Oh...the trip?

Sin City, baby. Ohhhh yeah. (To be truthful, my pop let the cat out of the bag by bellering out the location a week ago.) We cracked outta Dodge early last Friday and plopped our buns behind our rented HHR (And they were charging us for a sub-compact...HA! Eff you, Hertz!) before checking into the Strat-
http://www.stratospherehotel.com/

We napped, explored our lodgings, then gussied before we hit the restaurant at the top of the world for martini's and a PHENOMenal supper and a spinning view of greater Vegas. (Really. It spins.) http://www.stratospherehotel.com/topworld.html (We shared tuna carpaccio over a cake of rare ahi tuna, followed by shared lobster ravioli and roast chicken. Hea. Ven.)

Then a show:
http://www.stratospherehotel.com/bite.html

Big deal. Don't scoff at our love of the Vampire T#tty show. It was pure gold. A live dramatic interpretation can be provided to you by yours truly for one cocktail.

Day two was learning to play craps in the casino, then off to do some strip cruisin. (Is it just me, or did the strip grow two miles? For some reason I remember it being, shorter? And holy f#ck, there are literally 6 new casino's being built. Comedy was seeing the construction workers dressed like they were going on an Arctic expedition while Dorajar and I are in light sweaters and jeans.) That was pretty exhausting. A power nap, workout, and then it was off to the MGM grand to get SOMEone their out of town sushi fix (http://www.mgmgrand.com/dining/shibuya-japanese-restaurant.aspx) I'm not pointing fingers here, just sayin'...and sayin' again that SOMEone also has retired their mama...asking if we could take the table behind ours leftover tempura. (And by leftover...get this: A table of, like, 40 Japanese tourists exits before we're even served. They leave 3, count'em THREE full plates of tempura. I suppose it didn't hurt to ask...but man. There are, like, starving people in Japan and stuff)

Oh, the evening show? "Ka", bitches. http://www.mgmgrand.com/entertainment/ka-cirque-du-soleil-show.aspx Yes, a wirework kung-fu Cirque show. The video clip doesn't even begin to show you the enormity of the space. Holy balls...amazing. More over? When you go up to the bar and order a gin and tonic, ask for the large vs. the small, and walk away with a Big Gulp sized drink...well that's just the way to see theatre. ("Um... he poured half a bottle of Tanqueray into the glass darling.") The night ended with a trip to downtown Vegas where we lost a majority of our dough.

Day Tree was about nature. First, we needed to fill up on buffet food (a bullet point) but decided against the pricier casino's and used our two-for-one coupon for Terrible's Buffet. http://www.terribleherbst.com/casinos/lasvegas/restaurants.html We had a surreal morning of it, befriending a group of 4 senior citizens who told us all about what they either did, or didn't do...and we listened as they coveted dear Pat's monstrous strawberry covered Belgian Waffle.

After making it to the park-
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Rock_Canyon_National_Conservation_Area (and getting the S#IT scared out of me by the park ranger show and telling with a freaking scorpion!) we relenquished our "Advanced Hiker" card for "Re-ray Hiker" after following the wrong trail, doubling back, and realizing we missed the trail head by 4 feet. It was a gorgeous day (high 50's) and I was inundated by text messages from MN telling me about the shitty weather they were having. I felt awful.

Dorajar started feeling crappy so I took her to Fellini's http://www.fellinislv.com/fellinis_stratosphere.htm for a garlicy dinner and watched as the waiter/owner macked on my Kool-Aid. We meandered a little bit, and then hit the hay.

I got up and left Dorajar to sleep while I hit the hotel gym and realized that I was gonna truly miss the Vegas. We packed, hit the Fashion Mall to humor me (and get some last minnit gifts) then off to visit the Luxor and Excalibur. The Luxor buffet was a three hour wait, so we happied ourselves with "Ex's" which was worth the money...but poor sick baby only could manage some mashed potatoes.

Airport.

Then Home.

Did I mention that my girlfriend is made of awesome?

Late Late Late Late...I knowwwww...

MERRY CHRIBIRFDAY TO MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!


My PC at home is out of commission (cough cough hurry and fixit Biggie cough cough) so I've been negligent as heck trying to post, soooooo rather than make this one epic I'll chunk it up into bite sized morsels, working backwards:

Christmas Tag was wonderful. Just...ugh, so much love. I started EARLY by getting up at 5:54 am (The moment I go from one age to the next) The am/afternoon was a prime rib lunch at ma and dad's, gift giving (Thank you 110 pc Socket Set/New Pots and Pans- COOKING FOR BUDDIES WILL COMMENCE) baby cheek chewing, and general revelry.

Funny. No cake. Only gelato.

The night was revelry at the downtown Hyatt with buddies/Christmas orphan's. The Market BBQ found its way in there somewhere. And when I woke up there was a half empty bottle of Balvenie whiskey, two empty bottles of wine, and one tiiiiiired 33 year old.

Did I mention that? Christmas birth AND turning the same age as Christ's last year. Weird.





And here is your thought for the day, and my hope that it brings you some comfort:

Isn't it kind of nice to know that some where, at any given second there is probably some"one" in the world thinking about you in a positive way?

Sighs...

Don't it feel like that some days?

I guess there was a wizard at rehearsal last night. We're partying in an Uptown church (For the uninitiated, churches often times give micro-theatres in the TC's reasonable deals on rehearsal space. Sometimes free. Sometimes next to AA meetings...which can make you feel bad if you've just came from the Green Mill 2 for one happy hour smelling of gin.)

They're setting up for the press kit photo call, and I guess some dude came entered the church in robes, a high hat, and a staff. One of our actor's thought he was carrying a shovel and came in from the cold...until further inspection revealed what were only described as a flowing grey coat, pointed hat, and "crystals" mounted on the end of old Stormcrow's staff.

Huh. It made me wonder when our little rehearsal space turned into "Hogwarts"?

'Course...if anyone had wandered into our neck of the woods they woulda caught an eyeful of a 6 plus foot man dressed as a woman...IJS

Not too terribly exciting...

But that's rehearsal for ya. Frids- Rehearse. Sats- Rehearse. Caturday night was fajita night + Planet Earth, followed by more ethic cuisine at Tin Roof and FeeJ's joint half b'day party. Happy half b'day's, pretty ladies. Many happy returns. (And I knoooooow the value of a good half b'day. IJS)

Sunday there was no rest for the weary, and I hosted a little soiree' for me family in the early afternoon. Snacks were nibbled. Baby cheeks were chewed. Old photo's were perused. And for some reason, my penchant for taking off my pants was discussed. (Many, MANY photo's of a baby P in his altogether.) I fit a workout in there (Very important, due to the copious amount of cheese consumed) and Dorajar and I ate Thai food and watched "Apocolypto"...a cheery Christmas film. I have concluded, that Mr. Gibson ain't got no momma.

Now I'm back at it- Work and Rehearse until Thursday. Leavin' on a jet plane eeeaaaaaarly Friday morning. Probably having a bloody Mary inflight.

I secondarily conclude, this to be the funniest GD article that I've read in a while:
http://www.cracked.com/article_15744_which-greatest-trilogy.html

Regarding Pogo-Sticks

Cracked.com....on pogo-sticks:

"Instead of joyfully bouncing around in a happy-go-lucky style, the pogo stick compresses down about 9 feet, then shoots off the ground at a velocity approaching Mach 2. Surprised, and sporting a pair of rapidly browning underpants, you release your grip from the handles and try to step off. At this point the stick would inevitably carry on its ascendancy and smash you on the chin with slightly less force than the punch of a super heavyweight boxer."



I had to bury my face in my hands after I had read this. We actually had a pogo stick my mom picked up at a garage sale when we were younger. An old, kinda rusty jobby that had once sported sparkly pinkish glitter (It may have once been red) Although we were never launched to atmospheric heights, I do distinctly remember that it only went down about an inch (due to the aforementioned rust) and...well maybe it was a balance thing, but I took more than my fair share of gravelled face plants on that thing. Step up, then next foot (quickly!) force your body downward ("Reeee-KAH" was the noise. Like a bed in a fleabag hotel) Shlipah (hands OUT!)

Actually, as I just demonstrated my pogo'ing prowess to my co-worker it occurred to me that the pogo didn't even have a one inch compression...so the effect was trying to to bounce on a metal curtain rod with petals.

Picture that one.

Well fine then...

Dorajar frassed at me a minute ago regarding my significant lack of posting over the last couple of weeks. Not a whole shite ton has really happened tho', y'know? I hosted Turkey Day, has fondue night, and have spent the subsequent weeks shaking my fist at the cold.

Well that's not allllll together true.

I joined the club. Dorajar and I went for a week free trial to frassness crossroads and I was sold. It's been a incredible boost for my spirit and soul to be training again that I had forgotten how much I need a club and the equipment as motivation. My bum shoulder has been rehab-ing, it's nice not to have aching joints from running in sub zero temps, I can do back exercises, and shower next to a bunch of naked dudes. Wait...I mean we (and I do mean we) can ogle the Barbie who leads the Runner's Club while she demonstrates squats. Yeah...that's what I meant. Join a gym. I guarantee it'll be the best decision you make.

My car was in the shop again. I need a new one. That'll be an '08 project. But the shop lent me a LOVERLY '90 Celebrity to tool around in. Just...lovely.

I got cast in, then turned down "Hank V". I want to focus on "Normal", and well...yeah.

"Normal" started last night and I'm SM'ing. It's going to be great, and you'll all be vomming with how much I peemp it.

I finished "Special Topics in Calamity Physics", "The Shining", and now I'm onto "Jonathon Strange and Mr. Norrell". I'm booky.

I did a video shoot for work (I'm slumming) and on the way back from the studio I got ass backwards on the 35 to 62 interchange and wound up in my old neck of the woods from circa 2003-2004 when I rented a house in SW Mipples. I noticed two things: One, it's been rehabbed and two? It's for sale. I never really bought the concept of "McMansion" until I saw it.

Before:http://minneapolis.mn.house.info/2216-house-rent
Now: http://www.edinarealty.com/Listing/ListingDetail.aspx?Listing=20268235

You got $800K to drop, call the realtor. It was like someone plopped the Wonka Mansion in a charming stucco'ed neighborhood. The neighbor did that when I lived there and made an eyesore. When will they learn?

I'm going to be going out of town from the 21st through the 24th on a surprise trip. Then I come home to turn 33 on the day of our lord Christ. Sooooo, that means around April I kick the bucket and come back three days later for ham and mimosa's...If someone see's any Roman centurion's frassin' around Nordeast, couldya call me? I'd like to be out of town. Like, I want to be out of town when the RNC comes rollin' in.

Car F#cker...

Whatever floats your boat, dude:

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2007/1127072wong1.html

Winter blooze...

(Courtesy Cracked.com's 9 most Bad-Ass Bible Versus...which again, made me laugh out loud at work.)

Okay, so yesterday I quick like a bunny checked the weather since I noticed the frost gathering on my stairwell window and sure enough- it was FOUR degree's with a TEN BELOW windchill.

Frump.

It just feeeeeels like it's getting (not just) colder than previous Fall/Winter's when I could jog in shorts until mid-December. I chattered a bit on the drive to and from work, angry that my hands were hurting and I would have to forgo a jog before company arrived.

Company was had (Fon-Do night. Who knew? FeeJ, Mags, Moda, D-Baby, 'Lis, CRT, and eventually Lars showed up. I provide the shelter-They provide the booze N' niblets. Deeeeelish.) and when I took out the trash? Yup. Still reeeeeeally nipply.

So this morning, bloated and stuffed from wine and cheese fondue I find my long undies in the dark (Noticing in the bathroom that I looked like a lumpy sausage stuffed into its casing by an amateurish butcher...I mean they were TIGHT! Like, compression panty hose for varicose vein sufferer's...only momentarily realizing that they were a size x-tra small that were grabbed by accident and have found a place crammed at the back of my undiepant drawer for YEARS!)

I threw on my thick-gray zippered cardigan, busted out my 12 year old Columbia jacket worn only on the truly frigid mornings, thick gloves, scarf, and head wrap...loaded up my satchel with soup and prepared myself to truly enjoy the warmth my coffee would bring...stepped outsiiiide...

Huh. It doesn't feeeeeel as cold as yesterday. And sure enough, news and weather announces that it's almost 30 degrees out with practically no wind. Practically balmy.

And so, I drove to work with the heat off. Sweating. With the window cracked. So now I'm an over dressed sausage sitting at my desk.

Wart. The. Fork.

The Mist

I don't even wanna spoil it. Moda and I caught a matinee (Hey, ADHD here: WTF was their a fricking propaganda music video for the National Guard? And it was a long video. Loooong. Which glamorized the Guard to the point of making them seem like the A-Team on a cocktail of Steroids and Red Bull.)

The matinee, was the recent release of the King novella "The Mist".

And it still has been sitting with me, 3 days later.

Oof. You know how the horror movies lately have been pretty much slasher p0rn? Or torturey gore-fests aimed to shock the viewer and give KNB more F/X work? And every so often a flick will sparkle out of the rest like a diamond in the mud. It'll scare your brain. It'll make you jump. And will usually defy any jaded expectations-

"The Mist", did just that. And not because of the horrible (and oh yes, they are pretty nasty) beasties. It was horrible to watch the division which occured in such a claustrophobic place. It was how you think "Oh my...they're in some pretty deep s#it, but they'll get out of it b/c that's what people in these movies do. They're trapped in a grocery store, after all. Plenty of vittles to go round." And then you get your first glimpse of what they're dealing with. And you're thinking "Oh f#ck. Just shut the door and get away" And you think. Well, there's that.

But then the claustrophobia sets in. And then night falls on the first day. And you think "Well, it's still misty. Guess there'll be some more beasties. Awwwww, they're kinda cute"

And then they get in.

And then some very practical and real issues come up. And some awful decisions. And strained promises to people who are counting on the protaganist to be the person who makes everything right.

And then the division of the people. And my favorite quote of the whole film "People are fundamentally insane". When the power goes out and you're attacked by unnatural creatures, it's pretty easy to use "Old Testament God's wrath" as your explanation. And those people? Were, for me, the scariest motherlovin' part of the entire film. "Those" people. Because when you're trapped with out any chance of possible salvation? The last people you want to be with are spitting gibbering people throwing a bible in your face.

And they made the most unlikely person an action hero.

Lastly? The. End. THAT'S what sealed the deal when I wondered what was going to make this one of the best flicks in 2007 that I had seen. It hit...like a sucker punch. And it did two things for me:

1- Amazed me that the studio would allow that kind of ending in a movie and...
2- Made me respect the b@lls on the director for scripting an ending like that in the first place.

Holy. Moses.

So check it out if you can. It has the pre-requisite jumps and "OH GOD'S!" and some blood. But be warned, this is a terrifying film with a very, VERY intense undercurrent for the 2 hours you're watching it.

Wow...

So in the last 24 hours, I have done the following:

Raked and cleared the front yard of rubbish, causing my neck/shoulders/arms/back to be frassy today. Soreness pie.

Had a s#itty-and I mean S#ITTY audition at TeRP. I don't wanna even talk about it.

Came home, and whilst hustling upstairs stubbed-nay-probably broke my right big toe.

Went to do business/get some water early this a.m. and again, smacked the top of my left foot- bruising tendons. I can barely put weight on it.

As a result of said injury (at 3:30 am) I didn't fall back asleep. Well, the purring kitteh who went from wrapping his body around my head and turning into a motor boat...then went down to the end of the bed and hogged my side didn't help much.

Went to go smooch Dorajar awake and hit my knee on the corner of the Chinese carved trunk at the foot of my bed.

If and when you see me, please don't ask why I am wearing protective equipment. I'm a hazard to my self.

Weird...cute, but weird...

What I thoooought I overheard my co-worker say was "Scuttle Butt Muffin Tops"...

But she was really referring to this:
http://www.cuddlebugbaby.com/html/muffinhats.html

"Cuddle Bug Muffin Hats". We're having this informal competition, see? We post as our desktop wallpaper pictures of our respective nephew (moi) and her grandkids (Of which, there are triplets) I was currently leading the way with him hulking out at the pumpkin patch and have continued to lead the way with "Pirate Baby" in his crib ("Yar...don't be tryin' ta take me binky...yar...") But now, b/c the triplets don't have hair, she's resorted to cheating by ordering cuteness pie hats off the web.


I will not be defeated.

"The Fountain": A review (SPOILERS)

So after a weekend of car trouble (Friday) Seeing Thuglet and the rest of the Choppers of Pork at a Porkchop Saloon Reunion, then seeing "Voltron in Show Business" (Which you should all. Go. See. It's not every day you see your girlfriend make out with a hot blonde on stage. Sitting next to her father) I capped off the weekend at Redwrights- Drinking, eating, soaking, and watching the Vikes retire whatever scrap of feces they call dignity at Lambeau. (And I'm sorry. You're already decimating our team. Let's not cheap-shot clip our one rookie franchise player and incapacitate him for the remainder of the season. True, it's hyperbole...but let's watch the knee's...shall we? AND KICK AN EFFING FIELD GOAL!!! Get SOME points on the board. D#uche's. Get someone who can call plays. Here, wait...let me call the Mpls Park and Rec department. Their little leauger's would probably provide a more entertaining game.)

Ahem

So after some pigskin action, I figured taking in a cerebral sci/fi flick'd be a hot ticket. It was early, I was kinda tired, and the premise seemed interesting.

"The Fountain": (Short review)
Wolverine commits acts of arborphilia in outer space.

I'm not s#itting you, at one point he almost full out makes out with a tree. WTF? If you're going to make a beautifully shot (And it was beautiful, make no mistake) sci-fi film about time travel, the tree of life, and a smoking hot Rachel Weisz...at least let it make sense. This was chock full of phallic imagery -"Oh look, Mr. Injured Conquistador FINDS the tree of life and pierces it with his (d#ck) knife while the tree ejaculates a strangely thick white gooey substance which cures his wound and turns him into Swamp Thing by Bachman's."

And future Huge Ackman makes out with (read: Eats the bark...heh. He's not even supposed to be crazy...I thought only Margot Kidder or Anne Heche did that?) a tree, does Tai Chi, and talks to himself in the lotus position. Basically it takes the last 20 minutes of 2001 and shakes it like a snow globe before throwing it at you, rendering you unconscious.

Did I mention Huge plants a tree seed in his beloveds grave? Just by scooping up the earth. The frozen, ice packed earth?

Now, I feel bad b/c they have a featurette showing how this movie was in development hell for years. Once even going so far as to showing the meeting the producers held telling the production staff that as of that moment...they were out of a job. And that just seemed like an SNL skit gone wrong. ("We're secretly letting you in on the meeting where we do a MASSIVE layoff! Next on "Some Random Ford Plant's Funniest Home Video's!" )

I tried to stick it out. Really I did. But I actually felt dumber when it was done, and actually thought that I'd rather watch "Requiem" again (The movie dubbed "The greatest, most beautiful, disturbing film I have ever seen...and never want to view again.")

Avoid it. Please. I took one for the team watching this. You owe me. Money.

Yeah Yeah...

I'm lame. Shup. Nothing too excitable has happened. Show's over. Houses were admirable. Bowling in Ninja garb was done. (Pictures/Film...Chowie. I can has?) I had a lil' soiree' Saturday night (And by little, after the first hour when folks hadda split for their respective gigs it was Chowie and I bs'ing in the back yard and frassin' on the rope swings. Booze and parties tend to bring that out in people)

H'ween was passed rather unremarkably (What happened to me? I stayed in wearing a Monksrobe handing out treats and watched "The Shining" Mad props to the kids wearing ninja garb, and the 14 year old girl who said "I'm Amy Winehouse". Extra candy to them)

I was 1/3 of the way through completing my porch when I ran out of pergo, only to discover nobody and I mean NObody carries the same brand any more unless it's the expensive assed kind from the website. Frack.

FeeJ is hooking me up with a warshing machine. Pip Woot hollah. Any strong back with a truck would be appreciated. I imagine she needs it gone toute suite and I'm tired of having to go to the laundromat. Anyone know a good way of getting an old heavy assed model up a flight of rickety stairs? I worry.

Redwright and his Fredliness celebrated their 25th anniversary last night on Guy Fawkes day. It was lovely. Ma und Pa were my date. Karaoke was had. Cocktail weenies and meatballs were consumed. As was copious amounts of liquor. Pretty people were ogled and groped. There were no less than 5 SSGF's in attendence. I was happy as a mongoose. Congratulations you two. Many happy years to come.

Lastly, is it so weird that I should pine for this? (Simply for nostalgia's sake):
http://www.amazon.com/Sesame-Street-Vol-School-1974-1979/dp/B000UNYJTK?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1188162599&sr=1-2

I mean...s#it. This is precisely smack dab during the time when I'd have been figuring out that "C" truly is for "Cookie". I mean, you can't f#ck with that logic...can you? (And for the record, my NSHO? It's cookie. NOT carrot. PC f#cko's. Let kids be kids, kay?) And that some episodes were actually-wait for it- BROUGHT to you by the letter P or the number 2. Many of my reader's may aspire to bring episodes to the masses, but nobody and I mean nobody can do it like those letter's and numbers. Chumps. (And btw...I don't want this. Mom, I know you're reading this but I really do not want.)

Lastly, I was racked again with insomnia the other night. The 45 minutes I did sleep were filled with dreams of graboids, fire ants, saving kids, parties with green lights, and scavenger hunts.


Dorajar's show opens this weekend. Go see "Voltron in Show Business" if you wanna see my SO engage in hot girl/girl lovin'...IJS.

Pip Pip...REVIEW'D

Review - Sun Tzu’s The Art of War - No Refunds Theatre Co. - 5 Stars
Oct 22, 2007
“If you are not in danger, do not fight.”If you’re missing that Fringey feeling of great guerilla theater, or, heck, if you just need a really good laugh (with some formidable brains and talent behind it), have I got a show for you. That show would be No Refunds Theatre Co.’s staging of the classic military strategy text, Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War.”No. Really.Actually if you want a laugh, it begins with the program - an almost completely fabricated biography of the original author, cheeky bios under the heading “Who The Hell Are These People?,” and a director’s note that is largely just a picture of one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles above the words - “Sun Tzu is Chinese. Ninjas are Japanese. I know. I don’t care.”This disclaimer is necessary because while the text is almost entirely drawn from Sun Tzu’s book (minus the introduction and conclusion of the play), it is largely performed with the help of No Refund’s signature characters, the ninjas. Charlie Bethel, well-known for his whipsmart one-man adaptations and performances of classics such as Beowolf and Tom Thumb, adapted the book with director Matt Dawson, and the collision of the two styles works wonderfully well.

Playing what would be the traditional Charlie Bethel role of host/narrator/creator of characters in this production is the urbane John Middleton, much of the time wielding humor as dry as a perfect martini. In opposition to Middleton’s self-possession is a trio of whacked-out ninjas clad from head to toe in black, only their extremely expressive eyes showing. The ninjas are Kiseung Rhee (so great in the recent Nightpath reimagining of “Measure for Measure”) as most of the royal characters, Mike Postle as Sun Tzu and most of the military commander characters, and Christopher Howie as the tall and hapless military grunt, the target of many of the other two characters’ assaults and even the narrator’s disdain. This combination of Bethel’s style and that of No Refunds could have stumbled by being too goofy (not respecting the source) or dull (respecting the source so much that one forgets to stage it for a live audience). The fact that it doesn’t wander into either of those trouble spots is something of a minor miracle, and they’re to be commended for pulling it off.

The text is crisp, simple military theory, interspersed with Sun Tzu’s own illustrative examples of what to do, and not to do, in action. Middelton keeps things moving along verbally, while the ninjas alternate between a sort of martial arts version of interpretive dance and role-playing as the narrator dictates. Middleton does get in on a bit of the oddball fun when providing the voices for the story of Sun Tzu demonstrating his theories for an emperor using the ruler’s army of concubines as stand-ins for soldiers. Sun Tzu’s voice is a John Wayne impersonation that I like to think must be a nod to the Duke’s one big blunder into costume drama when he took on the role of Ghengis Khan in “The Conqueror” (The movie is painfully awful, and truly beautiful. You’ll laugh til your eyes bleed. Rent it. The fact that they filmed it downwind of nuclear test sites before anyone thought radiation was a bad thing and most of the cast ended up dying years later of cancer just makes it weirder. Only in America.)

This is unfortunately the perfect time for a show like Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. I say unfortunately because our country is currently waging a handful of wars of its own devising and one wishes our political leaders had read Sun Tzu before embarking on their adventures. Sun Tzu understood the practicalities of war - terrain, politics, leadership, morale, provisioning, and above all, diplomacy. One of the more ruefully funny parts of the book concerns Tzu’s assertion that the greatest victories in war are the ones that are never fought, the ones in which no one raises a weapon, and no soldier loses their life. These victories are won by negotiation and are almost never the subject of song and story. But only the smartest and best strategists ever win them.

The audience brings its own subtext into the theater with them. About halfway through the performance, I didn’t think I could laugh at the show anymore. All I could think was “Oh man, it’s so blatantly clear. Common sense, completely ignored. We’ve done everything wrong. We are so screwed.” Yet laugh I did. Because Bethel, Dawson, Middleton and the Ninjas know if we don’t find some way to laugh at it all, we’ll go mad.On top of the misfortunes of the enemy soldiers portrayed by Howie who keep getting the stuffing beaten out of them... Beyond the giggle-inducing demonstrations with action figures and crude maps scrawled on muslin...The big laughs come at the expense of the leader with no military experience who thinks he knows better than his generals. Rhee, as the incompetent emperor making one poor decision after another in Middleton’s list of missteps, also makes a series of slow double-takes to the audience which become increasingly amusing. The leader is never mentioned by name. There is no need. Those who are inclined to get the joke, will get the joke. Those who aren’t can just enjoy the inept antics of the witless emperor trying to conduct a battle with no allies, no knowledge of the enemy, or strategy (yes, a “strategery” sign makes a fleeting comic appearance). That’s one of the charms of this clever presentation - it’s full of comedy and common sense anyone can appreciate, but each audience member can make up their own mind what it all means, and how it might apply to our current world order.

If you’re not in the mood for political satire, it works as slapstick. If you’re not in the mood for mindless comedy, there’s a high IQ just below the surface winking at you if you want to be in on the bigger, and slightly darker, joke.Nice to finally see a full production from the No Refunds crew. I seem to be one of the only people who missed the various incarnations of “Kung Fu Hamlet” - which developed quite the cult following. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have been scared off by the zombies and 80s TV sitcoms in their subsequent Fringe shows. Their hilarious contribution to the Five Fifths of the Wizard of Oz event was second only to the Scrimshaw Brothers for entertainment value. And Sun Tzu’s The Art of War has reassured me that whatever they do, I’m in good hands. Next up is an onstage version of a graphic novel, “What’s Done In The Dark,” a mix of action and illustration. For those who worry that might be a bit grim or edgy, they assure in the program ad, “just because it’s serious, doesn’t mean it’s legitimate theater. We’re still No Refunds, after all.”I beg to differ. They may not take themselves too seriously, and that’s to their credit, but they’re definitely legitimate theater. And very highly recommended.

Final performances are this Friday and Sunday, October 26 and 28 at the Bryant Lake Bowl (810 West Lake Street in Minneapolis)All performances start at 7pm (Doors open at 6)Tickets - $15 ($12 for students with ID, Fringers with buttons, black belts, members of clergy, certified ninjas, and veterans, active or retired)

For reservations call - 612-825-8949 or visit www.bryantlakebowl.com (online ticket purchase available)

And as the No Refunds site - www.norefundstheatre.com - says, “For more information on Sun Tzu or the Art of War, visit your local library, or ask your mom.”

It's both comforting and a little disconcerting that this military advice has been around, proven right, and regularly ignored, since around 500 B.C. Worth revisiting in this comic context. After all, those who forget the past...

Thanks, Chowie...

If you're My-Spacin'...check out my page for new pics of "Great Moments in Kung Fu Theatre History". One of which..is just neat. I'll look at it when I'm 70 & have Alzheimers and say "Hurrrrghablurginfrabble doo...."

Hooked on Cracked, and other meanderings...

1st- Go see my show. Tonight and Sunday, 7pm, BLB. Spend your $ on some learn-y type theatre.

2nd- This weather is tearing my soul apart. For realsies. The blinding, sideways rain reminded me of my trip to England w/me mum. We left for a Stonehenge tour, thinking that the day would go from gray and foggy to clear and free. (As it had the previous 4 days) Ergo, we left our rain parka's at the hotel. Nope. The sky was nearly black, the rain icy cold, going sideways, and it soaked us both through to the skin by the time we got off the bus and shuffled into the gift shoppe to buy a blanket (my teeth were chattering) and two garbage bags with holes that was labeled "poncho" for six pounds a piece. I. Need. Sun.

3rd- I have delivered unto you my love for Icanhascheezburger.com and occasional listies from Cracked.com. It has become a daily check in at work, and because most of their clips are on Youtube I can't watch 'til I get home. Well...I read this list yesterday, started laughing so hard I had to put my fist in my mouth, watched it at home, DID laugh out loud, then just re-read it today and laughed AGAIN. This is one of the reasons I am weening booze out of my diet.

And it further proves that B'Affleck, daddy or no, was a total Johnny Salami.

http://www.cracked.com/article_15626_11-most-unintentionally-poignant-drunk-celebrity-videos.html

So what DID you do?

While your girlfriend was trading shirts off hugs in the big Apple?

Nothing. Not a damn thing.

Well that's not entirely true:

Friday we hadda show, which went much smoother than you'd think after a week away from it.
Caturday was a HUGE work out, followed by attempts to fix my mower (Nope. And I nearly ripped my hands apart trying to remove the spark plug. It ain't budging.) Planting/Turning over my garden in the front, And then a "Me Movie Night" (Which consisted of my wandering around Video Stardom with my mouth agape, staring at the non-stop milieu of previews playing on their in-store televisions. Friends, say "Hello" to ADHD) I walked away with "FF 2, Rise of the Silver Surfer" and "Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon".

It is right now, just at this point, that I realize I had rented two flicks with "Rise" in the title, and neither one a p0rno. Hmmmmmmm.

I'll cut to the chase: "FF2", outside of a funny turn by Johnny Storm and some interesting body work by Doug Jones as the Surfer...sucked holy balls. No lie. I felt compelled to remove it but I kept myself stubbornly glued to the screen. Can a comic book film go so off target that it just stops being entertaining? Oh yes. Ohhhhhh yes. And I think that a serious case of miscasting was shat upon the movie. I tried. Don't bother. Don't eeeeeven look at the case. Balls.

Now "Behind the Mask"? Not bad. I liked it about as much as I thought I would after reading the plot synopsis. (Mockumentary/Horror film- Get it?) A fairly affable guy goes into detail for a camera crew how he wants to be a serial horror icon along the lines of Michael Meyers/Jason Vorhee's yadda yadda. They've got great cameo's, video footage from the original locations of those respective franchises, and yeah. It's got enough tongue in cheeks to have kept me engaged for 90 minutes. Definitely a palate cleanser after the tripe that was "FF2". Did I mention that movie was ass on toast?

Sunday was cleaning house, reading, late lunch with the 'Bean, and another show. wOOt, Pip, hollah.

I'm a boring bunk.

And Ode to BJ's and Pants...

Not thaaaat kinda BJ, ya preev's.

So "Sun Tzu's: The Art of War" opened last Freitag. Now, if I've been maintaining radio silence it's part and parcle to the fact that we've been nose to the grindstoning nearly nightly before we opened. (There's a lot of business, dig? And A lot of business means a lot to remember, even if I'm not talking.) We had a moderate house who, while not as keenly snickerable as we'd hoped were still receptive to the concept. (It's a lesson book, see? About war. Written in 500 BCE. That has some ironic observations/lesson's about what to do, and not to do when going into battle that the current administration could stand to learn from. IJS) If, by means of an advertisement, you have a free Friday or Sunday night in October? Head on down to the BLB for some learnin', some awesome food, and only an hour of your night. That leaves time for bowling, yo.

Afterwards, I hung w/Dorajar, Mags, D, and Scora and knocked back my free-ish Surly while I watched them finish the game. We dropped off Mags, and Dorajar got this brilliant idea to hit up BJ's Cocktails, Game Room, and Exotic Dancers.

Yeah. Nope. Okay, I was gonna stop there but we engaged in some interesting discourse about quality of dancer, psychology, body image, the fact that some of the "dancer's" really weren't plying their craft all that well, opting to just lie on the stage and writhe around like someone getting tangled in the sheets after a bad nightmare, and pausing occasionally to expose themselves to any one of the Hell's Angel's who went to the corner of the stage with a single.

Eep.

Saturday was a project day. After fashioning some brefkist burrito's, I took to edging the lawn and prepping for a mow when kaput...the Toro up and died. I'm gonna try and replace the plug, but if anyone has a Craigslist lead for a lawnmower (Preferrably one that, you know, "goes"? And doesn't result in an arm work out...) let me know.

After a nap, and a brief discussion as to dinner we hit the Lund's deli (Where you should all. Go. No Sir Ian sightings though...lucky Ike) Then home. I proceeded to teach Dorajar how to "Kiss Like A Boy" (Seriously. Talking honesty I almost gave away all my patented "all new cheap moves!") Then we lounged around in our undies before watching "Heroes" and calling it a night.

Sunday was a summons to the Royal Families Townhome in Ply-Mouth where I had lunch and helped turn the back forty for some plantin'. Sufficed to say, Monday sucked. Suck it, soreness.

That night? I was Dorajar's date to say "Good Bye" to X. By Mama. Be good to NYC.

Back at it Frasser's. If you read this, come see my show. I HAVE SPOKEN!!!

Food Reviews

Ahem-

Progresso's low sodium/carb/health-consious Southwestern Spicy soup. 150 calories. Okay. Definitely brothy. Not a hearty meal to be sure, but a little extra water/tomatoes/spinach/spices ups the flavor sensation.

Ahem squared-

I'm busting a$$ to get to rehearsal (I worked until 6pm) and since I didn't pack a dinner I had to make an executive decision to stop for frassed food. There was nothing, like but nothing in terms of old stand by drive through's where I could hazard a healthy sammich so when I get off I spy a Har to the Dizz-Ee's in the distance. I think "F#ck, man...I haven't been to one of these places in forever. Like, all I remember was Frisco Melt's back when I ate the filthy bastards." My second thought was "F#ck, man...I've got to be at rehearsal in 5 minutes, please let there not be a line") The pickings were remarkably slim, and judging by the grilled chicken choices and the lack of a "Your way, right away" slogan I figured I'd-a need to make due with the lesser of two evils. So, it is here that I introduce you to the "Hawaiian Teryaki Grilled Chicken Sandwich" boasting a pineapple (Oooookay. I see cheese, but figure that it can be peeled off with relative ease.)

Wrong.

I fumble and park, pulling my purchase out and resigning the fact that I'd be about 3 minutes late but if I didn't get dinner I'd be a crabby petunia. I open the box (Still looks promising) lift the bun off annnnnnd: F#ck. This thing has at least a gallon of mayo on it. And is that cheese? It looks like white foam core!?!? And low and behold...one napkin.

I begin the salvage project immediately, hands shaking from hunger/anger/nerves as I quickly wipe the bun when the chicken shifts and...what's this? ANOTHER slathering of mayo and cheese. Flip, Lather, and repeat. Only this time my hands are covered in goo. I manage to use some kleenex in the back (Not a sturdy subsitute) and scarf my sandwich before rehearsal. When the night was all said and done, my car reeked of mayo/dead sammich.

So I'd like to give a hearty Caesarian "Thumb's Down" to their sammich. My steering column is giving me the "phantom ick's" just by touching it. Grrrrr.

The I.V's

Yup. That pretty much sums it up. And when the post-gala is charging actor's (read: Fixed income) $9 a glass of wine? Reminds me of why we packed our flasks in the first place. Here's to sticking it to the man. A synopsis:


-I cut my chin shaving. No biggie, but I bled like a sieve for an hour.

I started sweating immediately after showering. And proceeded to sweat for the duration of the night. And not "Oh pretty I'm glowing" sweat, but "No officer, I have no IDEA why there's a dead hooker in my trunk" sweating. Not pretty.

Pocketed Flask Full of Morgan's and picked up date, who looked very pretty.

We hit Great Dragon All you Can Eat Buffet for dinner in our classy duds. We. Are. Awesome.

And so is Great Dragon's Spicy Chicken and Broccoli. More sweat.

We BS'ed at Palomino w/X, Gramma, BWJ, and commenced people watching.

Joined the swell of folks trying to get tickets etc. My sweating, at this point, became unbearable and I started feeling like an unwashed heathen. And felt like Dorajar and I should have attached ourselves to each other with a piece of string.

Sat in the back and watched the show. Had to pee about three minutes in and basically sweat, squiggled, and squirmed through the show. I felt self conscious being flanked by people, so nips from my flask were far and few between. At least I wasn't lit by the time I got to the after-do like last year.

Ahem. HALLLLLLLENBEEEEECK!!! F#cking A this guy should get an award. Word.

BNW performer is a new super secret girlfriend, as is the girl who did the snippet from "Fat Pig". She was very sweet when we were introduced post-show.

I decided I don't "get" the IV's.

We started laughing, audibly, when X sent her a text during one guest performer's rendition of "Hopelessly devoted to you"- (paraphrased) "Don't the b#tch know another song?!?!"

We bolted right before the "Lifetime Afrassment" Award was handed out. It was funny because we shared the same glance and when people started to clap and stand, that was our cue.
Finally...toilet time. Mop sweat. Remove jacket. Dab big red dot in the center of my chin. Gross.
I get a really good look at me and resign myself to looking like an overdress tool. I shoulda went with a kilt too. At least then I'da had a breeze to keep me cool.

Get offered a pick-up drink by the pretty people by the trough in the lobby. Empty half outside, pour some of my flask in there. Subtle...buddy. Reeeeeeally subtle. It tasted like diluted a$$.

After party-

The Schloss is our hook up. Cheap tonic for Dorajar and her flask. Cheap Diet Coke for Mikey.


I told SSGF #2 and former IV winner that I loved her. She told me she knew. How Han Solo.

Got a big hug from Shelbs. Love.

Quite a few fakey run-in's. (That one dude? He's 40, right? Why does he look perpetually 25 years old? The man hasn't aged in 15 years! That's IT! He's a f#cking vampire.)

One ex siting. ( We kept our distance)

We took funny pictures in a photo booth. (See above

Lot's of pretty people. One pretty and naughty Feej. Shame shame I know your name. ; )

I chastised Beau Geste for giving away all his acting tips on the C'board. He said "Do I know you?!?!?"

I told the Penub-nub artistic director that it's not all glamour. He said "Do I know you?"

That's it.

Whadda Weekend...

It just FLOO by, didn't it? Caturday was sort of the pinnacle of goodness so I figure I'll start there:


Being that this was the last sort of "open" weekend we had together, Dorajar and I were fixing to get out of town. Funds were low-age, so we knew that spending the night somewhere was out of the questions. We opted for T. to the Fall's where we were watned to recapture a little of this happy business:
http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2006/02/consider-source.html

(Back when we were desperately denying that there was anything "there". Okay, it was all on me but still...funny business when you look back on it)

Daytime started with brefkist here:
http://www.chatterboxpub.net/

(Not bad. I thought that you got a little less food than you were paying for, but all told it was still tasty business) The highlight of brefkist was that we completed the Onion cross word in the span of an hour. Thank you. And did you know that they get around the liquor law by making their Bloody Mary's with Sake?

We hiked many a small hikes consecutively in the state park before heading into scenic TF to discover truly if it was, in fact, a summer town. (For a pair of "experienced" hikers, we moronically forgot to bring water in with us. Durrrrr) We knocked back a BM at Romayne's while watch the biker's rumble and the children frass. (Note to parents: If you have a spastic hyper-active child, feeding them sugary beverage's is probably not a good idea. IJS) Walked around, then headed back home.

Still parched, we stopped in Chisago City to slake our thirst at Scooter's pub where we were just in time for TWO historic events: One, was the $.50 hamburger special. (No s#it. A full sized burger, for fitty cent. ) And...wait for it: The meat raffle. After snapping a photo of Dorajar posing in front of the pool table covered in frozen roast, we spit the bit. (And luck ba$tard that she is, she found a really nice lounging VS bathrobe at the antique store next to the bar)

We napped, then headed out for a "just got fired/quit" dinner where the bar actually had playing the cartoon Transformer's movie from '86 followed by "Fighter's at the Shaolin Temple". Needless to say, I wasn't all that conversational. More like "Jocko at a sport's bar when there's a (Insert random sport) playing"

Sunday was rehearsal, projects, then Market for Jabas the Hutt's b'day. Thus fulfilling half of my bi-annual Market visit's. I didn't even get plowed. Hooray for buddies.

Tonight...the Ivey Awards. I will have a flask. Oh yes.

I wanna be this guy

Why hasn't this been on the radar? "Mirageman"? Really? Is he another Tony Jaa flash in da pan? What?

I found out about this dude in the round about way, first with this on AICN:
http://www.aintitcool.com/node/34148

Which prompted me to do this:
http://imdb.com/title/tt1046183/

Then to watch this...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVrpiQS7IG4



Ho. Lee. Shite.

A few things...

A week ago on my commute home, I saw a car blow up.

Scratch that.

I was coming around 94 Westbound from White Bear Ave. and saw plumes of black smoke. "Fire" I thought, ever so wisely. Looks to be coming from the South side, so no major snarls.

Right?

As I got closer, and traffic snarled down ("Frickin' Lookiloo's") I saw the source- A suburban, engulfed (And I mean, a ball of flame with a suburban shape) in the Eastbound lane. Well before I even saw this mess, I was about 1/4 miles up the road when Ka-BOOOOOOOM a 6 story mushroom cloud erupted in the near-distance. When I got closer and passed it I knew (knew) what the source of traffic congestion was. (Thankfully, all souls were a half mile away) but...

Shit.

I've never seen an explosion live. Like that . Or with my windows up, felt the vibration's...

I could comment on the 35W bridge tragedy, or that there are people in the Middle East who deal with this on a regular basis...but no. It freaked me out. A lot.


Thank You.

Bad Covers

Cracked.com, on a famous wigged out pop stars cover of "Satisfaction":

"But here's the thing—how bad a cover version do you have to create to look bad compared to The goddamn Monkees? That's like losing a paralyzation contest to Stephen Hawking."

Did I read this right?

(Chinese: 肾子八大奇功 - "Testicle Eight Outstanding Techniques").

And moreover, did it show up? This blog is brought to you by my awful wiki addiction, and the definition of the "Iron Shirt" technique of kung fu.


For your pleasure.

I confess...movie style

I know that I'll never watch certain movies, in spite of my deep love for the cinema. That said, I spend time reviewing the spoiler-ific wikipedia entries on the movies I don't want to see, but want to know more about. The film "The Brave One" really doesn't pique my interest all that much (And it's been getting some ass-tastic reviews. Well really..."I want my dog back"? Jodie, Jodie, Jodie...God I love ya, but you've been hittin' some foul balls in the last 10 years or so. Boo. Boo I say.)

Annnnnyway, here's a spoiler filled plot synapsis of "The Brave One", clearly written by someone who was realllly trying to capture the essence of the film in addition to their overall disdain. I. Laughed.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Brave_One_%282007_film%29

Oh God...Even funnier...

The nerd in me is rolling, ROLLING over this one. GSeven and Raven? This is for you:

http://www.cracked.com/index.php?name=News&sid=2111


Clooney's bat nipples assist with bat lactation.

Too...Funny

I found this article on the top five Mismatched movie fights here:

http://www.cracked.com/index.php?name=News&sid=1484


(There was also links attached regarding the top 8 improvised movie weapons which includes, ahem, Ash's chainsaw hand.)

This quote though, and mind you he's cappin' on Han Solo, this quote killed me:


"Harrison Ford punches like a woman in every single action movie we've ever seen him in. There’s always this drunken looking follow through after each punch where he falls forward a couple of steps and then looks up like he just forgot where he was. For some reason, people thought this guy was an action star for 25 years despite the fact that his career has been mostly comprised of angrily crumpling paper and looking like he's just pooped his pants. "

Oh dear...

This reminds me of a conversation I had back in high school with a buddy regarding how people run in movies. We agreed that Steven Seagal tends to run with this weird floppy armed gait that is similar to a T-rex chasing a jeep. Mel Gibson (post "Lethal Weapon 2" intro scene) runs well- And in cowboy boots.

No easy feat. I mean, f#ck...I hadda dance in cowboy boots and looked like an aging T-Rex who pooped his pants.

I'm now four years old today. Carry on.

Come again?

"...It'll be a point of purchase deal for a spa company that shoots on the 12th and 13th, just come on down to the office and wear a swimsuit..."


Waitaminnit? Did I just agree to do a topless audition on Friday?

Ohhhhh. Kay.

I'm fairly certain I had my head up my butt when I said "Yes". I probably look like an ouroboros.

Karma?

If you post something about how you think you spread good karma, does it cancel out?

Our first pitstop on the way down to KS was this little rest area in the middle of nowwhere. It's interesting to note, that our first rest stop (Where the sign actually said "Rest Area") was just that. No terlets. No vending machines. Just a place to pull over and park. We chuckled, and meandered up another 40 miles before we found one with plumbing.

We're giggly and goofy and sweaty, looking forward to the opportunity to stretch our legs. As I get into the building and Dorajar bustles over to the ladies room I make eye contact with a woman helping a man struggling with a walker. He's middle aged, African American, has an eye patch, and is having a very difficult time getting into the restroom. I make a quick decision to get out of there way and use the second door when she grabs my arm and says to me "Excuse me? This is my husband. Would you please help him in there? Just...if anything happens come and get me?"

No worries.

She tells her husband I'll be helping and he faintly registers this. We slowly make our way in and he shuffles over to the handicapped stall (I had to laugh a little. I was reminded of a conversation where someone told me that if it's available? He always hits the handicapped stall to do his business since it's roomier. And here's someone who is, you know, handicapped? And actually needing to use it. What. A. Concept.) I do my business, wash my hands, and commence waiting. The stall door is pulled open and he says "No flush!!!" loudly. I assure him that it's auto flush and it will happen on its own and he shakes his head and slides his walker out saying "not me!!!".

Oh. Someone ELSE'S potty. So I comply.

He thanks me and goes back in.

So the rotation of individuals comes and goes, and I sit there planted against the wall. I see the wife out side and she raises her eyebrows and mouths "OK?" I nod, and keep waiting. Thought's start to invade my mind at a rapid pace. "I can't tell Dorajar and DeeZ where I am right now...it'd be like abandoning my post." "I really hope that nothing DOES happen...what do I do then? Get her and take off? And if there are dudes in here, do I announce her prescence?". "The guys, some with kids, are giving me weird looks...aren't they. Well Jesus, Baby P...you're probably giving off this very 'Craig-Like' cruising vibe. Tres Pervy...Jackass".

And lastly, PLEASE bear in mind I'm not proud of my own selfish rationalizations: "Um...I'm on a schedule and have to get back on the road...how long is this going to take?"

I hear commotion coming from the stall, and help to open the door while he finds his way to the sink. And boy, he was really going for the "cleanliness is next to Godliness" vibe with how long he washed his hands. (Wash, pump soap, wash, pump soap, wash...X's Five) There isn't any hand towels and so he navigates over to the hand dryer (Another brief moment of panic, as I notice that his hands are wet, he's having great difficult on his wheeled walker, and he's using his elbows to steer in order to keep the handles from getting wet. Since this is the home stretch, I thought, this is where something will happen)

But nope. He dries. Slowly makes his way over toward the door as I let him pass and he gives me a quiet "thank you" before we mosey over to his wife.

I'm about to turn heel and bustle off to the car when I get a brief touch on my shoulder from the woman who, with all the sincerity I've ever seen in the world says "Thank you. Thank you so much for your kindness". I mumble something along the lines of "It was absolutely not a problem" before skedaddling.

All of this really only took the span of maaaaybe 10 minutes.

It took me a sec to articulate to the other passenger's what just happened as I saw them both make their way in the rearview mirror to their vehicle. It made me think of the well of love, patience, understanding, frustration that has to accompany them. And I felt a mix of shame, pride, love, and a very real and profound sense of gratitude.

And then it was back to the Chamber of Secrets. And maybe the karma was what kept Dorajar's car running smoothly the entire weekend.

Home

Safe, thankyouverymuch...


Whatta weekend. Oof. Oof to the iz-dah. Road trips for buddies are fun and relaxing, but dang do they tend to wear you out. (And make going back to the grind a monumental struggle)

Of note:

Frids we go to pick up DeeZ and grab some breakfast early early (http://victors1959cafe.com/)
before heading to get the rental car to make haste to points Southerly. After settling up, Dorajar tells the nice cashier our destination and we get the "dissapointed face" from her and she says "Oh...we only have a 5 state radius. We'll have to charge you $.30 a mile after 200 miles." (Sweet, I think? We're not travelling more than 3 states away! But no...it's the three SURROUNDING states. F#ck-bacon.) So we said "Eff it" and took the Mo-Mobile. 7 hours, 2 pit stops*, 1 tank refill, and hungry bellies later we arrive in Overland Park to stay with buddies. We had dinner, then hit the LQ and stayed up to the wee hours (Read: 11pm. We're old) before passing out.

Sats we grabbed brefkist before shuffling off to Lawrence. We ended up hotel-ing it cheaply due to some mis-communique with previous arrangements. After cleaning up we hit a Mexican restaurant (We weren't sure if there was going to be food at the reception until we were seated, ordered food and margies, and I looked at the RSVP. Whoops) Then off to the outdoor wedding which was loverly. (Save the fact the reverend biker ladies mike wasn't on. And Dorajar getting stung by a bee. Twice. Nature, it seems, had it out for us) The reception was at this idyllic little farm/campsite in this big, garage? Like, mechanics garage. In the main hall there was the typical decorations you'd expect (Vintage auto signs, antique hub caps) In the booze room off to the side, there was just...antiques. (Lunch boxes, pennants, sports equipment, and the like) It was charming as hell. Dinner was a catered affair chock full of a lot of...meat. (Who were 45 minutes late, which created some mild tension early on) We danced, tried leaving at 9:30, were shamed into staying later, plied with energy drinks, then gibbered on and smoke cigars for another 2 hours before heading home.

Sunds was continental brefkist and a tour of scenic downtown Lawrence. I was given campus and town stories, we snacked on Thai. Shopped the shops (I demolished the first two HP novels, and hadda hit a used bookstore for more dreck. This seems to be a road trip tradition I'm setting up) And finally met up w/buddies at the Free State Brewery (http://www.freestatebrewing.com/) For beers and dinner.

A couple of Ed Asner ales and gumbo later? Things get a little fuzzy. Sunday will now be dubbed "Party Night". We hopped. We frassed. And I was grateful that I wasn't hung over the next day. (Seriously, how? I mean up and jogging by 9? You are a freak, boy)

Monday we had brefkist with the Scora/n and high tailed it back to Mipples. And the fates conspired against us, yet again...and in spite of a Chinese food jones, Great Dragon was closed for the day. It seems even Martian's celebrate Labor day.


* I hope I win karma points for this one. There's a story here for another blog.

Later, yo...

Have a glorious and festive Laborious Day Weekend, my fellow frasser's! Dorajar and I will be heading down to Lawrence, KS to attend (yet...another) Wedding! Congrats, Chenny and Pad Thai! We're headin' to Victor's 1959 cafe for a little Cubano Brefkist (The most important meal, you know) and then hittin' the ro-ad.


I love road trips. And I need a vacation. There, I said it.


wOOt!!!


ps: Last Chance to see me play "Professor Von Junk" in an interactive video game outside of "Trash Mountain" in the Eco Lab building at the State Fair. There, I said it. An embarrassing ditty, to be sure. Bring your kids. Teach'em about recycling and conservation. Watch me blatantly stare at the jerry-rigged cue card contraption the guy off to my waaaaay left is holding.

GO!!!

Drama at the Fair...

Oh. The State. Fair.

I had made plans to go with my two oldest and dearest friends since High School. The gig was we wanted to go early, do our business, and get out early. Since I knew I'd probably be up mildly late on Sats, I said "9 am at AL's, and we'll boogie from there". It was to be an "Old School" Day, since the 3 of us hadn't been on an outing like this in...well, a long long time.

Well...

I show up & the Gay Burrito is already there when AL says "Hey, there's this girl who I want you two to meet that I like and she really wants to join us. Thing is, she can't be here 'Til 10 am. Is that cool". Fine, no worries. We played catch up while he told us alllll about said girl:

21 years old. Cute. Claims to have been a cop in Friendly for a couple of months before quitting. She claims to be starting Law school in September. He says she's a spitfire, funny, and sweet. And kind of reminds him of Thora Birch in "American Beauty"

When she arrives, she says a quick "Hi" to us before launching into a profanity littered tirade on her cell which started with "I'm going to f#ckin' KILL that mother f#ck#r!!!". I quietly say to AL"You know something? I think I could motherf#ckin KILL a glass of water, please". The way she tells it, her roommate is a psycho and peed on her clothes and threw her shoes to his dog to chew up. (Ohhhh kay?) She thinks she wants to file a restraining order, has never done it, and wants company if the cops have to show up while the roommate is at work. (Wait, you were a cop right?)

Oh, and by "company"? She meant all of us. (Um...say what? Did you actually just make an imposition on people you met 5 minutes ago?)

Burrito and I are exchanging the same glance while AL says "Of Course." Great.

So we drive over to her place, and her landlord and the lot of us field questions from the "ex-cop" while she calls 411 for the non-emergency phone number. (Her comment "MINNEAPOLIS ISN'T IN THE 763 AREA CODE?!?!? WHAT THE F#CK?) I ask "Why don't you look it up in the phone book?" ("Um...I don't have one") "Sweetie, everybody gets a phone book. It'll be a number that starts 612-348-****" which prompted her to get up off her a$$ and look. (Which meant she hands the phone book to her landlord who looks it up for her) Gay Burrito is looking more disgusted by the minute and AL is quietly apologizing to us up and down. When she comes back she's asking "what do I say" so I walk her through a piece by piece explanation of how to talk to the officers and to base her concerns on specific times and dates the incidents happened and why it is she feels threatened. She says "WOW, that's good. Can you write that down for me?"*

Hey last straw. How ya doin?

GB turns and says "Um, We're leaving. Drop us off at our cars and we'll meet you at the Fair." articulating what we had thought we should have done before we even left. Girl guilted Adam into staying with her until the cops showed up ("You're not going tooooooo?") while GB and I drove off disgusted and b#tching about the incident the whole time. (It's almost 11 am at this point) I took a breath and though like Dorajar would think and said that it was an adventure that was meant to happen, and not only will we still have a good time but little nutso incidences like that make you realize how far you really are in life. They call us a few hours later to meet up. After walking back around the places that We had JUST covered (Which took up another hour), we headed to the Mighty Midway. And THAT, gentle readers...That's when the complaining really started.

This young lady b#tched endlessly (Like, little kid bitched too. It was either too hot, too tired, too this, too that. Pouting, really POUTING, the entire time.) which started AL b#tching. Which in turn got GB crabby. Right before we arrived at the Eco-Building (To watch the silly video I shot earlier in the month) and after the 4th time of being asked"Do you even KNOW where this place IS?" I turned around and said "Look. If you guys want to wait here. Or go home. Whatever. I don't care. I can check this out and have a great day at the Fair alone. Otherwise? Mumbo, Jumbo, and Peaches? Please shut the f#ck up."

And I walked off. And they laughed at their new names. And then we watched the game outside of "Trash Mountain". And they laughed at me. Then we sky-trammed it back to save our aching feet. And then we hugged. And then we left.

(Sighs)

I don't think he's talking to her anymore. And it makes me happy.

And for those keeping score, the total food tally for the day was: Deep fried turkey sandwich, two beers, a pronto pup, a gyro, and we shared cookies and cheese curds.

The end.

*Granted, she could have been really really upset and she did start crying while GB and I waited outside. But still. "Write that down for me"?!?!

I don't think so.

Really a nice weekend

So sue. This week has been busy and uneventful. (With the exception of Dorajar taking me to a"new NE Mipples" restaurant behind Bollywood Imports. Authentic South Indian fare! My tikka chicken was good, but the aloo palak was very oily) Yeah...and um, I cracked my coffee urn? Whoops?

Last weekend? Pip to the Pip:

Frids- Engaged in my annual bowling loss at the alley formerly known as Stardust. I made less of an ass of myself than I normally do, and have yet to break the elusive 100 mark. Happy Birthday Wiiman!

Sats- was a running around sort of day. I went and visited my nephew and bro/sis in law out in the Savage Land. Lil' Zachy has discovered giggling and goober-kisses. He's a lamprey! And, if I may say so myself, is very good at understand refined humor. My dirty jokes went over quite well, thankyouverymuch.

I got home in time to nap, gussy up, and head to Stipples for Kaiser and Nic's wedding at Irvine Park before departing for the caves for some recepting. It was really great to be around so many people who I love so much, you know? The night was accentuated by cave tours, explaining to Bretmonster that I don't appreciate being called "Professor Von Junk", free booze/snick snacks, telling spooky Stipples/Caves ghost stories then having Ry-Gonn correct me (I kid, I kid) and dancing to awesome 80's goodness. (Props to Dorajar for her interpretive dance to "She's Like the Wind". She's been rehearsing for days)

Oh, and congrats Kaiser and NicJoy. Happiness to you both.

Sunds I made plans with AL and the gay burrito to hit the Fair. We were going to go early in the a.m. in order to get out early so that we beat the riff-raff. The day, however...proved to be a lot more interesting.

That's the next blog...

A telegram to the weather

(In light of the last 2 weeks worth of rain- Today notwithstanding...GORgeous)


"Dear Rain." (Stop)
"Stop". (Stop)

The open letter:

Rain,

This letter has been a long time coming, but I wanted to let you know that if we are to continue in this relationship we need to establish some ground rules. We've known each other long enough, and I think that since we've both grown in our respective ways (Notice how I don't go running out under cathedral drown spouts for impromtu showers when it thunderstorms in the summer? That is simply a recipe for pneumonia) I believe that these requests are completely reasonable and quite frankly- neccessary. Both for my mental health and the health of the community.

1- You are only to rain heavily on intermittent days after the last of your friend, brother snow, has left the ground and there are no longer gray piles at the end of parking lots.

2- The aforementioned rain, must be heavy. And only start between the hours of 9-3pm Monday through Friday. CST

3- This can continue (And you can keep your gray April, and early May) for no more than 3 months, but I don't think that it's difficult to provide us with no less than 15 warm/sunny days to help those of us who suffer from S.A.D. Week 2 of June is when this should subside.

4- Intermittent showers may continue during the duration of the summer, with a request that they start to taper off toward the beginning of August.

5- Showers may (again) last from between 9-3pm CST. They will not allow my commute either to or from work to be hampered and last longer than the 25 minutes it already takes. Yesterday was a grave violation of my trust, rain. 50 minutes is unacceptable.

6- Afternoon and weekend showers are banned. You will not be allowed to hamper any outdoor activities, and jogs will no longer be called "soggy joggies" thank you.

7- In an act of unFATHOMABLE generosity, I will also allow showers between the hours of 1am and 4am- CST. (These "Lil' Dribblers" as I like to call them, help me sleep. And they are MUCH cheaper than a noise machine) Light, distant thunder boomies will enhance this experience.

8- We are NOT Seattle. You may get jealous of the rampant gray wet weather they experience, but lets please let our precipatory reputation here in MN be relagated to a cold-ass February and a snowy-ass March. We DO happen to need to have our own identities, you know?


You see? I don't think that these demands are unreasonable. And I really think that you'll make friends with our farmer pals if you give them copious amounts of H20 when they need it, and not these ramshackle random mish mash antics that you find so amusing.

Not cool, Rain. Not. Cool.

Aquaman runs from the po-po

http://www.startribune.com/462/story/1377104.html


Dumbass.

Creepy

It has always (well, since I first heard it anyway) struck me as an eerie lyric:

"Many miles away, something crawls from the slime, at the bottom of a dark Scottish lake..."

http://www.lyricsdepot.com/the-police/synchronicity.html

Yeah.

In other news, it was a festive weekend. Deeeelicious birthday dinner for buddies on Friday night followed by a hoof around Lake Calhoun. (In case you were wondering, Dorajar had her happy 26th birthday yesterday! Love you darling!) Saturday she spent time w/her KU buddies while I secretly finished preparing her b'day pressies (And wrapping them all ghetto style. Hey! Don't judge me. I ran out of paper.)

That night was the actual "party party" at the casa del Mo-mags which was a pip pip happy affair even though I didn't get to bed until the wee hours. Her buddies called her WAY to frassin' early to go grab brunch at Ikes. I had no time to nappa nappa before an audition for Sun Tzu's: "Art of War" at the PWC. (Which, when you have this much f#cking construction on top of a Twin's game with a downpour to boot? Takes a good 40 minutes to get their from my place. DO NOT WANT!!!)

I DID get a nap in before meeting Dora and buddies for dinner. Note to self: Self? Adelita's has a live one-person band playing on Sunday nights. Loudly. And off key. It diminished the humor greatly after trying to shout our conversation.



Lastly, it's cold out. It has made sleeping HEAVENly (So much nicer to snuggle McCuddle under thick blankets than it is to swelter above them) However, I did have to turn my heater on briefly this morning on my commute.

Frass.

No no no...the coolness does NOT stop here

Yeah, so it's like a flood gate. Do you WANT me to show you cool s#it? DO YOU!!!


S'what I thought. A co-worker directed me here:

http://www.history.com/minisite.do?content_type=mini_home&mini_id=54986



Okay, so what if you all already know about this. SOME of us lack extendo-cool cable. (Much to my roommates occasional chagrin. I can't justify payin' for s#it that I never watch anyway unless I'm at a hotel, you know?)

Those kyoshoshinkai f#ckers are NUTS!!!

This'll be more fun, I swear

Fringe closing night gala photo's- Here:

http://fringefestival.org/slideshows/2007/party/


Who has two thumbs, glassy buzzed face and just finished what amounted to be a growler-sized Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? This guy...on slide six.


Thanks for driving, loverpants.

Funk...

So yeah. 2007 is fixin' to be the year of the fix. I haven't posted b/c (again) I've been moving through another repair related funk. This one has another tale of woe that starts at the end of the Fringe.

Story time:

Fringe tends to take the wind out of you, even if you aren't involved in a show. (It's a lot of theatre to engage in 10 days. Wipe out!) So after grabbin' lunch and "I hate Kenny G" at the PWC I went to drop Dorajar off so she could see more shows and I could get some house frass done before the Fringe Closing Gala. I noticed my car squeeley squeeley when I cornered and then hard steering. My first thought? Greeeeeat. Power Steering going out, buddy? I check for drips and peruse my Haynes manual. Fluid levels are copacetic. What up?

Monday (After the arm workout which was my commute) I started investigating more sources/possibilities on line and make an appointment for Wednesday at my neighborhood version of Jay Pea Tea at the recommendation of Redwright. My rationale was that I'd take Wednesday off, then get my car that same evening. I suggest to the mechanic that it may (might) be the Power Steering, but I wasn't sure.

Before taking off for work on Tuesday, I hit the windshield wipers to get the refuse of my car from the previous evening's storms. They were sloooooow. Check the a/c. Low blowing, even when set to "Hi". Waaaaaaaitaminnit! The ALTERNATOR!!! THAT is a much cheaper fix than any power steering nonsense. Either the alternator, or the belts. One of the two. In spite of some very sluggish accelaration, I figure I'll limp in to work and the worst case scenario if it doesn't start I'll have it towed.

Except on 35E, my panel went out. Couldn't see how fast I was going save for the speed of other cars. I'm cool, I thought. As long as I'm moving the battery is powering me along. Except when I slowed down to get to the 494 SB exit before Tamarack. Beeeeeeeeyyyyyuuuuuuuuuu. My car powered down faster than the Death Star Tractor Beam when Obi-Wan shut it off. I scuttle over underneath the "Exit Ahead" sign on the shoulder of the freeway. My workplace, 1/2 a mile away.


'Kay. This is why I have a AAA card.

It just wasn't in my wallet. I start to get shakey. Then I call information who hooks me up and then I go through about 7-8 transfers before "Lloyd" finds my info online and tells me to sit tight, it might be a while (Since the storm apparently knocked trees into cars all over the East metro, they were a little busy) I shuffle over into the passenger seat while morning rush hour whizzes past. I call work and say "Not gonna happen". I call Dorajar, my folks (Who tell me what they think it is simultaneously) and I wait. For an hour and a half. And I hadda go to the bafroom something fierce.

Tow-boy shows up and gets me hitched to the wagon. Instead of a quiet, sullen trip I decide to pick his brain regarding funniest fares, funniest tows, repair woes, what HE thinks it is, and the joys of road construction. ("I'd like to meet the a$$hole who thought construction on two corresponding freeways at the same time was a good idea" says he)

I'm dropped off with a laugh and a handshake, I give my new diagnosis to the guys. And trudge home. Karma liked me so much, they made it extra muggy outside. So I was sweating through my work duds and my hairspray ran into my eyes.


Needless to say, I was in a foul mood. They called and said "Maybe check it out sometime tomorrow since they're backed up" (More scheduled time off) When I got it back and paid the $300 (Which mom and dad started in on me as to how it was a rip off.) I was also handed a laundry list of other maladies that need addressed, some serious and others that can wait. That ended up looking to be to the tune of $800. At least I know what's wrong now.

I go home and do the one thing I can do (Change my brake light) and pout.

I am patiently awaiting the silver lining to all this nonsense. I'm fairly certain I p#$$ed someone off in a past life, and have been given 2007 as a penance. Soooooo, good thoughts are requested. Not suggestions/ideas/pity, just positive thoughts. My co-worker gave me her Jamaican Luck Doll that she bought on her vacation. She's looking at me right now...with all her cloth/karma/Jamaicany goodness.

Bring it on, mama.

Sorry.

That was a downer last post. This? This looks f#cking hysterical.

http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1809761737/video/3631941/

Gonna make you sweat-TAH!!!

Anyone else sweaty-business? Show of hands? I'm normally a big-time sweater during physical activities...jogging, karate, etc. And I don't do "humid" all that well. But lately I've been worrying myself a bit. Yesterday, I attempted to lift weights and jog for the first time in about 2 weeks (Much to the protestations of my calves and shins, which started screaming by the end of the 3rd block. Not a fun 3.5 miler) Lifting turned out to be a bigger b#tch...I dorked my left shoulder after subbing in softball and the ROM has been reduced significantly. (Punching and backfists can't be done without a knife in my rotater cuff. And dumb as it sounds, I canna put my arm around Mo with out the same deal happening. Or pull a shirt over my head.)

Teh suck.

Anyway, sweat. After activities, I need a period of cool down so that my body dries out before showering. Reason being, if I try and jump in the shower the chances that even after towelling off I start sweating again are pretty high. Well, I did just that before Mo and I walked to lunch and sure as sure, was a sweaty mess by the time we got to lunch. After we split for the night, I ran a few errands. Easy, right? HAH! Walking from my car into Rainbow I had already started to sweat. WTF!?!?

The A/C was on last night since my house was hot and muggy, and my bedroom has the LEAST circulation in the house. (Anyone want to come over and install an actual window?) Well it was above the covers to cool off, then below the covers before getting too hot. Repeat all night.

Grrrr. I. Don't. Get it. Am I poisoned? So I read this:

http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/003218.htm

And I got skeered. Cancer? Hyperthyroidism?

So, I'm calling the Doctor ASAP. And, uh...I should probably tell him that I noticed my hand shaking a little bit too. I thought it was hunger/low-blood sugar. Until I saw it after lunch.

And headache.

And a weird feeling of dizziness. Occasionally.

G#d Dammit

Safe

Hey all. If you reading this, I'm safe. I was on my way to dinner at a friends house and left @ 5:57pm (Shut up. I remember times, okay?) Anyway, I slammed into immobile traffic and called him from my car. Unmoving. (Did I mention that? I also had a bag of thawing chicky boobs in my crotch that was supposed to be dinner. Chicky Boob Au Crotcho) I told him I'd be late.

Cut to 10 additional minutes with cop cars, tow trucks, ambulances, and fire trucks whipping by on the shoulder and folks humping over the hwy median to go in the opposite direction. (Buddy here almost gets sideswiped by a cop who had some choice words for me when I was trying to get over and out of the way and one of his buddies decides to go on my left. Okay. Pick a lane, copper)

If y'all know where I live, 35W South and North is a mess, and the "My Johnson" St Exit is a bitch with all the construction already. I flick on the radio which lo and behold is "The Cities" and doodpants DJ sez "This is no joke, the Wash Ave Bridge has collapsed."

I whipped a U turn and hopped the median like everyone else.

It was frantic, but most of my immediate circle was reached in a short time (The waiting. With the cell phones. Was kind of paralyzing. Not to mention Dorajar left her cell at home, so I kinda freaked when Magrooder's answered.)


I hope all is well with everyone else. Okay? If you know my number, call or email me at home today.

Take care, be safe, and be well.

I'm gonna bet...

...That the sheer number of posts I created today, in addition to their length will cause folks to do the "scrolly/skimmy/not really reading" blog reading. And I further predict that I will receive nary a single response from my faithful readers.

I had some s#it to say, yo.

xo

Double Feature, Creature's...

Winning the "Two Birds with One Stone" category: Us.


After napping, and whipping up a tasty dinner of wheat pasta/artichokes/tomatoes/pesto we decided to treat ourselves to an actual "movie movie" date night. We were torn, and going back and forth as to what we should see (A coin toss between "Ratatouille" and "HP and the OotP".) I knew the direction she was leaning, and since time got the best of us the former one of the latter.

And what a film. Go see it. Pixar continues to amaze me, and while I know this isn't my "favorite" of the lot ("The Incredibles" will sit on that throne for a while. Sorry. Gotta represent my geek roots) it was full of so much heart I couldn't help being moved. (The critics speech at the end was, amazing. Wait. Did I just say that it was full of "Heart"? Excuse me. I need to go and get my d#ck out of that mason jar.)

Sooooooooo, we then decide very last minnit like to be all stealthy and sneak in to the last showing of "HP5". I refill my bladder splatter Diet Coke-ah, she orders a small 'corn, and it's (Insert "Mission Impossible" theme here) into theatre number 9.

Before I get into THAT movie, let's talk about previews. Now I KNOW that the previews before the film would be geared toward children's movies...what I did NOT know was that they would all look so frassin' much alike! Even "Golden Compass", which I think is going to be the bomb? Was like every trailer before or after. It got a little, you know? Obnoxious. And I love trailer's. And here I just was praying for them to end.

End rant.

So I liked it. It won't fall in the category of my favorite (Goblet and Ass-cabin are tied for that.) I liked a lot more of the elements than the ones I didn't like. The attention to the small book details (Ginny's wistful and jealous looks. #12 Grimmauld Place), The final wizard's duel, D.A training, Luna and Umbridge (Good lord, Imelda? I hated you. Like, hated hated your character. And I think that HBC is crazy)...Tonks was...Hot? So yeah. Good good good.

What I didn't like was:
The jump cuts. What, one minute Harry is packing and the next- Dumbledore's office? At least have him be summoned. Something. And more of Kreacher. I had read that the director didn't even want him in there. Okay. He's only responsible for a major plot point later in the series!!!
And where are the POV/reaction shots? It's like the director was afraid to set up reaction shots. There were too many. Too many. And the newspaper spinny deals? Fine once, or maybe bookending the film. But that many? I felt like I should be watching Spider-man or Superman.

And dude, I'm sorry. I kinda thought Harry sucked in this one. Like, he had the emotional range of cake.

I guess that the last two director's spoiled it for me. I think that they captured the sense of whimsy and the relationships between the character's better. And when the major "death" in this film happens, I just didn't have the "umphf" that the last film's did. (Even though, to his credit, the actor playing him captured the feeling from the book rather well.)

So yeah. Just glad I didn't pay for it. Buhwah ha ha ha haaaa!

Harley Pit-stain and the Breathy Swallows

I don't know how in depth to make this. I know that I don't want to (gasp!) bore you with a historical recitive on my feelings toward the series. (For that nonny nonny nonsense you can go to my blog archives, or Blogchives. July 2005. You have to scroll down a minnit, but it's there.)

Yeah. 2 years. Man. I remember sitting and demolishing the last one. Getting all Shocky McShockersoned. Re-reading it at a slower pace. And getting into my whole "It's gonna be another two years before the last one comes out...so you might as well chill out.

My. What a difference two years makes.

So. So, so, so. I loved it. I did the same thing I did the last time I read. I demolished it. I was here at work over lunch and food fell out of my mouth by around page 59. And when it was done, I had that same bittersweet feeling I had with the rest of them. Only tinged with a sense of finality. Finally finally. A way to describe the reading the first six, would be to say that after they were done I had the same feeling I get during "Good Bye's". (Sad pants) And by the time I closed the book and straightened the dust jacket it was like "Well...there it is."

Like how I feel about funerals. Sad, but that's the end of that cycle. And now it's time to look at life again.

So I won't spoil anything, unlike that asshat at B and N who did that to Melinite. No, the death's all surprised me. It was brutal. It was sad. It had some of the same Deus Ex Machina conventions that I always had a bit of a problem with. (Oooooo, everything going to hell? We got a SPELL to cover that!!!) And I even liked the epilogue because honestly? It ended how it ended. (And it was much more satisfying than, say, the last episode of "Seinfeld")

Yup. Once the old 6'er is over I'm going to re-read them all. Cover to cover. Maybe over the holidays when I'm in my cave. I'm glad I was connected and invested in this series. And really glad that the millions of people across the world feel the same. I love books.


See you around, Harry.

Shoot me!

So I mentioned that I was given a gig by FeeW a week or so ago. It was, to be sure, sorely needed income in lieu of aforementioned recent expenses (read: F#ckin' Water heater) It was pretty DL in terms of structure. Show up. (At the studio, which was a scant 1.5 miles from my house) Wear a suit shirt and lab coat. (I was a mad scientest) And read the material from cue cards about...stuff. (Its an interactive game that will be shown at the State Fair this year) Well, Ad-dude says to me "Try 'zany'...like Jim Carrey"

Oooooookay.

So I'm all over the place. Riffin' after I'm done reading the cards. Shouting. Stomping. Sweating like it's my job. Trying not to curse (It is a children's game, you know) And trying to entice whoever may be walking by the booth to come play...me. ("YOU! YOU, sir...with the fanny pack, Hawaiian shirt and black socks...WAIT! COME BACK!!!")

You get the point.

So I might tell my folks where to find it, but to be sure I don't think I wanna tell the TC theatre community at large where to find yours truly of the peanut sized head and the afro sized gelled hair acting the fool.

I'm a doof.

Burned!

Go here:

http://www.welchmillcanoeandtube.com/

It was nice, yes? So the last time I went-ah-toobin' was during my summer with SHiP, and I was all like playin' the concierge of the company. Organizing Happy Hour's at Cuzzy's and Grumpy's. Being a naughty and flirty petunia. And during the run, I got it in my head the day we were performing in Kenwood that we should go toobin'! So my soon-to-be girlfriend, myself, and about 4-5 folks in the cast (Including Ry-gonn if memory serves) truck on down to the A.R. in Somerset. We tubed. We burned. We drank Strongbow cider by the can. (And here, reader's, is where Baby P learned that cider doesn't sit well in his tummy) And the only display of public noodity to be seen on the trip was a bunch of mulleted, crimson-necked doods who screamed "Show yer t#t's" to our crew (To which the women screamed back "F#CK YOU. SHOW YOURS!!!" And here is where I mentally shouted "Nooooooooooooo"!) And they did. And I died a little inside.

How, on the drive home, I had to pull on my leg hairs just to stay awake. And how the show that evening was...how do you say? "Low Energy". From 6 of us. Including moi. I remember it was fun, but that I smelled like dead fish and that this was probably the end of an era.

So fast forward to Sunday, day. After a brief organization, we got a group of about 11 of us to go cruisin' down the "clean" river. (And it was, to be sure. You could even see fish-a-jumpin') Armed with aqua-socks, sunblock, and a full cooler (Plus a plastic bottle full of Morgan's courtesy of D and A) We trekked off. And it was great fun had by all. Much laughing. Much dunking. Much drinking and sun-worshipping. And much showing of how much of a bad packer I can sometimes be.

I made several discoveries on the trip back and the subsequent following day (Thanks again for driving, beautiful)

I was burnt. Badly. In spite of slathering on the lube, I neglected to use SPF 30 and boy did it show. (Getting out of the shower, it was all I could do to not laugh at how ridiculous I looked)

I was sore as f#ck. The river was a little low, and so occasional I'd take a rock to the old tuckass. (Ouch) or if I was face down, I scraped the holy f#ck out of my leg. Also, I was on detail to drag our convoy away from the banks. My biceps and back were killin'. That was something I hadn't anticipated.

I lost my shades, and I almost ruined my cowboy hat. Frass!

And when I got back home, I must have gravely underestimated the amount of alcohol I put in my jug. My gut felt rotten. Trying to put down the Thai food later was a struggle, at best.

INsomnia- Didn't sleep a wink. Tossing...turning...fabric was my enemy. Not a lick of sleep. And I could barely make it through Monday.

So yeah. Oof. My big kid body was totally unprepared for the assault laid on it. (DurrrrAMA!) I think a blast was had by all. I know I did.

I think I'm gonna stick to water parks next year. ; P

Ketchup.

Okay.


So I haven't posted a s#it ton.

Sue me.

Not too much has been shaking since returning from vacay. The mega-hot weather has been mega-hot. I got tasked with getting my hot water heater fixed, which had gotten me down in the dumps. (Again, Baby P the broken record. $$$ always seems to make buddy boy into a Debbie Downer. I ask only for a little understanding, Yentl reader's. I've already spent $3,000 this year in various expenses. That's gotten me knicker's in a right pinch, wot-wot.)

But it's fixed. And the H2O is back to hot. Back in business.

I could jive about exercise. When you're po', you tend to engage in activities that are low in cash necessity. So over the last two weeks or so, it's been a lot of jog jog jog, lift lift lift, ' Fu. (Notice the "'Fu" is not in the rotation as frequently. Again, being busy and mopey since returning from the Southwest has also affected my attendence. That, and the school I attend is undergoing an ownership change. And Caturday, when I usually attend, has been taken up with Projects...) I proved my shoddy meddle during an unofficial CB gathering up the street from me @ Audubon Park. We played kickball. And lord oh lord did it help me realize how out of shape I am. (I booted a home run and I sprinted 'round the bases. By the time I got home, I was "hands on my knee's sucking wind" panting. Hey! I didn't want any ghost-runner's lingering!!!)

Speaking of projects, I could namby about painting my garage with Dad and Dorajar. Booooooring. About mowing and planting perrennial's. Or parties? About the lil' joint B'day for Brandino and Grimesey @ Erte'. The sad going away party @Benheidwick's for JeeF and MeeF. (Where Dorajar and I proteined ourselves out on Turkey meat) Or meeting Chowser and his WeeF for cheap eats and frassin'.

Of coooooourse, I could also talk about this lil' old sumpthin' sumpthin' that happened a little over a week ago in the form of a lil' old hardcover novel serial about a lil' old scarfaced teenager needing to fight the good fight. (Truthfully, I got mega-Pottered out by all the hype. As much as I love love love the franchise, and have the book and read it in 3 days? I was so overwhelmed with people going on about it that it kind of rubbed me wrong. Just...can we calm down and enjoy? Ooof. Go to "Thornehouse.blogspot.com" to read a take on what happens when you work @ the B to Nizoble during Pottermania. Not pretty. Not neighborly.)

Great book, btw. Just what I wanted. And after completing my 6, I'm re-reading the entire frackin' series from stem to stern. N'yah.

I coooooould also frass about tooooooobin'. Thass right, I haven't toobed in 8 years? (The Pissle River in 'Sconnie lost it's appeal by my late twenties) However, the Cannon River was clean and pristene. And after being bribed with having my way paid (Thanks darling) And D-Baby and 'Lis plying me with booze (Thanks guys) we went for a leisurely 3.5 hour float.

And f#ck, was it fun. And f#ck, did I turn into a river casualty. More later.

Or food? How about food? How I've been working to perfect some of the meager dishes that we enjoyed in the Southwest. (The brefkist burrito mit pepper's, 'matoes, egg's, black beans, avocado, soy cheese, and covered in chile' sauce? It's working!)

Or my video taping? (Thank you Redwright, for the hook up) More later. To the good people that work at that ad agency? Never give me carte blanche on camera. I waste film.

Or the sneaky business Dorajar and I engaged in last night? Sneeeeeeeeaky business. More later.

Yeah. When I get in a mopey mood, I tend to cave myself in. It's maudlyn, to be sure. But it's me. And I had to hang with it for a while. Coo'?


Cool.