I hate Photoshop. It's slow, expensive, and impossible to understand. I've been trying to use it since version 2 came out for Irix. About 5 minutes ago, I tried to draw a box around something in it, and I couldn't figure out how to do it. I realize that that is a job for Illustrator, and not Photoshop, seeing how it's a vector operation. But do I really need a $300 program just to draw boxen?

I don't understand why everyone hates Macromedia's Fireworks. It's a perfect balance between raster- and vector-oriented graphicking. Unfortunately, now that Adobe has swallowed Macromedia, Fireworks is dead. Fuckers.

Here's a simple task I just did in 2 minutes in Fireworks:

With Photoshop, that could easily become a life-long assignment. You will become old and gray, while earning a very livable pension, trying to create outlines from the text, creating a union intersect, and, God help you, finding the stroke options anywhere in the menus. Not to mention the fact that you'll quickly pop a vein cursing Adobe whenever you click on an object and drag it somewhere, only to see the background mask move instead. And I'm sure there's a reason why at some point you can't right click anything anymore. I'm sure it's a mode or something.

This program sucks.

Skippystalin is officially on suicide watch: Paris is abstaining from sex for a whole year! As the last person on Earth who hasn't boned her yet, I have to say it's a good idea. Let it cool down a bit, baby.

Where did these people get the idea we give a flying faloopus, anyway?

I'll be damned; Boxcar Willie, the World's Favorite Hobo, is on Bavarian TV right now. And, get this: he's singing "The Lord made a hobo outta me." Never heard the song, but it started off with his trademark train whistle schtick that he does. Or did. I think he'd dead now. Poor Boxcar Willie: First the Lord made him a hobo, then he made him a sad, bitter old man on late night commercials on WTCG, channel 17, pre-Superstation/TBS days, hawking used-up old railroad songs to unappreciative hobo-groupies.

You actually get a lot of the old Urban General late-night infomercial stars over here. Roger Whitaker, for example, is very big in Europe. I only ever knew him from those commercials where they used the infamous "Elvis and the Beatles combined!" loophole to say how many records he'd sold. But over here, he actually gets some TV-time on the variety shows. Or maybe he's dead too, now, and it's all just re-runs.

And now, at 12:27AM, the Oak Ridge Boys are on stage. Bunch of mincing Nancies, these guys. Funny I didn't notice that back in the 70s. One of them has got on Jordache jeans, for the love o' Jesus. And they're tucked into his spiffy little light-brown 'cowboy' boots. And, I might add, a bright red bandana around his neck, with a brooch, I swear to God. That would be the one in the mauve blazer.

As a followup, they have what has to be the gayest cowboy act I've ever seen. There's a gym-queen Indian running half-naked around the stage, being chased by a bunch of leather-chap-wearing cowboys. With whips.

Late-night TV in Germany: It's not just for cheese documentaries anymore.

A little trip through recent history with Sam.

We watched the game in a local biergarten last night. It was beautiful out, and the German flag was waving everywhere, and the German team played like champs. Until the second overtime, that is. In the last two minutes of the game, Italy put two into the net, running away with a 2-0 win.

I hate the Italian team. They're a bunch of crybabies. Against the Americans, one of the Italian players threw a vicious elbow into McBride's face that actually split his cheek open. Nevertheless, they earned the win last night. The two late goals were pretty spectacular.

On July 9, Italy will be playing against the winners of tonight's match between Portugal and France in the finals. With Germany out of the running, maybe there will even be seats somewhere so we can sit down and watch it. After that, I can finally go back to hating soccer.