Now where'd I put my drink?

Oot and Aboot

2010-02-18T10:12:00.002-05:00

Yeah, yeah..it's been awhile. Forgive me, but I'm damn boring and nothing has really been happening. Let's recap shall we?
I used to live in crappy house/apt. in a crappy part of a crappy town. Tired of freezing to death and listening to Fiestas every Sunday afternoon, I broke my lease and moved. I bought a house in an altogether different town 30 miles away and am now ensconced in warmth and quiet. Two of my favourite things! Most of the time. One can only, however, sit at the kitchen table and watch the evening news while drinking wine so many nights in a row before one goes batshit crazy. The time table on this is usually about 3 days. I've been doing it for 2 months. Hey, it was exactly 2 months yesterday! Go me! Anyway, I've come to find that if you watch the local news while drinking said wine, you will become belligerent and want to kill the newscasters and weather people and stupid people they interview. Well, maybe not kill, but at least choke heartily. Or, you may want to kill yourself. Eh, either way, it takes its toll on you. I suppose all local news is a little hinky, but, jaysus, sometimes I feel dumber after watching it.
Anyway, finally I've gotten to the point where I almost have a budget and my new town is kinda cool, so I thought I would venture out to visit my new favourite bar. I know. I was shocked too. I stopped after work and got a haircut because I'm too lazy to keep up a schedule with that and desperately needed one and came home and took a shower (I can't stand the little hairs all over me) and contemplated my moves for the evening. That lasted about 5 mins til I bolted out the door like my ass was on fire and my head was catching.
I head downtown (about a 5 min drive), find a parking place finally, and walk up the street to my new home away from home. I'm pretty excited at this point because it's really the first time I've been in there without someone else coming along. Yeah, I know...freak. Anyway.... But, SURPRISE! They don't open til 5. Really? 5? What about your afternoon drinker? Discrimination I say. They were, however, nice enough to let me sit inside at the bar for 15 minutes so I didn't have to stand outside in the freezing wind. 5:00 = game on. $1.10 drafts = awesomeness. Cute Bartender = things are looking up. Music on the radio = horrid. Horrid. But, once we (the bartender, cook, and I) got to talking I didn't notice the music quite as much. But, still...dance-type music in an empty bar in the afternoon? Gag. I'm sure you all know my opinion of that genre of music anyway. 1 out of ever 4 songs that came on was decent though..must've been some popular hits station or something. I miss the variety of the 80s radio stations. I listened to an old Top 40 countdown the other week and the variety of music was shocking to my ears. It went in order through Huey Lewis, Duran Duran, Quiet Riot, something else I can't remember now...but there's no variety like that anymore. We're pigeonholed into this category or that. I'll have none of it, I tell you. Ok, ok. Ironically enough, (and I don't care if it's really ironic or not...I'm with you Alanis) the town also has a No Dancing Ordinance. Yeah, no kidding. Just like Footloose. And if I see Kevin Bacon coming, I'm punching him in the throat. There are bars where you can dance, but it has to have a separate area designated for that. Hey, I'm fine with that. I'm not a dancer, nor do I really want to see people dancing. Unless it involves glitter and dollar bills. Then that might be a different story. Where was I? Oh yeah. No Dancing. Enter a guy I will call Smiley. He's probably my age or even a little younger. Has nary a tooth in his head. Nary a one. Smiles. All. The. Time. He proceeded to tell me how the no dancing rule is true and that they will throw you out for it..especially if you're not a pretty girl. He said one time there was a girl dancing in the room upstairs where the pool tables are and no one said anything to her (duh) so he thought he would go on over and "dance" with her. I interpreted that as "I stumbled over and tried to rub all over her with my junk." And, they threw him out of the bar. I know, right? I'm guessing that this is not the first dancing incident my pal Smiley has been involved in. I would make a strong bet that that's why he doesn't have any teeth...he danced up to the wrong girl once and probably had them removed for him. I'm laughing like hell at this point because he's almost demonstrating his moves when the bartender tells him to cut it out. She looked at me and grinned...I think at this point she was ready for Smiley to go play pool and shut the hell up. But, it was definitely entertaining.

I sat there til a little after 7 and had the whole place to myself practically. It was awesome..like owning my own place but without the bills and the overhead and the worry of no one being in there. Of course, were it mine, the music would be better too. Here's a crappy picture of the inside looking back toward the street. My phone doesn't do well after dark. I tried to get a picture of Smiley too, but couldn't sneak one in. And, no, I'm not asking. I don't want to bond that much, thank you.

It's a good quiet place (at least early) and the pizza's awesome, so I think it'll work for awhile. But, being the responsible adult I am (ha!), I will stick to my new budget and only visit when I'm ready to break my television...and perhaps dance illegally.

The Pinnacle

2008-12-17T06:38:00.001-05:00

I work in printing. Printing for banks specifically. You know, the receipts, the deposit slips, the drive up envelopes. Boring stuff.

Today I will embark upon the greatest project that I've had in my hands in 8 years.

I'm printing an envelope for a strip club!!!!

I'll let that sink in for a minute.

A strip club!

I guess people need a place to keep all those ones.....

I'm so proud. I can't wait to tell my mom that I'm contributing something to a strip club other than my paycheck.

Behold!

2008-12-10T06:54:00.001-05:00

The glory and wonder of Christmas.........

It's no Leg Lamp, but I think it conveys the spirit.

Another visitor this weekend. I'm not sure how I feel about all this social interaction. I don't see it stopping til New Year's either. But, rest assured, 2009 will find me sitting on the couch at 12:01 a.m. enjoying the peace and quiet (possibly sleeping) and dreaming of a better year to come. For all of us.

OCD 3, Me 0

2008-11-07T08:53:00.001-05:00

So I've been looking for some chairs and a couch to replace the couch and loveseat that I currently have in my living room. And by looking I mean stalking the auction house practically being eaten up by finding something that doesn't look like someone lived on it, in the rain, next to the sewer, with dogs, and turds. Last night, I found 2 chairs that are wonderfully clean (like no one ever even sat in them) and I had one like them a long time ago, so I was all over them! Even my nemesis, The Junk Man, didn't bid on them. Score!! Now....the Dilemma.

You see, my couch is the piece that really needs to go. The loveseat is comfortable still. However, the loveseat is too small to take over the couch's spot in the room, in front of the coffee table, in front of the fireplace (in the house that Jack built). Too. Small. It throws off the whole balance of the living room. Seriously. No, really. Enter my dad and his friend. They're telling me last night (at 10:00) how I can move this here and that there and if I move my tv to another corner and blah blah blah. The thing is, the tv can't move because I don't want a cable running across the floor all the way across the room. The table directly opposite the tv can't move because it has the wireless rear surround speaker on it and we all know that your speakers HAVE to be lined up. HAVE to. This comes as quite a surprise to men who have only recently experienced DVDs. A baffling surprise to say the least.

So, around 10:15, after a long period of postulating, I decided that we just needed to move stuff so I could see it. And, you know what? It doesn't look bad. I haven't had a chance to sit in there and see how it feels but it looks good...almost better, but I won't tell them that. My only concern is getting the fan in one of the windows this summer, but I'll worry about that then. The chairs aren't there yet. They're going to get them for me this morning since I can't seem to get out of work. Of course, if I was working instead of blogging, I could probably go. The thing is, because the room is different, I couldn't sleep last night. Couldn't sleep. I can't work today. I took over this supervisor spot without hesitation and wasn't nervous. But, you move my room around and suddenly I'm Rain Man. Hmph.

So, yeah. I'm leaving around 10:30 today and arranging and rearranging and sitting for an hour or so until it feels right. Then, I'll go back out to the grocery store like I need to and wanted to do on the way home from work today but can't because I HAVE to get there to see how things are and blah blah blah. God, I'm sick.

Have a good weekend!!

17 has turned 35

2008-10-23T11:09:00.001-04:00

Well, 34 for now, but whatever.

When I was in college eons ago, one year every Friday was tomato soup and grilled cheese day in the cafeteria. Lacking money and homecooked meals on cold days, I looked forward to this event all week. Also, I didn't have any classes after lunch. Enjoying some tomato soup just now, I realized that it has indeed turned very cool outside and I'm also still lacking money and homecooked meals most days. See how the world's all one big circle. Stupid world.

Other than that, well, a lot...but not much. I've been busy at work for the first time in ages. After running from every sort of responsibility you can imagine for the past forever, I'm now officially a Boss. Wheee! It's no different other than now when I'm loud and opinionated, some people have to listen to me. Awesome. But, it gives me something to focus on at work other than which 90s alt. band is my favourite or which songs from the 80s that I absolutely could not live without or what I'm going to make for dinner and will it involve drinking some beer or should dinner time be pushed back to accomodate said drinking or "I can't believe it's only damn Tuesday"....Well, you get the idea.

I prepped my house for the cold weather yesterday, which basically means I just shut the storm windows. Now, I need to buy 2 heaters for the living room. I was planning this 3 weeks ago, but it was warm and they still had fans out in the store. So, being the Super Genius that I am, I forgot about it. Until it was 29 this morning. I guess I thought that if in the middle of October it's 85 degrees then naturally winter just isn't coming.

We were tailgating at a football game the other week and rode in my friend's SUV. He has a kid so naturally his car has a DVD player in the back. I wanted to watch a movie but all he had was "James and the Giant Pickle" which despite its pornish name is a kid's movie. As we're pulling out of the parking lot saying our goodbyes to all our tailgating BFFs, I may or may not have leaned out of the back window to offer this girl a ride along with the chance for her to see J (me) and the Giant Pickle. I'm not sure why she didn't get in with us....She must be gay.

Well, that's it from my corner of the cube...I'm sure somewhere here there's someone that needs to be told what to do.

Give me oysters and beer for dinner every day of the year

2008-10-02T06:48:00.002-04:00

Behold the majesty of the rolling cooler. It was marketed as a "beach cooler." Let me just tell you how big a pile of horseshit that is. It plows sand better than it rolls, but that couldhave been from the 2 cases of beer and 20 lbs of ice in it. Whatever. False advertising I say.

remnants before sundown

Where we spent most of our days

We drove out on the beach right behind the Cape Hatteras light house.

I tried to get some pictures of the bait fish that were swimming right behind the breakers that made the water look literally like it was boiling, but they didn't turn out. The dolphin pictures are too far away, too. But, they were there dammit!!

There's also a picture of a woman from Denmark that I had to help pull out of the surf because she got a cramp apparently in her leg. It didn't turn out that well either. I think my buddy was laughing too hard to take it. I'm saying an apparent cramp because she spoke NO English at all but kept rubbing at the back of her leg. They were very appreciative though of my concern and didn't seem to mind that I smelled like beer and fish. So, score 1 point for Denmark.

It was only a week's vacation, but surprisingly unlike most vacations I've been on, the good feelings seem to be lasting a little longer this time around. We're already talking about where we want to go next year. I can't wait for the next trip somewhere!

A life lived without shoes is a good one

2008-09-30T06:26:00.005-04:00

Here are a few pics from the Big Vacay. I'm waiting on my sets to come back, but I snagged these from everyone else.

We got to the beach on Saturday afternoon and tossed the bags in the door and headed for the beach immediately. Several beers later, we were priviliged enough to watch the mostly full moon rise over the water.

Then, the mosquitoes came out. Yeah. That's right. Mosquitoes at the beach. I've never seen it in all my life. They were so thick that you couldn't really go out after dark. Even in 30 mph + winds. Apparently, they like the coast since the Great Dismal Swamp (no joke) burnt up a few weeks ago.

Sunday...let the fishing begin!!

Squid is better as calamari.

Look at that rod, would ya? (that's what she said)

This picture isn't photoshopped. The pier really is warped and crooked like that from storms. Yet, it's amazingly sturdy. And, by Wednesday (?), very windy....

I'm propping my beer up and trying to keep it from blowing into the water.

This is Dylan, my friend's dog. He LOVED the beach. We're not posing here, however. I'm sitting on him to keep him from rushing out into the water after his owner. M was out too far for the dog to keep up with him and the surf was really rough. That ridge behind me appeared overnight. The whole beach was that high the day before. So, yeah, I got to dog-sit...and it took two of us to hold him back That can hugger in my hand? Best. Three. Bucks. Ever. EVER. You put the can down in it, and it has a lid. A lid!!!!!!!! Not only does it keep the sand and stuff out of your beer, but it also looks conspicuously like a travel coffee cup. Best 3 bucks I've ever spent.

We caught a good many fish every day, but didn't keep any. It wasn't worth the trouble of getting them back home. Besides, there was plenty of shrimp and chicken and steaks at the house waiting on us. I can't remember a week where I felt so good. I can't wait to go back next year.

Hopefully I'll have some more pictures by the end of the week

OCD 2, me 0

2008-09-05T11:57:00.002-04:00

I'm a pretty laid-back kind of guy. I try not to really give a damn about much of anything. But, there are some things that really get me fired up. Especially simple things that should remain so. We've probably discussed this before, but just go along with me, huh? I like things to be in order, neat, arranged, where they belong. I dislike random messes. Stacked books, papers, etc. are fine...as long as there's some semblance of order to them. Yeah, I know. Anyway.....

When I moved in to my place last year, the kitchen ceiling needed fixing and the porch wanted painting. I told them and they said something like blah blah blah. So, I let it go. I mean, it doesn't really affect me and after about a month or so of constantly looking at it and cursing everything around me, I got over it. Mostly. Well, this year when my lease came due and I hesitantly resigned it, I noticed that they were raising my rent $25 a month. Hey, that's not that bad, but still...I've never been late, no improvements have been made at all, and I'm getting ready to enter the Arctic season. So, along with the lease I sent a letter saying that I didn't mind paying the rent, but I want something for my money. I want the porch painted, the ceiling fixed, and a few other little things. That was a month ago. I figured they just blew me off and laughed at my futile efforts while cashing my checks. Imagine my surprise when I came home the other day and found both things done.

Now, when I came home last weekend, I was on my way back out the door for the weekend to see Jimmy Buffett (AWESOME) and a ballgame (also a lot of fun). I came in to find the kitchen light on and some of the stuff from the top of my fridge on the counter. "Holy Shit! I've been robbed", I thought. But, then I thought "why would they move the stuff from my fridge if they were robbing me? And, if they were robbing me, why wouldn't they take my vintage Dukes of Hazzard lunch box including thermos?" I know, right? That's totally worth some big bucks. Well, at least $50. So, I started looking around. All of the pictures had been moved on the wall. All of the pitchers on the top of my cabinet had been moved. The dishes on the shelf of the cabinet had been moved. My sink mats had been moved. I almost passed out. I was due to leave in 30 mins. There's no way I could shower and fix all that stuff in 30 mins!!!! There's also NO way I could leave it like that til I was back home Sunday night. I'd never be able to relax at all. So, I set to straightening everything and wiping up the best part of the plaster dust and all that until the kitchen was almost back to normal. I left the actual scrubbing of everything until Monday. As long as everything was back in its place when I walked in Sunday night, I knew I'd be ok. I left the house an hour later. Crisis averted.

When OCD strikes its second blow

Also over the weekend, I watched "Southland Tales." It's not a bad movie. I think I would really enjoy it if I watched it again. It was fairly interesting and more than a little confusing at times. I watched some of the extra stuff after the movie (which I usually don't do because I don't like to hear people prattle on and on and on and on) looking for a little more, a little explanation, or something. Turns out it was supposed to be a comedy. Hmph! Well, I did laugh at some things and there were a few clever references in it, but just having comedic actors playing somewhat serious roles does not a comedy make. But, whatever. If they thought it was funny, it's their time and money invested in it, so who am I to say? Maybe I'm not smart enough to get it. It wouldn't be the first time. But, anyway, the thing that drove me nuts about it??? They took part of T.S. Eliot's "Hollow Men" as a refrain for the movie. Except they changed it. Grrrrr. Instead of "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper," they said "This is the way the world ends, not with a whimper, but a bang." I understand what they were doing, what with the movie and the plot and all that........but still. Still. Hmph. I don't know. I thought I'd get over it, but it's been bugging me all week. Now it's out there. It can bug you now. Or not. I don't care because I got it off of my chest finally.

And Comcast still hasn't responded about the damn channel volume level differences. Asses.

Off to tailgate at the University in the rain tomorrow! Rock on!

Product Review, Part the Something

2008-08-26T11:22:00.003-04:00

Say you're at the store and you're on a budget. You live alone and like to cook, but most days cooking a really good meal for one person is a big pain in the ass. You like meals that have a little of everything and consist of more than just opening a can. You grew up eating tv dinners and when you walk by them in the freezer aisle, you get a little nostalgic. Except you're nostalgic for being a kid and sitting in front of the tv on a Friday watching the Dukes of Hazzard, but whatever. Then, all of a sudden, you see it. The Hungry Man Dinners....on sale for $2 ea. They're apparently usually $4. I'll get to that in a minute.

So, now you're sitting at home. You got home a little later this evening and it's perfectly cloudy and cool outside so you sit on the porch and drink some beers. 6 later, and you're hungry, but you realize it's now 6:30. Well, hell. That's not time enough to thaw some meat and prepare a real meal. But, wait!!! What's that in the freezer?

Why, it's a Mexican Fiesta! Well, colour me happy! It even has some type of pudding dessert with it. Holy shit! Fire up that microwave, here I come!

If I just described ANY of your thought processes, please stop before you get to the meal in the picture. You'll thank me later.

I'm afraid to exhale heavily today.

This is vaguely creepy

2008-08-21T13:41:00.000-04:00

This article about Comcast monitoring the internet for people bitching about Comcast and then responding to said complaints (albeit helpfully) kinda creeps me out a bit.

That being said, I have Comcast cable and am wearing out the mute button on my remote. TBS and USA and sometimes TNT are broadcast at a lower volume than the rest of the stations, so I have to turn the tv way up to hear it (especially over the Stomp Olympics Qualifying upstairs). Then, when the commercials come on, there are, without fail, 2 in a row at some point in the break that blare out at a volume reminiscent of the old Maxell tape commercial with the guy in the chair being blown away by the sound.

I'm either gonna need a new remote, or someone at the local Comcast office needs to learn to operate the sound board a little better. I wonder if Comcast will notice this email...about Comcast.

By the way, I do like the turtle commercials.

This ain't Sesame Street.

2008-08-20T08:27:00.000-04:00

I have birds in my chimney. They must’ve built a nest in there over the summer and now the eggs are hatching. They’ve been raising hell for the past couple of days. I didn’t think much about it because I’m not planning on burning it this winter and I figured they’d get out on their own soon. Until last night. I was sitting on the couch and heard a tink-tink-tink noise….there was one on my fireplace screen. I almost shit myself. I stood staring at it in amazement for a little bit until I realized that I needed to catch it before it got outside of the screen and into the living room causing me to flail about wildly and knock things over either trying to catch it or trying to get away from it. Finally, I went to the kitchen and got a pot and a lid and went back to corral it into the pot. I eventually got it in there and then took it outside and tossed it free. You know, fighting off spiders in the house is one thing. Birds are a whole different story.

You can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning....

2008-08-18T09:56:00.002-04:00

Whew! What a Saturday! I'm glad to report that I managed to attend a big party Saturday and made it through without a) offending anyone (that I know of), b) falling into the pool, c) falling down in general. I even picked up a huge bag of trash before I left Sunday morning. And, while all this makes for boring blogging, it also testifies to the fact that I must be getting old.

My friends had a pig roast Saturday, and it was a blast. I saw a bunch of people, well a few, that I haven't seen in a long, long time. We caught up with each other, drank a pile of beer, and did some other stuff. I can't really remember a whole lot after my dominance at beer pong turned into what must've been just dumb luck. It could've happened right around the time that I decided a dance move that looked eerily like a seizure was necessary before each toss. I don't know. It was meant to psyche the other team out, but I'm not real sure it worked. Unless them laughing their asses off counts as psyching someone out. Then, later it got dark. By that I mean the sun went down too. I managed to find a cooler with community beer in it, so that qualified the evening as a success. I bedded down in the back of my truck with a sleeping bag, a blanket, and a pillow and woke up without bruises and scratches and the overwhelming sense of shame that can often come from being at a party where you don't know a lot of the people in attendance, so I wrote the night off as being all good. It was really, really good to see those guys again and get things on track.

In other news, DirecTV gave me the big piss off in their response to my email. I don't feel like arguing today so I haven't responded yet. Of course, the day's not over yet either.

Ebay will be the death of me. Or at least the financial ruin. All my Fiesta is replaced, along with a whole lot of new pieces too. Damn a good deal! Also, there's a XM boombox and car kit on its way to me this week. I know, right? Welcome to the 2000s. I hear that this is a new millennium. I used to have one a long time ago, but my tightness overruled my hatred of local radio. No more. And, my own cds? I need forced variety...at least the variety of stations that play mostly only music I like and may or may not already own somewhere in a scattered selection.

I'm not crazy at all. Really.

And, completing the Old Trifecta, how about this weather? For the past 2 weeks, it has felt like fall. I. LOVE. IT. Yesterday, I actually made a pot of chili. I was trying to reserve that for the first weekend of football, but I couldn't wait anymore. I don't want to wish time away, but is it the first weekend of September yet? I'm going to have to apologize to Netflix for dropping my account down to the minimum as my weekend viewing will now be full til January.

Oh, it's an exciting life.

City mouse vs. Country mouse

2008-08-14T07:29:00.003-04:00

Tell me why, again, people want to live in town? I mean, yeah, it's convenient to Things, the streets are kept relatively clear in the winter, there's activity and commotion and people to watch. There are also neighbors on top of you, shady characters up and down the street in front of your house, thumping bass at all hours drowning out your television from passing cars, trash, and about a million other things that try to push me to the brink of insanity. I've lived in town before, but it was a smaller, cleaner, quieter town. I wasn't much on that either, but figured if I could handle that, then surely the excitement of this place would outweigh the nuisances. Mostly, it does. Mostly, I think, because of my house itself. I like it there. It's comfortable and it fits me. I like the porch and the fact that since I have to have neighbors, at least it's only one set upstairs. I won't get into the fact that they're practicing for the newest Olympic event: Constant Stomping From One End Of the House To the Other.

Yesterday when I got home, I pulled in the driveway as usual, carried my groceries inside, and set about opening the windows. Nothing out of the ordinary. I opened a beer and flipped on the tv and glanced out my side window like I always do. That's when I saw it.

This is an approximation of what the side of my house looks like now. There were 2 old dishes left there by the previous tenants, but they weren't really a problem. They're out of sight from the window and perhaps they'll be of use at some point. However, DirecTV, in its infinite laziness, came and installed a new dish for the people upstairs. It's one of the new HD dishes that's approximately the size of a small car. And, it's right in front of the window. RIGHT. IN. FRONT. I could understand this if there weren't room anywhere else for it. This is not this situation. A mere two feet to the right of it is an entire side of the house with no windows at all. None. The other 2 dishes? They're placed where you can't see them because apparently whoever installed those took a moment to, oh I don't know, think about someone else and that that someone else may not want to look out upon this monstrosity every day. I want to write them a letter and make them come move it, but I know they won't. What do they care? They're getting their money from the people upstairs and don't give a damn about me, but it infuriates me. Not as much as plastic wrap, but close. Not the dish so much, rather the uncaring nature of people in general. Also? Now, because the people upstairs don't believe in throw rugs to muffle sound, I get to listen to Telemundo at top volume. It's awesome, I tell you. My dad was looking at a house out a little somewhere with a garage apartment. I don't want to be 34 and living at my dad's place, but it's looking a hell of a lot better.....

In the meantime though, perhaps I can decorate the dish so at least I have something to look at that's a little more pleasing.

One more virtue I don't have....

2008-08-04T12:10:00.003-04:00

Patience. Yep, I don't have any. I don't like to wait on things. I don't like when things that are simple and SHOULD go right, don't. I don't like stupid annoying little frustrating things that hover like gnats around your eyes and then either fly right into them or into your mouth or both.

You see, I haven't bought plastic wrap (saran wrap..whatever) for years. Years. Whenever I have something to wrap or save, I either use a dish or aluminum foil. It's just easier. And more expensive. So, in my frugality of late, I opted to spend $1.00 or so on plastic wrap rather than the $3 on foil. I know, I know. It's two bucks. Who gives a shit, right? Well, it's the principle of the thing. If the rest of the civilized world can get this plastic shit to stick to what it's supposed to and not to itself and itself only, then why can't I? I mean, it's not like I'm not an intelligent guy that can fix things and figure things out and solve problems. This plastic wrap shouldn't be that much of an issue.

Except it is.

Fast forward from that day (or rewind from this one, whichever you please) and find me in my kitchen after grilling hamburgers and consuming several Summer Ales (it's the Grains of Paradise that make this a truly tasty treat) preparing to wrap up the leftovers. I've attached a picture here to show the layout and to later provide a visual aid.

I'm standing directly in front of this cabinet at the stove with my back to said cabinet. It's 10 feet away or so, all the way across the kitchen. I'm wrapping these hamburgers and flailing about with the plastic wrap when I finally (after 2 wadded up balls of wrap) manage to get them into a bunch and a seemingly passable mess. That's when I pick up the package, and they slide out the back and onto the floor. The floor that I'd just cleaned that morning. And the grease residue? Down the front of my stove. The plastic wrap, however, managed to stay in exactly the same shape it was in before I picked up and perfectly stuck to absolutely nothing as its contents fall devil-may-care to the floor. I picked up the roll, undaunted, and tried again. 2 more wadded balls of nothing. All of a sudden, I went blind with rage at this wrap and sent it hurling behind me to the floor. Or where I thought the floor should be, which was apparently exactly where the pink gravy boat is sitting on the shelf of the cabinet. It broke (from the plastic wrap roll....really??) as did the black serving plate stacked under the blue plate behind it. 2 pieces of rather costly dinnerware are now broken due to my saving of $2. I can't blame this on irrational anger or beer or no patience, really, because I gave that damnable wrap every chance to perform correctly. Or perhaps it was performing correctly...in its uselessness. Needless to say, the wrap is going in the trash and I'm buying foil again. And, now, $40 or so in replacement dishes. Those dishes rarely, if ever, get used, so I don't need to replace them, but they mean more to me than that. They're representations of a new time in my life (or an older one revisited maybe) and a time in that I didn't think I got that damned mad anymore (apparently I was wrong), so, I'm going to suck it up and buy other ones (although apparently the pink is rare now because it's entirely too expensive on the old ebay) and use it as a reminder and a lesson learned. I just wish I would've learned the lesson on a cheaper beer glass or something. I should send the plastic wrap company a letter and a bill, but it won't do any good. Rest assured, however, that there will never, ever be plastic wrap in my house again. Ever. I won't even let someone else bring theirs in. I'm mad now, just thinking about it. Damn you Glad/Saran/Generic plastic people. Damn you to hell.

yesterday, today, and tomorrow

2008-07-29T11:40:00.001-04:00

Is a man the sum of memories and deeds or is he the sum of experience and lessons learned? Are the two different? Vastly, I should think. The first seems to lend no forgiveness or redemption. The second promises hope in some type of a better future.

Or, is this the same semantic battle for justification I’ve been fighting my whole life? The prettying up of ugliness? A mule in a horse harness?

Is life one turn of a phrase away from good or bad? With the right phrasing can the balance swing? Is there ever really a balance anyway, or is that an illusion from our childhood that we’re still holding to?

Lucky there's a family guy....

2008-07-25T13:01:00.000-04:00

This is my first weekend at home in 2 weeks. That's not a big deal, right? I mean, most people do things outside of their home most weekends, don't they? Most people don't savor the time spent sitting on the porch and cursing at the troublesome neighborhood people and watching shitty television all weekend, do they? I mean, I do, but normal people don't. Right? Anyway, so being gone for 2 weeks and now getting to stay home and enjoy the peace and quiet and warm, summer days comes as a welcome reward. You know why? I spent the last 2 weekends with my family. My family. I live far enough away to discourage frequent visits. And, not only did I spend 2 weekends with my mother, but I also got to see some extended family too. Woo. Hoo. Why is it when you see someone in your family that you haven't seen in awhile, they have to comment on your appearance? Your hair, your weight, your clothes, something? I hadn't been at my uncle's for 20 mins. before he made a comment about me gaining weight. Well, uncle, as you can see in your mirror, beer is not the same as a diet pill. I know, right? I keep believing that they'll invent it one day, and I don't want to miss my chance. So, yeah.

My mom lives in the mountains. I love it there. I grew up there. Their house is awesome. My stepdad is awesome. My mom is the sweetest person in the world, really she is. She has a great heart. BUT. BUT, she needs to get out more. You see, out here in the real world, there are other things to worry about besides flies, what time we're having dinner, how many beers we've had, what we're going to have for breakfast, the internet, gas prices, the digital television conversion next year and whatever the newest paranoia of plagues that the television news is spewing forth 86 fucking times a day. Yeah, out here we worry about other stuff. Life. Out here we worry about things like hoping traffic's not bad so my beer's not warm by the time I get home from the store, do I really need to eat tonight because I don't feel like cooking AND washing dishes, having to do laundry because I'm out of underwear and socks, will the rabbit come back this evening or did he get in the neighbor's garden and get hurt, etc., etc. I mean, this is serious stuff man. But, the beauty of out here in my world? No Drama. None. When drama calls, I hang up on that shit. My mom worries about everything. Everything. I feel bad for her really because I don't know how she gets to sleep at night. She asked me at one point if there was anything I cared about or worried about when we were sitting out on the porch. I looked around and leaned out so I could see that the sky was perfectly blue and said "nope, not really, because it doesn't do any damned good at all." She didn't get it, I don't think. I couldn't imagine living that way. My friend and I were talking about it at work the other day and we realized that 95% of the people around us and that we interact with on a regular basis are like that. No wonder I'm frazzled and grouchy most of the time! Hey, world, it's not me it's YOU.

I think, in celebration of my reunion with my porch, I'm going to grill some stuff and take myself to the movies tomorrow. And possibly wash my truck. I hate washing a vehicle, but it needs to be done because I hate looking dirty more. If I still lived at home in the mountains and drove places that got a vehicle dirty, I wouldn't mind so much. But, no. I live in town. Hellish town. Therefore, my truck should be clean dammit. Also I might scrub the walls in the bathroom. I don't know why. They look like they need it and it's been on my mind. Maybe I have too much time alone after all.......

Really? or, the way my world turns

2008-07-11T07:30:00.002-04:00

I go to an auction with my dad every Thursday night. Mostly, we go so we can go out to eat beforehand. But, once in awhile there's a treasure to be had or resold, and there's always a more than a few people to make fun of, so it's a good time. And, that's where my nemesis Junk Man is, so that's a plus. Although lately, he's been kicking my ass. Stupid economy. Stupid old people with pocketfuls of money.

Anyway, so last night, we're standing outside smoking and enjoying our coffee when I hear "I'll give you $20 for that shirt." I looked around and saw this old woman standing there and figured that she must really like Chris Knight. I laughed and told her "Sorry, I paid $20 for it and don't know if I can get another one." She kept on and on and on til the price got to $35. At this point, I'm seriously considering going home and changing shirts and bringing this one back. I mean, I'm all about the Benjamins, you know. So, I'm standing there mulling it over and I tell her that for $35 up front, I'll go home and be back in 10 mins with the shirt. Hells yeah. And NOW is the point in the story where it all goes to hell and you get a glimpse into my life. She looks right at me and says "Ah, you figured me out. I just wanted you to take your shirt off." I thought I would die. And puke simultaneously. You see, a) I'm not in the shape I used to be in (or I would've done it anyway) and b) this woman was over 60 and missing teeth. I'll give you a minute to let point B set in. Just to catch you up, I'm 34. Got it? Good. My dad was standing there. My dad, who at that point says "For $35, I'll take it off of him by force." I looked at him and said "You can shut the hell up now."

I don't think I've ever smoked a cigarette so quickly in my life. Not even when we used to sneak them in the bathrooms in high school.

I mean, is this what I can expect for the rest of my life?

I'm joining a monastery. Tonight.

Charity begins at home

2008-07-08T13:27:00.002-04:00

You know what really pisses me off?

Oh, wait.

I'll tell you. Don't wear yourself out making a mental list. You don't have that much time.

I went to the store Thursday (a day early due to the holiday) and loaded up on the usual stuff, counting my pennies as I pushed the cart around looking ever so single in my food choices, and pulled up to the checkout. I was trying to sneak the extra case of beer that I left in my cart through (because sometimes you can and fuck them they shouldn't be charging that much for it anyway) when the manager walks by and reminds the cashier to ring it up. You bastard. Then, as I'm bagging my own groceries (just as well since no one can do it right anymore anyway), the cashier has the gall to ask me if I want to donate a dollar to whatever idiot organization that has the little jugs out at all the registers. For all I know it was send monkey-faced kids to space camp or some shit like that (although that I might actually pay to see) but I didn't hear any of that. All I heard was Rage (that's right, capital R) filling up my head. I'm pretty sure I channeled Carl from Sling Blade at that point. "I just saw red" I kept bagging while looking right at the cashier and said "Why no, I wouldn't. It's bad enough that Food Lion (yes, I'm calling you assholes out) charges me ridiculous prices for the same things I was buying a month ago and can get elsewhere cheaper except I don't want to make a hundred stops on the way home and I'm bagging my own shit, but then you want me to give another dollar for something that I'm pretty sure never gets where it's going? haha! Good luck with that. For all the money I spend in here every week, Food Lion can pony up my dollar's worth and be happy to do it." She just laughed and kept ringing stuff. I hope that prick manager heard too. And, I hope the monkey faced kids don't get to go to space camp because I totally would've given a dollar if they'd have let that beer slide through.

Sometimes, the truth doesn't hurt.

2008-06-25T10:47:00.002-04:00

It's that time again, ain't it Harley?

2008-06-12T11:08:00.002-04:00

Today we're going with a bullet list because I don't feel like being coherent.

The temperatures are back to normal now. This is nice. I did, however, buy an a/c for my bedroom Monday evening. Last night I had to sleep with a blanket on. It seriously feels like a wonderful little motel room in there. Except cleaner. I hope.

I've been reading more lately. It's nice to get back into it again. I go through spells where I don't pick up a book for awhile and I always wander around bored and grouchy. Then when I start reading again, I feel better. I don't know why I stop. I guess so I can appreciate it more when I start back up. Kind of like a lot of things I guess.

This weekend is the Huge Community Yard Sale. Let me tell you how bad I hate this thing. It's an entire day (starting Friday evening and/or around 5 a.m. Saturday morning...yes, 5 a.m. ) of people driving, walking, bargaining, stopping in the middle of the road to see if there's anything worth stopping for, and generally being assholes. It's a joy, I tell you. A joy.

That being said, yours truly will be out there with a little table set up of things I don't need anymore and hate to sell but have to because I need the money for stuff. The first person that tries to haggle me down from my marked price is getting cussed. Really. It's a dollar, numb nuts. Deal with it. I'll throw it right the fuck away before I give it to you for less.

In that vein, does anyone out there or anyone you know need some motorcycle leathers???? I have everything you need. And, everything must go. The prices are negotiable (honestly) on everything except the leather jacket. I have chaps, leather pants, a leather shirt (great for your inbetween temperature days or a surprising rainstorm), a denim jacket complete with a $30 patch, and a HD jacket that I paid nearly $400 for. The jacket I want $200 for. Everything else we can talk about. Or, we can talk about that too if you want some other stuff. Hell, I just need the money. Everything is an XL. I can't remember what the pants are, but I think I only wore them twice (yes, with longjohns underneath) and they're still as soft as they were when they were new. As is the jacket. It still, in fact, smells new. Email me if you're interested and we'll strike a deal.

I hate to sell that stuff. Memories, you know. Time, money, experiences invested in it all. An entirely different life, a different lifestyle, now so long gone. It feels like decades ago. And, I kinda miss that guy. He and I would get along famously now, though. But, still. His was a more hectic, simpler world. Mine's simpler, but more hectic if that makes sense. I don't know. I think, though, that I NEED to get rid of it and hopefully that'll help ease some of these lingering ghosts....maybe. If not, at least I have some cash. And I can buy new things to distract myself.

While you're buying, don't forget to check out my book.....

And, lastly, a picture of me at the ballgame. I'm not putting this up here so you can marvel at my beauty. I'll wait, though, while you do that. I'm putting it up there to see if you can notice the rare, hardly seen in public thing in the picture.

Yes, that's a FREE BEER I'm holding at the ball park.

I meant to do that.....

2008-06-04T11:27:00.002-04:00

Last weekend, my buddy and I took off to Baltimore to watch the Orioles play the Red Sox. He was the only Oriole fan in our whole hotel I think. And, at the Inner Harbor. But, everyone was really nice to him and didn't throw things at him. In anticipation of both the crowds and our overpowering thirst after having driven for 3 hours in torrential rains and bumper to bumper traffic, we tossed the bags into our room and jumped on the train to head over to the stadium. Score 1 for Baltimore's light rail system. On the way, we encountered a crazy man that was entirely "discombobulated" by "all these white people on my train." For 15 minutes, he went on and on about "what are all these white people on my train? Must be a ballgame today or something." No, really? You're surrounded by a train full of people in Boston apparel. You live in Baltimore, home of the Orioles. How in the hell do you not know that there's a game? I guess, though, if you're discombobulated, the days all run together.

After we left crazy man arguing with the Transit Cop, we herded across the street and headed down to the Harbor to get a cold beer or 12. And when I say herded, I mean it. There must've been a thousand people pushing and grunting across the street. Anyway, we walk like 100 miles or something and we could smell food from all the restaurants we're passing and all I want is a cold beer and possibly some wings and I'm ready to choke the next person that stops in front of me to take a picture of a ship that's been there forever and will still be there in the next 10 seconds, so let me the fuck by lady. Weeding through the crowd like some sort of shape-shifting predators, we made it to the end of the line. My friend thought we'd try the ESPN Zone. Neither of us had ever been in, but we'd seen it on tv, so what the hell, right? I stood in line at the bar for 10 minutes. For my first beer. As a matter of fact, right before I reached over and popped the head off of the bartender, 2 seats at the bar opened up. I yelled his name a couple of times and growled at encroachers, and we were seated. Finally..... And, from then on, the experience improved. Slacky The Bartender left, and Hottie the bartender stepped up. Not only was she cute, she was efficient. I think I fell in love just a little. And, the cheese fries were awesome. Of course, I hadn't eaten since 9 that morning and it was now after 5. A few beers later, we were tired of being jostled around in our seats, so we set off like all great explorers in search of a new bar stool we could call our very own.

I'm a sucker for a pub (shut up, Captain Obvious) and lo and behold (!) there we were right in front of one, up on the second story (up a periously twisty staircase...that was probably 6 feet or more wide and steel, but whatever) with a great view of the harbor when I walked outside to smoke. And ?! 2 seats right at the bar, right in front of the taps, right in front of the television. The bartenders were friendly, it was quiet, and we could watch the evening game right there from our comfortable seats. Rock on! An undetermined amount of time passed, the game ended, and we figured we'd better catch the train before it stopped running. Back up the 100 mile street and we finally caught the third train from the stadium. They may think about maybe adding a couple cars to the train on game days. I'm pretty sure that lady didn't like me rubbing up against her with every bump in the road. Or maybe she did. Hell, I don't know. I think she minded less once the train started moving, though.

Ah, Sunday.......game day. I'm up like a kid at Christmas. This was my first professional game ever. I make noise and flip channels on the tv til my friend gets up and we head out for the train at 10. Um, yeah. It doesn't start running til 11. Fuckers. It's a 1:30 game. The earlier I get there, Baltimore, the more money I'll spend. Trust me. Anyway, 11 comes and we jam on the train so close that I can tell what people had for breakfast. But, we're on the way to the game, right? 2 guys behind us were talking about how they hated these days and if he'd have known there was a game he wouldn't have ridden the train (again, how do you not know?) and how he didn't buy a ticket anyway because they were too expensive. Sorry that $3 is killing you, man.

Pile out at the stadium, wait for the gates to open, hit the first beer stand in sight, and we're underway! My college paid for a picnic for us (the ticketholders/alumni) in the Bullpen area (if you ever get to do this, go for it!) so we went in and got our food and found seat and started looking around. Here's where the story gets good. Beer count = 2. I look up from my seat and what do my eyes see before me? Taps unencumbered by a cash register!!! Were they really giving me free beer for an hour and a half and lunch all for $22?? I may have found heaven right here. Let the day commence, eh? So, we walk around and look around and watch the players warm up from right above the bullpen (see what they did with the name there? ha!) and drank these free beers. It was awesome. I would've loved to have been able to watch the game from there, but that was not to be. 1:15 arrived ....and off to the nosebleed section. Beer count = 9.

We're up in left center, nearly at the top. I can see everything. Well, everything except the players, really, but I can make out the difference between the white dots and the gray dots. Meanwhile, the concession stand is right under our seats...with no line. ha! Here we go again. Manny hits homerun 501 and there are some other good plays and I can't get my camera ready in time to take a picture of this one girl in a really small tank top, but eh, what're you gonna do? The pile of bottles under our seats is growing and it's hot as hell, like Africa hot, up there. The game is fun. I love watching it on tv, but if I had the chance to go to a live game every week, I'd be all over it! Especially if I could sit up close. Beer count = I have no idea. I'm guessing that I'm nearing 15 or 18 by now.

We herd back out of the stadium and in search of food with a million other people. Hey, I said, let's go back to the pub and eat there. We're filing along the street all asshole and elbow with a million people when the sidewalk narrows. (If you made it this far, congratulations. This is the good shit) There's a curb or a flowerbed or something in front of me blocking my way. No problem, I think, because I can jump right up on that and keep walking. I'll wait while you laugh to yourselves. I think it was 6 or 10 inches off the ground. I lifted my foot approximately 1 to 2 inches and went right at it. See, in my mind, it looked good. Smooth. I was gonna kick this curb's ass. Little did I know that the curb was calling in reinforcements from its friends, flowerbed and sidewalk. In reality, it looked like I hit it, rolled on top of it, kept moving, and then rolled off onto the sidewalk effectively blocking the way of all the million people I was walking with. I hit it hard, rolled, and then fell onto the sidewalk and was laughing so hard I couldn't get up. My friend couldn't help me for laughing at me. Finally some nice guy helped me up and we were on our way. Thankfully nothing got broken (either on me or the camera) but I did get a nice scrape on my arm out of it. And everybody in Baltimore got a good laugh. And everybody at work yesterday also got a good laugh. I'm surprised my friend didn't call them right then.

We had dinner at the pub and a couple more beers and managed to make it back to the train without further incident. It's rumoured that I almost stepped on a homeless man that looked eerily like the lead singer of The Spin Doctors, but I don't believe that. I don't remember seeing him. So, obviously, I'm right. Beer count = I can't keep up anymore. I know it's still early and I'm out of money, though.

A free breakfast the next morning, some gas in the car, and we're back home by noon. Oh, what a weekend. I can't wait to do it again! Except maybe this time without all the falling. At least by me.

Helpful, handy hints from me to you.

2008-05-29T11:09:00.003-04:00

1. If you're cutting hot peppers and have to go to the bathroom, wash your hands before you go. Just sayin'. I mean, you know this and I know this and have gone over it a hundred times. But, like with math and sexual harrassment seminars, a refresher course never hurt anyone.

2. That nail that's worked its way up out of the floor? The one that you know where it is so you always avoid it? Yeah, go ahead and take 2 seconds to get the hammer and tap it back down. It's 2 seconds vs. jumping and spilling your beer when you don't avoid it.

3. That neighbor that's a little creepy and wants to talk and sometimes borrow money? Don't. Better he thinks that you're a nutjob that hates people (score!) than for him to be over all the time.

4. When you're drinking, hide your phone and your checkbook/credit cards/check cards. This handy tip could save you making an ass of yourself or spending money you don't need to. That person that you think is just dying to hear from you after you've been drinking all evening and they're just getting home from work couldn't really give a shit about the intricacies of The Andy Griffith Show. And the chip maker from the informercial is a piece of garbage.

5. When someone says "hey, do you mind if I stop by? I've some things I want to talk about." Go ahead here and be busy. Have an excuse or 3 ready. Talking seriously about stuff never got anyone anywhere.

6. Always keep quick meals in your freezer and macaroni and cheese on your shelf.

7. Always keep ice cream in your freezer.

8. Stop on the way home and buy beer whether you think you need it or not. You either do or you will.

9. Just because new people moved in upstairs from you, don't keep the stereo down lower than normal. Break them in right off the bat. Besides, they'll either stomp around half the evening or their kids will run fucking laps in the house for 2 hours straight. Turn it up. If you have a subwoofer, even better.

10. At work, carry stuff around with you all the time and look mad. I think George Costanza said this once. I can't remember now. But, really. It works. It keeps people from bothering you or asking you if you just have one second to look at something.

That's all for now, kids. Feel free to add to the list. Like G.I. Joe said, knowing is half the battle.

Ask me if I care....

2008-05-22T07:55:00.003-04:00

There's a lady and her family that live across the street from where I work. They work in the yard nearly every day. All day. And have been for the past year or so. Granted, their yard looks wonderful....but, really? I stand outside at break (or at random points throughout the day) and watch in what has to be total amazement. I've had yards. I've worked in them. I've planted trees, mowed, pulled weeds, etc. But, all day? Nearly every day? Is this what normal people do? I wonder what it's like to care about something that much, to be so motivated by something and consumed by an end goal that never really arrives. Some people, I've heard, find yard work relaxing. My dad's one of them. Relaxing to me is not sweating my balls off and swatting gnats and flies and bees all day. Sorry, dad. It's just not. It is also not painting (either inside or out) or *gasp* running/jogging. Give me a cold beer and some good music (company preferred, but optional) and I'm good to go. In light of this revelation, and since the 80s revival is in full swing it seems (I suppose it still is. I also don't Keep Up With Things.) I've developed a new Care Bear concept that I think will sell to adults and be very popular. You know how some of them had hearts and rainbows and all that flowery shit? Well, not this one buddy. This is the beginning of a series I think. We'll call them Don't Care Bears and they'll signify the things that are really on men's minds.

Behold my brilliance.....

I think the next few in the series will include strippers, midgets, and balloons....

Love in the checkout line

2008-05-09T08:35:00.000-04:00

Today's Friday....the best day all week. Well, except for Saturday. Saturday kicks Friday's ass because I can wake up whenever I want and then go lay on the couch and go back to sleep and not shower til later in the morning and start drinking beer whenever I damn well feel like it. Sidenote: Dear FOX: Put the Saturday baseball games on at 1:00 please. Thank you.

Anyway, back to Friday. Not only is Friday the last day of the workweek, it is also my grocery "shopping" day. Or, as it's otherwise known, "The day I try to get the girl ringing up my purchases to pity me and come over to cook for me and hook up." You see, I'm a simple man. I live alone. I love to cook but don't get too excited about it when it's just me there. So, my staple items are pretty standard stuff. In fact, I don't ever need a list when I go to the store. 2 cases of Miller High Life (or something more expensive if I'm feeling froggy), 2 frozen pizzas, random other frozen stuff, and eggs (sometimes), bread and cheese, and whatever is close to the checkout and is on sale. It's quite the cartload, believe me. I mean, really, I can't believe she's not throwing herself at me in a lusty frenzy over my obvious culinary mastery. But, whatever. She's probably gay.

But, this leads me to another point. (good thing, eh? Because grocery shopping is actually more boring to read about than do. Who would've guessed?)

Prices. Everyone's bitching about gas and all that..... Yeah, yeah. I mean, what can you do about that? Not drive? Ride a bicycle everywhere you go? Stay home from work in protest? Hell yeah. I'd love to do all that. Unfortunately, it's not feasible, so I suck it up at the pump every week.

Nay, nay. I'm talking about something more important. I'm talking about the fact that frozen pizzas have jumped over a dollar in price in the past 2 weeks and a case of cheap beer is now like $12 or more (depending where you go). Now, Mr. President, this is serious shit. I mean, it's one thing that our wonderful economy has taken a huge shit all over us and hours are being cut at work and people are being laid off. It's another thing that we can't afford to drive to work AND eat lunch. But, when you start fucking with a man's staple food items, we've got a serious problem. And, I'm pissed. I mean, even the cardboard cheap pizzas that I wouldn't hit a dog in the ass with are "on sale" for $1 each. $1, really? They surely haven't improved since I used to buy them in college 15 years ago for .50. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're EXACTLY the same. They might even be worse. Screw Exxon and Mobil and all those guys. Let's talk about the Digiorno and Miller Brewing price gouging. That's it. I'm calling a congressional investigation on this fiasco. Thanks for your help.

In other news, we had tornado warnings around here last night. That's just weird considering that I live in a valley in the mountains and not in the midwest. More importantly, however, is that these warnings interruped "My Name Is Earl" (which I normally don't watch on its regular night). The reason I'm mad about that? Alyssa Milano was on there. Dammit! From what I could see, she was looking deliciously trailer-y and hot as all hell. But, did I get to watch it? No! Instead I got to watch the local weather guy trying to figure out how to use his new fancy technology to zoom in on storm areas and then get too close and then fumble fuck around trying to zoom back out. Beautiful, I tell you. NBC, I'm calling you out too.

Despite all this, I'm SO glad it's Friday. Even if I have to forego some usual items. Because I refuse to drink any cheaper than the High Life. In fact, I could be considered a Certified Purveyor of The High Life. That is, if you want to come over and have a beer on the porch. Have a good weekend!

Totally Awesome Chip Review, Part The Third

2008-05-07T10:01:00.003-04:00

Guess what, kids? Your favourite offering here is back!!! From time to time, the Snack Guy leaves out freebies on the breakroom table that are getting ready to expire. Not one that fears an expired food, I quickly fill my desk drawer with these goodies for the days where I inevitably forget my lunch.

You may remember the Gangsta Bee.

And, also there was the Oozing Wing.

Today, I bring you the Holiest of Holies.

Cheddar Jalepeno Cheetos. Not only has Chester the Cheetah matured in his commercials, going from the insanely cheese (crack) addicted lunatic that he began as to the glasses wearing sophisticate that is a proponent for screwing up a bitch's laundry, but his flavour has evolved as well. I mean, I totally would've thrown some orange-y goodness in with that woman's whites.

And, the packaging? Brilliant. Let's analyze it, shall we?

First, we have Chester in a cowboy hat and sunglasses. Well, jalapenos are southwesterny and grow in the sun.

Second, he's roping one. With his tail. See what they did there? Yee-haw I say!

And they're marketed as being "crunchy" because no one likes a soggy cheeto.

I recommend these, pardner. Giddy up!

meditate on THIS......

2008-05-01T07:47:00.001-04:00

And, don't forget this other literary masterpiece.....

that's how I roll.......

2008-04-28T07:56:00.000-04:00

I went. I fished. I drank. I coughed. I drank some more. I fished. I coughed. I ate wonderful breakfasts. I saw things I'd never seen before. I forgot my camera. Dammit.
This is a picture I snagged from Google of where we spent Friday and Saturday fishing. You just drive out on the beach and park. And drink. And you have the best part of the place to yourself. It's totally unreal. The lighthouse doesn't sit on the shore anymore. They moved it about a mile or so back a few years ago because the beach was eroding. Yeah. Moved it. The whole lighthouse. At one time. Well, over the course of a long time, but still.....That's damn impressive. Anyway, I have never had the beach pretty much to myself ever. It was amazing.

The first day I found PERFECT shells. The conch shells that you only ever find pieces of. And there were no fish. But, there were lots of beers.
The second day there were no shells ( a different part of the beach) but there were lots of fish. Well, a bunch of sand sharks and one for real, honest to god, shark. I don't know what kind it was, but it was about 3.5-4 feet long with real, pointy shark teeth. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. Pictures? No, apparently the convenience stores in NC don't believe in disposable cameras either. Oh well, hopefully this fall we'll see some more because you can bet I'm taking my camera then!!!!

It had to be this week, didn't it?

2008-04-24T11:11:00.002-04:00

I'm supposed to be leaving for the beach for the weekend today at 3:30. That would put us at Hooters having pitchers of beer and dinner and almost there by 7ish. It's supposed to be 70 degrees or more there all weekend. The house is free. The beer may or may not be on ice right now. The problem? I'm sick. And so is my friend that's going along. And, we have been. All. Week. I mean, all week...really? Who in the hell has a fever for 4 days? I'm going back and forth today between feeling like chugging 3 or 4 pitchers and curling up under my desk and dying...or passing out...and not in that good way that I would probably be feeling later this weekend. We've been planning this and looking forward to it since January. I LOVE the beach. I don't, however, think I would love feeling like I did this morning when I woke up and being 5 hours away from home. On someone else's couch. I don't know. It irritates me because I'll bust my ass to get to work regardless of how I feel, but I'm actually considering passing on this trip because I feel like hell and all I want to do is lay around. Does that make sense? I mean, am I nuts? I should go anyway and hope that I'll get better. Otherwise, I know that I'll start to feel better tomorrow afternoon anyway and it'll be too late to go........Of course, if I didn't get better while I was there, it would be a cheap trip. Damn being sick.......

I'm bored...humour me.

2008-04-14T10:33:00.000-04:00

I have flowers growing in my back yard. I first thought they were weeds, albeit pretty purple ones, but weeds nonetheless. There are a lot of them and they were left when the mower came the other day. Saturday, I picked one to smell it because the bees are very fond of them. They’re hyacinths (I think that’s what they’re called, anyway) and smell lovely. But, because they don’t get the morning sun, they’re barely blooming. I wish I could bolster them, but hopefully this means that they’ll last a lot longer than the ones in my neighbor’s yard that are fully blossomed.

I also have one lone tulip that opened to the day Saturday. A striking red, it is. I thought it might be a daffodil last month.

My gardening knowledge knows no bounds, apparently.

Sometimes I go to the bar in the evenings when I have nothing to do. I usually go by myself as my friend(s) usually have other Normal Things to occupy their weeknights with. I sit in mostly the same spot and am generally recognized, but rarely talk to anyone there. Sometimes idle chat ensues, and sometimes I carry it on. Sometimes I sit and listen and talk to the people that no one else will listen to either out of fear of asking for money or a latching onto that sometimes occurs with regular folk like that. I don’t care. I think everyone deserves to be listened to once in awhile. Hopefully one day, someone will listen to me when I’m old and sitting there (probably on the same stool) and haven’t spoken a thought out loud within earshot of another person in weeks.

I sit at work and look at awards and certificates and other random paperwork and wonder where the last 8 years of my life have gotten to. Would the Me that started this job in 2000 recognize the Me that’s sitting here now? What happened to the Dream I was chasing when I started? A house, a family, a less stressful career, etc., etc. Somewhere in between starting to care too much about work and not enough about Important Things and alleviating boredom at work and at home, I lost sight of a lot of things. I suppose that happens to most people, though, and takes a lot of conscious effort everyday to not do so. Apparently, though, no one around me learns by example, only by doing…much to my dismay and theirs, eventually I’m sure.

I want another tattoo. I don’t need any more. But, I want 3 more smallish ones. Now. I wish I knew what was going to happen with the economy and gas prices and all that bullshit. I mean, I know what I think is going to happen which should make me want to horde my money. It, however, does not. It pisses me off and makes me want to buck the system. I’m no longer the rebel that I once was. I am, though, still paying for that rebel’s dumbass expenditures.

People, I have noticed lately, say less disparaging things to/about me (at least that I can hear). This is a good thing. But, I’m not sure why at the same time. I have it narrowed down to 3 things I think.
1. They figure that I don’t care and am not going to listen anyway.
2. They fear that I’m going to go batshit crazy at any moment and they don’t want to be the one to push me over the edge.
3. Maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right track and it’s obvious for once.

Spring brings out the wanderer in me, but not as much as fall. Spring makes me want to seek out new places to live and new things to do. I’m too chicken to go anywhere or do anything different though. I guess I always have been to some degree. I feel like I’m under The Man’s thumb and am not quite sure how to break that mode of thinking.

In 1992, I had one of the best spring seasons that I can remember. Everything just seemed to click. And, riding that euphoria into the summer, I promptly screwed up big time. There’s a pattern here. Trust me.

I’m glad I went to college and remember the best part of it fondly. Sometimes I feel like I should push myself to use it more.

I’m incredibly bored at work. Can you tell?

Don't forget to go buy this.

Just another day at the office

2008-04-10T09:13:00.003-04:00

I recently introduced my co-worker and friend to g-chat. Following is an excerpt of this morning's conversation.

me: jesus...the turtle's got her spring outfit on today.i'm going to puke
Sent at 8:28 AM on Thursday

coworker: nooooooooooooo

me: oh yes. wait til she comes out there.it's making me rethink this whole "skirt season" thing.

coworker: do really have comcast cause its so much faster??!!

me: who wants some more pot roast?

coworker: you push it....push it real good

me: if she were to back that thing up, it'd need a beeper.

coworker: ok im coming to check it out

me: baha ok

coworker: it looks like bread rising around a piece of twine

me: i'm so not eating lunch now, fucker.

oh, and don't forget to buy this book

Spring?

2008-04-01T06:44:00.000-04:00

My calendar tells me that it's April 1. It also says that Spring started on March 20. There have been a few warm days that, like me, want to believe this written word. The flowers that are struggling through the rain and wind and cold nights are believing it too. Maybe I should believe like they do and instinctively know that it's time to push my head up and bloom, regardless of what's going on around me.

Hey, don't forget to go HERE and buy this book.......

This is probably a mistake....

2008-03-17T07:36:00.001-04:00

Ok, here you go.

Now that I've blown what little anonymity I had, go here to buy this masterpiece. And tell all your friends. And write reviews. And feel free to generally blow smoke up my ass. If you don't like it, well then, you can go ahead and keep those comments to yourself. hahaha! No really, I'll take all criticisms good and bad.
Thanks guys

March is the Best. Month. Ever.

2008-03-14T07:20:00.000-04:00

What? You don't think so? Please, allow me to demonstrate why this is the greatest month all year.

1. The weather's getting warmer (albeit a little slowly).

2. There's more daylight in the evenings.

3. Today, there's a Holiday.

4. Tomorrow, there's my birthday.

5. Tomorrow, there's also another Holiday.

6. Monday, there's St. Patrick's Day (my calendar says it, so THERE.)

7. Spring starts next week.

8. I'm off next Friday.

9. Did I mention Spring already?

10. Daffodils.

So, there you have it.

Happy March!!

Dumbass, party of one?

2008-03-12T06:13:00.000-04:00

Let me tell you what I did yesterday.......

Without going into too much detail about what I do for a living, because no one really cares (hell, I don't care most of the time), I have a big machine that essentially develops metal plates for printing. This machine has to be turned on and properly warmed up for 25 minutes every morning (sounds like a girl I used to know) before any actual work can be done. Yesterday, I come in and go through the usual routine except there's no display on the control panel. Nothing. I can hear a fan running, so I know that it's trying to run, but it won't come on. So, I sit and curse at it for 2 hours until the techs come in and I can call them. At noon, a service guy shows up. Wonderful!!! About 45 minutes later, he had it running again. The problem? I must've hit the emergency stop button first thing in the morning, thereby killing all power to the machine. He reset the button and off we went. Oops.

Why, yes, I would like fries with that.

2008-03-05T11:31:00.000-05:00

Once more in my futile attempt to understand society and its "norms," I took advantage today of the "buy 1 jalapeno burger, get 1 free" coupon that I got in the mail last week. No, I didn't eat both of them. I don't have a deathwish. Yet. I gave the other one to a friend at work. Anyway, I get up at 4 a.m. By 10 a.m., I'm 1/2 way through my day. Do you know what happens at most people's midpoints in their day? Yep. Lunch. So, having been taught the vaulable lesson of the difference between 10 and 10:30 in the fast food world, I waited. And waited. My stomach was trying to eat my backbone. But, I understand that Breakfast is served until 10:30, at which point I can only assume all the leftover biscuits and sausages and "eggs" magically transform into stale fries and hamburgers. Hey, you only have to tell me that once. Or maybe twice, even though I know it's an argument I won't win. I once ordered lunch at 10:20 and they told me that I would have to wait until they finished with breakfast before I could get my order. 10 minutes. My response? "No problem, start cooking it now as I'm always in this damned line for 15 minutes anyway." That went over like a turd in a punch bowl. One other time? I asked for some of those lovely diced onions that only McDonald's has to be put on my sausage biscuit. She said, "we don't have those for breakfast." To which I replied "you mean, you don't have any in the whole restaurant and at 10:30, Wells Fargo brings them in or something?" Also not received well. So, imagine my surprise today when I showed up at the drive thru at 10:27, fully expecting to be shot down. This time, however, was different. After a lot of delay and some serious questioning by the clerk to her manager (really, I'm not making that up), it was decided that yes I could have a burger. The time at this point? 10:31. Time that I pulled out of the parking lot....10:45. I guess today really is my lucky day -- in some perverse parallel universe I'm guessing.

finally something to post....

2008-03-03T10:24:00.001-05:00

I've been at a loss for something to post about recently. I can't decide if that's good, bad, or boring. I'm going with good because it means I'm not bitching about anything :-P

Nina tagged me to do this book thingy...

Directions: pick up the nearest book. Open to page 123. Type the fifth sentence on the page.

"One acquires important knowledge in the dwelling place of another generation."

Go, ahead, tag yourselves and let me know all about it :-) I promise you won't go blind from it.

no more yanky my wanky, Donger needs food

2008-02-19T09:10:00.003-05:00

Sixteen Candles was on last night. Yes, I watched it. Most of it with the sound down because I was listening to an awesome cd that I can't remember the title of right now. Yes, it was that good. But, I digress. I'm a sucker for the 80s movies and know most of them by heart. I don't know why really. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that the actors were almost the same age as I was at the time, and I lived in a podunk town with little to no adventures and these kids were having parties and bonding in detention and stealing panties and having romantic interludes as only adolescents can. It was like a public journal of awkwardness and it was nice not to feel alone. Movies these days don't do that. They promote the good looking, cool kids who are just the right weight with the perfect hair and perfect skin. And, while I think overall that the kids today are better looking than they were 20 years ago, that's still not fair to all the kids who aren't exceptionally beautiful and/or rich and/or talented and/or whatever farce Hollywood is promoting in its latest "effort." Life's normal and plain and boring 90% of the time. Especially when you're living at home and have a curfew and chores. It's supposed to be. It prepares you for life on your own...you know when you have bills and no money and chores. If you have a crapton of excitement as a kid, you're going to be really, really disappointed when you get older and find out that working in a cube staring at a monitor and the words of other people is about as exciting as your day's going to get. Wouldn't it be more awesome if you spent your time as a teenager getting ready for the Big Day when you could break out on your own and do something important? And by do something important I mean buy beer and make grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. I'm just saying that the movies are building these kids up to think that the world's a dynamic place where all the hot girls swoon whenever you walk by and your hair is always perfect and everyone can dance/rap/paint/whatever. And, yes, people can do those things. But, it takes a lot of work and practice and hair gel. That's something that most flicks leave out. That's something that most kids don't want to do anyway. The best thing for these trouble-making kids is an afterschool job. That'll crush their dreams earlier and save them from the bitter twenty-something disillusionment that will befall them as surely as I'll have beer and grilled cheese for dinner tonight.

happy friday!

2008-02-08T07:17:00.000-05:00

a false spring, or a conversation in my mind

2008-02-06T08:54:00.000-05:00

There are things, no matter how well intentioned, that should never be said or done. No matter if there are rules, sanctioned agreements, prior evidence. These apply to everyone else, yes, but not to you. You, my friend, are subject to a whole different set of rules that you're not privy to.

It's ok. I've never been good at following rules anyway. Generally, I speak or act with my heart on my sleeve and then try to pick the pieces up later. You can keep your rules and your agreements and your pseudo-philosophical tenants to yourself please. I fell for them once too often and now I know that they're not really there at all.
I felt alive for the first time in a long, long time and it was overpowering. I had forgotten what it was to feel that way and I guess I let it get the best of me. I thought, maybe, that I had grown to the point where I could handle it, but now it's obvious that I can't, that I haven't grown at all really. Regressed, perhaps.

You should've known that this would happen, that we would have this conversation.

On some level I did. On another, I felt so childlike and full of wonder that I let myself pretend that it would all work out like some late night movie.
So, now I'll retire. I'll retire this old heart to its shelf over the fireplace. I'll hang my hopes in the closet with all the unworn jackets, waiting for the perfect occasion. I'll refill my pen and buy new notebooks. I'll wrap myself in this damnable cloak that I've made and weather this storm. And I'll hope that somewhere you know that I was kind of right, even if you never admit it, and that your future is a bright one, even if I'm not in it. I wear enough albatrosses around my neck without adding yours to it. I just can't anymore.

No one asked you to carry this burden. No one asked you to be involved. In fact, had you not been involved, there would be no problem.

I was asked. I was asked, told, shown, moved.....moved. Do you know how long it's been since something moved me? Took the breath from me? Jesus, man. But, it doesn't matter now. Not anymore. I'll keep that part of it with me, though. Always.

******

sorry for being cryptic. I'm fine. Just got some stuff on my mind. Feeling a bit better now, actually. In other news, my book is one step closer to being published as I finally sat down Saturday while "working" and typed everything up. I need to format it and arrange it, but I'm on the way. I'll put a link here when it's ready. And I expect all of you to buy at least 10 copies and to tell all your friends hahaha! No, I'm kidding. 1 or 2 each will be plenty.

let it snow, let it snow

2008-01-17T08:29:00.000-05:00
It's funny how we never grow out of the part of our childhood that makes us excited to see it snow. I guess it goes back to days out of school spent sledding and having snowball fights and freedom from cars and adults. Even now, as it's been snowing for 5 minutes here, I find myself wanting to get out of here and go drive around or sit at home and watch it snow on the city. I love the quiet purity that comes with it, the heaviness in the air. The people at work are like a classroom full of children, looking out the windows and squawking endlessly about the snow and how they're going to get home and all that. Me, I look forward to rough conditions. Not that we'll get any. Most likely, it'll snow for an hour or two, then ice a bit, then rain. That's been our pattern for several years now. But, I'll take what I can get. If it's going to be cold and I'm going to sit in my house in layers like Nanook of the North, then I may as well have something to look at outside.

7 (?) Weird Things

2008-01-16T08:13:00.000-05:00
As weird as I am about most things, you'd think I wouldn't have any problem coming up with 7 things to list. Actually, I don't. The problem is finding interesting ones. But, let's see what we can get, eh?

1. I rarely sit back on the couch or in a chair. In fact, I'm sitting on the edge of my chair right now typing this. At home, I sit in the middle of the couch and lean forward on my knees most of the evening. Once I sit back and relax, I fall asleep. Almost immediately and nearly every single time.

2. I have fallen asleep while lying back and eating potato chips. I kept eating the chips.

2a. I'm incredibly classy.

3. I don't read the newspaper or watch the news. On the rare occasions that I do pick up the paper, it's on a Monday morning so I can see if I know anyone on the obituary, er, I mean engagement page.

4. I like bluegrass music. But only on certain days, in certain weather conditions. It needs to be a cool day, like in late Autumn, or a bright cold one with a fire going.

5. I was in 2 musicals in high school. I can't carry a tune with a bucket.

6. I obsess over how I smell. I put my coat in the closet when I get home so it doesn't smell like the fire or cigarettes. I keep my bedroom door shut so my room doesn't smell like fire or food or cigarettes. I constantly buy new cologne because I like to always smell different. I don't understand people with b.o. or the ones that their nights follow them to work the next day. Everyone has a distinct smell about them, so much so that I can usually tell you who's coming into the room without looking (it's more than perfume/cologne...it's something else, but I don't know what it is), and I can't imagine being noted for that smell not being a good one.

7. I would like to have grown up in the 50s. I would've so had a hot rod and a leather jacket. Actually, I would now if I had some extra money. The car, that is. I already have the leather jacket. And chaps. And leather pants. No, I'm not a freak. I used to ride a motorcycle most of the year. Really. Swear. And, no I don't parade around in all that leather now. Although that would make for an interesting day at work ....hmm.......

EDIT: I think I just consumed enough garlic in my lunch to safely avoid or even kill vampires for the rest of my life. Move over Buffy...I mean Van Helsing.

News Flash!!!

2008-01-09T06:52:00.000-05:00
There's a headline on Yahoo this morning that says MP3 players may cause hearing loss.

What's next? Big Macs make you fat?

I'm glad that the news world is keeping me abreast of all that's happening.

Screw you Winter!!

2008-01-04T09:51:00.000-05:00
Normally, I'm a fan of winter. I like cold days, warm houses, good food, big sweaters, and all that jazz. Not anymore. Winter can officially kiss my ass. It was 9 last night. In some parts of the country, I know, it's a lot colder than that and for a lot longer than one night. I also understand that I had no snow and ice to contend with on top of the freezing cold. However, that's not my point, and I don't care.

Wanna take a guess on how cold it was in my house when I got home at 3:30 yesterday afternoon? Go ahead. I'll wait while you ponder it.

42. Forty-two. 10 degrees above freezing. That is ridiculous. Absolutely and positively ridiculous. But, J, don't you have heat? What about your fireplace? What about living in a house that's not pushing 100 years old?

1. yes, I do have heat. I have a kerosene heater and an electric heater. The main heat for the house is oil/radiator heat. I refuse to turn the furnace on because I refuse to pay near $4 a gallon for fuel oil. On both principles of me being tight and tired of the government screwing me and everyone else AND the simple fact that I don't think I could afford to run the tank dry in a month or two and have to refill it to the tune of $700, I say nay, nay to the oil heat. Thanks, Government, you've really stuck on in us all this time. What good is it to have tanks on the oil fields if oil prices keep going up and up? Stupid bastards. I bet the oil moguls aren't freezing at night. Pfft.

2. The fireplace works pretty well, as long as it's only down to 30 or so outside. Most of the heat gets lost up the chimney if it's much colder than that. I'm going to push the landlord to see if they'll either put in a stove insert or at least split the cost with me on it. Plus, I'm running on low on wood (ha! whatever!) and am waiting for my supply to come.

3. I could move, yes. But, I really, really, really like this house. The thought of going back to something newer and all pre-fab like everything I've ever lived in really, really makes me sick to my stomach. I love my house with the old, cracked plaster and wood floors and big porch. It's the first place I've lived in that has character on its own without me piling money into it to make it look like something it's not. Instead, all of my stuff compliments it. That, and I hate moving. I just moved in August. I don't really want to do it again. Besides, winter's only like 3 months. And, it's supposed to be 70 here by Monday. What the hell? I mean, I don't care...Go, Global Warming!! I'm taking my aerosol can outside right now and emptying that bastard to speed the process up.

To top it off, my back seized up this morning in some sort of spasm that I can only think came from lying under a blanket in front of the heater on my couch for 4 hours or so and then going to bed under a pile of blankets and fearing to move from one position on punishment of frostbite. I would like to choke someone today out of sheer frustration.

All that whining being completed now, I would like to say that I'm stopping at the store tonight to pick up those wool fingerless gloves that people seem to like because it's really, really hard to drink beer when even the koozie is cold.......

Let's gooooooo..........

2008-01-03T06:33:00.000-05:00

Dear Jimmy Johnson,

I hope you and your spray on hair are eating a big plate of shut the hell up today. It's bad enough that I have to listen to you ramble incessantly on Sundays, but I thought I was going to jump through my television after you last night during the pregame show. Please stick to endorsing hair spray and leave the rest of us alone.

Dear Rich Rodriguez,

I hope OSU beats you senseless in the upcoming season. Oh, and thanks for undercoaching against Pitt because you were on your way out the door without telling anyone and costing us a chance at a national title. Jackass.

200---what???

2008-01-02T14:12:00.000-05:00
Oddly, I still feel the same this year. When the clock ticked 12:00 and the ball dropped and Dick Clark looked as if he was ready to steal Ryan Seacrest's soul so he could make it another year, I couldn't tell much difference. Hell, I didn't even drink a lot. I put my coat on and headed home. Odd, that.

The best part of the weekend? A fancy dinner Friday night with good friends and Law and Order marathons.....

I didn't make any resolutions this year. I really never do. Hell, who am I kidding? I can't resolve to get up at the same time every day to come to work. I figure there's no reason to set myself up for disappointment later in the year Everyone knows I don't have much resolve. I don't know, though. I did watch my favourite movie Monte Walsh and decided that maybe I don't have to change with the times as much as I sometimes feel the pressure to. So, in some backhanded way, maybe I did make a resolution. To stay me.

Hmm...hope it works out better this year than it has in the past :-P

O Christmas Tree

2007-12-27T08:09:00.000-05:00
I know you've all been waiting and haven't been able to fully enjoy your holiday season. Well, let me remedy that with a picture of The Ghetto Tree....and a random shot of my living room and fire.

Ain't it a beaut?

NOW, you can have a Happy New Year!

He looks like a pink nightmare.

2007-12-26T06:10:00.000-05:00
Just a quick hop-on to say that I hope everyone had a great holiday. I survived and, surprisingly, there were no casualties or snarkiness required. Perhaps I'm telepathic.

That being said, I would like to have the rest of the week off to recover both from all the festivities and the 86 gazillion pounds of food my mother insisted I eat and then bring home as leftovers too. Oof.

If I don't make it back around, Happy New Year, friends!

I miss Cousin Eddie

2007-12-21T09:48:00.000-05:00
Well, Christmas is upon us with all its obligatory gatherings, overeating sessions, drunken promises to visit, hugs for people you really would rather choke and everything else that goes along with seeing family that you only visit once a year.

I've been to two functions this week and they were both small and very informal, and VERY annoying. Clark W. Griswold may have had Cousin Eddie and a houseful of lunatics, but I'm pretty sure I've got him beat.

Holiday etiquette lesson #1: If someone has done some regrettable things or lost someone that they sorely miss, try not to bring it up repeatedly throughout the evening. Especially if it's been 3 or 4 years, and you don't talk to this relative anyway. Or, to put it more simply, don't be a pretentious, self-righteous prick. I'm looking right at you Uncle R.

Tonight or tomorrow morning, I'm off to my mom's for the long weekend. I'm actually kind of looking forward to it. Not so much for the whole Christmas-y visit thing, but rather for the fact that her house is warm. And it's not costing ME to keep it warm. You know how Ebeneezer wouldn't give Cratchit another lump of coal for his fire? Yeah, that's about how my house is. But, in all honesty, it's pretty laid back at mom's. I'll eat too much, probably drink too much at least Saturday during the "party", and watch a lot of bad television. I mean, really, isn't that what the holidays are all about? Monday night, I'll force her to watch "A Christmas Story" even though she hates it. I think she's really a communist or an alien or something. I mean, I can find no other explanation for it.

Then Tuesday, after getting up and out of mom's and driving an hour and a half, I have to go BACK to my Grandma's because my dad wants to go on Christmas Day this year. No big deal, right? Understand this, however. We haven't been to her house on Christmas Day with the rest of the family for over 20 years. I have no desire to go back. None. A visit the week before is fine with me. But, she's getting old and he wants to go and it'll be easier for him if I'm there to make fun of people with snarky comments from the corner. Again, I'm looking at you, Uncle R.
Let me elaborate on R. He's a whiny child in a man's body. He read some nugget on Yahoo (and if he read it, it's the gospel because he knows everything and you know nothing) the other day about how people really aren't as depressed during the holidays as everyone thinks because they have memories and family around them. At this point, I looked up from where I was sitting on the floor and looked around and said "Huh! I reckon that just depends on who your family is." And went back to petting the dog. I thought my dad would choke laughing. The only thing better would've been if I would've jumped up and said "ZING!"

fucker.

Anyway, that's Tuesday, so I'm not thinking about it anymore til then.....

Now, if I can just get through today and get out of here. I would love to see it snow........and listen to Bing Crosby....

I hope all of you have a great holiday...whichever one it is that you celebrate...or none at all. Just have a great weekend and safe travels!

My life is on fast forward

2007-12-14T09:57:00.001-05:00
My internet radio is skipping today. How is that possible you ask? I don't know either. It's driving me CRAZY. The great thing about it is that it only skips the songs I like. It'll play about 30 seconds of them and then go on to something else. All. Morning. Long.

And, what else? I need to go to the store this evening and I forgot my list. Me in the store without a list is like going into a strip club with $500 in singles. Except not nearly as fun. Not anywhere near. In fact, if fun was here, then the store would be Antarctica or some place really really far away. I know you love the comparisons. It's ok to admit it.

Have a good weekend!

I can't fight this feeling any longer....

2007-12-13T12:01:00.000-05:00
I'm feeling/being ambitious at work. Somebody stop me before I end up screwing up this easy gig.

Why is my arm numb?

2007-12-12T09:48:00.000-05:00

I went out and drank a few (too many?) beers last night at the local and it was fun. So fun, in fact, that I forgot to order the awesome dinner for which I had originally been looking. Upon waking up (late) this morning, I was also hit by Cheap Draught Beer Dodgy Guts and an intense hunger. After rushing through the shower and out the door, I stopped at Hardee's for my usual sausage biscuit. But, I was tempted by the upsell from the lady on the other end of the microphone. Would you like to try our Country Breakfast Burrito today? And then I saw it...ham, bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, AND gravy all rolled conveniently into a nice utensil-free meal. I went for it.

I think I might be having a heart attack right now.
God, I'm a winner....

ho ho ....... hum

2007-12-11T06:17:00.001-05:00
You'd think that someone that spends 90% of his time alone and not talking would have more to say, wouldn't you? I mean, it makes sense really that there would be this Grand Thought or Funny Joke or Something waiting to burst forth at the first opportunity. But, yeah, you'd probably be wrong. Actually, that's not the whole truth. There are those things, but I can't seem to bring them forth. There's no reason either I don't think. Sure, I could blame Christmas and the Holidays and all that, but that's not it. I'm kind of digging Christmas this year for some reason. Maybe it's the new place, or a new sense of self that is my gift to myself, or something like that, but I'm not really filled with the usual nagging dislike of all things Holiday. I mean, I wish it would snow and I would have some sort of magical revelation like Jimmy Stewart, but I know that's not gonna happen. I suppose I'll settle for sitting beside my mom's fire and smelling her cooking and falling asleep beside her tree. (and listen to the same annoying conversation over and over, but that's beside the point) I even have my very own little ghetto tree in my house. I need to get a picture of it so I can show you guys and you can laugh as hard as I do everytime I look at it. It's one of those little live Norfolk pines that they sell at the grocery store that already has the balls on it. Then I bought a strand of 50 lights to put on because every tree needs lights. Except there are about 5 or 10 on the tree and the rest on the table around it. It's quite charming really. My friend, who hasn't seen it yet, figured that I had one with beer cans hanging on it. Ha! Maybe next year if I get a bigger tree.....It'd have to be a big one....

Or perhaps it's the fact that it was 65 degrees yesterday. Just last week it was 14. I don't get it. But, yay for global warming for saving on my heating bill.

Or perhaps it's that maybe, just maybe, things are ok and are gonna be ok and that's all uncharted water for me...

Besides, silence is golden ....or some shit like that.

Keep the change....

2007-12-04T08:39:00.000-05:00

Ah, the best part of winter...

Watch these clips and get your laughs for the day. It almost makes me excited to get old.

If music be the food of love...

2007-12-03T10:42:00.000-05:00
or something like that.......

I've been tagged by Mortar, so here we go. My Internetz isn't working that well today, so I don't have time or really the capabilities of tagging and linking anyone else, but if any of the 5 people that read this drivel wants to play along, please do. And let me know!!

The Rules:1) Put your iTunes/ music player on Shuffle2) For each question, press the next button to get your answer.3) YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT(this is in capital letters, so it is very serious. No hiding your showtunes, folks!)After you’ve answered all of the questions, tag 5 other people and then let them know they’ve been tagged to do the meme themselves!And away we go....

1) IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY? Moon Baby - Godsmack

2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY? American Bad Ass - Kid Rock (ha!!)

3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL? Hating Hollywood - Theory of a Deadman

4) HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? Touch, Peel, and Stand - Days of the New

5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE? Brother - Alice in Chains

6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? Polly - Nirvana

7) WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? Sympathetic - Seether

8) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS? Rain - Sevendust

9) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN? Less Polite - Will Kimbrough

10) WHAT IS 2+2? Songwriter - Ken Maffeo

11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? June Bug - Alexis Harte

12) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? In the Park - Ned Massey

13) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? Man of God - Neil Diamond

14) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? A Girl Named Hannah - Forest Wayne Allen (scary, that one)

15) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? True - Spandau Ballet

16) WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? Do Wot You Do - INXS

17) WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? Darkness - the Police (ha!)

18) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? Blue Jean - David Bowie

19) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST? Life in One Day - Howard Jones

20) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET? Drive - the Cars

21) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? Hold Me Now - The Thompson Twins

I didn't get a good shuffle because I use internet radio at work, but still kind of interesting I suppose.....

You say you want...

2007-11-30T06:37:00.000-05:00
a highway with no one on it, treasure just to look upon it....

all I want is you...

Probably my favourite U2 song ever.

Please, step into my office.

2007-11-28T12:16:00.000-05:00
Please allow me, if you will, to walk you through my day. I come to work between 5 and 6 am every morning, turn the machines on, read the internet for an hour or so, and start to work. It's a good routine. It works for me.

Lately, however, my main machine has been screwing up my program. No problem. I still have time to get all of my reading...er, work...in.

The main problem of late? It's gotten cold outside. No more a/c for me. My machine bumps the temperature in my office upwards of 85 degrees. And there's no air movement. I'll say this again in italics because it will become important later. No. Air. Movement.

Do you know how smells seem to linger when the air is hot and stale? Hi there. Welcome to my office. Come on in. Oh, that smell? Well, we'll get to that in a moment. Here's a list of what I've encountered so far today. It's 12:20, by the way.

1. woodsmoke
2. B.O.
3. dog turds
4. feet
5. stale parmesan cheese
6. a perm
7. wet dog

Believe me, it's very Funktastic in here. It's like one of those Febreeze scent circulator things has been possessed by the devil.

The best part? Wait for it......

It's all coming from the woman in the next cube. Talk about a hostile work environment. At this point in the day, not only am I hot and miserable, but I'm gagging too. Why can't I be surrounded by good smelling, hot women? I think I've died at some point and that this is my hell. I'm pretty sure nothing I did was bad enough to deserve this.

And they wonder why I like to leave work early all the time.

My Black Friday Trip....or one more reason that I'm awesome

2007-11-26T08:01:00.000-05:00
I trust everyone had a good Thanksgiving. Mine was one of the better ones I've had in awhile :-D

Wednesday evening kicked the festivities off when I met some friends for $3 pitchers at the Mexican restaurant and plenty of laughs. And, it was an early night as I was home by 9:30 or so. That's always good. Of course, I stayed up milling around the house til 2:00 or so because for some reason I couldn't sleep. That never happens.

Thursday, I woke up around 7ish and decided that I HAD to clean up because my friends were coming for the holiday. I washed clothes, did dishes, vacuumed, etc. etc....watched a good bit of the Thanksgiving Day Parade on tv....oof. I don't know why I couldn't seem to quit watching it as it was pretty annoying, but anyway there I sat. Around 11:30, the pregame show for the NFL games came on, and in the spirit of the season, the first beer o' the day was cracked open. Game on. Around 1:30 or so, my friends showed up and THEY BROUGHT PRESENTS. That's always a good sign. They weren't holiday presents, but rather housewarming presents. New fluffy towels and pj pants....my 2 favourite things. We had a few beers and headed off to another friend's house for dinner and entertainment. The food was great as was the company. We headed home around 11 or so and stayed up til 4...the scheduled departure time for Hell-Mart.

Perhaps it was the fact that I was at the store around 4:15 or it was the fact that I'd been up all night drinking and laughing, or a combination of the two, but it was an easy and successful trip. I stood in line for the tv (I was third) and got a little christmas tree and a stocking for the fireplace and bolted for the door. I feel sorry for the 20 or so people in line for the tvs, though, because they only had 5. You wanna talk about a riot? Imagine me being #6. Luckily for all of us, I got mine and was out the door and home on the couch by 5:15. That might be a record even for a normal trip.

Friday consisted of football and a fire and not much else.

Saturday consisted of football and a fire and beers...and not much else.

Sunday consisted of football and a fire and beers...and not much else.

And now? Well, it's Monday and I'm totally excited to be back at work :-/. And already counting on next weekend....and no more shopping.

just hear those sleigh bells ringing...

2007-11-20T06:38:00.001-05:00

It's that time of year again. The holidays are upon us. Not only did a couple of radio stations around here start playing Christmas music 2 weeks ago (or earlier I think), but now my mom wants me to go to Wal-Mart Friday morning for her. Friday as in Hell Day and Wal-Mart as in Satan's Lair. And when and why you ask? 4-9 am for a television that's on sale. 4 am. On my day off. On the day after a holiday that is pretty much centered around eating and drinking and being thankful. Well, one thing I'm thankful for is that I don't have to get up early the next day. But, in the spirit of not having to listen to her complain about it, I'll go. I meant that to say "in the spirit of the season." Really I did.
In other news, a warm fire, Frank Sinatra, Norah Jones, and big glasses of wine could cause me to lapse into total winter hibernation.

Tonight is....are you ready??....Charlie Brown night

I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday and finds at least one thing to be thankful for.

Saturday

2007-11-16T06:18:00.000-05:00
The air blew through the window cold and crisp as I wiggled further beneath the blanket. I reached across and groped for the pillow and felt her hair on it. I started awake, wondering where I was, who this was. Soon enough it came back to me. Sitting up, I thought that this wasn’t normal, not how it should be, not how it was. Her shape was outlined, warm, next to me. She was sleeping soundly again. Good. I rolled over and opened the blinds and lit a cigarette, feeling the morning’s breeze blowing across my face. As I lay there, focusing on breathing in and out, exhaling the smoke, inhaling the birth of another day, I wondered why she came, why she stayed. She knew me, had for a long time. Too well, I’m sure, but she stayed despite that. Or maybe because of it.

I eased out of the bed and padded across the cold floor to the kitchen for some coffee. Lighting another cigarette and pouring my coffee, I looked back in at what was once a goal, a dream, a plan. I turned around then and looked around the kitchen, the table scattered in papers and books and notebooks of wild scrawling, empty beer cans and full ashtrays stacked in the corner. They seemed to know me too. Or at least know how to call my name and get my attention. Last night’s notes were still lying folded on the table, the napkin crumpled but strong. I don’t know if she read these things when I was in the bathroom or already asleep or not. I don’t know that it would’ve mattered anyway. The vacuum that is my mind kept me insulated from such trivial things.

Was this going somewhere? Had it already been? Is it just something that was/is and nothing more and nothing less? Did it really matter anyway? It was too early in the morning for my mind to be racing like this. I poured another coffee and looked out the window at the yard where a few birds were poking around in the heavy dew. Early birds, indeed. The smell from the coffee pot was warm and welcoming and comfortable. I’m surprised she wasn’t awake yet. Logically thinking, I should wake her up and get her out the door. Logically thinking never has been my specialty. Rather, I got a skillet out and fried some sausage for gravy. A journey of a million miles at least warrants a good breakfast.

* all characters in the above story are fictional....noone wants to sleep in my bed and I don't have any sausage to cook.

ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

2007-11-02T08:19:00.001-04:00
I don't think we spend enough time sitting. Not sitting at work or on the couch or at the bar or at the table or in front of the computer or tv. Just sitting. Thinking, remembering, forgetting, listening, letting the sun warm your face, eyes closed. The autumn sun is a wily character. It heats the day, and your jeans if you sit still long enough, but only for a few chosen hours in the afternoon/early evening. The wind rustles the leaves around the corner and against the house. Kids scream and laugh somewhere down the street. Traffic, always rushing, noisy intrusions, continues like a motorized river on the other side of the house. But in the back, there's nothing. Sunlight and breezes, leaves and whispers. It's easy to be young again. 7, 12, 17...young and in love, restless, free. Peaceful without realizing it. That's what the sun does...rejuvenates. Gives life. The remnants of all your baggage blow about on the ground, but it's better not to track that back inside with you. You don't need them. Sometimes you have to remember that though. Or forget it. Or forget to remember. Or just sit.

Tag, I'm it

2007-10-31T10:45:00.000-04:00
OTV "tagged" me and here's the rules for doing this:

A). Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog...

B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself...

C). Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs...

D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

7? Ok, I'll try to cut the list down some.

1. I have an insane obsession with tire pressure. As in I am always peering at mine and checking them to see if they're low. Or anyone else's for that matter. I generally won't check someone else's unless they're my friend though.

2. When I take my shoes off, they have to be facing the same way and in the correct order (L-R) and straight.

3. I love to cook, but only if someone is going to be there to eat it. When I eat alone, it's usually an apple or peanuts or something junky from the freezer. Or just beer.

4. I went to 3 colleges in 5 years, but only actually was enrolled for 3.5 and graduated from the one I started in.

5. My 2 best friends have been my best friends since 6th grade.

6. I grew up in a grocery store and lived off of soda, candy, potato chips, etc. I rarely eat/drink those things anymore.

6.5...that probably explains my weird eating habits now.

7. Contrary to my comments/blogs, I really don't talk a lot in real life. Given my 'd'ruthers (ha! look that one up) I'd probably go days without speaking.

Now I guess I need to tag some people. Hmm....

TK, ha ha, Jeff, Val, Brooklyn

ok, I'm only doing 5. All this linking is making my brain tired.....

Good grief.

2007-10-30T07:48:00.000-04:00
Yesterday evening began just as many a Monday evening does, except I had one more movie from netflix to watch because I was too lazy to go get it Saturday from the post office and Sunday I was too. Go figure. I kind of pride myself on my ability to be ok with not leaving the house some days and not bothering to change out of my comfy pants. Eh, anyway.

So, I settle in with a High Life and start to watch House of 1,000 Corpses. I'm probably one of the few in the world that is just now getting to this, but in my defense I did watch The Devil's Rejects last year. Anyway, I like humour on the twisted side, so I'm rolling along pretty well with this movie. And since, it's Halloween (almost), it kind of fit. I was feeling all Halloweenish and Autumn-y, and was just grooving with it.

Flash forward to 7:30. Jeopardy comes on. It must be retard night, because I'm kicking ass at these questions. Go me. Lord knows if I ever got on there, it would be Nuclear Physics Night or some shit, so I take pride in my small victories from the comfort of my couch. After that, I flip over to How I Met Your Mother which I generally enjoy. Last night's show seemed to center around shopping too much and credit cards and blah blah. Ok, that's a little too real. I prefer to think of Doogie Howser as a ladies' man and go for the full on suspension of disbelief. So, I changed channels again. If you've read this far, congratulations and thank you and I'm sorry. Here's the good part, though!! Friday the 13th Part 3 was on. And I watched it. Like I'd never seen it before. Oh. My. God. Unbelievably craptacular. My favourite part was the boyfriend that met the main character at the camp on her first return trip since the "horror" happened to her (last year?). First off, who comes back to a place where you were almost murdered by a mask wearing psycho? Secondly, as a boyfriend in the early 80s, it is apparently proper and ok for you to only care about getting in your girl's pants as soon as you see her. Not after unpacking. Not after alleviating some of her nervousness. In fact, it helps if you ridicule her and talk to her like a porn star. And, if you play your cards right, you just might get a little action before the chopping begins. This guy must not've tried hard enough. He got chopped.

Then I encounted the "biker gang" which consisted of a Sheila E. knockoff complete with banging on random objects hanging up in the barn like they were drums, a "greaser" with permanently affixed cigarette, and a black guy with a headband (I think) and a vest. They were a motley bunch, indeed. Also chopped.

At this point, I think I fell asleep. Hey, it was cold in the house and my new blanket is all snuggly warm. Never fear, I woke up later around midnight or 1 and it was back on. Right in the place where I fell asleep. So, like any red-blooded American, I finished watching it. Nervous chick from the beginning lived but went bat-shit crazy. In case you were wondering.

This is really pitiful.

Tonight is It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which I consider the pinnacle of all Halloween programming. I need to stop and get some candy today...and perhaps a life.

Who ARE these ad wizards?

2007-10-25T07:29:00.000-04:00
Remember my last foray into the world of potato chip marketing? Well, if you don't, my feelings are hurt. It was quite the expository piece.

Today, though, you have a chance to redeem yourselves as I bring you part 2(!) of Chip Marketing Tips.

These were laying in the breakroom this morning.

Now, I'm all about the buffalo wings. In fact, I like all kinds of buffalo-type treats. It's actually a lot better than beef. Wait, different topic. Moving on. I am a hot wing connoisseur (try spelling that without spellcheck). I also am a potato chip freak. Well, I was. It seems you can't get a good chip anymore, so I've resorted to plain tortillas loaded with cheese and chili and salsa. I thought to myself this morning, however, that hey, it's chips and wings combined and you haven't had breakfast yet, and it's FREE, so why not? Oh, self, you deluded bastard. This is the same self that thinks that cheese sticks make a suitable dinner. I should know not to trust him.

Seriously, though, let's examine the package together, shall we? First we have the flames signifying HOT and FLAMEY and whatever else that's supposed to mean to me. Then we have the chips themselves. Ridged, barbecue looking chips. Not bad. Good for dips and whatnot. But, let's not forget the piece de resistance! The Wing. The wing that looks half cooked and is oozing some type of red sauce that I can only assume is supposed to be "buffalo" style. I don't know about you guys, but I don't like my wings to ooze. I'm pretty much anti-oozing in all aspects of life, actually. Yeah, I'm weird like that. Sue me. I'm not sure though how I'm supposed to make the leap from an oozing wing to a chip and back and still be hungry. Diving in though undeterred, I suspend my disbelief and take a bite. They taste like salt and vinegar chips molested a bag of barbecue chips. My tastebuds kicked me in the nuts for giving them this travesty just now. Don't even get me started on the Doritos version of hot wing/bleu cheese flavour combo. It's like they threw cool ranch and regular in a bag and said hey, throw a new label on this and no one will know...they're so drunk by the time they're mauling these things that even if they do know, they won't care. Bastards.

In conclusion, it turns out that you can judge a book by its cover after all. Ha! Told you mom.

I'm just askin'

2007-10-23T13:22:00.001-04:00
My friend and I were pondering a very important question the other evening.

At what age are you when a MILF stops being a MILF and becomes an attractive woman? I mean, we're not getting any younger here and some of these women are younger than we are...Of course, that's in years, probably not mentally. At least I hope not.

In other news....Absolutely nothing. No news is good news, I suppose. But, seriously, I am either living the dullest life ever or am suffering from the largest case of "writer's" block ever. I don't know. But, this eerie calm is a little comforting really. Maybe that means that I've finally grown out of the existential angst that has seemed to plague me forever and accepted who/what I am. In that case, go me!!

The World Series starts tomorrow night. I can't wait. I do, however, wish that it would start at a humane hour. Watching a game til midnight or so and then getting up at 4 is not user-friendly. Even if I do quit drinking even before the game starts. Yes, I did try it both ways last week. Hey, it's called science and experimenting. Or experimentation. Or whatever. Actually, experimentation sounds a little too much like something that is not gonna happen at my house...

You know, it's great living alone. Great, I tell you. The only downside is that there's no one to get aggravated with and then write about or tell funny and embarrassing stories about except me. And, I don't ever screw up, so there goes that idea. Well, at least since I stopped using the oven after 8.

Erasure's "A Little Respect" is stuck in my head now, much like on the Scrubs episode. "I try to discover a little something to make me sweeter..." There, now I hope it's in yours too.

open letter part 2

2007-10-19T06:46:00.000-04:00
Dear Josh Beckett,

Congratulations on pitching a great game last night. They should clone you and let you pitch all the time. I wish you would've kicked Lofton's ass though. Oh well.
Moreover, congratulations on dating this girl ....you, sir, are indeed my hero.

Sincerely,
J.

an open letter

2007-10-16T05:56:00.000-04:00
Dear Boston Red Sox,

You. Are. Killing. Me.

That is all.

sincerely,

J.

sing us a song, you're the piano man

2007-10-12T05:53:00.000-04:00
Hi. My name is J and I'm a lyrical snob. Whilst waiting for the rerun of Wed. night's South Park, I flipped over to Fox at 9:30 to catch the end of "Don't Forget The Lyrics!" which is similar to the show that the Fat One from NSync hosts on some other channel. This one, however, has Wayne "I sure miss riding Drew Carey's coattails" Brady on it and apparently has a Who Wants To Be A Millionaire twist to it. Crap. Double Crap. Shit. That means the people get up there and instead of just answering the question or singing along or whatever in the hell it is that they do, they also give you incessant babbling about how they know this or have seen that or blah blah blah-kill me now. Last night, this dude comes out in a yellow shirt with a welcome back Kotter moustache and YELLOW ALLIGATOR SHOES and proceeds to ham it up through about 3 songs talking all the while about how he's a musical aficionado and everything. Uber annoying. Yes, I just said uber. It's really the only word to describe it. Anyway, after blowing through 2 out of 3 of his "lifelines" or "backups" on some song I've never even heard of (yet he managed to try to hit all the falsetto/female parts of), he finally gets to the safe point of $25K. That's a lot of money. Well, to me anyway. Of course, the r&b song previously mentioned would've blown me out of the water. Of course, I'd never have chosen that category, but anyway. His $25K lock category? Billy Joel. BILLY. JOEL. The question? PIANO MAN. Yeah, Piano Man. 3 missing words were all he needed to fill in. 3. Mr. Macho Music sang along and he was doing really well until he got to the part where it mattered. The line was "We're all in the mood for a melody and you've got __ _________ _________." Well, every drunk out there that's ever been in a bar or at karaoke or anywhere remotely associated with a beer and good times knows that line. Or, if you've ever listened to oh, I don't know, any classic rock radio station. It's so obvious. Let's break it down into context, shall we? Mr. MM got the last two words right. "feeling alright". Pretty good right? His first word? ME. Ok, read the sentence back. WE are in the mood for a melody. WE. As in all of US...more than one, etc. Context clues people...they teach it in elementary schools (or used to, anyway). I almost fell off of the couch when I heard him say ME. He didn't even think about it. He went on about being originally from Long Island like Billy and how he's heard this song millions of times and all this shit and locked in his answer without hesitation. Of course, Wayne goes backwards through the answer because even Wayne knows it's wrong. The guy's all pumped up and bragging and smiling...and BLAMMO. Nada. Wrong Answer. Off the show with $0 and an assload of humiliation for messing up one of the most popular songs probably ever. I would chalk it up to nervousness had he not been overly cocky from the beginning. Now I'm just going it being too damn funny. It's a shame too, because $25K would've bought a lot more of those butt-ugly shoes. Laughing and self-satisfied, I promptly switched to South Park where they designated Bono as a piece of crap (literally). Ah, good times. Thank you tv, for making me feel good about myself. I may not have $25K, but at least Billy Joel knows that I know his songs. Billy if you're reading this, call me.

Laugh it up, furball

2007-10-11T12:51:00.000-04:00
I liked Star Wars growing up. I like it now. I don't count the 3 new "old" movies in Star Wars. They're more or less just 2-3 hours of tripe. Anyway, I think this girl liked it more than I did. Check this out...and be amazed. Or scared. Or both.

There comes a time...

2007-10-10T09:05:00.000-04:00
I think there comes a time in everyone's life when you have to ask yourself certain questions. They can range from the ultimately serious What in the hell am I doing with my life? to the trivial, but still very vital, What in the hell am I going to have for dinner? There are about a million other things that you can ask yourself about, beat yourself up over, and agonize on for days, weeks, months, years on end. But, I'll leave you to fill in your own list. I don't know if there's such a thing as redemption or, rather, a karmic scrubbing off of past deeds by newer, more improved deeds, but I'm willing to give it a try. That push to be a better person to everyone. Well, not everyone. Some people are just assholes and need to be kicked in the nuts. Eh, you get the idea.

I had a good time over the weekend at my buddy's party. We stayed up entirely too late both nights and drank entirely too much. Well, he and his wife didn't. They're actually responsible parents. The rest of us...not so much. In fact, my response to their questioning of my bringing drinking games back into our lives was Hey, I've tried the responsible route for 12 years or more. I'm now regressing into youth. Oh yeah? How's that working for you? Very well, actually. Can't you tell? Now roll the damn dice, it's your turn.

I watched them with their kids and my newly married bff and his wife and the ride home was long because I was alone and knew I was going home alone, but strangely satisfying at the same time. Satisfying I think because while they all live good lives, I want something else (what that is, I don't know exactly) but I'm pretty sure that that's not the path that it's on. I don't know. That's just it; I don't know. Does anyone really? Or do we all just bounce and roll around and put ourselves out there and pull ourselves back and do whatever the situation at hand calls for? Or do we pick a course and steadily sail it, no matter how rough the water? I don't know. But, maybe the mystery IS the fun part.

Nothing says fall like grilled meat

2007-10-04T08:43:00.000-04:00
This weekend, tomorrow actually, I'm off to North Carolina for my friend's annual birthday party/pig roast. Well, it's not a roast per se, because in NC they call them Pig Pickins. Around these parts, they're called roasts. Whatever. All I know is that there's a big cooker and an 85 lb. pig smoldering in it. Topped with gallons and gallons of delicious homemade vinegar type sauce. The guy doing the cooking, dubbed Pig Jim (so as not to be confused with one of the guests one year named Big Jim), makes the best sauce. In fact, the recipe is a secret known only to the family. Once he gave me a good one to use when I was roasting here, but it wasn't the same...

I searched for a picture of a pig roast, but all I could find were pictures from catering companies with flayed bodies and the heads grilling. Hey, we don't do the head, man. I mean, we're not cavemen here. It is odd though how much a pig looks like a small human. I try not to think about that as I'm standing there picking ribs out and trying not to spill my beer. Or maybe I do...hell I don't care. If humans taste that good over an open flame, I will never go hungry. That took an odd turn. Moving on.....

Possibly my favourite part though is the early morning Saturday when I rise from a too late Friday night in the comfort (ha!) of my motel bed, shower, grab a quick breakfast from the greasy Waffle House clone next door, and head over to help in the preparations...the lighting of the fire, the placing of the pig, the smell of the leaves mingling with that first sizzling scent. And the beer at 10 a.m....because hey, it's a long day and what else are you gonna do? I mean, you have to sit there and keep the fire under control. Man, I love Autumn.

alive and kicking...

2007-10-01T07:15:00.001-04:00
I'm still alive, but oddly quiet. Not quiet in that brooding miserable "I don't have anything to say to anyone" way, but more in a "I don't have anything to say because nothing's really going on and for once that's good." I guess I'm finally getting settled in without settling and it's kind of a new experience for me. And, I'm getting my umbrella and overcoat ready because generally when things begin to sort themselves out and go well, the shit storm isn't too far behind. I caught a glimpse of a brown cloud this morning, but I'm choosing to ignore it. Period.

Living alone will be the death of me....literally

2007-09-24T05:34:00.000-04:00
Literally...a fiery, smoky, charred death.

Friday night, I'm sitting around having the Friday beers and generally just enjoying the evening. I watched one of my favourite shows and then started playing my football game on the playstation. Yes, I am a dork. A charming, witty, super attractive dork, but a dork nonetheless. Anyway, not paying any attention to the time, I get hungry. With a capital H. No problem, it's Friday and it's only midnight, I'll order a pizza. Nah, I think, I have a frozen one here. I'll save some money and just make that. Beauty. I get the pizza out, turn the oven on, slice my hot peppers for the top and put it in the oven after patiently waiting an eternity for it to preheat. Back to the sofa I go and I flip through the channels looking for some stupid movie to entertain me while I wait 25-28 minutes for the pizza to be ready. I watch the clock diligently, even getting up at 23 minutes to check on it to see if by some chance it's ready early. No dice. Back to the couch...I figure I'll give it 6 minutes or so now. Fast forward to me flying off the couch and looking frantically at the clock. It's 4 am. The pizza has now been in the oven for....do the math here...3.5 hours. It looks like a meteorite. I don't think the Smithsonian has prehistoric rocks that are as black and hard as this thing is. The kitchen's a little smoky, but not bad. My pizza pan survived the incident as did the inside of the new oven that I just got. That day. (thank you landlord) I get it out and set it in front of the window to cool as I lumber back to the bed to deal with it all in the morning as I'm just glad not to have caught the house on fire. That's when the smoke alarm goes off. Twice. Silencing that, I now have a splitting headache. Two tylenol later, and I'm back asleep, alarm set to wake me up for errands in the morning....oh what a night.

Saturday morning, I tend to the remains and head off to town for some very unproductive shopping. Back home at 12, I have my Octoberfest pack of Sam Adams and am ready to watch the WVU game. After I find my glasses. I had them on last night. I didn't go anywhere. My apartment isn't that big. I looked for them for an hour. I moved the couches, took the cushions off, even dug through the trash. All to no avail. I don't have any idea where they are. Apparently, they have fallen prey to the midnight gremlins that are fueled by alcohol and that suck things into the abyss that is centered in my living room. I'll probably find them in a week or so in pieces somewhere.

Then, watching the game, one of the idiot announcers made the bold statement as if it were a fact written in stone somewhere that Deon Sanders is the greatest player that's ever played in the NFL. Now, I don't know who I would consider the greatest, but I'm pretty damn sure it's not that flashy, overrated waste of oxygen. I mean, did he do anything specatacular other than run his mouth more than anyone else in the league?

Sunday, I hear another brilliant commentator say about Brett Favre's tying Marino's touchdown record "so, does this compare with something like Bonds and the homerun record?" No, jackass, it doesn't. Brett has never been in the middle of any scandal and has been (as far as I remember) a stand up guy and not an asshole. Those are 3 things Bonds can't say. But, anyway, I'm gonna start muting the game and making up my own commentary. I'm going to have to I suppose, as I can't see the screen like I could...actually, the money for the big screen tv is well spent now. Go me!!

In summary, make sure your smoke detectors work and when you want something to eat late at night...just order it.

Can you hear me now?

2007-09-20T08:02:00.000-04:00
Dear Sprint:

We've been together now for quite a few years, and I've become quite reliant on you. In fact, I ditched my long time phone company for you and have since not even used another service. I've always paid my bills on time and not complained about how much you rape me with this charge and that charge. You see, I'm holding up my end of our relationship. I'm trying to make this thing work. And that's the problem. You're not putting your effort into this. Things are getting very one-sided and I find myself apologizing for your behaviour all the time. I'm making excuses for you like the abused spouse does, or the non-drinking spouse at a party. Sure, you're putting in your appearances what with all the flashy towers and the bars on my phone, but I see through you. I see what you're doing when you think I'm not looking. I see the 4 or 5 bars I used to have all the time jump to 2 or even 0 repeatedly when I don't even move the phone. I know it's you that's hanging up on my friend 10 times Tuesday evening. 10, Sprint. I moved everywhere I could to try to talk and still you wouldn't cooperate. What did I do wrong? I moved into the city from the country thinking that you might be happier if we were closer. I guess not. Turns out that maybe I'm too close for comfort? I just don't know anymore. I know that I can't depend on you and that makes me sad. And furious. I've invested a lot of time and money in this relationship, but I'm afraid there are other people involved now. Verizon and Cingular are batting their eyes at me when you're pouting with no signal. They're promising free calls to my friends that are already dating them. They're lulling me with their sweet sirens' song. What's it going to be Sprint? I'm a creature of habit, and for better or worse, I'd like to save this relationship. Or be set free. Call me (if you can).

Sincerely,

J.

I can feel it in the air tonight..well, this morning anyway...

2007-09-13T10:24:00.000-04:00
Do you know what that smell is? No, not the strange odor eminating from the cube next to me, the one outside? yep, it's Autumn. It's right around the corner. I could feel it this morning, smell it in the air. And I can't wait. It's football on the weekends, pots of chili, warm dinners instead of whatever happens to be convenient. Jeans and long sleeved shirts...fires...good beers that sit a little heavier on you than the light ones you drink when it's a million degrees out. Fall is also a time of rebirth for me. People think of it as a time of dying, preparing for the cold of winter...but I always look at fall as the beginning of the year. I guess that stems from starting school and all that in the fall. But, it's a great time for me. A comfortable one. Soon it will be hunting season (which amounts to sitting on the porch with my step-dad, a 12 pack, and some guns, but still...) and the leaves will change and cover us in a multitude of colours. And the air is so clean and crisp and the sky so blue. And, this year instead of walking around sniffing for the first person to build a fire on a cold night, that person will be me. I can't wait. I even saw 3 deer walking this morning...through the intersection on the main road that I cross to get to work. In the city. If they're not ready for fall, no one is.

All over the map....

2007-09-11T07:03:00.000-04:00
There's a chicken processing factory in the town where I work. It's not the killing factory...that's a few miles away. Boy, oh boy, let me just tell you how good that smells on a hot, humid day. Anyway, the plant here in town handles the frozen, mostly precooked stuff like those little chunks of heaven Chicken Nuggets and the like. Most days it smells like lunch all the time. But, for some reason when it rains it smells like hot dogs. Not the hot dog goodness that is a chili dog with everything on it or anything like that. It's more like they're using wet dogs to make hot dogs. I don't get it.

I know everyone's seen those damn Quizno's commercials with the slogan "MMMM....Toasty" on it. If you listen to it, though, shouldn't there be 5 Ms? These are the things that keep me up at night.

And, now, to take this blog to the next level. There's a guy here that goes to the bathroom every hour on the hour. Like I mean, you can set your watch by it. WTF? Every day, every hour. In an eight hour day, he sacrifices 2 hours (not counting breaks and lunch) to the porcelain god. Seriously, wouldn't you go to the doctor or be concerned or something? Or maybe just try to eat a little better or maybe just eat lots of cheese and stuff. I don't get it. At all. It used to be funny, like 2 or 3 years ago. Now it's just annoying. I don't know, maybe I'm the freak, but even after a weekend of steady drinking, I can't compete. Oh, the mysteries that are this life.

Now, aren't you glad you read this today?

dammit

2007-09-10T07:12:00.000-04:00
I spent a pretty low key weekend messing around the house, and after West Virginia finally showed up to the game Saturday at some point after halftime, it improved a little more. But, I do have to ask...why in the hell did they start the game at 11:00?? WVU and Marshall are 2 of the hardest drinking schools on football weekends that I've been to. In fact, my local university had a game this weekend and I saw ONE banner celebrating that fact. One. At a place of 20K or so students....Who cares if the team isn't a championship contender? It's still football. The beer tastes the same, win or lose. The grill still cooks wonderful meaty magic either way. I don't get it man. For the record, they may be really good...to be honest, I don't know. It's nearly impossible to get tickets and I'm not tailgating alone, unless it's on my porch. Which brings me back to Saturday. The first half of the game was a little rough and leaving me a little unsettled and I caught myself going beer for beer with commercial breaks. There are A LOT of commercials in a football game. A Lot. Later in the half, as my chili started cooking more, I started focusing on that and laundry and such as it was nearing halftime, so everything evened out. By 2:30, now working on an early evening if I didn't find something else to do besides sit and stare at the television, I decided I needed to eat and go do anything other than sit in the house. Early sleeping averted, I salvaged the rest of the day.

Anyway, the point of this post is this...I woke up early Sunday morning. By early, I mean 4:30 with the right side of my head locked up so tight I thought someone was smothering me and trying to drown me at the same time. I stumbled to the kitchen, took a claritin and was now awake. So, I watched a movie or two. I watched Sideways, the mid-life crisis/wine tour movie. It was pretty good overall. In parts, though, I didn't mind getting up to get more coffee. I like wine, but I don't love it and maybe that's part of it. And the mid-life part? I get it, man. Trust me...I get it. Meh. But, the thing that got me....if you've made it this far through the rambling, congratulations!!....the guy's a "writer" and trying to publish a book. The title? The Day After Yesterday. Asshole. I had originally thought of maybe calling mine that. Guess I won't now. Of course, the cool girl that he liked in the movie kinda made fun of it a little, so that turned me off of it too. Still, though, what are the chances of that?? Or, am I essentially that guy and that's what the movie was telling me...at 6:00 am on a Sunday?? But, I've other ideas for a title and I don't drink wine very often....

A Friday Treat

2007-09-07T06:25:00.001-04:00

These chickens crack me up. Thanks, Doug Savage for bringing a bit of humour to the cubicle farm.

National Museum of the Boring

2007-09-05T05:37:00.000-04:00

I suppose I should type something to fill this empty space because I know you all have been waiting with baited breath to see what's been going on here in Wonderland...except nothing has. Nothing. I can't remember the last time that this has happened...this lull where nothing irritates me, nothing makes me mad or upset, and nothing is really hilarious. It's actually, albeit boring, quite nice for a change.

Sunday I did go to the National Museum of Natural History or whatever it's called in Washington. Other than it being asshole to elbow with screaming, running kids it was very interesting. I was surprised at how much of a geek I am deep down. I could've stayed in there reading exhibits all day. Oh, and the Hope Diamond? Meh. It doesn't look real. I wouldn't be surprised if it's just a big farce perpetuated through the ages. But, back to the kids. Parents, I know you want to educate your kids and that you need stimulation too other than the idiocy that is children's television, but seriously, when a kid is under 8 or so, they're not gaining a lot from the whole museum experience. But, perhaps I'm biased. Either way, I bullied my way through, glared at the parents, and went on with my day. Oh, and People From Foreign Countries, I'm pleased that you want to learn about science and history and are experiencing all that our capital has to offer. But, please remember that this is America and we believe here in a little thing called personal space. In case you're not familiar with it, it's the idea that since I don't know you and we're not going to sleep together later, I would rather you not stand right on top of me. Thanks.

Saturday I watched football and Monday I bought a book or three and watched movies...Oh! And I think I'm going to try to get some stuff published if I can talk the publisher of this poetry book I bought into it. I think he just doesn't realize that he needs me on his list. I'm going to send some stuff to him as soon as I can rummage it out of the 4 or 5 notebooks laying haphazardly around. If any of you know publishers looking for someone, pimp me out, yo.

I love short weeks! Today is already Wednesday, meaning tomorrow is my weekly battle with Junk Man, and then it's the weekend again, baby. I can't wait!!

My Nemesis

2007-08-31T07:07:00.000-04:00
Batman had the Joker. Superman had Lex Luthor (I almost typed Lex Luger, the wrestler...I promise I'm not a dork). Spiderman had the Green Goblin. Jerry Seinfeld and Newman. Ross (Friends) had the whole pretending he's not gay thing. Well, friends, I've finally found my nemesis. Don't let the fact that he's a 70-something (or older) fat old man with a cane who can barely talk above a raspy whisper. He's a crafty bastard. You see, since I moved I've been going to auctions with my dad and buying things for the apartment. One man's junk is another man's treasure they say. But, seriously, you can find some cool shit there. Some of it could be antique, but mostly it's just old quirky stuff that no one wants anymore. Eh, either way. I'm kind of like quirky old junk myself. Almost classy, but mostly just odd and maybe a little cool. Ok, I'm a lot cool, but I don't want to brag. Anyway....for the past 2 weeks there have been a couple of things I was hunting for. Last week was a coffee table, which was subsequently damaged on Saturday, and this week was either another table, a bookshelf, and/or a fireplace tool set. Lo and Behold!! There was a fireplace set there. Rock on! All night, things had been selling for a buck, $2.50, $5...etc. There were some very expensive things there, but since I don't care about age or resale value, I buy the cheap stuff. Enter the nemesis. These cheap things are the things he buys too. The kicker is that the old bastard has a used furniture store in town that's so crammed full of this shit that you can barely find your way through it. If there was a fire in there, you'd burn to death before you could even turn around and head for the door. And, he's a millionaire. So, when I'm scraping pennies together to bid $5 for something and this ass runs my bid to $10 or $12, I get a little miffed. You see, I budget my money. He's wearing a shirt from 1970. And not in a cool Kramer way. This is when I know I'm my father's son. I get feisty. I don't want to pay too much for something, but I don't want to let him walk out with it either, so I keep bidding. I've watched him for a few weeks now and I know his limit...and it's right around mine, so I have to be careful...but I push him as far as he'll go because, well, it's damn worth it! I think next week I'm going to make up a super-villain name for him and start calling him that....

I did manage 2 metal chairs for my porch, a fireplace kit, 6 board games that are brand new (ok, maybe I am a dork), and my very own backgammon game in its own vintage briefcase. ha! Take that Junk Man!

to whom it may concern

2007-08-30T06:32:00.000-04:00
Dear City-In-Which-I-Live,

Hello, it's nice to get to know you after living near you for so long. I've been here about a month now and so far, so good. I'm getting used to the noise and having people around and walking through my yard and the crazy traffic patterns that seem to grow more and more congested at the exact moment that I'm trying to get somewhere, and really I'm ok with it all.

I do, however, have a couple problems. I get up early, see, but sometimes I like to go buck wild and sleep late...til, oh I don't know, 5. City, I know this doesn't sound like a lot since usually I'm up at 4, but sometimes that extra hour makes all the difference. So, if you could stop dumping dumpsters at 4 a.m., I'd appreciate it. And, tell the people next door to be on the porch and ready when their rides show up at 4:30 so there's not all this horn blowing going on. Thanks.

Also, stoplights. I understand the functionality of stop lights in the whole traffic flow situation. I get that they're timed and regulated and whatnot to make traffic movement efficient. In theory. I'm pretty sure a monkey with a laser pointer could set up a system better than yours. And, again, at 5 a.m., is it necessary to just randomly change a light to red on the main street when there are no other cars around but mine for a mile? Seriously. Why am I sitting at a red light when there aren't even lights on in people's houses? People are asleep, City. They don't need to make a left turn. I, however, need to get the hell to work. Oh, and that old man that I see running/walking every morning. Tell that old bastard that regardless of his reflective vest I'm gonna run him over one morning unless he gets his old wrinkled, big-eared ass up on the sidewalk where he belongs. If he's not going to use that sidewalk, can you move it to my street because I surely could use one there?

Thank you, City, for your consideration in these matters. I appreciate your ongoing effort to keep me safe and happy. At this time, too, I would like to toss a special Thank You to the fine police officers that feel it necessary to ride up and down my street eleventybillion times a night at high speeds. The speed limit is 25. If I was going 27, they'd pull me over. How is it that they can come through there pulling a good 45? It's not like they'd have time to notice if something illegal was going on anyway. They're already making the turn at the end of the street by the time you see them go by. It's like watching a drag race...But, enough moaning about my problems. Have a nice day, City and keep those dumpsters clean!!

Sincerely,

J.

the storm of the century

2007-08-27T07:51:00.000-04:00
Did you know that a thunderstorm with driving sideways rain can blow through a window in the back corner of the room 10-12 feet through said room to the opposite corner and thereby soak the floor, rug, the front of the couch, and cause water to stand on your coffee table? You didn't? Yeah, me either. Saturday afternoon. Saturday evening, after returning from an afternoon of melting in 105 degree heat, I learned this lesson. The storm ripped my back door open, causing leaves and sticks and water to be standing on my back porch/laundry room floor, soaked my bedroom carpet, burnt up a fan, and drenched the living room. Upon telling my friends about this freak of nature (I was 10 miles away at the time and saw nary a drop of rain), their first question was "It didn't hurt the tv did it?" To which I replied, "No, you would've seen the mushroom cloud over the city as my head exploded had the tv gotten wet." Stupid summer storms. I still like them, but resent them at the same time as now I'm paranoid and feel like I need to shut all my windows when I leave the house. Dammit. But, it's drying out, well it should be dry by the time I get home today, so all's well that ends well....but man did it throw a wrench in Saturday. I should've been home anyway. The Weather Channel was saying "stay inside" "stay out of the sun" "drink plenty of fluids"...all of which was my plan as I had a case of beer in the fridge and there was a baseball game coming on tv when my friend called wanting to go hit a couple golf balls. I don't play golf. Haven't since I had a phys-ed class in college to teach me how. Yeah, I haven't improved since then, but I haven't gotten 12 years worse either. I suppose that's something. I enjoyed playing a little though...I guess I should maybe learn? I don't know. I don't like all the other pretentious assholes out there. We played on a public par 3 course where there's no dress code or anything like that and we had 2 travel cups filled with a lovely margarita type drink, so that helped the fun factor a lot. But, to play on a real course? Nah...I think I'll stick with my usual recreational activities...making fun of people that take themselves too seriously without having to actually be around those people.

A Pattern, perhaps?

2007-08-23T09:40:00.000-04:00
Yesterday's post got me to thinking...well, that and yesterday's beers on the porch and watching the colleges move back in...about other times that involved porches, rain, and beer. Shut up about recurring themes here. A long long time ago in a galaxy far far away, I was in college with my best friends from home and a few new guys who mostly fit right in with us. We were in Morgantown, WV at WVU (Go 'Eers!), the land of afternoon drinking. Speaking of which, WVU is rated as the No. 1 Party School this year again! Way to get back up there guys!! Anyway, I digress. We were sitting on the porch watching it rain and ran out of beer. This being college, money wasn't readily available to us. One guy, however, had parents that were loaded. We didn't ever bum money from him, but if he offered to buy something, we didn't say no. Anyway, we were bemoaning the fact that he had the only fake ID and all the cash and that he should go down the hill and buy us some beer. Milwaukee's Best Light I believe was the fare of choice that day...and by that day, I mean most days. I was so happy when I finally got a job and could buy good beer and I haven't looked back since. I'll eat Ramen noodles to avoid going back to the Beast. He said he would go get it, but that we'd have to earn it. He bet us a 12 pack each (a whopping $10 now that I think about it) if my buddy and I would streak up the road in the rain to the stop sign and back. Eh, screw it, I thought...it's free beer...and we'd already had several at this point...So, we sent Ritchie (named for the county he came from...he never said a town name, just that he was from Ritchie County. Maybe they didn't have towns there.) to scan the street and make sure no one was coming at the time back from class or anything and up the 45 stairs to the street we went. Well, good old reliable Ritchie forgot to mention that the hot neighbor girl was sitting on her porch too. With her dogs. Big dogs. They started barking and made like they were coming to the street after us, at which point my buddy chickened out and went back inside. Not me, man. I wanted that sweet Beast. Besides, I was already almost to the stop sign. I spun around at the stop sign and that's where it all went bad. My worn out shoes couldn't hold up to the flood washing down the hill (everything out there is on a hill) and down I went...SMACK....right on my left hand/side. As long as nothing important hit the pavement, I didn't care at this point. Shaking it off (literally, I suppose) I hauled ass back to the house to find everyone there laughing that gasping, silent laugh and pointing and wheezing and I'm pretty sure trying not to piss their pants. I hastily dress and dispatch the guy to the store, because holy shit, I need a drink. It was about this time that I noticed my hand really hurt. Eh, no matter. It's just a bruise, it'll go away. Besides, here came my 12 pack up the hill. Later that night, my hand got more and more sore and started to look like someone had shoved a baseball under the skin. Damn....I put ice on it, held cold beers against it, anything I could do to try to alleviate the swelling. To no avail. I figured it would go away the next day. Nah. It got worse. And worse. Finally on day 4, I gave up and went to the hospital. You guessed it. I had shattered my knuckle and the bone under it. There was nothing they could do at this point because I'd waited 4 days to come in. He asked how I did it...I said I slipped on the stairs coming down to the house. What was I going to say? It was obvious from the road burn on it that that wasn't the fact, but still. He taped my fingers together and gave me some pills for the swelling and a nice fat bill for $500 that the insurance didn't cover. I told my mom and dad the same story about the stairs, but I don't think they bought it either. That was the most expensive beer ever. Even moreso than the $14 Guinness at the Pig and Whistle up there in NYC. To this day, I still have a little scar and my middle finger on my left hand doesn't work quite right....But, ah, the sweet Beast made it all ok......

I don't have a problem at all.....

2007-08-22T11:00:00.001-04:00
So I get home yesterday and open the old fridge to get a frosty beverage and realize that SHIT! THERE ARE ONLY 3 LEFT. Well, see, I have this thing where I hate to run out of beer. It doesn't matter that I only want 1 or 2, I need to have a bunch in there because, well, you never know. I think it's from growing up and having to find people to buy it for you and it being such a hassle that we always made sure we had plenty. Or I'm a drunk. Eh, either way. So, as the afternoon's thunderstorm passes (it's been raining every day right after I get home and it's soooo beautiful), I decide that I'm going to walk to the store at the end of the block and get some more beer. No problem. The sun's coming back out now. You can see where this is going, right? I get to the end of the street and am immediately filled with the dread that can only be known by someone that is as lazy as I am and also as thirsty and also is frustrated with the "moral sections" of this community. Yep, you guessed it. The gas station at the end of my street? Zealots. No beer. As I picked up the remains of my heart from the sidewalk, I now realized why it always takes that old guy down the street so long to get back with his beer.....Yeah, the next place to buy it is at the end of the street I'm now standing on. Niiiice. I can see the roof of where I'm going, so it can't be that far right? Off I go, fighting traffic, because why would the city need sidewalks? Pfft. I get there, and pull a Frogger to get across 6 lanes of traffic because there's a crosswalk but no walk lights. Again, why would you need that? I forgot that when you're in the crosswalk, it's kind of like in Young Guns when they were in the Sprit World. Beauty. I go in, finally, and get my beer and am then standing in line behind a girl that is as big around as a pencil and covered in crack sores on her face....counting change for a soda. Counting. And then putting one back because she didn't have a nickel and the stupid clerk wouldn't just give her one. I never carry cash or I'd have given it to her. Damn, man. Back up the street I go, but uh-oh...what's that? Thunder? Nah...it's just the storm moving on. That drop of water on my arm? Blowing off of a tree, surely. 3-2-1...MONSOON. I swear at this point the rain was blowing sideways. I know the people driving past are laughing...mostly because I could see them slow down and stare at me with their mouths open. Bastards. I think about my 12 pack. The cardboard's getting soaked. And you know what happens to cardboard when it gets wet? It's about as strong then as a piece of toilet paper. Well, not wanting to have to pick up cans of cold beer from the raging torrents of water now running down the sides of the road and over my ankles, I cradle my beer like a baby for the rest of the walk home. Thus garnering even more looks from the people driving by. I make my street again finally and can see my porch....when it quits raining. By now my sandals are so wet I can't keep them on my feet and I have to cross the street in front of the Nascar qualifying round.....Up on the porch and inside to put something dry on ....1/2 hour later and I'm home. Not that I mind walking in the rain, but next time I need beer? I'm totally driving.

Give my stomach to Milwaukee if they run out of beer

2007-08-20T06:39:00.000-04:00
"but please don't bury me down in that cold, cold ground"

I went to see John Prine Saturday night and learned a few things.

There are some really cool and wild older people out there.
Loafers should not be worn with shorts.
Just because you remember John Prine and enjoy his music doesn't make you less of a douche when you're talking about work while I'm trying to listen to the show. I didn't pay to hear your fucking mouth, asshole.
Old guys are impressed when a young punk like me knows all the words to all the songs.
I saw Amish Hipsters. Well, they weren't technically Amish because they were drunk as all hell and covered in tattoos, but they had the Amish clothes thing rockin'. And were incredibly funny.
I'm in love with the downtown area of the city the show was in. In. Love.
That being said, I will never go into the overly trendy bar that I stopped in for a few preshow beers and a snack ever again. Their appetizer? Bread with olive oil for dipping. I liked it, don't get me wrong. I'm not a caveman. But, something fried would've been a whole hell of a lot better.
Going to concerts and drinking beers by yourself is fun. The drive home...not so much. I get very sleepy with no one to talk to.
I left early Friday because I had a couple errands to run and nothing to do here, so I thought to myself "Self, let's get the hell outta here." Self, of course, was out the door before I could clock out. He's not much in the restraint area. No motivation, no willpower, just a huge urge to do fun things. I think that's why we get along so well. Anyway, so I go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond because I want some stuff for the house and I need a good spatula. It's insane how much I love that store. Also insane are the prices there. Then, off to Walmart where I, much to my surprise and Self's glee, the college girls have come back to town. I'm going to sound like a pig here, but I don't care. You see, where I live there is an incredible shortage of anything that's pleasing to the eye. If I was talking about paintings, living here would be like living in a Home Interior catalog. There are a couple nice things, but mostly not so much. But, all that changes at the end of August. And, to the man that invented the short plaid shorts and gray tshirt look....Thank. You.
So, being distracted in Walmart, Self could only manage to pick up a couple cases of beer and the bare essentials. At this point, time was ticking and I had to get home to meet a friend. Fast forward to hungover Saturday morning when I really wished that I would've gotten a couple more things Friday evening so I didn't have to go back out. Saturday's trip cost me a pile of money as I broke down and bought 40" of Liquid Crystal Display (or whatever it stands for) glory. I'll probably regret spending that much money, but hungover Self will not be denied things that make him feel good. And, High Plains Drifter did look damn good on it Saturday afternoon.....
The moral of the story: Don't shop when hungover with someone that has no willpower....

now he needs WD-40

2007-08-16T09:28:00.000-04:00

Apparently Billy Ray Cyrus is not the only Man of Wonder coming out of Kentucky. Speaking of Billy Ray, I once got a haircut in the very shop that he used to frequent before becoming a “famous” “musician.” No, they didn’t give me the royal treatment and make my hair look like his either. Luckily.

Anyway, back to our story. This man was arrested for robbery. Note the mask. Made of duct tape. I know it’s a very useful thing to have around, but, um, isn’t it going to hurt when he takes it off? What’s next? Duct tape underwear? They should’ve let him go free because he obviously needs the money. The poor guy can’t even afford a proper mask. No wonder he got caught. It’s nearly impossible to do a job right without the correct tools. And when you’re robbing something, a mask is pretty damn important. Plus, he’s obviously bat-shit crazy. He put duct tape on his face. His Face. Face. Duct tape. Sticky, hard to remove (especially in the heat) duct tape. Speaking for all hillbillies out there, I’m sorry that this guy made the news. And, I’m sorry, Kentucky, that your name once again is associated with this kind of foolishness. I choose to not think of this idiot and Billy Ray but rather remember fondly drinking beer by the light of the flames from the refinery.

because it's one of THOSE days

2007-08-15T11:24:00.000-04:00

Since Midwesterner is live blogging today and I'm caught up in that like a crack addict, you get random bullshit. Enjoy.

So I'm walking back through the breakroom from my umpteenth break of the morning when I notice a table filled with snack machine goodies. They take the "out of date" things out when they restock it and just leave them on the table for us. Brilliant! What in a snack machine wouldn't last through a nuclear winter and still be lip-smackingly delicious? Exactly.

I picked up a bag of Honey BBQ chips and made my way smugly back to my desk with my newfound wealth. Opening the bag, I noticed the furious looking bee on the bag chomping on a chip. He looks totally EXTREME (whatever that means). Plus, he's totally ghetto, posing against a brick wall/honey comb with the graffiti type lettering at the bottom of the bag. I mean, are people this stupid that they think that this packaging is attractive and that they MUST. HAVE. THESE. CHIPS??? I mean, come on, I wouldn't have gotten them if it weren't for the fact that they cost FREE. At this point, I was expecting a shitty BBQ chip with a tang of honey (?) or something that was supposedly sweet...I. Was. Wrong. These were some of the best chips I've had. Surprisingly smooth and sweet with a bite of decent BBQ flavour. Go me. I went back and got another bag for later....

But, seriously, check out this bee. What in the hell is his problem?

now I have to clean potato chip crumbs out of my scanner.
**today's blog brought to you by Herr's Honey BBQ Potato Chips

To sleep perchance to dream...

2007-08-14T07:38:00.000-04:00
After sweating myself to death all day Friday, dropping more F bombs than Samuel L. Jackson, and listening to a grown man scream/sing along with Cindi Lauper while scrubbing my floors, I'm finally moved in and almost settled. I still need to hang pictures, but that can happen anytime as I find it nearly impossible to make a decision.

Does anyone try to stick one in you more than a mattress salesman? Seriously, they moved up the list to right under car salesman as People That Deserve A Special Seat In Hell. I understand that a good mattress costs at least $1000. I paid for one not 2 years ago. It was like sleeping on a cloud. The mattress I have now is like sleeping on a very lumpy rock. Except possibly harder because you're expecting that sweet mattress softness. So when I see an ad for a similar mattress for $300, I run into the store like a guy with a fistful of dollars into a strip club. AND, they're having a buy one get one free sale. I don't need 2 mattresses, but if it's free, I'll sell it to someone for 1/2 of what I paid. BONUS! I'll pause while your anticipation of reality crushing my dream yet again builds.....Ok, now that we're all on the same page.... The $300 is only for the mattress. The box spring is another $300. If you buy just the mattress (who in the hell would do that anyway?) it's even higher. And, that one doesn't count in the buy one get one free deal. To get that, you have to spend $1000. And, the free mattress? Go ahead, guess at the quality of that one. It's very much like mine except with a new tag on it. I wouldn't hit a dog in the ass with it. I mean, if someone's getting hosed on this mattress, I want to be the one doing the hosing....While I know it's worth the money to have a good mattress and get a good night's sleep, and $600 isn't a bad deal, let's be honest here. I fall asleep in front of the tv most nights on the couch. And, for $600 + a couple more, I can have a 52" television to sleep in front of. And, what's gonna get more use? The tv or the bed? Judging by how things are going, the tv's the best bet here in that scenario. I think I'm going to use my Bed Bath and Beyond coupon to buy one of those feather toppers and put it on my old bed and watch a new television while I save money to buy a mattress later in the year ....

In other news, not much. And I love it. I got home yesterday and unpacked some clothes and promptly repacked them to be taken to Goodwill, watched a little mindless tv, made dinner, and went to sleep (eventually in the bed)....Sheer beauty, friends.

Where IS that damn white belt to go with these shoes?

2007-08-09T06:49:00.000-04:00
I HATE talking about the weather. HATE. IT. It's the one thing we all have in common and the one thing that we can't do a damned thing about, and it's the first thing people turn to when they don't have anything at all to say. Trust me, I'm ok with silence. But, as I'm getting older, I find myself turning to it too. I know, right? I caught myself yesterday.

Speaking of which, it's Africa Hot here today. Already. I mean, I know people live in hot places all over the U.S., but this midatlantic region is "temperate." Where's all this global warming in the winter time when my heating bill goes haywire? Gore, you idiot. I wouldn't mind the heat so bad if I were, say, in Florida or Mexico or on an island somewhere laid up on the beach with a frosty beverage in one hand and a tanned bikini-clad girl in the other. But, as it is, I'm sitting at work with what could possibly be the largest collection of ugly women under one roof outside of a Circus Freak Convention. And, that fact coupled with the heat = me losing my mind.

In other non-noteworthy news, the Big Move 2007 is scheduled for tomorrow. I remember things such as friendship and fun and taking days off to help buddies move. I'm going to be doing the bulk of it by myself tomorrow until someone can see fit to come over after work and help with big things. Assholes. I'm SO not buying you beer now. I would've before. That's just a given. A prerequisite, really. Especially when it's hot. Getting older sucks. That or my friends do. Or both....or maybe I just call in to work indiscriminately whereas they feel some sort of loyalty to their jobs....eh, tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to. Either way, I'm gonna be settled in that place tomorrow night, most likely after making a midnight run to the store to buy an air conditioner and then trying to install it in the window without dropping it to the ground below, causing me to have to rebox it and take it back and tell them that it was broken when I opened it and nevermind about the grass in the fins and just give me another one because what kind of racket are you trying to run here?! Um, not that something like that has ever happened....

There's free beer involved if any of you would like to carry boxes tomorrow!!! I know it's tempting.....

edit: I hate to give this piece of shit any mention or thought in anything I do or say or at any given point throughout the day, but this is the best Bonds story you'll read and one that won't appear in "sports" journals.

take your seaside arms and write the next line...

2007-08-07T07:15:00.000-04:00
There's a girl that comes over from time to time and laughs. And sings. And quotes random movies and song lyrics. And eats my food. And sometimes drinks my beer. And lays on my floor with big toothy grins and bright blue eyes longing for something, hair spilling over my pillow leaving her scent (marking territory?). There are songs we love and songs she won't listen to with me that may or may not belie something bigger that cannot be. Sometimes she'll hug me when she comes over, then again later, and then when she leaves...sometimes she lingers. Sometimes she falls asleep on the couch and I bring her a blanket. And she laughs. And sings.

hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ

2007-08-03T08:39:00.000-04:00
I've found my calling in life. Well, if not my calling, at least a part-time vocation. I want to be a DJ. Not one of those people that run down the preprogrammed playlist and read the weather and news and pre-record their shows at 8 am to air that night at midnight. I want to be the late night guy, the evening guy, the guy that's there while some poor stiff is working the midnight shift. I want to be THERE. That way, should someone be bored or lonely, a friendly voice with his/her favourite song is only a phone call and an airwave away. Plus, I'd be great at it because there'd be none of the crap music playing that oozes out of the radio stations here. No buzzkiller music. I mean seriously, don't they know that people are sitting around drinking beer and cooking out in the evenings? How can you follow a good time, good vibe song with something utterly sappy, romantic, and/or suicidally depressing? Buzz. Killers. I would keep the upbeat mood going all the time. Or, perhaps, we could have theme nights...and if you didn't want to tune in on "I hate my life night" then you wouldn't have to. But, it surely wouldn't be sprung on you unawares in the middle of a good joke and a cold beer. I was on my way in this morning listening to "Don't You Forget About Me" and holding my fist in the air because, yeah, that's what you do when you hear that song and planning my day and my evening and my weekend and generally feeling good because it's Friday when all of a sudden Jewel came on. She's ok, but she has a time and a place. 5 am isn't it. I don't need to hear about broken hearts and misery and sappy love and how everything's gonna be ok in some magical place we'll call "the Future" and blah blah blah because shit, man, I'm on the way to work and I want, nay NEED, to feel good today. Turn that shit off. And in the same breath, what's up with John Tesh? I wish he'd crawl back under his Entertainment Tonight washed-up ass rock and quit trying to make me gay and afraid to go outside for fear of germs or offending someone or some other ungodly terror that lurks outside my door. Jesus.

I'd even do the DJ job for free. Well, not for free. They'd have to get me a cold 12 pack of beer....and then, the game would be on. Tune in, turn on, and drop out!

an epiphany or an affirmation?

2007-08-02T12:08:00.000-04:00
I realized yesterday after not doing anything all day and going out to eat the most wonderful crab cakes I've had in a long time and drinking a pitcher of beer with my dad's friend, that I'm so not ready to grow up and all that jazz....because after dinner we came home and sat on the porch and another friend stopped by and we drank some more...coffee. I could've done with another bunch of beers myself.... I feel better in responsible shoes, but they're just a little uncomfortable sometimes.

At least I don't live in the basement...

2007-08-01T13:51:00.000-04:00
Well, after 2 days of moving (read: sweating and cussing and finally throwing things willy-nilly into the storage unit), I'm done. Moved, cleaned, and Sold. It was approximately 150,685 degrees yesterday as I was packing such important items as the shampoo from my shower, the paper towel rack, the bathroom rugs (which most likely I will throw away when I unpack....next week), a cutting board, etc. You know, all the things that you forget you have until you need to move them somewhere or after you throw them away and then must re-purchase them at a highly inflated rate. It seriously took 1 hour to move all the big things with mucho laughter and a few beers on Monday evening, but Tuesday took a shit all over me. I got an early start and made one fruitful trip, ate lunch, and then was left to my own devices for the rest of the day. Bad idea. I'm not good at working on something alone when not getting paid for it. I'm totally the person that wanders around the house for an hour or two...ok, maybe two...with a box in my hands or a roll of paper towels or both muttering and rubbing my forehead because I just don't know where to start or whether to just burn it down or throw everything away and lock the door or curl up into the fetal position. Thankfully, a well-timed phone call and the realization that after 3 months of not doing anything, I now had 3 hours to finish EVERYTHING. I walked out at 4:55...just as the buyers were pulling in to do their final walkthrough. We closed this morning. I may have danced a jig (a la the Last Boyscout) on my way out of the room.

That all being said, I'm now staying at my dad's til I move again next Friday. But, I have a neat little room with my own personal air conditioner and since I'm off work today, absolutely nothing to do. Sure, I should pitch in and cut the grass or something, but to that I say hell no. I don't get a day off during the week very often...unless you count, um, yesterday...today...and next Friday.

When the a/c units kick on upstairs, the lights flash. Just like in the old prison movies when someone gets fried in the chair. If I see a mouse or a really, really big black guy, I'm getting the hell out of here.

Frank Sinatra's on the radio now...all music, all day...fitting for an antique shop, or shoppe if you prefer...but it's not the same without a glass of wine. Of course, it IS 2:00...hell, I'm having one.

zippity do dah....

2007-07-27T07:25:00.000-04:00
Things that make me feel good today....or, I'm not focused enough to concentrate

The Chieftains playing a traditional reel was the first song on my radio this morning .
It was followed by The Highwaymen singing I'm gonna live forever .
I had my favourite mexican dinner last evening and even have some left over today.
I spent some good time with my dad last night.
He actually approved of the apartment I want and managed to "negotiate" $25 off of the rent. I had no idea that was possible.
I'm going to take the apartment...provided it's cleaned VERY well and the chimney is cleaned out too so I can use the fireplace.
It's a VERY old house, so the spacing and layout leaves a little to be desired, but I think I can make it into something very awesome.
I think I still get a month to live stay at dad's while the rental agency gets the place ready.
I should save a good bit of money every month by not having the house.
My friends are driving here this weekend instead of me going there because it's my last weekend in the house.
It's my last weekend in the house!
Soon I will have The Awesomest Porch Ever!
I need to buy a WVU flag to fly.
I'm wearing my Championship Vinyl t-shirt today and since losing a couple pounds, I resemble John Cusack more than Jack Black. And that's always good.
Did I mention that this is my last weekend being saddled with in the house?

Have a great weekend everyone!

that's a bitchin' camaro!

2007-07-26T08:33:00.000-04:00
I, admittedly, am not a fashion plate by any means. I mean, I know what looks good and what doesn't, but I'm not overly concerned with what's new and hip (does anyone say that anymore or did I just really prove my point when I didn't mean to?). I never really think about it because my wardrobe consists mainly of black tshirts, shorts, jeans, and the occasional khakis or some similarly colored/styled "nice" pants. I like it this way because it keeps all that pesky decision making at 4:30 a.m. to a minimum. And, I've never had to think about it when it comes to getting haircuts because either there was a girl there telling me how to cut it or what would look good, or the stylist knew me well enough to say "this is what we're going to do, you'll like it." Besides, I thought hairstylists were like doctors with some kind of Oath that says they won't intentionally let you look bad when you leave. Maybe not. They should have one though. Apparently, they need one. The lady that works next to me got her hair done yesterday and boy did they do a number on her. She looks like she has a Def Leppard tape I need to borrow. Oh. My. God. If she had some acid washed jeans on, it'd be like a time portal in here. Actually, I'm sure there's a pair in her closet waiting (working?) for the weekend. Don't get me wrong, I love all things 80s. But, there's a line when it comes to hairstyles. Unless it's a mohawk or something equally wild...I always wanted blue crazy hair like the dude from the Cure...but I digress. How can the stylist knowingly commit this act of fashion murder? I think she went to high school with the stylist, so maybe they were just keeping it real and harking back to the good old days or something, but damn, man. When she got back yesterday, my friend and I were leaning on the big processor in my office and had to turn and run back into my cube to keep from busting out laughing. So far today, I've kept contact to a minimum because I'm not over it yet. I figure it'll be at least a week. Til then, I'm turning up my Van Halen and livin' on a prayer .....

xoxo,
J.

anthony works in a grocery store...

2007-07-25T06:43:00.000-04:00
If that's movin' up, then mama I'm movin' out.

I called yesterday about an apt. and rode by to look at it and fill out an application for it. I don't know why this seems like such a big deal to me. I mean, I knew it was coming and it's not like I'm moving across the country with $4 in my pocket...although sometimes I think that would be easier for some reason. I think I tend to find comfort in the extreme. I'm just waiting now to go back and actually see inside it. It has a working fireplace and a big porch and is on a side street in the "city." I think I like it. I think I'm really, really excited...and really, really scared for some stupid reason. I think some of that is the fact that it doesn't quite gel with my timeline that I had planned and now I have to figure an all new one and blah blah blah...Obsessive much? No, not me.

This is the first time I've ever done something like this on my own. Usually, although I'm the one doing things and getting things and setting things up, someone's there to handle the tiny details and hold my hand and tell me that I'm gonna be ok and to quit freaking out. Jesus, it's 10 miles from where I live now if that. It's not like it's a radical change or anything. But, at the same time it is. On a different level. On a more internal level. It's more than just an apartment and moving. This is the beginning. A beginning of something that I actually can't see how it's going to turn out. I know I'll have more money in my pocket so maybe my dinners will improve. I know that I'll be about a mile from downtown so I can walk places instead of sitting around wishing there was something to do. I know that I'll be able to see people from where I'll be sitting. I know I haven't even seen the inside of it yet and don't know if I'll like it or not or if the people upstairs walk like they have cinderblocks for feet, but I'm already making plans for the fireplace and football and chili and porch sits and tailgates on Autumn Saturdays. Yeah, I think this is going to be good....

are you talking to Me??

2007-07-23T08:18:00.000-04:00
I have a confession to make. Apparently, I'm not as big of a bad-ass, wicked awesome person as I may have earlier thought. Rest assured, I'm still very awesome, or perhaps even more awesome than before, but right now I'm not completely sure. I may even be a little embarrassed, but maybe not...and I guess it doesn't matter because I'm pretty much putting this out here for the entire world to view...*sigh* well, let's just see.

Friday I was sitting at my favourite bar, which now offers Half! Price! Drinks! Every! Friday! Afternoon!, minding my own business and trying to down a few big beers before the price went back up when all of a sudden someone was sitting next to me talking. This is kind of unusual because I tend to sit away from other people and concentrate mainly on people watching and/or eavesdropping and mostly just want to be left alone. But, no...here was this woman sitting next to me. Chatting me up. Me! Hmph. I wasn't sure what to make of it and thought she was being polite and everything up until she said that since the half price time was over that I should come back to her place and drink for free. I looked around to make sure that, you know, I was in fact the person she was talking to, picked my jaw up off of the floor, and lit another cigarette trying to channel James Dean or someone equally indifferent and cool and used to these kinds of propositions. You see, dear reader, this is the first time that this has happened to me. I was largely out of circulation for most of my young life, so lately I'm kind of reborn, if you will. Either way, I could've been 16 and fumbling at this point.

I laughed it off and talked my way out of it though...Maybe it was too many beers, maybe it was too much change over the past 3 years, maybe it was a hundred different things, but I realized that for once I think I'm more interested in conversation and stuff like that than anything else. I know, right?! It scared me too. I beat myself up Friday night/Saturday morning over it, but the more I thought about and as Saturday dawned blue and clear and beautiful, I knew I made the right decision and was actually pretty proud of myself. I'm pretty sure this means that I'll die frustrated and alone, but there are worse things I suppose. Especially after talking to my friend, who's a nurse and she explained all the hazards of hooking up with people...geez. Gross. Anyway....we'll see I suppose, but now my favourite bar is tainted for awhile and I think I'm more upset by that.

are you done with that?

2007-07-20T06:53:00.000-04:00
You know what I hate? Well, there's one hell of a list, so I'm just going to assume that you don't know the whole list and we really don't have the time for me to get into making one, so let's just start with this one thing, mmmkay?

I hate people that don't eat all their food. I went to a bar/restaurant yesterday after stopping at the grocery store, spending $20 and still having nothing I felt like eating, to have a beer or 4 and use my Free Appetizer coupon that they gave me the last time I was there for filling out some survey and telling them how awesome they are. Yeah, I lie pretty well in surveys...especially when free shit is offered. Anyway, said chain restaurant is not the coolest place ever, but the bartender recognizes me when I come in, the mugs o' beverage are 1.50, and it's pretty close to my house. And, usually it's pretty empty when I get there. Well, not yesterday. Not only am I being bombarded by these god-awful talk shows on ESPN (are there no real sports left on ESPN? It's like the MTV of sports), but there are people everywhere. Skinny guy sits down next to me at the bar, orders a bacon cheeseburger and a sweet iced tea. Dude. You HAVE to drink a beer with a bacon cheeseburger. It's a law. If not, it should be. No, officer, I'm not drunk. I mean, I ate a bacon cheeseburger for dinner and had the required beers with it. Oh, ok, sir, be safe and have a good night. Anyway, he proceeds to read the paper and "eat." For half an hour I had to smell this wonderfully delicious hamburger and watch him pick over it like some kind of bird picking at worms in the grass. Finally after he ate the now cold french fries and half of his burger, he slides the plate away and pays and leaves. Note: I'm now STARVING. Across from me, an older couple have like 3 salads between them, an appetizer, and 2 steak and shrimp dinners. The lady boxes up 1/2 a salad, starts in on the appetizer, pushes it aside and begins work on the steak and shrimp. There's about 1/2 to 1/4 of the steak left when she pushes it away from her. I glance over and her husband has done the same thing. WTF? I could live off of these people's scraps, man. Diagonally, another couple. Same deal. I don't care if you don't eat it all...some people are not gluttons like me, but at least take it home with you and feed it to your dog or throw it away there....Guys like me that have to scrounge free appetizers don't need to see a perfectly good steak go to waste. Not when they're $20 a pop. Plus I was raised with the waste not-want not philosophy. I'm 33 fucking years old and still haven't figured out what that means. I just know it meant that we didn't throw anything away...ever. My mother still doesn't. It's scary some of the stuff that gets recycled into 3 or 4 meals from her refridgerator.

I'm glad today's Friday...now I can go home and hide out from these freaks here for 2 days and try to regain a little composure. Or, maybe I'll go to the store and grill myself a steak...and eat the whole damn thing.

The Circus Is Falling Down On Its Knees

2007-07-19T11:07:00.001-04:00
There always was something magical about the summertime. I think it stemmed from all those years spent in school, trapped inside for the beginnings of Spring, but when the weather turned warm, we were set free. I think that's why we were drawn so much to the night. The sun would start to set and a breeze would pick up, and once that generator started up, the show began again. Standing there under the flashing lights, smelling the food, surrounded by music and voices and the roar of the rides, we spoke without saying a word. A quick glance, a fleeting touch in between barking our entertainment to the masses...the smell of perfume mixed with cotton candy, dirt, and sweat. These things were summer. These things are summer. Coloured flags are flying now right down the street, the moon sits heavy and yellowing in the night sky as the crickets chirp...and in the midnight silence, I still see you in my old worn flannel shirt (linus, you called it because you never went anywhere without it)...slipping your hand into mine as we leaned against the car and smoked one last cigarette in the aftermath of a night's chaos, and you'd turn and say come on buddy, let's go home. As much as a real adult life stepped in, I think a part of us still runs those roads, walks those midways, and dances in the lights. Maybe we grew up too fast. Maybe I never did. Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'll meet you again beside the game trailer and just for a minute we won't remember that we're not still there.

----for some reason I can't get her out of my mind lately. ----and now back to the regularly scheduled drivel.

It'll cure what ails you....

2007-07-18T07:02:00.000-04:00
I'm here today to talk about America's drug problem. Not the drug problem of pot smokers eating all the pizza and leftovers and 2 months past the expiration date peanut butter *cough* um, not me *cough*, or the meth heads that make it impossible to buy cold medicine at Wal-Mart so you have to stand in the eternal pharmacy line for 25 minutes and show an id when all you really want to do is lay on your couch in some pill induced haze....No, I'm talking about prescription drugs. There's a prescription pill now for everything. You feel bad? You hate your life? Here, take this pill and you'll be all sunshine and roses and won't care about a damned thing. Have anger issues? Don't take this one, though, because it'll make you into a killer zombie. Take this other one that will pack 25 lbs. on you out of nowhere, but you'll be so numb that you won't give a shit anyway. Besides, we have another pill you can take that will melt that weight right off. The shakes? Oh, don't worry about that and the blinding headaches. They're side effects that only occur in a few people. Can't get it up? Here, take this one. Just make sure it doesn't stay up for too long or it'll damage you permanently. Also, you might get the shits, so keep an extra pair of underwear handy and don't drink too much with it either. As a matter of fact, most of the prescription drugs out there tell you not to drink alcohol with them and carry a risk of stomach discomfort, headaches, etc. It makes no sense to me. I drink beer. It comes with the euphoria of the antidepressants (at least til I pass out), some slight discomfort in the morning (depending on how much I drink), and a severe desire for a greasy breakfast at 3 a.m., but other than that, it works pretty damn well for what ails me. And, the upside? Other people can join in it with you and then you're all in the same boat. It's a social lubricant. Win! And Win!

What sparked this conversation, however, is a totally new drug, a new side effect that almost made me roll off of the couch laughing last night. Restless Leg Syndrome is apparently the newest super villain to be fought off by the Hall of Prescription Drug Justice League and there's a new Super Hero stepping up to take on RLS. Of course, I can't remember the name of it now, but the side effects include nausea, headaches, grogginess or just plain passing out (so you can't drive or drink or both when you're taking it) but here's the kicker.....it may cause intense gambling and/or sexual compulsive urges. Gambling and sex? Compulsive? I'm pretty sure at this point, they're just putting alcohol into pill form. I can see it now.....

Jesus, honey, I'm tired, but I've got the jimmy legs tonight. All I want to do is to go to sleep, but my legs are pulling a fucking Fred Astaire down there and it's killing me. Here, darling, take this pill...it'll calm you right down and we can get some rest. Thanks, babe. 30 mins. pass...Whew, I feel much better. What say I tie you to the bed post and ravage your body with these kitchen instruments and then we head to the track? There's a horse running tonight and it's a lock!

Now, I'm not making light of the jimmy legs. It happens to me once in awhile too. It's miserable. A-1 miserable. But, I think people should consider having a couple beers after work before dinner. Then, once you eat, you feel all full and lazy and can just turn on some mindless drivel on television and fall right to sleep. That's my prescription. 6 beers, a big hamburger, and the discovery channel (or one of those forensic shows...those guys have the quietest voices...puts me to sleep everytime). It's free of charge and apparently a lot healthier than all these pharmaceutical remedies. Now I just need a superhero name.......

Here's to your health! Cheers!

No special sauce for me, thanks

2007-07-17T09:05:00.000-04:00

I stopped at McDonald's for breakfast this morning on the way to work (because I'm a health nut) and opted for the combo meal with coffee. Really I just like to see how much abuse my body can take in any given week before it revolts and forces me to eat a salad or something. Anyway, I was sitting here staring intently at the coffee cup (because that's how hard I work) when I noticed little selector things on the side for marking how the coffee's made. It had an oval for each of the following choices: Cream, Sugar, Sweetener, and Other. Just what in the hell is Other?? Are they putting shots of whisky in coffee now at Mickey D's? Or is that for when you really piss off the counter person? I'll just take mine black, thankyouverymuch.