1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
All of them, but mostly the home equity line of credit b/c it just…doesn’t..move
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
Zelo is up there.
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Um, I can’t even remember. Pre-2000?
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Medora. It’s about the only place I know that let’s you.
5. Name of your First Grade Teacher?
Mr. Stout. Mixed 1st/2nd grade class.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
House frass or work out.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
What didn’t I want to be? Forensic Pathologist, US Special Forces, Spider Man…
8. How many colleges did you attend?2
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
Polo shirt days are dwindling.
10. Gas Prices! First Thought?
Fucking pricey, happy they dropped
11. If you could visit anywhere, where would you go?
Europe. The whole of Europe.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
I didn’t set it.
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Thank God.
14. Favorite style of Underwear?
Underwear?
15. Favorite style of Underwear for the opposite sex?
Underwear?
16. What Errand/Chore do you despise?
Laundry
17. If you didn't have to work would you volunteer at an art gallery?
Most definitely
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Early
20. Favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Theatre/Movie/Spar/Dinner…what?
21. A secret that you wouldn't mind everyone knowing?
I don’t think I have any
22. What would be your ultimate dream job?
Freelance Philanthropist
23. Do you belong to the mile high club??
Oh. Right. "Sex on a plane"…Most flights don’t last long enough. (Ooooo, dirty dirty)
24. Your Favorite Lunch Meat?
Turkey Breast
25. What do you get every time you go into a Wal-Mart?
I’m more of a Target guy. And it’s toiletries and some other superfluous object that I get suckered into buying. Target could charge a cover and I could be dirty-assed poor and I’d still pay it. Damn you, Bullseye. Damn. You.
26. Beach or Lake?
Beeeeeach.
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
No.
29. Favorite Guilty Pleasure?
All you can eat Buffets. Indian. Chinese. Thai. Vegas. I’m ruthless. Although I’ve scaled back from the 3 plate days and I can usually get 2 in before starting to feel uncomfortable in my pants. (Oooooo, dirty dirty)
31. What's your drink?
Caffeine. Lots. (Capt. Diet, or Pinot Grigio)
34. Do you cheer for the bad guy?
I beer for the Chad guy.
37. What do you want when you are sick?
I’m rarely ill. When I am? Sleeeeeeep.
38. Who from High School would you like to run into?
My ex. Then I’d back up the car to run over ‘er again! HEY-OH (I’m kidding. Brownie? Toussaint? Steve? I just re-connected with a HS mate recently, so I feel pretty good about that.)
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
89.3…the Current baby.
Apparently an "Amber Alert" needs to be issued for 40-44
45. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work? She’s out on maternity leave, so…yes?
47. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Wolfgang Puck or Emeril. I’d be guaranteed a fantastic meal.
48. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
My super secret cadre of girlfriends is growing. I’ve recently added Natalie Portman after seeing "Garden State" for the first time. Any other appearance, though? She bugs.
49. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose? Just for practice at a former job . I tend to put out fires with my body50. Last book you read for real?In the middle of Series 6 licensing. Wheeeeee.
51. Do you have a teddy bear?
No.
52. Strangest Place you have ever brushed your teeth?
At my desk at work.
53. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
Wine Country
54. Number of texts in a day?
Varies
55. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Career, yo.
56. Do you go to church?
Saint Paul Cathedral for the gorgeous architecture.
59. How many jobs have you had?
Since 1993: 4
As an actor. A couple
60. What do you want to achieve in life?
Peace of mind. Barring that, I'd personally like spinach to get better.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
YAR! (Ninja's are still cooler)
My pirate name is:
Bloody Roger Bonney
Every pirate lives for something different. For some, it's the open sea. For others (the masochists), it's the food. For you, it's definitely the fighting. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.part of the fidius.org network
Monday, September 18, 2006
So…I get this flyer in the mail that has an near-nekkid man running his fingers through his hair in the mail. Skeptical, I accept that this is a flyer may in fact be for an upcoming theatrical production. Without flippin’ the card, I first notice the playwright: Rod Serling. "SWEET!" I exclaim. Mr. Twilight Zone is giving us a play that’s going to be about, like, aliens and telekinetic freaky kids and shit. He wrote a PLAY!?!? This is gotta be geek paradise. I felt duty bound as an actor to see this work. "Maybe this ‘Heavyweight’ for which it is titled will be crawling around on the wing of a plane, or some shit. Maybe a freaked out passenger will see this totemistic and frightening demon ripping out parts of the fuselage." Oooooo, do you want to see something REALLY scary?!?!?!?! Remember that line? Scared the pants off of me it did.
Then I flipped the card over and found out it was actually about a down-on-his-luck boxer who’s past his prime. WTF? What kind of false advertising is this? Boy, was I fooled. Then I thought "Maybe the boxer makes a deal with the devil or some shit and then fools the Devil into not taking his soul during the last few moments of the play?"
No? You probably think that I'm setting myself up for disappointment then, eh? And you nay sayer's are going to tell me next that there's probably nary even a butt-f#cking alien midget in the entire production. Harrumph, I say to you naysayers...
You shoulda seen how pissed off I was when I found out "Foxfire" wasn’t the same as the 1982 Clint Eastwood action thriller about a guy who can control a plane with his brain. It was about old people and shit. Although there was a ghost. Ghost's are cool. And seemingly more Serling-esque.
Seriously. How cool of a play would that be? Sssshshrrrroooom! Vrrrroooom! It’d be GOLDEN!
And can I get some poor bastard to undertake directing "A Fish Called Wanda" so that I can play frassin’ Otto? That’d be cooooool.
Then I flipped the card over and found out it was actually about a down-on-his-luck boxer who’s past his prime. WTF? What kind of false advertising is this? Boy, was I fooled. Then I thought "Maybe the boxer makes a deal with the devil or some shit and then fools the Devil into not taking his soul during the last few moments of the play?"
No? You probably think that I'm setting myself up for disappointment then, eh? And you nay sayer's are going to tell me next that there's probably nary even a butt-f#cking alien midget in the entire production. Harrumph, I say to you naysayers...
You shoulda seen how pissed off I was when I found out "Foxfire" wasn’t the same as the 1982 Clint Eastwood action thriller about a guy who can control a plane with his brain. It was about old people and shit. Although there was a ghost. Ghost's are cool. And seemingly more Serling-esque.
Seriously. How cool of a play would that be? Sssshshrrrroooom! Vrrrroooom! It’d be GOLDEN!
And can I get some poor bastard to undertake directing "A Fish Called Wanda" so that I can play frassin’ Otto? That’d be cooooool.
Irrveybuddies in skool...
MD is taking night classes...
Dorajar started a new job at the Ooniversity, with a later intent of taking grad classes.
Quite frankly, they’re mad as nutters.
College was college to me. I excelled at the right brain stuff (As most artsy’s are wont to do) and decelerated at the left brain stuff. Except science. Loved science. Is that backwards? When I got out, I felt ready to groove.
So it figures that my employer, who follows strict gov’t regulations now makes it mandatory for certain employee’s to become licensed to manhandle our products. They pay for the daily classes. They even provide us with a cash reward for passing. The material…is just, frickin’, boring. Like, Ny-quil for the brain boring. And I’m a slow reader for material such as this, and in spite of my best efforts to stay positive and focused it makes me feel like I have the attention span of a parsnip.
But…if I want to keep putting the douche in fiduciary (Read: Keep my job) I gotta pass.
Ugh. It’s taken me a week to get through chapter one. A week.
And the scary thing is when I listen to "Marketplace" on MPR, I actually kind of understand what they’re talking about.
If only the text book were a movie with ninjas, lightsabers, hobbits, and nudity. I’d have probably watched it 7 times by now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that classes this time around won't involve toga parties, kegger's, bike rides from the East to West Bank, and orgies in the pit of Rarig.
Thanks, Enron. Dicks.
Dorajar started a new job at the Ooniversity, with a later intent of taking grad classes.
Quite frankly, they’re mad as nutters.
College was college to me. I excelled at the right brain stuff (As most artsy’s are wont to do) and decelerated at the left brain stuff. Except science. Loved science. Is that backwards? When I got out, I felt ready to groove.
So it figures that my employer, who follows strict gov’t regulations now makes it mandatory for certain employee’s to become licensed to manhandle our products. They pay for the daily classes. They even provide us with a cash reward for passing. The material…is just, frickin’, boring. Like, Ny-quil for the brain boring. And I’m a slow reader for material such as this, and in spite of my best efforts to stay positive and focused it makes me feel like I have the attention span of a parsnip.
But…if I want to keep putting the douche in fiduciary (Read: Keep my job) I gotta pass.
Ugh. It’s taken me a week to get through chapter one. A week.
And the scary thing is when I listen to "Marketplace" on MPR, I actually kind of understand what they’re talking about.
If only the text book were a movie with ninjas, lightsabers, hobbits, and nudity. I’d have probably watched it 7 times by now.
I have a sneaking suspicion that classes this time around won't involve toga parties, kegger's, bike rides from the East to West Bank, and orgies in the pit of Rarig.
Thanks, Enron. Dicks.
This seems all too familiar
Well kitlins. I’m 0 for 2 in terms of auditioning and not getting cast. 1st one was for "PMS: Your Cat gives Head" and the 2nd for "Amadouchebag". I’m not frassin’..part of the biz…but I got the "Thanks but No Thanks" for both shows within an hour from each other- which is a mixed blessing I suppose. No waiting for the call, get it out of the way and all that. But not so good b/c I got the news about one show right before my callback started which I think put me in a bad frame of mind before I went in. (Thinking that I didn’t get it before I even was called in. Pessimistic and defeatist, yes. But...it’s a safety mechanism in order for me to not get my hopes up. Secretly, I harbor a desire to come across as cool and unaffected, rather than guarded and pessimistic. I’m failing at that, aren’t I?)
Familiar, too, b/c this seems to be the same thing that happened lass year around this time when I went out for a couple o’ shows and received a resounding negative. I almost entertained the notion that I’m only good on stage when I’m beating people up and someone else says my lines off stage. (lol). Let’s get a remount up, Chowie. It’ll be GOLDEN!
Funny and weird accidents…
So a sign that I was to receive the "post-audition" let downs that I did may have came in the form of a car accident. A bad one, in fact. Right, in front, of the theatre. There we were, a dozen actors, quietly milling about a locked theatre (b/c get this: THEY were stuck in traffic due to a car accident) trying not to look like we were lookilu’s or like those kink freaks from the movie "Crash" who call each other when there’s a a car wreck and get off to it. The scenario was dumb after we heard what happened. Person on their cell phone while driving doesn’t see the other person whip a "U-ie" and whammo. Sad.
But this whole weekend has had these accidents. Friday, traffic from Woodbury to Mipples was Horrible due to a school bus that had ran off the road and up on the embankment. (No, no kids were hurt. But do you know the SIZE of the towtruck that has to get said schoolbus? Let’s just say that 3 outta 4 lanes were blocked on EB 94.) Besides the accident in front of the Mounds, people were driving like s#it (Mopes almost got hit on Hennepin due to a douche-y driver. Then again turning on my Johnson when the car behind her tried to turn left in between two pylon’s, nearly side swiping her.) I almost got hit by a douchebag that was TOTALLY not looking when I was coming home from Ma and Dad’s (Whipping out without looking over their shoulder to see me coming…) It was a mess.
So, drive safe my gentle warriors.
Familiar, too, b/c this seems to be the same thing that happened lass year around this time when I went out for a couple o’ shows and received a resounding negative. I almost entertained the notion that I’m only good on stage when I’m beating people up and someone else says my lines off stage. (lol). Let’s get a remount up, Chowie. It’ll be GOLDEN!
Funny and weird accidents…
So a sign that I was to receive the "post-audition" let downs that I did may have came in the form of a car accident. A bad one, in fact. Right, in front, of the theatre. There we were, a dozen actors, quietly milling about a locked theatre (b/c get this: THEY were stuck in traffic due to a car accident) trying not to look like we were lookilu’s or like those kink freaks from the movie "Crash" who call each other when there’s a a car wreck and get off to it. The scenario was dumb after we heard what happened. Person on their cell phone while driving doesn’t see the other person whip a "U-ie" and whammo. Sad.
But this whole weekend has had these accidents. Friday, traffic from Woodbury to Mipples was Horrible due to a school bus that had ran off the road and up on the embankment. (No, no kids were hurt. But do you know the SIZE of the towtruck that has to get said schoolbus? Let’s just say that 3 outta 4 lanes were blocked on EB 94.) Besides the accident in front of the Mounds, people were driving like s#it (Mopes almost got hit on Hennepin due to a douche-y driver. Then again turning on my Johnson when the car behind her tried to turn left in between two pylon’s, nearly side swiping her.) I almost got hit by a douchebag that was TOTALLY not looking when I was coming home from Ma and Dad’s (Whipping out without looking over their shoulder to see me coming…) It was a mess.
So, drive safe my gentle warriors.
Where to start?
Good weekend all told. Some minor points of frass that I can get into in a different post, HOWEVER for starters:
Friday night was big-kid date night. Dorajar and I schmancied up and hit a schmancy restaurant for a nice dinner before hitting the MeeB theatre for a viewing of "Sid Pimple". A great show and a great throwback to all the old timey radio shows. The script was all right, but I enjoyed the hell out the overall show. BTW- you were wunnerful Redwright.
Sats a.m. was a callback for Ozmadouches. Ten. A. M. That’s early. Waaaaay early. I’m fairly certain I offended the hell outta people I don’t even know by throwing out a bullshit story on how I saw a production of "Amadeus" at a Montessori school, and that 3rd grade Hmong kid playing Salieri gave a POWERhouse performance. The Indian girl playing Mozart was okay…Nothing compelling…but an interesting take on the character. Intermission was early because Emperor Joseph had an excitable bladder and needed his pampies changed.
No. I didn’t get it. Moped did though (Congrats, darlin’) and she’ll be playing one of the Vermicelli. I have forewarned her that I will rename every character in the cast, whether it makes sense or not.
After drowning my sorrows in a lackluster bowl of vegan black bean chili, I headed out to BeeP’s to have a mow fest at the old place before heading back to Mi Casa for a little studying (napping). We stayed in (‘cause we po’) and watched "Garden State" while dining on Chinese Niblets. I decided that I was going to fall in love with Natalie Portman in this movie. Just this movie. Everything else I see her in is "meh". If you don’t believe me, watch the movie. Natalie’s character is just…that girl.
Sunday was a lazy bunk morning. We lounged and loafed over a.m. BM’s while I waited for my folks to poop over and help install a ceiling fan. ("How many member’s of the P-fam does it take to install a ceiling fan. Apparently all of them. And we still didn’t get that fucker in. Dammit.) We frassed over an unusually exciting Viking’s game. (Unusual because I don’t think they’ve had an exciting season since 1999-00) Dad yelled. Mom started work on my Spider-Man costume. That’s right. Made her feel good, too.
Rocky…pooped in my back yard and chased squirrels.
After swearing at the hole in my ceiling, the fam and Per-Per accepted an invite over to the slowly emptying WW ranch for niblets. It was such a trip to be able to have my family and my closest friends all in the same room, enjoying food, laughing, BS’ing. Honestly, in memory, I don’t think that I’ve had that happen in years. It was wonderful. I (me, that is) just shut up and tried to soak as much of it in as possible.
All while stuffing my face with ribeye, edamame/broccoli, and the grilled chicky boobs I had marinated. (BTW- This recipe is the bomb shite. If you don’t have Tumeric in your spice rack, get some.) http://barbeque.allrecipes.com/az/GrilldIndinChickn.asp
And that’s about that, Jack Sprat. I’ll frass some more later when and if I get some time, kimbo’s.
Peace out, playa’s…
Friday night was big-kid date night. Dorajar and I schmancied up and hit a schmancy restaurant for a nice dinner before hitting the MeeB theatre for a viewing of "Sid Pimple". A great show and a great throwback to all the old timey radio shows. The script was all right, but I enjoyed the hell out the overall show. BTW- you were wunnerful Redwright.
Sats a.m. was a callback for Ozmadouches. Ten. A. M. That’s early. Waaaaay early. I’m fairly certain I offended the hell outta people I don’t even know by throwing out a bullshit story on how I saw a production of "Amadeus" at a Montessori school, and that 3rd grade Hmong kid playing Salieri gave a POWERhouse performance. The Indian girl playing Mozart was okay…Nothing compelling…but an interesting take on the character. Intermission was early because Emperor Joseph had an excitable bladder and needed his pampies changed.
No. I didn’t get it. Moped did though (Congrats, darlin’) and she’ll be playing one of the Vermicelli. I have forewarned her that I will rename every character in the cast, whether it makes sense or not.
After drowning my sorrows in a lackluster bowl of vegan black bean chili, I headed out to BeeP’s to have a mow fest at the old place before heading back to Mi Casa for a little studying (napping). We stayed in (‘cause we po’) and watched "Garden State" while dining on Chinese Niblets. I decided that I was going to fall in love with Natalie Portman in this movie. Just this movie. Everything else I see her in is "meh". If you don’t believe me, watch the movie. Natalie’s character is just…that girl.
Sunday was a lazy bunk morning. We lounged and loafed over a.m. BM’s while I waited for my folks to poop over and help install a ceiling fan. ("How many member’s of the P-fam does it take to install a ceiling fan. Apparently all of them. And we still didn’t get that fucker in. Dammit.) We frassed over an unusually exciting Viking’s game. (Unusual because I don’t think they’ve had an exciting season since 1999-00) Dad yelled. Mom started work on my Spider-Man costume. That’s right. Made her feel good, too.
Rocky…pooped in my back yard and chased squirrels.
After swearing at the hole in my ceiling, the fam and Per-Per accepted an invite over to the slowly emptying WW ranch for niblets. It was such a trip to be able to have my family and my closest friends all in the same room, enjoying food, laughing, BS’ing. Honestly, in memory, I don’t think that I’ve had that happen in years. It was wonderful. I (me, that is) just shut up and tried to soak as much of it in as possible.
All while stuffing my face with ribeye, edamame/broccoli, and the grilled chicky boobs I had marinated. (BTW- This recipe is the bomb shite. If you don’t have Tumeric in your spice rack, get some.) http://barbeque.allrecipes.com/az/GrilldIndinChickn.asp
And that’s about that, Jack Sprat. I’ll frass some more later when and if I get some time, kimbo’s.
Peace out, playa’s…
Friday, September 15, 2006
Doi, and an update....
Wookiepedia, btw. No shit.
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page
In other news, I have just finished lunch. I superheated my soup, so I'm hoping that any coli hanger's about will have gone the way of the lobster. And if that didn't kill'em, the tabasco and pepper will. Don't fuck with my reduced sodium chicken gumbo.
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page
In other news, I have just finished lunch. I superheated my soup, so I'm hoping that any coli hanger's about will have gone the way of the lobster. And if that didn't kill'em, the tabasco and pepper will. Don't fuck with my reduced sodium chicken gumbo.
Must...be...stopped...
Jabba the Frickin' Hutt is the "article of the day" today on wiki. For my daily reader's, go over and check it before it changes. This has completely fused my wikipedia addiction to my inherent geekdom so that I am now a sad, slobbering amalgamation of useless knowledge, frass, and a secret desire to be a Jedi Knight.
Please. If you love me? Stage an intervention. You'll know me if you see me. The guy wearing a Spider-Man costume reading up on what happened on this day in 1835.
Charles Darwin reached the Galapagos Islands if you really wanted to know and are staying away from Wiki.
Please. If you love me? Stage an intervention. You'll know me if you see me. The guy wearing a Spider-Man costume reading up on what happened on this day in 1835.
Charles Darwin reached the Galapagos Islands if you really wanted to know and are staying away from Wiki.
Wonderful...
Popeye's getting f#cked over-
http://www.startribune.com/1244/story/679009.html
This sucks since fresh bagged spinach compliments, oh, 25% of my diet. (Chopped up with some tomatoes and I toss it in my lunch soup, add it to my omelette, make a nice caesar salad. Whatever.) And I have an absolute loathing of the canned stuff since I tried squeezing a can of it as a kid in the vain hope that it'd pop out like a geyser and fall neatly into my mouth like the cartoon character- which it didn't and only lent itself to one frustrated baby P. Then relenting and using the electric can opener and finding out that canned spinach tastes like ass on toast.
And smells bad.
The discovery and subsequent addition of spinach to the Baby P diet is a relatively new one- And yes, it harbors daily stares in the break room when I dump a ziploc baggie full of spinach, tomato, and garlic into whatever Progresso chose to surprise me with on any given day. (Lentil? Chicken Gumbo? Manhattan Clam Chowder?)
So yeah. SHOULD be fine if it's cooked thoroughly. Should. In the mean time what? Frozen? Bag it from the grocer's fresh veggies. Pre-Bagged Pre-warshed spinach is so damn convenient though.
Crap.
http://www.startribune.com/1244/story/679009.html
This sucks since fresh bagged spinach compliments, oh, 25% of my diet. (Chopped up with some tomatoes and I toss it in my lunch soup, add it to my omelette, make a nice caesar salad. Whatever.) And I have an absolute loathing of the canned stuff since I tried squeezing a can of it as a kid in the vain hope that it'd pop out like a geyser and fall neatly into my mouth like the cartoon character- which it didn't and only lent itself to one frustrated baby P. Then relenting and using the electric can opener and finding out that canned spinach tastes like ass on toast.
And smells bad.
The discovery and subsequent addition of spinach to the Baby P diet is a relatively new one- And yes, it harbors daily stares in the break room when I dump a ziploc baggie full of spinach, tomato, and garlic into whatever Progresso chose to surprise me with on any given day. (Lentil? Chicken Gumbo? Manhattan Clam Chowder?)
So yeah. SHOULD be fine if it's cooked thoroughly. Should. In the mean time what? Frozen? Bag it from the grocer's fresh veggies. Pre-Bagged Pre-warshed spinach is so damn convenient though.
Crap.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Funny stuff 'bout my neighboring hometown
Big bro RSvP went to HS here...the times are always a-changing. Funny. For the last 5 years or so I've had a hankering to thrown on my old letter jacket and check out a PCHS homecoming game (Which invariably is at the Oh-Es-Es-Eee-Oh stadium.) I remember 3-4 years of either attending, playing, or invariably losing (Not the best Junior and Senior year records in my alums Foo'ball history.) at that venue.
Still. 15 years ago, the track that led Brooklyn Blvd through granite mines and wasteland to the "new development" of Maple Swamp-which, at the time, was a 8 plex cinema, K Mart, and Cousineau's...is now the development of Arbor Lakes. Expanding, again, in spite of reports that it is one of the largest epicenter's of chain restaurants and retail venues...rivaling any of the smaller exclusive 'Dales. (* fact subject to interp. Please correct mich if I'm wrongess)
As recently as last year my folks had a spot in an old antique store on the "strip" in Ass-E-Hole. Which got bought out to expand the Yamaha dealer next to it.
Daddy-o told us stories of patrolling their when he first started and it was little more than what the article says= rows of cornfields and a main street. He'd watch as bouncers drag out rowdy townies from the bars to toss D and D patrons on the street, sometimes watching as they'd break said patrons various body parts in the process. Street justice, they called it.
Change.
startribune.com/103/story/669905.html
Still. 15 years ago, the track that led Brooklyn Blvd through granite mines and wasteland to the "new development" of Maple Swamp-which, at the time, was a 8 plex cinema, K Mart, and Cousineau's...is now the development of Arbor Lakes. Expanding, again, in spite of reports that it is one of the largest epicenter's of chain restaurants and retail venues...rivaling any of the smaller exclusive 'Dales. (* fact subject to interp. Please correct mich if I'm wrongess)
As recently as last year my folks had a spot in an old antique store on the "strip" in Ass-E-Hole. Which got bought out to expand the Yamaha dealer next to it.
Daddy-o told us stories of patrolling their when he first started and it was little more than what the article says= rows of cornfields and a main street. He'd watch as bouncers drag out rowdy townies from the bars to toss D and D patrons on the street, sometimes watching as they'd break said patrons various body parts in the process. Street justice, they called it.
Change.
startribune.com/103/story/669905.html
Monday, September 11, 2006
Please stop...
My wiki addiction clearly need to be reigned in. It's taken over my life in the pursuit of information and knowledge that is reaching Faustian proportion's. (It doesn't help that an abstract random like myself is hypnotized by the idea of links leading me to more and more and more information.)
What cracked me UP however was how I know shit like this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saccharomyces_cerevisiae
Back in ALP Biology in hiiiigh school, we were tasked with studying those bastards. Transferring the specimen from their petri dish using graduated pipettes to a slide and writing our reports on our findings.
It really was as exciting as all that. And random and strange that it was on wiki.
Anyway...Damn you wikipedia. Damn your knowledge which in spite of not probably being always 100% entirely accurate, you're still bloody fascinating.
What cracked me UP however was how I know shit like this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saccharomyces_cerevisiae
Back in ALP Biology in hiiiigh school, we were tasked with studying those bastards. Transferring the specimen from their petri dish using graduated pipettes to a slide and writing our reports on our findings.
It really was as exciting as all that. And random and strange that it was on wiki.
Anyway...Damn you wikipedia. Damn your knowledge which in spite of not probably being always 100% entirely accurate, you're still bloody fascinating.
It is quite possible...
To eat too many eggs. IJS.
But c'MON! One stupid box of egg abuser's ='s 8 eggs, OR 240 calories. Not much, yeah? So that, coupled w/a handfull of chopped vegetables, and then a half-order of home fries...caps out at what, 350 calories. This is NOTHING, I tell you.
Ugh. I sat there with a full tum-tum, tired- AGAIN, praying for my first constitutional to get my motor revving.
Gonna have to cut that number of eggs in haaaalf, I'm thinking. That was a shit-ton of eggs.
Maybe revert to toast and jam.
My Dad's so cute. He brings over a big old bowl of creamy pasta salad to share for lunch. It contains Mayo. Chicken chunks. Elbow Mac. Peas. I didn't eat it as a kid, and it's isn't my first choice to eat as a big kid. He know this. He just likes to see if I'll make a face so he can yell at me and accuse me of either "not eating", being "Hollywood Thin", or anorexia. Truth was, I was chock-a-block full from those gut-busting eggs, AND I had made two delicious Chicky Boobs which were gonna be dinner fare later. This doesn't matter. My dad will eat a PBJ right before dinner. Did I mention he had some green jello for us to share too?
My salvation came in the offer "Did you want to see if your roommate wants some?"
YES!
I carefully piled their plates w/creamy pasta goodness, and frugally place a couple of forkfulls on mine.
Sneaky-pants, I am.
We watched a little Packer Slaughter while 'Bean and Dad frassed as only 'Beans and Dad's could-Their dialogue shouted between two rooms.
"So, Mr. P. Do you follow current events? Did you see that 6.0 Earthquake in the Gulf of Mexico?"
"Yeah, right about where they found that big cache of oil, right?"
"Exactly. So. ...do you subscribe to plate tectonics?"
I can't write this shit. My dad shot me a "is this a real question?" as I shouted back "Is that like, a subscription to Playboy?"
Ohhhh, we laugheded.
But c'MON! One stupid box of egg abuser's ='s 8 eggs, OR 240 calories. Not much, yeah? So that, coupled w/a handfull of chopped vegetables, and then a half-order of home fries...caps out at what, 350 calories. This is NOTHING, I tell you.
Ugh. I sat there with a full tum-tum, tired- AGAIN, praying for my first constitutional to get my motor revving.
Gonna have to cut that number of eggs in haaaalf, I'm thinking. That was a shit-ton of eggs.
Maybe revert to toast and jam.
My Dad's so cute. He brings over a big old bowl of creamy pasta salad to share for lunch. It contains Mayo. Chicken chunks. Elbow Mac. Peas. I didn't eat it as a kid, and it's isn't my first choice to eat as a big kid. He know this. He just likes to see if I'll make a face so he can yell at me and accuse me of either "not eating", being "Hollywood Thin", or anorexia. Truth was, I was chock-a-block full from those gut-busting eggs, AND I had made two delicious Chicky Boobs which were gonna be dinner fare later. This doesn't matter. My dad will eat a PBJ right before dinner. Did I mention he had some green jello for us to share too?
My salvation came in the offer "Did you want to see if your roommate wants some?"
YES!
I carefully piled their plates w/creamy pasta goodness, and frugally place a couple of forkfulls on mine.
Sneaky-pants, I am.
We watched a little Packer Slaughter while 'Bean and Dad frassed as only 'Beans and Dad's could-Their dialogue shouted between two rooms.
"So, Mr. P. Do you follow current events? Did you see that 6.0 Earthquake in the Gulf of Mexico?"
"Yeah, right about where they found that big cache of oil, right?"
"Exactly. So. ...do you subscribe to plate tectonics?"
I can't write this shit. My dad shot me a "is this a real question?" as I shouted back "Is that like, a subscription to Playboy?"
Ohhhh, we laugheded.
Hmmmmmm....
Weekend just took the wind out of my sails, lemme tell ya. I'm getting old. Sue.
Frids was chill. I watched "Hero" for the 1st time, and I gotta say it was a beautiful crafted movie. Not so beautiful was the fact that I have the original criterion DVD from China (purchased from my friend YND last year b4 he spit the bit to LA) and that fucker is only in Chinese. Like- instructions, chapter lists, everything...written in Chinese. Took me nigh on 30 minutes to figure out where to find the English subtitles. Fug.
Sats I got to help Moma move into her new pad while her dad gave us moving instructions that improved our productivity 23%. It's a cute place, fo sho. Nice little upper level duplex, sun room, office, etc...Girl doesn't have much in the way of stuff, per se which compliments her gypsy/hippy personality. She smart, that girl, as is evidenced by the number of books she owns and loves. Hardcover books. Heavy boxes. Stairs. Sore Baby P.
Upon completion I was too tired to even move. I tried plowing through the script for "Amadeus" and got as far as Salieri's initial attempt at seducing Constanze when BONK gone. Sleepy buddy.
Dorajar trundled over, wiped out, and after some din-din and a bath we got our energy levels up to about 68-73%. Good enough to jump to lightspeed. Which we did.
We hit the Elsinheimer's for CeeB's b'day celebrations and I gotta tell ya...There weren't nobody singin' nuthin'. Seriously, I remember last year there was a wait of waits to even get a slip in. Instead, the MC's hunted me down to help them sing "California Dreamin'". (Ummmm,okay?) Duddy and Red showed later, as did D'Gang and we frassed and BS'ed before hitting a wall...And so there we were. Back to Zombie status.
Did you know when you're at some bars and you order a diet coke and everyone else is drinking, they don't charge you? "Do you know how I know you're gay, Baby P?"
Sunday mi Padre' came over to assist with Haus Frass. We finally (finally) installed the light fixture over the sink (Which, for some odd reason or another...looks kinda like a boob.) So that lil' PJ is off the list, leaving the following to round out the summer/early fall:
-Ceiling Fans (3) In my room, the 'Beans room, and the porch
-Fini' the Pergo on the Porch-o
-re-sand and stain the stairwell
-get the rest of that mulchy mulch down
Yeah. Nada problem.
Busy week this week. Projects, Auditions, Searching for meaningless part time employment, studying, karatying, and frassin'.
Monday Night Foo-Ball is heute nacht. I'm thinking of pooping over to Kaiser's new pad to see a little MNF action. Skol, Douchebags!
Frids was chill. I watched "Hero" for the 1st time, and I gotta say it was a beautiful crafted movie. Not so beautiful was the fact that I have the original criterion DVD from China (purchased from my friend YND last year b4 he spit the bit to LA) and that fucker is only in Chinese. Like- instructions, chapter lists, everything...written in Chinese. Took me nigh on 30 minutes to figure out where to find the English subtitles. Fug.
Sats I got to help Moma move into her new pad while her dad gave us moving instructions that improved our productivity 23%. It's a cute place, fo sho. Nice little upper level duplex, sun room, office, etc...Girl doesn't have much in the way of stuff, per se which compliments her gypsy/hippy personality. She smart, that girl, as is evidenced by the number of books she owns and loves. Hardcover books. Heavy boxes. Stairs. Sore Baby P.
Upon completion I was too tired to even move. I tried plowing through the script for "Amadeus" and got as far as Salieri's initial attempt at seducing Constanze when BONK gone. Sleepy buddy.
Dorajar trundled over, wiped out, and after some din-din and a bath we got our energy levels up to about 68-73%. Good enough to jump to lightspeed. Which we did.
We hit the Elsinheimer's for CeeB's b'day celebrations and I gotta tell ya...There weren't nobody singin' nuthin'. Seriously, I remember last year there was a wait of waits to even get a slip in. Instead, the MC's hunted me down to help them sing "California Dreamin'". (Ummmm,okay?) Duddy and Red showed later, as did D'Gang and we frassed and BS'ed before hitting a wall...And so there we were. Back to Zombie status.
Did you know when you're at some bars and you order a diet coke and everyone else is drinking, they don't charge you? "Do you know how I know you're gay, Baby P?"
Sunday mi Padre' came over to assist with Haus Frass. We finally (finally) installed the light fixture over the sink (Which, for some odd reason or another...looks kinda like a boob.) So that lil' PJ is off the list, leaving the following to round out the summer/early fall:
-Ceiling Fans (3) In my room, the 'Beans room, and the porch
-Fini' the Pergo on the Porch-o
-re-sand and stain the stairwell
-get the rest of that mulchy mulch down
Yeah. Nada problem.
Busy week this week. Projects, Auditions, Searching for meaningless part time employment, studying, karatying, and frassin'.
Monday Night Foo-Ball is heute nacht. I'm thinking of pooping over to Kaiser's new pad to see a little MNF action. Skol, Douchebags!
Friday, September 08, 2006
I don't know anybody
So Linzie asked Dorajar and I to Broder's for din din the other night before he heads out to Seattle for a 10 day spinning gig (btw? The food? Not bad and pretty inexpensive) I've determined that I know no one. That's right. I'm not as famous as I've made myself out to be in my own mind. Here's how it went down.
Our fetching and expeditious server Joe and Dorajar recognized each other from when they auditioned together for "Ghosts" (Priceless dialogue= Joe "Hey, whatever happened with that?"/ Dorajar -A smidge uncomfortably: "Um...I got it?") and Linzie recognized a former student and his girlfriend (Typical banter from he= Me: "She's cute"/Him "Dude... she's a bitch.")
And so it goes. Like at the State Fair where I used to run into peeps I knew like a fiend- This year? Not a soul. Not even an uncomfortable "Ex" siting. (Ry-Gonn and Muck Muck ran into some trivia peeps they knew, and Dorajar was even recognized by a woman who was working at the Eco-Building)
I mean, there was a time when I couldn't go on a soul-searching expedition up the side of a Tibetan mountainside without running into SOME Sherpa I was buddies with. Nowadays, their oxen don't even recognize me.
Is this what happens to the homeboy homebody?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not frassin'. It's been years since I've been able to go out in public without the throngs throwing themselves at me...strange women offering me their first born or men asking to bottle my sweat.
I'm guessing the half a bulb of roasted garlic I ate might've had something to do with keeping people at bay. IJS
Our fetching and expeditious server Joe and Dorajar recognized each other from when they auditioned together for "Ghosts" (Priceless dialogue= Joe "Hey, whatever happened with that?"/ Dorajar -A smidge uncomfortably: "Um...I got it?") and Linzie recognized a former student and his girlfriend (Typical banter from he= Me: "She's cute"/Him "Dude... she's a bitch.")
And so it goes. Like at the State Fair where I used to run into peeps I knew like a fiend- This year? Not a soul. Not even an uncomfortable "Ex" siting. (Ry-Gonn and Muck Muck ran into some trivia peeps they knew, and Dorajar was even recognized by a woman who was working at the Eco-Building)
I mean, there was a time when I couldn't go on a soul-searching expedition up the side of a Tibetan mountainside without running into SOME Sherpa I was buddies with. Nowadays, their oxen don't even recognize me.
Is this what happens to the homeboy homebody?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not frassin'. It's been years since I've been able to go out in public without the throngs throwing themselves at me...strange women offering me their first born or men asking to bottle my sweat.
I'm guessing the half a bulb of roasted garlic I ate might've had something to do with keeping people at bay. IJS
Oh...that's why.
Karate has been great lately, you know? Really good. Classes are aces, and I've been paying particular attention to the level of soreness afterwards. (Hammy, Groin, and Hip flexor frass can 86 classes for a few weeks. Because I like to LISTEN to when my body is hurting...cough cough.) So I trade in kicking as high as I can, or hitting the hardest and fastest during drills and substitute what I should be substituting- accurately performing technique and proper memorization of body placement. (Easy enough, you see, to do a nice sudo...but are your feet in the proper place? Shit, man, some black belts aren't folding deep when they do their folds. Gotta get that shit right. It's about respecting the art, yo'.)
Up until yesterday, everythings been aces and applesauce. Coz we did "combinations".
In my zealous haste, I requested the instructor run us through curriculum ad nauseum for the next graduation. I explained that I understand that we'd be doing drills, but since their were a couple of underbelts learning the jist, it'd behoove us all to do white through black curriculum in repetition...you know? Repetition never hurts.
Kata, fine. Self-Defenses, fine. Bo form? Meh, but getting better. One steps, could stand for some review, but getting better (And I can only do my own belt level so much before I get mega bored.)
But those frassin' combo's.
My hammies and the backs of my knee's are screamin' today. Like, Kung Fu Hamlet hurtin'.
Crap.
Up until yesterday, everythings been aces and applesauce. Coz we did "combinations".
In my zealous haste, I requested the instructor run us through curriculum ad nauseum for the next graduation. I explained that I understand that we'd be doing drills, but since their were a couple of underbelts learning the jist, it'd behoove us all to do white through black curriculum in repetition...you know? Repetition never hurts.
Kata, fine. Self-Defenses, fine. Bo form? Meh, but getting better. One steps, could stand for some review, but getting better (And I can only do my own belt level so much before I get mega bored.)
But those frassin' combo's.
My hammies and the backs of my knee's are screamin' today. Like, Kung Fu Hamlet hurtin'.
Crap.
By the way?
I suck at pool.
Suckiest sucker in sucksville.
For serious, you don't have to be named after a state or called "Fast" anything. I'll lose. Here's my $20.
It was nice to see Brizian again before he spits the bit to the West Coast, but...damn. I imagine the cheap 2 for 1's that were half filled with lighter fluid didn't help my game much.
Darts? Okay. Playing pool in Taylor's Falls? Brilliant.
Fuck a bunch of pool, man.
Suckiest sucker in sucksville.
For serious, you don't have to be named after a state or called "Fast" anything. I'll lose. Here's my $20.
It was nice to see Brizian again before he spits the bit to the West Coast, but...damn. I imagine the cheap 2 for 1's that were half filled with lighter fluid didn't help my game much.
Darts? Okay. Playing pool in Taylor's Falls? Brilliant.
Fuck a bunch of pool, man.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Re-connections
I recently decided on a whim to re-connect with a friend I haven’t seen in over 3 years. We were best buddies all through high school and beginning college until we just sort of…fell out of contact. At this point, the reason for why we hadn’t spoken seemed ridiculous at best, so I figured "what the hell" and called him up. We got together, caught ourselves up (Never once looking back at past frass) and shared a mutual hug before departing.
Now the guy won’t stop calling. (LOL!) But I have a buddy again.
One of the bennies to having this guy back in my life is his job- FT Jazz musician.
I was sitting around the patio last night with he, and another absent friend who drove 2.5 hours all the way from ‘Sconnie for a little reunion of sorts. (He also hadn’t seen the man in a few years). Linzie had to split early to make it to a gig at the Kitty Cat club. "You should c’mon down. No cover. Playing a shitload of Mingus…some free stuff. It’s cool man. Lots of parking." And even though it was kind of late on a school night, we went. And we sat there, letting the music wash over us. Nothing too loud, or ecclectic. Just smooth s#it…and two buddies sitting on an overstuffed couch at a hipster club, listening to our friend play. Waves. Music in waves.
And it was all right.
Now the guy won’t stop calling. (LOL!) But I have a buddy again.
One of the bennies to having this guy back in my life is his job- FT Jazz musician.
I was sitting around the patio last night with he, and another absent friend who drove 2.5 hours all the way from ‘Sconnie for a little reunion of sorts. (He also hadn’t seen the man in a few years). Linzie had to split early to make it to a gig at the Kitty Cat club. "You should c’mon down. No cover. Playing a shitload of Mingus…some free stuff. It’s cool man. Lots of parking." And even though it was kind of late on a school night, we went. And we sat there, letting the music wash over us. Nothing too loud, or ecclectic. Just smooth s#it…and two buddies sitting on an overstuffed couch at a hipster club, listening to our friend play. Waves. Music in waves.
And it was all right.
Our State Fair!
Is a great State Fair!
This is going to be long-ish...but please understand- It's a big..fucking...fair.
And f#ckin’ crooooowwwded. Oof.
Dorajar and I made plans to meet Ry-Gonn, his WeeF, and Muck-Muck at the Fair on Labor Day. Now, I need to disclaimer a few things before I tell you about the day, and please note…I cannot be brief:
Muck Muck, loves, the fair. And when I say "loves"? I mean like…if the Fair were "Fatal Attraction" he’d totally be Glenn Close. Well, that’s a little severe. Let’s just say wedding bells might be in their future. IJS. This year, the man went to the Fair- 8 times. (In his defense, he justified it by saying it was "mostly for the concerts". Right. This motherf#cker could eat. A lot.) THEY decided on having a "Fair Day"- Start as close to 7am as possible, and stay until 9-10pm (Right? Riiiight?), while Dora and I took a more prudent approach and did our humblest to sleep off our cheap beer induced hangovers from the night before, and wait for a blissful veggie chili induced constitutional. Overshare.
Now, we had planned on engaging in this Callboardian induced scavenger hunt where you take pictures of certain Fair Anachronisms for point and a "no-prize" award. (Ex: Picture of a Mullet, Butt crack, black socks and white shoes, kids on a leash, a hairy back, etc.) We would have RAKED’em in had we the foresight to remember a camera (and ki-boshing the notion of buying a disposable one as an unnecessary expense) from the moment we parked…we were greeted by a Dick-Enlarging Hummer, and one of the exiting parties had a full-blown case of muffin-top. (Before donning her Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie)
Before meeting up with the dynamic trio, we had a chance to do a bit of traipsing ourselves and after our breakfast of Pronto-Pup we hit some of the new stuff like:
-The Eco-Building (Props to the dumb-ass who told his kids they were going into the "Echo-Building". I wept inside.
-Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom interactive exhibit. (Where we got a free a goofy photo with an animatronic Bald Eagle. When I can get my fingies on a scanner, I’ll upload it. We’re nincompoops.)
-The most fascinating thing on the planet: The Butterfly House. This was a recommendation from Necomn the night before and Dora thought it sounded like a hot ticket. I wasn’t too jazzed about the whole schmear, thinking it would be tailored to the wee porkchops. Wrong, Baby P. It was a trip. A little disconcerting even. (Ever been divebombed by a monarch? Have you?) There was the little girl who was COVERED head to toe in butterflies (20 of’em at least. One on her mouth. She was walking sooooo carefully.) The wall full of resin-covered bugs (Not just moths or butterflies, oh no. They had scorpions, painted beetles, horned beetles, and these other multi-legged YUGE beasties that put the creepie crawlies from "The Mummy" or "Temple of Doom" to a pitiful shame. I kept up on it after we left "There is shit like THAT in the world. A bug that, by it’s mere appearance, would make me shit my pants" I avoided walking behind the b’fly covered chitlins and providing commentary- (whispering "Did you know that that particular breed of butterfly has the most toxic venom on the planet? You’re fine if you don’t make any sudden mov…oh…her fangs are out. Be cool, Fonzie") And it finally ended with the butterfly "Frisk Down" to make sure we didn’t have any random sucka’s hanging on. ("Muh wah ha ha…they didn’t check my PURSE!")
We finally hooked up with the muckster, et.al. after a prolonged game of cell tag, by then we were working on sharing our first brew. We did all the things we wanted to over the course of 6 hours (My Lord, were my dogs barking. My glutes and my arches were on fire by the time we loped back toward my car.) The mighty Midway had the return of the Sideshow which we passed on. (And is my only real regret that I missed this year.) The sword swallower (giggle) was pitching the show to all passers by and I over heard a lil’ kid say "How does he dooooo that?" to which I responded "Well, they fed him a scabbard when he was very young, and it lodged in his esophagus but still magically allows him to breath…" I figured I lost him after "scabbard".
We had our own scavenger hunt of sorts, where we basically just quietly pointed and rolled our eyes at some folk. Woman with a "Fem" Mullet, Number of ladies carrying a "Papoose", poor kid with a Helmet/Earmuffs/on a leash, Dudes who were "douchebags" (Namely the guy in Heritage Square wearing the muscle shirt that had two arrows on the bottom pointing to his sides and exclaimed "I don’t need to register THESE GUNS". Riiiight. Second place goes to the douchebag in the black ribbed a-shirt/khaki shorts/and wild messy hair who felt the need to strut every time he heard the Bee Gee’s/Soul Music…wait…oh…sorry. Two thumbs point back at this noble but fashion challenged blogger.)
Important tally: The food we shared-
Deep Fried Turkey Sammich. (The bomb. Don’t knock, y’all)
Freeeeench Fries
Mini-donuts
A bite of Ry-Gonns Steak Sammy
A nibble of spicy cajun turkey bites
2 beers
Sips of a banana milkshake
Numerous Waters/Diet Cokes
I avoid cheese curds these days like the plague. One, maybe two can be put down. Any more, I’m gonna vom.
I didn’t wind making any purchases. Outside of the Kung Fu gi’s, I didn’t find a replacement for my cowboy hat that I misplaced after the 4th of July.
We drove home…barely conscious. And passed out for a 2 hour grease interuppted nap. My plumbing’ll be clogged for days. Hell, I felt it today at karate.
But I love it so.
364 days until the next time.
This is going to be long-ish...but please understand- It's a big..fucking...fair.
And f#ckin’ crooooowwwded. Oof.
Dorajar and I made plans to meet Ry-Gonn, his WeeF, and Muck-Muck at the Fair on Labor Day. Now, I need to disclaimer a few things before I tell you about the day, and please note…I cannot be brief:
Muck Muck, loves, the fair. And when I say "loves"? I mean like…if the Fair were "Fatal Attraction" he’d totally be Glenn Close. Well, that’s a little severe. Let’s just say wedding bells might be in their future. IJS. This year, the man went to the Fair- 8 times. (In his defense, he justified it by saying it was "mostly for the concerts". Right. This motherf#cker could eat. A lot.) THEY decided on having a "Fair Day"- Start as close to 7am as possible, and stay until 9-10pm (Right? Riiiight?), while Dora and I took a more prudent approach and did our humblest to sleep off our cheap beer induced hangovers from the night before, and wait for a blissful veggie chili induced constitutional. Overshare.
Now, we had planned on engaging in this Callboardian induced scavenger hunt where you take pictures of certain Fair Anachronisms for point and a "no-prize" award. (Ex: Picture of a Mullet, Butt crack, black socks and white shoes, kids on a leash, a hairy back, etc.) We would have RAKED’em in had we the foresight to remember a camera (and ki-boshing the notion of buying a disposable one as an unnecessary expense) from the moment we parked…we were greeted by a Dick-Enlarging Hummer, and one of the exiting parties had a full-blown case of muffin-top. (Before donning her Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie)
Before meeting up with the dynamic trio, we had a chance to do a bit of traipsing ourselves and after our breakfast of Pronto-Pup we hit some of the new stuff like:
-The Eco-Building (Props to the dumb-ass who told his kids they were going into the "Echo-Building". I wept inside.
-Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom interactive exhibit. (Where we got a free a goofy photo with an animatronic Bald Eagle. When I can get my fingies on a scanner, I’ll upload it. We’re nincompoops.)
-The most fascinating thing on the planet: The Butterfly House. This was a recommendation from Necomn the night before and Dora thought it sounded like a hot ticket. I wasn’t too jazzed about the whole schmear, thinking it would be tailored to the wee porkchops. Wrong, Baby P. It was a trip. A little disconcerting even. (Ever been divebombed by a monarch? Have you?) There was the little girl who was COVERED head to toe in butterflies (20 of’em at least. One on her mouth. She was walking sooooo carefully.) The wall full of resin-covered bugs (Not just moths or butterflies, oh no. They had scorpions, painted beetles, horned beetles, and these other multi-legged YUGE beasties that put the creepie crawlies from "The Mummy" or "Temple of Doom" to a pitiful shame. I kept up on it after we left "There is shit like THAT in the world. A bug that, by it’s mere appearance, would make me shit my pants" I avoided walking behind the b’fly covered chitlins and providing commentary- (whispering "Did you know that that particular breed of butterfly has the most toxic venom on the planet? You’re fine if you don’t make any sudden mov…oh…her fangs are out. Be cool, Fonzie") And it finally ended with the butterfly "Frisk Down" to make sure we didn’t have any random sucka’s hanging on. ("Muh wah ha ha…they didn’t check my PURSE!")
We finally hooked up with the muckster, et.al. after a prolonged game of cell tag, by then we were working on sharing our first brew. We did all the things we wanted to over the course of 6 hours (My Lord, were my dogs barking. My glutes and my arches were on fire by the time we loped back toward my car.) The mighty Midway had the return of the Sideshow which we passed on. (And is my only real regret that I missed this year.) The sword swallower (giggle) was pitching the show to all passers by and I over heard a lil’ kid say "How does he dooooo that?" to which I responded "Well, they fed him a scabbard when he was very young, and it lodged in his esophagus but still magically allows him to breath…" I figured I lost him after "scabbard".
We had our own scavenger hunt of sorts, where we basically just quietly pointed and rolled our eyes at some folk. Woman with a "Fem" Mullet, Number of ladies carrying a "Papoose", poor kid with a Helmet/Earmuffs/on a leash, Dudes who were "douchebags" (Namely the guy in Heritage Square wearing the muscle shirt that had two arrows on the bottom pointing to his sides and exclaimed "I don’t need to register THESE GUNS". Riiiight. Second place goes to the douchebag in the black ribbed a-shirt/khaki shorts/and wild messy hair who felt the need to strut every time he heard the Bee Gee’s/Soul Music…wait…oh…sorry. Two thumbs point back at this noble but fashion challenged blogger.)
Important tally: The food we shared-
Deep Fried Turkey Sammich. (The bomb. Don’t knock, y’all)
Freeeeench Fries
Mini-donuts
A bite of Ry-Gonns Steak Sammy
A nibble of spicy cajun turkey bites
2 beers
Sips of a banana milkshake
Numerous Waters/Diet Cokes
I avoid cheese curds these days like the plague. One, maybe two can be put down. Any more, I’m gonna vom.
I didn’t wind making any purchases. Outside of the Kung Fu gi’s, I didn’t find a replacement for my cowboy hat that I misplaced after the 4th of July.
We drove home…barely conscious. And passed out for a 2 hour grease interuppted nap. My plumbing’ll be clogged for days. Hell, I felt it today at karate.
But I love it so.
364 days until the next time.
Too Much Food ='s A pardee...
So after a day of lawn and outdoor frass this holiday weekend, I acquiesed to peppa’s request to have her visiting buddy and buddies BF over for dinner. While I was putting the vittles together, she asked if she could give a jingle to X and see if he’d be game to stop over…then if I’d wanna call Linzie and see if HE’d be game to come over, and to double check with Melinite and Adam to see if THEY were still coming over.
Now, I normally don’t blanche at the chance to have a soiree’, I just like to have a day’s advance notice before it gets too crazy, and my roommate isn’t fond of big groups. Let’s face it…I’m a planner. It’s what I do. As I was cooking up the vittles for the night, (I whipped a big bag of Bowtie Pasta I’d been given by my mom into a summer pasta vegetable dish, made some Veggie chili, Some leftover Salmon, a bag of marinated chicky boobs) I looked at the full crock, and full oven, and full pasta bowl, and realized that in my zealous haste to put together a full and diverse spread I put out way-too-much-food.
Way too much.
"Well honey, why don’t I just call Brandino and Carson…and Redwright, Oh-I’ll see if Tallen and Huge aren’t busy? Did you wanna call MD?" You get the jist? Since I made so much food, I should invite accordingly.
And we did. And on a perfectly dreadful rainy night, I had a small group of some really wonderful folks poop on over to warm my dreary little shack, eat nibbles, drink cheeeeeapo beer, and listen to me dominate conversations like the rude little random primate I am.
Leftover veggie chili keeps very well, did you know that?
Now, I normally don’t blanche at the chance to have a soiree’, I just like to have a day’s advance notice before it gets too crazy, and my roommate isn’t fond of big groups. Let’s face it…I’m a planner. It’s what I do. As I was cooking up the vittles for the night, (I whipped a big bag of Bowtie Pasta I’d been given by my mom into a summer pasta vegetable dish, made some Veggie chili, Some leftover Salmon, a bag of marinated chicky boobs) I looked at the full crock, and full oven, and full pasta bowl, and realized that in my zealous haste to put together a full and diverse spread I put out way-too-much-food.
Way too much.
"Well honey, why don’t I just call Brandino and Carson…and Redwright, Oh-I’ll see if Tallen and Huge aren’t busy? Did you wanna call MD?" You get the jist? Since I made so much food, I should invite accordingly.
And we did. And on a perfectly dreadful rainy night, I had a small group of some really wonderful folks poop on over to warm my dreary little shack, eat nibbles, drink cheeeeeapo beer, and listen to me dominate conversations like the rude little random primate I am.
Leftover veggie chili keeps very well, did you know that?
Whimsey's on Warm Shingles, Felines, and T-Willy.
Thanks to the the loverly ‘Grooder, Moped and I got us some comps and were finally able to catch the "Cat" remount over at the Theatre Garage. We nib nibbed some cheap sushi and veeno down at Chino (Where we both ogled the very fetching and curvaceous bartender) before heading down in time for curtain. It was okay. Better than that, I’d wager. Definitely worth a look. And what we both agreed on, was that it was hyped up so much that we both had extremely high expectations going in. The performances were powerful, I just think that there were a few (And they were, in a word, very few) pacing beats that took me out of the moment.
Still, if you missed it, too bad. That was some pretty good stuff from my Super Secret Girlfriend.
Still, if you missed it, too bad. That was some pretty good stuff from my Super Secret Girlfriend.
Not my favorite at the new Sheeshy Theatre
So I saw a new show at a small venue at a new theatre that’s been getting a lot of hoy palloy lately. My roommie hooked me up with tix, and I figured it’d be a hot ticket for a Wednesday night.
It weren’t.
In a word, I was bored. I didn’t get it. And while I think community outreach and casting non-professionals is important to them in building better relationships, it wound up being a little distracting.
Intermission, I split. I begged forgiveness from the roommate who said if he didn’t work there, he’d be on my heels. Fortunately I had a buddy who was in the neighborhood that called me to see what I was doing so I didn’t need to walk home in dress shoes.
We ended up going back to my house and watching "Predator". The next day I had shin splints from hell just b/c I walked a half a mile in those uncomfortable bastards. I think that’s God getting me for walking out of the show.
It weren’t.
In a word, I was bored. I didn’t get it. And while I think community outreach and casting non-professionals is important to them in building better relationships, it wound up being a little distracting.
Intermission, I split. I begged forgiveness from the roommate who said if he didn’t work there, he’d be on my heels. Fortunately I had a buddy who was in the neighborhood that called me to see what I was doing so I didn’t need to walk home in dress shoes.
We ended up going back to my house and watching "Predator". The next day I had shin splints from hell just b/c I walked a half a mile in those uncomfortable bastards. I think that’s God getting me for walking out of the show.
Busy again...
Well sue me. I've been busy. Actually that’s not entirely true. I’ve been leading a far more boring assed life lately due to budget constraints. (Saving up, Paying Bills, etc.) So my going out and observation time is eaten up with things I don’t think would be really too insteresting to the masses? (ex: Today, I went to mom and dad’s old place and mowed their lawn. I enjoyed a delightful curry veggie on Friday night. I placed over 300 ft of weed barrier around the fence line. Over lunch, I had a invigorating class at the dojo where our instructor regaled us with yet another rollicking pyromaniacal tale of gun safety. He’s a gun nut, you see. Ironic, to be sure, for an instructor of an empty handed form of combat to be so in love with firearms. Digress) So yeah. I’m a boring bunk when I’m in saving mode and trying desperately to get outdoor projects completed before the big freeze.
However.
How can I not frass about the State Fair? The State, mother f#ckin’ FAIR!!! Or walking out of a show that I felt was so bad, I’m was ultimately grateful that I didn’t pay for tix? Or seeing "Cat"? Or re-connecting with an old friend.
Well, I can’t let that go.
So buckle your belts, botches. I'm gonna be posty.
However.
How can I not frass about the State Fair? The State, mother f#ckin’ FAIR!!! Or walking out of a show that I felt was so bad, I’m was ultimately grateful that I didn’t pay for tix? Or seeing "Cat"? Or re-connecting with an old friend.
Well, I can’t let that go.
So buckle your belts, botches. I'm gonna be posty.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
I'm a little boring, yeah....It's what I gots, yo...
1. How old do you wish you were?
10…when my brain rank was number 1
2. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
Phone call waking me up by my roommate who I thought was waking me up not to forget a temp agency interview. It wasn’t. "Oh my GOD! Turn on the TV!"
3. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse
4. Do you consider yourself kind?
Kind of off center, yeah.
5. If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?
Kanji for "No". It beats the kanji for "It seemed like a good idea at the time"
6. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
I’d be a polyglot: Arabic, Japanese, Chinese, Hindi, Farsi, German, Spanish, Italian, and Frenchville.
7. Do you know your neighbors?Fuck yeah. I helped organize National Night Out, doi!
8. What do you consider a vacation?Away…and sometimes home
9. Do you follow your horoscope?
Somedays
10. Would you move for the person you loved?
Not until I’ve built up enough equity.
11. Are you touchy feely?
Yeah. Restraining orders pending.
12. Do you believe that opposites attract?
Sure. And same-ah-sites.
13. Dream job?
Actor
14. Favorite channels?
English
15. Favorite place to go on a weekend?
Out
16. Showers or bath?
Shower.
17. Do you paint your nails?
Just so that they blend in to the wood, yeah.
18. Do you trust people easily?
Easily yes. Fully…not so much
19. What are your phobias?
Deep Deep sea beasties like sharks. Shipwrecks. Driving through golf courses and a wayward ball is gonna break my window. Losing my house. Ugh…crap.
20. Do you want kids?
Not really
21. Do you keep a handwritten journal?
Not since 1996?
22. Where would you rather be right now?
Travelling
23. What makes you feel warm and safe?
A nice mocha at a coffee shop with a good book
24. Heavy or light sleep?
When I do, it’s usually light.
25. Are you paranoid?
I’m self-aware, self-conscious, and hyper-ass empathetic…so it probably reads as P-noid.
26. Are you impatient?
No
27. Who can you relate to?
Everyone. I’m a relater.
28. How do you feel about interracial couples?
Life shouldn’t be a race.
29. Have you been burned by love?
Burned, Drawn, Quartered, Eviscerated. Kicked in the Gonads, Knocked over, fat paddled, branded, taken to the all-you-can-eat buffet and then told to wait in the car on a summer day with nothing other than a sippy cup fulla warm Kool-Aid to get me by…But I’ve been in love, and when you’re there?
It’s fan-fucking-tastic.
30. What's your life motto?
Nosce Te Ipsum: Know Thyself
31. What's your main ringtone on your mobile?
Moses and I have named it "The coolest guy in Minneapolis" Theme Song
32. What were you doing at midnight last night?Passed out, waiting to wake myself up for a 3 hour bout of insomnia.
33. Who was your last text message from?
Mo-peppa
34. Whose bed did you sleep in last night?My own.
35. What color shirt are you wearing?
Dark blue pollo shirt
36. Most recent movie you watched?
Still struggling through "Kingdom of Heaven"/4 episodes of South Park Season 6
37. Name five things you have on you at all times?
Stick of Carmex, Wallet, Cell Phone, Ichi-yen necklace, Keys…Spider Man Costume
38. What color are your bed sheets?
White, with a merlot colored duvet cover over my down comforter…It’s a king. And it’s YUGE!39. How much cash do you have on you right now?
Nicht so viel. Ich habe keine geld.
40. What is your favorite part of the chicken?
GRILLED OR BROILED CHICKY BOOBIES!
41. What is your favorite town/city?
San Fran and NYC for their unique energies. 4 corners for the solace. Drawn to the SW, I am.
42. I can't wait till...I get my black belt. I can fly to Europe again…(More immediately, to get to Ren Fest and the State Fair)
43. Who got you to join Blogger?
Kaiser. I got tired of waiting for his non-existent blogs so I started my own douche-y one.
44. What did you have for dinner last night?
Lord. Chinese (Steamed Chicken with Mixed Veggies) Again…with loving and once absent friends. (ooooo, softy)
45. How tall are you barefoot?
5’10"…In heels, I’m 7’11"
46. Have you ever smoked crack?
I’ve cracked smoke with my bare hands…I’m deadly. (And why are they starting with f#cking crack, anyway? They don’t say "Booze", "High Powered Painkillers", "Pot", "Banana Peels", etc.? They skip straight to crack. Ambitious question, number 46…I’ll give you that.
47. Do you own a gun?
Two! (Kisses each arm) I’m lucky they let me in my office, baby. (EYES! Roll’em if you got’em…)
48. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Coffee, OJ, Water…in no particular order.
49. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
An incredibly vast array of all-new old cheap lines which briefly affords me the momentary air of charm...before the booze or roofies kick in. Then you’re stuck, ladies.
50. Do you have A.D.D?
Well, I guess I’m kind of flibbertygib…HEY! KITTENS!!!!
51. What time did you wake up today?3am, then 6:45am, then 7:15am…
52. Current worry?
Getting out of debt and other private matters.
53. Current hate?
It will all be over soon…I promise you…I know that Biggie. I really do. I trust you implicitly.
54. Favorite place to be?
Eating really good food with my friends around my patio.
55. Where would you like to travel?
Franceville, and then hitting Florence…birthplace of the Renaissance. Oh fuck…I’m excited.
56. Where do you think you'll be in 10 years?
Closer to fine?
57. Last thing you ate?
Leftover Chinese. I still don’t know how I used to be able to eat an entire plate of that shit. I can barely get through half nowadays.
58. Song you sing in the shower?
Showtunes, probably. Or something with "Frassy Pamping" substituted as the lyrics.
59. Last person that made you laugh?
Myself. I’m almost always laughing at my dumb butt self. (Last night, Mo and Linz made me nearly vomit laughing)
60. Worst injury you ever had?
Physical? Not much. I’m nigh on invulnerable in a lucky sort of way. Outside of a variety of cuts, gashes, abrasions, bruises, burns-some pretty bad, Broken nose, bruised rib (RSvP Love Tap) Getting my bell rung pretty hard during sparring, wind knocked out of me, frassy back, bruised coxcis, pulled hammies, frassy hips, soreness to the point of being immobile, scratched cornea, nail through the bottom of my foot, hit by two ten speeds, subsequent high impact with a wooden phone pole, face nearly bit off by a dog. Arm nearly taken off by a wooden dowel wrapped in foam, kicked super hard in the gonads, concussed a few times, hyper-extended my elbow
The worst one though? Heartbreak. I’d take all of those owies combined to be rid of ever having that sense memory, ever again. Ick.
61. Does someone have a crush on you?
Many wish to crush me. (It's pretty doubtful...I'd know. And really, I leave a bad taste in your mouth, much like an accidental spritz of Aussie Sprunch Hairspray in your hair, circa 1989)
62. What is your favorite candy?
Don’t really have one.
63. Favorite erogenous zone?
My brain. Make me laugh, yo.
10…when my brain rank was number 1
2. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
Phone call waking me up by my roommate who I thought was waking me up not to forget a temp agency interview. It wasn’t. "Oh my GOD! Turn on the TV!"
3. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Curse
4. Do you consider yourself kind?
Kind of off center, yeah.
5. If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?
Kanji for "No". It beats the kanji for "It seemed like a good idea at the time"
6. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
I’d be a polyglot: Arabic, Japanese, Chinese, Hindi, Farsi, German, Spanish, Italian, and Frenchville.
7. Do you know your neighbors?Fuck yeah. I helped organize National Night Out, doi!
8. What do you consider a vacation?Away…and sometimes home
9. Do you follow your horoscope?
Somedays
10. Would you move for the person you loved?
Not until I’ve built up enough equity.
11. Are you touchy feely?
Yeah. Restraining orders pending.
12. Do you believe that opposites attract?
Sure. And same-ah-sites.
13. Dream job?
Actor
14. Favorite channels?
English
15. Favorite place to go on a weekend?
Out
16. Showers or bath?
Shower.
17. Do you paint your nails?
Just so that they blend in to the wood, yeah.
18. Do you trust people easily?
Easily yes. Fully…not so much
19. What are your phobias?
Deep Deep sea beasties like sharks. Shipwrecks. Driving through golf courses and a wayward ball is gonna break my window. Losing my house. Ugh…crap.
20. Do you want kids?
Not really
21. Do you keep a handwritten journal?
Not since 1996?
22. Where would you rather be right now?
Travelling
23. What makes you feel warm and safe?
A nice mocha at a coffee shop with a good book
24. Heavy or light sleep?
When I do, it’s usually light.
25. Are you paranoid?
I’m self-aware, self-conscious, and hyper-ass empathetic…so it probably reads as P-noid.
26. Are you impatient?
No
27. Who can you relate to?
Everyone. I’m a relater.
28. How do you feel about interracial couples?
Life shouldn’t be a race.
29. Have you been burned by love?
Burned, Drawn, Quartered, Eviscerated. Kicked in the Gonads, Knocked over, fat paddled, branded, taken to the all-you-can-eat buffet and then told to wait in the car on a summer day with nothing other than a sippy cup fulla warm Kool-Aid to get me by…But I’ve been in love, and when you’re there?
It’s fan-fucking-tastic.
30. What's your life motto?
Nosce Te Ipsum: Know Thyself
31. What's your main ringtone on your mobile?
Moses and I have named it "The coolest guy in Minneapolis" Theme Song
32. What were you doing at midnight last night?Passed out, waiting to wake myself up for a 3 hour bout of insomnia.
33. Who was your last text message from?
Mo-peppa
34. Whose bed did you sleep in last night?My own.
35. What color shirt are you wearing?
Dark blue pollo shirt
36. Most recent movie you watched?
Still struggling through "Kingdom of Heaven"/4 episodes of South Park Season 6
37. Name five things you have on you at all times?
Stick of Carmex, Wallet, Cell Phone, Ichi-yen necklace, Keys…Spider Man Costume
38. What color are your bed sheets?
White, with a merlot colored duvet cover over my down comforter…It’s a king. And it’s YUGE!39. How much cash do you have on you right now?
Nicht so viel. Ich habe keine geld.
40. What is your favorite part of the chicken?
GRILLED OR BROILED CHICKY BOOBIES!
41. What is your favorite town/city?
San Fran and NYC for their unique energies. 4 corners for the solace. Drawn to the SW, I am.
42. I can't wait till...I get my black belt. I can fly to Europe again…(More immediately, to get to Ren Fest and the State Fair)
43. Who got you to join Blogger?
Kaiser. I got tired of waiting for his non-existent blogs so I started my own douche-y one.
44. What did you have for dinner last night?
Lord. Chinese (Steamed Chicken with Mixed Veggies) Again…with loving and once absent friends. (ooooo, softy)
45. How tall are you barefoot?
5’10"…In heels, I’m 7’11"
46. Have you ever smoked crack?
I’ve cracked smoke with my bare hands…I’m deadly. (And why are they starting with f#cking crack, anyway? They don’t say "Booze", "High Powered Painkillers", "Pot", "Banana Peels", etc.? They skip straight to crack. Ambitious question, number 46…I’ll give you that.
47. Do you own a gun?
Two! (Kisses each arm) I’m lucky they let me in my office, baby. (EYES! Roll’em if you got’em…)
48. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Coffee, OJ, Water…in no particular order.
49. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
An incredibly vast array of all-new old cheap lines which briefly affords me the momentary air of charm...before the booze or roofies kick in. Then you’re stuck, ladies.
50. Do you have A.D.D?
Well, I guess I’m kind of flibbertygib…HEY! KITTENS!!!!
51. What time did you wake up today?3am, then 6:45am, then 7:15am…
52. Current worry?
Getting out of debt and other private matters.
53. Current hate?
It will all be over soon…I promise you…I know that Biggie. I really do. I trust you implicitly.
54. Favorite place to be?
Eating really good food with my friends around my patio.
55. Where would you like to travel?
Franceville, and then hitting Florence…birthplace of the Renaissance. Oh fuck…I’m excited.
56. Where do you think you'll be in 10 years?
Closer to fine?
57. Last thing you ate?
Leftover Chinese. I still don’t know how I used to be able to eat an entire plate of that shit. I can barely get through half nowadays.
58. Song you sing in the shower?
Showtunes, probably. Or something with "Frassy Pamping" substituted as the lyrics.
59. Last person that made you laugh?
Myself. I’m almost always laughing at my dumb butt self. (Last night, Mo and Linz made me nearly vomit laughing)
60. Worst injury you ever had?
Physical? Not much. I’m nigh on invulnerable in a lucky sort of way. Outside of a variety of cuts, gashes, abrasions, bruises, burns-some pretty bad, Broken nose, bruised rib (RSvP Love Tap) Getting my bell rung pretty hard during sparring, wind knocked out of me, frassy back, bruised coxcis, pulled hammies, frassy hips, soreness to the point of being immobile, scratched cornea, nail through the bottom of my foot, hit by two ten speeds, subsequent high impact with a wooden phone pole, face nearly bit off by a dog. Arm nearly taken off by a wooden dowel wrapped in foam, kicked super hard in the gonads, concussed a few times, hyper-extended my elbow
The worst one though? Heartbreak. I’d take all of those owies combined to be rid of ever having that sense memory, ever again. Ick.
61. Does someone have a crush on you?
Many wish to crush me. (It's pretty doubtful...I'd know. And really, I leave a bad taste in your mouth, much like an accidental spritz of Aussie Sprunch Hairspray in your hair, circa 1989)
62. What is your favorite candy?
Don’t really have one.
63. Favorite erogenous zone?
My brain. Make me laugh, yo.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Yeah...you go baby. Home Depot is winning.
There. I said it. None, I repeat, NO project got completed this weekend. Why, pray tell? What did Mikey do, you ask, with his solo weekend?
Nada. Nothing. No workouts, No mowing, no mulch laying, no edging installations...zilch.
Well, scratch that bit. A smidge.
Friday= Was supposed to meet a friend for cocktails after her shift ended. I got dressed, headed downstairs to wait for a phone call. When 10pm rolled around, I started reading...then snnnnnzzkkzzk.
I woke up at midnight to see that she'd called to say her shift ended way late and she went home to bed. I'm off the hook, hookers.
Sats= I spent the whoooooooooole day cleaning my house to prepare for the arrival of the 'Beans mom. Top- to- bottom. For future reference, y'all? It takes approximately 2.5 hours to dust/clean the hardwood surfaces which includes moving furniture. Another 2 to clean the windows. I gave some thought to going out and catching a film, but opted to rent a couple O' DVD's instead. ("Layer Cake"= Awesome. "Kingdom of Heaven"= bo-ring. If I want to watch a film about the Crusades, I'll re-rent Terry Jones BBC documentary.) I was going to hit the Dakota Jazz Club around 11pm and watch my friend Adam play their "free set", so as I struggled through "Kingdom" I started dozing again.
Taking it as a sign, I went to take a power-nap so I had some energy for later when BOOM!
3:30 am.
Wide awake.
So I went downstairs and chopped veggies for an omelette, had a glass of wine, and picked up a book. Then watched some more "Kingdom of Douchedom". Before finally succumbing to sleep around 6am.
Waking later on Sunday, I was super excited at the prospect of omelettes. 'Bean woke me up with a call of "Are you Decent?!" And I replied: "Jellybean...I'm NEVER decent" which was as good of a response as any to segue into my introduction to his mom. And boy howdy, is she Texan. Tan, twinkly eyes, bright blue t-shirt, white jeans, white canvas shoes....and one of those gold-coiny looking rope belts. No s#it. She was darling, and she gifted us a bottle of Italian red wine.
Instead of omelettes, I spaced out "Dim Sum" breakfast I had planned with the Thorne's et. al, which was in...ohhh, 10 minutes. How I remembered without 'Peppa is beyond me. So breakfast went until 1pm. I come home and DAD calls which was another 2.5 hours on the phone. (He was giving me the 411 as to who I should vote for Hennepin County Sheriff. And that was just the 1st hour, kittens.) Which meant my afternoon was gone before I needed to head over to the No Refunds Theatre Congratulatory dinner @ the New Chatterbox Pub in Saint Paul. Good Times. Free wine. Good food. And a be-kilted Shinobi-Wan schooling us at freeplay cricket.
Then home. A Mo-visit to recount her road trip...then bed.
So FeeJ and the Thorne's are CLEARLY the winners when it comes to home projects.
I just plain suck in the most unmotivational way. Boo.
Nada. Nothing. No workouts, No mowing, no mulch laying, no edging installations...zilch.
Well, scratch that bit. A smidge.
Friday= Was supposed to meet a friend for cocktails after her shift ended. I got dressed, headed downstairs to wait for a phone call. When 10pm rolled around, I started reading...then snnnnnzzkkzzk.
I woke up at midnight to see that she'd called to say her shift ended way late and she went home to bed. I'm off the hook, hookers.
Sats= I spent the whoooooooooole day cleaning my house to prepare for the arrival of the 'Beans mom. Top- to- bottom. For future reference, y'all? It takes approximately 2.5 hours to dust/clean the hardwood surfaces which includes moving furniture. Another 2 to clean the windows. I gave some thought to going out and catching a film, but opted to rent a couple O' DVD's instead. ("Layer Cake"= Awesome. "Kingdom of Heaven"= bo-ring. If I want to watch a film about the Crusades, I'll re-rent Terry Jones BBC documentary.) I was going to hit the Dakota Jazz Club around 11pm and watch my friend Adam play their "free set", so as I struggled through "Kingdom" I started dozing again.
Taking it as a sign, I went to take a power-nap so I had some energy for later when BOOM!
3:30 am.
Wide awake.
So I went downstairs and chopped veggies for an omelette, had a glass of wine, and picked up a book. Then watched some more "Kingdom of Douchedom". Before finally succumbing to sleep around 6am.
Waking later on Sunday, I was super excited at the prospect of omelettes. 'Bean woke me up with a call of "Are you Decent?!" And I replied: "Jellybean...I'm NEVER decent" which was as good of a response as any to segue into my introduction to his mom. And boy howdy, is she Texan. Tan, twinkly eyes, bright blue t-shirt, white jeans, white canvas shoes....and one of those gold-coiny looking rope belts. No s#it. She was darling, and she gifted us a bottle of Italian red wine.
Instead of omelettes, I spaced out "Dim Sum" breakfast I had planned with the Thorne's et. al, which was in...ohhh, 10 minutes. How I remembered without 'Peppa is beyond me. So breakfast went until 1pm. I come home and DAD calls which was another 2.5 hours on the phone. (He was giving me the 411 as to who I should vote for Hennepin County Sheriff. And that was just the 1st hour, kittens.) Which meant my afternoon was gone before I needed to head over to the No Refunds Theatre Congratulatory dinner @ the New Chatterbox Pub in Saint Paul. Good Times. Free wine. Good food. And a be-kilted Shinobi-Wan schooling us at freeplay cricket.
Then home. A Mo-visit to recount her road trip...then bed.
So FeeJ and the Thorne's are CLEARLY the winners when it comes to home projects.
I just plain suck in the most unmotivational way. Boo.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
What...the?
It's funny how all the fires that come up at work don't ever get a rise out of me, but the little things can just bite my balls. Today-
I'm going to toss my leftover Chinese in the break room fridge, only to find it full. Now, I get to work at 7 am-ish so it has NEVER been a problem to sneak a corner to stash my vittles. But SOME thinking mo-fo felt the pressing need to cram a 24 pack of water in the fridge. So everyone else has to contend with their inconsideration!
"I think that's just rude" exclaimed a woman standing next to the fridge with a disdainful look on her face.
"Rude? You haven't heard the stream of profanity I want to utter right now. What, The, Fu..."
So. I pulled that shit out and set it on the top of the fridge. B#tches. Between that, and the people who leave their cream cheese in there for weeks with a little no "Oh please, pleeeeease don't throw away my cream cheese for my daily bagel. Pleeeeeease" even THOUGH the sign on the fridge CuhLEARLY states "We will throw away your shit after 5pm EVERY Friday if you leave it in the refrigerator." (We had some problems with mold, see. ) People, Please! You are defying the simple rules that GE has set down! I don't see any cots? Or tasteful couches and coffee tables. I don't see a coffee machine?
This is not-you-HOUSE! Stop bringing TWO GALLONS of MILK and leaving it in there all week! You're using up your 5X5 square inch allotment that has been allowed by management! Stop bringing in your Hefty Hefty Cinch Sacks to cart your FOOD in!
Seriously. 150 work on this floor, and we have one teeny fridgey fridgey buck-buck to work with. A little consideration, people.
In other news, steamed mixed veggies with tofu is actually pretty good. Makes for WONderful leftovers.
I'm going to toss my leftover Chinese in the break room fridge, only to find it full. Now, I get to work at 7 am-ish so it has NEVER been a problem to sneak a corner to stash my vittles. But SOME thinking mo-fo felt the pressing need to cram a 24 pack of water in the fridge. So everyone else has to contend with their inconsideration!
"I think that's just rude" exclaimed a woman standing next to the fridge with a disdainful look on her face.
"Rude? You haven't heard the stream of profanity I want to utter right now. What, The, Fu..."
So. I pulled that shit out and set it on the top of the fridge. B#tches. Between that, and the people who leave their cream cheese in there for weeks with a little no "Oh please, pleeeeease don't throw away my cream cheese for my daily bagel. Pleeeeeease" even THOUGH the sign on the fridge CuhLEARLY states "We will throw away your shit after 5pm EVERY Friday if you leave it in the refrigerator." (We had some problems with mold, see. ) People, Please! You are defying the simple rules that GE has set down! I don't see any cots? Or tasteful couches and coffee tables. I don't see a coffee machine?
This is not-you-HOUSE! Stop bringing TWO GALLONS of MILK and leaving it in there all week! You're using up your 5X5 square inch allotment that has been allowed by management! Stop bringing in your Hefty Hefty Cinch Sacks to cart your FOOD in!
Seriously. 150 work on this floor, and we have one teeny fridgey fridgey buck-buck to work with. A little consideration, people.
In other news, steamed mixed veggies with tofu is actually pretty good. Makes for WONderful leftovers.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Day...bidet
Lawnmowers run much better when there is gas innem. IJS.
Friday I came home to a pleasant surprise: My camera phone. wOOt technology. Prepare yourselves for some lascivious photo's. The world is a dirty place when seen through my eyes.
(And I proceeded in slicing my fingers open trying to pry my old tricorder cell phone apart to get the fucking SIM card out.)
Mo-peppa came over and I gifted her (In spite of the fact that it was a day early. I'm impatient. Shup) And the 'Bean was kind enough to give us an invite to see Debbie Duncan and Dennis Spears perform together at Sophia. They were phenom- We et, Danced, and went for a leisurely stroll over to Nicollet Island where we considered crashing a wedding ("I bet there's free booze in there") and saw 1,000's of fat spiders idling on the bridge...That, I'll admit, was freaky. And I don't even mind spider's.
Saturday- It's "Mo's Day" as I was reminded throughout the day, therefore we do "Mo things" including:
Reading and Relaxing at the Wilde Roast over mocha's
Hitting the Mipples Library to return some s#it and see if they have a copy of "Freakanomics" (There's a 4 week wait until the next available copy)
Midtown Global Market for lunch. (You should all go. We danced to African rhythms. Stay away from the Thai. Boo for onions)
Walking around Minnehaha Falls. (Many pampied children and weddings. If you know someone who was married there and a half naked dude winds up in their photo's- blame me)
Shopping for her evening outfit at Calhoun Square. (WTF Happened to that place, btw?)
Then napping, to prepare our bodies for the evenings event:
Psycho Suzi's (I gave Rik Reppe my S.O.'s phone number. Does that seem weird?)
Nye's (Paint thinner is weaker than the cocktails at Nye's)
Finished with dancing at the Froooont (I was accosted by a woman dressed as Hamburgler. No lie)
Thanks to everyone who came out to play. You made it an awesome night.
Sunday I poured a cement sidewalk. Which was a bitch. I'm all over sore today. And it still looks like shit. But...I'm done. That was "The big project of '06". After that I was pretty wiped, HOWEVER I had another big kid birthday to attend so my shout out to Magrooders! Happy B'day, sweetness!*
And finally...I watched "Brokeback Mounting". It was good and all, but for the life of me I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. I thought Michelle Williams was pretty awesome.
*I would like to point out for the record that whenever I go over to Redwrights for a party, 2 things almost ALways happen:
1) I eat, waaaaaay too much. Yes. Way too much. It's, like 10 a.m. now and I still feel like I'm stuffed to my trachea. A Boca burger, pasta, hamburger patty (Yeah, that's what I think did it to me. Vom) Annnnnnnd, hovering for a half hour over the spinach artichoke dip (And the salmon artichoke spread that was right next to it) Makes for a very unhappy Baby P.
2) I forget something. July 4th it was my cowboy hat. Yesterday it was my man-satchel. Complete with work ID, and wallet. Not fun. Booooooo....
Friday I came home to a pleasant surprise: My camera phone. wOOt technology. Prepare yourselves for some lascivious photo's. The world is a dirty place when seen through my eyes.
(And I proceeded in slicing my fingers open trying to pry my old tricorder cell phone apart to get the fucking SIM card out.)
Mo-peppa came over and I gifted her (In spite of the fact that it was a day early. I'm impatient. Shup) And the 'Bean was kind enough to give us an invite to see Debbie Duncan and Dennis Spears perform together at Sophia. They were phenom- We et, Danced, and went for a leisurely stroll over to Nicollet Island where we considered crashing a wedding ("I bet there's free booze in there") and saw 1,000's of fat spiders idling on the bridge...That, I'll admit, was freaky. And I don't even mind spider's.
Saturday- It's "Mo's Day" as I was reminded throughout the day, therefore we do "Mo things" including:
Reading and Relaxing at the Wilde Roast over mocha's
Hitting the Mipples Library to return some s#it and see if they have a copy of "Freakanomics" (There's a 4 week wait until the next available copy)
Midtown Global Market for lunch. (You should all go. We danced to African rhythms. Stay away from the Thai. Boo for onions)
Walking around Minnehaha Falls. (Many pampied children and weddings. If you know someone who was married there and a half naked dude winds up in their photo's- blame me)
Shopping for her evening outfit at Calhoun Square. (WTF Happened to that place, btw?)
Then napping, to prepare our bodies for the evenings event:
Psycho Suzi's (I gave Rik Reppe my S.O.'s phone number. Does that seem weird?)
Nye's (Paint thinner is weaker than the cocktails at Nye's)
Finished with dancing at the Froooont (I was accosted by a woman dressed as Hamburgler. No lie)
Thanks to everyone who came out to play. You made it an awesome night.
Sunday I poured a cement sidewalk. Which was a bitch. I'm all over sore today. And it still looks like shit. But...I'm done. That was "The big project of '06". After that I was pretty wiped, HOWEVER I had another big kid birthday to attend so my shout out to Magrooders! Happy B'day, sweetness!*
And finally...I watched "Brokeback Mounting". It was good and all, but for the life of me I'm not sure what all the fuss was about. I thought Michelle Williams was pretty awesome.
*I would like to point out for the record that whenever I go over to Redwrights for a party, 2 things almost ALways happen:
1) I eat, waaaaaay too much. Yes. Way too much. It's, like 10 a.m. now and I still feel like I'm stuffed to my trachea. A Boca burger, pasta, hamburger patty (Yeah, that's what I think did it to me. Vom) Annnnnnnd, hovering for a half hour over the spinach artichoke dip (And the salmon artichoke spread that was right next to it) Makes for a very unhappy Baby P.
2) I forget something. July 4th it was my cowboy hat. Yesterday it was my man-satchel. Complete with work ID, and wallet. Not fun. Booooooo....
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Haaaaaapy BIRTHDAY!
To Dorajar/Moped/Peppa-pants/Prrrrty Petunia/Beautiful Branch/Pseudo Hippy
MO!
A birthday rap, for the girl who did a Christian Rap at the Fringe. (And is now part of her dad's "Arsenal")
Here's a birthday rap, for my friend "Mo-Mo"
Who turns 25 on this day, you know/
People call her a hippy, 'cause she's social, smart, and keen
And she owns a denim napkin when she likes to be seen/
She's a wanderlusty rambler who is always on the move,
But she'll throw you out a punchdown when she's getting on her groove/
She's the phenomenalist woman in the U.S. and world,
So I thought I'd rap some love, to the birthday girl...
Word
Love ya Mo-seph! Happy Birthday, and many happy returns!
(Go to Suzi's Psycho 2-nite to wish her a happy happy and buy her a drink, if'n ya feel like it!)
MO!
A birthday rap, for the girl who did a Christian Rap at the Fringe. (And is now part of her dad's "Arsenal")
Here's a birthday rap, for my friend "Mo-Mo"
Who turns 25 on this day, you know/
People call her a hippy, 'cause she's social, smart, and keen
And she owns a denim napkin when she likes to be seen/
She's a wanderlusty rambler who is always on the move,
But she'll throw you out a punchdown when she's getting on her groove/
She's the phenomenalist woman in the U.S. and world,
So I thought I'd rap some love, to the birthday girl...
Word
Love ya Mo-seph! Happy Birthday, and many happy returns!
(Go to Suzi's Psycho 2-nite to wish her a happy happy and buy her a drink, if'n ya feel like it!)
Friday, August 18, 2006
Please interpret...
My dream last night...ahem:
I was hanging out with Peppa (And a bunch of hot lesbians. Okay, so in my dream they are really attractive) in the upstairs living room of a suburban split level 2 story. Outside of the bay front window, a remote controlled helicopter deal with camera goes by with the KARE 11 logo on it. Apparently, the news stations uses it to get video recording of neighborhood news stories. As it flies by the bay window, the lesbians start flashing the camera.
This is all well and good, but I realize that I have to clean out some dusty books in my parents cabin. (Except, it's more along the lines of a gabled roof log cabin) I need to use the toilet, and before hand I wipe the seat with almost an entire roll of toilet paper. No idea why this was a good idea. I'm dreaming. I know I'm gonna have to clean out the terlet (A prospect I'm not relishing) but rather than do the Egyptian thing and shove my hand in there I'm bound and determined to get some rubber gloves on.
Heading downstairs, I get called outside by my mom who needs me to go through a box of GI Joe figures (The old 12 inch "dolls") and help match up the missing arms with the correct "Joe" (See, the old figures in the 60's had detachable arms) We're going through the box matching the bionic Joe arms to the bionic Joe body, when Ro comes over with his hands clasped behind his back and two GI Joe arms taped to his shoulders (Giving the appearance of having wee lil' arms.) in an attempt to be funny. I only think it's funny because he's taped two left arms to himself and not an appropriate left and right arm. What's more, I notice that I have the match to one of his arms.
Then I'm back inside wondering if I can just flush the remnants down and, woop, no go. BUT enough of the TP has gone down the drain that it shouldn't be too daunting to (ugh) reach in and get the rest. I realize I don't have gloves on but I think in my dream state that I can just, reach in quick like and throw the wet toiletty TeeP's away without too much poopy water infection.
Then I'm outside, by my car, in the early twilight a.m. and I see some teen kids (vandals and miscreants for sure) trying to hop over my fence into the back yard. I'm crouched behind the bumper and before they can try to get in I SPRING out and say "YEAAAARRRRGH" shaking my hands above me and just screaming bloody murder...all the while the kids are scrambling away, running, screaming. And I feel satisfied that for once, in my dreamstate, I was able to chase ne'er do wells off as opposed to feeling powerless to stop them. (ex: Moving in slo mo during a fight)
I was hanging out with Peppa (And a bunch of hot lesbians. Okay, so in my dream they are really attractive) in the upstairs living room of a suburban split level 2 story. Outside of the bay front window, a remote controlled helicopter deal with camera goes by with the KARE 11 logo on it. Apparently, the news stations uses it to get video recording of neighborhood news stories. As it flies by the bay window, the lesbians start flashing the camera.
This is all well and good, but I realize that I have to clean out some dusty books in my parents cabin. (Except, it's more along the lines of a gabled roof log cabin) I need to use the toilet, and before hand I wipe the seat with almost an entire roll of toilet paper. No idea why this was a good idea. I'm dreaming. I know I'm gonna have to clean out the terlet (A prospect I'm not relishing) but rather than do the Egyptian thing and shove my hand in there I'm bound and determined to get some rubber gloves on.
Heading downstairs, I get called outside by my mom who needs me to go through a box of GI Joe figures (The old 12 inch "dolls") and help match up the missing arms with the correct "Joe" (See, the old figures in the 60's had detachable arms) We're going through the box matching the bionic Joe arms to the bionic Joe body, when Ro comes over with his hands clasped behind his back and two GI Joe arms taped to his shoulders (Giving the appearance of having wee lil' arms.) in an attempt to be funny. I only think it's funny because he's taped two left arms to himself and not an appropriate left and right arm. What's more, I notice that I have the match to one of his arms.
Then I'm back inside wondering if I can just flush the remnants down and, woop, no go. BUT enough of the TP has gone down the drain that it shouldn't be too daunting to (ugh) reach in and get the rest. I realize I don't have gloves on but I think in my dream state that I can just, reach in quick like and throw the wet toiletty TeeP's away without too much poopy water infection.
Then I'm outside, by my car, in the early twilight a.m. and I see some teen kids (vandals and miscreants for sure) trying to hop over my fence into the back yard. I'm crouched behind the bumper and before they can try to get in I SPRING out and say "YEAAAARRRRGH" shaking my hands above me and just screaming bloody murder...all the while the kids are scrambling away, running, screaming. And I feel satisfied that for once, in my dreamstate, I was able to chase ne'er do wells off as opposed to feeling powerless to stop them. (ex: Moving in slo mo during a fight)
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Amazing I'm not fired...
I just told an associate manager (read: Big Wig Corporate Mucky Muck) that he was wearing a "prison tie". Black and white horizontal stripes going up and down. He laughed.
Doubtful he would have laughed if I called it a "Hamburgler Tie", followed with a shout of "ROBBLE ROBBLE!"
Or if I started singing "Les Mis" in his general direction.."Who am IIIIIIII? I'm TWO FOUR SIX OH OOOOOONNNNNNEEEEE!"
No. Not weird at all. Perfectly adaptable in corporate environs. Carry on.
Doubtful he would have laughed if I called it a "Hamburgler Tie", followed with a shout of "ROBBLE ROBBLE!"
Or if I started singing "Les Mis" in his general direction.."Who am IIIIIIII? I'm TWO FOUR SIX OH OOOOOONNNNNNEEEEE!"
No. Not weird at all. Perfectly adaptable in corporate environs. Carry on.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Of Frass and Frrreeeeeinge
If my voice was absent these past few days it was largely due to that raucous party known to all as The Fringe Vegetable. By my own admission, I’m a turrible Fringer (Always starting the run with the intent of seeing boo-too shows, and then wind up barely seeing a skinny handful. My bad.) This year proved better than years past however in the fact that I was actually able to get out and enjoy the Fringe atmosphere. 1st time in, ohhhhh, 3 years I’d wager? Hmmmmmm. Funny that, eh? AND armed with a Fringe bu’on and artist pass (Always funny, seeing that. Makes me feel all artsy) there was really no reason I couldn’t go. I just…didn’t? Fringe induced narcolepsy tends to about these 10 days: Sometimes a result of seeing a lot of shows, seeing bad shows, crowds, working on your own show. It’s maddening. Which also meant I spent the better part of the weekend in a partly to mostly catatonic state. Not even drink induced.
A recap:
Frids: Moped bopped over after doing her Fringe Hippying and we snarfed Curry b4 she spit the bit for more Fringeness. I…stayed in and read.
Sats: More depot trips. Spent some cat time at Rosackers. (Their store kitty is super cute…albeit incredibly gassy. I’m not kidding. Scientests, take note: That cat’s ass should be treated as a renewable fuel source!) After a quick clean up at home, we took a little side trip to go purchase…the prop.
I don’t know what inspired me to go this route for a character. Our show was a free-form lampoon of the Am. Idol series and the only structure I was told was to make up a funny character. On our road trip, I bounced the idea of a redneck cowboy (Do you have any other characters you’d maybe like to try, P?) off of Mopes. The caveat was that instead of singing, ohhhh, country- He’d do a hardcore gangsta rap. Then in the semi-finals something from musical theater (I’ll get to that in a minnit) and then an Italian aria for the final. Get it? Play a type. Play against it. Comic. Gold.
So the NRT boys were cool with it. And opening night I frassed onstage in overalls and did "The Humpty Dance". Woo. Hoo. (Felt re-dickly un-funy for some reason) And here I thought it was a well thought out bit.
Back to the story- Here we were on an overcast Saturday afternoon, in a Fantasy Gifts, perusing banana hammocks. W/Peppa’s helpa, I settled on something that looked like this guy, right here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000C4YT0G/002-0640648-5906444?redirect=true
The sunbitchin’ cashier had to ring my card twice…then call it in. (Let’s not embarrass baby P too badly while waiting to buy his smut) We amused ourselves by looking over the delightful adult genital mold (Not..you know, mildew) kits. Something about dipping my package in plaster of Paris just so my lover has a little C and B paperweight doesn’t sound all that appealing.
After a delicious dinner of angel hair pasta/pesto/shrimp, two shots of tequila, and an iron resolve- I the show and sang "Age of Aquarius" from "Hair".
While taking my clothes off.
‘Cause that’s what they do in that show, dontcha know?
It's just too bad we didn’t have a full house. Or maybe it was better that we didn’t?
Yeah. Prolly better. Methinks I'm not well-suited for hammock work.
We hit the ‘Mad for a post Fringe nightcap and called it an evening. Too much adrenaline wore me out.
Sunday pissed me off. I had started the day with the only intention of laying some concrete when KA-boom…all day rain. All. Day. (Does anyone else hate walking into a store like Cub or Rainbow after it’s rained and your rassin’ frassin’ shoes squeek the entire time you’re in there? Just me, huh?)
We closed. (After I receive a cryptic message that a pint was waiting for me at Herks. I had no idea what it meant until I saw Trev-monster holding up the end of the bar) Mom came back along w/Ro and Co and they were thankfully spared the hammock viewing- (Funny thing- Mother chastised me on my choice of "bit")
I came home.
Had marinated chicky boob sammies w/sauteed veggies and discovered that my Grill is persnickety (FAHHHHK!) I do want to encourage y'all to hit the Farmers Market. It’s sick. The veggies look like they were grown at the Alamagordo test site they’re that big. After milling around the house like zombies, we hit the closing night celebration at Joes ‘round 10pm. Which is a pretty good frassin' time all around.
Although I've learned that my car is teh Fooked. (Double FAHK!!!)
Annnnnnnd. I’m looking at having a pretty lame ass start to my evening tonight.
So. Mixed bag of ennui, frass, joy, and embarrassment. Welcome to mid-August campers! And happy Montag!
(In other news? CONGRATs to Tech and Portana who became engaged this weekend! You kids ROCK!)
A recap:
Frids: Moped bopped over after doing her Fringe Hippying and we snarfed Curry b4 she spit the bit for more Fringeness. I…stayed in and read.
Sats: More depot trips. Spent some cat time at Rosackers. (Their store kitty is super cute…albeit incredibly gassy. I’m not kidding. Scientests, take note: That cat’s ass should be treated as a renewable fuel source!) After a quick clean up at home, we took a little side trip to go purchase…the prop.
I don’t know what inspired me to go this route for a character. Our show was a free-form lampoon of the Am. Idol series and the only structure I was told was to make up a funny character. On our road trip, I bounced the idea of a redneck cowboy (Do you have any other characters you’d maybe like to try, P?) off of Mopes. The caveat was that instead of singing, ohhhh, country- He’d do a hardcore gangsta rap. Then in the semi-finals something from musical theater (I’ll get to that in a minnit) and then an Italian aria for the final. Get it? Play a type. Play against it. Comic. Gold.
So the NRT boys were cool with it. And opening night I frassed onstage in overalls and did "The Humpty Dance". Woo. Hoo. (Felt re-dickly un-funy for some reason) And here I thought it was a well thought out bit.
Back to the story- Here we were on an overcast Saturday afternoon, in a Fantasy Gifts, perusing banana hammocks. W/Peppa’s helpa, I settled on something that looked like this guy, right here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000C4YT0G/002-0640648-5906444?redirect=true
The sunbitchin’ cashier had to ring my card twice…then call it in. (Let’s not embarrass baby P too badly while waiting to buy his smut) We amused ourselves by looking over the delightful adult genital mold (Not..you know, mildew) kits. Something about dipping my package in plaster of Paris just so my lover has a little C and B paperweight doesn’t sound all that appealing.
After a delicious dinner of angel hair pasta/pesto/shrimp, two shots of tequila, and an iron resolve- I the show and sang "Age of Aquarius" from "Hair".
While taking my clothes off.
‘Cause that’s what they do in that show, dontcha know?
It's just too bad we didn’t have a full house. Or maybe it was better that we didn’t?
Yeah. Prolly better. Methinks I'm not well-suited for hammock work.
We hit the ‘Mad for a post Fringe nightcap and called it an evening. Too much adrenaline wore me out.
Sunday pissed me off. I had started the day with the only intention of laying some concrete when KA-boom…all day rain. All. Day. (Does anyone else hate walking into a store like Cub or Rainbow after it’s rained and your rassin’ frassin’ shoes squeek the entire time you’re in there? Just me, huh?)
We closed. (After I receive a cryptic message that a pint was waiting for me at Herks. I had no idea what it meant until I saw Trev-monster holding up the end of the bar) Mom came back along w/Ro and Co and they were thankfully spared the hammock viewing- (Funny thing- Mother chastised me on my choice of "bit")
I came home.
Had marinated chicky boob sammies w/sauteed veggies and discovered that my Grill is persnickety (FAHHHHK!) I do want to encourage y'all to hit the Farmers Market. It’s sick. The veggies look like they were grown at the Alamagordo test site they’re that big. After milling around the house like zombies, we hit the closing night celebration at Joes ‘round 10pm. Which is a pretty good frassin' time all around.
Although I've learned that my car is teh Fooked. (Double FAHK!!!)
Annnnnnnd. I’m looking at having a pretty lame ass start to my evening tonight.
So. Mixed bag of ennui, frass, joy, and embarrassment. Welcome to mid-August campers! And happy Montag!
(In other news? CONGRATs to Tech and Portana who became engaged this weekend! You kids ROCK!)
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Quick Notes
Note to self: "4.5 minutes is a little too long to put your soup in the 'wave."
Not to lips and roof of mouth?:
Sorry... : (
Not to lips and roof of mouth?:
Sorry... : (
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
IN-teresting...
Hmmmm. Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm...
http://www.startribune.com/789/story/604727.html
Children learn what they live, I guess.
http://www.startribune.com/789/story/604727.html
Children learn what they live, I guess.
Delightful Bathroom
They installed this great deodorizer in the 2nd floor terlet here at work.
Really smells nice.
The little things, you know?
Really smells nice.
The little things, you know?
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Dare me...
To eat that new BK Quad Stacker. 4 meat patties. Cheese. 8 (count'em) 8 strips of bacon.
Yeesh. It seems like a "Simpson's" joke.
I think I'll hit up the Holy Land Buffet instead.
Yeesh. It seems like a "Simpson's" joke.
I think I'll hit up the Holy Land Buffet instead.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Won't be joining the Mason's anytime soon...
I tried my hand at cement mixing/pouring to extend my North side walkway into the patio.
In regards to mixing it? Let's just say that shit ain't oatmeal, dig?
And the amount I mixed? Four 50 lbs bags. Per normal...I grossly underestimated the # of bags I'll need. 16 more 50 lbs. bags I'd wager. That's only 800 more pounds.
My ribs hurt from trying to stir that crap.
Crap. I'm such a maroon.
In regards to mixing it? Let's just say that shit ain't oatmeal, dig?
And the amount I mixed? Four 50 lbs bags. Per normal...I grossly underestimated the # of bags I'll need. 16 more 50 lbs. bags I'd wager. That's only 800 more pounds.
My ribs hurt from trying to stir that crap.
Crap. I'm such a maroon.
Friday, August 04, 2006
It's that time, Fringer's
This is where I peeeemp my show. And the lil' diva inside me'll highlight the shows I'll be in...and a special star by the banana hammock show. I'm playing a guy named Garret Seaver...a cowboy with unusual singing talents.
From the good folks who brought you past Fringe successes Kung Fu Hamlet, 8/7 Central, and Zombiemania comes:
Project: Twin Cities American Next Top Idol Search!
Presented by No Refunds Theatre Co.
NEVER THE SAME SHOW TWICE! This summer, at the Minnesota Fringe Festival, contestants from around the world will compete for the chance to be the next No Refunds Superstar, and win ONE HUNDRED MILLION BAJILLION DOLLARS! See these starry eyed hopefuls conquer scientifically designed performance challenges that will transform your thoughts into happy emoticons! Each episodic performance welcomes a new crop of contestants; the winners advance to the semi-finals, and the losers are put to death! No matter who wins…we keep your money.
All performances at Intermedia Farts- A scent free venue
Saturday 8/5 at 7:00 PM
Sunday 8/6 at 10:00 PM
Thursday 8/10 at 5:30 PM
Saturday 8/12 at 10:00 PM *
Sunday 8/13 at 4:00 PM
From the good folks who brought you past Fringe successes Kung Fu Hamlet, 8/7 Central, and Zombiemania comes:
Project: Twin Cities American Next Top Idol Search!
Presented by No Refunds Theatre Co.
NEVER THE SAME SHOW TWICE! This summer, at the Minnesota Fringe Festival, contestants from around the world will compete for the chance to be the next No Refunds Superstar, and win ONE HUNDRED MILLION BAJILLION DOLLARS! See these starry eyed hopefuls conquer scientifically designed performance challenges that will transform your thoughts into happy emoticons! Each episodic performance welcomes a new crop of contestants; the winners advance to the semi-finals, and the losers are put to death! No matter who wins…we keep your money.
All performances at Intermedia Farts- A scent free venue
Saturday 8/5 at 7:00 PM
Sunday 8/6 at 10:00 PM
Thursday 8/10 at 5:30 PM
Saturday 8/12 at 10:00 PM *
Sunday 8/13 at 4:00 PM
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Yeah...Epic.
I know. I'm regurgitating online. Forgive. 2 more things:
#1-I just helped the ladies in reinsurance remember all of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms. No shit. I'm that guy. Furthermore, I went on to tell them about how I think Cap'N Crunch should be renamed "Toasted Golden Razor Blades" due to the fact that they almost ALWAYS cut the s#it outta the roof of your mouth, and how we used to eat the less 'spensive version of it as kids: King Vitamin. That was some honkey s#it right there, yo.
#2- "Ambassador of Douche". That's just so I remember the term. Way too funny not to share.
#1-I just helped the ladies in reinsurance remember all of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms. No shit. I'm that guy. Furthermore, I went on to tell them about how I think Cap'N Crunch should be renamed "Toasted Golden Razor Blades" due to the fact that they almost ALWAYS cut the s#it outta the roof of your mouth, and how we used to eat the less 'spensive version of it as kids: King Vitamin. That was some honkey s#it right there, yo.
#2- "Ambassador of Douche". That's just so I remember the term. Way too funny not to share.
NNO! What a brother know?
Wow. My roommate is maniacal. Fanatical. Or just...insane?
He's been excited for National Night Out since he read the Audubon Neighborhood News that said you could obtain a free permit if you registered your block b4 July 17. (*Which he didn't. BUT, the man called and hounded 4 different people before they acquiesced and waived the $100 late registry fee. Guys. If you knew 'Bean, you'd understand that it just doesn't fit his M.O.)
He put the bug in our accordian playing neighbors ear that polka music would be a welcome addition. (And subsequently requested that every time I see him, I verify that polka music is still "On". Every. Time) Started ordering up the paperwork needed, obtained permits, papered the neighborhood (Making early a.m. visits up and down the street.) And the guy pretty much refuted all of my offers to lend assistance. (Except that it was all gonna be in my name, and I was to print off 70 copies of "Warning" notices that the street was gonna be blocked off) I saw him outside shakin' hands and introducing himself to our Somali neighbors (Who, I think, I've only threw the casual wave toward in my 1.5 years there) Really? Not the same guy who I rented to in January. And really? It made me smile an awful lot.
On Sunday he was frassin' and bitchin' about the Tuesday night forecast (Hitting the steering wheel: "Gahd. Fahk. It better not rain! No. I hope it rains and then stops, or maybe...maybe it'll rain overnight and be dry the rest of the day?")
And then Tuesday? The thing our lawns and flowers desperately needed but which caused dread and frass in the poor 'Beans soul. Thunder. Boomies. And a forecast of showers. All. Day. Long.
I get home and he's pasted to a weather website ("Hey! This says it'll clear up in 20 minutes!" Followed by "Hey, did you see that the street is flooded?") My mom calls and tells me that her block party was cancelled, and the way the downspouts were over-FuhLOWIN' I was preparing for the same thing.
And then? Something quite strange and wonderful happened. Well, 2...no 3 things.
First- 'Peppa showed up.
Second- His Fredliness and Magrooders came trouncing up the back walkway.
Third- The rain. Stopped. At 7:30pm. Exactly when the 'Bean said it would. (And it didn't start again until well after midnight.)
"I need to borrow your car so we can tie off the barricade" was his halcyon cry. And just like that, the 1st annual Taylor St. Block Party was born. Tables and chairs were set up in the street. People brought out munchies. Beer, Cocktails, and Margarita's served in glasses the size of your head were imbibed. (In spite of our friendly police presence) Nametags were worn. Introductions were made. It was kinda kinda special.
Oh. There was polka. Oh yes. Peppa and I polka'ed which regressed into uncomfortable arms-length junior high dancing. Which got caught on video. Oh, that reminds me, the weirdest of weirds- the Nordeast Paparazzi showing up.
So I go in the house to change and when I go back outside there were the Nordeaster photog's snapping pics and 'Bean is pointing some guy with a microphone and camera at me to answer a couple of questions. (So tune in for the abridged version of baby P telling the good folks on public access why he feels NNO is vital to help build safe communit...yeah I was that guy. And I probably looked bald. And gay.)
So all told, a rather successful evening. Thanks, in part, to one tenacious roommate. I almost feel bad for sealing off his bedroom using the leftover yellow police barricade tape. Almost.
He's been excited for National Night Out since he read the Audubon Neighborhood News that said you could obtain a free permit if you registered your block b4 July 17. (*Which he didn't. BUT, the man called and hounded 4 different people before they acquiesced and waived the $100 late registry fee. Guys. If you knew 'Bean, you'd understand that it just doesn't fit his M.O.)
He put the bug in our accordian playing neighbors ear that polka music would be a welcome addition. (And subsequently requested that every time I see him, I verify that polka music is still "On". Every. Time) Started ordering up the paperwork needed, obtained permits, papered the neighborhood (Making early a.m. visits up and down the street.) And the guy pretty much refuted all of my offers to lend assistance. (Except that it was all gonna be in my name, and I was to print off 70 copies of "Warning" notices that the street was gonna be blocked off) I saw him outside shakin' hands and introducing himself to our Somali neighbors (Who, I think, I've only threw the casual wave toward in my 1.5 years there) Really? Not the same guy who I rented to in January. And really? It made me smile an awful lot.
On Sunday he was frassin' and bitchin' about the Tuesday night forecast (Hitting the steering wheel: "Gahd. Fahk. It better not rain! No. I hope it rains and then stops, or maybe...maybe it'll rain overnight and be dry the rest of the day?")
And then Tuesday? The thing our lawns and flowers desperately needed but which caused dread and frass in the poor 'Beans soul. Thunder. Boomies. And a forecast of showers. All. Day. Long.
I get home and he's pasted to a weather website ("Hey! This says it'll clear up in 20 minutes!" Followed by "Hey, did you see that the street is flooded?") My mom calls and tells me that her block party was cancelled, and the way the downspouts were over-FuhLOWIN' I was preparing for the same thing.
And then? Something quite strange and wonderful happened. Well, 2...no 3 things.
First- 'Peppa showed up.
Second- His Fredliness and Magrooders came trouncing up the back walkway.
Third- The rain. Stopped. At 7:30pm. Exactly when the 'Bean said it would. (And it didn't start again until well after midnight.)
"I need to borrow your car so we can tie off the barricade" was his halcyon cry. And just like that, the 1st annual Taylor St. Block Party was born. Tables and chairs were set up in the street. People brought out munchies. Beer, Cocktails, and Margarita's served in glasses the size of your head were imbibed. (In spite of our friendly police presence) Nametags were worn. Introductions were made. It was kinda kinda special.
Oh. There was polka. Oh yes. Peppa and I polka'ed which regressed into uncomfortable arms-length junior high dancing. Which got caught on video. Oh, that reminds me, the weirdest of weirds- the Nordeast Paparazzi showing up.
So I go in the house to change and when I go back outside there were the Nordeaster photog's snapping pics and 'Bean is pointing some guy with a microphone and camera at me to answer a couple of questions. (So tune in for the abridged version of baby P telling the good folks on public access why he feels NNO is vital to help build safe communit...yeah I was that guy. And I probably looked bald. And gay.)
So all told, a rather successful evening. Thanks, in part, to one tenacious roommate. I almost feel bad for sealing off his bedroom using the leftover yellow police barricade tape. Almost.
Hot ball$!
Hard to say it was an "epic" weekend when you don't wanna set foot in the out of doors. For serial. 110 degree heat index? Oof. The mega hot weather has got my car acting frassy (Apparently, transmission fluid can boil. Therefore, Baby P's car likes to rev up to 4,000 rpm's without going over 30 mph. Fuck. Like taking my car into the shop is something I can get excited about. My tummy turns at the prospect after working so hard to save $. Whine, over.)
So what to do? Same thing we do in it's freezin' ba11s outside- Movie nights for buddies.
Friday- "The Libertine" coupled with Thai veggies and RED curry this time. So adventurous, trying the red and all. Let's see. Johnny Depp. John Malkovich. Period piece. Seemed like a hot ticket. Really, it was kinda "meh". Don't get me wrong, they all acted the heck out of it. And the mood, and the costumes, and the make up, and the lighting (Lit entirely by candles, dontcha know? Fascinating.) da dah da dah da dah. After it was done I said "That felt like it would have been a better play" and sure enough- Based on a play. (Doi, P) Plus, the director douche decided he wanted to shoot it "documentary" style rather sweeping/epic dolly shots like most period films. Shoddy.
Skip it, y'all. Seriously. It isn't an overlooked gem. Even if you want to make wild hot humpies with Mr. Depp.
Sats- I cut my pitifully blonde lawn. More rehearsal. More car vroomy vroomy frass. (Sorry MD, for not making it out to the BBQ. Too hot to move) We snuck in a clandestine visit to the BBP (Thanks Redwright) B4 heading home.
In a sweeping turn of events, Peppa cooked dinner for movie nacht zwei!
The movies: I opted for TV shows this time, promising myself that I'd get caught up on "Fuss" shows. (Or, "What's all the fuss about") "Deadwood: Season 1" and "Da Ali G Show"
The Food: Greek Pasta. (Chicken, Artichoke hearts, olive oil, tomatoes served over penne.)
The food was teh good (Thanks again, Pepps) "Deadwood"? I think I (Or maybe the good peeps at Video Stardom?) fucked up, since I ended up with season 2 and we had a bitch of a time trying to get ourselves involved with these characters and their relationships. It seems like it'd be good? Maybe? Ali G though? Okay. Fine. You win. Funny shit. Couldn't take it. Laughed my a$$ off. Gonna need to see "Borat" now. "My seester is number 2 or number 3 sex in mouth in all of Khazikstan..." Wow.
Sunday was all day frass. 'Bean was kind enough to cart my a$$ to the Depot to load up his loaner truck with mulch (Seriously? That thing is bigger than he is. I mean. He doesn't even come up to the cab) 2 trips. 36 bags. (20 for dad). 4 transplanted tree's. 50 feet of weed barrier. And 1 case of heat stroke. (So. I was hydrating myself. 6pm rolled around and I hit a wall, is all. Did you know when you get heat stroke that birds look like they are flying in slow motion?) We invited ourselves over to the WW ranch for some more float time b4 calling it a night.
Did I mention I finally drug my cottage cheese buns out to run? On Saturday. And Sunday. I am a machine. 100 above or 20 below...I'll f#ck up the mean streets of Nordeast.
Hoo. It was hotter'n a b#tch, though. Hope y'all stayed cool, my babies.
So what to do? Same thing we do in it's freezin' ba11s outside- Movie nights for buddies.
Friday- "The Libertine" coupled with Thai veggies and RED curry this time. So adventurous, trying the red and all. Let's see. Johnny Depp. John Malkovich. Period piece. Seemed like a hot ticket. Really, it was kinda "meh". Don't get me wrong, they all acted the heck out of it. And the mood, and the costumes, and the make up, and the lighting (Lit entirely by candles, dontcha know? Fascinating.) da dah da dah da dah. After it was done I said "That felt like it would have been a better play" and sure enough- Based on a play. (Doi, P) Plus, the director douche decided he wanted to shoot it "documentary" style rather sweeping/epic dolly shots like most period films. Shoddy.
Skip it, y'all. Seriously. It isn't an overlooked gem. Even if you want to make wild hot humpies with Mr. Depp.
Sats- I cut my pitifully blonde lawn. More rehearsal. More car vroomy vroomy frass. (Sorry MD, for not making it out to the BBQ. Too hot to move) We snuck in a clandestine visit to the BBP (Thanks Redwright) B4 heading home.
In a sweeping turn of events, Peppa cooked dinner for movie nacht zwei!
The movies: I opted for TV shows this time, promising myself that I'd get caught up on "Fuss" shows. (Or, "What's all the fuss about") "Deadwood: Season 1" and "Da Ali G Show"
The Food: Greek Pasta. (Chicken, Artichoke hearts, olive oil, tomatoes served over penne.)
The food was teh good (Thanks again, Pepps) "Deadwood"? I think I (Or maybe the good peeps at Video Stardom?) fucked up, since I ended up with season 2 and we had a bitch of a time trying to get ourselves involved with these characters and their relationships. It seems like it'd be good? Maybe? Ali G though? Okay. Fine. You win. Funny shit. Couldn't take it. Laughed my a$$ off. Gonna need to see "Borat" now. "My seester is number 2 or number 3 sex in mouth in all of Khazikstan..." Wow.
Sunday was all day frass. 'Bean was kind enough to cart my a$$ to the Depot to load up his loaner truck with mulch (Seriously? That thing is bigger than he is. I mean. He doesn't even come up to the cab) 2 trips. 36 bags. (20 for dad). 4 transplanted tree's. 50 feet of weed barrier. And 1 case of heat stroke. (So. I was hydrating myself. 6pm rolled around and I hit a wall, is all. Did you know when you get heat stroke that birds look like they are flying in slow motion?) We invited ourselves over to the WW ranch for some more float time b4 calling it a night.
Did I mention I finally drug my cottage cheese buns out to run? On Saturday. And Sunday. I am a machine. 100 above or 20 below...I'll f#ck up the mean streets of Nordeast.
Hoo. It was hotter'n a b#tch, though. Hope y'all stayed cool, my babies.
Bud
Anyone remember that Budweiser commercial from yeeeeears ago? It came out during the time when every director was having a blast messing with historical figures by creating dialogue for them and making their mouths move with it. (ala' "Forest Gump". Foreskin. Hump.)
Anyway, the punchline was Fidel Castro was making a speech and it was comic gold. It ended with Fidel doing this kind of shrug and saying "Fidellllll. Forgettaboutit".
My dad used to say that over and over again and crack himself up. Drove us nuts.
Anyway, the punchline was Fidel Castro was making a speech and it was comic gold. It ended with Fidel doing this kind of shrug and saying "Fidellllll. Forgettaboutit".
My dad used to say that over and over again and crack himself up. Drove us nuts.
Oh Raggedyman....
Y'know...
I like Mel Gibson a lot. I won't even lie to you. He's a man-crush I'm not ashamed of admitting to. (Or my love of big-'splosion-blow'em-up action movies either) I'll even go so far as saying that I like about 95% of his films. He was so frickin' cool in the "Lethal Weapon" franchise, and I even like part four for what it was worth. "The Passion". Labor of love. "Braveheart"? Doi. And it was only last year that I frassed with another actor on an overnight shoot about the "awesome" factor of "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome" ("We're quite a pair, Raggedyman") He's funny. Gives hilarious interviews. He's a good movie "runner". (I won't bore y'all with this, but seriously? Some motherfuckers look plain stupid when they run in the movies. Watch Steven Seagal. Guy runs like a retarded velociraptor.) So yeah. Mel. Go Mel.
But.
I'm reminded of the phrase an old co-worker told me. "You know something? 1 'Aw Shit' can obliterate 50 'Attaboys!' " I think we were talking about Clinton at the time.
Dude.
Dumba$$. We're all human and he had a relapse and he's experiencing remorse but still...
Dumba$$.
I like Mel Gibson a lot. I won't even lie to you. He's a man-crush I'm not ashamed of admitting to. (Or my love of big-'splosion-blow'em-up action movies either) I'll even go so far as saying that I like about 95% of his films. He was so frickin' cool in the "Lethal Weapon" franchise, and I even like part four for what it was worth. "The Passion". Labor of love. "Braveheart"? Doi. And it was only last year that I frassed with another actor on an overnight shoot about the "awesome" factor of "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome" ("We're quite a pair, Raggedyman") He's funny. Gives hilarious interviews. He's a good movie "runner". (I won't bore y'all with this, but seriously? Some motherfuckers look plain stupid when they run in the movies. Watch Steven Seagal. Guy runs like a retarded velociraptor.) So yeah. Mel. Go Mel.
But.
I'm reminded of the phrase an old co-worker told me. "You know something? 1 'Aw Shit' can obliterate 50 'Attaboys!' " I think we were talking about Clinton at the time.
Dude.
Dumba$$. We're all human and he had a relapse and he's experiencing remorse but still...
Dumba$$.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Losing track of time...
I had the best of intentions last night. So much to do, so much to do...
Mopes popped over for dinner b4 leaving for rehearsal at 7pm. After she split I figured I'd take a quick powerhouse nap before getting along with my business.
Big mistake. Let's see, she left at, ohhhhh 6:45-ish? I picked up my book and started to read when...that's all I remember.
I rolled over to look at the clock and it said "9:48pm" and it was pitch black in my room. Odd, I thought. I must have fidgeted with the buttons when I was sleeping. It's probably more like, ohhhh, 2:30 a.m. (See, my brain was processing the time like it was laaaaate, late late.) So I get up, use the biffy, and promptly plop back into bed.
To which I woke up again at approximately 3:00 a.m. What...the...f...?
And I was up. The rest of the night into morning. No amount of visualization/deep breathing/meditation was going to put me out. So I finished my book. Got up earlier so I could get my lunch ready. Showered. (The one thing I regret not doing before bed. I felt itchy when I woke up) And basically felt like a nincompoop for the weird insomnia...
I'm chalking it up to being sick. Or stressed. Or both. Boo.
Mopes popped over for dinner b4 leaving for rehearsal at 7pm. After she split I figured I'd take a quick powerhouse nap before getting along with my business.
Big mistake. Let's see, she left at, ohhhhh 6:45-ish? I picked up my book and started to read when...that's all I remember.
I rolled over to look at the clock and it said "9:48pm" and it was pitch black in my room. Odd, I thought. I must have fidgeted with the buttons when I was sleeping. It's probably more like, ohhhh, 2:30 a.m. (See, my brain was processing the time like it was laaaaate, late late.) So I get up, use the biffy, and promptly plop back into bed.
To which I woke up again at approximately 3:00 a.m. What...the...f...?
And I was up. The rest of the night into morning. No amount of visualization/deep breathing/meditation was going to put me out. So I finished my book. Got up earlier so I could get my lunch ready. Showered. (The one thing I regret not doing before bed. I felt itchy when I woke up) And basically felt like a nincompoop for the weird insomnia...
I'm chalking it up to being sick. Or stressed. Or both. Boo.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Burf...
I was at Walgreen's a couple of days ago and saw this by the front register:
http://www.stupid.com/stat/MRLW.html
Marshmallow burger? I nearly threw up in my mouth a little but 'cause I'm a curious cat I almost was tempted to buy one. Almost.
Cut to yesterday, in the Home Depot parking lot. And strewn haphazardly into the cart corral was a half-eaten one. It wasn't even half eaten. It was like, a bite was taken and thrown away. (I couldn't verify this by spying a "spit out" chunk, but you get the drift)
Next to "lil Chubs", Gas Station hot dogs, and shot gun jello? This has got to be the most retched looking food I've seen.
Burf
http://www.stupid.com/stat/MRLW.html
Marshmallow burger? I nearly threw up in my mouth a little but 'cause I'm a curious cat I almost was tempted to buy one. Almost.
Cut to yesterday, in the Home Depot parking lot. And strewn haphazardly into the cart corral was a half-eaten one. It wasn't even half eaten. It was like, a bite was taken and thrown away. (I couldn't verify this by spying a "spit out" chunk, but you get the drift)
Next to "lil Chubs", Gas Station hot dogs, and shot gun jello? This has got to be the most retched looking food I've seen.
Burf
Ouchable...
Sore. So sore. The mechanics of raising my legs to bring me up a flight of stairs is proving difficult. There is so much lactic acid burning in my quads, and my hammy's feel like stretched piano wire. This just isn't cool.
Friday night was a blast. Pepp's came over to finish Hari Kari Potter over some home made Thai. (Purposefully making additional servings so as to have left overs. Yeah, that happened)Then it was spitting the bit to Erte's lounge for cocktails and elbow rubbing with the brotherhood of evil actors. (I keed, I keed. Note to self: Self? When you've created an African interpretive dance to someone's nickname, they might not get it if you perform it in front of them. Cool?) The following Guthrie gala was pretty cool too, and MAN do they put out a spread- Had I not been so self-concious regarding our dinner earlier, I would have eaten my weight in sushi. (And it was nice that Matt and Carolton were there, since we had pretty much snuck in. OOOOO, Mr. Ari was there and get's mad props for his dirty joke telling abilities. Killed me.) So yeah. The space is cool. Very art deco. Mopes and I went around looking at the pics from productions past, enjoyed our free beverage, and called it a night. (Thanks, 'Bean, for letting me use your parking badge.)
Rehearsal for the Fringe nearly made me burst a vessel from laughter. I bid a fond farewell to Gabe-pril who's heading off to CA for film school. In a last minute moment of hatred, he managed to film my "audition". Which means I won't be surprised that if somewhere...down the road...there'll be a picture of me... singing in the Illusion theatre lobby...wearing only my underpants. Class Act, P. (Good luck Gabe. I hate you. I really, really, really do.)
After the briefest nap of naps, we took in "Bingo" where I was able to snag a polka with one of our seat mates. And oh do those sexy seniors know just what to say...Thanks for the free tix, Ry-gonn. You were, as always, HI-larious...but your wife is funnier. ; P
Which brings us to the soreness.
All. Day. Lawn frass. I dug holes, planted tree's, ripped up sod, made two-count'em 2 Depot visits, laid ground tarp, wood chips, lifted bricks, set bricks, brick a brack, frick and frack...
Yeah. I was a dirty, sweaty mess. It took a goodly amount of time to get the dirt out from under my fingie-nails. But it's done. Although I do have to dig up and re-plant my lilac (Neglected to read the instuctions "Plant in the sun". So I gotta move the shady lilac to the shady spot and the sunny lilac to the, oh you get the drill)
Oof. I hope to have a pretty yard. Someday. 'til then, I frass.
Friday night was a blast. Pepp's came over to finish Hari Kari Potter over some home made Thai. (Purposefully making additional servings so as to have left overs. Yeah, that happened)Then it was spitting the bit to Erte's lounge for cocktails and elbow rubbing with the brotherhood of evil actors. (I keed, I keed. Note to self: Self? When you've created an African interpretive dance to someone's nickname, they might not get it if you perform it in front of them. Cool?) The following Guthrie gala was pretty cool too, and MAN do they put out a spread- Had I not been so self-concious regarding our dinner earlier, I would have eaten my weight in sushi. (And it was nice that Matt and Carolton were there, since we had pretty much snuck in. OOOOO, Mr. Ari was there and get's mad props for his dirty joke telling abilities. Killed me.) So yeah. The space is cool. Very art deco. Mopes and I went around looking at the pics from productions past, enjoyed our free beverage, and called it a night. (Thanks, 'Bean, for letting me use your parking badge.)
Rehearsal for the Fringe nearly made me burst a vessel from laughter. I bid a fond farewell to Gabe-pril who's heading off to CA for film school. In a last minute moment of hatred, he managed to film my "audition". Which means I won't be surprised that if somewhere...down the road...there'll be a picture of me... singing in the Illusion theatre lobby...wearing only my underpants. Class Act, P. (Good luck Gabe. I hate you. I really, really, really do.)
After the briefest nap of naps, we took in "Bingo" where I was able to snag a polka with one of our seat mates. And oh do those sexy seniors know just what to say...Thanks for the free tix, Ry-gonn. You were, as always, HI-larious...but your wife is funnier. ; P
Which brings us to the soreness.
All. Day. Lawn frass. I dug holes, planted tree's, ripped up sod, made two-count'em 2 Depot visits, laid ground tarp, wood chips, lifted bricks, set bricks, brick a brack, frick and frack...
Yeah. I was a dirty, sweaty mess. It took a goodly amount of time to get the dirt out from under my fingie-nails. But it's done. Although I do have to dig up and re-plant my lilac (Neglected to read the instuctions "Plant in the sun". So I gotta move the shady lilac to the shady spot and the sunny lilac to the, oh you get the drill)
Oof. I hope to have a pretty yard. Someday. 'til then, I frass.
5 things5 Things always in my purse /briefcase:
1. Planner
2. Carmex
3. Pens
4. Work ID
5. Ibuprofen
5 Things always in my wallet:
1. Driver's license
2. Credit Cards
3. Phone # to audio blogger (Don’t ask)
4. Elvises DL5. Picture of my g-ma Rose
5 Things always in my refrigerator:
1. OJ
2. Egg Beaters
3. Wine
4. Vegetables
5. Fat Free Butter
5 Things always in my closet:
1. Coats
2. Shoes
3. Spider-Man Costume
4. Tuxedo’s
5. Board Games
5 Things always in my car:
1. Kleenex
2. Jumper Cables
3. Blanket
4. Hand Sanitizer
5. Karate Gear
Tag...you're it.
5 (or more) Things always on my desk: (at work)
1. PC
2. Change dish
3. Katana letter openers
4. Pics of family
5. lotion
6. Lots of "job aids"
7. Pens
1. Planner
2. Carmex
3. Pens
4. Work ID
5. Ibuprofen
5 Things always in my wallet:
1. Driver's license
2. Credit Cards
3. Phone # to audio blogger (Don’t ask)
4. Elvises DL5. Picture of my g-ma Rose
5 Things always in my refrigerator:
1. OJ
2. Egg Beaters
3. Wine
4. Vegetables
5. Fat Free Butter
5 Things always in my closet:
1. Coats
2. Shoes
3. Spider-Man Costume
4. Tuxedo’s
5. Board Games
5 Things always in my car:
1. Kleenex
2. Jumper Cables
3. Blanket
4. Hand Sanitizer
5. Karate Gear
Tag...you're it.
5 (or more) Things always on my desk: (at work)
1. PC
2. Change dish
3. Katana letter openers
4. Pics of family
5. lotion
6. Lots of "job aids"
7. Pens
Friday, July 21, 2006
Hmmmmm....
Dare I?
Wear all black tonight?
I very well may.
‘Cause that’s how I roll, Tootsie....
Big weekend, pampie-frassers.
Heute abend ‘Pepp’s is popping over to finish HP 4 and to nosh curried veggies mit rice. (I swear that I’m no addict) Then we spirit away to meet ‘Dino and Grimey to see how their radio debut went. (Which I should probably pimp: Listen tonight from 6-7pm on 107.1 "Undiscovered Diva’s" to hear them frass. If you like’em, vote at their website. I now return you to my regularly scheduled madness) Then we spirit squared because "Oops…sorry we can’t stay. You see we have a pair of super secret tickets to attend the Guthrie Opening Night Gala."
What’s that you say?
How...Baby P, pray tell, did you get in? How? Please...tell!
Did you "move heaven and earth" to get there? F#ck an usher? After hearing so much frass about how it's so important that you, as a working actor, need to capitalize on these opportunities...lest you not be taken seriously. How, for the love of GODDESS did you manage to get into the opening-night-gala of the illustrious "Ikea on the River"...instead of, say, washing your hair? Did you ssssseeeellll your ssssooooulllll?
Fuck no.
Roommie has a part time gig working in sales at the new G. The funny thing is, I’d actually forgotten that he even invited me until I ran into him this morning. I know, I know...sarcasm aside. I’m a bad actor. And a bad schmoozer. I won't leave your side, sploosher.
Sats I was thinking about MOA-ing for that Renny Renny Buck Buck preview, but then remembered "Fuck…I have fringe-hearsal" and later that night I believe Ry-gonn hooked me up w/comps to "We Gotta P0rn0"…(If you read this, break a leg buddy)
Sunday? 100% pure frass. Landscaping…and if the weather holds I’m gonna try my hand at cement mixing. We’ll see. Hoooooo Boy we’ll see.
Have a good weekend ladeez and gents. Relax if you can…I won’t be.
> : (
ps: Please tell me y'all are doing something more fun?
Wear all black tonight?
I very well may.
‘Cause that’s how I roll, Tootsie....
Big weekend, pampie-frassers.
Heute abend ‘Pepp’s is popping over to finish HP 4 and to nosh curried veggies mit rice. (I swear that I’m no addict) Then we spirit away to meet ‘Dino and Grimey to see how their radio debut went. (Which I should probably pimp: Listen tonight from 6-7pm on 107.1 "Undiscovered Diva’s" to hear them frass. If you like’em, vote at their website. I now return you to my regularly scheduled madness) Then we spirit squared because "Oops…sorry we can’t stay. You see we have a pair of super secret tickets to attend the Guthrie Opening Night Gala."
What’s that you say?
How...Baby P, pray tell, did you get in? How? Please...tell!
Did you "move heaven and earth" to get there? F#ck an usher? After hearing so much frass about how it's so important that you, as a working actor, need to capitalize on these opportunities...lest you not be taken seriously. How, for the love of GODDESS did you manage to get into the opening-night-gala of the illustrious "Ikea on the River"...instead of, say, washing your hair? Did you ssssseeeellll your ssssooooulllll?
Fuck no.
Roommie has a part time gig working in sales at the new G. The funny thing is, I’d actually forgotten that he even invited me until I ran into him this morning. I know, I know...sarcasm aside. I’m a bad actor. And a bad schmoozer. I won't leave your side, sploosher.
Sats I was thinking about MOA-ing for that Renny Renny Buck Buck preview, but then remembered "Fuck…I have fringe-hearsal" and later that night I believe Ry-gonn hooked me up w/comps to "We Gotta P0rn0"…(If you read this, break a leg buddy)
Sunday? 100% pure frass. Landscaping…and if the weather holds I’m gonna try my hand at cement mixing. We’ll see. Hoooooo Boy we’ll see.
Have a good weekend ladeez and gents. Relax if you can…I won’t be.
> : (
ps: Please tell me y'all are doing something more fun?
Kiped from Portana...a "Blue" list! (Real answers at the bottom)
1-Had sex with someone ten years older or younger than you? Hell no. 35 to 40 years…yowza. Love me them sexy seniors. Grrrrrowlza!*
2-Drawn from a nude model? I’ve "With"drawn from a nude model, but only because they were holding a gun at me. Hey, I didn’t know that when the robe comes off it wasn’t an open invitation to HEY OHHHH!**
3-Had sex at a company Christmas party? If by sex you mean "Got tipsy and made an ass of myself" then yes. ***
4-Had a blind date? Yup. Deaf too. (And here, RSvP is where we insert the awful HK jokes) ****
5-Slept with a teacher? Hell no! I went straight for the Superintendent! Go big or go home, I say. *****
Bonus (as in optional): had sex with someone within an hour of meeting them? Yeah, but it’ll probably never happen again. It's too cost prohibitive. Fast-Acting roofies are 3 x’s more expensive than the regular ones.******
* Had a close call once- After sharing a pitcher of IPA with a friend I was solicited at Prestons by a woman who was, I think, 21 or 22 years older than I? (I was 23 at the time) I just remember standing up and getting ready to leave with her when my friend hooked his thumb in my back belt loop and said: "No dude. No."
**Ugh. I had an ex draw a picture of me nude. I didn't pose for it, Ya perv's, and I remember that she was very proud that she drew it from memory. (Short memory...cough cough). I’ve contemplated painting a nude female silhouette picture for that antique Dykeman Frame to hang in my house, though. Don’t ask. The nude feminine form in art fascinates me in a big bad way.
***Most of the companies I’ve worked with have never had X-mas parties. Maybe if you count the Theatre X-mas party…where I got chummy with a gal. I mean, not at the party but several months later. I need time to build up my old cheap moves, you know?
****I frassed about this one. It was really on a whim, and it was the roommate of a girl my big brother was dating circa 1994. Really cool girl, name of Mo. (Funny, right?) Had a great day. Great date. And never saw/spoke to her again. And I guess technically I went out with someone last January on a whim and it felt very "datish"…same deal though. My track record with blind dates isn’t so good. I’ll stick to the seeing eye dates from here on out, thanks.
*****Too weird. Although I told Moseph’s that her friend (And former HS english teacher) buddy Leynie would definitely have been crushworthy in high school.
******Seriously now. My all new old cheap moves take years of planning, and months to implement. It would take a woman at LEAST an hour to make the determination that I’m not completely psychotic. Just mostly to partly psychotic with a chance of afternoon showers.
1-Had sex with someone ten years older or younger than you? Hell no. 35 to 40 years…yowza. Love me them sexy seniors. Grrrrrowlza!*
2-Drawn from a nude model? I’ve "With"drawn from a nude model, but only because they were holding a gun at me. Hey, I didn’t know that when the robe comes off it wasn’t an open invitation to HEY OHHHH!**
3-Had sex at a company Christmas party? If by sex you mean "Got tipsy and made an ass of myself" then yes. ***
4-Had a blind date? Yup. Deaf too. (And here, RSvP is where we insert the awful HK jokes) ****
5-Slept with a teacher? Hell no! I went straight for the Superintendent! Go big or go home, I say. *****
Bonus (as in optional): had sex with someone within an hour of meeting them? Yeah, but it’ll probably never happen again. It's too cost prohibitive. Fast-Acting roofies are 3 x’s more expensive than the regular ones.******
* Had a close call once- After sharing a pitcher of IPA with a friend I was solicited at Prestons by a woman who was, I think, 21 or 22 years older than I? (I was 23 at the time) I just remember standing up and getting ready to leave with her when my friend hooked his thumb in my back belt loop and said: "No dude. No."
**Ugh. I had an ex draw a picture of me nude. I didn't pose for it, Ya perv's, and I remember that she was very proud that she drew it from memory. (Short memory...cough cough). I’ve contemplated painting a nude female silhouette picture for that antique Dykeman Frame to hang in my house, though. Don’t ask. The nude feminine form in art fascinates me in a big bad way.
***Most of the companies I’ve worked with have never had X-mas parties. Maybe if you count the Theatre X-mas party…where I got chummy with a gal. I mean, not at the party but several months later. I need time to build up my old cheap moves, you know?
****I frassed about this one. It was really on a whim, and it was the roommate of a girl my big brother was dating circa 1994. Really cool girl, name of Mo. (Funny, right?) Had a great day. Great date. And never saw/spoke to her again. And I guess technically I went out with someone last January on a whim and it felt very "datish"…same deal though. My track record with blind dates isn’t so good. I’ll stick to the seeing eye dates from here on out, thanks.
*****Too weird. Although I told Moseph’s that her friend (And former HS english teacher) buddy Leynie would definitely have been crushworthy in high school.
******Seriously now. My all new old cheap moves take years of planning, and months to implement. It would take a woman at LEAST an hour to make the determination that I’m not completely psychotic. Just mostly to partly psychotic with a chance of afternoon showers.
Kiped from Portana...a "Blue" list! (Real answers at the bottom)
1-Had sex with someone ten years older or younger than you? Hell no. 35 to 40 years…yowza. Love me them sexy seniors. Grrrrrowlza!*
2-Drawn from a nude model? I’ve "With"drawn from a nude model, but only because they were holding a gun at me. Hey, I didn’t know that when the robe comes off it wasn’t an open invitation to HEY OHHHH!**
3-Had sex at a company Christmas party? If by sex you mean "Got tipsy and made an ass of myself" then yes. ***
4-Had a blind date? Yup. Deaf too. (And here, RSvP is where we insert the awful HK jokes) ****
5-Slept with a teacher? Hell no! I went straight for the Superintendent! Go big or go home, I say. *****
Bonus (as in optional): had sex with someone within an hour of meeting them? Yeah, but it’ll probably never happen again. Fast-Acting roofies are 3 x’s more costly than the regular ones.******
* Close call- I was stopped after sharing a pitcher of IPA with a friend when I was solicited in a bar. I think she was 21 or 22 years older than I was? I just remember standing up, getting ready to leave with her when my friend hooked his thumb in my back belt loop and said: "No dude. No."
**Ugh. I had an ex draw me nude. Never posed, but she was very proud of it nevertheless. I’ve contemplated painting a nude female silhouette picture for that antique Dykeman Frame. Don’t ask. The nude feminine form in art fascinates me in a big bad way. Chill, pervo’s
***Most of the companies I’ve worked with have never had X-mas parties. If you count the Theatre X-mas party…um, I got chummy with a gal. I mean, not at the party but …later. I need time to build up my old cheap moves, you know?
****I frassed about this one. It was really on a whim, and it was the roommate of a girl my big brother was dating circa 1994. Really cool girl, name of Mo. (Funny, right?) Had a great day. Great date. And never saw/spoke to her again. And I guess technically I went out with someone last January on a whim and it felt very "datish"…same deal though. My track record with blind dates isn’t so good. I’ll stick to the seeing eye dates from here on out, thanks.
*****Too weird. Although I told Moseph’s that her friend (And former HS english teacher) buddy Leynie would definitely have been crushworthy in high school.
******Seriously now. My all new old cheap moves take years of planning, and months to implement. It would take a woman at LEAST an hour to make the determination that I’m not completely psychotic. Just mostly to partly psychotic with a chance of afternoon showers.
1-Had sex with someone ten years older or younger than you? Hell no. 35 to 40 years…yowza. Love me them sexy seniors. Grrrrrowlza!*
2-Drawn from a nude model? I’ve "With"drawn from a nude model, but only because they were holding a gun at me. Hey, I didn’t know that when the robe comes off it wasn’t an open invitation to HEY OHHHH!**
3-Had sex at a company Christmas party? If by sex you mean "Got tipsy and made an ass of myself" then yes. ***
4-Had a blind date? Yup. Deaf too. (And here, RSvP is where we insert the awful HK jokes) ****
5-Slept with a teacher? Hell no! I went straight for the Superintendent! Go big or go home, I say. *****
Bonus (as in optional): had sex with someone within an hour of meeting them? Yeah, but it’ll probably never happen again. Fast-Acting roofies are 3 x’s more costly than the regular ones.******
* Close call- I was stopped after sharing a pitcher of IPA with a friend when I was solicited in a bar. I think she was 21 or 22 years older than I was? I just remember standing up, getting ready to leave with her when my friend hooked his thumb in my back belt loop and said: "No dude. No."
**Ugh. I had an ex draw me nude. Never posed, but she was very proud of it nevertheless. I’ve contemplated painting a nude female silhouette picture for that antique Dykeman Frame. Don’t ask. The nude feminine form in art fascinates me in a big bad way. Chill, pervo’s
***Most of the companies I’ve worked with have never had X-mas parties. If you count the Theatre X-mas party…um, I got chummy with a gal. I mean, not at the party but …later. I need time to build up my old cheap moves, you know?
****I frassed about this one. It was really on a whim, and it was the roommate of a girl my big brother was dating circa 1994. Really cool girl, name of Mo. (Funny, right?) Had a great day. Great date. And never saw/spoke to her again. And I guess technically I went out with someone last January on a whim and it felt very "datish"…same deal though. My track record with blind dates isn’t so good. I’ll stick to the seeing eye dates from here on out, thanks.
*****Too weird. Although I told Moseph’s that her friend (And former HS english teacher) buddy Leynie would definitely have been crushworthy in high school.
******Seriously now. My all new old cheap moves take years of planning, and months to implement. It would take a woman at LEAST an hour to make the determination that I’m not completely psychotic. Just mostly to partly psychotic with a chance of afternoon showers.
He just gets weirder with age.
So I've, uh...taken to a new habit at work. "Breaking up with people to get my way".
Guys.
Girls. It doesn't matter. It's actually kind of cathartic.
Example Pample:
Baby P: "Hey! Someone brought in Trail Mix! Sweet!"
Co-worker Ali: "Ick. I don't like trail mix..."
P: (Throwing arms up incredulously) "Whaaaaat? How can you NOT like trail mix?"
Ali: "It has raisin's in it, and I don't like raisins"
P: (Fighting the urge to fit a "Better off Dead" quote in the conversation.) "No? What about grapes?"
Ali: "Nope. Sorry. Don't like those much either"
P: "Well. I. Just. That's it, Ali. We're done. I'm breaking up with you..." (P storms off. Ali laughs...rather confused)
Guys.
Girls. It doesn't matter. It's actually kind of cathartic.
Example Pample:
Baby P: "Hey! Someone brought in Trail Mix! Sweet!"
Co-worker Ali: "Ick. I don't like trail mix..."
P: (Throwing arms up incredulously) "Whaaaaat? How can you NOT like trail mix?"
Ali: "It has raisin's in it, and I don't like raisins"
P: (Fighting the urge to fit a "Better off Dead" quote in the conversation.) "No? What about grapes?"
Ali: "Nope. Sorry. Don't like those much either"
P: "Well. I. Just. That's it, Ali. We're done. I'm breaking up with you..." (P storms off. Ali laughs...rather confused)
Quick Congrats!
To my friends American Eitel and his Weefy "The A$$ Grabber" who welcomed their newest addition Noah on 7/20/06. Tinaynay? Have a beer, darlin'. It feels like you've been pregnant for almost 2 years.
; )
; )
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Turning the mundane, into frass...
A bulleted evening, by your truly-
-Came home from work. Ran upstairs to clean the remaining glass.
-Instead of automatically turning on my PC (to check p0rn...I mean email), I decided to do my vaccuuming first. (I'm a thinker. Thought I might blow a fuse)
-Got the glass cleaned up. (Did I mention I have an unnatural fear of broken glass? I hate it. Makes my short hairs cringe)
-Then turned on the fan and my PC.
-Just started in on my emails when I heard a loud BANG! which I thought came from inside the house. The PC and my fan shut off. Then come back on a moment later.
-I get up to start my way downstairs to see if it did, indeed, come from inside. Georgie-kitty meets me in the stairwell.
-"BANG" number two happens. Power goes out completely. Nada. Georgie scramble-frasses into 'Bean's room, schnell.
-Still unconvinced that it didn't come from inside my house, I head down to the basement.
-Oblivious to my own stupidity, I try the lights.
-I stumble-frass to the basement, checking the fuse box. I try flipping the main, splitting my thumbnail in the process. I start bleeding.
-Heading upstairs, I try making a decision as to whether or not it's worth my time to move perishables to the freezer in the interim. I'm convinced, CONVINCED that whatever happened to the power it will self-correct.
-I pour a glass of wine. The one perishible I'm certain will spoil before the situation get's rectified within 5 minutes.
-Still not sure it isn't "just my house", I head outside.
-I see all the other Nordeast prairie dogs heading outside looking bewildered. Baby P breathes a sigh of relief.
-Trying to do my best "Omega Man" impression, I throw my arms up in the air, fall to my knee's, and cry "Noooooooooooo!"
-Cement is not comfortable on the knee's. The Somali family across the street stares and shakes their collective heads.
-Half my wine spilled out of my glass doing that little stunt. Alcohol abuse, right there.
-I text Redwright, Mopes, and the 'Bean furiously to inform them of recent tragic current events.
-Heading inside, happy in my knowledge that it isn't just me, I figure I need to make some decisions. Jog? Nap? Call ExCel? I remember dad saying that ExCel will charge you for even making a phone call. So "No" to that. The torrential downpour that starts up again 86's the joglet.
-Quick phone calls from Redwright and 'Peppa.
-In the kitchen, I stare...sadly...at the Boca burger I was going to have for dinner. I munch chips.
-Following the only logical path in the absence of technology, I go upstairs, grab a book, read, then start to nap.
-Power comes back on 20 minutes after it original shut down. My perishables are safe.
Epic. But it doesn't beat the time last year when that mini-nado swept through the Schwinn Titties...knocking out power overnight. When it was a bajillion degree's in my house. And I pretty much spent the evening "in the buck" with candles everywhere. Cops might have thought I was performing a sacrifice or something.
-Came home from work. Ran upstairs to clean the remaining glass.
-Instead of automatically turning on my PC (to check p0rn...I mean email), I decided to do my vaccuuming first. (I'm a thinker. Thought I might blow a fuse)
-Got the glass cleaned up. (Did I mention I have an unnatural fear of broken glass? I hate it. Makes my short hairs cringe)
-Then turned on the fan and my PC.
-Just started in on my emails when I heard a loud BANG! which I thought came from inside the house. The PC and my fan shut off. Then come back on a moment later.
-I get up to start my way downstairs to see if it did, indeed, come from inside. Georgie-kitty meets me in the stairwell.
-"BANG" number two happens. Power goes out completely. Nada. Georgie scramble-frasses into 'Bean's room, schnell.
-Still unconvinced that it didn't come from inside my house, I head down to the basement.
-Oblivious to my own stupidity, I try the lights.
-I stumble-frass to the basement, checking the fuse box. I try flipping the main, splitting my thumbnail in the process. I start bleeding.
-Heading upstairs, I try making a decision as to whether or not it's worth my time to move perishables to the freezer in the interim. I'm convinced, CONVINCED that whatever happened to the power it will self-correct.
-I pour a glass of wine. The one perishible I'm certain will spoil before the situation get's rectified within 5 minutes.
-Still not sure it isn't "just my house", I head outside.
-I see all the other Nordeast prairie dogs heading outside looking bewildered. Baby P breathes a sigh of relief.
-Trying to do my best "Omega Man" impression, I throw my arms up in the air, fall to my knee's, and cry "Noooooooooooo!"
-Cement is not comfortable on the knee's. The Somali family across the street stares and shakes their collective heads.
-Half my wine spilled out of my glass doing that little stunt. Alcohol abuse, right there.
-I text Redwright, Mopes, and the 'Bean furiously to inform them of recent tragic current events.
-Heading inside, happy in my knowledge that it isn't just me, I figure I need to make some decisions. Jog? Nap? Call ExCel? I remember dad saying that ExCel will charge you for even making a phone call. So "No" to that. The torrential downpour that starts up again 86's the joglet.
-Quick phone calls from Redwright and 'Peppa.
-In the kitchen, I stare...sadly...at the Boca burger I was going to have for dinner. I munch chips.
-Following the only logical path in the absence of technology, I go upstairs, grab a book, read, then start to nap.
-Power comes back on 20 minutes after it original shut down. My perishables are safe.
Epic. But it doesn't beat the time last year when that mini-nado swept through the Schwinn Titties...knocking out power overnight. When it was a bajillion degree's in my house. And I pretty much spent the evening "in the buck" with candles everywhere. Cops might have thought I was performing a sacrifice or something.
I'm a danger to myself...
So my sleep patterns are fooked. I don't know why. Whether it's clenching my jaw in my sleep 'til my mouth is sore the next day, having fooked up dreams about beetles, or giant snakes, smacking 'Peppa in the middle of the night, making snow angels with the quilt, sleeping through torrential hurricanes.
Weird.
The topper has got to be the other evening. I get up for a 3 a.m. bladder evac, reach over for the glass of water I'd brought up before beddy-bye when (swoop. Mimes hand going through thin air.) nada. "Where'd my water go?"...methoughts. I turn on the lamp, and there...all over the floor...is broken glass.
What. The. Fuck?
So I begin the sleepy process of cleaning up the fenster shards all over the ground/rug, (Love that hardwood.) leaving the miniscule pieces for when there is more daylight.
'Bean comes upstairs last night before I hit the hay again and asks "Did you hear that loud loud crash last night? I could have swore someone was breaking in the house. I even got up and went all around with the lights on seeing if any windows were busted it was that loud!"
I smiled at him. Then held up and shook my plastic one litre water bottle in his direction.
"Guilty"
Weird.
The topper has got to be the other evening. I get up for a 3 a.m. bladder evac, reach over for the glass of water I'd brought up before beddy-bye when (swoop. Mimes hand going through thin air.) nada. "Where'd my water go?"...methoughts. I turn on the lamp, and there...all over the floor...is broken glass.
What. The. Fuck?
So I begin the sleepy process of cleaning up the fenster shards all over the ground/rug, (Love that hardwood.) leaving the miniscule pieces for when there is more daylight.
'Bean comes upstairs last night before I hit the hay again and asks "Did you hear that loud loud crash last night? I could have swore someone was breaking in the house. I even got up and went all around with the lights on seeing if any windows were busted it was that loud!"
I smiled at him. Then held up and shook my plastic one litre water bottle in his direction.
"Guilty"
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Weird spam...
So this was in my work inbox. 'Pepp's believes that it is clearly an ad for a peni$ pump, but I think it may very well have shades of something more...sinister? Discuss, or use it to create your own masterpiece.
" largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the dwarves,
but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat
and strong again. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted"
What the heck does this mean, Corky?
" largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the dwarves,
but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat
and strong again. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted"
What the heck does this mean, Corky?
Seemed like a good idea at the time...
I thought I'd have a pithy/intelligent review today about "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" but our plans were thwarted by the onset of (A) The fact that the show was sold out when we got there and (B) Chino's Happy Hour is indeed the bomb-shite. ($2 glasses of house white? Are you serious? $4 sushi? For serial?)
So I'll give you some week-old frass that I shoulda gone into last Wednesday: "I am My Own Wife" at the Jungle.
It was pretty amazing.
What works:
The story. It seems like such a weirdly simple premise: "Transvestite spends his life dressed as a woman, survives WW2 AND living inside East Berlin during the Cold War-avoiding persecution the entire time. "
But the way it gets played out is both fascinating and compelling. Couple this with B.G. playing multiple characters. I entered the show not a big fan of "one-person shows" (Not the best for the ADD addled. Hard to follow) but this guy is a RI-diculously talented performer. His embodiment of Charlotte, the interviewer, and so many of the characters was exquisite.
The bad?
Not much to say. While the story is fascinating, I thought the way the narrative was strung together was a little (just a little) weak. Sometimes even disjointed. That, outside of one of his characters being quite a bit weaker than the rest, this show is a much see. Check it out if you can.
So I'll give you some week-old frass that I shoulda gone into last Wednesday: "I am My Own Wife" at the Jungle.
It was pretty amazing.
What works:
The story. It seems like such a weirdly simple premise: "Transvestite spends his life dressed as a woman, survives WW2 AND living inside East Berlin during the Cold War-avoiding persecution the entire time. "
But the way it gets played out is both fascinating and compelling. Couple this with B.G. playing multiple characters. I entered the show not a big fan of "one-person shows" (Not the best for the ADD addled. Hard to follow) but this guy is a RI-diculously talented performer. His embodiment of Charlotte, the interviewer, and so many of the characters was exquisite.
The bad?
Not much to say. While the story is fascinating, I thought the way the narrative was strung together was a little (just a little) weak. Sometimes even disjointed. That, outside of one of his characters being quite a bit weaker than the rest, this show is a much see. Check it out if you can.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Mmmmm Listy
1. Worst damage you ever took in a fight? Bruised rib. Wind knocked out. Broken/Bloodied nose. Choked til tap out. Nougies kicked. (Here's an image. Baby Boy sitting on his couch with frozen peas over his tender bits.)
2. Most money you ever owed a utility company? Well...when the old roomie left I was in the hock until I could get caught up. Let's just say I'm happy I'm on the energy saver plan.
3. Last time you got kicked out of a bar? The 90's wouldn't let me in back in January stating I was visibly intoxicated. Problematic, to be sure. However (1) The whole point of my going in the frassin' bar was for a cheap drunk and (2) This is the 90's, right? I mean, don't they want drunk boys to float around?
4. Longest time you slept in a car? I passed out in my car when I was in college. I don't know how long, but I was covered in frost.
5. Most f*d up nickname you've ever been given? Massa. Ish. "Doc". (Why? Oh, right. My initials. Original) "Grower". "Pasty".
6. Worst job you ever had? Shilling tuxes rates up there. I've had some bad gigs too.
7. Shortest job you've ever had? Contract day gigs. I was in a live industrial where I was onstage for (literally) 3 minutes, and I still got paid the same $ as the other actors who had to be there for 3 hours. Boo. Yah.
8. Longest romantic relationship? 3.5 years
10. Food that you would eat till you puked? Sushi. Seafood. Seasoned French Fries.
11. Food that even looking at makes you puke? Monster Thickburger or the Ginormous Meatwich.
12. What music saved your life? MPR. Just, MPR.
13. Person you miss the most in the world? Kinda wish J-bird was in town.
14. Worst movie you've ever seen? Yeah. Um, since I was with her and the crew when they saw it, I'm gonna say "Ultra Violet" too. Shit-Tastic.
15. Best movie you've ever seen? "Waiting for Guffman" or "Princess Bride". Classics.
16. Craziest stuff you've ever done sober? A lot. A lot a lot. I'm bonkers, honkers.
17. Ever almost die? Repeatedly. 1977, 1989, 1999, 2000.
18. Ever fistfight a member of the opposite sex? Yup.
19. Best place you have ever lived? Nordeast Mipples.
20. Worst place you have ever lived? Medora, NoDak.
21. Bad habit you have. I swear an awful lot.
22. Noise that makes you want to punch people? Kids screaming. Adults Frassin'. So many. Blessed is silence.
23. Your favorite tattoo? Herve' Villachez
24. Least favorite tattoo? Anyone who has a swastika
25. At your poorest, were you a ramen noodle or Mac and cheese aficionado? Ramen. Even though I'm still pretty debt addled, I'd rather pony up and get some Creamette Pasta with meatless pasghetti sauce.
26. Most money you have ever spent on a single meal? I imagine the 5-course dinner I had last fall in Boston (And the..ahem...refillable glass of chard that showed up every time I blinked) was prolly pretty pricey. But oh so good.
27. Best gift you ever got? Oh...many.
28. Best pet you ever had? I love my Georgie Kitty. (The ferrets were technically RSvP's, but we liked them anyway)
29. Ever run from the cops? Yup. Apparently we weren't supposed to be partying on the jungle gym at 1am while drinking. Funny enough, they were there to find out if it was my car that was sitting on the side street with the door wide open. (It was)
30. Money or love? Love-Money
2. Most money you ever owed a utility company? Well...when the old roomie left I was in the hock until I could get caught up. Let's just say I'm happy I'm on the energy saver plan.
3. Last time you got kicked out of a bar? The 90's wouldn't let me in back in January stating I was visibly intoxicated. Problematic, to be sure. However (1) The whole point of my going in the frassin' bar was for a cheap drunk and (2) This is the 90's, right? I mean, don't they want drunk boys to float around?
4. Longest time you slept in a car? I passed out in my car when I was in college. I don't know how long, but I was covered in frost.
5. Most f*d up nickname you've ever been given? Massa. Ish. "Doc". (Why? Oh, right. My initials. Original) "Grower". "Pasty".
6. Worst job you ever had? Shilling tuxes rates up there. I've had some bad gigs too.
7. Shortest job you've ever had? Contract day gigs. I was in a live industrial where I was onstage for (literally) 3 minutes, and I still got paid the same $ as the other actors who had to be there for 3 hours. Boo. Yah.
8. Longest romantic relationship? 3.5 years
10. Food that you would eat till you puked? Sushi. Seafood. Seasoned French Fries.
11. Food that even looking at makes you puke? Monster Thickburger or the Ginormous Meatwich.
12. What music saved your life? MPR. Just, MPR.
13. Person you miss the most in the world? Kinda wish J-bird was in town.
14. Worst movie you've ever seen? Yeah. Um, since I was with her and the crew when they saw it, I'm gonna say "Ultra Violet" too. Shit-Tastic.
15. Best movie you've ever seen? "Waiting for Guffman" or "Princess Bride". Classics.
16. Craziest stuff you've ever done sober? A lot. A lot a lot. I'm bonkers, honkers.
17. Ever almost die? Repeatedly. 1977, 1989, 1999, 2000.
18. Ever fistfight a member of the opposite sex? Yup.
19. Best place you have ever lived? Nordeast Mipples.
20. Worst place you have ever lived? Medora, NoDak.
21. Bad habit you have. I swear an awful lot.
22. Noise that makes you want to punch people? Kids screaming. Adults Frassin'. So many. Blessed is silence.
23. Your favorite tattoo? Herve' Villachez
24. Least favorite tattoo? Anyone who has a swastika
25. At your poorest, were you a ramen noodle or Mac and cheese aficionado? Ramen. Even though I'm still pretty debt addled, I'd rather pony up and get some Creamette Pasta with meatless pasghetti sauce.
26. Most money you have ever spent on a single meal? I imagine the 5-course dinner I had last fall in Boston (And the..ahem...refillable glass of chard that showed up every time I blinked) was prolly pretty pricey. But oh so good.
27. Best gift you ever got? Oh...many.
28. Best pet you ever had? I love my Georgie Kitty. (The ferrets were technically RSvP's, but we liked them anyway)
29. Ever run from the cops? Yup. Apparently we weren't supposed to be partying on the jungle gym at 1am while drinking. Funny enough, they were there to find out if it was my car that was sitting on the side street with the door wide open. (It was)
30. Money or love? Love-Money
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