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.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, September 27, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
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:
Yeah, silly, I know, but I'm in a hurry this morning. I'm not going to be late today.
T.
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.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Monday, September 20, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
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.
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.
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, September 18, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, September 17, 2004
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
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 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:
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
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.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Monday, September 13, 2004
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.
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.
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.....
Back after the game to regale you all with the Monday = No Fun Day post.
Bcq,
T.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, September 11, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Well, now.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Nuts
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.
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.
Been trying since last night. Home for lunch, so not much now.
More later.
Buenos con queso,
T.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, September 06, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
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.
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Faagauah....The day I've had...
I don't even know where to start.
....calmblueocean....calmblueocean.....calmblueocean.......
Simpsons fans may understand.
I was so going to post like 3 or 4 times today. I should stop now, and post again in a couple...I'm going to.
Later,
T.
....calmblueocean....calmblueocean.....calmblueocean.......
Simpsons fans may understand.
I was so going to post like 3 or 4 times today. I should stop now, and post again in a couple...I'm going to.
Later,
T.
Good in the sack, good as a snack
So, somewhere around midnight last night, through a haze of alcohol, I found this show on the National Geographic channel. It was about spiders.
I had just missed one on snakes. In direct opposition to the Jim Stafford song, I do like spiders and snakes. So, they're showing spiders. There are some pretty freaky ones out there. It was a really good show, and I learned a good bit about them.
Inevitably, they got around to the black widow. I had always known that that the male was smaller, and from the look of it, the female's like 6-10 times his size. I also knew that the get killed after the act. They actually showed it, and it was cool. The male even kinda rolls over on his back, "in order to reproduce for the longet time possible" and exposing his underside to her fangs.
She then eats him, or rather to use the term they were bandying about last night 'sucks out his life juices' to nourish her and the eggs she's going to produce.
So, this post is dedicated to the male black widow spider:
Good in the sack, good as a snack.
This is the first post of the day, and I'm sure there will be more. Haven't had my coffee yet, but I can smell it brewing. I'll be back.
Later,
T.
I had just missed one on snakes. In direct opposition to the Jim Stafford song, I do like spiders and snakes. So, they're showing spiders. There are some pretty freaky ones out there. It was a really good show, and I learned a good bit about them.
Inevitably, they got around to the black widow. I had always known that that the male was smaller, and from the look of it, the female's like 6-10 times his size. I also knew that the get killed after the act. They actually showed it, and it was cool. The male even kinda rolls over on his back, "in order to reproduce for the longet time possible" and exposing his underside to her fangs.
She then eats him, or rather to use the term they were bandying about last night 'sucks out his life juices' to nourish her and the eggs she's going to produce.
So, this post is dedicated to the male black widow spider:
Good in the sack, good as a snack.
This is the first post of the day, and I'm sure there will be more. Haven't had my coffee yet, but I can smell it brewing. I'll be back.
Later,
T.
Friday, September 03, 2004
How in the hell....
There are now 23 blogs in my favorite blogs folder. How in the hell did that happen?
No wonder I never have any time for blogging/anything. I'm too busy trying to find out what everyone else is doing.
Friday morning, drinking coffee, and trying to psyche myself up for the day. Just make it through, I tell myself. 3 day weekends are the shit. 'Cept that on Tuesday, just like the average Monday, I'm sure I'll be asking "Where did my weekend go?"
That whole 'time flies when you're having fun' thing can kiss my ass.
I may make a list out of those blogs for my site. Some of you reading this are on it. Hell, if you're reading this, I can almost promise that you're on it.
Damn. Time's up.
Later,
T.
No wonder I never have any time for blogging/anything. I'm too busy trying to find out what everyone else is doing.
Friday morning, drinking coffee, and trying to psyche myself up for the day. Just make it through, I tell myself. 3 day weekends are the shit. 'Cept that on Tuesday, just like the average Monday, I'm sure I'll be asking "Where did my weekend go?"
That whole 'time flies when you're having fun' thing can kiss my ass.
I may make a list out of those blogs for my site. Some of you reading this are on it. Hell, if you're reading this, I can almost promise that you're on it.
Damn. Time's up.
Later,
T.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Domino's pizza de....livvvv....ers
What a world, what a day...What an age we live in. You pick up a hand held radio transmitter, punch some buttons, and half an hour later, piping hot pizza arrives at your door. What more could anyone ask for. Well, I suppose it there was a number you could call to have money delivered, that would be better. Until then, however, I'm gonna love my pizza.
I was asked a question in my comments today that, had I answered in comments, would have been sort of an answer lite. A quasi-answer. So, for Murphy here's a little rant on what it's like in Carson City.
The roaring metropolis of Carson City, Nevada (population 52,457ish) is situated right near the 'bend' in the state. We're about 30 miles from Reno, and about the same from Lake Tahoe. Snuggled right up at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains, we boast....well...not much.
Our climate is very dry. It's a mountain desert. We bake all summer (had a few days over 100 this summer many in the 90's), and freeze all winter. The low I saw last winter (yes, I was walking then, too) was a balmy 13. That's Farenheit people, not Celcius. That was a brisk morning, let me tell you.
I moved here when I was 11, and moved out for the first time when I was 18. At that age, this was one of the most boring places I'd ever been. There was virtually nothing to do here. Well, we did have 3 movie theaters, and we still do have like every fast food restaurant known to man.
In fact, I'd go so far as to say that I think Carson City may have the highest per capita fast food saturation of any city in the U. S. I'll try and remember them all, but I'm sure I'll miss one or two.
We have:
3 Mc Donalds...down from 4 when Wal-Mart moved over the county line.
2 Jack in the Boxes.
2 Wendy's.
2 Taco Bells. Down from a record 3.
2 Burger Kings.
1 Kentucky Fried Chicken. That KFC shit pisses me off. Fried, it's fried.
1 Arbys.
1 Dairy Queen.
1 Der Weinerschnitzel.
1 Carl's Junior.
1 A&W. We had 3 at one point.
1 Jimboy's Tacos.
Oh..and we're getting an In and Out Burger. YAY us!!!
I think that's it. That's not even mentioning the sub shops or pizza joints.
So, as a kid growing up here there was usually only 3 things to do. Movies, fast food, and party. Usually, we did all 3. Now, as an adult, I don't find Carson City to be as bad. Heh. Fridays are even quite fun now. I get to cash my check in the casino, play for a while on their free money, and drink free beer.
It's a pretty good start to the weekend. There's still not too much to do, though. They did put a Skatepark in, and I nearly soiled myself. I couldn't believe they loosened the straight laces enough to do that.
Whew. Well, that's a start. I didn't realize I had so much to say about CC. I guess I'll have to finish in another post.
Later,
T.
I was asked a question in my comments today that, had I answered in comments, would have been sort of an answer lite. A quasi-answer. So, for Murphy here's a little rant on what it's like in Carson City.
The roaring metropolis of Carson City, Nevada (population 52,457ish) is situated right near the 'bend' in the state. We're about 30 miles from Reno, and about the same from Lake Tahoe. Snuggled right up at the base of the Sierra Nevada mountains, we boast....well...not much.
Our climate is very dry. It's a mountain desert. We bake all summer (had a few days over 100 this summer many in the 90's), and freeze all winter. The low I saw last winter (yes, I was walking then, too) was a balmy 13. That's Farenheit people, not Celcius. That was a brisk morning, let me tell you.
I moved here when I was 11, and moved out for the first time when I was 18. At that age, this was one of the most boring places I'd ever been. There was virtually nothing to do here. Well, we did have 3 movie theaters, and we still do have like every fast food restaurant known to man.
In fact, I'd go so far as to say that I think Carson City may have the highest per capita fast food saturation of any city in the U. S. I'll try and remember them all, but I'm sure I'll miss one or two.
We have:
3 Mc Donalds...down from 4 when Wal-Mart moved over the county line.
2 Jack in the Boxes.
2 Wendy's.
2 Taco Bells. Down from a record 3.
2 Burger Kings.
1 Kentucky Fried Chicken. That KFC shit pisses me off. Fried, it's fried.
1 Arbys.
1 Dairy Queen.
1 Der Weinerschnitzel.
1 Carl's Junior.
1 A&W. We had 3 at one point.
1 Jimboy's Tacos.
Oh..and we're getting an In and Out Burger. YAY us!!!
I think that's it. That's not even mentioning the sub shops or pizza joints.
So, as a kid growing up here there was usually only 3 things to do. Movies, fast food, and party. Usually, we did all 3. Now, as an adult, I don't find Carson City to be as bad. Heh. Fridays are even quite fun now. I get to cash my check in the casino, play for a while on their free money, and drink free beer.
It's a pretty good start to the weekend. There's still not too much to do, though. They did put a Skatepark in, and I nearly soiled myself. I couldn't believe they loosened the straight laces enough to do that.
Whew. Well, that's a start. I didn't realize I had so much to say about CC. I guess I'll have to finish in another post.
Later,
T.
This space intentionally left blank
So, another Thursday has arrived. As always, I face it with some measure of trepedation. I'm sending out uber props to Sprizee. She is my new bestest, bestest friend for ever and ever.
She has graced me with a gmail accout. Woo Hoo....I'm back on the bleeding edge of hip. That line was for you, Kbear. I'm in the process of making S a certificate to the effect.
I may be seing R on Sunday. There's a barbeque planned, and she's going to fix the storage shed for us. Did I mention she works construction? I think I did. I wish I could get my fucking computer to recognize my fucking digital camera. I'll snap a couple shots, if I can, and see if I can get them uploaded. Failing that, I may break out one of my 35's.
That's a hassle tho. Have to process and then scan. Not that I don't have access to a scanner. Hell, there's a Cannon 5080C color scanner on my desk. It was a cheap one. Only cost about 10 grand. Wish I had one on my desk at home.....
On my second cuppa, which you can take to mean that I got up on time today. I spent my morning productively too. I made coffee, read and commented on other blogs, and now I'm giving you all some more useless knowledge about me and my day. I'm already clean, for those wondering about a shower. I took one last night.
My hair's a mess, of course, and will prolly spend the day looking like a horse's ass. Or, at least a pony's ass. Oh, btw, if any of you want it, the new addy's Kvenya@gmail.com. For those of you wondering, Kvenya is the name of my main character in EverQuest.
Sad, I know. One of these days, I'll prolly subject you to a rambling diatribe on EQ. It really is my favorite video game of all time, and I remember putting quarters in a Pong machine, for fuck's sake.
Well, it's a quarter after, and time to don the armor.
Later,
T.
She has graced me with a gmail accout. Woo Hoo....I'm back on the bleeding edge of hip. That line was for you, Kbear. I'm in the process of making S a certificate to the effect.
I may be seing R on Sunday. There's a barbeque planned, and she's going to fix the storage shed for us. Did I mention she works construction? I think I did. I wish I could get my fucking computer to recognize my fucking digital camera. I'll snap a couple shots, if I can, and see if I can get them uploaded. Failing that, I may break out one of my 35's.
That's a hassle tho. Have to process and then scan. Not that I don't have access to a scanner. Hell, there's a Cannon 5080C color scanner on my desk. It was a cheap one. Only cost about 10 grand. Wish I had one on my desk at home.....
On my second cuppa, which you can take to mean that I got up on time today. I spent my morning productively too. I made coffee, read and commented on other blogs, and now I'm giving you all some more useless knowledge about me and my day. I'm already clean, for those wondering about a shower. I took one last night.
My hair's a mess, of course, and will prolly spend the day looking like a horse's ass. Or, at least a pony's ass. Oh, btw, if any of you want it, the new addy's Kvenya@gmail.com. For those of you wondering, Kvenya is the name of my main character in EverQuest.
Sad, I know. One of these days, I'll prolly subject you to a rambling diatribe on EQ. It really is my favorite video game of all time, and I remember putting quarters in a Pong machine, for fuck's sake.
Well, it's a quarter after, and time to don the armor.
Later,
T.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
What's hot, black, and everywhere?
Author's note: This would have been posted MUCH earlier, but R stopped by. No, Bear, nothing happened. Well, except for, along with the hug, I also got a kiss goodbye.
Coffee. Today's post will be about coffee, courtesy of Saucy Suse.
I came to coffee late in life. It's a tragedy, I must admit. Nearly, but not quite on par with the Blue Cheese Dressing story....Available sometime in the future.
No matter the question, the answer for me was never coffee. Growing up, the only time I can remember drinking coffee is on trips. We'd be on our way camping/fishing/hunting, and we'd inevitably stop in some 24 hour greasy spoon in some fly speck of a town, and get something to eat or drink.
Now, as I've never really been a fan of hot chocolate (i've gotten better), I'd always order coffee, and LOAD it up with cream and sugar. Even then, it was all I could do to choke the vile mess down.
And, so it went.
When I was 23, three things happened, almost silmultaneously, that changed my life forever. They are, in order:
I'll now tackle these individually.
School was fun, but, being not independantly wealthy, I had to get a job. I worked swing shift (3-11 pm) at the 7-ELEVEn (look at a sign sometime). It was a job, and fit almost perfectly with my school schedule. I have many horror stories, and, have no fear, you shall hear the best of them. The title of my blog even relates to those days. Now, taking 12 units a semester, and working 40 hours a week left me a bit tired, to say the least.
There are many things I could say about the house in MB, but the only really signicant (to this post, anyhow) one is this. My roomate R had a Braun coffee/cappuchino machine. There was always a pot of coffee on. In addition, at least once, and sometimes 2 or more times a day, I was subjected to the "You want a cappuchino?" question. This becomes eaiser to understand if you realize that it made 2 at a time.... So, I was now drinking coffee/caps, but was still s&c'ing the hell out of them.
Enter Tammy. We had first year German together, and ended up being 'partners.' In this class, the teacher would give you situations, and you would have to figure out,-in German, of course-, how to have the conversation. I can't tell you how many of our dialogues were worked out at Denny's at like....midnight+. I happened to notice that she drank her coffee black, so I decided to give it a try.
The upshot? In the space of about 3 months, I went from an avowed coffee avoider, to drinking the house caps naked. And I don't mean sans clothes, but sugarless. Now, I do quad or more caps...still without the benefit of sweeteners or flavors.
I now subscribe to the "If you wanted a cup of cream and sugar, why'd you order coffee?" mentality.
Guess that's it for now. Look for the real/fake/what it's all about post soon. I'm about 4 beers over the line atm, and I'm going to sign off.
Later,
T.
Coffee. Today's post will be about coffee, courtesy of Saucy Suse.
I came to coffee late in life. It's a tragedy, I must admit. Nearly, but not quite on par with the Blue Cheese Dressing story....Available sometime in the future.
No matter the question, the answer for me was never coffee. Growing up, the only time I can remember drinking coffee is on trips. We'd be on our way camping/fishing/hunting, and we'd inevitably stop in some 24 hour greasy spoon in some fly speck of a town, and get something to eat or drink.
Now, as I've never really been a fan of hot chocolate (i've gotten better), I'd always order coffee, and LOAD it up with cream and sugar. Even then, it was all I could do to choke the vile mess down.
And, so it went.
When I was 23, three things happened, almost silmultaneously, that changed my life forever. They are, in order:
- I went back to school. College, for those of you doubting a 23 year old High School student.
- I moved into a house in Morro Bay, California, with the coffee joanzes of the Universe.
- I started hanging out with my (still) best friend Tammy. Note, I've used her whole name. She deserves no less.
I'll now tackle these individually.
School was fun, but, being not independantly wealthy, I had to get a job. I worked swing shift (3-11 pm) at the 7-ELEVEn (look at a sign sometime). It was a job, and fit almost perfectly with my school schedule. I have many horror stories, and, have no fear, you shall hear the best of them. The title of my blog even relates to those days. Now, taking 12 units a semester, and working 40 hours a week left me a bit tired, to say the least.
There are many things I could say about the house in MB, but the only really signicant (to this post, anyhow) one is this. My roomate R had a Braun coffee/cappuchino machine. There was always a pot of coffee on. In addition, at least once, and sometimes 2 or more times a day, I was subjected to the "You want a cappuchino?" question. This becomes eaiser to understand if you realize that it made 2 at a time.... So, I was now drinking coffee/caps, but was still s&c'ing the hell out of them.
Enter Tammy. We had first year German together, and ended up being 'partners.' In this class, the teacher would give you situations, and you would have to figure out,-in German, of course-, how to have the conversation. I can't tell you how many of our dialogues were worked out at Denny's at like....midnight+. I happened to notice that she drank her coffee black, so I decided to give it a try.
The upshot? In the space of about 3 months, I went from an avowed coffee avoider, to drinking the house caps naked. And I don't mean sans clothes, but sugarless. Now, I do quad or more caps...still without the benefit of sweeteners or flavors.
I now subscribe to the "If you wanted a cup of cream and sugar, why'd you order coffee?" mentality.
Guess that's it for now. Look for the real/fake/what it's all about post soon. I'm about 4 beers over the line atm, and I'm going to sign off.
Later,
T.
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