Don't open your eyes
you won't like what you see
The devils of truth
steal the souls of the free
Well that was a hell of a post to leave up for way too long.
Things have been good since last I typed here. The week following I went on an AWESOME rafting trip with friends and family. We ended up a bar the 2nd night where I had much fun watching the drunken antics instead of performing them. I even danced for 4 hours! Not competently, but still. It was fun and I got to see my mom hit on by a 20-something who reeled her in on the dance floor. Hellz yeah bitches.
Anyway, I don't have anything really funny to report, I really just wanted that damn alky post off the front page. Thanks to all for the groovy comments and luuurve, it was appreciated. I have tons of blogs to burn through, now just need the time to do it. See ya in the comment sections kids!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
I'm not an alcoholic.
I am, however, a really bad drunk.
This won't be a very funny post, or very interesting for that matter, sorry. Still, writing crap does have a way of ordering thoughts and setting things in place. Plus, as I mentioned in my last non-funny post (point it out for a prize!) doing it in public is a nice way of challenging myself to make some sort of change.
Last weekend, as I have for the last 4 weekends, I got very drunk. Not "haha I said something risque" drunk or "oh ho, I sure got sick and felt horrible the next day" drunk. More like "Out of control, gulping Whiskey straight from the bottle, embarrassing people close to me, angering everyone, running around like a monkey on speed, blacking out and having to have things explained to me the next day" drunk.
I had 2 separate people say the same, slightly strangely worded phrase to me the next day, which really brought home how bad it was: "Bob Dobalina, I was scared that you were trying to murder yourself". What caught me at first was the odd choice of word, murder. Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized they were both using that word for a specific reason. This isn't killing, which can be accidental. My drinking to blackout/oblivion was deliberate. That scared the shit out of me.
I used to drink, a lot. I'm a chronic insomniac, it's a family thing, and passing out is one way to deal with it. I did that for several years. Then I stopped. I was given mild tranq's to prevent DT's for the first few weeks, tossed my liquor collection and from then on used reading to deal with the late nights. I didn't drink for years.
Then I felt ok and started again. Sometimes just a beer. Sometimes a drunk as described above.
Here's the thing: I don't drink every day. I don't drink every weekend (though you wouldn't know it by looking at July) or even every other week. Sometimes months go by between drunks. But when I do drink, I can't seem to stop. I feel good. I drink some more. I feel happy and silly and fun. And then I drink some more. And then I get offended. And then I drink some more. And then I get angry. And then I drink some more. And then I get confused. And then I drink some more. And then I don't know what is happening.. so I drink some more until I'm gone.
I've been forced by my last episode to take a hard look at myself and admit that even though I don't drink every day, I still have a drinking problem. It's not fucking normal to drink like that. And ignoring it, or blaming it on drinking "hard alcohol", or blaming it on drug interactions, is not going to help. And yes I used each of those excuses when friends or family asked why I got so crazy.
Anyway, that was the weekend. Yesterday I asked a few of my good friends what they thought about my drinking. Without hesitation, all of them said some variation of the following: "You can get.. mean. It's scary. I've wanted to say something but you seem to only do it every once in a while so I didn't think it was that bad but I know when you do drink, to watch out. I look in your eyes and you aren't there any more". These are my FRIENDS. I don't blame them for not saying anything, I have no idea at all what I'd do in that situation, but I can still feel mortified that I let it get this far before doing something about it.
So I am. I'm going to talk to someone who deals with this stuff professionally and do a lot of talking. Or a lot of listening, I hear that can be good too.
I doubt I'll be blogging about what comes next, only because I don't think it will be very interesting. In the unlikely event that anyone who has ever had to deal with my drunk ass reads this, please know I'm embarrassed and sorry. Thanks to everyone who didn't take a swing at me. I always told my friends that I'd hate to be "that guy" at the party that's sloppy and out of control.
I'm that guy. Dammit.
This won't be a very funny post, or very interesting for that matter, sorry. Still, writing crap does have a way of ordering thoughts and setting things in place. Plus, as I mentioned in my last non-funny post (point it out for a prize!) doing it in public is a nice way of challenging myself to make some sort of change.
Last weekend, as I have for the last 4 weekends, I got very drunk. Not "haha I said something risque" drunk or "oh ho, I sure got sick and felt horrible the next day" drunk. More like "Out of control, gulping Whiskey straight from the bottle, embarrassing people close to me, angering everyone, running around like a monkey on speed, blacking out and having to have things explained to me the next day" drunk.
I had 2 separate people say the same, slightly strangely worded phrase to me the next day, which really brought home how bad it was: "Bob Dobalina, I was scared that you were trying to murder yourself". What caught me at first was the odd choice of word, murder. Then the more I thought about it, the more I realized they were both using that word for a specific reason. This isn't killing, which can be accidental. My drinking to blackout/oblivion was deliberate. That scared the shit out of me.
I used to drink, a lot. I'm a chronic insomniac, it's a family thing, and passing out is one way to deal with it. I did that for several years. Then I stopped. I was given mild tranq's to prevent DT's for the first few weeks, tossed my liquor collection and from then on used reading to deal with the late nights. I didn't drink for years.
Then I felt ok and started again. Sometimes just a beer. Sometimes a drunk as described above.
Here's the thing: I don't drink every day. I don't drink every weekend (though you wouldn't know it by looking at July) or even every other week. Sometimes months go by between drunks. But when I do drink, I can't seem to stop. I feel good. I drink some more. I feel happy and silly and fun. And then I drink some more. And then I get offended. And then I drink some more. And then I get angry. And then I drink some more. And then I get confused. And then I drink some more. And then I don't know what is happening.. so I drink some more until I'm gone.
I've been forced by my last episode to take a hard look at myself and admit that even though I don't drink every day, I still have a drinking problem. It's not fucking normal to drink like that. And ignoring it, or blaming it on drinking "hard alcohol", or blaming it on drug interactions, is not going to help. And yes I used each of those excuses when friends or family asked why I got so crazy.
Anyway, that was the weekend. Yesterday I asked a few of my good friends what they thought about my drinking. Without hesitation, all of them said some variation of the following: "You can get.. mean. It's scary. I've wanted to say something but you seem to only do it every once in a while so I didn't think it was that bad but I know when you do drink, to watch out. I look in your eyes and you aren't there any more". These are my FRIENDS. I don't blame them for not saying anything, I have no idea at all what I'd do in that situation, but I can still feel mortified that I let it get this far before doing something about it.
So I am. I'm going to talk to someone who deals with this stuff professionally and do a lot of talking. Or a lot of listening, I hear that can be good too.
I doubt I'll be blogging about what comes next, only because I don't think it will be very interesting. In the unlikely event that anyone who has ever had to deal with my drunk ass reads this, please know I'm embarrassed and sorry. Thanks to everyone who didn't take a swing at me. I always told my friends that I'd hate to be "that guy" at the party that's sloppy and out of control.
I'm that guy. Dammit.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Access.. Granted.
Tomorrow at 2pm I have an appointment to meet the owner of the Data Center my company uses for our offsite hosting. I will be given 2 keys, a rfid badge, and have my palm print scanned so I enter the building w/o the former head tech with me.
YES.
On the downside things aren't looking up with Dell. The last email, from the supposed server specialist, said "wow, that sounds really frustrating.. maybe we should get tech support involved in this". Umm.. guy:
YOU FORGOT TO INCLUDE A PART I NEED. A PART OF A PACKAGE WE PAID OVER $10,000 FOR.
What the hell? Is tech support going to teach me how to create my own SD card using common office supplies then code the proprietary 'embedded server' software in Notepad? Or are they going to walk me through sitting around, waiting for the Fedex guy to deliver that part?
For those playing at home, the correct answer should have been "damn, I'm so sorry, I'll fedex out the card overnight, Saturday delivery, and you'll be up and running tomorrow. Also you are very strong and admired by your peers."
YES.
On the downside things aren't looking up with Dell. The last email, from the supposed server specialist, said "wow, that sounds really frustrating.. maybe we should get tech support involved in this". Umm.. guy:
YOU FORGOT TO INCLUDE A PART I NEED. A PART OF A PACKAGE WE PAID OVER $10,000 FOR.
What the hell? Is tech support going to teach me how to create my own SD card using common office supplies then code the proprietary 'embedded server' software in Notepad? Or are they going to walk me through sitting around, waiting for the Fedex guy to deliver that part?
For those playing at home, the correct answer should have been "damn, I'm so sorry, I'll fedex out the card overnight, Saturday delivery, and you'll be up and running tomorrow. Also you are very strong and admired by your peers."
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Dell you effing douche
This is a bitch post.
I've been waiting all week for this new server to arrive at work. It's going to be the first of many (hopefully) uber machines that we will have multiple virtual servers on. This one in particular is set to have 6 Win Server 2k3 and 1 2k8 running simultaneously, reducing the rackspace used at our datacenter and allowing us to expand much quicker and easier. I've been running 3 virtual servers on an older web server I use to test new stuff on and so far it's been running great.
So I go into the office tonight at 9pm to get it setup. I'm just going to be installing the embedded VMware OS (32 Mb! Almost no overhead!), then installing 3 instances of the Win2k3 server. We even bought the licenses through Dell so everything should be good to go.
Dell, you effing douche.
Open it up, throw it on the temp rack, plugs it all in.. and those dumbasses forgot to include the SD card with the VMware server operating system. Which turned out to be ok, because they also forgot to include the licenses for the Win Servers, so even if they had included the embedded server, I still wouldn't have been able to go any further. So I guess I should be thankful they made their fuckuperry so obvious from the beginning so I only wasted an hour.
This feels like when I was a kid and I ran into the living room to open my presents on Christmas day only to be told that we had just converted to Judaism.
I've been waiting all week for this new server to arrive at work. It's going to be the first of many (hopefully) uber machines that we will have multiple virtual servers on. This one in particular is set to have 6 Win Server 2k3 and 1 2k8 running simultaneously, reducing the rackspace used at our datacenter and allowing us to expand much quicker and easier. I've been running 3 virtual servers on an older web server I use to test new stuff on and so far it's been running great.
So I go into the office tonight at 9pm to get it setup. I'm just going to be installing the embedded VMware OS (32 Mb! Almost no overhead!), then installing 3 instances of the Win2k3 server. We even bought the licenses through Dell so everything should be good to go.
Dell, you effing douche.
Open it up, throw it on the temp rack, plugs it all in.. and those dumbasses forgot to include the SD card with the VMware server operating system. Which turned out to be ok, because they also forgot to include the licenses for the Win Servers, so even if they had included the embedded server, I still wouldn't have been able to go any further. So I guess I should be thankful they made their fuckuperry so obvious from the beginning so I only wasted an hour.
This feels like when I was a kid and I ran into the living room to open my presents on Christmas day only to be told that we had just converted to Judaism.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
voicemail
I have 12 voicemails. Haven't checked in a week. I hope none of them are urgent. They should text if it's urgent. I kinda wish I hadn't set up the voicemail last month. Such is life.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Awesome moments #001
I wish that I could fly
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly
Finding lyrics that aren't written by Mr. Reznor is hard. Stealing is much easier.
Standing in front of my mirror, getting ready to leave. Fresh out of the shower, hair is ok, deodorized, teeth brushed. Grab my RightGuard Manly-Good Spray™ and spray my chest. Hussy comes up behind me just as I've pulled my pants open and sprayed inside at my crotch.
Hussy: "Uh.. did you just spray your cock?"
Me: "Well yeah, I'm going to see my mom."
Hussy: "..."
Me: "I don't know why I just said that."
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly
Finding lyrics that aren't written by Mr. Reznor is hard. Stealing is much easier.
Standing in front of my mirror, getting ready to leave. Fresh out of the shower, hair is ok, deodorized, teeth brushed. Grab my RightGuard Manly-Good Spray™ and spray my chest. Hussy comes up behind me just as I've pulled my pants open and sprayed inside at my crotch.
Hussy: "Uh.. did you just spray your cock?"
Me: "Well yeah, I'm going to see my mom."
Hussy: "..."
Me: "I don't know why I just said that."
Monday, July 7, 2008
Why my friends dog is smarter than I am
Look through these blackened eyes
you'll see ten thousand lies
my lips may promise but my heart is a whore
All the cool kids are starting their posts with quotes and I'm all about that bandwagon. Sadly it in no way relates to this post at all. I fails at the internets.
Anyway, let's compare me to my friend Hussy's dog Bryson:
Bryson is a girl. A fixed girl. Nonetheless she gets immense satisfaction out of turning my stuffed dog animal on it's stomach, climbing on top, and HUMPING THE LIVING HELL OUT OF IT. She does this often. Last night, to our amazement, she began biting the back of the stuffed animals head, to get better traction, and GROWLED at it.
(above: Bryson looks similar to this, only cuter)
It would not have shocked me if she had then spontaneously developed human speech and told the bitch to take it. Her performance was so great that I had to give her treats to reward her for it.
And for the record, my girl won the stuffed animal for me on a date, so it's totally not gay at all for me to have it. Or snuggle with it late at night. Not gay at all. Just so we are all clear on that. nogay. Good.
Bob is a boy. A dumb boy who is moving out of 3rd person now: I borrowed my sister's truck, who lives an hour away, and returned it today. All is well. Except I forgot to take my housekey back when we did the switch. I've been driving on errands for 3 hours after a full day of work so.. I'm not going back.
I do what I have to: I nonchalantly set my stuff by my door, run around to the 'back' of the building where our balconies are.. hop up on my downstairs neighbors balcony railing, steady myself for a moment, then jump up and catch the bottom railing of my balcony. I was then able to reach up and pull myself up onto the wood balcony. Almost. Along the way I tore two small gashes on my inner arms by my elbows, because when I felt my grip slipping, I grabbed out to the rough stucco and surprisingly non-skin-friendly wood. Did I mention it's approximately 100 degrees while I'm doing this?
So to sum up: Bryson finds bliss easily, entertains others while doing so, and manages to be rewarded for it. I can't even remember the KEY TO THE PLACE WHERE I LIVE and end up bleeding on the floor of my balcony, trying to catch my breath and hoping none of the neighbors called the cops. To top it all off, when I do get up, I immediately go online and tell the entire world how to break in. Genius!
Bryson, I will never play chess with you. Ever. I'm quite sure you will somehow beat me so badly that you end up butt-humping me. And as I made quite clear in the text above, not gay. Really. My gay friends gave me a breeder certificate and everything, right before taking me shopping in West Hollywood.
I should probably stop babbling and go put some Neosporin on now.
you'll see ten thousand lies
my lips may promise but my heart is a whore
All the cool kids are starting their posts with quotes and I'm all about that bandwagon. Sadly it in no way relates to this post at all. I fails at the internets.
Anyway, let's compare me to my friend Hussy's dog Bryson:
Bryson is a girl. A fixed girl. Nonetheless she gets immense satisfaction out of turning my stuffed dog animal on it's stomach, climbing on top, and HUMPING THE LIVING HELL OUT OF IT. She does this often. Last night, to our amazement, she began biting the back of the stuffed animals head, to get better traction, and GROWLED at it.(above: Bryson looks similar to this, only cuter)
It would not have shocked me if she had then spontaneously developed human speech and told the bitch to take it. Her performance was so great that I had to give her treats to reward her for it.
And for the record, my girl won the stuffed animal for me on a date, so it's totally not gay at all for me to have it. Or snuggle with it late at night. Not gay at all. Just so we are all clear on that. nogay. Good.
Bob is a boy. A dumb boy who is moving out of 3rd person now: I borrowed my sister's truck, who lives an hour away, and returned it today. All is well. Except I forgot to take my housekey back when we did the switch. I've been driving on errands for 3 hours after a full day of work so.. I'm not going back.
I do what I have to: I nonchalantly set my stuff by my door, run around to the 'back' of the building where our balconies are.. hop up on my downstairs neighbors balcony railing, steady myself for a moment, then jump up and catch the bottom railing of my balcony. I was then able to reach up and pull myself up onto the wood balcony. Almost. Along the way I tore two small gashes on my inner arms by my elbows, because when I felt my grip slipping, I grabbed out to the rough stucco and surprisingly non-skin-friendly wood. Did I mention it's approximately 100 degrees while I'm doing this?
So to sum up: Bryson finds bliss easily, entertains others while doing so, and manages to be rewarded for it. I can't even remember the KEY TO THE PLACE WHERE I LIVE and end up bleeding on the floor of my balcony, trying to catch my breath and hoping none of the neighbors called the cops. To top it all off, when I do get up, I immediately go online and tell the entire world how to break in. Genius!
Bryson, I will never play chess with you. Ever. I'm quite sure you will somehow beat me so badly that you end up butt-humping me. And as I made quite clear in the text above, not gay. Really. My gay friends gave me a breeder certificate and everything, right before taking me shopping in West Hollywood.
I should probably stop babbling and go put some Neosporin on now.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
self analysis blows: aka what is wrong with me
Yes, I included both anal and blows in my title but I'm far too mature to call attention to it.
I've decided, of all my flaws, the one holding me back right now is a fundamental lack of ambition. Somewhere along the line I took one of my virtues, mellow, and allowed it to go to far. All of my goals: having kids, a house, punching Cheney in the face, writing that intense novel, becoming a world famous flamenco dancer, being that 'amazing friend' to people I care about, having a threesome with conjoined twins.. all of them require one thing: money.
I currently make enough money to support myself, have a fun little convertible, and occasionally splurge on silly games/trips/whateva. But kids? No freaking way. House? Hahaha.. maybe with the imploding housing market but seriously, no. I'll continue to be renting the condo for the foreseeable future. Why don't I have the money that the world owes me for being such a wonderful human being? Because I lack ambition. I'm too content to let things ride.
I watched a documentary last night, the %1, about the wealthiest families in america. And in every single one of the rich bastards I saw the same gleam in their eyes: HUNGER. They NEED to acquire more wealth. I don't have that. If I'm happy.. ish, and my friends are doing ok, and I can pass on something good to the world before I go, I'll be good.
But I think I need some of that hunger first. I need to get my ass back to school. I need to start fighting for the raises I've been promised. I need to stop being content.
I love kids. I want a couple. I don't understand how people who make less than I do manage but they look miserable and I don't want any until I know I can give them everything I had growing up, at the very least. I NEVER heard my parents talk/worry/fight about money and I think that was awesome. We had a modest house but we were never hungry, I was promised a college education (which I squandered) and while I wasn't wearing 'cool' expensive clothes they were at least new and fit.
So what will I do besides whine about it? I guess we'll see over the new few weeks. I got my boss to sign me up for a $1500 a year online training course, offering certification in Project Management and every IT course known to man. I got it setup a month ago and have done exactly one 2-hour course. Weak sauce, indeed.
If I have any balls at all I will begin using it. So I guess this blog is a public challenge to myself to actually DO SOMETHING. Start learning, sign up for the fall semester at a comm college to get the preq's done, work harder at the job until I get back to the 'indispensable' status I used to feel I had and then see what happens.
Cuz kids sure would rock.. someday.
I've decided, of all my flaws, the one holding me back right now is a fundamental lack of ambition. Somewhere along the line I took one of my virtues, mellow, and allowed it to go to far. All of my goals: having kids, a house, punching Cheney in the face, writing that intense novel, becoming a world famous flamenco dancer, being that 'amazing friend' to people I care about, having a threesome with conjoined twins.. all of them require one thing: money.
I currently make enough money to support myself, have a fun little convertible, and occasionally splurge on silly games/trips/whateva. But kids? No freaking way. House? Hahaha.. maybe with the imploding housing market but seriously, no. I'll continue to be renting the condo for the foreseeable future. Why don't I have the money that the world owes me for being such a wonderful human being? Because I lack ambition. I'm too content to let things ride.
I watched a documentary last night, the %1, about the wealthiest families in america. And in every single one of the rich bastards I saw the same gleam in their eyes: HUNGER. They NEED to acquire more wealth. I don't have that. If I'm happy.. ish, and my friends are doing ok, and I can pass on something good to the world before I go, I'll be good.
But I think I need some of that hunger first. I need to get my ass back to school. I need to start fighting for the raises I've been promised. I need to stop being content.
I love kids. I want a couple. I don't understand how people who make less than I do manage but they look miserable and I don't want any until I know I can give them everything I had growing up, at the very least. I NEVER heard my parents talk/worry/fight about money and I think that was awesome. We had a modest house but we were never hungry, I was promised a college education (which I squandered) and while I wasn't wearing 'cool' expensive clothes they were at least new and fit.
So what will I do besides whine about it? I guess we'll see over the new few weeks. I got my boss to sign me up for a $1500 a year online training course, offering certification in Project Management and every IT course known to man. I got it setup a month ago and have done exactly one 2-hour course. Weak sauce, indeed.
If I have any balls at all I will begin using it. So I guess this blog is a public challenge to myself to actually DO SOMETHING. Start learning, sign up for the fall semester at a comm college to get the preq's done, work harder at the job until I get back to the 'indispensable' status I used to feel I had and then see what happens.
Cuz kids sure would rock.. someday.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Weather right NOW aka 'god hates me lots and lots'
AccuWeather:
Currently At 6:42PM
Sunny
106°F
RealFeel®
107°F
Winds: CLM
at 0mph
106°F at 7pm, when it's officially EVENING. Seriously god, that's fucked up. Seriously. And what the hell is "RealFeel" and why is it trying to make me feel even worse about it? It should be "FakeFeel" and tell me how nice and cool it would be if I were in a movie theater or in a swimming pool with the Camping Divas.
Sorry, no content here, I'm too busy trying to figure out why I'm in this godforsaken heathole of suck.™
That's right, I just trademarked 'heathole of suck'. When I'm rich from it I will laugh the loudest. THE LOUDEST.
Huh, so this is what heatstroke delirium is like.
Currently At 6:42PM
Sunny
106°F
RealFeel®
107°F
Winds: CLM
at 0mph
106°F at 7pm, when it's officially EVENING. Seriously god, that's fucked up. Seriously. And what the hell is "RealFeel" and why is it trying to make me feel even worse about it? It should be "FakeFeel" and tell me how nice and cool it would be if I were in a movie theater or in a swimming pool with the Camping Divas.
Sorry, no content here, I'm too busy trying to figure out why I'm in this godforsaken heathole of suck.™
That's right, I just trademarked 'heathole of suck'. When I'm rich from it I will laugh the loudest. THE LOUDEST.
Huh, so this is what heatstroke delirium is like.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Worst blogger ever.
I've not written anything in ages. I'm still very much a neophyte to this realm but I suspect my experience is common: If a week goes by without writing anything I find each day it becomes progressively harder to post because the accumulation of non-posts makes it more intimidating to actually write something to justify the wait.
I know, I'm overthinking it, and the 3 readers I have could not care less, but that's the way my brain works.
So why haven't I been posting? Well, a few reasons. My girl has been sick the last few weeks. Not flu, meh sucks to be you sick, but 'everything hurts and the doctors are douches' sick. So I'm worried about that. Having someone you care about be in that much pain and be absolutely helpless to help (other than leg and foot massages, I'm becoming a pro) is horrid.
Then I decided to change some of my own chronic meds, only to find that due to my own lazy lack of education, one has severe withdrawal effects. Oops. Even better, when I went back to the doc about it, he professed ignorance as well. Well I guess the thousands of people and medical reports I found online were wrong. Dumbass (me and him). Oh well, he gave me some Xanax to ride out the rough spots.
Went to a Dodger game Saturday with some friends. It was 'all you can eat, you fat bastard' and we took full advantage. Unfortunately, it was 110 (seriously, I looked it up) and umbrellas were forbidden. Because the Stadium people are sadists. So I'm burned to hell and Hussy looks like Pocohontas. You best believe I wanted to take advantage of that.. unfortunately her shrieks of pain when I touch her were sufficiently different from her usual shrieks of disgust that I was unable to go through with it. Such is life.
So that is all. I've taken a few days off from work to deal with this withdrawal thingee so now I can catch up on the really interesting blogs I've bookmarked and can go back to writing book length comments on each one.
You're welcome, really.
I know, I'm overthinking it, and the 3 readers I have could not care less, but that's the way my brain works.
So why haven't I been posting? Well, a few reasons. My girl has been sick the last few weeks. Not flu, meh sucks to be you sick, but 'everything hurts and the doctors are douches' sick. So I'm worried about that. Having someone you care about be in that much pain and be absolutely helpless to help (other than leg and foot massages, I'm becoming a pro) is horrid.
Then I decided to change some of my own chronic meds, only to find that due to my own lazy lack of education, one has severe withdrawal effects. Oops. Even better, when I went back to the doc about it, he professed ignorance as well. Well I guess the thousands of people and medical reports I found online were wrong. Dumbass (me and him). Oh well, he gave me some Xanax to ride out the rough spots.
Went to a Dodger game Saturday with some friends. It was 'all you can eat, you fat bastard' and we took full advantage. Unfortunately, it was 110 (seriously, I looked it up) and umbrellas were forbidden. Because the Stadium people are sadists. So I'm burned to hell and Hussy looks like Pocohontas. You best believe I wanted to take advantage of that.. unfortunately her shrieks of pain when I touch her were sufficiently different from her usual shrieks of disgust that I was unable to go through with it. Such is life.
So that is all. I've taken a few days off from work to deal with this withdrawal thingee so now I can catch up on the really interesting blogs I've bookmarked and can go back to writing book length comments on each one.
You're welcome, really.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Dining in Peace
Went to lunch with BossGuy after our weekly "Talk about projects that may happen in the future but probably won't" meeting. We decided to head to our usual, the ever-delightful Uncle Chen's. We do this often and it's nearly always deserted.
I didn't realize how much I enjoyed this fact until we ran into a mild lunch rush.
Our first lunatic eating companion was someone 2 booths over who decided, in his loudly hungover state, that we should help him judge if his food 'looks right'. He held up a.. thing.. with red stuff on it and asked if it looked ok.
I'm accommodating.
I offer "It looks sort of like a piece of ear, you might want to check the cook and see if he's ok". My boss said it looked like pork. I thought that was needlessly rude to the cook but I'm not going to argue it.
So HangoverGuy (HG) continues moaning about his hangover and we continue ignoring him. BG and I begin eating and chatting about recent movies we've seen. 15 minutes pass. I'm telling him about In Bruges and why I will let him borrow the dvd when I get it when I hear "excuse me please!" whispered RIGHT IN BACK OF MY HEAD. I jump and turn to find myself staring into the eyes of an older European man. We were just talking about thoe kind of guys!
"Yes?"
OldGuy: "Can you please stop talking about movies, I've already heard about the movies you've both seen and what would happen if everyone talked so loudly? Nobody would be able to understand anyone! It's really inconsiderate and I'd like you to stop."
*blink*
I turn back to BG and ask, sotto voce, "Were we really talking loudly?" He shakes his head no, trying not to crack up, as I turn back to the older guy and reply "I'm sorry sir, I don't believe we were talking especially loudly." I can say this with a straight face because we haven't been drinking. The fact that this guys head is approximately 6 inches from mine may account for why he's heard so much of our chat. That he could, I don't know, MOVE a foot away in the huge empty circular booth he's occupied has apparently not occurred to him.
He disagrees about the volume. At length. I finally have to tell him to be quiet, he's now disturbing our meal with his inconsiderate talking.
Where the hell was this guy when HangoverBoy was shouting across the booths for us to check his food? Then I notice something. OldGuy is alone. So what conversation of his was I preventing? Oh dear, I was preventing him from communing with his special voices! Now I feel bad.
Then I realize, he and HangoverBoy are perfect complements! If I could only merge them into one composite being I will have created a normal diner, one who I'd be happy to share a lunchroom with. I close my eyes and concentrate for a solid minute but when I open my eyes and look around, both are still there in separate bodies. God damn you Muppet Babies, imagination is WORTHLESS.
On a plus note, BossGuy saw me trying to merge them with the powers of my mind and mistakenly concluded I had a bad headache. He told me I should work from home for the rest of the day so I would feel good enough to make his bbq tomorrow night.
Score! I take it back Baby Kermie, you rule.
I didn't realize how much I enjoyed this fact until we ran into a mild lunch rush.
Our first lunatic eating companion was someone 2 booths over who decided, in his loudly hungover state, that we should help him judge if his food 'looks right'. He held up a.. thing.. with red stuff on it and asked if it looked ok.
I'm accommodating.
I offer "It looks sort of like a piece of ear, you might want to check the cook and see if he's ok". My boss said it looked like pork. I thought that was needlessly rude to the cook but I'm not going to argue it.
So HangoverGuy (HG) continues moaning about his hangover and we continue ignoring him. BG and I begin eating and chatting about recent movies we've seen. 15 minutes pass. I'm telling him about In Bruges and why I will let him borrow the dvd when I get it when I hear "excuse me please!" whispered RIGHT IN BACK OF MY HEAD. I jump and turn to find myself staring into the eyes of an older European man. We were just talking about thoe kind of guys!
"Yes?"
OldGuy: "Can you please stop talking about movies, I've already heard about the movies you've both seen and what would happen if everyone talked so loudly? Nobody would be able to understand anyone! It's really inconsiderate and I'd like you to stop."
*blink*
I turn back to BG and ask, sotto voce, "Were we really talking loudly?" He shakes his head no, trying not to crack up, as I turn back to the older guy and reply "I'm sorry sir, I don't believe we were talking especially loudly." I can say this with a straight face because we haven't been drinking. The fact that this guys head is approximately 6 inches from mine may account for why he's heard so much of our chat. That he could, I don't know, MOVE a foot away in the huge empty circular booth he's occupied has apparently not occurred to him.
He disagrees about the volume. At length. I finally have to tell him to be quiet, he's now disturbing our meal with his inconsiderate talking.
Where the hell was this guy when HangoverBoy was shouting across the booths for us to check his food? Then I notice something. OldGuy is alone. So what conversation of his was I preventing? Oh dear, I was preventing him from communing with his special voices! Now I feel bad.
Then I realize, he and HangoverBoy are perfect complements! If I could only merge them into one composite being I will have created a normal diner, one who I'd be happy to share a lunchroom with. I close my eyes and concentrate for a solid minute but when I open my eyes and look around, both are still there in separate bodies. God damn you Muppet Babies, imagination is WORTHLESS.
On a plus note, BossGuy saw me trying to merge them with the powers of my mind and mistakenly concluded I had a bad headache. He told me I should work from home for the rest of the day so I would feel good enough to make his bbq tomorrow night.
Score! I take it back Baby Kermie, you rule.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Whose birthday is it?
So my girlfriend's birthday was yesterday. Due to the both of us having a complete inability to wait for surprises, I had already given her presents 2 weeks ago, so I went with a card and chocolates to avoid having nothing. Found her an awesome talking card that had 2 characters discussing the need to 'not startle the elderly recipient with loud b-day greetings'. I'm considerate like that. Scibbled all over the inside of the card w/ "I love ya" in 30 languages (favorite: Nob Nala in Wolof") and "Happy Birthday" in 10 or so tongues. She appeared to like it.
Then she revealed that because her party was postponed (long story) she was going to take me on a surprise date. I was not allowed to know anything, other than I would need to gas the convertible and to be ready to leave by 7pm. After some intense oral persuasion (I asked her, where is your mind? Dirty.) she revealed it would be about an hour away.
What an amazing night. First: She takes me to meet up with friend Nick for a freaking DRIVE IN DOUBLE FEATURE. Iron Man (always cool for a re-view) and Speed Racer. Now, I'll admit, I had little to no interest in Speed Racer. Never watched the cartoon much, just didn't care. GO SEE THIS MOVIE. It's amazing, funny, FUN, and just a great way to spend 2 hours.
I had the best time. We were sitting with the top down, smoking our devil cancer sticks, making out like horny teenagers, and enjoying the immensely cool drive in atmosphere when she drops surprise #2: After the second movie we are going somewhere for the second half of the surprise date.
Around 2am we pull into Puddingstone Resort. We spend an hour of private time in a beautiful cabin overlooking the city with candles and soft music. It was.. I'm running out of suitable adjectives, trust me, it was mind-blowing.
Seriously, last night felt like it was my birthday. She has substantially raised the bar.. so on my birthday I'm going to have to go all out to rock her world. I may in fact be with the coolest girl in the whole wide world and I don't even care how saccharine sweet that sounds.
Ideas and suggestions welcome.
Then she revealed that because her party was postponed (long story) she was going to take me on a surprise date. I was not allowed to know anything, other than I would need to gas the convertible and to be ready to leave by 7pm. After some intense oral persuasion (I asked her, where is your mind? Dirty.) she revealed it would be about an hour away.
What an amazing night. First: She takes me to meet up with friend Nick for a freaking DRIVE IN DOUBLE FEATURE. Iron Man (always cool for a re-view) and Speed Racer. Now, I'll admit, I had little to no interest in Speed Racer. Never watched the cartoon much, just didn't care. GO SEE THIS MOVIE. It's amazing, funny, FUN, and just a great way to spend 2 hours.
I had the best time. We were sitting with the top down, smoking our devil cancer sticks, making out like horny teenagers, and enjoying the immensely cool drive in atmosphere when she drops surprise #2: After the second movie we are going somewhere for the second half of the surprise date.
Around 2am we pull into Puddingstone Resort. We spend an hour of private time in a beautiful cabin overlooking the city with candles and soft music. It was.. I'm running out of suitable adjectives, trust me, it was mind-blowing.
Seriously, last night felt like it was my birthday. She has substantially raised the bar.. so on my birthday I'm going to have to go all out to rock her world. I may in fact be with the coolest girl in the whole wide world and I don't even care how saccharine sweet that sounds.
Ideas and suggestions welcome.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Showers and Strangeness
I do some strange things. At least I think they may be strange. I was getting ready for work (took Wednesday off, making it today so I don't burn a vacation day) and I started observing myself. I realized some things I do without thinking about it may strike others as odd.
Like my morning meditation moment. Every morning, while showering, I turn the water hotter than I like, then sit down cross-legged on the shower floor for about 5 minutes. 10 minutes if I'm expecting a rough day. I just let the hot water (has to be hotter than usual or it will get a bit chilled on the journey down to me) rain down on me as I think about nothing. At least that's the goal; it usually takes a few moments for my fears/worries/joys to bugger off and let me relax. I may squirm a bit to let the hot water reach all over me but otherwise I just sit still and let everything go. Finally, with a sigh, I rise and commence with the washing and such.
I also brush my teeth in the shower, which I'm told is odd. I like being able to use the shower as a shower-pick thing on my teeths.
When I leave the shower I am physically incapable of using 1 towel to dry off. I'm not huge either. I just can't do it. I need one towel as my pre-dry and once I'm almost dry, I grab another towel to finish it off. Which may explain why I need to keep buying more towels.
Back in college I was known for showering every time I got drunk. I would be wasted, ask the host or hostess where their bathroom was.. and minutes later they would hear the shower. I would only use it for a couple of minutes but it got me some strange looks. At least I always left it clean? Plus I really like doing dishes (another quirk, I absolutely zen out while doing dishes) so I would help the hosts clean up after parties which probably negated any qualms they had with me using their showers at odd times.
Huh.. reading this over, its less about my personal oddities and more about how much I just love showers.
So what do you do that others might consider odd? Do you love showers?
Oh and this Wednesday I am skipping work to hit Magic Mountain. Any SoCal slackers wanna come?
Like my morning meditation moment. Every morning, while showering, I turn the water hotter than I like, then sit down cross-legged on the shower floor for about 5 minutes. 10 minutes if I'm expecting a rough day. I just let the hot water (has to be hotter than usual or it will get a bit chilled on the journey down to me) rain down on me as I think about nothing. At least that's the goal; it usually takes a few moments for my fears/worries/joys to bugger off and let me relax. I may squirm a bit to let the hot water reach all over me but otherwise I just sit still and let everything go. Finally, with a sigh, I rise and commence with the washing and such.
I also brush my teeth in the shower, which I'm told is odd. I like being able to use the shower as a shower-pick thing on my teeths.
When I leave the shower I am physically incapable of using 1 towel to dry off. I'm not huge either. I just can't do it. I need one towel as my pre-dry and once I'm almost dry, I grab another towel to finish it off. Which may explain why I need to keep buying more towels.
Back in college I was known for showering every time I got drunk. I would be wasted, ask the host or hostess where their bathroom was.. and minutes later they would hear the shower. I would only use it for a couple of minutes but it got me some strange looks. At least I always left it clean? Plus I really like doing dishes (another quirk, I absolutely zen out while doing dishes) so I would help the hosts clean up after parties which probably negated any qualms they had with me using their showers at odd times.
Huh.. reading this over, its less about my personal oddities and more about how much I just love showers.
So what do you do that others might consider odd? Do you love showers?
Oh and this Wednesday I am skipping work to hit Magic Mountain. Any SoCal slackers wanna come?
Monday, May 19, 2008
Fearsome anger
I just transcribed 4 old type-written letters for someone I care for.
I tried to remain neutral about the contents, which will be explored in detail in her blog, but I am so angry right now that I can't.
Rage.
Incomprehension.
How or why would a presumably grown man feel it is somehow a good idea to write these letters about a child?
I tried to remain neutral about the contents, which will be explored in detail in her blog, but I am so angry right now that I can't.
Rage.
Incomprehension.
How or why would a presumably grown man feel it is somehow a good idea to write these letters about a child?
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Mailman, you complete me.
I got the best item ever in the mail. Words cannot describe it properly:
This is the Shock Ball. Remember "Hot Potato" where kids were forced to use their imaginations to pretend a ball was hot and toss it around? Well screw that, imagination is for the Muppet Babies
and I'm not Kermit. Though I do an awesome retarded Fozzie, ask GB.
I'm digressing, sorry. Back to SHOCK BALL OF AWE.
This is a very simple game. You put batteries in it. You try and remember if any of your friends recently had bypass surgery. If yes, do you really like them that much? While you ponder that, pull the pin and toss the ball. Possible ex-friend-to-be catches it.. and if he knows what's good for him he tosses it up again before electricity flows out of the approximate 374 metal contact points arrayed around the "Ball o' RAD" as we call it around the office.
Note, by office I mean "the voices that won't let me sleep and tell me to find Ann Heche and make her take me to the aliens/god/thetans".
After shocking myself silly, I had to look up the origin of Hot Potato. I make no promises on the veracity of this claim but here is what Wiki had to say:
"...it may go back as far as 1629 (puritan period) when Sidney Addy's Glossary of Sheffield Words describes a game in which a number of people sit in a row, or in chairs round a parlor. In this game, a lighted taper is handed to the first person, who says:
Jack's alive, and likely to live
If he dies in your hand, you've a forfeit to give.
The one in whose hand the light expires has to pay the forfeit."
Wow, passing around a candle until it goes out. History has completely misjudged the puritans.
This is the Shock Ball. Remember "Hot Potato" where kids were forced to use their imaginations to pretend a ball was hot and toss it around? Well screw that, imagination is for the Muppet Babies
and I'm not Kermit. Though I do an awesome retarded Fozzie, ask GB.
I'm digressing, sorry. Back to SHOCK BALL OF AWE.
This is a very simple game. You put batteries in it. You try and remember if any of your friends recently had bypass surgery. If yes, do you really like them that much? While you ponder that, pull the pin and toss the ball. Possible ex-friend-to-be catches it.. and if he knows what's good for him he tosses it up again before electricity flows out of the approximate 374 metal contact points arrayed around the "Ball o' RAD" as we call it around the office.
Note, by office I mean "the voices that won't let me sleep and tell me to find Ann Heche and make her take me to the aliens/god/thetans".
After shocking myself silly, I had to look up the origin of Hot Potato. I make no promises on the veracity of this claim but here is what Wiki had to say:
"...it may go back as far as 1629 (puritan period) when Sidney Addy's Glossary of Sheffield Words describes a game in which a number of people sit in a row, or in chairs round a parlor. In this game, a lighted taper is handed to the first person, who says:
Jack's alive, and likely to live
If he dies in your hand, you've a forfeit to give.
The one in whose hand the light expires has to pay the forfeit."
Wow, passing around a candle until it goes out. History has completely misjudged the puritans.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Tales from the Valley
So I bailed on work a bit early to go pick up my brand new laptop. 3 GB Ram, dual core, CHEAP AS HELL, and just better than my old Sony in every single way ever. $200 cheaper than the one I got my boss last month, more ram, and the only thing missing is the built in webcam.
Guess I'll have to do my attention whoring the old fashioned way, with impressionist charcoal drawings of my genitals.
I'm on the south side of Ventura blvd after a mistaken turn (people who've ridden with me are shocked, I'm sure) and there are lights every 25 feet. I'm stuck behind a bunch of people, who are in turn stuck because the lights are not in sequence. I'm people watching.. and I notice the car behind me stops about 10 feet behind me. Strange, but sometimes people need their space. It's a BMW, 600 series, niiiiiice but the guy driving looks douchey. An SUV pulls up alongside him and stops. Windows roll down, chat chat chat. Dammit, I think, people are so rude. Granted we aren't moving but what if it opens up? The people behind him are screwed while they figure out directions to wherever they are going together. Definitely called the douche factor on this one.
I look ahead, I've got a green but nowhere to go, too many cars in front and I'll be damned if I'll be caught in the tiny intersection. Sit I shall. Look back up in the rear view and they are rolling up their windows, groovy, they are done. The beamer moves up 2 feet closer to me and stops. The guy, a tad shorter than I imagined (but still jerky looking) gets out of his car, jogs over to the SUV, which is now pulling away and slams his fist into the rear passenger side window.
That was unexpected.
The SUV driver gets out.. and oops, he's a good 8 inches taller than DoucheyMan (DM) and wider to boot. DM gets the 'oh fuck' look on his face as the guy runs at him. DM runs around to the passenger side of his car, trying to put it between him and Big Guy (BG) and begins screaming "HELP HELP!"
Uh.. dumbass, you appear to have started this, I have no sympathy for you. If he really hurts you I might call 911 or yell at him to lay off but otherwise you have some reaping of what you've sown to do.
He gets in DM's face and yells "Instead of hitting my car, take a shot at me!" In a move straight out of any movie bar fight, BG points at his own face, drops his hands and stands there defenseless. DM looks for a second and makes his move. He takes a step back, then a big step forward.. and..
kicks BG in the side of the right shin.
I can't help it, I start laughing. BG looks down at where he was kicked in complete disbelief. DM turns and runs around to the drive side of his car, gets in, and flips a U-turn to get away. BG looks at me and I just shrug.
I turn forward and the light is green again and cars have moved exactly enough to get me into the next line of cars waiting at the next signal. I wave at BG and move on. He waves back, still looking stunned, and gets back into his SUV.
I've never wanted to buy a guy a beer and share a laugh as much as I did right then.
Not even with sign guy.
Guess I'll have to do my attention whoring the old fashioned way, with impressionist charcoal drawings of my genitals.
I'm on the south side of Ventura blvd after a mistaken turn (people who've ridden with me are shocked, I'm sure) and there are lights every 25 feet. I'm stuck behind a bunch of people, who are in turn stuck because the lights are not in sequence. I'm people watching.. and I notice the car behind me stops about 10 feet behind me. Strange, but sometimes people need their space. It's a BMW, 600 series, niiiiiice but the guy driving looks douchey. An SUV pulls up alongside him and stops. Windows roll down, chat chat chat. Dammit, I think, people are so rude. Granted we aren't moving but what if it opens up? The people behind him are screwed while they figure out directions to wherever they are going together. Definitely called the douche factor on this one.
I look ahead, I've got a green but nowhere to go, too many cars in front and I'll be damned if I'll be caught in the tiny intersection. Sit I shall. Look back up in the rear view and they are rolling up their windows, groovy, they are done. The beamer moves up 2 feet closer to me and stops. The guy, a tad shorter than I imagined (but still jerky looking) gets out of his car, jogs over to the SUV, which is now pulling away and slams his fist into the rear passenger side window.
That was unexpected.
The SUV driver gets out.. and oops, he's a good 8 inches taller than DoucheyMan (DM) and wider to boot. DM gets the 'oh fuck' look on his face as the guy runs at him. DM runs around to the passenger side of his car, trying to put it between him and Big Guy (BG) and begins screaming "HELP HELP!"
Uh.. dumbass, you appear to have started this, I have no sympathy for you. If he really hurts you I might call 911 or yell at him to lay off but otherwise you have some reaping of what you've sown to do.
He gets in DM's face and yells "Instead of hitting my car, take a shot at me!" In a move straight out of any movie bar fight, BG points at his own face, drops his hands and stands there defenseless. DM looks for a second and makes his move. He takes a step back, then a big step forward.. and..
kicks BG in the side of the right shin.
I can't help it, I start laughing. BG looks down at where he was kicked in complete disbelief. DM turns and runs around to the drive side of his car, gets in, and flips a U-turn to get away. BG looks at me and I just shrug.
I turn forward and the light is green again and cars have moved exactly enough to get me into the next line of cars waiting at the next signal. I wave at BG and move on. He waves back, still looking stunned, and gets back into his SUV.
I've never wanted to buy a guy a beer and share a laugh as much as I did right then.
Not even with sign guy.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
My WTF folder revealed.
I have a bad habit. My right click finger is twitchy. I am constantly hitting "save as" when I find something that strikes me as cute, funny, stupid, ugly, or just odd. I do this for awhile, and then I will realize that my 'wtf pics' folder is getting huge and then I usually either delete it all or .. well yeah, just delete them all.
NO MORE.
I shan't waste those priceless images.
Instead I will post them here.
And then delete them all.
So let's see what I have:
I would love that job. Fortune Cookie Writer! I can do short.
Really.
If I were him, I would wear that outfit and carry this album with me everywhere I went, just hoping someone would ask about it.
Yay the pic Norty made for me! This is where she will pretend she doesn't know me.
NO RESTRAINING ORDER WILL STOP OUR LOVE.
...
Sorry.. awkward.. moving on.
Ok this shit is not right. It's from a French comic. I TOLD you, the French are fucking wrong.
I would play this game forever. It's mathtastic.
Cute.. kinda funny. Just doesn't get me laughing hard, like.. say.. this:
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *breathe* HAHAHAHA
Ok the story here is almost better than the picture.. apparently this was a very real fear back in the day. Ok first, the proud black man (PBM) on the left slept with the blond on his right. She, being a hoochie, slept with the white guy to her right immediately after. Like.. 10 minutes after. While doing her, some of PBM's stuff gets up into the white guys little pee-pee hole. Then the white guy goes and sleeps with his faithful fiance and shoots his AND the PBMan's stuff into her.. and guess which one takes? Thats right ma'am.. you've been faithful to your man but you now have a black baby.
Maybe it will be like Different Strokes, that was kinda cool.
Moving on:
Not funny, just true.
DAMMIT! I had to look this up to know what decade could possibly have spawned it. Now Google thinks I'm a fucking racist.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH 1975, I USED TO BE PROUD TO BE BORN IN THAT YEAR.
*sigh* clicky click: The explanation isnt much better.
Ahahaha. HAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Ok 2 more and I'm done:
I have mentioned the 'brought up Mormon' thing right? Good. This was every other family there.
This must have been the best movie ever made.
In the words of the deaf lady who taught America how to love.. and say things in a really weird accent between Saturday morning cartoons:
BYE FORE NOW!
*weird hand gesture which in retrospect was her signing but to a 6 year old looked like gang signs*
NO MORE.
I shan't waste those priceless images.
Instead I will post them here.
And then delete them all.
So let's see what I have:
I would love that job. Fortune Cookie Writer! I can do short.
Really.
If I were him, I would wear that outfit and carry this album with me everywhere I went, just hoping someone would ask about it.
Yay the pic Norty made for me! This is where she will pretend she doesn't know me.
NO RESTRAINING ORDER WILL STOP OUR LOVE.
...
Sorry.. awkward.. moving on.
Ok this shit is not right. It's from a French comic. I TOLD you, the French are fucking wrong.
I would play this game forever. It's mathtastic.
Cute.. kinda funny. Just doesn't get me laughing hard, like.. say.. this:
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *breathe* HAHAHAHA
Ok the story here is almost better than the picture.. apparently this was a very real fear back in the day. Ok first, the proud black man (PBM) on the left slept with the blond on his right. She, being a hoochie, slept with the white guy to her right immediately after. Like.. 10 minutes after. While doing her, some of PBM's stuff gets up into the white guys little pee-pee hole. Then the white guy goes and sleeps with his faithful fiance and shoots his AND the PBMan's stuff into her.. and guess which one takes? Thats right ma'am.. you've been faithful to your man but you now have a black baby.
Maybe it will be like Different Strokes, that was kinda cool.
Moving on:
Not funny, just true.
DAMMIT! I had to look this up to know what decade could possibly have spawned it. Now Google thinks I'm a fucking racist.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH 1975, I USED TO BE PROUD TO BE BORN IN THAT YEAR.
*sigh* clicky click: The explanation isnt much better.
Ahahaha. HAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Ok 2 more and I'm done:
I have mentioned the 'brought up Mormon' thing right? Good. This was every other family there.
This must have been the best movie ever made.
In the words of the deaf lady who taught America how to love.. and say things in a really weird accent between Saturday morning cartoons:
BYE FORE NOW!
*weird hand gesture which in retrospect was her signing but to a 6 year old looked like gang signs*
Love letter to the man on the corner
*another post from a few months ago*
I'm sure you have seen them. They stand on the corners of busy intersections with large signs. And that's ALL THEY DO. Their job is to be a living billboard and they are presumably paid hourly to do this.
To be honest they've always depressed me. Imagine a job where you could be instantly replaced by a wooden 2 x 4, if only the boss could get permission to plant it there. And they are usually advertising things that a sign is just not a good medium for. Like this guy, who I will describe momentarily. His sign said "condos for sale". Now, if you are in the market for condos, are you really going to be driving around looking for sales? I may be wrong, never having bought a condo, but I would imagine it involves a lot more research than that.
I always wonder what that's like, having that job. I may hate my own job sometimes but I'll never be replaced by a stick. Well maybe by a high tech Japanese stick, those are pretty sweet. But not by an American stick, no way.
So that brings me to Jim. I call him that because he kinda looks like a younger version of Jim from The Office. He was LOVING his job. He had a 4 foot arrow, about 2 feet wide, and board thin. The first time I passed him, he was spinning it on his finger like a pro, then swooping it over his back, still spinning, and re-catching it, like a circus performer on acid. Then tossing it up and spinning it over his head before sliding it across his stomach. The entire time he's doing this he is also individually waving to each car turning right by him.. and everyone was grinning and waving back at him. Just watching him I felt happy.
The second time I passed him, 45 minutes later, he was even more into it. He was jumping while spinning it, then trying more complicated tricks. I saw him drop it once and he pantomimed "don't tell anyone!" at me and went back to his acrobatics. The guy in front of me was laughing and pointing and for once I wasn't pissed off that people were ignoring the right turn green arrow. How many people did this kid cheer up just by enjoying himself?
Jim, you put on an awesome show and I hope lots of people decided to buy condos because of you. If I could have tipped you I would have and if I ever run into you, drinks are on me, mein friend.
I'm sure you have seen them. They stand on the corners of busy intersections with large signs. And that's ALL THEY DO. Their job is to be a living billboard and they are presumably paid hourly to do this.
To be honest they've always depressed me. Imagine a job where you could be instantly replaced by a wooden 2 x 4, if only the boss could get permission to plant it there. And they are usually advertising things that a sign is just not a good medium for. Like this guy, who I will describe momentarily. His sign said "condos for sale". Now, if you are in the market for condos, are you really going to be driving around looking for sales? I may be wrong, never having bought a condo, but I would imagine it involves a lot more research than that.
I always wonder what that's like, having that job. I may hate my own job sometimes but I'll never be replaced by a stick. Well maybe by a high tech Japanese stick, those are pretty sweet. But not by an American stick, no way.
So that brings me to Jim. I call him that because he kinda looks like a younger version of Jim from The Office. He was LOVING his job. He had a 4 foot arrow, about 2 feet wide, and board thin. The first time I passed him, he was spinning it on his finger like a pro, then swooping it over his back, still spinning, and re-catching it, like a circus performer on acid. Then tossing it up and spinning it over his head before sliding it across his stomach. The entire time he's doing this he is also individually waving to each car turning right by him.. and everyone was grinning and waving back at him. Just watching him I felt happy.
The second time I passed him, 45 minutes later, he was even more into it. He was jumping while spinning it, then trying more complicated tricks. I saw him drop it once and he pantomimed "don't tell anyone!" at me and went back to his acrobatics. The guy in front of me was laughing and pointing and for once I wasn't pissed off that people were ignoring the right turn green arrow. How many people did this kid cheer up just by enjoying himself?
Jim, you put on an awesome show and I hope lots of people decided to buy condos because of you. If I could have tipped you I would have and if I ever run into you, drinks are on me, mein friend.
Random times with my ex roomie.
*truth in advertising: this blog was written on Christmas Eve, 2007 somewhere else. But I like here better.
--------
After an appropriate minute of silence for her former love I grabbed a hefty bag and then went off. Filled it with interesting looking books and was happy as a.. guy.. who's happy. Sorry, my metaphor machine is broken. Or are those similes? I can never keep those straight. Anyway, the garbage bag o' books is now waiting to be sorted and added to my shelves. Happy day for me.
Had an interesting night last night. I was kinda bummed about life in general, my current direction or lack thereof, the fact that I may be looking for a new roomie soon, and just.. everything I guess. I hate actually talking about things that bother me, because I have a Y chromosome, but Nicole knew I wasn't feeling too joyous so she suggested shots and hot tub. 2 shots of Jaeger later we were laughing and joking in the boiling water and suddenly life wasn't as bleak. Had another shot afterward and was pretty pleasantly buzzed as the hot tub and alcohol combined to put me in fuzzy land. If anyone got strange emails after that, oops. Yes, I'm looking at you Kerri.
I said probably the wrongest thing in a few weeks today, so I should repeat it. Nicole had a deaf jerk on the phone, on a relay call. He was seriously being an ass, cursing her out through the operator. (FYI: relay calls are where the deaf person types it out and the operator must read the transcription EXACTLY). So she has an operator telling her "you are fucking insane if you think I'm paying fucking $300 for a 1-way ticket, you bitch!".
So I suggested, being a good supervisor, that she tell him "You know, if you were a better person, God would probably let you hear stuff".
Gasps from the surrounding peanut gallery. I swear 2 of them moved their chairs back in case lightning struck.
Thing is, I worked with deaf people extensively in school. I learned a very important thing: They are people. They don't need to be coddled, they just need to be treated like everyone else, except maybe LOUDER AND SLOWER.
Ok that last part was just rude. And doesn't quite make sense if you think about it.
I won't.
But you know what I mean. If the guy wasn't deaf, would I have made that joke? No, I would have found something else to mock him for, because he was being an asshole to my friend.
Anyway, such was my Christmas Eve. Handicapable joking aside, hope all of you have a good one, say I love you to your families whether you feel it at the moment or not, because shutup and do it.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Dentality
A crown on my far bottom left molar fell off Monday. I was at Tony Romas for lunch (mmmm cow) when my mouth gave birth to this little ceramic gift. Luckily I had a root canal on that tooth 5 years ago, so no nerves to shriek with agony but it was annoying as fuck and my tongue kept getting micro cuts from the sharp tooth shard back there. Off to the dentist I go. It's approximately 3 feet away from my office, we're across from each other.
First thing I notice is.. my dentist appears to be 25. And hot. Wearing a dentist outfit with new white Nike's. That works for me, I'm ok with this. She drops my bib twice while trying to put it on me. Finally she says "I'm just not very good at this". Not the most reassuring thing that could be said at this time, but I don't care, she's hot.
She has her assistant do xrays, and blah blah blah, no cavities, yay, but I'm going to need something called a Post and a new crown. Apparently Post's are made out of SOLID FUCKING GOLD because they quoted me $1600 for all the work/cleaning/followups/etc. They have worked on several of my coworkers and know that our ghetto insurance doesn't cover dental. So they give me a choice of 10 payment plans. Not too bad, I go with the 12 month no interest one and set the appt for Wednesday night.
Did I mention she was hot? Good.
Wednesday, drilling out the old root canal cap thing.. and problem. Seems to be bleeding where it shouldn't be. Seems the guy who did my root canal pushed too far down, broke through the bottom base of my tooth and left a small area under need the tooth (between the 2 roots) where bad stuff could happen. It never did before because the crown was there capping it.. but in the last 3 days since it fell off an infection has managed to settle in. Son of a bitch. She took new xrays so I could see the difference and I could see the growth from Monday. Fucking speedy opportunistic bacteria. Still, gotta admire their get-up-and-go spirit! Go bacteria! That's why bacteria are the dominant life form on the planet. We are just a fad.
So Post/New Crown is no longer an option. I swear the Dentist looked like she was going to cry and kept apologizing, though I coudn't see how it was her fault. Extraction it is.
Bonus: Extraction is like $200 instead of $1400, so yay for tooflessness. It's the last molar so a fakey can't be put in because there's nothing to attach it to. She asks if I want a specialist to look and see if it can be saved but honestly.. this thing has been bugging the shit out of me, and it looked pretty ugly anyway even with the porcelain crown, so yeah take it. If I ever get rich I can get an implant. So now I'm going to use the $ I had budgeted for the crown and get my teeth whitened and pretty like I was one of those cool non-smoking brushing 3x a day kids. My coworker ACE got it done and it looks really good. Don't tell him I said that, he'll get conceited. All in all, it should be 1/2 as much as I was originally budgeting so I'm not too upset.
So this blog is devoid of jokes and links. I'm on prescription pain meds to keep my jaw from throbbing, and antibiotics to keep things clean. I told the pretty dentist I wouldn't smoke but that was a lie. I just put my wet gauze pack onto the wound when I smoke to avoid dry-socket. Because.. I'm not going to stop smoking. That's just silly.
Oh! Last thing: I learned a lesson over the weekend. Don't leave your bitTorrent program up and running if you ever have to connect to a work network. Freaks the sys admins out to see a box connecting to 100's of seemingly random ip's constantly. I had to run 3 virus scans to prove I wasn't compromised and I have a feeling they still don't believe that I was just trying to download season 3 of Lost. Just in case I updated my PeerGuardian2 and I recommend anyone who uses torrents to p2p to grab it. Free, takes few resources, runs in the background, blah. Plus, duh, shut BitLord down before connecting to the VPN. Hee.
Ok I've rambled for longer than pain med will account for. I'm gonna Wii it up like a huge dork for awhile. Wii Sports is the greatest invention of ever and I need to practice. Kerri kicked my ass last Sunday at Wii Boxing and I need to get back in shape so I can take her down. In the game sickos. She has a restraining order so I can't do that for real. Bitch.
*poof*
Ps: roomie outta town til Friday night, time for some NAKED DISCO DANCING. If my cat kills herself, you know why.
First thing I notice is.. my dentist appears to be 25. And hot. Wearing a dentist outfit with new white Nike's. That works for me, I'm ok with this. She drops my bib twice while trying to put it on me. Finally she says "I'm just not very good at this". Not the most reassuring thing that could be said at this time, but I don't care, she's hot.
She has her assistant do xrays, and blah blah blah, no cavities, yay, but I'm going to need something called a Post and a new crown. Apparently Post's are made out of SOLID FUCKING GOLD because they quoted me $1600 for all the work/cleaning/followups/etc. They have worked on several of my coworkers and know that our ghetto insurance doesn't cover dental. So they give me a choice of 10 payment plans. Not too bad, I go with the 12 month no interest one and set the appt for Wednesday night.
Did I mention she was hot? Good.
Wednesday, drilling out the old root canal cap thing.. and problem. Seems to be bleeding where it shouldn't be. Seems the guy who did my root canal pushed too far down, broke through the bottom base of my tooth and left a small area under need the tooth (between the 2 roots) where bad stuff could happen. It never did before because the crown was there capping it.. but in the last 3 days since it fell off an infection has managed to settle in. Son of a bitch. She took new xrays so I could see the difference and I could see the growth from Monday. Fucking speedy opportunistic bacteria. Still, gotta admire their get-up-and-go spirit! Go bacteria! That's why bacteria are the dominant life form on the planet. We are just a fad.
So Post/New Crown is no longer an option. I swear the Dentist looked like she was going to cry and kept apologizing, though I coudn't see how it was her fault. Extraction it is.
Bonus: Extraction is like $200 instead of $1400, so yay for tooflessness. It's the last molar so a fakey can't be put in because there's nothing to attach it to. She asks if I want a specialist to look and see if it can be saved but honestly.. this thing has been bugging the shit out of me, and it looked pretty ugly anyway even with the porcelain crown, so yeah take it. If I ever get rich I can get an implant. So now I'm going to use the $ I had budgeted for the crown and get my teeth whitened and pretty like I was one of those cool non-smoking brushing 3x a day kids. My coworker ACE got it done and it looks really good. Don't tell him I said that, he'll get conceited. All in all, it should be 1/2 as much as I was originally budgeting so I'm not too upset.
So this blog is devoid of jokes and links. I'm on prescription pain meds to keep my jaw from throbbing, and antibiotics to keep things clean. I told the pretty dentist I wouldn't smoke but that was a lie. I just put my wet gauze pack onto the wound when I smoke to avoid dry-socket. Because.. I'm not going to stop smoking. That's just silly.
Oh! Last thing: I learned a lesson over the weekend. Don't leave your bitTorrent program up and running if you ever have to connect to a work network. Freaks the sys admins out to see a box connecting to 100's of seemingly random ip's constantly. I had to run 3 virus scans to prove I wasn't compromised and I have a feeling they still don't believe that I was just trying to download season 3 of Lost. Just in case I updated my PeerGuardian2 and I recommend anyone who uses torrents to p2p to grab it. Free, takes few resources, runs in the background, blah. Plus, duh, shut BitLord down before connecting to the VPN. Hee.
Ok I've rambled for longer than pain med will account for. I'm gonna Wii it up like a huge dork for awhile. Wii Sports is the greatest invention of ever and I need to practice. Kerri kicked my ass last Sunday at Wii Boxing and I need to get back in shape so I can take her down. In the game sickos. She has a restraining order so I can't do that for real. Bitch.
*poof*
Ps: roomie outta town til Friday night, time for some NAKED DISCO DANCING. If my cat kills herself, you know why.
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