The iPhone 3GS has been out now for several months, maybe even more than a year, I don’t really know, but with a laziness factor that goes to 11, I am certainly not going to take the time to look it up.

Anyway, the iPhone 3GS is new to me—I just got one last Thursday—so, for me, this is cutting-edge technology.

Right away I noticed the brilliant marketing scheme involved with this phone. Sure, I saved $400 on the purchase by upgrading my existing phone plan, but the first thing you are required to do once you get it home, is whip out your credit card and set up an iTunes account.

This is not optional. You need an iTunes account in order to get updates to you phone’s software.

The phone is equipped with several “apps” which enable you to do things like check the current temperature, find where you are on a map, etc., but I can’t for the life of me find anything that tells me how much battery life I’ve got left.

Luckily, there’s an app that takes you to the “app store” in order to find an app that you can download which will tell you how much battery life you have left. In fact, there are several apps that do this—many you can download free of charge. But, while you’re there getting your free battery app, it’s irresistible to to avoid checking out the thousands of other apps they have which do AMAZING things. Of course, these apps are not always free.

For instance, while I was at the app store, I got:

1. AppBox Pro (a collection of apps including a really cool battery-life app) $1.99
2. Snapture (a photography app enabling you to extend the phone’s camera features) $1.99
3. Simply Tweet (a Twitter app that is TOTALLY worth the price) $4.99
4. Fresh Feed (a Friendfeed app. I NEED THIS!) $2.99
5. Red Laser (scans barcodes with your phone and searches the web for the best deals) $1.99
6. Battery Magic Pro (an even BETTER battery app I found after I bought AppBox Pro) $1.99
7. Best Camera (yet another app to enhance photos) $2.99

After adding a few MP3′s at $.99 – $1.29 each my total coming out of there was about $27.

And, I thought Microsoft was evil.

It took almost 2-years, but it finally happened: I’ve published my 100th blog post (you’re reading it right now).

I know a lot of my blogging friends reached 100 posts a lot quicker, such as after the first 5 minutes they started their blog, but for me, this is pretty good. Considering it’s only September and Dead Rooster went live on January 1st, 2008, it actually averages out to more than a blog post a week! That’s not bad, right?

I actually have the enthusiastic desire to write blog posts every day, but since my day-job involves lifting heavy objects under the boiling hot sun, it’s difficult to maintain energy to write after I get home.

One solution I had was to get a pocket video camera and take it with me wherever I go, do sort of a Dead Rooster Reality Show, but having convinced myself that the Kodak Zi8 is the perfect video camera for blogging, I am constantly disappointed because they keep selling-out (at least at the original $179 Amazon non-reseller price) before I can get one!

But, I think I can survive without video for a while.

Now that October is right around the corner (as in tomorrow), the busy season should be winding down soon and I can get back to blogging more regularly.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me for 100 blog posts!

Photo credit: dave 7

Finally, a diet that really works! Just contract a flu virus that produces fire hose style diarrhea while simultaneously denying you—in-between bathroom sessions—the ability to eat so much as an oat molecule.

I have no idea what strain of flu I’ve contracted, but given its imaginative features, the virus could only have been brewed in hell under the collaborative supervision of Vlad the Impaler and Walt Disney.

What’s puzzling to me, though, is that I’ve only lost five pounds.

NOTE: This quick Public Service Announcement was produced to alert my loyal readers as to my whereabouts over the past few days. I am feeling much better and will see you in the next day or two. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

I recently stood on the very spot where, in 1806, Lewis and Clark, after an historical 2-year expedition to reach the pacific ocean, looked at each other and said, “we came all this way for this?”

I’m sure an accurate history of the Lewis and Clark expedition is fascinating, but I am much too lazy to do any sort of actual research, so I’ll have to rely on what I remember from my fifth-grade history class and my recent trip to Seaside, Oregon.

Legend has it that during an historical August day in 1803, Zeek “Meriwether” Lewis and William “Crazy Legs” Clark, having realized Honus Wagner was not yet invented and it would be exactly 100-years before the first World Series, decided there was nothing better to do than take an historical hike to the Pacific Ocean.

Unfortunately,  they were in Pittsburgh—WAY closer to the Atlantic than the Pacific. But, if there’s one thing William Clark knew about Meriwether Lewis, it’s that if he doesn’t get his way, he’ll likely throw a colossal temper tantrum, holding his breath until he turns an historical shade of turquoise.

So off they went skipping in historical fashion toward the Pacific Ocean.

After about 3 hours they noticed they had been skipping in circles, so they enlisted the services of an historical Native American woman named Sacagawea to serve as guide and interpreter. She (Sacagawea) strapped her infant son—who’s name I’m not making up—(Jean Baptiste Charbonneau) onto her back and led them (Lewis and Clark) out of the city and into the scary, but historical wilderness.

After a grueling 2-years of battling wind, rain, sleet, snow, banditos, leaky canoes, werewolves, salesman and many varieties of historical vegetation, they finally arrived at Seaside, Oregon where they were historically dipped in bronze to forever watch the seagulls poop into the briny sea.

More than 200 years later (in fact, just last week) I was led around Seaside by my girlfriend Gloria—who, as luck would have it,  is 50% Native American AND a Native Oregonian—where we visited an historic-looking Mexican restaurant.

I boldly, and historically ordered a Beef Chimichanga.

Historical evidence: