The days are getting cooler, the political issue rob-calling is winding down, and most stores are busy setting up extensive Valentine's day promotional material-- which means it must be time for me to write my annual Christmas letter. 2008 has been a crazy year with the economy, the presidential election, and, of course, the wonderfully crazy mid-season cliffhanger of Battlestar Galactica which led a shaky alliance between the Cylons and the fleet back to Earth only to see the crumbling remains of New York City. What the frack happened? We have to wait until January 2009 to how that's going to play out.

I knew exactly what I had to do when I read about the latest X prize news. The new contest is to create a two minute video describing your “crazy green idea” relating to energy and the environment that could become the goal for their next competition. Never being short on crazy ideas, I immediately recalled an idea I mentioned a few months ago about building a desalination device powered by wave energy. I made a video and posted it to YouTube today. I figured I could spend a few minutes giving some history of this particular video.


First off, I'm not a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon. I'm a UPS driver in Loveland, Colorado. This explains most of my YouTube screen name: loveups74. When I started out, I really had no idea how to make a video. I knew I had to do something simple but catchy-- elaborate graphics and fancy camera work weren't options. Alert readers will recognize the similarities to the “Free Credit Report” pirate song. I tried, but I couldn't get a hold of those guys to sing my version of the song. It has been stuck in my head for the past month, so I figure they owe me.

Campaign Ad #1

The entire ad is shown in the form of dated black and white film. The scene fades in showing an elaborate 1950's ball A full sized orchestra is playing Glenn Miller's “Moonlight Serenade.” All the men are clean cut and wearing traditional suits. A few couples are dancing in the middle, but for the most part the men are on one side and the women are on the opposite side.

George W. Bush is casually drinking some fruit punch and John McCain is in a dress and high heels wearing makeup sitting alone with the other women. They briefly establish eye contact but McCain quickly looks away. Bush sets his drink down and slowly moves towards McCain.

Welcome Humanoid—I, Ertok the Evil Alien Overlord, have been assigned the process of downloading and summarizing recent memories from unit 5d-301, also known as Omar. On a side note, he didn’t seem to enjoy the memory nasal probe. None of them do, which is strange considering how much recreational time these humans spend on digitally probing their own nasal cavities. Sure, the NP-5000 penetrates slightly deeper and contains various sharp, pointy objects similar to a Swiss Army Knife, but otherwise the processes are identical. And really, why am I stuck on this remote planet monitoring meaningless humans anyway? Just because I drank a bit too much space ale last holiday and vaporized the arm of the Assistant Regional Supervisor of Remote Planet Observations? His two other arms remain intact, so as long as he doesn’t plan on a career in professional hyper-circuit-plasma-ball, he should be fine. And trust me, he doesn’t have anywhere near the upper thorax for it anyways. But I digress-- commencing download.

Sunday early morning local news program. The stadium crew is busy setting up chairs in the middle of Investco Field.

News anchor: … and preparations are underway for what is expected to be largest single event at Investco Field…

(Quick Channel Change)

Mid-morning: News reporter standing next to the highway at I-70 and the Kansas border. Eighty percent of the vehicles going west are UPS trucks, both delivery and feeder trucks.

Reporter: …here on I-70 at the Kansas border since dawn. As you can see behind me, a majority of the vehicles passing by are the familiar brown color, and it shows no signs of letting up…

Announcer: Do you have a girlfriend?

[Shots of three different guys nodding]

Announcer: Is she perfect for you?

[First guy nods, and the other two shake their heads]

Announcer: Is she inflatable?

[First two guys look offended, the third one give and apologetic shrug]

Announcer: If you answered “Yes” or “No” to any of these questions, or if you haven’t changed the channel yet, you need the IGF 3000! After months of continuous use, inflatable girlfriends, or IGFs, have been known to malfunction and produce undesirable behaviors.

[Shot of man and IGF in bed with the man shivering and all the sheets on top of the IGF]

Two thousand and six-- what a year. Some professional football team won the Super bowl, the Democrats won a majority in both houses of Congress, and almost all of humanity was destroyed in an unexpected large-scale thermonuclear attack from a previously unknown Cylon attack force. Hold on—I might be confusing things that happened on television with stuff outside television. Now that I think about it, it was the Cylons who won the Superbowl, and the Dallas Cowboys who destroyed the twelve colonies of mankind.

In an unrelated note, I finished Netflix-ing the first two seasons of the SciFi Channel series Battlestar Galactica. On a whim I added the first DVD to my queue, and after the first twenty minutes I was hooked. I would say it is like crack to me, but I've never smoked crack, so something like "high fructose corn syrup" or "partially hydrogenated oils" would be more appropriate to my situation. What's so great about Battlestar Galactica? (or, as we in the business like to say, BSG) Sure, I've always been a Science Fiction geek, but this series is so much more than I expected. I like to think of it as Star Trek with a healthy dose of nuclear annihilation, drug abuse, and (best of all) hot human/Cylon threesome sexual encounters. That, and they aren't afraid to kill off main characters on a regular basis. Who is going to get thrown out of an airlock this week? Stay tuned!

My name is Omar Lutfey, and I recently lost my Kinetics virginity. Don’t bother looking for it under the sofa cushions or behind the mint Oreo ice cream in the freezer. I don’t know exactly what happened, but after May 5, 2006, it disappeared forever. Countless readers have been asking, no, demanding, that I document, in excessive and possibly accurate detail, what exactly happened at my virgin Kinetics experience. I spent months preparing for the event. I wanted every little detail to be perfect. Sure, I didn’t really know what I was doing—watching other people do it from a distance just isn’t the same. When the moment of truth came I took a deep breath, lunged in, and just did whatever felt natural. Ten seconds later I was finished—exhilarated, soaking wet, and surrounded by broken PVC pipe and camouflage painted Styrofoam blocks. Welcome to Kinetics.

I never thought I would say this, but it turns out our Kinetics theme was too liberal for Boulder. After considering a handful of options, we decided to be “Official Government Surveillance Mascots” since the whole unauthorized wiretapping is such a hot topic these days. So we decorated the craft and constructed some appropriate costumes. We also had to come up with a three minute skit to perform during the parade. I thought it was really funny and would have played well in Boulder, but we got booed off the stage after getting about one quarter of the way through.


Omar: Hello, I’m TAPPY!

My neighbors waved pleasantly at me as they drove past my garage today. I expected a few odd looks considering the fact that I spent the better part of the afternoon physically assaulting an old thrift store bicycle with a hacksaw, power drill, and various other hand-held tools. Also worth noting: nobody bothered to stop and ask me what I was doing. Maybe they didn’t see the mass of tools, partially dismantled bicycle components, and various building supplies that has engulfed more than half my garage. Or they really had to pee and didn’t have time to inquire about my situation. Perhaps they are robots. I may never know the truth. But I do know this—my name is Omar and I’m building a craft for this year’s Kinetics Race.

I'm switching Internet service providers because my wireless service didn't work well in the wind. A cable modem should improve the overall performance, and, as a bonus, my pornography will stop showing up on my neighbor's computer.

My doctor's prostate exam really left an impression on me. And by that I mean that all my poop is shaped like his finger.

A report in the December 2007 issue of Animal Behavior claims male monkeys pay for sex with grooming services. After a twenty month observation of the monkeys, one researcher concluded, "Despite the rather conclusive evidence that monkeys pay for these services, we still advise the general public to avoid monkeys who try to pay for sex with a personal check."

A German travel agency recently announced it would start taking bookings for a trial nudist day trip from the eastern German town of Erfurt to the popular Baltic Sea resort of Usedom. The 55 passengers will have to remain clothed until they board, and dress before disembarking. When asked what effect this will have on the flight one executive commented, "we expect a drastic reduction in the number of passengers wanting to swap seats-- especially during the summer months."

Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett recently challenged it's citizens to collectively lose one million pounds through change in diet and exercise after being ranked in the top 10 of America's Fattest Cities. After hearing the news, the two half million pound men in the front row looked at each other and asked, "That's all great and all, but what can WE do to make things better?"

State and federal wildlife biologists are teaming up to eliminate rats who have, for the past 200 years, overrun a large Alaskan island uninhabited by humans. The island, known to locals as "Rat Island," will face a multi-pronged attack that will include the use of a blood thinners to make the rats bleed to death. One official close to the operation commented, "I'm sure we can get people to live there when we can change the name from 'Rat Island' to 'Dead Rat Island.'"

The International Bureau of Weights and Measures recently reported the 118-year-old cylinder that is the international prototype for the metric mass of a kilogram appears to have lost 50 micrograms. This confirms a theory that scientists have suspected for quite some time now-- everyone is getting fatter.

Weird Al Yankovic needs to remake Rupert Holmes “Escape” (The Pina Colada Song) but have it be about meeting people online. It would go something like this “If you like Internet Dating/Meeting new people online/Here’s a list of some websites/And true love you will find.”

One thing I’ve come to realize about getting fitted for a tuxedo is this: No matter how young, cute, and perky the girl helping you is at the fitting station, getting your inseam measured is always an awkward experience.

My mother appreciates qualities like caution, planning, and careful measuring-- none of which I was exhibiting in great quantities at the moment.

Since moving into my townhouse, I would often compare my living room to my appendix—both are rather useless appendages that I could easily live without.

This is the true story of seven strangers, picked to live on a starship and have their lives holographically recorded, and find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting REAL. The Real World: The Next Generation!

So while I may say a lot of things that, after careful examination, aren't exactly factually correct (like when I swore up and down to Kristin there was a "Godfather 4" movie that just happened to never be at Blockbuster), I'll never again say I'm in my twenties.

I was excited to see Ricky Lake play the lead role-- especially after seeing her amazing performance as the front of the Filthy Whore ship in the movie "Cabin Boy."