M: Aw man, Yoda’s dying. Hey, if you were there when Yoda died, would you eat him? E: No! M: But what if eating Yoda gives you the Force? It’s worth a try, right? E: Gross! M: I really [...]]]> While watching Return of the Jedi with the 4 year-old, we had this conversation:

M: Aw man, Yoda’s dying. Hey, if you were there when Yoda died, would you eat him?
E: No!
M: But what if eating Yoda gives you the Force? It’s worth a try, right?
E: Gross!
M: I really think you should consider it. Might be your only chance to be a Jedi.
E: OK.
M: Oh wow, he’s gone. Luke ate him fast.

Oh sure, like you wouldn’t eat Yoda if it would make you a Jedi.

Mucus Plug

This experience has changed me. I know that I will never be the same. [...]]]> I’m not particularly squeamish about most things. I’ve cleaned up puke, changed diapers, and seen various animals slaughtered, cleaned, and converted into food. However, there’s one phrase I really could have gone my whole life without learning.

Mucus Plug

This experience has changed me. I know that I will never be the same. It is my own personal Omaha Beach, as sad as that is. I feel like I’m ready for anything now.

But I’m mainly just ready to not hear that phrase again.

I’m sleeping in on Monday.

Nope, there’s not an untrue statement in the above sentence. A couple of weeks ago, I attended a family reunion at Lake LBJ. It ran from Thursday to Sunday, but Manda and I didn’t show up until Friday. [...]]]> It’s just not a family reunion without a beating, stabbing, slashed tires, and an (alleged) molestation.

Nope, there’s not an untrue statement in the above sentence. A couple of weeks ago, I attended a family reunion at Lake LBJ. It ran from Thursday to Sunday, but Manda and I didn’t show up until Friday. By then, three of the four offenses had already been committed.

On Thursday night, a couple of my younger cousins, we’ll call them Harry and Lloyd, decided to get their drank on. Despite it being well known that Harry doesn’t handle hard liquor all that well, Lloyd decided to shame him into drinking whiskey. He was successful in that endeavor, but the end result was Harry poking him in the side with a hunting knife. Ah, youth. It’s wasted on the dumb.

Lloyd didn’t take this lying down, or even thrashing around wildly with a superficial stab wound. He (and his three friends) proceeded to lay a beatdown on poor Harry. Duly chastened, Harry departed, but not before he slashed all four of Lloyd’s tires with the aforementioned hunting knife. And thus ends day 1 of the family reunion.

On Friday, Manda and I made our appearance. All was quiet, and past offenses were forgiven. The kids were in the pool, with the older kids, Lloyd among them, throwing them around. In general, things were good, albeit a little quiet. I made plans for the evening, which included sitting on the bank of the lake and drinking large quantities of whiskey. I don’t stab people when I drink, so where’s the harm?

That night, a drunk guy approached our party. He was pretty upset, and claimed that another cousin, Lloyd’s brother, had touched the man’s son inappropriately. Nobody took him all that seriously, including his friend, who told us that he gets this way when he’s drinking. I honestly had no idea that booze made non-relatives crazy. He left without incident, and that was the end of that. Until the cops showed up.

At first, I thought we were in for a treat. The tall, bald cop was accompanied by a young, good-looking, female cop. My first thought, “Is it someone’s birthday?” turned out to be incorrect: the drunk guy had called the law. After a few minutes of questions the cops left, completely disgusted with Lloyd, and satisfied that one drunk was flinging wild accusations at another. We don’t think Lloyd’s brother did anything inappropriate. In the words of my aunt, “He’s too cute to do that stuff. He doesn’t have to do it.” I took this to mean that he can have any underage boy he wants, but maybe I misunderstood.

In keeping with standard operating procedure, I killed the bottle of whiskey, watched the sun come up, and went to bed, prepared to start the process all over again a few hours later. After a few hours of sleep, I decided against it. Yeah, I caught a lot of shit over being ‘too old’ to throw down anymore, but truth is, I just didn’t have any bail money with me, and I was pretty certain we were progressing to body-in-the-lake territory.

I cannot wait until next year.

A California man has been indicted for an inventive scheme that allegedly siphoned $50,000 from online brokerage houses E-trade and Schwab.com in six months — a few pennies at a time.

Michael Largent, 22, of Plumas Lake, California, allegedly exploited a loophole in a common procedure both companies [...]]]> People like this are true American heroes.

A California man has been indicted for an inventive scheme that allegedly siphoned $50,000 from online brokerage houses E-trade and Schwab.com in six months — a few pennies at a time.

Michael Largent, 22, of Plumas Lake, California, allegedly exploited a loophole in a common procedure both companies follow when a customer links his brokerage account to a bank account for the first time. To verify that the account number and routing information is correct, the brokerages automatically send small “micro-deposits” of between two cents to one dollar to the account, and ask the customer to verify that they’ve received it.

This is a slightly modified version of the legendary Salami Method of computer embezzlement, featured in several movies, including Superman III, Hackers, and Office Space, by Mike Judge.

Largent allegedly used an automated script to open 58,000 online brokerage accounts, linking each of them to a handful of online bank accounts, and accumulating thousands of dollars in micro-deposits.

Two things: First, it takes a 22 year-old to realize that Superman III isn’t required viewing at bank software companies and security firms. Second, it takes a 22 year-old with enormous balls to go ahead and do this, regardless of how ignorant he is.

Here’s my favorite part:

Largent’s script allegedly used fake names, addresses and Social Security numbers for the brokerage accounts. Largent allegedly favored cartoon characters for the names, including Johnny Blaze, King of the Hill patriarch Hank Hill, and Rusty Shackelford. That last name is doubly-fake — it’s the alias commonly used by the paranoid exterminator Dale Gribble on King of the Hill.

Dude stole Dale Gribble’s stolen alias! That’s right, the proprietor of Dale’s Dead Bug, brazen in his commission of identity theft on numerous occasions, has become a victim of the same crime. Karma’s a bitch, Gribble.

However, what did Hank Hill ever do to deserve this? This is as bad as the time that the video store accused him of failing to return a porn tape, and put it on his credit report.

And then there’s Johnny Blaze. Johnny’s the Ghost Rider, and made a deal with the devil. Pretty sure he could care less about what Experian says about him.

A May 7 Secret Service search warrant affidavit (.pdf) says Largent tried the same thing with Google’s Checkout service, accumulating $8,225.29 in eight different bank accounts at Bancorp Bank.

When the bank asked Largent about the thousands of small transfers, he told them that he’d read Google’s terms of service, and that it didn’t prohibit multiple e-mail addresses and accounts. “He stated he needed the money to pay off debts and stated that this was one way to earn money, by setting up multiple accounts having Google submit the two small deposits.”

In other words, it’s not a crime if the only victim is a $184 billion company. Funny thing is, almost everyone agrees with this line of thinking–except for $184 billion companies. And that’s a hell of a tiebreaker.

1. I apologize for the fact that when you had me do dishes, I threw away some of the silverware that your grandmother gave [...]]]> As a belated Mothers’ Day gift, I’m posting 10 apologies to my mom, on a blog she doesn’t see. Sure it’s pointless, but that’s kind of how this thing works.

1. I apologize for the fact that when you had me do dishes, I threw away some of the silverware that your grandmother gave you if it was too gunked up.

2. I apologize for the time that I ‘cooked’ the charge from a Roman candle in a pot on your gas stove. I probably should have known better by then. For what it’s worth, I regretted it for a number of reasons, most notably the harm I did to my hearing.

3. I apologize for the trips to the emergency room. I have no idea why I felt like drinking bleach or eating baby aspirin were such great ideas.

4. I apologize for telling the doctor that you gave me poison, and we had to wait outside for me to throw up, when in fact I was the one who consumed poisonous berries, and that the ipecac syrup you gave me wasn’t actually poison.

5. I apologize for torpedoing your Avon career by rubbing Crisco into the curtains belonging to a little old lady during one of your sales calls. In my defense, I really think she just wanted someone to talk to, and had no intention of actually buying anything.

6. Although it’s not my fault, I apologize for the unhealthy interest that my friends have taken in you over the years, culminating in Joboo’s professions of his undying love for you. I really can’t stop vomiting enough.

7. I apologize for one time that I beat up my sister. She deserved it the other times.

8. I apologize for the excuses I made to get out of school. The Boy is using them now, and they’re pretty ridiculous. Why did you ever let me stay home?

9. I apologize for the time that I locked myself in a closet, and screamed until I fell asleep. I appreciate that you remembered the mirror on the other side of the door before my grandfather took an axe to it.

10. I apologize for the stolen orange cone in my bedroom, with the bottle of tequila underneath it. You never did think to look under there, right? Uh, right?