How Many Licks Does It Take To Get to The Chewy Center of a Newie Pop?

"If wishes were horses, we'd be up to our knees in horse shit."--Kitty McCartney


Well, nada happened SHAWTwise today, so let me tell you about my weekend.
Sunday I defrosted the refrigerator & Monday I did the laundry. Man, I'd better slow down before this fast-lane lifestyle kills me!
I did manage to see "The Iron Giant" at the macroplex though. I do say "manage" because, in typical Thoughtviperian style, made it to my seat just after the trailers started, leaving soggy jeans from the dryer at home. I'm hyper-efficient when at work, but when it comes to managing my own time I'm inept. 1st trailer: what could be scarier than "Pokemon the Movie"? "Pokemon the FIRST Movie". Lay down the chlordane, those crap movies breed like roaches. Iron Giant was AWESOME. I mean, I had rug burn the rest of the day from dragging my jaw along the carpet. I actually spent some time trying to find something, ANYTHING about it that peeved me in the slightest, & failed. Well, I was disappointed that it eventually ended, but that's hardly a complaint. Checking the web afterwards, I was very unhappy to discover that Warner basically threw this thing away, with no advertising or even Happy Meal toys. WHY? Spent all their money promoting The Wild Wild Worst? This is a great film; if it hadn't been done as animation it would've done better at the box office. It's funny & exciting, but done utterly realistically much like Anime. Fine for kids, but by no means a kiddie film. So, see it soon before it disappears into the Second Run Sticky Floor theaters with Dolby Analog in Mono.
An interesting thing in the movie is how *nothing* is said about Hogarth Junior's dad. There's 1 easy-to-miss shot of a photo of him climbing into a jet on his son's bedstand, but that's it. It seems there was a finished early scene of a mention of him being an MIA in Korea or such. I assume they cut it out to make it easier for today's kids (it's set in 1957) to identify with. Today, you have a single mom cuz she's divorced; back then, Daddy was dead.

After the movie I had a nice run at the Salv Army. A thing labeled Cape Cod Bar Openers, with a corkscrew & bottle opener attached to a pair of Rustic Types made from pecans. Yep, pecans & Cape Cod are synonymous in my mind. "They look like little perverts!" said the woman ringing me up. Actually, no, they look like pecans. Maybe you're thinking of "peanuts" (actually, not a nut, but a legume). A home-made plaster cast of R2D2. "I had 1 of Chewbacca," said the lady, "after my cat that I named Chewbacca because it was so mean. It disintegrated after a few years because I used it as a headstone when the cat died after 5 years because it so mean, it got run over by a car it probably attacked the car it was so mean, that's why I named it Chewbacca because iut looked just like him..." I was ready to jump under a car myself at this point. The SA hires some real oddballs, lemme tells ya. I bought a blow dryer, which the lady had no comment on. I bought it cuz it looked like it came from the very early 60s (& was $2). I thought blow dryers were a chicken & the egg kind of thing from the mid70s (which came 1st, the blow dryer or the feathered do?). For a quarter I bought a Ronald McDonald figure. It will be used for EEEVIL!!! in an upcoming InExOb. Bwa ha ha ha ha.

I'm so glad I have Kill Kill as a roommate. She can be an unstoppable force of destruction at times, but she's also truly affectionate. She likes to fall asleep in the drawer by my trackball, & when I leave to go to the bathroom, she'll rouse herself awake, follow me in there, lay on the bathroom mat groggily, then follow me back to the computer to sleep in the drawer again. Then again, maybe I'm flattering myself. KK has a toilet obsession. If she's in rampage mode, she jumps on the seat. She's twice fallen butt-first into it & twice been peed on cuz she shot her head in at the wrong time. Yet she still comes back for more. Her litter box is next to it, & frequently she'll join me in tinkling. The only time this bugs me (except when I have to towel off my toilet-soaked friend) is when I'm squatting. She climbs on my downed pants & sticks her HEAD down there. She's been banned from those bathroom sessions since she not only looked in but decided to PLAY with the nasty poops, then followed that up with "Hmm, this wobbly thing between his legs could be a cat toy!" Umm, NO.


Can You Be More Specific? Dept: "What do you have for someone who's from out of state to make them feel good when they think they may be getting the flu?" Right over here! Buy this bottle of--Oh No! We're out of it! We just have this vodka for limping Tibetan monkey trainers who feel a twinge of the whooping cough.
This is the 2nd time's someone come into a LIQUOR STORE looking for MEDICINE. Try a PHARMACY. Go buy NYQUIL, that's 25 proof & should kill both those birds. It reminds me of when I worked at Kay Bee Toys, & every few months someone would walk in, look around, & ask "Do you sell cigarettes?" Yeah, down the Controlled Substances aisle, right between the Barbies & the heroin.

Why Do People Who Insist On Violating Your Personal Space By Standing Way Too Close To Talk To You Often Have A Gag-Reflex Body Odor That Smells Like They Rolled Around On A Rotting Yak? Dept: Why do people who insist on violating your personal space by standing way too close to talk to you often have a gag-reflex body o--Oh. That's all there is to this 1. Sorry.

I was looking at the webcam collection Camarades--you don't wanna know why, grr--when I spotted a cam with an attractive young woman typing. With sunglasses on. Odd, I thought, but she's in California so she's nuts. A few pages later, I spotted her again--now located around Chicago. Hmm. I clicked on it; like all webcams it was deadly dull, just some chick looking up & down & typing. I clicked on her homepage & got some site selling I forget what...Frontiers of Spam. Web gnomes lookin' fer hot chix & getting an ad instead. I looked at the cam a bit longer. The "live feed" was a pre-recorded 30-second loop. Look up, look down, look up, look at camera, Look up...

Revolving debt is Bad, so I always pay my credit card off in full every month. It became time to get rid of the $25 a year service fee & get a free 1. I called my ISP to let them know to change my billing. The guy couldn't find me. "Are you sure you use Netplex?" Umm, for 3 years, yes. Eventually he found me somewhere. "That card expired 9/97. Oh well, we'll set you up with monthly billing starting this month." I hung up & thought, Monthly? I'd kept the old card running 3 months to make sure all my statements were clear. Hey, when was the last time I saw Netplex on my Visa bill?
HEY! I got free internet service for 2 YEARS!!!
Hey...And I could've had it in perpetuity if I hadn't called them today...

I mentioned yesterday Kill Kill's habit of following me into the bathroom & using the litter box while I use the potty, almost as if she's imitating me. Well, I guess I am her only role model. This morning she was standing on the bathroom sink, intently staring at my right hand as I brushed my hair. Without taking her eyes off my hand, she suddenly waved her right paw near her head 3 times in what sure looked like a mimicking of me...
Naw. I'm anthropomorphising here. I mean, it's not as if a cat is smart enough to make the connection between my behaviour &...Say, that looks like my car driving away! Where are my keys? And my wallet??


SHAWT: "Do you have...(vaguely waves at cooler doors)...Busch...Light...30 packs...cold?" Sorry, it's closing time! Should've talked faster. I open the cooler door & say "Straight ahead." He walks the 4 feet & grabs a Bud Light 30...slowly. "That's Bud Light," I say. He continues to slowly move. "That's Bud Light. That's Bud Light. Did you want Bud Light or Busch Light?" "I wanted Busch Li--Oh. This is Bud Light." When seconds count, don't call him. He's on the Slothlike Emergency Response Team. Just dial 911. Then, 201546489679342122133.

Good ol' Rockville Reminder. Some gems from the Speak Out column, where readers can call in their "thoughts."

Why is it? When it is
mealtime the
commercials that come
on the TV are about
roaches, ants, bugs,
hemorrhoids, and all the
other things that are so
distasteful. Also, I will
not buy Close-Up
toothpaste. Their ads
are obscene and dirty
and they should be
banned. Especially the
part where the girl rides
on the man�s neck.

This is to that
fifteen-year-old who
claims to have brains.
Well, I think her is void
of any brains if he thinks
all senior citizens are

Am I paranoid, or is
there something to this
thought? If antibacterial
chemicals are in soaps,
hand lotions, and more,
isn�t it likely that
bacteria will eventually
become resistant to
these chemicals, and in
turn become worse? Is
this possible? And
wouldn�t scientists
know this? Are they
trying to kill us all?
Of course, this same free paper had a recommendation on preparing school lunches: Don't use the same utensil for raw meat & other ingredients. Just in case you were fixing Junior a Peanut Butter & Raw Pork sammich.


SHAWT (with several bags of empties): "Do I need to take these empties out of the bags?" ME: "Do you know how many you have?" SHAWT: "No." ME: "Then I guess we'll have to take them out of the bag." What, did he think I was the Rain Man? "96 empties, definitely 96, & 7 are Coke. Countin' cans, countin' cans. Dad lets me recycle in the driveway. I have 6 fish sticks for dinner, these are not 6 fish sticks, they're cans."

Sweet Revenge Dept: Some Lotto idiot--oh wait, that's redundant; ALL Lotto players tend towards idiocy, especially when they're wasting money buying a $10 scratch ticket. This idiot didn't want the 1 in front (they have to sold in numerical order) cause it was "bent." I woulda told him to GET bent, but Chris gave him the 1 behind & bought the icky bent 1. Which was worth $50. Guess how much the unbent 1 was worth...(hint: it's not a number higher than squat)

SHAWT: How much is the Michelob 18 pack?
ME: $10.99.
SHAWT: $10.99?
ME: Yes.
SHAWT: For the Michelob?
ME: Yeah.
SHAWT: The 18?
ME: Yep.
I've been in retail waaay too long. Not only did I have no reaction to this inane conversation, but I also carried it on straight-faced while a big fat fruitfly crawled in this dumb fat guy's forehead sweat...


"Going to Heaven is not a matter of GOOD or BAD, it's a matter of SAVED or LOST." -- the alleged Jack Chick

Can someone explain the exact theology of Jack Chick to me? I've been following his...view on reality ever since I found the "Holy Joe" pamphlet lying on the floor of a department store 10 years ago. In that opus, a Devout Christian in the US Army is terribly harassed (yeah, Christian abuse, America's dirty secret) until his unit's sent to some undefined war being fought against subhuman Chinese monkey-men, at least according to the way they're drawn. His 2 main tormentors are killed. One asks for Christ's forgiveness the second before the bullets hit, the other the second after. Guess who gets to sit at the right hand of God for all eternity, and who burns. Memo to self: Remember to pray at last second; it can't hurt.
If you're Muslim, you go to Hell for not believing in Jesus. If you're Catholic , you go to Hell for not believing in Jesus the correct way. If you're a Jew, you go to Heaven because you DO believe in Jesus?! And if you're English, you go to Hell because that last tract, & all will become clear, or something. It's truly a classic of demented logic. If you're a mass murderer, you can go to Heaven while the lawman who caught you for murders goes to Hell for...I really don't know why. Apparently for being drawn with big teeth. People who do good all their lives going to Satan's Toaster while killers get God-flavored lollipops isn't a one-off idea of Chickie Baby's, either.

My head hurts now.

I'd like to say that the essence of his theology is that you only go to Heaven if you're Jack Chick, but I don't think there is any Jack Chick. The utterly different drawing & narrative styles of the tracts makes me think that Jack's an L. Ron Hubbard, dead for years while some band of crazed acolytes carries his sputtering torch forward.

"Accept Jesus into your heart" is the constant reminder, but that looks waaay too easy for a Messiah who daily pitches souls into damnation with an attitude of "Yeah, whatever." Just look at the glowing face of the lil kid going to Heaven while her Daddy fries eternally!

Please! Someone explain what I need to do to go to Heaven and sit at the right hand of Jack Chick!


Whoops. I let Laborious Day pass without a Look at the Future post as I've done the last 2 years. Here's an update:

The world didn't end in the 7th month of 1999. Nostradamus was wrong. Or--WAS HE? Yep, my own prediction of his prediction being rewritten happened. He didn't mean "the year 1999 7 months," he meant "1999 and 7 months," or July 2000. Uh huh.

Armegeddon hasn't happened yet, but the Fundies sure are keepin' the faith, looking forward to that glorious, wonderful day when God sends everyone not exactly like them to burn in Hell for a thousand years. The Fundamentalists will be safe because God will Rapture them away in their millions before the Antichrist makes life on Earth too gnarly. It's interesting that the people who believe in a literal interpretation of the Bible believe something that's not in it. Revelations says only 144,000 people will be Raptured away, & they're all male virgins. So Jerry Falwell & Pat Robertson are staying. The modern idea of the Rapture dates not from the Bible, but 1830 & a guy named William Miller. He proclaimed that the World Will End on 4/3/1843. Oops! The world was still there on 4/4. Oh no, wait, he meant 7/7. You'd think the reaction would be "Suuuure it will, Bozo, THIS TIME." But actually, his following quickly grew to 100,000. Prly not all male virgins, but the number was close to right. I hope I'm not giving the ending away by pointing out that he was wrong that time, too.
He really meant 3/21/1844. No, reeeally.
Wait, now it was 10/22/1844...
At this point, he kinda lost his popularity. But not so entirely that a spin couldn't be put on the predictions. Ya see, Jesus didn't come to Earth on that last day, he moved from the "Heavenly Sanctuary" to the "Heavenly Holy of Holies" (I wonder if Moses helped him move...too bad Goliath was in Hell; he would've been real handy). Ever see a Seventh Day Adventist Church? That's them, the last of the red hot Millerites, the sect that split off after the last failed predicition.
I bring this up specifically because the latest wave of "Armageddon Outta Here!" largely dates from the early 70s, when the book "The Late Great Planet Earth" was published. Standard issue interpretation is that the Tribulation will occur 40 years +/- 7 years after the rebirth of Israel, judged from either 1948 (Israel refounded) or 1967 (all of Jerusalem reclaimed). Hal Lindsey of TLGPE said that the earliest it could begin would be 1981, & the latest it could would be 2000 or 2007. At least he was smart enough to give himself more leeway than Miller did. Check back here in a year to see if either Nostradamus or Lindsey have a better track record than Miller.


Why is it then when I'm helping a customer by carrying out their packages, their 1st words upon exiting the store are "It's that car over there"? Am I supposed to run ahead of them & smash their window open with a rock?


Sorry. I've been waiting all century to say that.

Great. My schedule got changed at the last minute yesterday to a 12 hour shift today (meaning I have to be in bed 3 hours after I get home). So I blew off #brakchat & missed the comic geniuses (NOTE: no sarcasm there) behind the Space Ghost web site. Instead, I got the joyous morning shift, which can either see no customers for an hour & a half or (worse) the true pathetic drunks. There'll be the occasional senile citizen buying jug wine, but it's mainly people who've been waiting for the store to open at 8AM to buy 40s of malt liquor or pints of cheap vodka. I had this shift Saturday, & Rudy agreed that the woman who bought a pint of Bukoff at 8AM with $1.50 in pennies & still asked if she could owe me a dime was as pathetic a loser as a human could legally get. But today she sank lower, asking to owe 50 cents. No. Next time it'll be a $1, & soon it'll be the whole price. "You could get a half-pint," I helpfully suggested. She made a disgusted snort--yeah, only HALF a pint? I'll only lose half as many brain cells! She walked off in the direction of the next closest liquor store. Funny, I'd never seen her before Sat...I wonder what other store stopped this IOU crap that day.

Non Sequitur of the Day: I show an old lady where the wine she wants is. When she comes to the counter to pay, her 1st words are "I have a very high instep. Normally I wear a special shoe, but today I didn't." Uhh, okay. N'est ce pas une pipe to you, too.
Sorry. I've been waiting to use a Marcel Duchamp joke all century, too.


It's 5 minutes before closing & a guy pulls up. He's still sitting in his car with the lights on when I lock up at 8. About 2 minutes later he's banging on the door. I tell him it's after 8 & we can't sell to him as he looks over my shoulder at the store clock. "Is any place open?" "No, it's illegal to sell after 8." He asks with a puzzled expression "Even if you only want to buy 1 thing?" Oh yeah, I forgot about the One Thing Exception! Like how it's legal to steal a car as long as it's small.


A woman brings in a big stinking garbage bag full of empties. To borrow Kitty's line, YAY. She makes ME empty it to find out how many she has. When we (meaning me) are done, she says: "You can keep the bag for whatever use you need it for." WOW! FREE USED GARBAGE BAG?! Hey, I'd better keep my voice down, I don't wanna cause a riot! Talk about your heavy tippers! Hey, guess what--the use I want it for is to put it over your head & tie it at your neck!

Kill Kill finally did something that went from the Mischevious Scamp category solidly into Bad Cat territory. The "She'll outgrow it" stuff is the Scamp area. Things like pulling 50 feet of toilet paper off the roll, or somehow pulling Kleenex out of the box. I saw that, sighed, & began pushing the less shredded 1s back into the box. She ran over to the utterly destroyed tissues on the floor & made her "Eep eep!" noise, looking at me & batting the bits as if she was saying "Look what I did!!" Yes, dear, mommy's proud of you. My car's getting a bumper sticker that reads "Proud parent of a cat that destroyed your honor student's Kleenex."
I have a 6-pack sized cooler I use as a foot rest. I put my feet up on it last night & soon sniffed the air & said "What the fuck is THAT? Wait--I know that smell!" I started to stand up & my foot hit something squishy...
Kitten Shit? You're soaking in it!
I gave her the recommended punishment. I closed her in a metal trash can for an hour, beating the sides every few seconds with a tire iron--JOKING, joking here, don't call the Humane Society. Like I want to induce a fear of shitting in my cat. Once I'd cleaned my foot off enough to walk, I held the paper towel with the doody up to her & scolded NO! then carried her to the litter box, placed her in it, & petted her while soothingly saying "Good kitty, good!" The foot stool is also her launch pad --she jumps on it on the way to my lap. She tried this about a minute later, but sniffed the disinfectent on it, & instead climbed the kitchen table & sat motionlessly on it for 10 minutes, facing away from me & looking glum. This cat's only motionless when asleep, so she was either thinking "Shitting outside of the box is bad" or was stoned from huffing disinfectant fumes. Her next stop, of course, was my shoulder to purr for forgiveness. Of course, she got it.

Further Reading: Today I picked up the local free paper, the Advocate, and to my surprise the cover story was about the Rapture I coincidentally mentioned earlier this week...Apparently it was supposed to happen TODAY. Maybe it did & no one noticed, cuz only Jack Chick got to go...


We have a customer who looks like an emoticon.
Seriously. He has this perpetual look of raised-brows popped-eye amazement on his face. {8-\ is a good likeness. Remember how your mother would always say, "Stop making that face or someday it'll freeze like that!" In his case, maybe it was true. He buys a half-pint of Bacardi 151 every day. 151 is the proof. It's 1 of only 2 things we sell stamped with "WARNING: Keep away from open flame; can ignite & burn in a sustained manner." So naturally I should be concerned when he asked for matches tonight. Especially when he started the request off with "Hey, Clifford..." Clifford? How do you get that from "Bill"? (He always refered to an ex-employee named Jason as "Mikey") On the other hand, this was visit #2 in an hour, & he'd already bought the 151. So, I dunno, maybe right then I looked to him like a Big Red Dog.


Word for the day: Synchronicity.
Actually, there are 2 words for today. Today Rudy brought in yesterday's paper, & during a free moment I read my fave comic strip, Zippy the Pinhead. Zippy is unique in that it's purpose is more to make you think than laugh, so sometimes the SHAWTier readers of the paper complain "I don't get it!" as there aren't easily identified punchlines. Of course, 99% of the daily comics are funny as cardboard & are supposed to be funny, but I guess that's OK. Like Garfield...when was that EVER funny? & Jim Davis has both ghost writers AND artists!
Any rate...If you're familiar with Zippy, sometimes the "punchline" is him chanting the latest pop buzz phrase over & over(randomly selected from an old ish of Zippy Quarterly "Hell House Outreach Kits! Hell House Outreach Kits! Hell House Outreach Kits!!"). The day-old Zippy was about the word "battology," which means doing just that. Right after I read it, a guy came up with 2 Heinekens saying "He can owe me. He can owe me. Yeah, he can owe me. Ain't no bother, he can owe me. He can owe me. He can owe me."
I don't get it.

Hopefully there'll be a SHAWT tomorrow. Everyone's talking about how Floyd's going to hit town then, & that Floyd's going to rock the whole state. What's the big deal? Pink Floyd always tears the roof off when they come into town!


You know what they say--A Hurricane A Day Keeps The SHAWTies Away.
Actually, I don't know if They say that, & I don't have They's phone number handy to ask. And you could say that any one who goes out in a freakin' hurricane to buy beer isn't very intelligent to begin with. Points go to the moron who tried to impress the parking lot--hell, the whole tri-town area--with his Blazer's boomin' sound system. By rolling the window down. In a hurricane, with rain coming down at the rate of more than an inch an hour. He didn't do it for long...

Oh yay! Some new dumpster-diving insane homeless people. I can understand why they'd be missing teeth, but an EYE? There but for the grace of God go I, except that I'm not fat & crazy & eyeless & dumpster diving. What does 1 do with 1's hard-earned deposit cans? Invest it all in Lotto scratch tickets, o'course. Her significant other kept losing, while Popeye got a few bucks. "He ain't got the skill" she said, although she didn't add "Arf arf arf! Well blow me down!" Yeah, scratching gunk off a ticket, people go to college for years to hone that skill. Maybe the problem isn't that the guy didn't have skill, but that he had stereoscopic vision?


I was prly the only person going "YEAH, BABY!" to Hurricane Floyd. It's arrival Thursday coincided perfectly with the 1st day of the Lion Club Carnival a 1/4 mile up the street from the store, & there were only 2 of us working. I knew it would be a Carnival of Carding for us, as the underage went to the closest packy. Since they'd be from all over town, they wouldn't know they were going to the likker store that should have ABANDON ALL HOPE OF GETTING DRUNK, YE UNDERAGE WHO ENTER HERE inscribed in marble over the doorway. Tonight the carnie was on, & some bum came in with a kid about 30 years younger than him. The kid was reading from a LIST to the guy, who obviously not only didn't know where the stuff the kid wanted was, he didn't know WHAT it was. "Where's the...'Zima'?" he asked. "In the beer cooler," I said, causing another customer to laugh: "That's a good place to start!" He buys the whole spectrum: cheap shit beer, excellent imported beer, nasty sweet crap, shmops--sorry, schnapps--, 40s of Bud. "You have your ID?" Rudy asks the kid, with the voice of a war-weary soldier who already knows the answer. "I forgot i--" End of story as Rudy, Jake & I tell the bum to vamoose. "It's all for me!" he insists. "He's just here to help me!" Ahh, I get it--you're semi-literate. You can WRITE lists, but you need someone to read them BACK to you. "I don't even know this guy! We've never met before! He's just helping me!" Yeah, I do that all the time. I walk up to strangers in JCPenney & ask if they can help me try pants on. I related the story to the owner, & he said "The part about him never having met the guy was probably true." Good point.

On the Road: A Ford Aerostar with dainty swirly filagree pinstriping & a decal reading "FEAR THIS." Yeah, minivans with child safety seats makes me soil myself in terror alllll the time.
Actually, it *would* scare the bejesus out of me if someone pointed a camera at the future & snapped ME driving 1 of those...


I've no idea how many of you read this Sat night, but the InExOb is up already. Better 15 hours early than 8 late, I figured. I'm up bright & early tomorrow to go to the place where I found the now-legendary Evil Lawn Gnome Ob, the antiques area of Putnam CT. And it's the last Sunday of Summer...UGH. I hate the Fall. You're just condemned without hope to Winter, expecting the worst & taking pleasure when it doesn't happen. Fall torments me with the occasional beautiful Summer or Spring-like day combined with the worry "Is this the last 1?" Then, everything dies. Brown & gray for 6 months. Having the memory of a good friend being killed by a drunk driver in Autumn never helps my attitude any. Everything dies in the Fall...
Ugh indeed.
But, I'm off to Putnam to hopefully find some new InExes & some closure. This Date In History was muy significant a year ago. Very bad, which led to good, which led to Putnam, which led to GREAT, which led to bad, which led to now. My memories of my last trip to Putnam are wonderful & beautiful, but now bittersweet. I could use some new ones.
Plus, the river through this VERY cool little town of endless antique stores has a man-made waterfall. It should be most spectacular as Floyd's torrents burst along it.

Yah sure yah betcha, but who comes here to hear THAT crap? Here's what pays the bills:

Illuminating Conversations:
SHAWT: Does your other store have the 1 liter & 75/100ths size of Chivas Regal?
ME: I'll check. (on phone) Hey, do you have Chivas Regal 1.75s? Thanks. (to SHAWT) Yes, they have them.
SHAWT: Have what?
ME: Chivas Regal.
SHAWT: What size?

SHAWT #2: I need 3 cases.
ME: Cases of what?
SHAWT: 1 case of Bud Ice, & 2 of something else.

Ahh, crap. I'm not done, but this New is. No space left. Hey, check back tmw. I'll finish this story & maybe have something to say about my trip to Putnam. Boy, an early InEx & a Sun SHAWT! Are you guys lucky, or what?!