1. How old do you wish you were?
10…when my brain rank was number 1
2. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
Phone call waking me up by my roommate who I thought was waking me up not to forget a temp agency interview. It wasn’t. "Oh my GOD! Turn on the TV!"
3. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse
4. Do you consider yourself kind?
Kind of off center, yeah.
5. If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?
Kanji for "No". It beats the kanji for "It seemed like a good idea at the time"
6. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
I’d be a polyglot: Arabic, Japanese, Chinese, Hindi, Farsi, German, Spanish, Italian, and Frenchville.
7. Do you know your neighbors?Fuck yeah. I helped organize National Night Out, doi!
8. What do you consider a vacation?Away…and sometimes home
9. Do you follow your horoscope?
Somedays
10. Would you move for the person you loved?
Not until I’ve built up enough equity.
11. Are you touchy feely?
Yeah. Restraining orders pending.
12. Do you believe that opposites attract?
Sure. And same-ah-sites.
13. Dream job?
Actor
14. Favorite channels?
English
15. Favorite place to go on a weekend?
Out
16. Showers or bath?
Shower.
17. Do you paint your nails?
Just so that they blend in to the wood, yeah.
18. Do you trust people easily?
Easily yes. Fully…not so much
19. What are your phobias?
Deep Deep sea beasties like sharks. Shipwrecks. Driving through golf courses and a wayward ball is gonna break my window. Losing my house. Ugh…crap.
20. Do you want kids?
Not really
21. Do you keep a handwritten journal?
Not since 1996?
22. Where would you rather be right now?
Travelling
23. What makes you feel warm and safe?
A nice mocha at a coffee shop with a good book
24. Heavy or light sleep?
When I do, it’s usually light.
25. Are you paranoid?
I’m self-aware, self-conscious, and hyper-ass empathetic…so it probably reads as P-noid.
26. Are you impatient?
No
27. Who can you relate to?
Everyone. I’m a relater.
28. How do you feel about interracial couples?
Life shouldn’t be a race.
29. Have you been burned by love?
Burned, Drawn, Quartered, Eviscerated. Kicked in the Gonads, Knocked over, fat paddled, branded, taken to the all-you-can-eat buffet and then told to wait in the car on a summer day with nothing other than a sippy cup fulla warm Kool-Aid to get me by…But I’ve been in love, and when you’re there?
It’s fan-fucking-tastic.
30. What's your life motto?
Nosce Te Ipsum: Know Thyself
31. What's your main ringtone on your mobile?
Moses and I have named it "The coolest guy in Minneapolis" Theme Song
32. What were you doing at midnight last night?Passed out, waiting to wake myself up for a 3 hour bout of insomnia.
33. Who was your last text message from?
Mo-peppa
34. Whose bed did you sleep in last night?My own.
35. What color shirt are you wearing?
Dark blue pollo shirt
36. Most recent movie you watched?
Still struggling through "Kingdom of Heaven"/4 episodes of South Park Season 6
37. Name five things you have on you at all times?
Stick of Carmex, Wallet, Cell Phone, Ichi-yen necklace, Keys…Spider Man Costume
38. What color are your bed sheets?
White, with a merlot colored duvet cover over my down comforter…It’s a king. And it’s YUGE!39. How much cash do you have on you right now?
Nicht so viel. Ich habe keine geld.
40. What is your favorite part of the chicken?
GRILLED OR BROILED CHICKY BOOBIES!
41. What is your favorite town/city?
San Fran and NYC for their unique energies. 4 corners for the solace. Drawn to the SW, I am.
42. I can't wait till...I get my black belt. I can fly to Europe again…(More immediately, to get to Ren Fest and the State Fair)
43. Who got you to join Blogger?
Kaiser. I got tired of waiting for his non-existent blogs so I started my own douche-y one.
44. What did you have for dinner last night?
Lord. Chinese (Steamed Chicken with Mixed Veggies) Again…with loving and once absent friends. (ooooo, softy)
45. How tall are you barefoot?
5’10"…In heels, I’m 7’11"
46. Have you ever smoked crack?
I’ve cracked smoke with my bare hands…I’m deadly. (And why are they starting with f#cking crack, anyway? They don’t say "Booze", "High Powered Painkillers", "Pot", "Banana Peels", etc.? They skip straight to crack. Ambitious question, number 46…I’ll give you that.
47. Do you own a gun?
Two! (Kisses each arm) I’m lucky they let me in my office, baby. (EYES! Roll’em if you got’em…)
48. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Coffee, OJ, Water…in no particular order.
49. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
An incredibly vast array of all-new old cheap lines which briefly affords me the momentary air of charm...before the booze or roofies kick in. Then you’re stuck, ladies.
50. Do you have A.D.D?
Well, I guess I’m kind of flibbertygib…HEY! KITTENS!!!!
51. What time did you wake up today?3am, then 6:45am, then 7:15am…
52. Current worry?
Getting out of debt and other private matters.
53. Current hate?
It will all be over soon…I promise you…I know that Biggie. I really do. I trust you implicitly.
54. Favorite place to be?
Eating really good food with my friends around my patio.
55. Where would you like to travel?
Franceville, and then hitting Florence…birthplace of the Renaissance. Oh fuck…I’m excited.
56. Where do you think you'll be in 10 years?
Closer to fine?
57. Last thing you ate?
Leftover Chinese. I still don’t know how I used to be able to eat an entire plate of that shit. I can barely get through half nowadays.
58. Song you sing in the shower?
Showtunes, probably. Or something with "Frassy Pamping" substituted as the lyrics.
59. Last person that made you laugh?
Myself. I’m almost always laughing at my dumb butt self. (Last night, Mo and Linz made me nearly vomit laughing)
60. Worst injury you ever had?
Physical? Not much. I’m nigh on invulnerable in a lucky sort of way. Outside of a variety of cuts, gashes, abrasions, bruises, burns-some pretty bad, Broken nose, bruised rib (RSvP Love Tap) Getting my bell rung pretty hard during sparring, wind knocked out of me, frassy back, bruised coxcis, pulled hammies, frassy hips, soreness to the point of being immobile, scratched cornea, nail through the bottom of my foot, hit by two ten speeds, subsequent high impact with a wooden phone pole, face nearly bit off by a dog. Arm nearly taken off by a wooden dowel wrapped in foam, kicked super hard in the gonads, concussed a few times, hyper-extended my elbow
The worst one though? Heartbreak. I’d take all of those owies combined to be rid of ever having that sense memory, ever again. Ick.
61. Does someone have a crush on you?
Many wish to crush me. (It's pretty doubtful...I'd know. And really, I leave a bad taste in your mouth, much like an accidental spritz of Aussie Sprunch Hairspray in your hair, circa 1989)
62. What is your favorite candy?
Don’t really have one.
63. Favorite erogenous zone?
My brain. Make me laugh, yo.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Monday, August 28, 2006
Yeah...you go baby. Home Depot is winning.
There. I said it. None, I repeat, NO project got completed this weekend. Why, pray tell? What did Mikey do, you ask, with his solo weekend?
Nada. Nothing. No workouts, No mowing, no mulch laying, no edging installations...zilch.
Well, scratch that bit. A smidge.
Friday= Was supposed to meet a friend for cocktails after her shift ended. I got dressed, headed downstairs to wait for a phone call. When 10pm rolled around, I started reading...then snnnnnzzkkzzk.
I woke up at midnight to see that she'd called to say her shift ended way late and she went home to bed. I'm off the hook, hookers.
Sats= I spent the whoooooooooole day cleaning my house to prepare for the arrival of the 'Beans mom. Top- to- bottom. For future reference, y'all? It takes approximately 2.5 hours to dust/clean the hardwood surfaces which includes moving furniture. Another 2 to clean the windows. I gave some thought to going out and catching a film, but opted to rent a couple O' DVD's instead. ("Layer Cake"= Awesome. "Kingdom of Heaven"= bo-ring. If I want to watch a film about the Crusades, I'll re-rent Terry Jones BBC documentary.) I was going to hit the Dakota Jazz Club around 11pm and watch my friend Adam play their "free set", so as I struggled through "Kingdom" I started dozing again.
Taking it as a sign, I went to take a power-nap so I had some energy for later when BOOM!
3:30 am.
Wide awake.
So I went downstairs and chopped veggies for an omelette, had a glass of wine, and picked up a book. Then watched some more "Kingdom of Douchedom". Before finally succumbing to sleep around 6am.
Waking later on Sunday, I was super excited at the prospect of omelettes. 'Bean woke me up with a call of "Are you Decent?!" And I replied: "Jellybean...I'm NEVER decent" which was as good of a response as any to segue into my introduction to his mom. And boy howdy, is she Texan. Tan, twinkly eyes, bright blue t-shirt, white jeans, white canvas shoes....and one of those gold-coiny looking rope belts. No s#it. She was darling, and she gifted us a bottle of Italian red wine.
Instead of omelettes, I spaced out "Dim Sum" breakfast I had planned with the Thorne's et. al, which was in...ohhh, 10 minutes. How I remembered without 'Peppa is beyond me. So breakfast went until 1pm. I come home and DAD calls which was another 2.5 hours on the phone. (He was giving me the 411 as to who I should vote for Hennepin County Sheriff. And that was just the 1st hour, kittens.) Which meant my afternoon was gone before I needed to head over to the No Refunds Theatre Congratulatory dinner @ the New Chatterbox Pub in Saint Paul. Good Times. Free wine. Good food. And a be-kilted Shinobi-Wan schooling us at freeplay cricket.
Then home. A Mo-visit to recount her road trip...then bed.
So FeeJ and the Thorne's are CLEARLY the winners when it comes to home projects.
I just plain suck in the most unmotivational way. Boo.
Nada. Nothing. No workouts, No mowing, no mulch laying, no edging installations...zilch.
Well, scratch that bit. A smidge.
Friday= Was supposed to meet a friend for cocktails after her shift ended. I got dressed, headed downstairs to wait for a phone call. When 10pm rolled around, I started reading...then snnnnnzzkkzzk.
I woke up at midnight to see that she'd called to say her shift ended way late and she went home to bed. I'm off the hook, hookers.
Sats= I spent the whoooooooooole day cleaning my house to prepare for the arrival of the 'Beans mom. Top- to- bottom. For future reference, y'all? It takes approximately 2.5 hours to dust/clean the hardwood surfaces which includes moving furniture. Another 2 to clean the windows. I gave some thought to going out and catching a film, but opted to rent a couple O' DVD's instead. ("Layer Cake"= Awesome. "Kingdom of Heaven"= bo-ring. If I want to watch a film about the Crusades, I'll re-rent Terry Jones BBC documentary.) I was going to hit the Dakota Jazz Club around 11pm and watch my friend Adam play their "free set", so as I struggled through "Kingdom" I started dozing again.
Taking it as a sign, I went to take a power-nap so I had some energy for later when BOOM!
3:30 am.
Wide awake.
So I went downstairs and chopped veggies for an omelette, had a glass of wine, and picked up a book. Then watched some more "Kingdom of Douchedom". Before finally succumbing to sleep around 6am.
Waking later on Sunday, I was super excited at the prospect of omelettes. 'Bean woke me up with a call of "Are you Decent?!" And I replied: "Jellybean...I'm NEVER decent" which was as good of a response as any to segue into my introduction to his mom. And boy howdy, is she Texan. Tan, twinkly eyes, bright blue t-shirt, white jeans, white canvas shoes....and one of those gold-coiny looking rope belts. No s#it. She was darling, and she gifted us a bottle of Italian red wine.
Instead of omelettes, I spaced out "Dim Sum" breakfast I had planned with the Thorne's et. al, which was in...ohhh, 10 minutes. How I remembered without 'Peppa is beyond me. So breakfast went until 1pm. I come home and DAD calls which was another 2.5 hours on the phone. (He was giving me the 411 as to who I should vote for Hennepin County Sheriff. And that was just the 1st hour, kittens.) Which meant my afternoon was gone before I needed to head over to the No Refunds Theatre Congratulatory dinner @ the New Chatterbox Pub in Saint Paul. Good Times. Free wine. Good food. And a be-kilted Shinobi-Wan schooling us at freeplay cricket.
Then home. A Mo-visit to recount her road trip...then bed.
So FeeJ and the Thorne's are CLEARLY the winners when it comes to home projects.
I just plain suck in the most unmotivational way. Boo.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
What...the?
It's funny how all the fires that come up at work don't ever get a rise out of me, but the little things can just bite my balls. Today-
I'm going to toss my leftover Chinese in the break room fridge, only to find it full. Now, I get to work at 7 am-ish so it has NEVER been a problem to sneak a corner to stash my vittles. But SOME thinking mo-fo felt the pressing need to cram a 24 pack of water in the fridge. So everyone else has to contend with their inconsideration!
"I think that's just rude" exclaimed a woman standing next to the fridge with a disdainful look on her face.
"Rude? You haven't heard the stream of profanity I want to utter right now. What, The, Fu..."
So. I pulled that shit out and set it on the top of the fridge. B#tches. Between that, and the people who leave their cream cheese in there for weeks with a little no "Oh please, pleeeeease don't throw away my cream cheese for my daily bagel. Pleeeeeease" even THOUGH the sign on the fridge CuhLEARLY states "We will throw away your shit after 5pm EVERY Friday if you leave it in the refrigerator." (We had some problems with mold, see. ) People, Please! You are defying the simple rules that GE has set down! I don't see any cots? Or tasteful couches and coffee tables. I don't see a coffee machine?
This is not-you-HOUSE! Stop bringing TWO GALLONS of MILK and leaving it in there all week! You're using up your 5X5 square inch allotment that has been allowed by management! Stop bringing in your Hefty Hefty Cinch Sacks to cart your FOOD in!
Seriously. 150 work on this floor, and we have one teeny fridgey fridgey buck-buck to work with. A little consideration, people.
In other news, steamed mixed veggies with tofu is actually pretty good. Makes for WONderful leftovers.
I'm going to toss my leftover Chinese in the break room fridge, only to find it full. Now, I get to work at 7 am-ish so it has NEVER been a problem to sneak a corner to stash my vittles. But SOME thinking mo-fo felt the pressing need to cram a 24 pack of water in the fridge. So everyone else has to contend with their inconsideration!
"I think that's just rude" exclaimed a woman standing next to the fridge with a disdainful look on her face.
"Rude? You haven't heard the stream of profanity I want to utter right now. What, The, Fu..."
So. I pulled that shit out and set it on the top of the fridge. B#tches. Between that, and the people who leave their cream cheese in there for weeks with a little no "Oh please, pleeeeease don't throw away my cream cheese for my daily bagel. Pleeeeeease" even THOUGH the sign on the fridge CuhLEARLY states "We will throw away your shit after 5pm EVERY Friday if you leave it in the refrigerator." (We had some problems with mold, see. ) People, Please! You are defying the simple rules that GE has set down! I don't see any cots? Or tasteful couches and coffee tables. I don't see a coffee machine?
This is not-you-HOUSE! Stop bringing TWO GALLONS of MILK and leaving it in there all week! You're using up your 5X5 square inch allotment that has been allowed by management! Stop bringing in your Hefty Hefty Cinch Sacks to cart your FOOD in!
Seriously. 150 work on this floor, and we have one teeny fridgey fridgey buck-buck to work with. A little consideration, people.
In other news, steamed mixed veggies with tofu is actually pretty good. Makes for WONderful leftovers.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Day...bidet
Lawnmowers run much better when there is gas innem. IJS.
Friday I came home to a pleasant surprise: My camera phone. wOOt technology. Prepare yourselves for some lascivious photo's. The world is a dirty place when seen through my eyes.
(And I proceeded in slicing my fingers open trying to pry my old tricorder cell phone apart to get the fucking SIM card out.)
Mo-peppa came over and I gifted her (In spite of the fact that it was a day early. I'm impatient. Shup) And the 'Bean was kind enough to give us an invite to see Debbie Duncan and Dennis Spears perform together at Sophia. They were phenom- We et, Danced, and went for a leisurely stroll over to Nicollet Island where we considered crashing a wedding ("I bet there's free booze in there") and saw 1,000's of fat spiders idling on the bridge...That, I'll admit, was freaky. And I don't even mind spider's.
Saturday- It's "Mo's Day" as I was reminded throughout the day, therefore we do "Mo things" including:
Reading and Relaxing at the Wilde Roast over mocha's
Hitting the Mipples Library to return some s#it and see if they have a copy of "Freakanomics" (There's a 4 week wait until the next available copy)
Midtown Global Market for lunch. (You should all go. We danced to African rhythms. Stay away from the Thai. Boo for onions)
Walking around Minnehaha Falls. (Many pampied children and weddings. If you know someone who was married there and a half naked dude winds up in their photo's- blame me)
Shopping for her evening outfit at Calhoun Square. (WTF Happened to that place, btw?)
Then napping, to prepare our bodies for the evenings event:
Psycho Suzi's (I gave Rik Reppe my S.O.'s phone number. Does that seem weird?)
Nye's (Paint thinner is weaker than the cocktails at Nye's)
Finished with dancing at the Froooont (I was accosted by a woman dressed as Hamburgler. No lie)
Thanks to everyone who came out to play. You made it an awesome night.
Sunday I poured a cement sidewalk. Which was a bitch. I'm all over sore today. And it still looks like shit. But...I'm done. That was "The big project of '06". After that I was pretty wiped, HOWEVER I had another big kid birthday to attend so my shout out to Magrooders! Happy B'day, sweetness!*
And finally...I watched "Brokeback Mounting". It was good and all, but for the life of me I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. I thought Michelle Williams was pretty awesome.
*I would like to point out for the record that whenever I go over to Redwrights for a party, 2 things almost ALways happen:
1) I eat, waaaaaay too much. Yes. Way too much. It's, like 10 a.m. now and I still feel like I'm stuffed to my trachea. A Boca burger, pasta, hamburger patty (Yeah, that's what I think did it to me. Vom) Annnnnnnd, hovering for a half hour over the spinach artichoke dip (And the salmon artichoke spread that was right next to it) Makes for a very unhappy Baby P.
2) I forget something. July 4th it was my cowboy hat. Yesterday it was my man-satchel. Complete with work ID, and wallet. Not fun. Booooooo....
Friday I came home to a pleasant surprise: My camera phone. wOOt technology. Prepare yourselves for some lascivious photo's. The world is a dirty place when seen through my eyes.
(And I proceeded in slicing my fingers open trying to pry my old tricorder cell phone apart to get the fucking SIM card out.)
Mo-peppa came over and I gifted her (In spite of the fact that it was a day early. I'm impatient. Shup) And the 'Bean was kind enough to give us an invite to see Debbie Duncan and Dennis Spears perform together at Sophia. They were phenom- We et, Danced, and went for a leisurely stroll over to Nicollet Island where we considered crashing a wedding ("I bet there's free booze in there") and saw 1,000's of fat spiders idling on the bridge...That, I'll admit, was freaky. And I don't even mind spider's.
Saturday- It's "Mo's Day" as I was reminded throughout the day, therefore we do "Mo things" including:
Reading and Relaxing at the Wilde Roast over mocha's
Hitting the Mipples Library to return some s#it and see if they have a copy of "Freakanomics" (There's a 4 week wait until the next available copy)
Midtown Global Market for lunch. (You should all go. We danced to African rhythms. Stay away from the Thai. Boo for onions)
Walking around Minnehaha Falls. (Many pampied children and weddings. If you know someone who was married there and a half naked dude winds up in their photo's- blame me)
Shopping for her evening outfit at Calhoun Square. (WTF Happened to that place, btw?)
Then napping, to prepare our bodies for the evenings event:
Psycho Suzi's (I gave Rik Reppe my S.O.'s phone number. Does that seem weird?)
Nye's (Paint thinner is weaker than the cocktails at Nye's)
Finished with dancing at the Froooont (I was accosted by a woman dressed as Hamburgler. No lie)
Thanks to everyone who came out to play. You made it an awesome night.
Sunday I poured a cement sidewalk. Which was a bitch. I'm all over sore today. And it still looks like shit. But...I'm done. That was "The big project of '06". After that I was pretty wiped, HOWEVER I had another big kid birthday to attend so my shout out to Magrooders! Happy B'day, sweetness!*
And finally...I watched "Brokeback Mounting". It was good and all, but for the life of me I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. I thought Michelle Williams was pretty awesome.
*I would like to point out for the record that whenever I go over to Redwrights for a party, 2 things almost ALways happen:
1) I eat, waaaaaay too much. Yes. Way too much. It's, like 10 a.m. now and I still feel like I'm stuffed to my trachea. A Boca burger, pasta, hamburger patty (Yeah, that's what I think did it to me. Vom) Annnnnnnd, hovering for a half hour over the spinach artichoke dip (And the salmon artichoke spread that was right next to it) Makes for a very unhappy Baby P.
2) I forget something. July 4th it was my cowboy hat. Yesterday it was my man-satchel. Complete with work ID, and wallet. Not fun. Booooooo....
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Haaaaaapy BIRTHDAY!
To Dorajar/Moped/Peppa-pants/Prrrrty Petunia/Beautiful Branch/Pseudo Hippy
MO!
A birthday rap, for the girl who did a Christian Rap at the Fringe. (And is now part of her dad's "Arsenal")
Here's a birthday rap, for my friend "Mo-Mo"
Who turns 25 on this day, you know/
People call her a hippy, 'cause she's social, smart, and keen
And she owns a denim napkin when she likes to be seen/
She's a wanderlusty rambler who is always on the move,
But she'll throw you out a punchdown when she's getting on her groove/
She's the phenomenalist woman in the U.S. and world,
So I thought I'd rap some love, to the birthday girl...
Word
Love ya Mo-seph! Happy Birthday, and many happy returns!
(Go to Suzi's Psycho 2-nite to wish her a happy happy and buy her a drink, if'n ya feel like it!)
MO!
A birthday rap, for the girl who did a Christian Rap at the Fringe. (And is now part of her dad's "Arsenal")
Here's a birthday rap, for my friend "Mo-Mo"
Who turns 25 on this day, you know/
People call her a hippy, 'cause she's social, smart, and keen
And she owns a denim napkin when she likes to be seen/
She's a wanderlusty rambler who is always on the move,
But she'll throw you out a punchdown when she's getting on her groove/
She's the phenomenalist woman in the U.S. and world,
So I thought I'd rap some love, to the birthday girl...
Word
Love ya Mo-seph! Happy Birthday, and many happy returns!
(Go to Suzi's Psycho 2-nite to wish her a happy happy and buy her a drink, if'n ya feel like it!)
Friday, August 18, 2006
Please interpret...
My dream last night...ahem:
I was hanging out with Peppa (And a bunch of hot lesbians. Okay, so in my dream they are really attractive) in the upstairs living room of a suburban split level 2 story. Outside of the bay front window, a remote controlled helicopter deal with camera goes by with the KARE 11 logo on it. Apparently, the news stations uses it to get video recording of neighborhood news stories. As it flies by the bay window, the lesbians start flashing the camera.
This is all well and good, but I realize that I have to clean out some dusty books in my parents cabin. (Except, it's more along the lines of a gabled roof log cabin) I need to use the toilet, and before hand I wipe the seat with almost an entire roll of toilet paper. No idea why this was a good idea. I'm dreaming. I know I'm gonna have to clean out the terlet (A prospect I'm not relishing) but rather than do the Egyptian thing and shove my hand in there I'm bound and determined to get some rubber gloves on.
Heading downstairs, I get called outside by my mom who needs me to go through a box of GI Joe figures (The old 12 inch "dolls") and help match up the missing arms with the correct "Joe" (See, the old figures in the 60's had detachable arms) We're going through the box matching the bionic Joe arms to the bionic Joe body, when Ro comes over with his hands clasped behind his back and two GI Joe arms taped to his shoulders (Giving the appearance of having wee lil' arms.) in an attempt to be funny. I only think it's funny because he's taped two left arms to himself and not an appropriate left and right arm. What's more, I notice that I have the match to one of his arms.
Then I'm back inside wondering if I can just flush the remnants down and, woop, no go. BUT enough of the TP has gone down the drain that it shouldn't be too daunting to (ugh) reach in and get the rest. I realize I don't have gloves on but I think in my dream state that I can just, reach in quick like and throw the wet toiletty TeeP's away without too much poopy water infection.
Then I'm outside, by my car, in the early twilight a.m. and I see some teen kids (vandals and miscreants for sure) trying to hop over my fence into the back yard. I'm crouched behind the bumper and before they can try to get in I SPRING out and say "YEAAAARRRRGH" shaking my hands above me and just screaming bloody murder...all the while the kids are scrambling away, running, screaming. And I feel satisfied that for once, in my dreamstate, I was able to chase ne'er do wells off as opposed to feeling powerless to stop them. (ex: Moving in slo mo during a fight)
I was hanging out with Peppa (And a bunch of hot lesbians. Okay, so in my dream they are really attractive) in the upstairs living room of a suburban split level 2 story. Outside of the bay front window, a remote controlled helicopter deal with camera goes by with the KARE 11 logo on it. Apparently, the news stations uses it to get video recording of neighborhood news stories. As it flies by the bay window, the lesbians start flashing the camera.
This is all well and good, but I realize that I have to clean out some dusty books in my parents cabin. (Except, it's more along the lines of a gabled roof log cabin) I need to use the toilet, and before hand I wipe the seat with almost an entire roll of toilet paper. No idea why this was a good idea. I'm dreaming. I know I'm gonna have to clean out the terlet (A prospect I'm not relishing) but rather than do the Egyptian thing and shove my hand in there I'm bound and determined to get some rubber gloves on.
Heading downstairs, I get called outside by my mom who needs me to go through a box of GI Joe figures (The old 12 inch "dolls") and help match up the missing arms with the correct "Joe" (See, the old figures in the 60's had detachable arms) We're going through the box matching the bionic Joe arms to the bionic Joe body, when Ro comes over with his hands clasped behind his back and two GI Joe arms taped to his shoulders (Giving the appearance of having wee lil' arms.) in an attempt to be funny. I only think it's funny because he's taped two left arms to himself and not an appropriate left and right arm. What's more, I notice that I have the match to one of his arms.
Then I'm back inside wondering if I can just flush the remnants down and, woop, no go. BUT enough of the TP has gone down the drain that it shouldn't be too daunting to (ugh) reach in and get the rest. I realize I don't have gloves on but I think in my dream state that I can just, reach in quick like and throw the wet toiletty TeeP's away without too much poopy water infection.
Then I'm outside, by my car, in the early twilight a.m. and I see some teen kids (vandals and miscreants for sure) trying to hop over my fence into the back yard. I'm crouched behind the bumper and before they can try to get in I SPRING out and say "YEAAAARRRRGH" shaking my hands above me and just screaming bloody murder...all the while the kids are scrambling away, running, screaming. And I feel satisfied that for once, in my dreamstate, I was able to chase ne'er do wells off as opposed to feeling powerless to stop them. (ex: Moving in slo mo during a fight)
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Amazing I'm not fired...
I just told an associate manager (read: Big Wig Corporate Mucky Muck) that he was wearing a "prison tie". Black and white horizontal stripes going up and down. He laughed.
Doubtful he would have laughed if I called it a "Hamburgler Tie", followed with a shout of "ROBBLE ROBBLE!"
Or if I started singing "Les Mis" in his general direction.."Who am IIIIIIII? I'm TWO FOUR SIX OH OOOOOONNNNNNEEEEE!"
No. Not weird at all. Perfectly adaptable in corporate environs. Carry on.
Doubtful he would have laughed if I called it a "Hamburgler Tie", followed with a shout of "ROBBLE ROBBLE!"
Or if I started singing "Les Mis" in his general direction.."Who am IIIIIIII? I'm TWO FOUR SIX OH OOOOOONNNNNNEEEEE!"
No. Not weird at all. Perfectly adaptable in corporate environs. Carry on.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Of Frass and Frrreeeeeinge
If my voice was absent these past few days it was largely due to that raucous party known to all as The Fringe Vegetable. By my own admission, I’m a turrible Fringer (Always starting the run with the intent of seeing boo-too shows, and then wind up barely seeing a skinny handful. My bad.) This year proved better than years past however in the fact that I was actually able to get out and enjoy the Fringe atmosphere. 1st time in, ohhhhh, 3 years I’d wager? Hmmmmmm. Funny that, eh? AND armed with a Fringe bu’on and artist pass (Always funny, seeing that. Makes me feel all artsy) there was really no reason I couldn’t go. I just…didn’t? Fringe induced narcolepsy tends to about these 10 days: Sometimes a result of seeing a lot of shows, seeing bad shows, crowds, working on your own show. It’s maddening. Which also meant I spent the better part of the weekend in a partly to mostly catatonic state. Not even drink induced.
A recap:
Frids: Moped bopped over after doing her Fringe Hippying and we snarfed Curry b4 she spit the bit for more Fringeness. I…stayed in and read.
Sats: More depot trips. Spent some cat time at Rosackers. (Their store kitty is super cute…albeit incredibly gassy. I’m not kidding. Scientests, take note: That cat’s ass should be treated as a renewable fuel source!) After a quick clean up at home, we took a little side trip to go purchase…the prop.
I don’t know what inspired me to go this route for a character. Our show was a free-form lampoon of the Am. Idol series and the only structure I was told was to make up a funny character. On our road trip, I bounced the idea of a redneck cowboy (Do you have any other characters you’d maybe like to try, P?) off of Mopes. The caveat was that instead of singing, ohhhh, country- He’d do a hardcore gangsta rap. Then in the semi-finals something from musical theater (I’ll get to that in a minnit) and then an Italian aria for the final. Get it? Play a type. Play against it. Comic. Gold.
So the NRT boys were cool with it. And opening night I frassed onstage in overalls and did "The Humpty Dance". Woo. Hoo. (Felt re-dickly un-funy for some reason) And here I thought it was a well thought out bit.
Back to the story- Here we were on an overcast Saturday afternoon, in a Fantasy Gifts, perusing banana hammocks. W/Peppa’s helpa, I settled on something that looked like this guy, right here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000C4YT0G/002-0640648-5906444?redirect=true
The sunbitchin’ cashier had to ring my card twice…then call it in. (Let’s not embarrass baby P too badly while waiting to buy his smut) We amused ourselves by looking over the delightful adult genital mold (Not..you know, mildew) kits. Something about dipping my package in plaster of Paris just so my lover has a little C and B paperweight doesn’t sound all that appealing.
After a delicious dinner of angel hair pasta/pesto/shrimp, two shots of tequila, and an iron resolve- I the show and sang "Age of Aquarius" from "Hair".
While taking my clothes off.
‘Cause that’s what they do in that show, dontcha know?
It's just too bad we didn’t have a full house. Or maybe it was better that we didn’t?
Yeah. Prolly better. Methinks I'm not well-suited for hammock work.
We hit the ‘Mad for a post Fringe nightcap and called it an evening. Too much adrenaline wore me out.
Sunday pissed me off. I had started the day with the only intention of laying some concrete when KA-boom…all day rain. All. Day. (Does anyone else hate walking into a store like Cub or Rainbow after it’s rained and your rassin’ frassin’ shoes squeek the entire time you’re in there? Just me, huh?)
We closed. (After I receive a cryptic message that a pint was waiting for me at Herks. I had no idea what it meant until I saw Trev-monster holding up the end of the bar) Mom came back along w/Ro and Co and they were thankfully spared the hammock viewing- (Funny thing- Mother chastised me on my choice of "bit")
I came home.
Had marinated chicky boob sammies w/sauteed veggies and discovered that my Grill is persnickety (FAHHHHK!) I do want to encourage y'all to hit the Farmers Market. It’s sick. The veggies look like they were grown at the Alamagordo test site they’re that big. After milling around the house like zombies, we hit the closing night celebration at Joes ‘round 10pm. Which is a pretty good frassin' time all around.
Although I've learned that my car is teh Fooked. (Double FAHK!!!)
Annnnnnnd. I’m looking at having a pretty lame ass start to my evening tonight.
So. Mixed bag of ennui, frass, joy, and embarrassment. Welcome to mid-August campers! And happy Montag!
(In other news? CONGRATs to Tech and Portana who became engaged this weekend! You kids ROCK!)
A recap:
Frids: Moped bopped over after doing her Fringe Hippying and we snarfed Curry b4 she spit the bit for more Fringeness. I…stayed in and read.
Sats: More depot trips. Spent some cat time at Rosackers. (Their store kitty is super cute…albeit incredibly gassy. I’m not kidding. Scientests, take note: That cat’s ass should be treated as a renewable fuel source!) After a quick clean up at home, we took a little side trip to go purchase…the prop.
I don’t know what inspired me to go this route for a character. Our show was a free-form lampoon of the Am. Idol series and the only structure I was told was to make up a funny character. On our road trip, I bounced the idea of a redneck cowboy (Do you have any other characters you’d maybe like to try, P?) off of Mopes. The caveat was that instead of singing, ohhhh, country- He’d do a hardcore gangsta rap. Then in the semi-finals something from musical theater (I’ll get to that in a minnit) and then an Italian aria for the final. Get it? Play a type. Play against it. Comic. Gold.
So the NRT boys were cool with it. And opening night I frassed onstage in overalls and did "The Humpty Dance". Woo. Hoo. (Felt re-dickly un-funy for some reason) And here I thought it was a well thought out bit.
Back to the story- Here we were on an overcast Saturday afternoon, in a Fantasy Gifts, perusing banana hammocks. W/Peppa’s helpa, I settled on something that looked like this guy, right here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000C4YT0G/002-0640648-5906444?redirect=true
The sunbitchin’ cashier had to ring my card twice…then call it in. (Let’s not embarrass baby P too badly while waiting to buy his smut) We amused ourselves by looking over the delightful adult genital mold (Not..you know, mildew) kits. Something about dipping my package in plaster of Paris just so my lover has a little C and B paperweight doesn’t sound all that appealing.
After a delicious dinner of angel hair pasta/pesto/shrimp, two shots of tequila, and an iron resolve- I the show and sang "Age of Aquarius" from "Hair".
While taking my clothes off.
‘Cause that’s what they do in that show, dontcha know?
It's just too bad we didn’t have a full house. Or maybe it was better that we didn’t?
Yeah. Prolly better. Methinks I'm not well-suited for hammock work.
We hit the ‘Mad for a post Fringe nightcap and called it an evening. Too much adrenaline wore me out.
Sunday pissed me off. I had started the day with the only intention of laying some concrete when KA-boom…all day rain. All. Day. (Does anyone else hate walking into a store like Cub or Rainbow after it’s rained and your rassin’ frassin’ shoes squeek the entire time you’re in there? Just me, huh?)
We closed. (After I receive a cryptic message that a pint was waiting for me at Herks. I had no idea what it meant until I saw Trev-monster holding up the end of the bar) Mom came back along w/Ro and Co and they were thankfully spared the hammock viewing- (Funny thing- Mother chastised me on my choice of "bit")
I came home.
Had marinated chicky boob sammies w/sauteed veggies and discovered that my Grill is persnickety (FAHHHHK!) I do want to encourage y'all to hit the Farmers Market. It’s sick. The veggies look like they were grown at the Alamagordo test site they’re that big. After milling around the house like zombies, we hit the closing night celebration at Joes ‘round 10pm. Which is a pretty good frassin' time all around.
Although I've learned that my car is teh Fooked. (Double FAHK!!!)
Annnnnnnd. I’m looking at having a pretty lame ass start to my evening tonight.
So. Mixed bag of ennui, frass, joy, and embarrassment. Welcome to mid-August campers! And happy Montag!
(In other news? CONGRATs to Tech and Portana who became engaged this weekend! You kids ROCK!)
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Quick Notes
Note to self: "4.5 minutes is a little too long to put your soup in the 'wave."
Not to lips and roof of mouth?:
Sorry... : (
Not to lips and roof of mouth?:
Sorry... : (
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
IN-teresting...
Hmmmm. Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm...
http://www.startribune.com/789/story/604727.html
Children learn what they live, I guess.
http://www.startribune.com/789/story/604727.html
Children learn what they live, I guess.
Delightful Bathroom
They installed this great deodorizer in the 2nd floor terlet here at work.
Really smells nice.
The little things, you know?
Really smells nice.
The little things, you know?
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Dare me...
To eat that new BK Quad Stacker. 4 meat patties. Cheese. 8 (count'em) 8 strips of bacon.
Yeesh. It seems like a "Simpson's" joke.
I think I'll hit up the Holy Land Buffet instead.
Yeesh. It seems like a "Simpson's" joke.
I think I'll hit up the Holy Land Buffet instead.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Won't be joining the Mason's anytime soon...
I tried my hand at cement mixing/pouring to extend my North side walkway into the patio.
In regards to mixing it? Let's just say that shit ain't oatmeal, dig?
And the amount I mixed? Four 50 lbs bags. Per normal...I grossly underestimated the # of bags I'll need. 16 more 50 lbs. bags I'd wager. That's only 800 more pounds.
My ribs hurt from trying to stir that crap.
Crap. I'm such a maroon.
In regards to mixing it? Let's just say that shit ain't oatmeal, dig?
And the amount I mixed? Four 50 lbs bags. Per normal...I grossly underestimated the # of bags I'll need. 16 more 50 lbs. bags I'd wager. That's only 800 more pounds.
My ribs hurt from trying to stir that crap.
Crap. I'm such a maroon.
Friday, August 04, 2006
It's that time, Fringer's
This is where I peeeemp my show. And the lil' diva inside me'll highlight the shows I'll be in...and a special star by the banana hammock show. I'm playing a guy named Garret Seaver...a cowboy with unusual singing talents.
From the good folks who brought you past Fringe successes Kung Fu Hamlet, 8/7 Central, and Zombiemania comes:
Project: Twin Cities American Next Top Idol Search!
Presented by No Refunds Theatre Co.
NEVER THE SAME SHOW TWICE! This summer, at the Minnesota Fringe Festival, contestants from around the world will compete for the chance to be the next No Refunds Superstar, and win ONE HUNDRED MILLION BAJILLION DOLLARS! See these starry eyed hopefuls conquer scientifically designed performance challenges that will transform your thoughts into happy emoticons! Each episodic performance welcomes a new crop of contestants; the winners advance to the semi-finals, and the losers are put to death! No matter who wins…we keep your money.
All performances at Intermedia Farts- A scent free venue
Saturday 8/5 at 7:00 PM
Sunday 8/6 at 10:00 PM
Thursday 8/10 at 5:30 PM
Saturday 8/12 at 10:00 PM *
Sunday 8/13 at 4:00 PM
From the good folks who brought you past Fringe successes Kung Fu Hamlet, 8/7 Central, and Zombiemania comes:
Project: Twin Cities American Next Top Idol Search!
Presented by No Refunds Theatre Co.
NEVER THE SAME SHOW TWICE! This summer, at the Minnesota Fringe Festival, contestants from around the world will compete for the chance to be the next No Refunds Superstar, and win ONE HUNDRED MILLION BAJILLION DOLLARS! See these starry eyed hopefuls conquer scientifically designed performance challenges that will transform your thoughts into happy emoticons! Each episodic performance welcomes a new crop of contestants; the winners advance to the semi-finals, and the losers are put to death! No matter who wins…we keep your money.
All performances at Intermedia Farts- A scent free venue
Saturday 8/5 at 7:00 PM
Sunday 8/6 at 10:00 PM
Thursday 8/10 at 5:30 PM
Saturday 8/12 at 10:00 PM *
Sunday 8/13 at 4:00 PM
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Yeah...Epic.
I know. I'm regurgitating online. Forgive. 2 more things:
#1-I just helped the ladies in reinsurance remember all of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms. No shit. I'm that guy. Furthermore, I went on to tell them about how I think Cap'N Crunch should be renamed "Toasted Golden Razor Blades" due to the fact that they almost ALWAYS cut the s#it outta the roof of your mouth, and how we used to eat the less 'spensive version of it as kids: King Vitamin. That was some honkey s#it right there, yo.
#2- "Ambassador of Douche". That's just so I remember the term. Way too funny not to share.
#1-I just helped the ladies in reinsurance remember all of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms. No shit. I'm that guy. Furthermore, I went on to tell them about how I think Cap'N Crunch should be renamed "Toasted Golden Razor Blades" due to the fact that they almost ALWAYS cut the s#it outta the roof of your mouth, and how we used to eat the less 'spensive version of it as kids: King Vitamin. That was some honkey s#it right there, yo.
#2- "Ambassador of Douche". That's just so I remember the term. Way too funny not to share.
NNO! What a brother know?
Wow. My roommate is maniacal. Fanatical. Or just...insane?
He's been excited for National Night Out since he read the Audubon Neighborhood News that said you could obtain a free permit if you registered your block b4 July 17. (*Which he didn't. BUT, the man called and hounded 4 different people before they acquiesced and waived the $100 late registry fee. Guys. If you knew 'Bean, you'd understand that it just doesn't fit his M.O.)
He put the bug in our accordian playing neighbors ear that polka music would be a welcome addition. (And subsequently requested that every time I see him, I verify that polka music is still "On". Every. Time) Started ordering up the paperwork needed, obtained permits, papered the neighborhood (Making early a.m. visits up and down the street.) And the guy pretty much refuted all of my offers to lend assistance. (Except that it was all gonna be in my name, and I was to print off 70 copies of "Warning" notices that the street was gonna be blocked off) I saw him outside shakin' hands and introducing himself to our Somali neighbors (Who, I think, I've only threw the casual wave toward in my 1.5 years there) Really? Not the same guy who I rented to in January. And really? It made me smile an awful lot.
On Sunday he was frassin' and bitchin' about the Tuesday night forecast (Hitting the steering wheel: "Gahd. Fahk. It better not rain! No. I hope it rains and then stops, or maybe...maybe it'll rain overnight and be dry the rest of the day?")
And then Tuesday? The thing our lawns and flowers desperately needed but which caused dread and frass in the poor 'Beans soul. Thunder. Boomies. And a forecast of showers. All. Day. Long.
I get home and he's pasted to a weather website ("Hey! This says it'll clear up in 20 minutes!" Followed by "Hey, did you see that the street is flooded?") My mom calls and tells me that her block party was cancelled, and the way the downspouts were over-FuhLOWIN' I was preparing for the same thing.
And then? Something quite strange and wonderful happened. Well, 2...no 3 things.
First- 'Peppa showed up.
Second- His Fredliness and Magrooders came trouncing up the back walkway.
Third- The rain. Stopped. At 7:30pm. Exactly when the 'Bean said it would. (And it didn't start again until well after midnight.)
"I need to borrow your car so we can tie off the barricade" was his halcyon cry. And just like that, the 1st annual Taylor St. Block Party was born. Tables and chairs were set up in the street. People brought out munchies. Beer, Cocktails, and Margarita's served in glasses the size of your head were imbibed. (In spite of our friendly police presence) Nametags were worn. Introductions were made. It was kinda kinda special.
Oh. There was polka. Oh yes. Peppa and I polka'ed which regressed into uncomfortable arms-length junior high dancing. Which got caught on video. Oh, that reminds me, the weirdest of weirds- the Nordeast Paparazzi showing up.
So I go in the house to change and when I go back outside there were the Nordeaster photog's snapping pics and 'Bean is pointing some guy with a microphone and camera at me to answer a couple of questions. (So tune in for the abridged version of baby P telling the good folks on public access why he feels NNO is vital to help build safe communit...yeah I was that guy. And I probably looked bald. And gay.)
So all told, a rather successful evening. Thanks, in part, to one tenacious roommate. I almost feel bad for sealing off his bedroom using the leftover yellow police barricade tape. Almost.
He's been excited for National Night Out since he read the Audubon Neighborhood News that said you could obtain a free permit if you registered your block b4 July 17. (*Which he didn't. BUT, the man called and hounded 4 different people before they acquiesced and waived the $100 late registry fee. Guys. If you knew 'Bean, you'd understand that it just doesn't fit his M.O.)
He put the bug in our accordian playing neighbors ear that polka music would be a welcome addition. (And subsequently requested that every time I see him, I verify that polka music is still "On". Every. Time) Started ordering up the paperwork needed, obtained permits, papered the neighborhood (Making early a.m. visits up and down the street.) And the guy pretty much refuted all of my offers to lend assistance. (Except that it was all gonna be in my name, and I was to print off 70 copies of "Warning" notices that the street was gonna be blocked off) I saw him outside shakin' hands and introducing himself to our Somali neighbors (Who, I think, I've only threw the casual wave toward in my 1.5 years there) Really? Not the same guy who I rented to in January. And really? It made me smile an awful lot.
On Sunday he was frassin' and bitchin' about the Tuesday night forecast (Hitting the steering wheel: "Gahd. Fahk. It better not rain! No. I hope it rains and then stops, or maybe...maybe it'll rain overnight and be dry the rest of the day?")
And then Tuesday? The thing our lawns and flowers desperately needed but which caused dread and frass in the poor 'Beans soul. Thunder. Boomies. And a forecast of showers. All. Day. Long.
I get home and he's pasted to a weather website ("Hey! This says it'll clear up in 20 minutes!" Followed by "Hey, did you see that the street is flooded?") My mom calls and tells me that her block party was cancelled, and the way the downspouts were over-FuhLOWIN' I was preparing for the same thing.
And then? Something quite strange and wonderful happened. Well, 2...no 3 things.
First- 'Peppa showed up.
Second- His Fredliness and Magrooders came trouncing up the back walkway.
Third- The rain. Stopped. At 7:30pm. Exactly when the 'Bean said it would. (And it didn't start again until well after midnight.)
"I need to borrow your car so we can tie off the barricade" was his halcyon cry. And just like that, the 1st annual Taylor St. Block Party was born. Tables and chairs were set up in the street. People brought out munchies. Beer, Cocktails, and Margarita's served in glasses the size of your head were imbibed. (In spite of our friendly police presence) Nametags were worn. Introductions were made. It was kinda kinda special.
Oh. There was polka. Oh yes. Peppa and I polka'ed which regressed into uncomfortable arms-length junior high dancing. Which got caught on video. Oh, that reminds me, the weirdest of weirds- the Nordeast Paparazzi showing up.
So I go in the house to change and when I go back outside there were the Nordeaster photog's snapping pics and 'Bean is pointing some guy with a microphone and camera at me to answer a couple of questions. (So tune in for the abridged version of baby P telling the good folks on public access why he feels NNO is vital to help build safe communit...yeah I was that guy. And I probably looked bald. And gay.)
So all told, a rather successful evening. Thanks, in part, to one tenacious roommate. I almost feel bad for sealing off his bedroom using the leftover yellow police barricade tape. Almost.
Hot ball$!
Hard to say it was an "epic" weekend when you don't wanna set foot in the out of doors. For serial. 110 degree heat index? Oof. The mega hot weather has got my car acting frassy (Apparently, transmission fluid can boil. Therefore, Baby P's car likes to rev up to 4,000 rpm's without going over 30 mph. Fuck. Like taking my car into the shop is something I can get excited about. My tummy turns at the prospect after working so hard to save $. Whine, over.)
So what to do? Same thing we do in it's freezin' ba11s outside- Movie nights for buddies.
Friday- "The Libertine" coupled with Thai veggies and RED curry this time. So adventurous, trying the red and all. Let's see. Johnny Depp. John Malkovich. Period piece. Seemed like a hot ticket. Really, it was kinda "meh". Don't get me wrong, they all acted the heck out of it. And the mood, and the costumes, and the make up, and the lighting (Lit entirely by candles, dontcha know? Fascinating.) da dah da dah da dah. After it was done I said "That felt like it would have been a better play" and sure enough- Based on a play. (Doi, P) Plus, the director douche decided he wanted to shoot it "documentary" style rather sweeping/epic dolly shots like most period films. Shoddy.
Skip it, y'all. Seriously. It isn't an overlooked gem. Even if you want to make wild hot humpies with Mr. Depp.
Sats- I cut my pitifully blonde lawn. More rehearsal. More car vroomy vroomy frass. (Sorry MD, for not making it out to the BBQ. Too hot to move) We snuck in a clandestine visit to the BBP (Thanks Redwright) B4 heading home.
In a sweeping turn of events, Peppa cooked dinner for movie nacht zwei!
The movies: I opted for TV shows this time, promising myself that I'd get caught up on "Fuss" shows. (Or, "What's all the fuss about") "Deadwood: Season 1" and "Da Ali G Show"
The Food: Greek Pasta. (Chicken, Artichoke hearts, olive oil, tomatoes served over penne.)
The food was teh good (Thanks again, Pepps) "Deadwood"? I think I (Or maybe the good peeps at Video Stardom?) fucked up, since I ended up with season 2 and we had a bitch of a time trying to get ourselves involved with these characters and their relationships. It seems like it'd be good? Maybe? Ali G though? Okay. Fine. You win. Funny shit. Couldn't take it. Laughed my a$$ off. Gonna need to see "Borat" now. "My seester is number 2 or number 3 sex in mouth in all of Khazikstan..." Wow.
Sunday was all day frass. 'Bean was kind enough to cart my a$$ to the Depot to load up his loaner truck with mulch (Seriously? That thing is bigger than he is. I mean. He doesn't even come up to the cab) 2 trips. 36 bags. (20 for dad). 4 transplanted tree's. 50 feet of weed barrier. And 1 case of heat stroke. (So. I was hydrating myself. 6pm rolled around and I hit a wall, is all. Did you know when you get heat stroke that birds look like they are flying in slow motion?) We invited ourselves over to the WW ranch for some more float time b4 calling it a night.
Did I mention I finally drug my cottage cheese buns out to run? On Saturday. And Sunday. I am a machine. 100 above or 20 below...I'll f#ck up the mean streets of Nordeast.
Hoo. It was hotter'n a b#tch, though. Hope y'all stayed cool, my babies.
So what to do? Same thing we do in it's freezin' ba11s outside- Movie nights for buddies.
Friday- "The Libertine" coupled with Thai veggies and RED curry this time. So adventurous, trying the red and all. Let's see. Johnny Depp. John Malkovich. Period piece. Seemed like a hot ticket. Really, it was kinda "meh". Don't get me wrong, they all acted the heck out of it. And the mood, and the costumes, and the make up, and the lighting (Lit entirely by candles, dontcha know? Fascinating.) da dah da dah da dah. After it was done I said "That felt like it would have been a better play" and sure enough- Based on a play. (Doi, P) Plus, the director douche decided he wanted to shoot it "documentary" style rather sweeping/epic dolly shots like most period films. Shoddy.
Skip it, y'all. Seriously. It isn't an overlooked gem. Even if you want to make wild hot humpies with Mr. Depp.
Sats- I cut my pitifully blonde lawn. More rehearsal. More car vroomy vroomy frass. (Sorry MD, for not making it out to the BBQ. Too hot to move) We snuck in a clandestine visit to the BBP (Thanks Redwright) B4 heading home.
In a sweeping turn of events, Peppa cooked dinner for movie nacht zwei!
The movies: I opted for TV shows this time, promising myself that I'd get caught up on "Fuss" shows. (Or, "What's all the fuss about") "Deadwood: Season 1" and "Da Ali G Show"
The Food: Greek Pasta. (Chicken, Artichoke hearts, olive oil, tomatoes served over penne.)
The food was teh good (Thanks again, Pepps) "Deadwood"? I think I (Or maybe the good peeps at Video Stardom?) fucked up, since I ended up with season 2 and we had a bitch of a time trying to get ourselves involved with these characters and their relationships. It seems like it'd be good? Maybe? Ali G though? Okay. Fine. You win. Funny shit. Couldn't take it. Laughed my a$$ off. Gonna need to see "Borat" now. "My seester is number 2 or number 3 sex in mouth in all of Khazikstan..." Wow.
Sunday was all day frass. 'Bean was kind enough to cart my a$$ to the Depot to load up his loaner truck with mulch (Seriously? That thing is bigger than he is. I mean. He doesn't even come up to the cab) 2 trips. 36 bags. (20 for dad). 4 transplanted tree's. 50 feet of weed barrier. And 1 case of heat stroke. (So. I was hydrating myself. 6pm rolled around and I hit a wall, is all. Did you know when you get heat stroke that birds look like they are flying in slow motion?) We invited ourselves over to the WW ranch for some more float time b4 calling it a night.
Did I mention I finally drug my cottage cheese buns out to run? On Saturday. And Sunday. I am a machine. 100 above or 20 below...I'll f#ck up the mean streets of Nordeast.
Hoo. It was hotter'n a b#tch, though. Hope y'all stayed cool, my babies.
Bud
Anyone remember that Budweiser commercial from yeeeeears ago? It came out during the time when every director was having a blast messing with historical figures by creating dialogue for them and making their mouths move with it. (ala' "Forest Gump". Foreskin. Hump.)
Anyway, the punchline was Fidel Castro was making a speech and it was comic gold. It ended with Fidel doing this kind of shrug and saying "Fidellllll. Forgettaboutit".
My dad used to say that over and over again and crack himself up. Drove us nuts.
Anyway, the punchline was Fidel Castro was making a speech and it was comic gold. It ended with Fidel doing this kind of shrug and saying "Fidellllll. Forgettaboutit".
My dad used to say that over and over again and crack himself up. Drove us nuts.
Oh Raggedyman....
Y'know...
I like Mel Gibson a lot. I won't even lie to you. He's a man-crush I'm not ashamed of admitting to. (Or my love of big-'splosion-blow'em-up action movies either) I'll even go so far as saying that I like about 95% of his films. He was so frickin' cool in the "Lethal Weapon" franchise, and I even like part four for what it was worth. "The Passion". Labor of love. "Braveheart"? Doi. And it was only last year that I frassed with another actor on an overnight shoot about the "awesome" factor of "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome" ("We're quite a pair, Raggedyman") He's funny. Gives hilarious interviews. He's a good movie "runner". (I won't bore y'all with this, but seriously? Some motherfuckers look plain stupid when they run in the movies. Watch Steven Seagal. Guy runs like a retarded velociraptor.) So yeah. Mel. Go Mel.
But.
I'm reminded of the phrase an old co-worker told me. "You know something? 1 'Aw Shit' can obliterate 50 'Attaboys!' " I think we were talking about Clinton at the time.
Dude.
Dumba$$. We're all human and he had a relapse and he's experiencing remorse but still...
Dumba$$.
I like Mel Gibson a lot. I won't even lie to you. He's a man-crush I'm not ashamed of admitting to. (Or my love of big-'splosion-blow'em-up action movies either) I'll even go so far as saying that I like about 95% of his films. He was so frickin' cool in the "Lethal Weapon" franchise, and I even like part four for what it was worth. "The Passion". Labor of love. "Braveheart"? Doi. And it was only last year that I frassed with another actor on an overnight shoot about the "awesome" factor of "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome" ("We're quite a pair, Raggedyman") He's funny. Gives hilarious interviews. He's a good movie "runner". (I won't bore y'all with this, but seriously? Some motherfuckers look plain stupid when they run in the movies. Watch Steven Seagal. Guy runs like a retarded velociraptor.) So yeah. Mel. Go Mel.
But.
I'm reminded of the phrase an old co-worker told me. "You know something? 1 'Aw Shit' can obliterate 50 'Attaboys!' " I think we were talking about Clinton at the time.
Dude.
Dumba$$. We're all human and he had a relapse and he's experiencing remorse but still...
Dumba$$.
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