Train harder...

So while I was way laid at the lube-shoppe, I was able to catch up on a couple of those drecky Male Health magazines I covet so much. I read about some new Ab exercises I should probably try...(The Pilates Plank looks divine. Plank, btw) Some s#it on how to appropriately and effectively ask your sexual partner if they'd be willing to engage in some slap and tickle/role-playing (Hilarious..."Honey...I want you to wear the bunny suit again") Healthy recipes (Tell me this doesn't sound yummy- Broiled Salmon with a glaze made of mixed BBQ/Blueberry Preserves. It sounds weird? But Good.)

The last bit about diet made me happy. Apparently I'm currently eating food that is good for fighting cancer and keeping my internal organs happy. ( As I type this, I'm munching on fresh spinach and babycarrots. Granted, I have a little Fat Free Ranch dressing to dip it innn...whoooops. Got a blob of it right on the backspace key.) I get enough water, get my 2 alcoholic beverages and 2 cups of coffee a day...It made me feel better that I'm at least ingesting the right foods for me. It also made me realize that it has been far too long since my last physical. Crap. Nothing like a good old fashioned slap and tickle from a Doctor's cold hands.

Another thing is I've grown hyper sensitive to the vittles I eat now too. That 1.5 month period where I ate (precious little) really cleared me out, and I've slowly started to figure out what works for fuel and what really...ahem..."gums me up" as it were. (Cheese and heavy starches. Great.) The one thing I always want to be cautious of is compulsive eating. Snacksnacksnacksnacksnack...if it's on the table, I'll probably be shoving fistfuls in my mouth without even realizing how much I've eaten.

As for training/working out? I'm at the point where if I miss a run/workout/'fu session I don't really feel centered or focused.

I think it's a good place for me physically. I just wish that I wasn't so sore some days.

At least I'm not training like these guys. Holy Shi-Ballz. Click on the link that says "Spartan Training"

Yeah...train like a Spartan.

b/c I'm really tired...and just that random.

I'm going full-time shopper status at Cub, unless some really lame promotion drags me to Roundy-bow. The Quarry 'bow is way too frat/just-been-fucked Barbie pajama wearing kid heavy...the lines are always long, and the deciding factor was that they have a smaller selection of my favorite brand of Progresso. (Cub carries both Southwestern Style Chicken AND Manhatten Clam Chowder. Good-Times)

Be careful where you decide to...um, adjust. I just stood up for a stretch and an adjustment when one of the the ladies in Reinsurance "caught" me. Greeeeeat. Along with my penchant for "trolling" (walking around with my fly down) I'm liable to get fired. Baby P is definitely in a strangely cocktastic frame of mind. Nice...Image...

The next baby P gathering will be a Pajama Jammy Jam. We'll all wear our PJ's, throw a ton of blankets and pillows on the floor of the TV Room, eat popcorn, and watch crappy movies.

I'll be banned from the Jammy Jam due to the fly of my PJ's invariably being open. Ish to Pokey No.

I'm glad my satin PJ bottoms have no "fly hole". I'll just need to wear thick socks.

I think the type of movie that will be watched at this jam, will have to be something horrible, drecky, and 80's...like Raw Deal

I'm really jonesin' for a Spinach salad with crumbled feta and Raspberry Vinaigrette. Yes...I can get gayer.

I'm want a spa day. We're talking full body massage by a huge Norsk woman named Inga Slutsgaboda where she tosses me like a ragdoll (And giving me the occasional glancing touch to my HEY-OH!) we're talking sauna, jacuzzi...I've been sore for far too long. I need some of this bad blood to be released.

I'm finally getting my cable/internet service resumed. The only opening? Between 5-8pm this Friday. Fah-King A.

They told me I need to pay a $56 set up fee, which means the grand total to get this bitch fixed up is now at $350. Collateral.

I'd rather use that $ to fix my car. If anyone knows a mechanic that can fix a leaky head gasket for cheap, lemme know.

I'd rather use that $ to buy food or new clothes.

I'm really fascinated with the word "Bitch" right now. (No deeper meaning, folks) Especially with making inanimate objects or structures my bitches. Funnier if you say it with sort of a "Triumph the insult dog" voice. Ex: "Jyesssss, I'm going to mek ze Bad Waitress my biiiiiiiitch. Jyesssssss" or "Ahhhh, Chevy Impala??? Jou are my biiiiitch"



I want Spring to be here. Spring needs to be my biiiiiiiitch.

I'm so nuts, you could call me "Planter's"

After sleeping in late (for me anyway) MeeP's and I juggled around our ritual Sunday bkfst idea's- Pannekoeken?* (Can you actually say that without yelling it out loud? "PAAAAANNNNNEKOEKEN!") Too far. Victor's 1959 seemed like a hot ticket, but it was feck all crowded. So, we chugged over to Eat Street and had Bad Waitress to satiate our palate. We also bullet pointed some other restaurant for future excursions. About the "B.A"? If you haven't been, go. (In reference to the self-service style of breakfasting- "I would have stood around for a half an hour before figuring this shit out.")

It's at this point I should mention that I was starting to feel kinda pucky. Sniffly. Scratchy Throaty. Not. Too. Good.

After we split, I hauled a$$ out to BeeP's to help Ma und Pa with some moving/'eavy lifting. I'd like to paint you all the picture of an injury:

Me: "I shoulda brought my weight belt"
Da: "Gawdemmit P! You're a young man! You'll be fine!"
Me: "Um, dad? This thing is fuck-all heavy, bordering on immobile"
Mom: "Language!"
Da: "You'll be fine, grab the heavier side for me will ya?"

So what happened was I was heaving this shelf unit on top of a cabinet when I just felt a "ping" around my lower back-al area. Great. Dad's praise of "Oh, you saved me from being laid up for a week with a back injury" was enough to sustain me for a little while, but dammit. I didn't like that "ping!"

Mom and I bickered after I stumbled across some HS Ex-GF pictures. I started tossing 'em and she dove right into the trash with protests of "You look so nice in this picture" or "You too look so cute here!". Meh, not so much. I promised to bring them home with me to put in storage, but to tell the truth it was so I could toss 'em in the relative peace and quiet of NE Mipples.
At least I was able to get the pictures out of her hands b4 she stumbled across the nude ex gf photo. That woulda taken some 'splaining.

When I got home I just...faded. It was dark-ish out, I was sore, sickish, and in no real mood to work out or go to the Junction...so I passed out. Only to be awoke by my phone ringing with RSvP saying he had a student that was potentially going to be there. I relented, and wented. And it turned out to be a good time. (Noteworthy inside joke- Baby P is very good about packing his gear after class. Love, Retardhead. Retardhead, btw.)

Now, after the Junction I could have just showered and went to bed, but nooooooo I went for my run. And do you know what? I felt like a million bucks after that, and the sickness started to fade...(Only to be replaced by exhaustion. Yay sleep deprivation) I got a little gussied to pop over to El Hombre's B-day at the Henn History Museum. Incidentally, if you get the chance you all should check out their Burlesque exhibit that's going on right now. Super cool.

And today? I'm so boo-too mega tired I just wanna pass out and sleep for a week. The weekend of March 10-12th cannot get here fast enough. I'm in need of some downtime**...and some Thrillz...


*Pannekoeken, btw.
** Considering I'm not really gigging right now, I kinda feel like I have no excuse for my exhaustion.

Gawdammet!

I just said that out loud to see how it sounded. For the # of times I just said it, I figure I'll be going to hell in 5,4,3,2...

Do you ever have a weekend go by so fast that you are literally left "WTF! Wasn't I just in this cube 5 minutes ago?" Probably the remnants of having a short week last week.

News and Nubbins- I got precious little done 'round the P-ranch in terms of projects. (That soiree' last weekend laid me out in terms of projecting, so I figured I was entitled to a little downtime. ) I was waylaid by my 'rentals when I called home to verify a time they needed me to help with projects (They had some pipe burstage in their old home. Not good times) After, ohhhhh 1.5 hours on the horn with daddy-o, I ended up realizing that it was already 2:30.

Now, B4 I bore pants off of everyone, let's just say that I ended up spending (total) 3.5 hours on the telephone. I haven't spent that much consecutive time on the phone since junior high. Woof. Good conversations, however, are priceless.

Unfortunately I had little time to do anything else. No run, no weights. Days that I don't get a workout in I just feel...soft. Unfocused. It was so beautiful outside and I wanted a little brain clearing Zen time. I decided on a simple project to feel like I eked some productivity out of the day, so I chose putting my bed on the riser's RSvP gave me. What happened was I ended up royally jacking my finger when the caster pinched it to the riser. I made a couple of swears after that. And the shite part? I've got to drop the bed again.

It became very loud. And slidey. Not good for discrete naughty naughty big kid time when the roomie is home.

I was able to get over to Redwright's for frassin', movies, and wine which is always a hot ticket. (And seriously, we don't get to have movie nights nearly enough) "Camp" was watched and I'm starting to feel like I'm the only guy in the world that thinks the movie is cute. Government cheesey, yes...but a little cute.

Afterwards I slept 8 feet in the air. My bed is so high.

That sucks...

I'll keep my Don Knotts homage brief. Some quick memories anyway-

Staying up late to watch the "Andy Griffith Show". Every time I've ever locked myself out of my car I feel like Barney Feckin' Fife.

I considered naming my 1st cat "Mr. Furley"

Redeemer Church would have "Movie Saturdays" in the afternoons. They'd project reel-to-reels of "easy to digest" movies (read: Disney and Kiddie Fair). One of them was "The Apple Dumpling Gang". I didn't get it. I liked him better in roles like "The Incredible Mr. Limpet" (Which channel 9 would show just about every month.) Knotts turns from Man to Fish that can bellow loudly. Genius.

My bosses boss has a "Fife Print" on his cube.

RIP Don. We need more googly eyed physical comic actors. The world would be a better place that way.


And to the Old Man, Darren McGavin-

Reminded me of my dad whenever I'd watch "Christmas Story". (My mom still says "Fudge" in lieu of the actual swear word) Whenever I see redwright's dogs with their big floppy ears I wanna yell "GAAAWDAMN BUMPESES!!!"

I watched Kolchak with my mom when I was a kid. It freaked the crap out of me, but then again my mom liked Dark Shadows so what are you gonna do?

He was in "Raw Deal". Pure 80's fluff. Pure.

He's in one of my favorite X-files episodes.

Friday Foon/Loove

So I feckin' tried getting my oil changed yesterday since I'm, ohhh, 50 miles over...and they run out and say "Sorry, there'll be a 25 minute wait." Jiffy my ass. Then they proceed to back in the big oil refill rig right behind me, trapping me in. Um, you can't force me to stay, Mr. Jiffy's!!! I will FREE myself


I finally got to see Closer last night. (Pretty good all told). The set and lights were pretty, the acting was fine, I guess my mood wasn't one where I wanted to watch 4 characters with absolutely no redeeming qualities. (I said to ES and Jabas "ES, you were despicable, and Jabas was Pathetic") I appreciated the acting, it's just that the characters were so...loathesome. Probably not a show I could have watched 2 months ago, but still pretty good. Check it out if ye ken. I plan on writing a follow up play called "Farther"

After, Jabas and I hit Preston's w/some of the 12th nacht casties and dished about the show. His schedule is freeing up now, so he and his S.O. have committed to coming over for dinner one of these nights in the near future. We jibbered about "taking breaks" and "needing a break" from the stage, and all agreed that you can't-or rather shouldn't feel compelled to audition for everything that comes your way just for the sake of staying in shows. (Auditioning for practice/experience...fine. But I'm saying don't comb the paper/'net finding who's doing what where and audition if you don't feel strongly about the piece.) I got home late...again...


And I was thinking about this: How do you know when it transcends "like" and goes into "love"?

I don't really think about it much. For me, it's sort of "when you know, you know." I know that (as I get more mileage) I appreciate the amount of unconditional love I have inside. It's comforting to see it out there. To know that I have the capacity to project that, and envelop my family and friends with all the warmth and generosity of spirit I can give them. To know that my love is forgiving, understanding, strong, and unconditional. That's pretty powerful. And again, that's why it's comforting to have. It feels wonderful. And I'm grateful that I have the ability to feel comfortable enough to say it to others.

Oh. When it's "love-love"? Like, falling in love with another person?

It's when you lose the capacity to have a choice in the matter, and when you know that there can be no one else for you, but them...

It's like I'm a shell...a transparent shell of who I am. The simmering "like" goes to up to a boiling point where you find that you can't keep those words inside. There are two times I remember saying it...like, "for real" where that was the case. (It actually sort of came out like "Gahhhhh"and It felt like I had a pained expression on my face. )

You just look at the person and know that "I don't think I can spend another second right here in front of you without saying it. There is no real way I can articulate...this, but I love you..." It's cathartic, lugubrious, and the boiling cools immediately to a comfortable "ahhhhhh..."

It's usually followed up with a kiss (es)

You know what I'm saying? You can't stop thinking about them. Every day, they comprise some part of your waking, and sometimes sleeping thoughts. Doi. Why do you think, my readers, that everyday you are somewhere in my thoughts. Every-Day. And it's b/c of love.


Gahh. I've had quite some time to dwell on the subject. Maybe seeing such a dark play last night got the gears spinning in my brain on the fragile and finite subject of love. Hearing too many familiar words spoken between two people who are supposed to be in love.

Or I spend too much time on the C-board. Maybe it's bc I have seen/spoken with so many loving people lately. And discovered other wonderful and loving people who are just, sort of...out there.

Or is it a reminder of something else entirely?

(sighs) Away with ye, ye daft poncey poet P.

I like me some curvy wimmins....

Well, that was...hmmmm, wait, no...hmmmmmm.

I'll just put it out there for y'alls to digest.

So Wednesday I justified missing 'fu by the bacchanalian amount of pain I was in. I tried going for a run and giving myself a good stretch at home as a test. When the hammies screamed at me through 800 mg of Ibuprofen, I relented. And napped.

I attended the C-board gathering at G-ma's bar later that evening. I missed my roommie by mere minutes. It was fine...Meaning, it wasn't "hey wow, this is awesome" it was just...nice.

Thursday (I heart half-day's) started the day off with some slight drama-mama which is gonna prompt another necessary and immediate house-y project. (Honestly, just...fuckin' A) I scrambled over to TRP, picked up dorajar, and headed to downtown Mipples to meet RSVP for loonch. After a slight phone malfunction where I couldn't get in touch with him (I accidentally had an extra digit on his work # in my auto dialer. Shup...I know I need a new fecking phone, all right? The "0" is sticking now. The "0"!!!) we finally met outside our original choice of loonchin' and opted for the Italian eatery next door. (Hmmmm, burgers? Or the Thursday special: Spinach Lasagna? Not, a difficult choice)

We ended up getting served a piece of Spinach Lasagna that was roughly the same size and density of a retaining wall block...and even though we all had a sharefest, I found myself once again drunk on carbs. Yum-Me. Thanks to RSVP for being so kind as to pick up the tab...and for being dressed so fetchingly. In his pimp shoes.

(Sidebar: Sharing food at restaurants...yea or nay? In certain company/people...yea. Personally? I think it's awesome, especially if you're torn as to what to eat. For we three, It was a toss up between the chicky caesar and the lasagna. )

The lunch convo was great (which is where the title of today's story comes in.) and after RSVP had to skedaddle back to work, Dora and I hit 8th street for BM's and more BS. By the 2nd BM, we were wiped and in desperate need of 'ffeine so we headed on over to the Wilde Roast for some exquisite mocha-y goodness. (Oh my, Orley. There I was again, in a gaaaaay gaygaygaygay coffee house. "P, I'm meeting the Porkchops at Wyrd. Did you want to join us?" totally ran through my head) and then outside for some fresh air and to check out the local antique store...

Which was so-fucking-expensive. Re-Dick. They should change the name to "We don't sell anything for under $175 Antiques..." Okay. That was a slight exaggeration, but you get the jist...$65 for a frickin' hipster hat? And $75 for a hot print of a hot curvy Spanish mamma? Fuck to the no...At least we didn't break anything.

A nap was decided on b4 hitting "Closer" which proved to be our downfall...we ended up sleeping through curtain. And then there was guilt.

We figured we'd end our perfect day with some burrito bols and a flick- Dora wanted to get her car back so we hit TRP again and I parked in the "Shh Shh You'll get towed" Parking lot.

I figured..."Hey...5 minutes for a bol? They aren't that fast..."

Famous-Last-Words.

I didn't get my ass towed or slapped with a boot, but they put that big ol' motherfuckin' sticker on my window. The hall monitor caught me. And I was pissed.

I'm gonna find her car and slap fucking scratch and sniff stickers all over that mo-fo. And crappy scratch and sniff's too...you know? The ones you HATED getting 'cause they smelled like a$$? Like, caramel corn or..or...chocolate sprinkle. I hated getting those on my tests. Couldn'ta given me, like, Bubble gum or Peppermint?

Anyway, that's what she'll get. It was a very nice day off. And I got to bed on time. Yay.

Gobbledy Gobble

Once 'gain I was up waaaaay too late to support having an early am day job.

I went straight from work to a video game gathering at the J and J music factory. (Yes, I'm nerdy) Over wine and cheese, J and J, M and M, & B and C... Okay, we need to change one of their names to keep with the alliteration theme...ANYway, I made a few discoveries:

I'm not a cheese guy, but I mowed the pepperjack. My payment for this debauchery was wickedly vivid dreams, and a sweaty night trying to process it. (The same happened with the dip) This is what I get for skipping supper and going straight into the wine.

I suck at Mario Party, and at this video Guitar game. Were I to tie my hands behind my back and press the controller with my face, I'd have played better.

Jabas has mad skillz on the guitar. Watching him rock out was hilarious.

I'm a lightweight, all over again.

J and J have a kick ass apartment.




So yeah. Nothing glowing to report. I'm still in mad-pain today after a work-out filled weekend. I don't know if it was wire fu combined with the Junction, my 4 miler, or the actual weight lifting I did...(I know. I haven't been dilligent on the weights in a few months) but I'm a sore little piggy. And going home and hiding under my big floofy comforter sounds top notch.

Except I'm going to go home and run, then hit the dojo, then go to Grandma's for the CB gathering...

Baby P: Slut Glut for Punishment


There should be more fun stuff to post after tomorrow. I'm taking a half day so I can have lunch with the Ro and Mo Roadshow, and frolic and laugh the afternoon away.

Before plunging into a dark sex Comedy like this. Please go see his show. Please spend $ on tickets. Support local theatre

Bite Sized Weekend...

Where our anti-hero muses on Shakespeare, Silence of the Lambs, Chess club, and Deadly…Deadly cold.


3 parter…almost 4. Scroll through the blog for a play by play.

Saw "Twelfth Night" on Friday at TRP. (My super secret date was bootoo tired, so I was relegated to "3rd leg status" with Portana and Tech.) It was a good show. I really dug the staging and lights. The cast did a terrific job and the papers were right: There were great performances all around but CJ was pretty fucking incredible.

The audience…was dead. The cold weather must’ve kept the energetic peeps at bay.
We stopped over at Preston’s afterwards for a pint and some kibbitzing. I was introduced to Dorajar’s ‘rentals and was informed later that I look "Grecian"…(I always thought of myself as "Greasy", but that’s because I eat a pint of bacon fat before going anywhere. It’s good for the hair) Kaiser painted a fetching portrait of Hannibal Lechter in his face gator (Hardcore dude. That was hard-fucking-core) Oh, why hardcore? Only b/c it was 35 below fecking WINDCHILLS! And, upon entering my car, exiting the ramp, and driving from point a to point b…I’m faaaaairly certain I my fingies were frost bitten. (At least, that’s what they looked like. Dark blue tips. No feeling. I had to run the f##kers under lukewarm water until they at least started to tingle.) Messed up.

I’m also pretty sure that I had mild hypothermia. Read your ‘Scout manuals to learn about the cure for that cold weather ailment. It’s the best.

Notable soundbite:
"Sooooo, where are you going after this?"
"We're going to play chess"
"Can a third join you?"
"Mmmmmm, chess is a two-player game"

The, Saturday.

Where Captain Hostbacon thinks Scandinavian in the morning, gets frantic, warms his house, and doesn’t sleep a wink.

Dorajar and I decided to hit Ikea in the am for a two-fold purpose. (1) To see what the fuss is about the 99 cent breakfast and (2)…I’m not really sure why. OH! Rug and Textile sale..riiiiight. We moved around a little bit, 86ing the thought of BKFST (I’m sorry: Eggs and sausage shavings? Gnasty) and then proceeded to wander. And what a wander it was. Outside of additional veeno glasses and a tasteful potpourri table display (IM-pulse. Settle DOWN baby P) there was NOTHING that floated my boat. Except maybe a heart shaped pillow with arms. No. That was just creepy. Like the creepy streamlined show-room child in the kids bedroom. Ish. (Other notables: There was a lil’ Porkchop who was…screaming. No, I take that back. Sccrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaamming. And it echoed. And carried. Parents: I understand children can have fits. Ikea’s acoustics are just not in your favor. The mom would have been better off carrying a megaphone. Loud.)

The rest of the day (where did it go?) was relegated to cleaning/projecting/putting the ‘dillo to work. And hitting the LQ/’Bow for some last minute noshies. The only things I didn’t get to do was nap/karate/go for a run. But, seeing as it was still a gazillion degree’s below the jogski would have been lethal. And I barely had enough time to get the vegetarian chili crock-in’.

The salmon seemed to go well, as did the fucking cheese. (P’s dad: "P, don’t put out that much cheese…that’s too much, no one'll eat that much") Embarrassing stories were told. ("So tell me Mrs. P about when Mikey was digging through the Playboys") Friends were made. (I fecking KNEW that ‘Tex's bohemian 75 year old cousin and my mom would get along. ) A poor Jet Lagged MD hooked me up with a phat Tea Set (Thanks gorgeous.) Brisket was demolished. (Redwright, Mom still wants a recipe) Home brew was imbibed (Hooooo, Tech has a super secret beer boyfriend in RSVP now) And there was a super cute picture of Dorajar and FeeJ curled up on the chair like cats.


All told, I think that for an intimate gathering of family and close friends it went rather well. I was mostly worried about Tex, knowing that he’s never been involved in the process of having any more than 1-2 people over and in the same room at once. (I wanted to be respectful to the new roomie)

He told me the next day that he had a wonderful time. Attaboy.

It’ll be a nice test for cast and house parties later. ("Thoreau" is opening in a couple of weeks. That’s a pretty small cast to have over. It’ll be nicer when the weather gets warm and people can start convening outside)

At least my floor didn’t cave in. That was a legitmate concern. And, you know…having a working bathroom door was pretty important too.

Sunday, head boots...

We find our boychick and sidekick breaking fast with a girl who has a boys name, mowing through MOA, musing on Headshots, and bringing the funny.

In the a.m. we met the ‘Dino and Carlton for a pre-arranged BKFST at the Sunny Side Up café’. ( I am enjoying the hell outta all this Sunday breakfasting) There was enjoyable banter held, laughing commentary at the voice of a "Moviefone" server (Yeah, he sounded just like him) and we learned that ‘Dino Hearts Pterodactyls. Rilly. Baby P...once again...had eggs.

Dora and I then skidaddled over to Bloomie, where we were to meet Portana and Tech for a day of roaming. (And to introduce Tech to the dreaded MOA). B4 they arrived, Mopes and I commented on the denizens of the mall and watched as not one, but two teens came out of the bathroom eating their Blizzards. (They image alone of someone on the terlet having DQ treat was just…too much ) Portana’s gorgeous figure was commented on as we silently stalked them "Ninja Style" through The Camp formerly known as Shoot-me. We watched children threatened with trade-in at Macy’s as punishment, we checked out comical underpants at HM, enjoyed comfy chairs, felt up a really great rack untillllll: exhaustion set in. (State Fair style tired)

I want to take a Mo’ to congratulate Tech on his new job. They’ll be moving to the great White Nort’ in March… And my wonderful circle of friends grows.

I got home with enough time to take a 20 minute power nap before sprinting over to the Junction. Good fights were had, and MD took full advantage of the fact that I had a face shield. Now, it should be noted that there was a kung fu stylist fighting out there (which is cool, and one of the reasons why the Junction is a fun place to mix it up) Well this dude started walloping me in the head. A lot. A lot A lot. The first one was a bell ringer that woke me up. And then I noticed…he wasn't getting the hint. So I got him in his greeeeat big belly. End Machismo frass. (MD got him too. Yee to the haw. Our conversation about him later was comical.) I’m actually kinda glad RsVP wasn’t there. He’d have murderized him.

After getting home and putting Tex to bed (Poor kid…he went and got a cold) My old friend Amyloo stopped over for some BS and beers.

For some weird reason, a Dan Fogelburg song popped into my head … I gotta stop doing that when the hour gets late and the conversation turns to olde tymes.*


* So, Texas Armadillo told me the other morning :

"If you ever decide to have a woman spend the night, let me know in advance and I'll shut my door and turn my fan on 'high'. If they leave that night, could you maybe open my door again?"

"I tell you what Tex. How about this? I'll creep into your room, poking you softly" ("I sleep through anything though") "Let me finish...I'll go in there and say quietly...: 'Tex? Teeeeeex??? I'VE GOT A BABE OVER AND IT'S BIG-KID FUCK TIIIIIMMMMEE!!!! IS THAT OKAAAAAAYYYY???!!!!!'"

This was followed by fits of giggles. Hey, I figured it beat the whole "tie on the doorknob" thing.

I love bank holidays.

Where we finish a 3-day weekend, enjoy "Looney" Lunches, Ballerina Hippo's, A$$ in the face, and get to the root of P's incredible soreness.

Up…late-ish. A nice pokey morning BS’ing with my roomie. (He asked for diet advice so we dished: "Let’s look at your veggie dip, shall we Tex? 180 calories in 2 tbsp. 170 calories are derived from fat."/"So, basically what you’re saying P is that it’s all fat?" Someone wins a gold star.)

I met Mopes for a Noon Loon Lunch ("You’re very brave to be wearing a white shirt*" and "You’re so going to get the Chicken Caesar aren’t you?" Girl is getting far too adept at guessing my menu choices.) We grabbed java and she showed me her office ("Hmmm, this is what corporate America would have been like if the Germans won WWII?") and gifted me a lil' Ballerina Hippo from the Misfit Toy bin. No elves were spotted. Nor was Santa.

I spent the rest of my day off doing what? Yep. BS’ing w/Tex and having cocktails. (sighs) Life was good. Until we were attacked by Tstestse flies and we both passed out simultaneously for naps. (At least I made it to bed. Boy was laying on the living room floor, cat on his chest, using his briefcase for a pillow) A quick workout later, in addition to some projects where I put some royally messy holes in my walls (Great P. Ever hear of a concept called "measuring" b4 installing shelves?)

I headed out to wire fu with Trev and MD. (Sasha sez "Hi" RSvP) "Falling" was the theme du jour, and we did a goodly amount of crash mat work. The coolest bit? (If I may geek out) They let me do this...thing, where I ran at a rope, grabbed it, swung clockwise around a pit (filled w/crash pads) and grabbed on to the gymnastics "high bar" across the floor. All pirate-y and stuff. I tried to get all fancy and heave myself over the bar like I was a gymnast or... something.

All I did was give myself big effing bruises on my shins and feet.

I'm a clod. : (

The night ended with Sasha and MD up in the rig while we fooled around with out some ‘ography bits. One of the things we blocked wound up with me getting served a big heapin’ helping of "harnessed Ph.D A$$" in my face. This, kids, is why communication is key in both relationships…and wire-work.

Go see some clips of the fun here. In a couple more weeks, you might see P biff royally, numerous times. (And at the very least, see MD break down the mechanics of a forward tuck roll)

Feerkin COLD!

I was thinking that I shouldn't be all frassy about the weather, you know? "Hey, it's been a mild winter P, so why frass?"

B/C it is winter. And because it's now in the neg's in terms of temperature. When it's so cold that it hurts? That's cold. When you can't go for a run because any area of exposed skin is in danger of frostbite? Cold. When I planned on getting all gussied up to see "Twelfth Night" tonight, and even with my new longjohns, and I think "Hmmm, maybe I can start a fashion trend: Snowmobile Suit Chic?".

Yeah...Wicked cold. (I'm thinking tropical...Thinking tropical....Thinking tropical..)

Speaking of longjohns, I busted out the new guys to give'em a test drive. I may have grabbed the wrong size, I don't know- What I do know is that the waist is fine (I know that you were all worried) the length is fine...but the legs are tiiiight. Like, "pantyhose that is worn to prevent varicose veins" tight. Not uncomfortable...but man. Tight. Minnesotans should be called "Masters of Foreplay" because it takes sooooo long to peel off layer after layer of clothing. A technique we like to call "The slow reveal."

Other wardrobe malfunctions- I'm starting to become a fan of big belt buckles. Cowboy style. (Not pro-wrestler) I've currently got 3-4 in my collection, having added the last one after my recent Maxx visit. ($3 bucks? For Kenneth Cole? Hell yeah) While I realize that this is a fad, and that kids in another 15-20 years will be combing Valu Thrift for P-buckles, I still persist. In the meantime, I will have retired to sweatpants.


Black Silk Pajama bottoms...That's all I'm saying.

Faeriepainter reminded me of why I need adult supervision at ALL times, even when grooming.
Last night I shaved real close so I could be silky smooth for my on-camera today- When I'm in the bathroom at my office getting warshed up, I notice a "patch" on my chin which I missed during my shower shave. And not even a cool "runway" beard, this thing was off centered and weird shaped. Yeah, I'm betting I landed this gig. Hooooooooo Pretty.

I'm tired. At least shaking in my car will keep me awake. BTW, Welcome from your tundra to ours, Portana!


So, another poll: Were you guys into Jake Ryan or Lloyd Dobbler?

1st the full moon gets ya...

And now we deal with libidinous conversations. Juices be flowin' people...(Mom, if you read this...EARMUFFS! Or, um, DARK SUNGLASSES!!!)

I am honestly amazed some days at the pervy shite that comes out of my mouth. (This, coming from a guy who can make twine making instructions sound pervy) BUT I'm even more amazed at the capacity for others to do the same. It really makes me smile.

An example:

Tex, Dora, and I hit "Love Bites" on Tuesday night. For some ssstrange random reason the thought of Bubble Gum ice-cream just, popped in my head. (My old favorite flavor as a kid, was Peppermint Bon-Bon, but there was this strange allure to vanilla ice cream and what amounted to little chunks of flavorless dime store gum. Heaven) So, I ask personwhowillremainnameless if they had ever had it before. The ice cream, I mean.

(And I’m condensing/paraphrasing the hell outta this, but my mind sorta shut down after hearing the response.)

"I sort of feel about it the way I feel about 69’ing. There’s just too much going on. Too many different things happening...you can't fully enjoy or focus on any of them. How are you supposed to enjoy what you're getting and concentrate on what you're giving at the same time? "

True dat.

Me? I had no problems with it, until the mechanics were broken down in detail. The scenario I keep coming up with would be engaging in naughty-naughty big kid time after, saaaay, sparring. And, you know, dah dum dah dum dah dum, you’re there, and she’s there, and she starts moving, the leg swings over your head and WHAMMO…you go into full on Ju-Jitsu, Greco-Roman, Kumite action and get your partner in "the cradle"…waiting for the tap out.

Adrenaline, is all I’m saying. And lack of being able to focus on-your-partner.


So, I’m sort of going to side with personwhowillremainnamelessbutisalsoprettygawdamnfunnytoboot-
Best to err on the side of focus and singular tasking. Zen. I mean I won’t turn it down if it happens, but I need to be perfectly open in regards to the serious and dangerous implications the mere act of simultaneous stimulation can and could cause.

I’m just sayin.

Chilly Willy...

Okay...so he goes from writing 69 posts a day to taking a freaking sabbatical. I gotta work PEOPLE!

Frass.

That being said. It's cold as hell, but I've got a warming weekend with neighbors coming up (Which I'll git into detail later:)

1st- I'm blasting through projects left and right in order to get my house a little less shambly. Paintin's almost complete, and tonight I've relegated to hanging some more decor and trying to fix the bathroom door on it's hinges- if I can find the right ones. If you're wondering whhhhyyyy I don't have a bathroom door...let's just say that it must've seemed like a pretty good idea at the time.

And it wasn't mine. Snerk

2nd- I have poked around several TC thrift stores in the interest of finding a free standing coat rack that wouldn't obnoxiously clash with the woodwork (We home-boners frass about stuff like that. I just wanted a sturdy dark wood, or wrought iron.) I think that the only thing I came away with was the karate head gear, and the distinct feeling that I was covered in...something? (Dust/Schmootz/Pollen...gross) Plus, the one down the street from my house kinda smells like a diaper bag, so no major finds there. I usually have good like, i.e. the headgear, a cool vintage bomber jacket, and my "Richard Roundtree Shaft Jacket". Or as MD affectionately calls "my girl coat". Sweetheart, I'm go kick yo' ass for dissin' my threads! After all? "Who's the white private dick who's the sex machine with allllllll the chicks? P! He's one bad mother (Shut yo mouf!) I'm just talking 'bout P!?!"

Sorry. I waxed Issac for a moment.

Anyway, I had to stop in a TJ Maxx on the way back from the 'Bury today, (Looking for long undiepants) when I decided to pop in to the neighboring St. Pauli thrift store: "Valu Thrift Center"

Thrift Mecca, this place was. Wide aisles. Clean (as can be expected) shopping carts, and just...lots of nicer stuff. Had I the dough or the inclination, I'd have picked up...something? I was just in awe af all of the shite. A frickin' "Captain and Tenille" album? Top Shelf Ta-Ta's! A point of Frass: They actually had a Powerline wavemaster there...for sale...for, get this, $125 bucks? Fuck no.

And still no coat rack.

By the by? I heart TJ Maxx. Don't ask. I needed long undiepants, I walk away with black silk pajama bottoms for $5. They looked "gi-ish". And yes, we are in love, we just haven't set a date yet. TJ Maxx puts out, big time.

Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-TJ Miiiiiiaaaax

So yeah- Seeing dorajar, c-Oral, and the Kaiser on Friday with a little "12th Nacht" goodness...(W/redwright backing me up as my supersecret date) Saturday will be a trifecta warming to welcome Portana to the world of M-N and introduce my mom and dad to the neighbors...and Texas Jellybean. (They've been psyched to make acquantinces with 'Bean since he moved in...it was kinda weird. Maybe they think that we're dating or something?)

Kicked in the Head by Love...

It should go without saying that I’m not the biggest fan of this holiday…if you can call it that. Yes, I think that it’s a bit on the commercial side, and honestly I can’t pull any single V-day memory from my archives that would even remotely warrant discussing. (Fook, last year I was engaged in manual labor. Nothing says loving like drywallin’) All I know is that, for some people anyway, today will be the day that marks the following:

Dinner (restaurants are almost AL-ways booked solid. I had to fight tooth and claw one year to get my gf to go to dinner at 4:30pm at La Bodega. "But that’s soooo eaaaarly". Sorry love, that’s the fookin’ POINT! See, if she’d been thinking outside the box, she’d realize that an earlier dinner means earlier digestion, means earlier "event" ala' movie, means earlier face time for nookie. Kay so maybe that’s just me thinking "inside the box"…HEY OH!),

Buying s#it (Oooo, those vicious jewelers and their vicious advertisements. I’m a little "red overwhelmed" right now. Red Red Red Red Red. Coffee mugs, stuffed animals, Cars...Everywhere. Cards too. Does anyone else think this holiday is a Hallmark conspiracy? We can’t let them win! Fight the future! X-Files, X-FILES!)

Candy: (‘Kay. So admittedly I’m not a dessert kinda guy. No good there. Plus, too many years of getting those pepto tasting candy messages. "Be Mine". Get real. How 'bout something like "Mad Hot Monkey Sex"? Probably wouldn't fit on the candy.)

Drink: (I can sort of get behind this. "Liquor, sir, is a great equivocator". )

Make it a special occasion for, "Something": (Engagement, major purchases –see "buy shit", getting a new puppy or kitty, the annual or bi-annual BeeJ…you know. Something special.)

My personal point is this: I happen to think that love, romance, complimentary messages, surprise kisses, Big bear hugs, backrubs, giving someone a card or a complimentary BeeJ, and really "general thoughtfulness" should be demonstrated year round. With pride. (It’s like how I think you should carry the spirit of X-mas with you year round too… Albeit, it is it’s own separate animal due to having deeper historical relevance, and carols)

Anyway, regardless of your feelings on the commercial aspect or cheesiness, or even if you are a rabid Valentines Day fan…tell someone you love’em/care about’em regardless. Or, you know…give’em a BeeJ, if that’s your thing.

Me? I’m seeing an anti-Valentines Play tonight. Yee-Haw for wine and laughter. And the first memorable Valentines day in a long time. It’ll be nice to have one in my memory box.

XO

(*Oh, the headgear reference? I finally got the phat hookup for my cage headgear. No more getting banned from sparring, baby. The plus side? I got it for dirt cheap -$10! Yee to the Haw. )

(*OMT: Wire fu last night? I’d talk more about it, but it was my night to work the ropes. And it was way more fun to watch my big-brother go all Neo. He’s a natural, baby)

Heh...naughtykins...

Go here to find out your naughty name...Trust me, (For those who know me) my secret-identity is far more boring. My LJ title, otoh...

Well, this was interesting…

‘Kay, you gotta go here with me, ‘cause it’s too funny to pass up:

I got the shit outta the chute. Wait, back up.

After work, I auditioned for "Hmong!: The Musical" (Kidding, "The CIA’s secret army") I headed out to the Pillsbury ‘Ouse Teatro’ for the general call, annnnd lemme tellya. That building smelled like a$$. Seriously, I think the septic system backed up. Nothing like waiting your turn in the truck stop terlet.

I get home BOUND and determined to get those frassin’ sheets outta the hamper. After many, MANY attempts (And a cocktail. It was stressing me out) I stood down in the basement w/Tex and almost considered breaking the fucking chute apart with my bare hands. Froostrated.

"Gosh, you need a crook or something". "Hey, thanks Tex. Lemme go ask the shepard tending his flock in the back yard if I can borrow his."

Tex Shrugged.

P proceeds to fashion a crook out of a wire coat hanger and 7 foot dowel rod.

I got it out. And didn’t become a recipient of a "Darwin Award" from the dumbbells bopping me on the bean. What was the final cost, you might ask? Well, my down comforter is shot. (Duvet cover wouldn’t save that poor bitch.) The weights did indeed come a-crashing down (Along with a hammer and bottle of shower spray. Hey, I was getting frustrated) and they proceeded to smash out the bottom of the laundry chute. My 12 lbs dumbbell are now 2 six’ers…yeah.
I got my quilt back though. 2.5 hours that took me. Wasted my entire day, dammit.


I met Ry-Gonn later for trivia at Billy’s early in the evening. (Our table won, with precious little contribution by yours truly. Those guys are fanatical) Irony of Ironies, the bounty for our victory was 2 tickets to TRP. Fah-Knee.

I headed back home to grab some shut-eye b4 checking out SF’s party. What was pretty funny is I get back from the bar ‘round 9pm. Dorajar was picking me up after her show, so I’m thinking I’ll grab at least a 20 minute power nap.

I was awoke at 11pm, with a phone call saying that she was on her way. Ummm, damn. That was a powerful nap.

SF’s party was a hoot. I ate my weight in bird and shrimp (I took in no where NEAR Carlton sized portions of shrimp. It was that damn spicy cocktail sauce that was the bane of my existence) And funny thing, I didn’t drink nearly as much as I would have thought. And I wound up staying WAAAAAY too late (5am anybody?) Which, methinks, the power nap attributed to. And all that protein gave me a delightful case of indigestion, which made for some FOULED up dreams.

Sonntag, we headed out to brefkissed with Melinite and her hubby. ("Dare me to go 90 on the Linus statue?") Deeeeelicious eggs were mowed at the Uptown, and a lot of laughing was done. (Things could not have been funnier. But it’s amazing what 2.5 hours of sleep will do to your sense of humor.) Upon returning home, I tried taking a nap but having the equivalent of a gallon of java flowing through my veins, it was pretty much a non-issue. So, Projects. (TV room DONE!) And more projects. And some more burning of found items best forgotten. And then callbacks for "Haaaaay Fevah". And then dinner with new friends. Fritata and collards, btw. Grubbin'.

Awesome blossom. Good times.

I’m back to being boo-too tired. And anxiously awaiting some frassin’ phone calls.

The moon strikes again...

You are all probably asking yourselves, right this very second..."Baby P: Why you be so full of frass?"

Welllll, I lead a charmed life, as many of you already know. And I really shouldn't judge a day based on the first 15 minutes of waking, buuuuttttt:

This morning, I opened a big bag of pretzels and was measuring out the portions to bring for lunch today. (A brilliant idea, I thought. Instead of spending the $ on the vending machine, just get the boo-too sized bag and ration them out. Yes, I thought of this the other day at the store. No, this isn't some new idea...shup.) Well, Mr. Bag was leaning against the back of the counter and decides to do it's own impression of the Olympics and do a 1/2 gainer off the side of the counter.

Yeah. I was able to stop the contents from COMPLETELY emptying onto the floor, but it made a mega big mess regardless. And of course, I step backwards to not grind any of them into the rugs, but they were EVERYwhere...so yeah...there was crunching. And I split the bag 1/2 way down the side. Brilliance.

I get to work and I'm off to get some hot water for my tea. As I go over to the counter to "Doctor" the water with a little lemon juice and honey, I discover that someone threw a soy sauce packet in with the lemon juice. Now, by "discover", my little Magellans, I mean the soy packet looks just like the lemon juice packet. For a second I actually wondered why the water turned brown...At least they didn't charge me for a "Hot Water Refill"

Sorry. I just read a couple of chapters in the book "1401 things that P#ss me Off" and some of them were a little too true to be funny.

The moon was really pretty on the drive into the sticks, though.

WTF?

I'm a sucker for my horoscope. It's true. And while I don't subscribe exclusively to my Horrible-Scope profile (Thanks Jabas) I do get a kick out of referring myself as a Capricornicus-Pornicus. Probably more than I should. Go here and learn 'bout yourself...and everybody else. : ) And you know what? b/c I've gotta be me, I'm gonna add my 2 cents in parenthesis.

Once again, I hate valen-porn day.


The first time you meet a person with Capricorn horoscope, they may appear aloof, but what they really are, is cautious. (Hi. It's me. Cautious? Heh...oookay. Maybe a little, but fork...it's a full moon) Capricorns interests are in art, theater, music, and in their own career. (Doi. Doesn't EVERYBODY have an interest in these things? What about my interest in cooking? Hmm? What about THAT? Or my penchant for latch-hooking?) Usually they are drawn to people who are intellectually stimulating and they seek a partner who will fit into their realm of life. (And screw. They've GOT to want to screw a lot. Cap's LOVE them some humpsters.) People with Capricorn horoscope prefer to discuss serious subjects, however, will always be there to listen to a problem. (Riiiiight. This is describing the guy that happens to think dick and ball jokes are magical? Listen, yes. My preference, btw, is to keep things quite topical, shallow, and ideally about me. Tell me I'm pretty mommy.)

People born under Capricorn Sign appreciate luxury, although, they don't like splurging to make an impression. They feel that money is a serious issue that spells out security. (Um, this NE honkey be po'. I ain't trippin' on the ho' shit...brother ain't got no green and I finna be broke as a joke. That being said, I'm thinking of making a delicious Spinach Salad with raspberry vinagarette, carmelized walnuts, and feta...for my lil' soiree'. That sounds marvy, yeah? Luxury, meh.)

Capricorns tend to be dominating and are not easy to win over. (Tell me I'm pretty, and I'll follow you anywhere. Dominating, btw. These writers are pervy) They also expect to be pursued and not be the pursuers. (Except when I'm in full bore Ninja-Stalking phase.) If you're going on a date with this zodiac, make sure you're prompt. (And come with the full intention of wanting to hump. A lot.) If you say you'll be there at a certain time, be there. (Unless, say, you are definitely gonna put out. In that case...I can wait.) They are intolerant to people who say something and do something else. (Whoa. One universal truth in this entire sarcastic mess. I'm stunned. Okay, that's not true at all. I'm pretty tolerant to everybody. Don't JUDGE me horrible-scope!)

If you have a tendency to let your emotions rule you, then you may want to keep looking for someone else, since People born with Capricorn Sign can come across as cool and reserved. (Nope. Just cool. I'm about as reserved as a howler monkey that's been eating sugar and coffee all-day-long.) As they take a common sense approach in almost everything they do, it will be included in their relationship. They want to be cherished, honored, loved and respected. In return, passion will run deep and you will have a loving lasting relationship. (Are we still, you know, "doing it" after all that time? Are my all-new-old-cheap moves still working? Cool. Then this has been the most accurate horrible-scope evah.)

1 more thing

Only from the mind of Baby P:


The ladies in Policy Accounting have all these mini-wind socks hanging from their desks. Apparently they bought them to support one of their kids fund drives or something. They're kinda cute, you know...They're in the shape of fishies, and butterflies, hummingbirds...all hanging from their desks.

The funny part is that they all have the same basic pattern to their bodies. Which, is to say they all kinda...(Wait for it) kinda...

Well they kinda look a little like an unrolled condom. And some have wings, or fins.

You get the image.

So, in a bold gesture I asked my friend in policy accounting where they came from etc, and without prompting by yours truly she makes the aforementioned prophylactic reference. We tittered and giggled and looked over our shoulders to see if anyone overheard us...

Baby P: "Nice visual, M"

M: "It wasn't just me. All the ladies think the same thing"

Baby P: "Funny. I thought they look kinda like those gimmick underpants you can buy at Spencers or Fredericks. You know the ones? With the toucan, or candy cane dangling from the front?"

M: "Yeah...C0ck S0cks"

More laughing.

I'm amazed I can get any work done sometimes. Or that I don't get fired. At least it's nice to know that there are quite a few more people here that are dirtier than moi. Well, almost as dirty.

And I need a camera phone in a big bad way.

"Honnnnnkey Tonk WIMMMIN!!!"

Where am I again?

Oh, that’s right- Work. On Saturday. Balls.

So I get home last night to my stereo buh-LASTING "Honky-Tonk Women" by the Stones. Tex comes rushing upstairs from doing his laundry (sidebar: This guy had all of his laundry-which was a goodly amount- in small mounds in my basement. I called it "Tide-Henge". And when I say "rushing", you need to realize that there are no slow calculated steps with the Jellybean, BAMF and he was back upstairs.)

"Is the music too loud? Please tell me if it is."

So I started dancing.

"Mick-Style".

"Move w/me Jellybean…come on, move around a little bit…HELP me."

Nothing like deprogramming after a 10 hour day with a little Jagger induced groovin’.


In other news/frass: I succeeded in wedging my comforter and quilt in the laundry chute. It is stuck midway between upstairs and basement jussssst out of reach of fingers and jusssst out of reach of "pokables" which could hopefully loosen it up. In a stroke of genius, I decided to drop dumbbells on top of the mess in order to loosen it up. (Hey, it worked the last time things got gummed up). The current tally, with (hmmmm, 1-2-3) approximately 35 lbs worth of dumbbell resting on top of it: Winner- sheets.

Since I have no other down comforter or quilt in my possession, I was forced to commandeer the Scottish wool blanket I bought in Salisbury (A little scratchy, but it’ll do in a pinch) and also the chintzy chenille throw from the TV room. Yeah. Coooooomfy nights sleep.

I like a little weight on top of me when I’m in bed…knowwhutI’msayinmuskrats?

And yeah…I stayed out past bedtime AGAIN. After checking out the damage on Dora’s munched car (At least the windows are in tact) I darted past a group from the bah last night w/o even recognizing a single one of them (Single of purpose, I am: I’m tired. I’m cold. I want bed. Hey wait, where’s the frassin’ comforter?)

So, needless to say, it’s another typical day in paradise. I’m in the burbs. Printing off directions from an Evite. And thinking about what time I should bail out of here to get to South Mipples for an audition.

And a nap. This full moon/best behaviour bit is really exhausting the crap out of me.


Soundbite du jour: (Taken from the bar die letzte nacht)

"Countdown to speculation in Five, Four, Three, Two, One..."

Weekend, you are so true...

I figured I oughta squeeze one out b/4 the weekend got crowded. It'll be bittersweet: A little frass with a little optimism thrown in for smiles.

(ahem)

Full moon fever is in full swing. We're slated for that big bulbous hunk O' cheese to be flexing it's mighty muscles this Monday. I'm a pseudo-believer in the power of the lunar cycles in how it affects human behavior (Working in call center environments for as long as I have, you tend to get the real doozy-douchebag calls around full moons. Not sayin', but you know)
Subsequently, I've adopted a weird habit of "treading lightly in life" during these times: Making extra sure to measure words and actions so as not to have my meaning lost or actions misjudged, in an attempt to combat the ebb and flow of the Moon. Which probably sounds a little malark-ish, but y'know...I need all the help I can get in life.

Which brings us to:

Poor dorajar got into a car accident yesterday. Nothing boo-too serious, but enough to shake her up a little before her 12th night preview. (Congrats, sweetheart. Welcome to the car accident club. And best of luck to night on your opening!) So, send positive thoughts her way. (Irony of Ironies: Girl had JUST called me to tell me to drive safe. Crazy, no?)

There's been a lot of online frassin', as well as frassin' at the workplace. I stay quietly in place. Letting the waves rock around me.

I just had my cable and internet service disconnected. Some more collateral damage of recent tragic events. So, now I'm needing to pay $280 just to get back online. It kills me, b/c I know the roomie is jonesin' to get his service set back up...and it kills me, 'cause I'm trying to figure out if I should have a bake sale to cover all of these "little debts" that pop up over the next several months. It makes my tummy knot up.

I frassed my hamstring. I don't know if it was class the other night, but from my ass to my heel, it feels like white ice. Meaning I don't know if class on Saturday is going to be an option. I'd normally pop a couple NSAID's and push through it, but this new guy just really seems to be telling my body: Not this time. Seriously. Can't even jog. I'm ticked. And fidgety.

No one sells long underpants right now. After discarding the quitters a few weeks ago, I'm down to 2 pairs of thermal skivvies for my outdoor jogs. And February is fixing to be mighty cold for a few weeks. Cold-Balls.


On the flip side:

-2 auditions lined up this weekend. Cross your digits.
-Meeting Ry-Gonn for trivia. The promise of free food and booze will help me overcome my lackadaisical loathing of bar trivia.
-I might get to go to class on Saturday. Might.
-I've time to do projects around the house. Finally can start making some more real headway before Portana's visit.
-12th Night cast party on Sats. Tryptophan induced frenzy abounds. Thanks for the invite, co-hosters.
-A delightful Bee-Kay-Eff-Ess-Tee on Sunday w/Dora, Melinite, and her hub-hub. I love breakfast. Ask me sometime about the future reading romps I plan on having at Twin City coffee shoppes.
-Finally I might get a chance to see Orley after not having seen her in ages.

Uff to the Da.

Safe weekend folks. See y'all on Moon-day. Or tomorrow, if I'm at work and making a face like this ("Uhhhghhhghhhgh")


"Beware the moon, Alex..."
"An American Werewolf in London". Great fucking movie, btw.

Weird Wednesday Night.

Okay.

I am a wussenheimer.

Can someone explain to me, wait. Scratch that. Start over.

So last night work/home/napped. Roommate comes home. Shopping is done. Now, Seriously? I had 3 things on my Target list. 3. Tell me then how I wound up with a white wall shelf, new sheets, a cowboy belt (on sale, $4 btw) a new tie (on sale, $4.98 btw. Roomie says it looks nice) and a Diet Coke? I don't know. I hate the bullseye sometimes.

I putz through some more projects, help Armadillo get his room situated, talked to redwright, sang into a telephone (I do weird s#it like that) and then...Tex & I sit and shoot the breeze for a goodly while. We decide to reward ourselves w/a little trip to the Market for our labor.

"I'm only staying for one"
"Cool"
"And I'm only staying for an hour"
"Cool"
"59 minutes and 43 seconds now"
"Cool"
So we go. The one drink part was successful, Thanks DeeG. (And no, Kaiser, I wasn't drunk. I was fecking tired, and realized that I still had to drive home. Get those impure thoughts out of your brain.)
Although, we ended up staying later than we thought. Much. We were out past curfew mom, sorry.

And I beat the Armadillo home. Boo-Ya.

What I learned last night:
1) Apparently the new Evil Dead video game is pretty cool
2) My good friend Latt's (Who I never get to see) makes bi-weekly appearances at the Market.
3) I really, really need to stay in one of these nights. Like, full time.
4)I do dress like a social studies teacher. Witnesses agree.
5) I now have agreed to do yet another crazy thing while I've been drinking. I'm far too agreeable sometimes.*
6) I need to find a cozy watering hole closer to home. At least in the winter time. Cold cars suck
7) Even though his girl was with him, Kaiser wants my sweet ass. Not sayin...well, you know.
8) Cottage Cheese w/tabasco, btw, is something that does not make for good bar food. B4, or After.
9) I really like Text Messaging. Thanks MD for showing me the light to this wonderful piece of technology. And thanks to everybody that has texted me subsequently. The little things, you know?

I don't know why, it just kind of felt like a weird day yesterday. Do you guys ever get that feeling sometimes? Not necessarily a bad day, just kind of...weird.

I know. Coming from Captain Tangent, that's a profound-assed statement.

Geek Back Up

Anybody else think that she should have been Elektra?

I'm just saying.

That still is from an upcoming Sci-Fi/Horrible movie called "Ultraviolet"*. I don't know about y'all, but I've harbored a mini-croosh on Miz Jo-Vah-Vitch since "Return to the Blue Lagoon".
The fact that she has a penchant for taking off her clothes isn't really a strike against her either.


Back to the subject, there are many actors cast as Super Heroes where Hollywood just sorta...screws the pooch. For example: (Here we go)

Jason Statham? Woulda been a great Frank Castle aka the Punisher. Get him over his 'eavy accent, throw on a Toupee'...and he'd be golden. And even though he's been cast in "Ghost Rider" and I hate him, Nicholas Cage woulda been a good Punisher.

Guy Pearce? Matt Murdock, aka "Daredevil". Ham Affleck should stick to indie gigs in order to regain some career credibility. Lookit that pic, btw. And here I thought I had cheekbones.

Steve Buscemi? Bruce Banner aka "The Hulk". I woulda like to see the dichotomy between skinny nebbish doctor and, you know...the Hulk.

Naomi Watts? "The Invisible Woman", Sue Storm. Jessica Rassin' Alba was horrible.

I'm gonna go Old School for a second, and rail against Alec Baldwin. (B4 he reads my blog and decides to go kick my a$$) This guy woulda been perfect, PERFECT as Batman circa 1989. He was suave or gravelly when he needed to be. In pretty good shape around that time. Had a previous working relationship w/the director (Beetlejuice) He shoulda lobbied for himself to be Batman. Insteeead, he goes off and works on that turkey "The Phantom" (Which should have stayed in the hallowed antiquity that is radio.)


I'm tangenting, big time. Sorry for being so "Link heavy"

I didn't get much sleep last night, and the sleep I did get was Morgans induced after a wonderful night of BS at Whitey's. The BS and bruschetta were delicious. (Even though I think I shoulda got the seafood quesadilla's)

Roomies daughter is coming over to cook us dinner. That should be exciting. I still don't have a baking pan yet. Frass. I gotta go clean.


* The director was the same guy that did "Equilibrium" which I haven't seen but is supposed to be very cool. "Gun Kata's" and shit. BULLET POINT!

I am, that homeowner...

Seriously. Does anyone else get excited about this stuff? Prolly not.


(Sighs) I have become that homeowner.


Oh well...I'm going. So nyah. Anyone wanna go with me?

Big Hairy Survey

To Shave, or not to shave...That is the question...


Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of the Gillette Mach 3 razor, and the invariable bumps and nicks that'll accompany not having shaved in like, 2 weeks. (run on sentence) Or to just shave off the filthy mo-fo. I've taken to chewing on my upper lip b/c of the crunchy beard texture, and unfortunately it probably makes me look a little bit nutty. Or like a muppet.


So, what'll it be kids? Facial hair, or not...Make a game out of it.

Whoa...

Nod to Keanu.


I sent this text out to some people last night, right after I got into my car from Gleason's.

"I flew"

If ya read her stuff, MD had already taken part of the madness that is wire fu. Not being one to miss the bandwagon, I figured I'd better see what all the fuss is about. So I went. And it goes a little something like this.


I got there around 8-ish and had to wait while they got the riggings up in the rafters (Which took them a good 30-45 minutes) Then the get the harness on you (Like a climbing belt, but cinched lower to account for ride-age) I noticed the snug-factor right away, and I tried to avoid making snarky "package" comments. ("Oooooooo male camel toe Oooooooooo Saddle Bags Oooooooo")

You go through the basics first: Getting used to walking around (It's a weird feeling) and taking mini-jumps, letting the counter weights pick you up (You get a goodly amount of air with just the 25 lbs counters)

Then they pull you up to see if you can lean back and stay flat on your back while being supported in mid air. (You start on the floor on your back, then they sloooowly bring you up) Next, they do the same with you lying face down. I started doing the full body flips right away so we moved on to "Level B"- Where they pull you straight up and you do 1-2 flips before they let you down again. (These were tricky. My impulse was to try and "jump" when they pull you, when you should just let the wires take you up. Also, when you do the flip you have to keep your body straight. I kept doing a "leg and arm tuck" out of habit.)

Crotch was chafing at this point, but I was having too much fun to care.

The cool stuff was next. (You know it'll be cool when the instructor guy says "Did you want to try some cool stuff?") Which entailed:

Big running start and jumping 15-20 feet and landing in a fighting stance/Getting pulled back (like I was punched/kicked) 15-20 feet and landing in a guard stance/ Tornado kicks 10 feet off the ground where you keep spinning and spinning and spinning/ And then we did the flying.

Just pure flying. And sure as f##k I got my ass tangled in the harness.

More than once I landed in a Spidey pose.

And I won't lie. It was cool to be surrounded by female gymnasts. ("Jace, is this guy here new? Is he here for the wire kung fu? gigglegigglegigglegigglegiggle")

It's not all glamour.

The guys let me guinea pig a new rig for them too. (The launched me at the school owner, who through a nerf football to me in mid-air. Awesome.) I didn't get home until 11:15ish. It was really fun, and I can't wait to go back and try it again. Brilliant.

Consider the source...

So, do you know my idea of a perfect day? And not the "me-me" kind we sometimes answer.

For me, it’s a day with no agenda. Either personal, or itinerized. And so, my bit chompers, Saturday is going to be presented in the form of "bullets" and "sound bites". While it may seem cryptic, we sayer’s of said sound-bites think that they are hilarious, and are the most accurate depiction of the day. If it seems random, well, that’s kind of the way the day was: Random. Anything else can and will be left to speculation. So have at it. (Ya Goofballs.)

To the hot server at the Egg and I who noticed a fabric softner sheet had fallen from my pant leg (I’m classy): "I’ve LOST MY POWER!!!" . I think she thought we were cool after that.

To the same server, who noticed when the Rambler almost left her scarf behind: "HER POWERS!"

"Heartily" is a funny word. "You had heartily shut the door before I missed you"…The Japanese guy in line at the Egg and I thought it was funny anyway.

(At Urban Harvest, from the Barrista) "That’s a great wallet"/"Thanks. It’s Goat" (Always gotta bring things back to the Faso, doncha Rambler?)

(On the "Stems and Vines" store kitties) "Kitty time is never wasted"

(On our parents) "My dad is into meditation"/"That means he naps"

"There will be no thinking allowed. Thinking is outlawed in Taylors Falls. Police, like, issue citations for it"

Regarding the concierge ("Mr.Walrus") at the hotel who took forEVAH to come out and check me in ("I think we seriously interrupted that dude’s bong-time.")

Cable cooking show on making everything with Apples: "Um, if you are using a hand crank ice cream maker, do you need to be on a glacier?" The cooking show hosts body language while "cranking the cream" was worth 5 minutes of laughter.

Same show, new comment "Next on the show, ‘Fermenting Ball-Sweat Ale’…"

On figure skating: "Somebody had to invent this?"/"The Russians"

On the play we read: "Well, there’s really only one way to read it."

About Schmidt: "Dear, Ndugu…"

On bloody mary’s: They are good day starters

Sidebar: We entered a used bookstore/antique store/mystical bongo earth Mother store. It was cool, but weird. The owner sort of "Bamfed" and materialized behind the counter in a wisp of brimstone and scarves. I left the rambler to chat while I checked out some antiques. A very sweet lady, we talked about drum circles and her art ($3600 for my favorite piece? Ehhhh, I don’t think so) I opted to support the town, and bought a small framed print of a Marseille Port that I thought was pretty. The Rambler and I checked out some used books, which is where we’ll continue our journey:

(Actual used book title: "Conversations with God")
"Hey P"/"Hey God…what’s up?"/"Not much, seeing what you’re up to tonight?"/"Eh, I’m probably gonna stay in and watch ‘Lost’. You?"/"Eh, I’m gonna head out to Nye’s around 9"/"Cool, well, hit me on my cell if you wanna hang or something"/"Cool dude…later"

"I’m going down to the bottom, RAPture…"/"I fucking hate Lorie Line"

(We "sneak in" to the Park)
"I fucking hate boat rides. Fuck you, boat rides"
"I feel like a New Yorker"
"I don’t think we can go down that way" (Only funny b/c we said it, ohhhh, 3 or 4 times)
"I dare you to step out onto the ice"/"I dare myself to say ‘Fuck No!’ "
"I fucking hate man hole covers. Fuck you manhole covers"/"Man-hole covers, btw…"

"What do you want to do?"/"Well, you’re going to want to eat later"/"Great. I’ll eat, and what are you going to do? Sit there and watch me?"

"We can talk about that later…"/"BULLET POINT!"

"We should make up responses to things like ‘Hey, How are you doing today?"/"I’m Tide with Bleach, baby…Tide-With-Bleach"

"Are you still reading that book?"/"Yeah, no…It started getting to be all about ‘Building these fortresses’, and ‘How high are the walls?’ and ‘Do you have enough guards?’ and ‘Are their bows sharpened?’…)

(Inserting a brief respite for dinner at the lobby bar. I had an underwhelming grilled chicky sammich and revolting salad. Rambler enjoyed 5 out of 8 quesadillas. We continued drinking)


"Thank you for being honest with me"/"Doi"


(On the sexy seniors who were dining across the restaurant) "I see your demographic there"/"Cool. Okay, we’re going to leave together, and theeeeeen I’m gonna come back in and ask if anyone has an extra towel.."
(On pool) "Sometimes it’s fun just to hit the balls"
(On the Juke) "Oooooo they have ‘Frat Rock!’/"Oh Fuck No!"
(On human sacrifice) "Excuse me, do you have ‘carb friendly’ human blood?

(Soundbites on s#itty T.F. hotel hot tubs)
"You’re like, the ‘B-Squad’ Siren. Luring Greek Sailors to the overheated hot tub"/ "The fucking jets don’t work? FUCK!"/ "You were so unhappy with the hot tub"

(On early curfews)
"No one is going to believe we went to bed at 10:30pm."

(On early risers)
"No one is going to believe we got up at 7:30am"/"I woke up thinking about breakfast"

(On dad-blasted WI restaurants who should serve breakfast, but don’t)
"I fucking hate Eichten$. Fuck you, Eichten$!"

(On the fact that there were no breakfast places between Hwy 8 and 35W, then 35W until Co Rd 88)
"Um, where do these people eat?"
"I bet if ‘Trappers’ served breakfast it would be pretty good"

(On "the Perk")
"I’d like 12 Tremendous 12’s…so, like, the Tremendous 144 and stuff"/"Good math"
" I am so intrigued by Wilmer" (Our server)
"So, sir let me get this straight: You want a glass of water (yes), a large orange juice (yes), and a coffee? (yes)" (Rolls his eyes)
"I think I laughed too loud, I’m getting reproachful gazes"/"I really feel like having sausage"

"I’m gonna have to post that tomorrow"/" What’s sad is that we’re not going to remember half this funny shit tomorrow"

So.

There is the play by play. I’ll probably have clarifiers thrown in by the Road-Trip-Buddy. The lesson? Good days are rare.

How about y’all? When was the last time you had a really good day. I've got a few that I could mention, but I'm hoggin' the airspace...

Donna Summer?
Simma Donna!

SUCH an interesting and somewhat (surprisingly) relaxing weekend, pampers. Now, I could tell ya all that gory details, but I think the overwhelming laziness of a portion of it will drive the masses into a media frenzy of speculation and rumor. So, in order to provide you with a thoughtful, if not confusing bloog today, I may have to code some of this for safety purposes. Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be too cryptic. And once you figure it out, everything will be shampoo and conditioner in one. That’s right, shampoo and conditioner…in one.

Friday night was all right for fighting. Well, no, it actually was kinda boring. I was reprimanded for not wearing a cage, and class was made up of (pretty much) 1.5 hours of drills. Now, I like learning fighting technique as well as the next person, but seriously there was no continuous sparring to break up class. That, coupled w/the fact that I must have lost my elbow pads at the Junction (meaning I had to dig through lost and found, only to find a pair of "kids sized" elbow pads to wear. Can we say "No blood flow?") COUPLED with the fact that I was pointed out as the one you "shouldn’t hit in the face", CAH-PULLED with the fact that in a couple of clashes some over-exuberant brown belt dug into the meat of my anterior tibalis, completely numbing the side of my shin. Class was definitely not sine, co-sine, and tangent. Not- Trig. And, I barely sweat.

So, I went home and ran a couple miles.

I was able to finish up some detail painting and meet up with W cubed and dorajar over at JP’s. Cold as hell, would describe the weather methinks. (The mere fact that I know it’s 61 degree’s in SF right now turns me meteorologically green.) FeeJ and Huge showed up with her oot friend (FeeJ, really, I feel like a big time, BIG TIME schmo for tossing the Huge. Not, Cool, P. And definitely NOT Cool Ranch Dorito’s of me to do.) I ended up kibbitzing a bit later than I expected, and since I had an early day on Sats, I tore a$$ home to get the semblance of a good nights sleep.

Saturday was fun.

Sunday was top-shelf liquor: The new roomie and I had a big time heart to heart early in the am. RsVP came over and re-wired a couple of outlets/entry light. (Yay projects.) DeeT’s hooked me up with a faux-butcher block table that’ll land nicely in the nook. (A great addition for, ohhh, serving food @ a party. Not sayin’, just sayin.) And I got some more pictures/decorations hung up. (Something I’ve been putting off, but since they aren’t on the ground any more, the rooms are looking a little less cluttered.) I’m really hoping for a Depot run this week to get some last minnit touch uppy kinda things and I should be smooth sailing for the next couple of months.

Funny thing. I got a boo-too headache and had to nap. Like, knock me on my a$$ headache. (I never get'em, less'n it's after a particularly "wine-y" evening, y'know? ) I’m thinking that the previous day of leisure lulled me into a false sense of security, so that vigorously attacking projects the next day caught up with me in full force.

A call later from Ry-Gonn beckoned me to points Southward to watch the big-game. (As well as the promise of steamed chicken w/mixed veggies from Fresh Wok, and bless Ry’s heart- a slice of vegetarian pizza from Luce’. Needless to say I was uncomfortably stuffed during the 3rd and 4th quarter) The commercials were okay this year. A couple of belly laughers (The: "Don’t judge too quickly" from Ameriquest were my fave’s) Although the highlight soundbite of the evening was:


"So, P…I hear you have a new SO…I’m surprised you haven’t told us?"

(Insert needle scratching noise…then crickets…then stares from the peanut gallery.)

My headache returned. So, I went home, and then went to bed.

Biscuits and Gravy.

Lo, I am quit

The boss bought me beer.

"What?"

"I don’t know, I know you don’t eat cupcakes or cake, so I didn’t know what to get you."

"Wha-?"

"Just make sure you chew gum before any customers show up so they don't smell your breath"

And that...my friends... was the day, the hardest boss I’ve ever worked for... let me pull from ice cold Australian Beer bottle while we talked, and laughed, and ignored the hell out of whoever was in the store front. All on company time. Which was basically 10-15 minutes. She even let me keep the last 4. I was able to enter the next 3 hours with a ridiculous buzz, all while helping these dork-pies get ready for their winter formal.

And then it was dead for the last half hour.
And then my friend Ry-gonn showed up.
And then I kicked him out after getting the wedding stuff planned out for him.
And then I left notes for my co-workers and T-dawg.*

And then I was done.





*I got a farewell note from my co-worker. She’s Hmong, so obviously I had to make mistakes with her ethnicity, calling her everything from Mongolian, to Tibetan, to Siberian, to Spanish. I was shameless. Whenever she’d mumble, I say "What? What? I don’t speak…what is that? Hmongese?!?!" In turn, sweetheart that she is, would teach me about Hmong Culture. Her 15 and 14 year old cousins who got married. (really) Her "dumb" boyfriend. We’d fight over who got to inhale the window cleaner whenever we'd work together. She'd bitch about her freshmen classes at the "U". And I’d tell her to stop using a pen to draw a star in the same place on her hand- "Just get a frickin’ tattoo already!!!"

Anyway, the note almost made me cry. I left the syntax as is.

"M---! I love ya! It was my pleasure to knowing you! You have been a great impact in my life! Thank you for your great advices and picking on me. It kept me going-.Thank You!! Come back and visit! Good Luck in Life!! Hey Keep That Head Up!!!"

Okay.

So I guess I’ll miss one thing.

Happy F Day

Oof. You’d think the frass would have let up this week, but dag yo- The closer I get to the oft desired weekend, the more frafficult it becomes.

Fer starts: I worked in Woodbury this am, as I do every Friday morning. A difficult wake upt today as a result of my final ass night at the shoppe. (More on that in a minute) and also the new Roomie coming over to finalize $. Dorajar joined us and we raised a celebratory toast to my final day. Well, the BS was cooking, and I just didn’t get to bed until, oooo, later.

So I’m trying to clear out the cobwebs, and as I get going I realize that I’m starting on my commute to Maple Grove. (Thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t get very far b4 turning around) Upon caffeinating heavily, I start to log in to my "remote" PC when…

Nothing. Nada. No Email, 'Net, and I guess most importantly- The tools I need to do my job. Great.

One hot ticket to the ISD service desk and 2.5 hours later, I’m back online. The culprit? The night before, someone plugged the network cord into a dead port. Lame.
So, I’m back. And tired. And really looking forward to a relaxing day tomorrow. Which I believe will include coffee, Tabasco, and eggs.

Soopah Bowel Sunday coming up. Here’s to seeing some hilarity in the form of adverts. I will more than likely be sitting on my tuckus, scratching.

Thursday Salt Lick

You’d think that it’s too early for frassin’, but I got frass to spare this morning. Superfluous Frass. A frass surplus.

1st of all, I choked down my 1st green tea in forever. (Mint flavor or not, I think my subconscious "let’s" me forget to drink a glass a day. ) Upon digging through the cupboard which is my bottom work drawer (C’mon, I can’t be the only one to have this? The extra "borrowed" sugar packets, plastic utensils, paper plates, etc. I’m the only one? Crap. I am my parents) So, I normally have some honey in there so that I can attempt to mask the ass taste, except I don’t have any. All gone. And there isn’t any in the cafeteria. Or servery, or whatever high-falutin’ name it gets called.

2nd of all, they charged me $.11 for my hot water. I don’t think I’ve ever been charged, so I’m thinking this is a new policy. Fine. Except I didn’t have it so I had to bogart a dime and a penny from the "Have one Give One" cup. (Yeah, I returned it. Chill.) Also? Our Woodbury site does the same thing, except they only charge a dime. Hmmmmm, I didn’t know the exchange rate gets all fucked up when you cross the Mississippi. Next week they’ll ask for kronaurs or rupee’s or some shit just to make me crabbycakes.

3rd-The coffee of the day was Vanilla Nut. SCORE! Anytime they have a better tasting coffee than the ass-tastic house blend I think that life is a pretty sweet fruit. Normally, I wait for my co-worker to go down there with me- HOWEVER he brought his OWN coffee from home. (Which, he promptly spilled down the front of his shirt. KARMA motherf#cker…what I’m sayin’!) Anyway, it was gone. The Vanilla Nut. All within a span of 15-20 minutes of my first observation. Zounds, say I, as I find myself choking down Ass Blend.

4th- Someone commented on my footwear. Look. All right. Yes. So I’m wearing the shirt, tie, and dress pants…but I have got to be me, and the black old school tennies are stayin. Dig? (Plus, WAY more comfy than the Nunn Bush. Those shoes crack me up for the exact same reason all of you are all thinking too. Which probably means that I’m the only one who has the emotional maturity of an 11 year old. Great. FeeJ also used the term "Guac-Off" which sent me into hysterics. " 'Scuse me...I'll be in the shower guac-ing of*..." So that was much MUCH funnier to me.)

5th-Retroactive frass: Last night I wanted to whip up a Salmon fillet. I’ve had one in the freezer since a house and a half ago, so I figured it was high-time to cook the sumbitch. I let it thaw over night, took it out, went to grab a pan when WTF!?!? I no longer have any baking receptacles. None. Bush. So I had to toss the foil wrapped SOB in for an hour.

6th-I now get to attend a meeting where the other coaches in my dept. review a call that "I" scored. Great. Jury of my peers, coming up.

Ugh! HOOOOUUUUSSEEE BLLLEEEEENNNND!

Grease is the word...

Y’all know I’m nuts about food. And I have the tendency to fixate on it. (Even if my appetite still isn’t quite back to where it used to be.)

The past several days on my morning commute, I drive past the BK on Lowry and Warshington…and I’ve been fighting the overwhelming urge to head to the drive through and get a gawdamn croissan’wich. I even hate saying croissan’wich. I still want one. Or find a McD’s and get a frassin Egg McMuffin. Or brefkist biscuit sandwich.

Even worse?

I wanted to try one of those heart stopping Ginormous Meatwich Breakfast Sammiches. The one I railed against a few months ago? Seems like a pretty good idea right now. Yessireee that 7,000 calorie jobbie which I imagine would cause my system to automatically shut down. After I was dead, with all the nitrites and preservatives in me, I’d probably keep up rather well as a corpse. Prop my ginormous meatwiched self up at the Science Museum next to the mummy. (I can just hear the smart kids asking the docent: "Is that australopithicus? Cro-magnon Man? Neanderthal?"/"No. This is a well-preserved specimen of 'Meatwich Man'"/"Oooooooooooooo. He still has cheese in his fingernails")

This jones has probably been brought on by the fact that I’m nursing a mild wine hangover. Sooooo: Grease is the word, knowwhutI’msaying?

(Grumble frass…back to my blueberry yogurt. Frass)

OH DAMN- Famous Daves Breakfast/Brunch Buffet! UN-limited eggs and bacon…Mmmmmmmm baaacon. Is there anything you can’t do?

Whee Doggies.

Long days can really bust your chops, you know? Tuesdays are now "officially" my long day (Working late) which I suppose means I can allow myself a "late" night on Mondays. (Yeah right. Grampa here will still manage to get to bed by 9pm he can manage." Whenever I put in a long day, either willingly or no, I just feel like I ran wind sprints. Ex. Austing.

Last night I was able to catch up with my friend, the gay burrito who came in town to check on his old house. Poor guy has relocated out to Bumblefrass No-Where WI and I’m always curious how a gay metropolitan city boy can handle living out in the sticks. ("Dude, you live in WI."/ "Yeah, but I’m on 40 acres!"/"Dude, you still live in WI.") We had a mini-celebre’ since he has now obtained gainful employment at the Big Gay Wagon Company. (Gracias for that term, Mistah Grimes) American Idol, was watched. His cute dogs were all licky. ("Dog, quit chewing on my shoe. Do you know how deadly the foot that goes in that shoe can BE? DO YOU!!!???!) His evil cat, Betty, succeeded in putting another hole in my "safety gloves". Still, he’s going to have to commute his ass from (basically) Turtle Lake to Bloomington. That’ll suck.

Afterwards, I met the WW superstars at Mancini’s along w/Tallen, Dorajar, and Future Roomie DeeT's. I’d never been to the char house before ("Pull up a char" said FW "A what?" said I/"Well, yer at the ‘Char House’…pull up a CHAR!" That, my friends, is funny s#it to me.) Karaoke was sung. And really cool semi-sober banter was engaged in. All told, not a bad way to spend a Tuesday. It was cool, b/c last night and Sunday were so chore-centric and dull that being around friends really made things nicer.

And this was all during one of the crappiest slipperiest snow storms we’ve had all winter.
Anyway, what have we learned today?

1-Mancini’s is a fun-a$$ed bar. Not too loud.+ Comfy seats + And Sexy Singing Seniors (My demographic*)
2-Showtunes sung at karaoke will always draw blank stares. And the background music will always be a half beat behind the soundtrack. Always. I should have stuck with "My Fair Lady"
3-During slippery snowstorms Shakopee=Egypt. And I will always get stuck behind two semi’s driving tandem in both lanes. Going so re-dicklously slow probably saved my life.
4-Redwright gets all my love and positive vibes. Every ounce I can muster.
5-Funny sound bite: "I’m not a tenor anymore". "None of us are tenor’s anymore". Am I the only guy who thinks that sounds strangely profound?
6-The "insert name brand" Power Protein Bar in Cookie Dough= Ass. Do not eat. Big thumbs down. Eating it was like a sick "Fear Factor" dare.**
7-Apparently I picked a good color scheme for the new roomies room. HAH. Take THAT interior designers! Webelos Yellow and Blue is a PERFECT match! Lil' Cub Scout humor there, y'all. Pay me no mind.
8-Yes. I did have that conversation the other day with the ski slope lady (re: "5-6 inches") Yes, she did hang up.

All the equal signs and plus signs you’d think I was trying to teach y’all math or something.

*Funny story about seniors. I was talking to a friend who mentioned the same female several times in the course of our conversations. It prompted me to ask :

"So, is she your special lady friend?"
"Dear God no, she’s 70 years old."
"Well hey, if that’s your thing, far be it for me to judge."
You had to be there.

**This is coming from someone who, as a kid, could eat an entire tube of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. The mere fact that I didn’t obtain Salmonella is miraculous. Although, I do like Salmon an awful lot. Hmmmmmmm