It ain't a kung fu show unless I get hurt...

Quotes from todays rehearsal:

Masser D: "Well, it's supported by the text..." (A comment born from the fact that I suggested the trio attack the "great and powerful Oz" with a flurry of "Tornado Kicks"...Get it? Gah. Heathens. Watch the movie)

Chowsible: "Dude, I'm sorry. You get hurt in every single show we do"

In all fairness, I don't think I got hurt in "Pop-Top-Frassy-Banana-Hammock Fringe show" I may have hurt people's eyes when I careened off stage nearly nekkid...but I did okay otherwise.

That's right, folks. At 'hearsal today we managed to obtain the GTLChurches "Robby Room" that was vacant to do our lil' practice skit for "5/5th's O' Da Fringey". It's nice b/c it's bigger than the fireside room and gives a chance to do our thang. So we're frasseda frasseda frasseda frassing away the afternoon. Kickin' and punchin' and trying our bestest to be the creative types we pretend to be. I was gonna put my shoes on to run to the loo when I thought I first noticed blood on the hardwood.

Ok.

I came back and took my shoesies and socks off when I saw some on my sock when I thought...fuck. Figuring I could continue until I noticed I was...ahem..."leaving a trail"...I sat there sweating and looking at my foot for any possible signs of the source of the injury (Through the accumulation of grossness and dried...ichor.)

Here is where I should say that my unnatural weirdness towards germs comes in. I have a pretty high "ick factor", but when your brain starts thinking "Hey, this is the kids play room. Unswept. Probably crawling with cooties. And you have an open cut on your foot". Needless to say I found myself distracted. And upset that I allowed myself to distract myself from the rehearsal that we needed. (We do our thang in two weeks time) I thought if I put my shoes on and said "Hey. I got an owie. I'll be continuing with shoes" that would help shield my conscience and body from disease. It was only when I put pressure down on my foot that I realized the worst: There was something in the cut that was causing discomfort. (Not pain. I'm a tough mammie jam) And would need removal before we continued.

Our scene was about to start and I selfishly had to ask Herr Direcktor for a mo' to dig around the cut and find the irratible source. No easy feat b/c (A) I had just cut my nails and no one had a tweezers...well, to be fair Shinobi-wan offered a knife. And (B) it was covered in schmutz. Gross.

So the rest of the crew cleaned my foulness from the floor. (Sorry, Torch, if you're in there) while I delicately felt around my footsies for the source. It was found, in the form of an itty-bitty piece of glass/plastic that was no bigger than the tip of a pencil. I wiped my foot down as best I could. The rest of the group put their shoes on as well. And we continued until the end.

All told, I didn't feel as par as I could have. My 'ography felt stiff and "uncool". I, felt stiff and uncool. In my mind, I felt like I was going through the motions and was moving like a novice on their first day of their "30-day trial program" at (insert style of martial art here) instead of a guy who has been working on his style for almost a decade. (God, RSvP. I remember when you first said that about yourself. It sounds so big when you say "A decade") So, I was tired, self-loathable, frassy, and in need of de-bacterialising.

Tonight, I hope to be different. I'm going to Chowie's thing at the German Ba'. Then Melinite's thing at the Nordeast Old School Ba'. Then home. Then bed.

If my foot gets amputated...I hope they let me keep it.


ps: Um. There might be a chance that Robb the b-boy might not be able to do ONE night of "GMIKFTH". Iiiiiiii know you're going to be all dad-like and stuff, but I was wondering if the big bro could scam out of changing pampies for one night to, uh, sub in? IJS. Thought I'd ask in a public forum. HA!

pps: The wunnerful Dorajar got me a gift today, on a whim. A candle that smells like "my heritage"...Japanese Cherry Blossom. It smells amazing. And making me feel more Asian than I should. I love amazingly thoughtful and random gifts.

Happy Birthday Melinite!

(I originally posted "Melinte" which would have made for ver' funny!) Here's to the gal I first met (after initial C'board frass) at a Mu callback, who has one of THE BEST LAUGHS I have ever heard, and an unbridled appreciation for dim sum. In short, even though she's half Martian and not half Chinese...she's a terrific lady


I love you, and many happy returns!


XOXOXOXOX









I kid. She actually is of the Asian decent. And Martian. A bonus b/c she has tentacles to sick on the last piece of Chinese broccoli. We'll see you tonight, love.

Hurry up already!

So my "SiL" is due. Big time dueski and hutch. Her "date" (Emphasis on the flexibility) was today. I know, I know...the stork can be a fickle fig. But I wanna know already. Niece? Nephew? Niecphew?

Anyway, more to come from Uncle P.


Getting impatient here. ; )

Why I shouldn't be allowed to house sit...

So Portana and Tech are hitched, and Dorajar and I house/dog sat out in the sticks. Way, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay out in the sticks. Sea of beige and all that. Before their arrival, I left the usual note letting them know how the week went. (Rather, I left a shorter note saying I'd email since my handwriting is gawdawful) After typing the email, I decided to send another email as a sort of direct response to some of the instructions they had left regarding the puppies/house in general. Way tongue in cheek, this is what I do with my time when I'm not studying. Way. I present you with...our week in Rosemount: *(Some additions have been made after the fact, as those funny lil' ideas kept popping in there)



Portana-

First off, my heartiest congratulations on your new life! Marriage. Wow. That's just...great. Anyhey...even though you're all married and stuff, and probably have some really great trip stories I suppose you are anxious to hear all about our week housesitting. Great.

Well, first off Dorajar and I arrived without a hitch. Granted, we pulled into the wrong house and walked in on a family having dinner...but they quickly corrected us. So friendly! We let the dogs in and scamper around for a bit, realizing after a half an hour or so that you didn't want muddy paws tracking. Dang! Well, by then they were pretty clean so we just let them shake out the remaining crusties. So much easier than a bath, lemme tell ya!

The week was pretty uninteresting. Dogs in, dogs out. By Monday, we decided to play a game called "Lets try on Portana and Tech's clothes and see if we can fool the neighbors and townsfolk!" Was that ever a qualified success! Sure, he's a good deal taller than I am, but I was able to "peg" his pants to the appropriate length. So freeing, the 80's "pegged" jeans. I'm bringing that one back for sure.

While wearing your clothes, we'd happen into shops along scenic sunny Cty Rd. 42. Dialogue would ensue, such as "Hi, I'm Tech. Durpa durpa do. I work with computers. Process codes, HittlMil HittMil, Jooba Jooba...cray. Did you know that "Cray" puts the "Gay" in computers? Well, have a gay Cray Day, Mr. Eddie Chengs employee!" They fell in love with us all over. I called up Cray and said that I was Tech and was quitting to work at the Apple Valley and Rosemount Caribou coffee (As a double, please. I need the money. And they are so CLOSE to each other on Cty. Rd. 42, how could I not?)

We had EVERYone fooled. Even your neighbors. Sure, they were suspect at first...but after a bit of impersonation, they were bamboozled! One of the neighborhood kids, let's call him "Enrique", even said..."I know you aren't the real Tech and Portana, but if I could have anything in the world...even more than the new kidney transplant I'm supposed to receive? It'd be having you...Tech and Portana 2.0, as my new neighbors....I...I...love you. Don't ever leave me. Please." Well, what do you say about something like that? So, I gave him $5 and told him to run around in a circle in his back yard for 20 minutes while Dorajar and I cleared our consciouses over another bottle of wine.

Also, if we get any packages could you please forward those on? We had a dickens of a time running credit card numbers when our signatures didn't match yours so it'd be super helpful if you could do that. Thanks.

I suppose you're more curious about your kids? Well, we had fun. I felt kind of bad about leaving them outside during the day so I locked them inside. Don't worry, I ratcheted the heat up to 85 degree's in order to better simulate their natural environment. AND I made sure to leave the lights on all over to conquer Sammy's fear of the dark. (Which was probably born after Mo and I locked her in the closet our first night. What do we know? We don't have dogs! We thought her whining was because she wanted a towel!) In order to better take care of them, we made sure they slept lovingly between us. When your Automatic thermostat dropped the temps at night, they sure did keep us warm!

Dorajar and I made up this fun game called "Let's see how fast we can get the doggies in from the rain and into bed with us!" They would usually win, but don't worry about a mess! The time it'd take to get them up the deck stairs and in the house would be PLENTY of time to dry. Sometimes. We were able to brainwash those dirty bastards through a combination of calling each other by your names, and dog roofies. Sold at a local Petsmart. Don't worry, Sammy's stomach was fine. In fact, she's been lying in the same position behind the chair for the last 5 days. Seriously, hasn't moved. It's kinda weird. Likes she's waiting for her close up or something. And I knoooow you said not to feed them human food, but Bogey was so joyful over "burrito night". That dog can put away some frijoles negroes, lemme tell you! (Oh, we were letting those spots air out a bit. They should be good and dry by the time you get home)

So the computer. Well, I know that you didn't want it shut off Nic...but the whine from your system was just too much to bear...so I put it in the tub. Oh, if you happen to find any websites that have "Teen", "Sexy Senior", "Shaved", or "Midget Pumpers"? That was Dorajar. I did my best to insert a magnet into the hard drive in order to clean that up.

Lastly the house. Man, this place is GREAT! I didn't know that your treadmill had a water holder...Moreover, I didn't know that it couldn't hold a martini glass. So if you use it, you might want to wear shoes. I'm not too sure how much glass was actually ground in the track. Oh, and I tried to use a steak knife to start Tech's Fatboy to no avail. So, we took naked pics sitting astride it. Look forward to Christmas cards, 2007! I hope you don't mind either, but as for the nudity we do insist on sleeping nude. And so as to not waste your water, we decided NOT to shower while we were here. Weird. Dorajar, however, did use your razor to "dry shave" her legs. That was fine. She had a couple of bumps that were from previous nicks that hadn't quite healed yet, but they were quickly dried off with your towels.

Did you know that condoms don't flush very well? SPEAKING of which, in order to save water, Dorajar and I played another game called "Let's see how long we can use the toilet before flushing!". (Don't mean to brag, but I usually won. Sure, I'd cheat and use the shower or bathtub but come ON! That was a really gross game. Oh, and if you see any refuse...you might wanna flush twice. IJS)

That's about all I can think of. I hope you both had a great time and It'll be wonderful to see you both as hubby and wife. If you find a dime sack anywhere you can keep it. I was worried that one of the dogs might've ate my weed but I think it was just misplaced behind the Tumeric. I was too lazy to check.

Warmest regards!

Baby P

Age 12 revisited...

The a.m. conversation. Overheard at "The Coffee Kiosk". Little old woman from Mutual Funds and her little buddy. Both being very eco-consious, they brought their own silver and black coffee mugs to have them filled.

I'm distracted, concocting the perfect cream/sugar mix and so my back is to them. Got the visual?

Cashier: "Oooooooo, yours is bigger than his"
Lady: "Oh, not by much. Mines long and skinnier and his is a little shorter but thicker around"
Cashier: "Well I guess your right. Is that good? Did I get it all in there?"
Lady: "Oh yes. I think you filled it up"

I might be "in a mood", as the case may be (When am I ever really not?) But I really can't make this s#it up.

I would probably be completely remiss...

Completely, if I didn't offer congratulations/peace/love to one Miz (now "Mrs.") PORTANA! She and are down in May-hee-co eloping away on a cruise ship, whilst I house sit out in the sticks and watch over their frassy dogs.


The very best to you both guys! You deserve it!


(And Mo and I are eating all of your food. BUH WAH HA HA HA HA!!!)

Too funny not to post...

Except that it loses it's impact a bit when it isn't catching your eye on the front of a newspaper in the breakroom during training:

http://www.startribune.com/467/story/1068703.html


Cockfighting...btw. I regressed to age 10.

'Cause I think it's funny

This was a meme I answered on the board of call. I was in rare form (By rare form I meant "I spent a couple of hours in a hot tub last night with a couple of glasses of boxed Chard so I woke up a flibbertygibbet) Annnnyway, it's tongue in cheek. As most of my responses to these things tend to be. I have a particular aversion to stupid sounding questions, so I wrote it with a smidgen of earnestness and a dollop of misanthropy to boot. So, here's my Myspace QOD. With apologies for typo's- I give you...the question Thirty Three


33. There's a hottie across the room. How do you get his/her attention?

A “hottie”? Who wrote this? Some High School tool? Jeez louise and double the cheese, this question has zero panache or moxie. Do you expect to ever meet someone using that archaic language? Or get laid? (since clearly your motive has been established by your lack of respect toward the individual whose attention you hope to obtain. You’ve already reduced them to a “thing”. Do you want to come across as a serial killer Mr. or Ms. Gein? Didn’t think so.)

You have got, to take, your time. Patience, brushfire. File those stupid ass lines in your mental Douche-a-dex, and settle down. Okay? First of all, if you feel able to- introduce yourself and be bold. Have they made eye contact? Does there seem to be a sense of mutual attraction? If yes, you can proceed to step two- Find a way to be in a similar room together. At a party, this can be the kitchen. DO NOT try to do this in the loo. You will increase your creepy Oompa Loompa factor by 10. (Unless, you know, they’re into that sort of thing. Far be it from me to judge) Or, if you haven’t already, introduce yourself (No, I repeat, NO aliases. You ain’t Bond) When they say their name, repeat it back to them “Hi ____”. Shake hands…wait! Stop staring at the crotch/tits/whatever. MAKE EYE CONTACT. Holy balls you can’t get your frassin’ mind out of the gutter!

Okay, so talk. Ask questions about them. Not lame oh shit, like “Sooooooo, do you like…stuff?”. Who are you here with? What do you do when you aren’t imbibing in mom and dads basement (Note to all: I’m wearing my misanthropy thinly today, and have made an arbitrary decision that this party is at someone’s parents, or in a rented houses basement) Sometimes boldness works in this case. If they really are the most beautiful person you’ve seen, is it awful to say so? (And NOT “You’re soooo the hottest person HERE”…just say it in a general sense. Or compliment them on something they’re wearing/feature. Avoid the naughty bits, ya perv)

Have you guys actually read this far? Damn…

Don’t be presumptious and sidle up on the couch. Give’em space. Ask if you may sit. Be polite. Please, Thank you…all that fun stuff. Act interested. (At this point, if you’ve lost interest there is nothing wrong with exiting the conversation, feigning a cell phone call, or jumping out a window. Take your pick) If things progress and it seems everything is honky dorey, ask if they’d like to go out for coffee some time. (NOT drinks/dinner. Number one, that’s MEGA presumptious, and two…what if they’re a teetotaler? Coffee/Tea says you’re interested in getting to know more. Booze says “I’mmmmm really only interested in screwability at this point.” ) Okay. Make sense? Barring all of that, slip a coupla roof-roofs in their drink when they aren’t looking. (Or pour the remaining contents of your drink into theirs…Oooooooo that was for you Alisa) Easy as pie.






Disclaimer, and this is especially for all the crazy new members/lurkers: I don’t actually endorse the use of roofies at all. I wouldn’t know a roofie from a childrens Tylenol.

Secondly (And this is even more hyperbolish bullshit) Actual results may vary from person to person. Results from yours truly are clinical in nature, and have in no way completed a successful coupling. Actual outcomes are weighed on a case by case basis. See your store for details. Before engaging in said roofie, bear in mind that certain sexual side effects may occur, including dizziness, nausea, drowsiness, itching, chafing, cursing, blindness, if you are male then your wee-wee may fall of in the john when you go, in women-you may end up growing a new set of tatties where your shoulder blades are. If you’ve read this far, I commend you…and encourage you to get back to work. If this works for you, let a man know via PM. It’d make for a hella good story.

T-Shirts I've found...that make me smile

Seriously...There were so many more, I almost couldn't stop. And you can probably find any (Birthday, X-mas, Half-birthday) type gift for me here:

80stees.com

Now, I know that I don't need a Cobra Kai or Thundercats belt buckle. That don't mean that it isn't a necessity...

My heroes have always been strangers...

Attention...

Someone fashioned a large p#nis and testicles around a tree somewhere between St. Anthony Pkwy and 37th Ave NE on Central Ave. I crap you negative, I'm driving to the bank when out of my peripheral vision I spy with my little eye the snow pushed up cylindrically around a smallish tree-trunk and a bulbous area at the top. At the base (Well, where the snow berm is) were two huge snow balls. This would have all gone unnoticed by yours truly, dismissing it as just snow-plow fodder except...

The person spraypainted the darn thing pink.

If you live in, or around the NE Mipples/Columbia Heights area and can catch it before night fall...do. I almost ran off the road laughing. And wanted to kick myself for losing my cell phone.



That is all.


(Quick edit: After returning from class on Saturday, I brought a camera with and managed to snap a picture that is liable to look like nothing to the normal view. Sufficed to say, the balls had tree branch hairs sticking out of it to give the appearance of "hairs"...Seriously, I can't make this up.)

Bill Murray has accepted my friendship on "Mystalker"...I can die happy now.

"Yes, your honor...it's true. This man has no dick"



ION. I'm home. After close to a 85 minute commute from Woodbury, I stayed in. I shovelled my front 3 times. (Once "full out". The other two were just to make foot paths to my car) I went to bed early. Got up uber-early. Called the ol' workski "weather line" that said "WE OPEN!", and promptly thought to myself: "F#ck the hell outta you". And called in. After lying in bed dreaming about work costume parties where I'm wearing the camo-pants from "KFH", and having them tear open for some reason, revealing everything up to my underpants. I'm sent home from work, but ultimately get stuck in my car. Cold winter air blowing into my torn trousers. And I'm craving a bloody mary. I woke up to my roommate POUNDING on my door saying "SNOW EMERGENCY IN 10 MINUTES! YOU'RE GONNA WANNA MOVE YOUR CAR!!!"

Grumble.

So we go out and shovel around our vehicles, RE-shovel the walk (4x's now) which has accumulated another 10 inches overnight. Help a few poor people get "un-stuck" (Seriously folks...ROCK your car. Don't just put it in drive and try to go. It won't. Work.) And shovel another section of snow on the "odd" side of the straSSe in order to park my car so that it doesn't find herself stuck as well.


Karma Boo-Foo'ed me when I got undressed out of my wet and snowy duds. I was running upstairs when BOOM hit my left foot on something and when I looked down ("Damn...I have hairy toes!") and I was bleeding like a sieve. After warshing it off, I somehow managed to take a chunk out of the top of my middle toe- So after trimming the superfluous...um, skin. (Sorry) and coating it with liquid skin?

Heck, I feel like a new man!


No plans this weekend outside studying. Y'all should stay inside if you can. This weather is re-dick.


xo