ages 10-30ish. And, for heaven's sake - pass out these links to absolutely everyone you know. He's gonna run for 2 weeks collecting results, then he's gonna graph himself to death. I'll keep ya posted.

Alrighty - if you are a SCRUB - go to: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/PMP8KD8

If you are a SCRUBETTE - go to: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/PXQHGBZ

Got it? Scrub. Scrubette. Different links. Got it? Kewl.

Ok kids - go git 'em.

Kid needs a good mark. He's gotta get into higher learnin'. Get good grades. Get a good job. Make lotsa money. Take care of his old man.

Ya - it's all about retirement planning on this end.

Quchjaj qoSlIj!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Scrubs & Scrubettes, it's my buddy, The Geek's birthday today!

Hey kids - yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya'll doin?

See him? There he is. My buddy - Geek.

So - here's what we're gonna do. Scrub's gonna list a few items here. The list - well, it's a list that will do two things.

First - the list is going to give you all, m'darlin Scrublings, a bit of insight into why Scrub calls him The Geek.

Second, and here's the fun part of us, every time you see one of the items on the list, you will know that Geek is squealing like a little girl on Christmas morning - giggling with delight. Ready?

1. Quchjaj qoSllj! (Happy Birthday, in Klingon)

2. Star Trek - take your pick

3. BattleStar Galactica

4. 10001 001010 (Happy Birthday, in Binary Code)

5. V - the series

6. "Chevron 1 - locked."

7. Linux

8. 20 Million Candle Power flashlight fights in the fog

9. GPS Trackers on Geek's and Scrubbie's phones - we know where each other is at all times. *Squeal!

10. Floorplans done up before furniture gets moved

11. The Q Continuum

12. Beta verison

13. Finding a website IP address without Web/Command prompt access = Score!

14. 967-1111

15. Big Bang Theory

Lets all just pause for a moment so Geek can collect his thoughts - have a cold shower - calm down.

Alrighty.

So, yes kids - it's Geek's birthday today. I, for one, am happy to call him a pal.

Prepare yourself - Some scenes may not be suitable for younger children.

Dearest Readers,

There are many things in this world that, frankly, are simply wrong.

Yes kids, Scrubbie here at the dinglee-doo this evening.

First, however - no lights purchased today.

Went to the trading post. Alone, I might add. But, it was a zoo. It was a nightmarish, busy as heck, the world-is-coming-to-an-end-tomorrow-so-I-better-buy-the-stuff-today zoo. Oh - nothin that was a smokin' hot bargain either. So, empty handed I returned to the igloo.

Unless somethin changes, it'll be candles this year.

So - things that are wrong.

1. Wars that are fueled by simple disagreements that could be solved by easy compromise or human understanding. Scrub's not one of them smartie-pants that has all the answers. Nope. I'm sure the river runs deeper that what I think. But, seriously - one side wears blue and the other side wants to wear blue too. So they think the solution is strapping bombs to people's bodies and sending them to community gathering spots. Or, they outfit 12 year olds with automatic weapons and tell 'em to go git 'em. It's wrong. Sorry if you're one of them that wants to wear blue, or think that someone else's property line goes through your yard, or that your God is better than the next guy's God. But, seriously - there has to be a better way. What works for Scrubbie is me and the next guy sittin' down over a beer and havin' a chat. It works. Honestly.

2. Parents and Children. This is a rather broad umbrella when it comes to being "wrong". Parents that are abusive to children. Adult children who are abusive to their aging parents. Issues of neglect. Parents who are too selfish to put their children ahead of themselves. Heck - any situation where an adult is taking advantage of a child or vice versa. It's all wrong.

3. Fish

4. Those that don't like Star Trek - incredibly wrong.

5. But, the ultimate in wrong... the pinnacle of wrong... the absolutely, definitively, and most utterly of wrong... I shudder at the very sight of it; cringe when I click the mouse to see it; cry at the thought of it... is...

I mean... seriously!?!

Shhhhh. Please read quietly.

Afternoon kids - tiz I - yer ol pal Scrub.

Yes, it's a Sunday afternoon here in the Great White.

Today, my friends, Scrub must forage. No, not for moose and other varmints for eatin'. No. Foraging today is all about them little lights that Scrub has to put up next week to adorn the igloo for the Christmas holiday season.

Sadly - the last set of lights the ol boy had have died. It was a slow, painful, dim death - but there ya have it. Gone.

So - it's off to the local trading post to see what kinda deals Scrub can score.

And, as ya'll know, Scrub don't much like payin full price for things. It's gotta be on sale and it's gotta be a deal. If it ain't - then Scrub don't buy. Simple as that.

This, of course, has the Wife slightly alarmed. The Wife knows that what will come home could be potentially anything - depending on what's on sale and what is a deal.

She wants to come with me.

That is dangerous. See... Scrub's a pushover when it comes to his darlin' lovie-boo. If she pours on the eyes and uses that voice of hers in just the right way... Scrub can be convinced to buy damn'd near anything. It's not that I dont want her to come. Heavens no. It's just that when Scrub's alone - it's much easier to scope out the good sales. Shop comparatively. Make sound deal-gettin' decisions. Ya know?

There is, of course, a solution to this dilemma. This dilemma of sharing in the joy of selecting pretty twinkly lights that are one of the hallmarks of the Christmas season for us here at the Scrub Shack. The dilemma marrying our desire to have these pretty things shining their happy goodness on glistening new fallen snow - casting auras of green and blue and red across the tundra and of doing all of this while being attentive to pricing and cautious with pennies.

Yes, there is a solution to this dilemma.

Scrub's gonna sneak out and not tell anyone he's going.

The Same Old Song.

5:35 am. Every morning.

Howdy boys and girls - Tiz I... yer old pal Scrub here. Sunday morning.

So - here in Scrub's part of the Great White - we've been treated to some fancy dancy weather. In fact, was so nice yesterday that Scrub rustled up the Kid and we hit the great outdoors. No, No... not for huntin. Not for fishin. (GAWD... not for fishin). No - instead it was a great day to batten down the hatches 'fore the snow starts flyin all permanent like. I tell ya kids - couldn't have been nicer out there.

The Wife had her delicate digits all over Scrub's mouse last night. WOOOOOHOOOOOO! hehe

Seriously though - the Wife commandeered the Toshiba last night and whippped together another digipage. See - there it is. Nice, eh?

That was a pic from when the Kid turned Teen. Just a few weeks ago.

Hey - it was so nice out yesterday, Scrub even

fired up the BBQ and me and the fam had weenies for lunch! Love it - mid November and fire in the pit.

So - 5:35 am. Let me tell you 'bout this nonsense.

The ol internal clock has been going off around 5:30 every day. Seriously. 5:30. And, dont know 'bout you all - but when Scrub's internal clock goes off - pretty much gotta answer the call.

Every morning. Driving me crazy. Get up. Quietly creep around the igloo careful not to wake the Wife and the Kid. Hell - lunatic dog even looks at me with disdain. Kinda the "What the bark are you doin?

Have tried a couple of strategies to deal with it.

Done the warm milk thing. Like drinkin straight from the teat that is. Blech.

Couple of cocktails before bedtime. Nothin. Fun, but didn't help the early morning thing.

BUT - I figured a new strategy. Sort of a negative reinforcement thing. Here's the plan:

*Ding - internal clock goes off. Scrub wakes up. Instead of creeping around the igloo - gonna wake the Wife. Lights on. Blankets off. WAKE UP!

Now - make no mistake. The Wife - she aint a morning gal at the best of times. Nope. Not one little bit. Growly. Grumpy. Confused. Nope, not a morning gal.

If Scrub wakes the Wife at 5:30 - without a diamond ring or Scrappy outing planned - she is gonna be a bear. Big time. She'll be miffed. And, rightly so - will let Scrub know - in no uncertain terms - exactly what she thinks about her hubby wakin her up without a diamond ring to ease the pain or scrappy outing planned. NO UNCERTAIN TERMS.

This, my friends, is not something that I would look forward to. In fact, avoiding such an encounter is the whole reason that I creep around the igloo in an attempt not to awaken the crowd.

BUT - if my brain knows that danger is at the door by wakin up the bear - then perhaps it will keep Scrubbie asleep until a more reasonable hour!

Oh sure - I don't WANT to have to resort to such measures. But, guy's gotta sleep. Right?

I shared this clever plan with the Wife.

The Wife - ummm...less than enthusiastic about the plan.

The plan will not be going into effect.

November 11th.

At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month...

we remember.

Ugh. Fish.

Nasty little buggers.

Hiya boys & girls - it's your old pal Scrubbie.

Gotch'er clickin' finger ready? Ok - CLICK HERE. When you do - you'll be taken back to a posting from - oh, I dunno - a while back anyway. There... you'll learn that Scrubbie - he don't like fish. Go ahead - click away. Just be sure to hit the BACK button or whatever the hell it is up there. I'll wait for ya.

Back? Ok. Read on.

I wont go on and on about the devil spawn. Not again. Suffice to say - eeeeewwwwwww. No. Wait... I should use capital letters. EEEEEEEWWWWWWW. Oh - and an exclamation mark. EEEEEWWWWWWW! More? EEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Better? Good. (always here to oblige ya'll)

You get the idea. Scrub... he don't like fish.

Today, Scrub had a lunch date. OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!

Oh, good heavens - it was a lunch date with a business colleague. All chit chat about marketing and job descriptions and interviews. Nothin' like lunch dates with the Wife when we get googly-eyed at each other over salad and sandwiches. They're much more fun.

Anyway - lunch date. Business colleague.

And - we went to the Mandarin restaurant. Been? It's like this Chinese food buffet that stretches on for a block. Insane. Tasty. But insane. Where else can you chow down on Sweet N Sour chicken balls, onion rings, potato salad and pizza at the same time? Seriously. Where?

So, I get there and a very very polite Kimono wearin' young'en escorts me to a table.

Plunk. There I am. At the table.

Oh - sure... nice table. Clean. Cutlery nicely laid out. Tablecloth.

Very pleasant chap comes over to bring me a glass of H2O. I ask for a Diet Cola with a wedge of lemon. The usual.

Sounds all groovy, don't it?

Well - here is where the horror begins.

I am seated directly beside this big-ass tank of devil spawn. Ooooglie buggers too.

I mean this tank is a mid-wall height to ceiling tank that is clear on both sides and serves as a gal-dang wall 'tween Scrub's eatin' room and the next eatin' room. A WALL! OF DEVIL SPAWN! A WHOLE WALL!

See what I mean? In the pic there? Ugh.

I calls the Wife on one of them newfangled cordless, wireless, magic phones.

"Wife!" I says.

"Hi Boo" she says.

"Wife!" I says. "I am sittin' here at the restaurant beside a gal-dang wall of Devil Spawn. EEEEEWWWWW."

"Well - why don't you move to another table?" she says.

Uh-Oh. Logic.

Logic has been introduced into an otherwise completely scattered, ADHD cluttered, Gemini dual-personality influenced male brain. What the frack?

Heart starts racing. A single bead of sweat glistens off my brow. Damnit. Logic.

"No" I says. "Can't do that" I says.

"Ok. Whatever." she says.

Curses.

See - I am man. There's no moving to another table just 'cause Devil Spawn is ogling me.

No - there'd have to be something pretty serious to alert the staff that I needed to move.

Structural damage to the building that I noticed, perhaps? Structural damage that could potentially cause death? Even that - borders on not being a good reason to move. No. I am stuck there. No getting around it.

Deep breath.

Oops - here comes the colleague. Can't do nothin' about it now.

I stand up. Extend my hand and take firm grip of his. We swap greetings. We sit.

I very carefully turn 17.5 degrees to the right so that Devil Spawn is not in my direct line of vision.

The colleague doesn't notice. Phew.

This, my friends, is how I must endure the next 120 minutes.

Ugh.