Sweet!!!

I've come to the conclusion that my grandma makes the best fucking fudge in the world. That's what I got from her for Christmas. Chocolate fudge, and what she calls Heavenly Hash. The hash is great too, but the fudge.....mmmmm.

Work is progressing well. I'm getting used to the 'weight lifting' aspect of it, and I got off on time 2 days in a row now. I feel special.

I've also been horny as hell lately. I need someone to call me up and talk dirty to me. Or at least send me some erotic email.

Any takers?

Later,

T.

Here we go again

It's Sunday morning, early, and I'm sitting here dripping wet. Yes, I'm naked.

You perverts.

I'm drinking coffee, and trying to psyche myself up for work. I'd forgotten how physical it is. I now no longer have to walk 40 mins to work, but I'm even more tired when I get home.

Oh well, I'm sure I'll get used to it. I'm scheduled to work until 4, but I hardly ever get off at 4. I'm getting overtime, and that's ok too.

Damn....Looks like that's all the time we have today....ttyl

T.

I hope you all had a good Christmas

Lessee....I had a day off, worked 5, was scheduled off 2....got called in both days. As much as told my boss, this ain't cool. He worked the next day for me, and told me to take the day off, so that's cool.

I'm watching It's a Wonderful Life right now, and barring any unforseen disasters, it may be the first thing that's gone right for me all day.

I don't have the heart to go into it right now, but perhaps in a few days I'll be able to talk about it.

Oh, yeah. If anyone cares, I'm having a birthday soon.

Ok, ok. Quit pestering.

January 12th, and since you'll ask, and as I have no shame, I'll be 39.

Sorry to bitch on Christ's birthday, and sorry for being selfish (the root of my bitchiness).

Queso muy bueno,

T.

I couldn't come up with a good title, so you get this lame one

My very own time machine

How do you travel back in time 14 years? It's simple, just listen to the music you did in High School (105.7 KOZZ, Reno's Classic Rock), and get the job you had in college.

Yes, I'm working. That's one reason I've been lax in my posting. The other reasons are varied, and include laziness, computer hassles, and just life.

Sorry I've been absent so long, but I'll try to do better.

Ok, some highlights from the past month:

• I got a job. I'm working at Round Table Pizza as a dough roller. Not a bad job, but much more physical than my last job, and only about 2/3 of the pay.



• My sister is pregnant. From what I gather, it was planned, so yay her.



• I'm still walking, but Round Table's basiclly across the street from me, so it's not so bad anymore.



• I missed the chance to visit another blogger that was in Reno recently (sorry for my lameness Goddess).



• I managed to catch myself a nasty head/chest cold, and it's killing me, I think.

I'll post more in the coming days, and thanks again for reading my drivel. It means a lot to me that I'm still getting hits, even when I lame out and don't post.

Have a great day all y'all.

T.

So, I once again set out to put pen to paper, and tell you of my exploits

It's been nice, I have to tell you.

I mean, I know I got laid off, and I know that I need to get a job, and quickly, too. But 4 days of nothing has been sweet. Well, not technically nothing, I suppose. I've been playing the shit out of FFX, and I saved enough money to buy The Simpson's: Hit & Run.

It's pretty fun. Think GTA: The Simpsons. Lots of voice samples, all original actors. That alone makes the game worth the $19.82 +tax I paid for it.

Ok. There's way too much Disneyland stuff for a single post, so I'm going to break it down day by day.

Sunday:

We left Carson City at about 7:30 a.m., headed southwest through the Carson Valley. Highway 89 is rather picturesque, and it was even more lovely blanketed in the 5 or 6 feet of snow that lined the road. I must sadly report, that due to battery/film issues, I have no pictures from this leg of the journey.

We stopped a couple times, but for the most part, it was a straight-through. We got to Pismo Beach around 3 or so I think, and walked out to the end of the pier. Then, we got one of those rare pleasures. We saw a pod of 5-8 dolphins go swimming by. It was so cool.

Dinner with the ex and family was cool. We went to Alex's, a good bbq house in Shell Beach, just North of Pismo. Good eats, good times. We went home, and then there was a late-night run to Wally world. I got film, batteries, and an sd card for the dig I borrowed.

Heh. I was trashed. Crashed, and up early the next day. Daylight savings time was fucking with me hardcore. I'd woken up at 4 on Sunday, and I woke up at 3:30 Monday. My son was crashed on the living room floor, and we watched some ATHF. The troops got up, coffee, doughnuts, you know, all that morning shit. We hit the road around 8 or so, and got to Dland at about 11.

We hit the hotel, dropped our bags off, and headed to the park. Pirates first, followed by Splash Mountain. Big Thunder was next, and then we headed to Lunch. We ate at The Rainforest Cafe.

Pretty good food, and not too expensive. I ran the leftovers back to the hotel, and met the crew back in the park. A couple more rides, and my mom called to say that she and Summer (my daughter) were at the hotel. We headed back, took a mid-afternoon break, and headed to California Adventure.

They have a ride there called Grizzly Peak. It's one of those white-water-innertube-rafting affairs. We've ridden it countless times in the last 4 years. We decide to make that the first 'we're all together' ride. Near the end of the ride, there's a 'geyser' in the middle of the stream. I was sure at that point that the geyser was timed to never hit the raft. We'd never been hit, and I'd spent a fair amount of time just watching, seeing if anyone got hit, and never saw anyone.

Two words. It's not. The geyser was boiling up, maybe 4-5 feet over the surface of the water. All of a sudden, as we're nearing it, it shoots maybe 18-20 feet up, filling our tube with water. We go over it, and I can feel it hitting the bottom of the boat. We pull off it, and it shoots even higher, again, filling our boat. From fairly dry to absolutely fucking soaked in about 3 seconds. I was in shock. Not just from the ice cold water, but from the fact that the geyser had hit us.

Needless to say, that set the tone for the rest of the trip. Not twice, but 3 more times we'd be subjected to the geyser. We (the kids and I) got hit 2 times in a row. It was insane.

Then it was time for California Screamin', the kick ass coaster. We rode that twice, and then went to Soarin' over California. It's one of those bigscreen motion picture things. The hook is, you sit on a bank of seats that gets raised about 20 feet ( the high bank) off the floor, and hung over a curved screen. It starts in a cloud bank, and then you break out, soaring over the North tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I won't spoil it by going into too much detail, but it's a blast.

Next on the list was The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. This ride is sick!! Again, I'm not going to spoil it, but I say this : Fucking Ride It!!!

After doing that twice, CA was closing, so we headed back to Dland, and did the Haunted Mansion. They redo it in Nightmare Before Christmas motif for the holidays. It was cool, but they've speeded up the cars, so the ride's not as long. We then did Mr Toad's Wild Ride (one of my faves), and the Teacups. I'm sad to report that they've nerfed the cups. I could barely get mine spinning, and I'm the king. After that, it was Indiana Jones followed by the Jungle Cruise.

I highly recommend doing the Jungle Cruise after dark. It's much better. We did Splash, and then Big Thunder again, and that was pretty much it for the first day.

Tune in tomorrow for more.


Later,

T.

Perfunctory, but necessary...

It's Sunday evening, it's almost 6, and I've been home for a scant 2 hours.

I'm beat, bushed, and just generally run down, my neck needs to be popped, and my lower back's hovering near the point of no return, but I just had to pop in.

I had such a good time.

Just a few quick notes:

Turkey legs, The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, and the Aladdin show.

I'll be in tomorrow to make good with a story, and prolly a few of the photo requests (still have the dig i borrowed).

Dia de las carnitas,

T.

All that was missing was Linda Ronstadt

I said I would guest blog, so I suppose I will. First off, I should introduce myself. I'm Sandra, I live in Los Angeles, people around here know me as Suse.

So, T and I met up last night in Anaheim. I'm sure he'll be able to fill you in on the details, but we had a really fun time. We ended up seeing the Neville Brothers at the House of Blues -- for free. I also got really, really drunk...but that's another story.

If you ever meet T, ask him to do his Scottish accent -- actually, he'll probably do it without having to be asked.

All in all, a fun evening.

I'm so excited....

I can barley contain myself.

It's 5:40 am local, and this could very well be my last blog for a solid week.

Suse has expressed an intrest in guest blogging, so I'm going to let her.

We're spending tonight at my son's house on the Central Coast of California, and will arrive in the happiest place on Earth bright and early Monday morning.

I know that you will all miss me desperatly, and that you're all so jealous that you can hardly see straight.

---

I may keep a paper journal to use as blogs when I get back. I'm still undecided on that though. There's so little time when we're down there.

We do get fireworks this year. That's cool.

Ok, time to gather up the last of the stuff, and hit the road.

You all be good, and if you can't be good, be careful.

Gato el muerte,

T.

I suck...I know I suck.

I could make excuses, I guess, but what's the point? The only thing you really need to know, is I leave for vacation on Sunday, and all I have to do from now until then is laundry.

Oh, and packing. I definately have to pack.

I asked before, and noone jumped, but I'm recruiting some guest bloggers, in case I can't find a place to get online near the hotel/Downtown Disney.

If anyone is interested, email me here.

I also have 6 gmail invites, if anyone wants one.

I've borrowed a digi for the trip. It's only 2 meg, and I need to buy a card, but look for some pics soon.

Both requests, and Dland, of course.

Carnitas el gato,

T.

And now, something I swore I'd never do.....

The lyrics of a song. The whole song. I realized that some of my blogs are as long, if not longer than the space that lyrics would take up.

So, here it is for you. It's a Rush song, and it's on the album 'Test for Echo.'



Half the World


Half the world hates
What half the world does everyday
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway

Half the world lives
Half the makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes

Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does

Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away

Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns

Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half

Half of us divided
Like a torn-up photograph, a torn-up photograph
Half of us are trying
To reach the other half, to reach the other half

Half the world dares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away

Half the world lives
Half the makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes

Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half

To be the other half


On tap for today, more wood cutting, and a perusal of the want ads.

God, I fucking hate looking for a job. It's ass.

Gato el muerte,

T.

My roommate Andy was a paranoid schizophrenic.

That's not just me using my High School Psych class to diagnose either.

Well, in all honesty, it is. I have to say though, I was right. Let me set this up for you a bit.

The Central Coast. For those of you not in the know, that's California. Think San Luis Obisbo. I was living in the roaring metropolis of Arroyo Grande, about 15 miles south of SLO.

That's what they call it, you know. SLO-Town. They're proud of being slow.

But, I digress.

The house I was living in can best be described as a 'rooming house.' The people that owned it lived there, but in a separate 'wing' of the house.* There were 5, maybe 6 rooms that they rented out, and I had one of them.

A couple of the guys, Pat, and Mike were pretty cool. Andy, however, was a genuine piece of work. Quiet guy, kind of a clean freak. Viet Nam Vet. But a nice guy a 'good fella', if you will. When first I met him, he seemed mostly normal. Slowly, tho, things began to change.

There are many things I could relate, many stories I could delve up, but none of them could sum it up like the following incident, and I swear it's true. I was woken out of a dead sleep one night, by Andy yelling. I'm not sure what he was saying before I woke up, but I remember what I heard after.

It still makes me shake my head. It's like 2, 3 in the morning, and I hear him scream at the top of his lungs "I need to come in for an EMERGENCY stool sample."

I shit you not (pun intended). You see, he was convinced that 'They' had come into his room and "put something up his ass."

I can only hope that whomever he was shouting at:

1. Was already up at that hour, and


2. Was prepared to deal with people talking about any stool sample, let alone an emergency one

Shortly after that, Andy moved out. Can you imagine why? I found out then that he was, in fact a paranoid schizophrenic, and also suffered from PTSD. Apparantly, if he stays on his meds, he's fine. I kinda liked him, and never really had any problems with him.

Anyhow, not sure why you'd want to know that, or that you care at all. Guess I'm out.

Gato el muerte,

T.

p.s. the above use of 'quotation marks' is to denote sarcasm, and I apologize for it's overuse, but I kinda like it. t.

Well, I've always been a joiner, so why not....

In the great tradition of Kat and my good friend L, I think I'll go ahead and get laid off from work.

What the hell. I think I'll make the 28th of October my last day, since that's the day that the offical 'letter of laying off' marks as the day from which my services will no longer be needed.

Great news to get a scant 9 days before vacation, no?

"Hey, have a great trip, oh, and by the way, you no longer have a job here!!"

Anyone wanna do the day math and figure out what day that is?

Yeah, a fucking Thursday. No wonder they were being so nice to me. They were holding out, trying to build up for a good juggular strike.

Pissed.

Don't be surprised if there's no post later.

T.

What's your point.

Ok, so my lengthy Wednesday afternoon post has turned into a lengthy Thursday morning post.

My back started acting up yesterday, so I spent my afternoon/evening sprawled on the floor with my legs up on the couch trying to ease it up.

It's 5:40 as I write this (yes, i'm naked...perverts) and I just got out of the shower. I've got my coffee in hand....well, on my desk anyhow, and I'm ready to talk.

---

As you know, Tuesday was my mom's birthday, and we elected to take her out to Casino Fandango for dinner. Imagine our surprise when we got there to find out that there is no buffet on Monday or Tuesday.

Arrrrrgh. So, we decided to go to the Nugget instead. The food's not nearly as good, and the selection pales in comparison, but it was only $8.50 per person, and I still ate way too much.

---

Have any of you seen 'Mean Girls'? I know that I'm a guy, and I shouldn't be watching blatantly chick flicks like this, but I'm a movie freak too, and I watch just about anything.

There are some notable exceptions. I don't watch movies with "pro" wrestlers in them, nor do I watch movies with pro basketball figures in them. There are prolly a couple of other guidelines, but I can't be bothered to think of them atm. I'm on a deadline here.

Anyhoo....back to 'Mean Girls.' All I have to say is "Watch it!!" I had to pause the movie several times, as I was laughing so hard, I didn't want to miss any of it. There are some sappy 'revelation' moments, of course, but that's to be expected. I LOVE this movie. I'll be buying a copy, I'm sure.

---

It has now been raining pretty steadily since about 9 Sunday morning. It hasn't snowed down here yet, but the hills are covered. I'm so disgusted. It's like winter got here all in a day. It's getting colder, too. Between 28 and 34 degrees by the thermometer in the park that I pass everyday on my way to work.

---

And now, in other news:

I'm culling together the questions, and will be answering them soon. Perhaps this afternoon, perhaps Saturday. If there's anything you want to know, now's your chance to ask. The pics, as I mentioned will be a little slower, as I have to get the film developed (read: money) and then scan them.

There are only 10 shopping days until I leave for Dland. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the blog while I'm gone. I don't seem to remember there being a place to get online in Downtown Disney, but if there is, I'll update from there.

I'm also considering the 'guest blogger' thing to cover my absence. If any of you are interested, drop me an email, and let me know.

Well, I can tell from the clock on the wall that my time with you is over for now. I wish all of you the best this day, and in the future.

Pantalones del gato,

T.

The mean fifteen.

I'm on my first break at work, and hijacking one of the puters in the library again.

Like for a lengthy post later. The topics to be covered will include:

• The buffet fiasco.


• Mean Girls


• The fucking weather

And who knows what else. Just depends on how the rest of the day goes.

Siesta con huevos,

T.

Today is my Mom's birthday

We're taking her to Casino Fandango. You may remember that the last time I was there, I gorged myself into near insensibility.

I plan to do the same tonight, of course.

I'm also taking a day off, as I'm having a problem with my eyes.

I just can't see myself going in today.

I'm in the middle of switching rooms with Pop, so my puter's kinda ghetto setup atm, and I hooked it up solely so I could talk to you, my gentle readers. I may finish getting everyting set up today, I may not.

I'm culling together all your excellent pic requests/questions, but you have to be patient. I'm not like the rest of you cool people. I'm going to have to take the pics with my 35 mm camera, and then scan them. Unless I miraculously come into some petty cash, or one of you has a old digi that you are getting ready to throw away (yeah, right).

Ok, guess that's it for now.

Pantolones del gato,

T.

p.s. i almost forgot to mention, it's also tammy's bd. wierd, huh?

Running late

So you don't get much this time.

I'm not sure if I'll get a ride home at lunch....I never know until I get to work, but if I don't, I'll blog from work.

Kerry Collins should be beaten. Severely. He only threw 1 int yesterday, but he still sucked. Raiders now 2-3. Gonna be a long year.

Bye for now.

T.

So, I have to know...

How is it that if I don't post for a couple days, I get butloads of comments, but if I actually ask you to respond, like the pic/question request, I get like 3 relating to my request.

Are you people trying to drive me nuts? I mean, if you are, it's all good and all, but just let me know, so I can slip into the madness and appreciate it.

I mean, I'm as willing as the next man to go full goose bozo, but I'd like it to be my choice, and not something that comes upon me unawares.

There was no drunken post last night, as I didn't even get one beer at the casino.

Talk about lousy luck. I don't even want to talk about today.

I'll get back with you tomorrow.

Pantolnes del gato,

T.

Random thoughts for a Friday

As you may be able to tell, J is carless today. Thus, tho I will suffer by not eating, you all get some new crap to read.

---

That which we call a rose...

Much like ASB I'm a freak for music. While working, I almost always have my headphones on. In an attempt to seem semi-social, and as one of my secondary jobs is to answer the phone if noone else can, I usually keep the volume at a low to moderate level.

There are some songs, however, that require volume. Notable titles include 'Welcome to the Jungle' by Guns and Roses, 'Simply Irresistible' by Robert Palmer, and side one of '2112' by Rush. There are more, plenty more, and I'm sure you all have your faves.

The problem I run into is this. Almost without fail, when one of these comes on, either by design, or just in the randomness of the day, and I roll the little wheel to ear-bleed setting, someone decides to come talk to me.

Sometimes it's my boss, sometimes another employee. It doesn't matter. I have to turn down the volume, pause the song, and deal with....something. I will then restart the song, and re-crank the volume...and usu get interrupted again.

Geez, people. I've been sitting here all fucking morning, and you wait until I'm right in the middle of a good tune to come bug me.

---

A picture is worth a thousand words...

The photo requests are coming in, and that's a good thing. A couple of you have doubled up on requests tho.

Kat: Naked already asked for my hands, so you get another one if you want.

Suse: Naked also asked for my hair, so you can pick another, too.

Also, she's the only one that asked questions. If none of you have any to ask me, that's fine too, but you may not get another chance....(grin)

---

Lord, what fools these mortals be

It's Friday, of course, and I'll be out drinking and gambling. I've had pretty atrocious luck lately though, so I'm not expecting much. You can never tell when you're luck's going to change tho, so we'll see.

I have to do wood this weekend. I'm also in the process of swapping rooms with Pops. I have way too much stuff for the small room now. Soon, I'll have a kicky new computer desk set up. If I can ever find the fucking time to get anything done, that is.

---

To sleep, perchance to dream

I don't know. I've had Shakespeare quotes bouncing through my brain all week. I'm getting ready to sign off, as I'm at the library, and there are people waiting for 'puters. Damn, but I'm a nice guy.

Fucking makes me sick.

Look for drunkeness later.

Pantalones del gato,

T.

They say time heals all wounds...

I say that's a load of horse shit.

I don't know what got me started thinking about it, but I'm going to bore you with a tale of my reckless youth. It's going to be long, I warn you now. I'm going to ramble as well. If you don't feel up for the long haul, you may want to come back when you're a bit stronger. I call this:

My First Girlfriend.

I was 15 the first year I went deer hunting with my Dad. It was cool on many levels. I started to swear in front of my Dad. I started to drink in front of him too. Just beer, mind. And only at night, after the day's hunting had been done.

I can't tell you what it did for my Pops and I. Lots of stuff happened. It brings a smile to my mouth, even now, as I think about it. The upshot of it was, my Pops and I bonded in a way that we had sorely needed. My relationship with him has gotten better ever since.

Now, you may not understand what that has to do with my 'first girlfriend', but I'm getting to that.

Imagine it if you will:

My Pops and I have come down off the mountain. After a week, I've managed to get a shower. We have a dead deer at our house, and we need to get it across town.

Oh, yeah. The trick was, we had no vehicle capable of transporting a deer carcass. No worries. We're going to borrow (and this kills me) Gerry Lewis's Bronco to move the meat. He has a small favor to ask in return, though.

Now, that in itself seems a resonable request for the loan of a vehicle, and under most circumstances, I'd have to agree.

But then, you don't know about Kelli.

See, we had do drop Gerry of at his g/f's house. Her name was Sue, and I knew her from the grocery store where my Pop worked. We get there, we go in. Sue offers me a beer. Flushed with my newfound freedom, I gladly accept. Across the room, sits Kelli, Sue's daughter. She's shorter than me, red hair. Cute as hell. Obviously not expecting company, as she's loafing around the house in sweats.

I try not to stare. Remember, I'm sweet-almost-sixteen-and-(honestly)-never-been-kissed. I told you a long time ago I was a late bloomer. Sue introduced us, of course, and I did my best to seem cool about drinking around my Dad. Couple days later my Pops and I are driving down Silver Sage Lane, and he says to me that Kelli was 'very impressed' with me.

Knowing what was going to happen, eyes wide the fuck open I say 'Really? Wow, that's the first time anyone I ever thought was cute thought I was cute too.'

Oh, the optimism of youth. I won't bore you with all the sordid details, but after a few dates, I found myself in an unbeliveable situation. Picture this: Myself, Kelli, my litte sis, and her's. The little girls are in the room, doing whatever it is young girls do, and Kelli and I are out in the living room.

*phgagh*

The passion I felt that night. Kissing, writhing, touching. Comforter on the floor, couple pillows. When she ran her hand under my shirt, and caressed my bare stomach...

GOD, what a thrill.

Now, this is the part where the suave, worldly, super spy type would make the sexual innuendo, throw back his martini, and get down to business. Well, yours truly got kinda flustered. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. We kept making out, and it was hot as hell, but I think I paniced (sic) into inaction.

Anyhow, it was fucking hot. So, I'm thinking things are going good. I mean, for me, they're going great. Flash forward 3 or so months. Gerry turns up missing, and Sue enlists my and Pop's help to find him. After checking a few of his usual watering holes, we decide to cruise by the infamous house, and see if he's returned.

Seeing an unfamiliar car in the driveway, I ask. Sue tells me it's Kelli's friend Kellie's (how wierd is that? but she really did have a friend Kellie...that I knew before I knew Kelli) car. Needless to say, I found out later that night, from my Dad, might I add, that the car in fact, belonged to Kelli's boyfriend.

So, what does that have to do with the title? I told you It was going to be long.

One fine day, let's call it ten years later, I'm working at the 7-ELEVEn in Morro Bay, CA, and in walks this redhead. I glance at her, and the evil, wicked part of my brain says 'That's Kelli.' I respond with 'Get the fuck outta here', in classic Eddie Murphy style. She walks up, items in hand, and I hit her with 'This is going to sound strange, but did you ever live in Carson City?'

She looks at me and says 'I know you. You're Rich's son.' Fucking bitch didn't even remember my name (when she met me I was going by john. how the fuck to you forget john for fuck's sake).

I just smiled and blew it off. My only consolation? She looked bad. I mean, she was haggard. Even that didn't help. All the pain, all the frustration. It all came flooding back. I was so pissed off I could hardly see.

If I saw her today, I can't say it'd be any different. So, when 'they', whoever the fuck 'they' are, tell you that time heals all wounds, you can tell them T.J said to kiss his pucker.

Ok. I'm done, and you know a little more about why I don't trust women. I'm going to have one more beer, and lay it down for the night.

Keep those pic requests and questions coming.

El queso grande,

T.

p.s. if any of you are looking for my thursday post, it's over here Da Goddess

Fuck.

There's no coffee, and Poppa neglected to tell me. That means no warm wake up drink for me. We ran out of coffee at work too, and seeing as how I've been having to sock all my cash away for vacay, I don't know if I can find enough to get any.

I hate not having coffee. My sis is working late at the coffee joint today, so I'll prolly walk down there and get a quad later. Oh, btw, she made $65.00 in tips yesterday. The girl working with her made $60.00. Is that disgusting or what?

Oh, yeah. She was off by noonish. She worked like 6.5 hrs, so roughly 10 bucks an hour in tips. And she gets to drink all the coffee she wants.

Sigh. Wish I worked in a coffee joint.

Got about 1/3 of the wood cut up. Some of that still needs to be split, but no biggie. I have many things going on after work today, so I may not get a chance to blog until later.

So far, only Naked has posted questions/pic requests. Guess the rest of you just don't care....*-sniff-*

Ok, going to try and find some cash for coffee.

Be well.

T.

And they're off....

It's 4:30, and I'm home.

Time to cuts me some wood. I may post afterwards, but I may be too burnt out to. One never knows, does one?

I hope I still have a pair of earplugs hanging around. Those damn saws can get loud.

2/5th's of the week's over. Woo Hoo!!

Ok, guess I've stalled enough.

Sigh.

T.

Yeah, Tuesday's are gonna suck....

I'm fucking tired already, and I just got up. Damn them, damn them all to hell.

The t.v. writers, that is. Those inconsiderate bastards that make me stay up so late.

Read this post, and give me some ideas people. I'm starting to feel unloved.....

Got the chain for my chainsaw, so I've, if you'll pardon the expression....Got my work cut out for me when I get home today. Some of the wood can be eaisly cut into usable lengths. Some will have to be notched with the saw, and split by hand. Joy.

Ok. Guess I'm out for now.

T.

Give me Liberty, or give me rest.

I can see that Monday's are going to become long days.....

As it's 11:30 already.

There's football, Everybody Loves Raymond at 9:00, Two and a half Men at 9:30, and then CSI: Miami. That makes it 11:00. Throw in a random web check before bed, and there you have it.


Not much longer for this world tho.

I can hear my pillow whispering to me. That could just be all the beer tho. Kidding. I've only had 2 tonight.

Anyhow, hope everyone made it through Monday alive and well.

T.

Are you ready for some football?

I mean, it's only the Packers and the Titans, but it's football, at least.

A ride home made the day a bit nicer than I had anticipated. I've been sitting here reading blogs, and decided to finally post.

I've got an internet radio station playing (80's rock, since you asked) and wallowing in memories. Just heard 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot', and 'Sweet Child o' Mine' is on now.

My sister's supposed to come get me so I can go get a chain for the saw. I was hoping to go earlier, but, oh well. The sun's going down here now, and I prolly won't get any cutting done tonight.

Makes for a busy Tuesday, I guess.

Well, R just showed up, so I'm out. Maybe more later.

T.

I blame all of you...

It used to be that I never had any time to do anything, and I couldn't figure out why. Now, as you all know, I read lots of blogs, and that seems to be cutting into my non-life.

Case in point: I got up an hour early today, as I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I figured that gave me plenty of time to read, comment, and post my own entry. Such was not the case. You all need to stop writing so well, and stop having so many adventures.

I get so swept up in all of your lives, I run out of time to update you on mine.

I have one request: Get boring, people, and give me my life back.

But seriously, I fell asleep on the couch last night, thus no second post. It's Monday, and J doesn't have a car, so it's power blog, and Jack in the Box for lunch (semi-yuck).

I'm going to try to get a new chain for the saw today. It's just a matter of finding a ride really, but that can be a neat trick sometimes.

Oh yeah, I decided to jump on the bandwagon. It's the whole 'post 3 pictures' thing I'm speaking of, of course. Here's your chance. Request 3 photos, and I'll even borrow from Nakedlady, and let you ask 3 questions too.

Ok, I'm off to revolt myself, and possibly give myself food poisoning. Hope you all have a tolerable Monday.

El poquito grande,

T.

Weekend Update.....

I've been fucking busy.

That about sums it up. I got my cord of wood today, and I'm sad to report, most of the wood will need to be split, or at least cut again before we can fit it in the stove. It was still a bargain tho. $35.00, and we prolly netted a cord and a quarter, maybe a cord and a half.

I found out that I need a new chain for the chain saw tho. I was going to get started on it, but instead of cutting the wood, it was burning a slot in it, and I decided not to push my luck.

It's quick, and it's dirty, but that's my Sunday post.

I'll have more later,

T.

P.S. fuck you kerry collins. you can suck my dick. 3 ints, one ran back for a td. he only fumbled once this week tho. cocksucker. t.

Where oh where has my Underdog gone...

I don't know why that popped into my head, but there you have it. It dates me in a big way, but I know that at least one or two of you remember watching Underdog on t.v. as a kid.

So, my humpless hump day turned into a postless one as well.

My son called, and I think that had something to do with it. He called about the time I'd have come back upstairs to blog...

Then H & R came by for some video game fun.

So the thunder god's day has come once again, and I'm ready to meet it headfirst. Yeah, right.

My son got his liscense. God, does that make me feel old. Well, looks like it's time to put some clothes on and head to work.

Oh, btw Michelle, thanks for the 'attractive' gift that you sent me. Was that bought in Londontown, or locally in S.A.?

Later,

T.

Later still

Almost 10 p.m. here, and I'm pretty tired. My neck and back feel soooo much better.

A friend of mine, H, stopped by, and we've been playing Driv3r. It's pretty phat. We're getting near the end, and some of the driving you have to do is just sick shit. I mean, really!!

I have a couple options at this point:

Catching up on all of your blogs.

Playing some Soul Calibur 2 (game fucking rocks) so that I can get better with Talim.

Going to sleep early, and waking up about 3 hours too early.

Think I'll take my chances with the sleep thing.

Hope you all are well, and if I haven't said it lately, I appreciate that you all take the time to come say hi.

T.

I love Chiropractice....

The promised 'later' post.

After I got to work, the act that my back/neck/shoulders was putting on became a full-fledged stage show. I made it until noon, a grating, groaning 5 hours, and then I bailed.

I had to walk to my Chiro, but as it wasn't my lower back bothering me, no great shakes. I was laying there in his office, the heat blanket draped over my neck and shoulders, just drifting....

I either dozed off, or was just on the verge when Dr Mark popped in. If I haven't mentioned, I've known Dr. Mark for somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 years now. Long before he was a chiro. A typical visit to his office goes like this, today included:

1. I walk, unannounced, into his office, and sign the sheet.

2. I wait anywhere from 5-15 minutes, and I'm led into a room. The heat blanket shortly follows.

3. Dr. Mark comes in, asks me about Pops (they used to work together, thus the method by which I know him), and adjusts me.

4. I walk out the door, adjusted, happy, and no shorter on cash than I walked in.

So, there I am, nearly comatose, and in he pops. We chat a bit, I regale him with my coming vacation (i'm so looking forward to it), and we agree to get together for some golf soon.

I walked out of his office with a spring in my step, and a smile on my face. I still can't turn my head all the way to my right, but almost. And the shoulder pain is totally gone.

I feel bad when I go tho, and I guess that's why I don't go as often as I should. I mean, he's never charged me, and he's like a uncle to me, but I've always felt like I'm taking advantage of him on some level.

I'm prolly just to sensitive about it.

I'm going to leave you with this though tho:

Somewhere out there, is the world's worst doctor. Bottom marks in every class, just barely made the grade....The scary thing?

Someone has an appointment to see him tomorrow.....

Casa del cerveza,

T.

I think I've finally got this cold on the run....

It hasn't quite turned over the reins yet, but I think I'm wearing down it's resistance.

It's obvious that I haven't been posting, so I'll just gloss over my absence.

Not a lot's been going on, but here are some highlights:

The good:

The state offers wood cheap, and I got a cord of wood for the winter at the rock bottom price of 35 bucks. Yeah, that's right, 35 dollars, American. It's all cut and stacked, and all I have to do is go pick it up. What a deal.

My sis found a much better deal on a rent-a-car than we were expecting, and now we've got like an extra $150.00 for the Dland safari.

The bad:

Kerry Collins, qb for the Raiders, and starter with Gannon injured fucking pissed me off on Sunday. He threw for 3 fucking int's, and sucked major ass all day. O yeah. He fumbled twice too. What an asswipe. If I were coaching, Tui'd get the ball on Sunday.

My cold comes and goes in waves. Today it's not so bad, but my back's acting up. I just can't win.

Ok...I'm about out of time.

I'll be better, I promise. Look for more later.

T.

Are any of you having trouble....

With my page loading properly?

Since yesterday, I've noticed some kinda freaky shit going on. Bottom of the page, and the right hand side don't seem to be loading.

And what's up with my post count not changing? I've posted at least 3 times, and it still says 99 posts.

What the fuck is that all about?

I don't trust blogger atm, so this is all you get.

Nothing exciting going on anyhow. I'll post later and let you know what Thursday did to me.

T.

Going humpless once again.

Well, the symptoms have abated somewhat. No sore throat when I woke up this morning, and that's a good thing. I know I've been lagging on my posts (woo hoo post 100 here) but I've been reading all of yours.

I've even made a comment or three.

In other news, the db from hell's done. YAY!!! At least my part is. Now I'm doing a scanning job. Much less boring. Still a bit boring, as the documents are all about emmisions from smokestacks and the like. It's for the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources. Pretty dry.

Not that I read them. I glance tho.

The countdown seems to be taking forever. In two days, I'll be a month from vacay. I can hardly wait. Next year's gonna be a kick too. Disneyland's turning 50. Space Mountain's been down for like 2 years running (still) to revamp it. I hear they're putting a loop in. That will/would be so cool.

Well, if I'm going to get any reading done, I better dash. I may post later, if the walk home doesn't kill me, that is.

Oh, and Suse, I know it's an oxymoron. Kinda fun that.

El poquito grande,

T.

Thanks for all your well-wishes.

Though the symptoms of the cold continue to befog and befuddle me, I somehow feel better.

It's Monday morning, and I so don't want to go to work. That's normal Monday morning crap, but add the cold, and the walk, and I just have to sigh.

As I've been sick, there's not really much to report.

I've got no energy.

This is going to be way short, as I just can't get into it.

Oh, bonus cold symptom....Sore throat.

Go Raiders. Woo Hoo, 2-1. Way to beat Tampa Bay.

El poquito grande,

T.

What do you get...

If you place:

3 pounds of snot
1 pound of cotton
2 boxes of Theraflu
1 bottle of Nyquil
Half a dozen aspirn

in a 10 pound container and shake vigorously?

You get a bloody fucking mess. You also get me over the last few days. I fucking hate colds.

Sorry to start the worry patrol. Just haven't had the energy to do anything.

I'll try and post later.

Pantalones del gato,

T.

Hummpy hump day to you

Hummpy hump day to you
Hummpy hump day dear friends
Hummpy hump day to you

Heh. Humpday. Week's half over, and I'm another day closer to vacation. God, when I'm paying for it, and we need money by such and such a date, it seems to be lumbering along like a freight train. Now that it's paid for, and I'm waiting to go, it's taking forever.


I'm going to date myself a bit here, but do any of you remember the great 'Ice' rap invasion of the early-mid 90's? It was insane. Almost overnight, there was this entire crew of, well, I hate to call them muscians, because I don't really consider what they do music, going my the name 'Ice' something. Or something 'Ice'. If you ask me, it was all pretty lame.

But, of course, nobody ever asks. It must be because they know what kind of sarcasm they're going to get. I was working at a photo lab in Walnut Creek, CA at the time, and we used to come up with what we called: The Least Popular 'Ice' Rap names.

So, in the grand tradition of David Letterman, here are the Top Ten Least Popular 'Ice' Rap Names:

	10.  Ice Water



	9.  Ice 'D' Tea



	8.  Ice Scraper



	7.  Ice Box



	6.  Ice Latte



	5.  Ice Cream Sundae



	4.  Ice Cube Tray



	3.  Ice Bucket



	2.  Ice Milk



And, the number one, least popular 'Ice' rap names:













	1.  Ice Maker

Yeah, silly, I know, but I'm in a hurry this morning. I'm not going to be late today.

T.

Fuck you, you fucking CUNT!!!

Hey, you. Yeah, you.

In the blue WRX.

Let me give you a nickle's worth of free advice, you fucking twatmop. The next time you're on your way to get a fucking coffee, you might not want to start fucking daydreaming about what you're gonna fucking order while you're still fucking driving, as you might not be paying fucking attention to the fucking road, causing you to almost fucking hit someone in a fucking crosswalk, you fucking dumb bitch.

/rant off

Sorry about that. In case you can't tell, I was nearly center-punched on the way into work today. I'm a pretty safe walker. I use the traffic lights and crosswalks at the dangerous intersections. I stop, look and listen, just like I'ma'sposed to. In fact, it was listening that saved my narrow white ass today.

If I hadn't heard her car, and made an aggressive move forward, the bitch would have hit me. I'm not just guessing about the coffee either. I saw her stop at Java Joes, a pretty rockin' coffee house, not 200 yards from where she nearly killed me. I considered going over to her, and haranguing her in my best Long-haired-hippie-freak-in-an-army-fatigue-jacket-Viet-Nam-vet-looking kind of way, but decided against it.

Things like that always seem to carry concequences in real life, so I decided to come here and call her names instead.

I'm too pissed off (still) to write anymore. I may be back later, after I 'adjust' my attitude.


T.

A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou...

Ok, coffee, a bagel, and the start of a head cold. Not as poetic, of course, but infinitely more accurate.

I do have to say I'm fucking pissed. Why, you ask? Let me enlighten you. When I got off work Friday, I noticed that the wind was blowing backwards. That sounds strange, but in Carson City, the wind is very predictable. In the mornings, it blows from the East to the West. Afternoon reverses the flow. It's a phenomenon known as mountain winds.

It's a pretty basic concept, and here's the gist of it: In the morning, the sun heats the mountains which lay along the west side of the city. The warm air rises, pulling air upwards, and inwards from the valley. In the afternoon, the vally floor is heated, and reverses the flow. Pain in the ass if you ask me.

So, the wind's wrong and I know it. I'm walking out of work with J, and I tell him as much. "Gonna be a storm", I predict. Well, the wind blew all weekend, doing it wrong the whole time, but Sunday, we did get a bit of drizzle. So, the storm hit, but not that hard.

Or so I thought. As I was riding to work yesterday (yay...no walking on monday) and we came around the bend to get a glance at the mountains, I notice something just wrong. The slopes that line the Western horizon have fucking snow on them. That's way, way, way too early. It's still September, for fuck's sake.

I'm already scared of what this winter might hold.

Well, I'm off to see what you're up to, my friends.

T.

The post that should have been

A few days ago, I titled a post My favorite mass-murderer-cum-serial-murderer wanna-be.

I had no idea at the time, but I would be again using the phrase, tho sans the wanna-be.

There is a serial killer out there, people, and I know who she is. She has long passed into the realm of mass-murderer as well. She's kill hundreds...Hell, maybe thousands of people.

I'm speaking of course, of Jessica Fletcher, the character that Angela Lansbury plays on the show that I call Murder, she Committed.

You see, I have an obscure theory that she's the one doing all the killing. What I think is this: She picks a person at random in a 6 degrees of separation kind of way, and studies them. She then draws an elaborate 'web of intrigue', her book, if you will, picks a person to frame, and does it. The 'confessions' that she always gets? Brainwashing. She's a hypnotyst, I'm sure of it.

Check it out: She's always at, or near the scene of the crime, so she has opportunity. She's always 'working on a novel', or 'doing a book tour.' She's got a perfect alibi. She 'remembers things', helping the police, hindering them too, sometimes, all the while, slowly insuinating herself into the investigation.

It's really subtle, I mean she's good. It's a pretty plush gig, if you think about it, and I have to admit, it would be nice to travel, but...

There's one glaring fact tho. She's the only person that all the deadders have in common.

She's been at it for years. She's crisscrossed the country countless times. Who knows how many people she's killed.

Of course, Pop argues vehemently that she's not the killer, but I think deep down, he's beginning to wonder.

Presto con gusto,

T.

How many years to retirement?

I swear, it gets harder and harder to get up every day.

I don't know why that should be. I went to bed early last night, too. It's not fair, not fair at all. And, apparently, I've forgotten how to type. You aren't seeing it, but just about every other word I'm typing this morning is a typo.

It's driving me fucking nuts. Type a couple letters, backspace, start word over. It's a great time. Especially when I'm in a hurry, as I am most mornings these days. I still have to go read pages, and I've got no time.

I am getting a ride to work this a.m., so that's cool. It's still work tho, and I can't say that I'm pleased.

Don't get me wrong, I have a pretty good work ethic. I don't think that I should be allowed to sponge off a living, but I just want a break. Just a month or 2. Maybe 6. If I could find a way to get 6 months worth of rent/bills/food money and afford to take half a year off, I'd be the happiest camper alive.

Dream on you hippie. Ok....gonna go see what y'all are up to.

Carpe dentum,

T.

Like sands through the hourglass.....

...[so are the Days of our Lives]...

I got nothing done today of course. It's almost 7, and I've just started my laundry. I have to do at least 3 loads, just to catch up.

It's hell. I do this everytime too. If I could just do, like, a couple loads during the week, I'd be fine. I know this, and yet it does me no good.

I tell myself, you have to change, you have to get better. Then I tell myself to just chill out, it's only the laundry. If I have to, I can do a load of 'guy laundry' at almost anytime, and have clothes for the next day. That's the problem, really. There's really no punishment for my indiscrection.

I hem, I haw, and I put off. I procrastinate to the nth degree, and I'm utterly fearless!!

Yeah, I'm a wild man. Watch me not do my laundry.


El burrito muerte,

T.

LOUD!!!

That's the word that best describes my niece's bday party.

Followed by luau. It was fun, and family and all, but there were 7, 8-9-10-year old girls, and a couple brother boys.

Fuck, but they were loud.

The food was great of course (poppa cooked): Kabobs and rice. Beef, pork, and veggie. There was also snack food: Chips, coctail weenies, and cheese cubes.

Was a pretty fun time, but I again ate too much, and was uncomfortable.

I don't envy SSO tho (sis's significan other). T'was a sleep over as well, and sis had to open at Kupps....Poor SSO.

Got nothing done yesterday....

Today's gonna be a pain. Have like 4 loads of laundry to do, plus I may do the room switch.

Arrrgh...may be back.

T.

Saturday morning, and I'm fucking pissed.

Woke up at 6:00 ish. It's my fucking day off. I should be fucking sleeping.

Now, it's 7:00 ish, and I'm still pissed. I suppose, in at least one way it's good. I should have time to get some of the ton of shit done that I need to. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. I'll sit here and blog/read till who knows when, the prolly log into EQ, just to see who's on...

I'll prolly burn my tomorrow as I rush around and try to get things done.

Not much more to report from yesterday. Only hit 1 4-spot on keno. That's $4.80, or if you're playing one at a time (natch) 96 hands. If the coctail waitress had been faster, I would have been drunker when I got home, but c'est la vie.

I had/have beer here, so it's no big deal. Then my friend H stopped by, and we played some Soul Calibur 2. Then my friend J stopped by 'just cause he was in the area.' He doesn't get in the area much. He's got one of those girlfriends.

All in all, not a bad day, except for the too tired to blog thing.

Oh, had a long chat with ASB about the up and coming joyness that will be my new site. More details on that as they become available.

Damn...got sidetracked reading again. Guess I'll post this, and then get back to it.

Look for more later.

Pulpo Ranchero,

T.

My favorite mass murderer cum. serial killer wanna be...

I had all kinds of stuff I wanted to say, but now I'm too tired.

Busy day.

The highlights:

Got an ok buzz on at the casino, but didn't win much.

Had a nice chat, and got some ideas for my new site.

It's lame, I know.

Look for me tomorrow.

Pulpo Ranchero,

T.

Stolen moments

This is my lunch, and as you can see, I'm not eating. I have part of the burrito left from lunch yesterday, and in a couple mins, I'll go downstairs and eat it.

I'm in the State Library right now, soaking up some free T1 goodness. I love the puters up here. I work in the basement of the building, so it's a pretty easy trek for me.

I've been made 'an offer I can't refuse', so I will be pulling up stakes, and moving this mess to new digs, courtesy of ASB.

So, that's all you get until after I break the bank at keno tonight. Yeah, right!!

Buenos los tacos,

T.

He's got a special place in heaven, I know he does...

The guy that figured out coffee, I mean. It makes my mornings so much more tolerable.

That being said, I'm naked again. It seems to be sort of an in-demand thing, so I guess I can naked morning blog a regular thing. I mean, I'm usually naked when I get out of the shower anyhow. Ok...on to the post.

Ah, Friday. [deep contented breath]

I wonder what today will hold. It's payday, of course, and I'll be stopping by the casino to play on their nickel for a bit. I may see about invoking Friday Protocol. My boss has been in kind of a bad mood lately, so I may not ask.

I'm halfway, maybe slightly more done with my fucking database at work. Right now, I'm fixing mistakes that the...oh, I don't know... 8 or 9 other people that worked on it made. I can seen the light at the end of the tunnel tho. Oh, wait!!! That's a fucking train.

Heh. Looks like it's going to be a bit on the short side this am. Still have reading to do.

Look for drunken post-casino post later. Be well, my friends.

Fiesta con feugeo,

T.

Damn...

I know I promised you a story, but my back is acting up.

I need to get horizontal.

I'll get it up in the next couple days. (minds out of the gutter, ladies)

This one's straight of the great little Mexican restaurant down the street from work. Treated myself today. Oh...it's the closer that I stole from the menu.

Pulpo Ranchero.

T.

I can't think of a title

A few things:

1. I've been asked (at least twice now) if I was serious when I was handing out a compliment. For future reference, I hardly ever joke like that. If I say something nice, I mean it.


2. When you come here, expect a bit more, shall we say, wisecrackery? Even then tho, it will seldom be at the expense of anyone else. Except celebrities. They're crying out to be made fun of.


3. I'm really glad that I've met all of you, and I thank you all for coming to, and commenting on, my little diatribes.

It's good to have a place, a time. Somewhere/when where I know I have to write. I'm writing so much more now. Here, on paper, in my head. Having someplace to flop it down is nice.

I'm going to type in an EverQuest story that I wrote. It's about my Necromancer. When I'm done, I'll post it.

Stay tuned.

T.

Coffee: in hand. Clothes: nowhere to be found.

Damn, it was tough getting up this morning. Why is it like that sometimes, I wonder.

Eyes full of sandpaper, head full of cotton; unbalanced, foggy, unable to function.

What the shit is that? I'd hate to think it's just cause it's Thursday. It's almost over for another week tho. A mere 2 days remain. I have high hopes that I'll make it through. We'll see tho.

I'm really feeling a bit to foggy to be very bloggy, so forgive me if I seem a bit off.

Damn, coffee is good.

Ok...it's short, but I'm short on time. Got a lot of reading to do before I go. Be well all.

Fiesta del zapatas,

T.

Humpless again.

Ahhhhh......

Week's half over, and I couldn't be happier. I'm making progress on that damn db at work. I know I keep bitching about it, but if you spent 10 minutes alone with it, you'd loathe it too.

Been pretty busy since I got home from work. It's 9:30 p.m. local as I write this, and I'm finally getting to relax.

This is a special announcement for Suse:

Yes, meat of the devil. I'm guessing it's haggis.

Watched Hellboy tonight. Pretty cool flick. Effects were good. I've also got a copy of The Punisher on loan. I'm leary tho. I have an embarassing fact to reveal about myself. I used to collect comics. Moreover, however, I used to read them too. I saw that apalling piece of tripe with Dolf Lungren. Well, as much of it as I could stomach.

I read The Punisher comics. He was just a mean guy. I mean, he did have his reasons. If the mob rubbed out my family, I'd go after them too. Not that the mob exsists.

[glances nervously about]

A fellow booker says that they've got the story pretty close, and that, in the main, is what it's all about.

Well, it's 10:00 p.m. now, and I think I'm gonna go drool on my pillow for a while.

Siesta con agua,

T.

Naked and coffeeless

That's my morning so far.

I'm having a bit of a time getting moving this morning. I was going to go get coffee last night, but I forgot, so it's my own fault.

There's coffee at work tho, and I'll be drinking it soon.

Not much has happened since my last post. Well, I did sleep, but that's not too exciting. I've been getting to work late every day for like...Oh, I don't know...the last week and a half.

I blame you. If you weren't all such interesting people, with such interesting things to say, I'd be outta here on time. I'm not going to be late today, so off I go.

Carne del Diablo,

T.

Button, button, who's got the button?

Tuesday.

One day closer to the weekend. The tedium at work continues. I swear, that db's gonna be the death of me.

Terminator 2 is on. One of the better sequels (is that spelled right?...i don't care), I must say. I've come to the conclusion that the only way to get any writing done is to do it before I read anyone else's blog.

I get so swept up in it all, that before I know it, I've been at the screen for 3 hours, and written nothing. Well, except for comments on all of your blogs.

Don't you just love getting comments? I sure do.

Oh yeah, here's one for you to comment on. I find myself in a bit of a quandry. You may remember me mentioning R stopping by...I think it was Monday...for dinner. Well, I was blogging when she got here, and she came upstairs to find me. Of course I told her what I was doing, I mean, she knows I blog.

Now, the dilemma. She told me she wants to read it.

Ack!!

I'm really not sure...I mean, hell...I don't know what I mean. For me, coherent thought and R are not often in the same room. She just left btw. Strangely enough, she walked into dinner tonight too.

Enchiladas, if you're curious.

So, yeah, I don't know what to do about R. I think I may have missed my window. You know, the 'before we're too good of friends to have sex' window. I seem to do that a lot. Don't know if I'm slow on the uptake, or just too much a gentleman somtimes.

And I mean that both ways, don't get me wrong. It's not just women that can get to that point. My friend Tammy is a perfect example. She's gorgeous. Ex-gymnast. Norweigian descent. Hay colored hair. Ice blue eyes. Helen of Troy only wishes.

The thought of making out with her makes me physically ill. I don't mean that in a bad way, understand. We're just too close.

There was a time, when Tammy needed a place to stay, and she moved into the House. You know the house. The coffee joanzed house. Well, Tammy and I shared a bedroom. A small one. We slept together for 6 months. And that's all we did. Hell, I remember the first time she hugged me.

I think we'd known each other about 2 or 3 years, and hadn't seen each other in ages. She ran up to me, threw her arms around me, and hugged me. It was the best hug I'd ever had. But, in some small way, even that felt a bit awkward, almost too intimate.

I haven't seen Tammy in a while. 2 years maybe. She lives in Socal, so I'm going to try to hook sommat on the Dland trip. Oh, there is that.

I've been talking to Da Goddess about maybe meeting for a drink or a dozen in LA sometime during the first week of November. Anyone else interested?

Ok, almost 10...gonna go read....maybe you'll get a visit from me. Hell, I may even blog again. Stranger things have happened.

T.

My t.v. is posessed by Satan...

Well, maybe not Satan himself. I mean it is kind of a menial job, and he's prolly got one of the lesser daemons working on it, but one or more of the denizens of the underworld is/are playing havoc with it.

The t.v. is old. It's a Sylvania, and when I received it, it came with an after market remote control. At first, there were no problems at all. Clear picture, great sound, remote worked like a charm. Over the course of time tho, some pretty strange things have happened.

The first thing to go wrong was the remote, of course. Now, I'm not one of the children raised to think that a t.v. with a remote is a standard issue item. I remember when I was the remote. I also remember twist dials, and the era of 12 channel cable t.v. Being that my t.v.'s set up pretty close to my desk, it's not even that far to turn it on, or change the channel, so that's not why I miss the remote.

Most remotes have 2 functions that, if they were the only 2 they performed, it would be enough for me. The last channel button, and the mute button get a lot of use in this house. There are so many commercials out there that earn a 'mute' award from me, that it's not even funny. Well, maybe a little. The worst are usually muted, as I flip to another channel, courtesy of the 'last channel' button. Needless to say, I now suffer through the crap.

Then, there's the picture. Somedays, it's nearly perfect. Somedays, it's so bad you can't tell what you're watching. One of the wierd things is, it seems to depend on the time of day, or more distressing, what I want to watch. Sometimes, if there's something on channel 8 that I want to watch, channels 7 and 9 will be perfect, while channel 8 looks like a digtal snowstorm. Sometimes the picture is really bad, but the sound is perfect. Sometimes it's the other way around.

That's aggravating enough, but sometimes it refuses to turn off. I get up, hit the power button, and what happens? The digital readout goes off, and the sound stops, but the t.v. stays on, showing a soundless version of whatever channel I was on. The only way to make it stop is to unplug it. This will go on for days, weeks at a time, then it will turn off normally again. Sometimes.

The t.v. is old, as I've said, and it was free, so I guess you could say I got my money's worth. I hear you asking 'why don't you just buy a new one.' My answer to you is I'm too fucking broke to do so. Maybe after Dland, but in the crunch months, there's hardly money for anything.

So, that's the story of my crazy t.v.

Any of you have one you're not using?

If you fed ex it to me, I'll be your friend forever.

Bcq,

T.

And so, since C.S.I. Miami is a rerun...

One last post before bed.

North Shore was pretty good. It's cheesy nighttime soap stuff, but it's good.

I ate an enormous apple fritter just a bit ago.

I heated it up, and melted butter on it. It was decadent. It was also good, and I don't feel a bit guilty about it.

Maybe about making you all want doughnuts, but not about eating mine. I'm sure there's no coffee, as I forgot to buy some today. Can't say I'm looking forward to tomorrow morning.

It's possible that my sis dropped coffee off. Having a sister that put herself through beauty school as a barrista is pretty cool. As an employee of S'buks, she got a pound a week. She's switched back to her old stomping grounds, tho. It's a place called Kupps, and they have a few I think. Seems to me they started in Seattle or sommat.

She's got a salon job (she's a aesthetician...think that's how it's spelled) but will be working part time at the coffee joint. That place is insane. It's a drive-throug, no bigger than a Photomat...for those of you that remember those...and she averages like 50 bucks a day in tips. TIPS!! Plus hourly. Her first day back, she made $65.00. That's just nuts.

Either way, I don't think she brought any over. I'll cross my fingers. I suppose I could go look, but that would take all the fun out of it. Night.

Bcq,

T.

Well, I know that technically, football's not over yet...

But as it's just the Packers, and the Panthers, neither of which team I care much about I thought I'd post. 'Sides, North Shore's on in like 15, and there's no way I'm missing it to watch either of them.

Watching the tail end of Everybody Loves Raymond atm, waiting for my show.

Monday treated me pretty well, after all. I'm still working with the same database, but now, at least, I'm qc'ing it, and it's less repetitive. Still pretty dry stuff. I swear, if I have to type the words Tentative Subdivision one more time, I think I'm going to tear my fingers off.

Now, I'm no slouch at the keyboard, I mean, I prolly churn out 50-60 wpm, if I'm on a roll, but for some reason, those two words tentative, and subdivision, when I try to type them make my hands go funky, and I have to almost stop to type them.

I only just found this out, of course, because, in the course of my normal day, I use those words, oh, like...ah...never. Of course, over the course of the last few days at work, I've had to type them. Alot. Like every 5 or 10 minutes.

Now, you might think that I'm exaggerating, but I can assure you I'm not. I'm working with public health documents, mostly to do with water and sewer. And every housing development out there was, at some point, a tentative subdivision.

Got a post card today from Wind Spirit today.

She sent it to me from London. I was rather amazed, as she just mailed it on the 9th. Pretty fast post from the U.K. It shows various scenens of London...that's it...gonna try to get that scanner up.

Oh, yeah. She has the coolest printing hand. Maybe a sample of that too, pending her approval and the functioning of the scanner.

Heh...I love this show. Tessa is such a bitch. I'd do her tho, don't get me wrong.

Well, let me extend my sympathies to those of you had bad Mondays, and my congradulations to those of you that had good ones. Gonna go downstaris and watch on the good t.v., as Pops has retired. I haven't told you this, but the t.v. in my room is possesed by Satan.

More on that later.

Bcq,

T.

The anticipation is building...can you feel it...

Another quickie, just to say that I've been reading, and now it's time for.....

FOOTBALL

Back after the game to regale you all with the Monday = No Fun Day post.

Bcq,

T.

Change in the wind...

Alright, already.

I've made the shift to haloscan comments, so go nuts folks.

Just to let you all know.

Look for a real post later.

Bcq,

T.

Lunchtime quickie....

Haven't had one of those in a loooong time, but here's one for all of you.

Home for lunch, and waiting for water to boil.

Hope everyone's day is going good.

Mine is not. Boring project from hell continues.

Bcq,

T.

Dripping wet and naked

That's a fair description of me at the moment. I just got out of the shower to find out that we don't have any fucking coffee.

Great way to start the day, I have to say.

I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few days. Since I started this blog, actually. Just writing every day or so, knowing that there are people out there that actually make time to come see if I've said anything, makes me feel good.

I've got some ideas for upcoming posts that are going to be monster long, so brace yourselves.

It's about to get bumpy in here.

Bcq,

T.

Sigh...

So much to do, and so little time. Got nothing done this weekend that I was supposed to.

I mean, I've been meaning to blog for 2 days now.

Haven't had any energy this weekend. Course, I've been staying up way too late, but that's beside the point.

Damn...only 8 p.m., and I'm going to wimp out.

Bcq,

T.

Never forget.

neverforget
Originally uploaded by kvenya.

Thanks, guys and gals.

I realize how silly this is, of course, but I just can't help myself.

In a attempt to sleep in tomorrow, I'm forcing myself to stay awake.

It's nearly 1 a.m. local, and I'm already kinda punchy. I did get to play some vs Soul Calibur 2 today tho.

That game kics major ass.

I know it'll never work.

I could try that...Hey, there's an idea...

Night.

bcq,

T.

Well, now.

Reno Gran Prix
Originally uploaded by kvenya.

Things worked out better that I had expected.

H&R showed up, and no, not my accountants. I sent them off to get my beer. I got to sit a home, and just anticipate the ice coldness of it all.

I'm still having issues with my fucking digital cam. If I can't get it working tomorrow, I'm all about the mac scanner I have.

If I can find the right drivers, I'm golden.

This is a shot from the Reno Gran Prix. It's old, but one of my faves from the race.

Buenos con queso,

T.

I hate it when things don't go my way.

I'm pissed off, and in no mood to write yet. I've only had 1.5 beers (at home, mind, the wait help at the casino was teh suck today), and I will soon be heading to the store for more.

I so don't have enough for tonight.


Feauggahh...

I'll be back.

Buenos con queso,

T.

*Yawn*

Friday at last.

It's been a slow mutha fukka of a week, that's for sure. I rattled on a bit about it over here.

I got my clean clothes muddled through, and I'm looking forward to pulling those dryer-hot Levi's on. There's nothing quite like that feeling. I've always loved it.

I talked to L again last night, and we were discussing SNB, who seems to be ready to settle down already. I guess I should set the stage a bit. L's 26, he's 40. He's all 'I want to be with you for the....blah, blah, blah.'

L had another perfect line: 'He says exactly what you'd want to hear, if you were dumb enough to actually believe it.'

Sometimes that girl just cracks me up. Though, I can get her rolling pretty good too. Things get funny around here. That whole 'frustrated stand up comic' thing I have going on, you understand.

Sigh.

Gonna be late again.

Guess I better get dressed and get the fuck out. Look for 'drunk post-casino' update later. Come on people, did you expect any less? It's fucking Friday for crying out loud.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Bastard cock-fucks.

That's what I've decided to call the asshats that stole my Painfully Obvious website.

I've had that name for years now. Like keeping kids off drugs is more important than my ego. I swear, sometimes people just piss me off.

/rant off

I was talking to L when I came up with that phrase, as I was telling her about the blatant rip-off of my name when the commercial came on again. We were watching The Simpsons together (yes, on the phone). She had, to quote her 'a bit of a tiff' with her shiny-new b/f this morning.

L is so not a morning person. I've know that since I've known her. My favorite quote from her on the subject?

"I've had a morning every day of my life, and I still don't like it."

Pretty much sums it up for me.

But, I digress.

SNB wants to know why she's grumpy in the morning. I'd like to be able to tell him to just chill, nod, smile, and wait. That's the only plan of attack that works. L and I used to work together, and she came on shift as I was leaving. I was on the unenviable midnight to 6 a.m. shift. Many were the days I got a ride home from her in the morning.

I learned then and there to just let her be. I understand that he had my usual Thursday. In spades. I'm not going into details, but he must have gotten all the bad karma from my last three not so bad ones. She was on her way over to talk to him, and I'm sure they've made up by now. She's supposed to call me later.

Oh, btw, L is going to New Orleans in Oct, and I'm making her send me photos while she's there, so keep your eyes open for that.

Guess that's all for now. I need a shower, and have to do at least one load of 'guy laundry' to get me through tomorrow.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Scared straight.

Today will be the acid test. Those of you that stop by here may know of my aversion to Thursdays. You may also know that the last two have been fairly decent to me.

After all the good fortune I had yesterday, I must say I'm a bit trepidatious (is that even a word?) about today. I did managed to get up on time, so I'm posting, obviously, and drinking some coffee.

I'm dreading work, as the project I'm woking on is so repetetive and boring that it's nearly driving me out of my skull.

It's really too early, and I spent entirely too much time reading all your posts this morning, for me to distribute any shining pearls of wisdom, but I'll see what I can do.

Ok, I've been spacing out here for like 7 minutes trying to come up with something witty, or timely, and I got nothin'.

Guess you'll have to wait until after work. Unless I get to come home for lunch, and have something I just absolutely have to share.

Have a peachy day.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Nuts

Nuts
Originally uploaded by kvenya.

This is one of my photos. Tis not a digital.

Scanned pretty hi-res tho. This is a watered down version. If you want one suitable for wallpaper, let me know.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Big Karma versus little karma.

I'm a big believer in the whole 'what comes around, goes around' philosophy, in the huge, lifetime-spanning, galactic sense of it, but also in a more personal way. There have been a lot of interesting things happening lately. One thing, and I've been putting of the inevitable by not posting it, is that I lost my Carmex.

This, in my personal timeline, is a tragedy of major proportions for 2 reasons. I've had this particular jar for nearly 2 years now. That's a long time to carry something around. I felt like I'd lost a finger. Also, it was the only one I'd had long enough to be almost empty.

Needless to say, I was devastated. My silence stemmed from an almost religious aversion that by speaking the words, it would become true. It's been at least 2, if not 2 and a half weeks since the disappearance. I decided on my way to work this morning to share the story.

Now, a word about my personal karma in a rather general way. There are three possessions, all of which I own multiples of at any given time that I have the worst karma with.

In no particular they are: hairbrushes, remote controls, and sunglasses.

My hairbrush, as those of familiar with my hair can well understand, is an important thing. Usually, within weeks of finding the perfect one, it will go A.W.O.L., to be replaced by an, at best, pale copy.

Remotes are another story. Some devices are very remote intensive. Some functions only work with the O.E.M. devices. I once found my t.v. remote in the washer. Needless to say, it was a goner. Had a JVC VCR remote stop working in my hand once.

I guess I lied. I suppose I did leave sunglasses for last. Prepare yourself for a sad tale. In my short career, I've lost 2 pairs of Vuarnets, 1 pair of Sun Cloud Rose, and I found and lost a pair of Ray-Ban's on the same day. That doesn't even begin to scrape the surface of all the shades I've lost since I stopped paying more that 4 or 5 bucks on a pair. The last pair I bought, I just lost. I think it may have been the same night my Carmex went renegade.

Well, I didn't technically lose them, I suppose.

Just the left lens.

So, that brings us to this morning. I'm nearly to work, when I decided to spill the beans. Come clean, if you will. I get home (got a surpirse ride home ++) came upstairs, got into a pair of shorts, and started up my puter. Ready to see if I can even post, I look down for no reason at all.

There, sitting in plain sight, was my beloved Carmex. Heh, so I decided to write about karma. I read, couldn't decided exactly how I wanted to start the post. I shut down, and went to watch some C.S.I. If you like the show, SpikeT.V. is running it btb all week. Pop's says "need some beer?"

Wph.

He know's I do.

"You need smokes", I ask, knowing he does. "I'll go get you smokes if you're offering beer." Shoeless, I headed to the corner store. Yes, shoeless. Hey, I put a shirt on, cut me some slack. I pay for the beer and the smokes, and take $1.25 out of the change, and drop a quarter in the keno machine.

I set my ticket and push play. I start putting the rest of the money away, notice I have 2 out of 4. Then 3. One of the last numbers? Yeah. 4 out of 4. Hit the cashout button. Investment, 0.25., return $24.00. Time of investment, less than a minute. Wish I could get that kind of return on my market choices.

On the way home, pleased with my luck, I came to a realization. It's Wednesday. I've had 2 good Thursdays in a row. I'm afraid.

Well, I'm going to go read for a bit now.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Wow...wierd...

I couldn't post, but now I have.

Been trying since last night. Home for lunch, so not much now.

More later.

Buenos con queso,

T.

what the fuck

fgdsjafgldsa

It's amazing that I ever get anything written at all.

Really, it is.

I came upstairs about an hour and a half ago to start reading/writing. I've now been reading exclusiely for the entire time.

It's not all my fault, of course. Many of my regulars had links in thier posts, thus prolonging my procrastinaion to write.

---

(and now an aside)

I finally decided to start my Punk band.

I'm going to call it Painfully Obvious, and we're going to rock the planet from here to hell and back again.

Now, all I need are some guys that can play music, and have thier own equipment, a singer, and a roadie crew.

Any takers? I'm going to write the songs, but you all will have to write the music.

Heh. In all seriousness tho, I thought that would be a great name for a Punk band, and strangely was thinking about it just this morning. Now, as to why I broke into your regularly scheduled post; I just saw an anti-drug commercial. The website?

You won't believe it.

---

But, I digress.

Kbear asked a question, and I intend to answer it.

This even goes to finish answering Murphy's question about Carson City.

Home.

Home is where you hang your hat.

Home is where, when you go there, they have to take you in.

Home is where the heart is.

4.5 billion people, 4.8 billion answers.

I was born in the Northern California Bay Area, and lived there until I was 11. My family moved up here to get away from the insanity of California. Most of my family, however, remained in CA. While living here, I always considered that home. Later in life, microseconds after my 18th bday to be precise, I moved to Florida.

I managed a year out there. As Zep says, good times, bad times. I did *blush* lose my virginity there (i know, late bloomer). When the shit hit the fan, I flew out to CA, that was home. That only lasted about 6 months. I moved back with my dad (parent's divorced my Freshman year), and that meant Nevada. I stayed here for a while, but had aspirations of going back to school, and as it's obscenely expensive to go to school in Nevada, and just as obsecenely cheap in CA...well, you do the math. I was in NV just long enough to get moving money. California here I come.

I got there, got a job, and started making plans for school. Heh. School got pushed off a bit. Then I met K. She was going with a friend of mine. Yeah, I know. Pretty low. But she came after me. Long story short, we were made for each other, or so we told ourselves. We made a decision. It involved parenthood, and since I, at the tender age of 22, had amassed all the answers, we decided it was the time.

Again, there was a move in my future. We moved to central CA, near San Luis Obispo, to be near her family. Her home. I lived there for a while. I even got my act together enough to get my degree. Nothing special, just my A.A., but I got out of a 5 semester school in 6 semesters, took no summer classes, and graduated as part of Alpha Gamma Sigma Nat'nl Honor Society. Even took some classes I wanted. Ask me about my golf class and ballistic trajectory.

Right about that time, several things happened. K had been hemming and hawing about our relationship for a long time. I'd asked her to marry me, of course, as we were having a child together. And she'd said yes. And no. And yes again. You get the picture. Anyhow, and I can still remember the day...the way I felt.

She tells me that Stan, a guy I know she's been seeing a bit of, has asked her to marry him. I'm still there. I can see the campus out the huge plate glass windows of the cafeteria. I can still feel the drop in my stomach, still hear her words. She goes on to tell me that she's said yes. I got a ride home..well downtown anyhow...and just wandered. There were other factors...No more school....No more Pell Grants for community college...I hated my job at 7ELEVEn...

So, I decided to move home. This time, it meant Norcal again. I moved up there to get into a real school. USF was my target. I hardly need to tell you that things seldom go as planned. I got 'home', eventually found a job -day job tho, and tougher for school- and then I met J. Heh. You'll get a kick out of this. She was going with a friend of mine. The odd bit? Yeah, same friend. Even longer story, even shorter, she gets sick, goes to the doctor, and they put her on anti-biotics. They neglect, however, to tell her about their negative interaction with BCP's.

Again, you do the math.


Due to circumstances beyond my control, I was forced to move in with J. Now, don't get me wrong, I loved her. She loved me. Neither of us, however wanted to live together. We lived together a year, the 5 of us in a 2 bedroom apartment. Me, J, her two boys (from her marriage), and our daughter, S. A year. Then she moved home, a town about 13 miles away, but truly home, to her parent's house. Me? Yeah, same same. Lived with my mom and s/d. Fiastrous. Moved into my dad's studio apt while I tried to make cash to get back to CA.

Made it back to CA. Moved in with my sis. Pretty cool place/people. Sunday morning breakfast became almost a tradition. Then, all of a sudden, my sis wants to move in with our aunt. Many things happened, some worth mentioning, some not. It was at that point that I had my epiphany.

I actually knew where I wanted to be. I thought, and thought, and then it just came to me.

I called my Dad in Carson City, and asked him if I could move home. He said yes, and I never looked back.

---

So that, dear Kbear, in a nutshell, is home for me.

Buenos con Queso,

T.

P.S. for the record, r stopped by for dinner (beer battered catfish and au gratin potato'e's). t.

How do you say good bye?

I've had it.

Straight up fucking had it.

It's been going on for some time now, and I'm sure you've experienced it. Someone, usually someone you've wanted gone for a while finally decides to leave. They gather their shit, make their way to the door, and say farewell.

Except that they don't. They think it's cool, or cute, or cutting edge to toss out some foreign phrase, or some butchered one, at the end of the visit.

Chow.

Adios.

Sayonara.

It would be one thing if I lived a wildly exotic life, and hung out with international people, but these folks is all 'merican. I don't know why I finally got fed up with it, but It's really pissing me off lately.

I'm getting my revenge tho. It's taken a couple tries, but I've come up with my own good bye phrase.

Now when someone tosses some quasi-foreign phrase at me, I respond thusly:

• I put on the most vapid, brain-dead expression I can muster.


• I use my best screwing-in-the-lightbublb wave (courtesy of Miss America).


• I say "Buenos con queso", which near as I can figure (took German, not Spanish) means good with cheese.

See, I'm of the opinion that most things are better with cheese, even bad goodbyes.

So, there you have it. That's how I say goodbye. How do you do it?

Buenos con queso,

T.

Not much tonight

Today was my sis's bf's bd. They had a barbeque over at thier house, and once again, I've eaten way to fucking much.

Burger, 2 brats, potato salad, barbecue beans, and a huge slab of cake. I was stuffed before I even started on the cake (chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, and chocolate mousse filling, for those keeping score at home), to which my sister added 2 rather large scoops of chocolate chip ice cream.

I'm miserable as I post this. I still have laundry to do, and I'm already dreading work tomorrow.

Damn, when did I start bitching so much? Heh, I guess I always have, but now you all get to listen to it.

Well, good luck and happiness to all.

Later,

T.

Updated my template...

All you guys and gal's now have your very own link.

Well, those of you in my fave's list anyhow. Others will be added as warranted.

Fucked my whole Sunday off. Didn't do anything I should have. There's still time to do laundry, clean my room and all the other stuff I want to/should do, but let's be honest. It's almost 7 p.m. local, and none of that shit's getting done today.

That's the beauty of a 3 day weekend.

Now, a comment on the nature of blogging. I just got a call from my niece, and had to go outside and start the charcoal. If I hadn't said anything, though, the break would never have been noticed.

Hell, I could get up right now, go take a shower, run to the store...anything really, and come back and publish the post. You, gentle reader, would be aware of none of it. Not that you should be. Not that you even care.

But, I digress.

Here's my second Sunday post, my fave blogs, and a warning that I'm kinda bored with my page's look, and there will prolly be some changes in the future.

It's entirely possible that I'll post again.

Later,

T.

How about a nice Hawaiian punch?

This post is in honor of Murphy.

She is currently on a trip to visit her friend Mary, who has what we in the 'biz refer to as connections. Some friends of hers gave her, Mary that is, a gallon of alcohol. Now, before you shrug that off, it's 200 proof. That's pure alcohol. Hell, that's almost jet fuel. The following is true. Parts have been omitted, not because of selective memory, but because I was too liquored up to remember them.

---

We all have our High School drinking stories, I guess, so here's one of mine. It was a Friday and my best friend and I were at Stargames (the local arcade..this was the 80's people) trying to find something to do. It was difficult to find entertainment in Carson City, so something to do usually amounted to buying a case of beer and getting squishy.

As we're discussing who we can have buy for us (remember that?) a friend....Let's call him John... walks up. He asks us if we know anywhere we can go party. We start to talk about shoulder tapping, and he pulls out a fifth of Everclear.

For those of you not in the know, Everclear is grain alcohol. They've wimped it down to 151 proof, but during the era when this story took place, it was 195 proof. The scariest part is that if you were of age, the shit was legal.

195 proof. Again, for those of you that don't know, if you divide an alcohol's proof in half, you get the percentage of alcohol in the liquor. 195's pretty close to pure grain. Scary shit. The warning label on the bottle, and I'm paraphrasing here basically said "Mix this shit with something before you drink it, or you're going to fucking die."

So, we've got our alcohol for the night, now all we needed was a place to drink. Not hard to find, when you've got a 5th of the strongest otc booze in town. Of course, we found a place.

This is where things start to get hazy. I remember whose house it was, and I remember playing pool. Then John comes out of the kitchen with this gargantuan bowl of Hawaiian Punch. It was a struggle to find drinking implements for the 15-20 (?) people there. I had a white coffee cup, inside of which, attached to the bottom as a result of some cup manufacturer's sense of humor, a frog. No, not a real one, it was made of coffee cup material.

I remember looking around at all the people, and thinking it was a bust. I mean, with all these people, we'd never get drunk. So, I was on a mission. I had 3, maybe 4 cups, and then the bowl was empty. I go back to playing pool, now waiting to leave. Imagine my surprise when John comes out with another bowl.

Hazy now gives way to broken. I don't know how long we were there, nor do I remember how many cups I had from the second bowl of punch. I do, however, remember that on my out, I saw a glass full of punch. Your average, oh, I don't know, 12-14 ounce tumbler. With a glib, "We can't have that, now can we?" I picked it up and drained it.

Party over, we head back to the arcade. I remember being there, but not getting there. I saw lots of people. I don't remember that, either. They all did though. One thing I do remember is being out behind the arcade with a couple friends smoking a joint. Like I really needed to get high at that point. The next clear memory I have is when it's time to leave.

We're going to give John a ride home, so he jumps in the back seat of my friend's bug. I sit in the front and close the door. I opened it right back up, and expelled copious amounts of punch on the ground. My friend asks if I'm ok and all I can say is "just go home." We drop John off with no incident, and get back to G's house.

As he's unlocking the door, my gorge is rising back up. I push past him, and rush the bathroom. Doing my best to be quiet, I begin perhaps the worst 45 minutes of my life. Surely the worst at the time, and perhaps of all time. The expression 'dry heaves' is now one with which I am intimately familiar. Somewhere in the middle of it, I manage to knock the toilet seat down, waking G's mother.

Understandably concerned, she comes to the bathroom door. I manage to convince her I'm ok, and she leaves. I, however, continue with my newfound ab excersises. I manage to crawl down the hall, and into my sleeping bag.

Now, after an evening like that, you might expect that I'd be as intimate with the word 'hangover' as I am with dry heaves, but you'd be wrong.

The only ill effects from that night, other than everyone I know remembering just how fucked up I was, were a month of 'no fucking way I'm drinking', and an almost religious aversion to Hawaiian Punch. No shit. Even the smell made me sick for like 10 years.

So, that's my ode to Murph...I hope she's careful and doesn't barf up a lung.

Later,

T.

So....it's 1 o'clock in the morning, and my day has finally released me.

I'm much more relaxed than I was earlier. My days just seem to intricately complicate themselves without any help from me.

The highlights? I got pressed into service retrieving the materiel to repair our storage shed. Heh.... The funny part about that? D bought the wrong size 2 x 4's. After he went back and exchanged them, he found out he bought the wrong height siding.

He quit shortly after that.

Says he's going to fix it tomorrow. We'll see.

Heh, so worse for him than me, as I only went for the first trip.

R stopped by, and that turned into an event that spiraled out from a simple visit into a 3 hour event of such proportions, that I have not the words to describe.

Couple that with the beer, the lack of sleep, and the walk to the Lebensmittesgeschaft at like 8:00 a.m., and you begin to understand the day I had. I just finally got to take a deep breath.

I held it too long and almost passed out, but that's beside the point.

I'm really going to make that list....Prolly post tomorrow...kinda wrecked tonight.

Later,

T.