Pip Pip...REVIEW'D

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks, Chowie...

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

Hooked on Cracked, and other meanderings...

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

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

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

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

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

So what DID you do?

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

Nothing. Not a damn thing.

Well that's not entirely true:

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

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

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

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

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

I'm a boring bunk.

And Ode to BJ's and Pants...

Not thaaaat kinda BJ, ya preev's.

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

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

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

Eep.

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

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

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

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

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

Food Reviews

Ahem-

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

Ahem squared-

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

The I.V's

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After party-

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


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

Got a big hug from Shelbs. Love.

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

One ex siting. ( We kept our distance)

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

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

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

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

That's it.

Whadda Weekend...

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wanna be this guy

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

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

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

Then to watch this...

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



Ho. Lee. Shite.

A few things...

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

Scratch that.

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

Right?

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

Shit.

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

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


Thank You.

Bad Covers

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

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

Did I read this right?

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

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


For your pleasure.

I confess...movie style

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

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

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

Oh God...Even funnier...

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

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


Clooney's bat nipples assist with bat lactation.

Too...Funny

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

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


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

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


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

Oh dear...

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

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

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

Come again?

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


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

Ohhhhh. Kay.

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

Karma?

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

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

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

No worries.

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

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

He thanks me and goes back in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home

Safe, thankyouverymuch...


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

Of note:

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

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

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

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

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


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

Later, yo...

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


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


wOOt!!!


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

GO!!!

Drama at the Fair...

Oh. The State. Fair.

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

Well...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey last straw. How ya doin?

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

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

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

(Sighs)

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

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

The end.

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

I don't think so.

Really a nice weekend

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

Last weekend? Pip to the Pip:

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

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

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

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

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

That's the next blog...

A telegram to the weather

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


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

The open letter:

Rain,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Not cool, Rain. Not. Cool.

Aquaman runs from the po-po

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


Dumbass.

Creepy

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

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

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

Yeah.

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

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

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



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

Frass.

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

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


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

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



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

Those kyoshoshinkai f#ckers are NUTS!!!

This'll be more fun, I swear

Fringe closing night gala photo's- Here:

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


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


Thanks for driving, loverpants.

Funk...

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

Story time:

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Bring it on, mama.

Sorry.

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

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

Gonna make you sweat-TAH!!!

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

Teh suck.

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

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

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

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

And I got skeered. Cancer? Hyperthyroidism?

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

And headache.

And a weird feeling of dizziness. Occasionally.

G#d Dammit

Safe

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

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

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

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

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


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

Take care, be safe, and be well.

I'm gonna bet...

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

I had some s#it to say, yo.

xo

Double Feature, Creature's...

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


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

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

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

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

End rant.

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

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

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

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

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

Harley Pit-stain and the Breathy Swallows

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

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

My. What a difference two years makes.

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

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

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

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


See you around, Harry.

Shoot me!

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

Oooooookay.

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

You get the point.

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

I'm a doof.

Burned!

Go here:

http://www.welchmillcanoeandtube.com/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ketchup.

Okay.


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

Sue me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Cool.

Flat bread weekend, or "My Tortilla Days and Nights"

It happened, yet again-In bed last night at 11:30. No sleep. At all. Toss and turn and cover head, cover body, sweat, awake. Frass online. Back in bed. Repeat. I blame the bean burrito's I made after softball, but man. Show some food restraint, kiddo. Please.

Speaking of burrito's, this was the weekend of the tortilla. Friday, before "Triple Esfrasso" Moses and I hit Pancho Villa's to share fajita's and margie's. The show was great. I haven't laughed that hard at a theatrical show since probably "Flaming Guns". (Weird. Out of all the theatre I've seen in Minneapolis and after catching show's at every major venue- The Music Box was one I'd never patronized. Bad Minnesotan) Afterwards we stayed up and had a cocktail across the street @ the Market before heading home and passing out.

Which would be the only good sleep I got all weekend.

Caturday I spent working out, cleaning the house. Went over to Mo's for dinner (Free Chipotle. Tortilla number TWO) napped. We split so she could meet buddies for a housewarming and I went home and waited for my friend Ryan to call so we could hit one of my old friends bachelor parties down town. Got home around 1:40 and did the old tossing and turning thing until 5:30.

Sunds was spent making runs to the grocery store, making a breakfast burrito thingie (Making it tortilla # Three) Home Depot run (Bought a ton of perrennial's: Asiatic's, Daisies, etc) More hosta goodness, and the beginnings of the 100 odd pavers I'm fixing to lay down to landscape the backyard. I'm still needing to finish painting the Southside of the garage so I don't get fined.

It's late, and softball is coming up soon so I go in and fix a tequila lime grilled chicken avocado wrap for dinner (#4). Incidently, I sucked and had entered the game under the false presumption that I could just go in and play and do all right. Not so much. Embarrassed myself, I did. Wiffed all my at bats. I should just stick with T-Ball. Or not volunteering to scab for a team that already works well together as a unit. Grump.

So I went home and watched the end of "First Blood" and fast forwarded through"The Matrix" whilst munching two bean burrito's to drown my sorrow (#'s Five and Six) . I ended up with a full beany tummy, then went to bed and engaged in the aforementioned fitful tossy turnies.

So that's that.

Tonight I go home and maybe nap. I need one. I feel more out of it than normal. I get to hit a PWYC performance of "Our Town". Hopefully get the sleep I need.

And I was fresh outta Ny-Quil too. Boo.

Happiest of Happy's!!!

To big bro' RSvP!!! The new daddy-o is celebrating the 13th anniversary of his 21st Birthday, and to celebrate I'm skipping out early to have a lil' lunchable's with him. No embarrassing stories will accompany today's happy blog, although the other day when I was driving home from work I remembered the time he got run over by a bus...


That'll bake your noodle, won't it? "What??? The master ninja was attacked by a deadly ninja school bus? Say it ain't so?!?!?!" Nope. True story. This was before his training, you see. Nowaday's, those school buses wouldn't stand a chance. Hiiiiii KEEBA!!!

Other famous Cancer-ites sharing their b'day's with big brother include Picard, Han Solo, and the dude that directed "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", and my buddy KH. (Happy birthday, gorgeous)


So shout out, email, call, frass and wish the bestest role model you could ask for a happy birthday!!!

Two to grow on:

First, this represents one side of the two sided shelf which housed the sauces that were Heiss. Note the "Danger" sign. I opted for one of the few sauces that didn't have a warning label requesting that you make sure it doesn't come in contact with your skin. The way I see it, if it's so hot that it diminishes the flavor? The sauce is useless, and you wind up loosing the feeling in your mouth. And that's if you're lucky. Recall the story of my buddy Adam, who topped his steak dish at El Meson with "Ass in the Tub Hot Sauce". He lost his hearing for about 25 minutes) If you look at the first bottle on the second shelf down (The reddish cap with the white top) that's mine. It's supposed to look like a Santa hat.) Directly below that and to the right in the photot is a bottle with what appears to be Mardi Gras beads. That's the "Show yer T#t's" brand hot sauce. Not that the two have even a remote connotation. I held the bottle up over my head for nearly a minute and it didn't do a dang thing. Well, the Abuela that was running the counter put a suspicious hand near the hem of her shirt...but that was all. Close call, that.

And here is the infamous flat tire. We carefully took her up to the corner Chevron station where I valiantly attempted resuscitation to no avail. After the free emergency Mavis roadside assistance showed up, he recommended that we take it to "Chip's Tire's" on Monday a.m. Chip was an affable man. Skinny, pepper gray handle bar mustache to match his hair. Tinted specs. Pall Mall hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Barking orders and running around like a man half his age. He delegates tire patching detail to one of his employees who after a cursory glance discovers the culprit: A well placed nail. The head of the thing looked like it was the size of a dime. Our tire didn't stand a chance. One quick patch and we were off like a prom dress.








And While we were frassin' in the Tire store wait area...working our crossword with gusto ("Quick! What's a 16 letter word for a 1988 movie starring Tom Selleck, Steve Guttenburg, et.al?") , this man who was from NYC was audibly talking to (I presume) HIS insurance agency or roadside service. He made this big deal about being from NY, loudly announcing it to the person on the phone's recieving end AND to the Tire store patron's. ("WHAT? YEAH'S. THAT'S RIGHT, DIRECT FROM NEW YORK CITY, NY...WHAT'S IT TO YA? EHHHH, YEAHYEAHYEAH DESE GUYS ARE GREAT.")

People amaze me. They really do.

I can't make this stuff up. The first night in Santa Fe, this Baptist church was touting a legendary and renowned pastor who was coming in to give the Sunday sermon. I allowed it a fleeting glance before diving back into my book.

Cut to the day we're leaving to hit Taos. Dorajar and I both did a double take, pulled a U-ey so we could bring you the latest bout of mild church vandalism:




Seriously. This was also a bit ironic since not 3 days prior we were listening to one of the only stations to provide any airplay in the desert which happened to be a religious station. Touting the fact that pre-marital sex is not only sinful but a gateway for demonic possession, and that Ted "The Nuge" Nugent was sinful due to the fact that he hunted animals and committed the demonic pagan act of drinking the animals blood.

Heh.



In two otherwise completely unrelated notes, I am proud to say that I was able to get a spat of fiction reading in during the week (after picking up some used nickelbacks at the Moab used bookstore.) and I demolished not one. Not two. But four, count'em FOUR adapted screenplays based on their respective movie. (With the exception of "Jaws", which technicallyh came first.) "Dragonslayer", "Krull", and "Willow" all became my b#tches. Between those and the bachanalian number of crosswords we did over pints of micro-brewed pale ale? I feel like a new man.

Secondly, one of our other bullet points was obtaining a unique and powerful hot sauce. We found a shop in Santa Fe that catered to this wish, however the shelf proved overwhelming in the number of potential candidates. (Varying from "Hot as F#ck" hotsauce to "Show your T#t's" hot sauce.)

I opted for one called "Christmas time" Hot Sauce. Appropos for nothing.


Lastly, I hate the term "Snuggle Pouch"and any physical area that term may be associated with. You heard me. And I hate being in crowded stores when SOMEone behind me asks if my chlamydia is acting up. In an outdoor voice. >: P

Hi. Aloha. Mazel Tov. We're back now. Alive. Barely. I won't spare you all the gory details. Maybe I'll cut/tag them into episodic LJ entries. Maybe I'll just make a mini-book that can accompany the DVD footage we shot while tripping on the road. Sufficed to say, it was a helluva a trip and I'm already going into post-trippy depression. Some highlights:

1 flight into Denver with a SCREAMING pampie right behind our ears for 1.5 hours. (Mo was upset that she didn't bring a taser. That child was Chucky and Damian all rolled up into one. It was his evil eyebrows.)

We logged 1,540 miles on the borrowed Ford Focus.

Hit 3 states.

Met a hippy with a lisp at the Hostel. ("I am the offith!")

17 margarita's. (Part of our half-assed itinerary was to find the perfect margarita. I tell you what, it was NOT the margie they served in Eagle Nest, CO at the Historic Grand Vault Saloon and Inn. Cheap bastards. At least it served as the "quirky bar" we wanted to visit)

15 different kind of brew pub pale ales.

One "Half" Litre of Jack.

One "Half" Litre of Morgans.

Eating more different versions of beans and tortilla's than you'd want to eat and be in the same room as another human being. Prrrrrt.

1 flat tire fixed by Chip the magical tire guy.

1 retarded Mikey thinking that a jog in 109 degree heat with 0 humidity was a good idea in Moab. (As well as an uphill jog at 8,000 feet above sea level in Santa Fe)

A burning desire to relocate to Durango, CO (While we're young. We had the best breakfast there) or Santa Fe, NM when we're older. (We danced with the hippies in town square, pausing to realize that we were probably the next youngest demographic by 20 years)

5 different hikes of varying intensity- ranging from a leisurely 2 mile putter around the Canyonlands, to an intense 4.5 mile hike that went from 8,000 to 9,010 feet, then down. Then right back up again. (And some mo-fo was jogging it! With his pregnant wife! Nootz to them!)

A deranged multiple-personality disordered tour guide at Mesa Verde named "Ranger Jo" She was a trippy lady. She kept channelling "Grandfather". "Grandfather, will you tell us why?!?!"/(Back to herself) "Girl? You don't wanna know"

In all that, we managed to sneak in both a sushi night in Santa Fe (The owners appreciated my lame attempts at Japanese. Kampei indeed) and Thai food whilst parked in Denver on our last night.

Then I got home and found out that my water heater is busted. Flooding the basement. Again.

At least he kept the lawn watered. It's greener than my nabes, anyway.

Hi guys. It's great to be home. I missed my city. And my roommate. And my kitty...

Good bye, all!!!

We're leaving on a jet plane! Hope to post pictures etc. on our return!


See you when we're sunburned!

Ah HA! You all forGOT didn't YOU!!!!

Today...of all days...Is the infamous Baby P "Half Birthday" extravaganza!

For the unitiated, a Cliff Notes History:

Doi, I was born on X-mas. And while the big question that begs addressing whenever I get that pitied look from folks after disclosing said birthday is: "Oooooooo, you must get gypped on gifts, huh?" Actually, not really. I think we all do pretty well. (Well, to be fair? Papa P usually gets quite a bit. But boy deserves it, yo) The one really chagrining thing about X-mas b'days is that growing up, Baby P's buddies were usually home with their family and relatives. Setting up their own toys or eating their own X'Mas meals. In other words, no Panda Party at Skateland for this bouncing boy. No swimming parties at Elm Creek. No going apeshit at Chuck E Cheese. It was the same for me as the rest of them. Sadness Pie. : (

But never fear, quoth the folks. We will celebrate MID-way through the year, so that you don't have to miss out on the festiveness which is the childhood b'day. It was dubbed, the HALF-birthday. (Or for the truncation-inclined: "H'B'Day".) Right after school'd let out, we had days and nights free to frass. We had a Panda Parties. McDonalds Parties. (And that cake they made. Awful. I'll never forget biting into one of the balloon decorative things and it was like biting old hard bland sugar.) Giving myself a bloody nose on the zip line at Elm Creek. (Face first into the gravel) And? One of my favorite H'B'Day mems:

At age 5.5, we threw a theme party at the (At the time) new BeeP's house. In the interest of being cost effective, Mama-san read in a party book on how to throw an inexpensive theme party for kids. This gimmick was to blindfold the kids, have them walk single file (Hand in Hand) and walk them threw your house/outside pre-set "obstacles" while the host (Mom) narrated. (ex: Tape a bunch of string to the ceiling and say "Watch out for the spider web" or walking us over to sheets laid down with cornflakes and warning us to "Be careful not to break the bat eggs!", and the last number= Walking us outside threw the little blue kiddie pool saying "Ooookay. We're crossing the river now, hurry across to avoid pirahna!")

When it was all said and done, I ran upstairs to ask mom if I could go swimming in the pool. (Addicted to water, I was) She acquiesed with the reminder that I was to not-under any circumstances-get my "Good" H'B'Day clothes wet. (She had full knowledge, even at that tender age, of my penchant for flinging myself in pools/lakes/ocean's while fully clothed)

So I did. In a nice little pile by the back door to the porch. Sploosh Sploosh Sploosh.

By the time the cry of "CAAAAAAAAKE" followed by "DON'T TRACK WATER IN THE HOUSE, KIDDO!!!" we all barrelled upstairs like so many stampeding water buffalo. What happens next is LEGEND!

I obeyed the letter of the law. If not the spirit. And standing there with my big brother, and little neighborhood buddies. Boys and Girls. Yes, standing there in the dining room stuffing the cake in as fast as I could masticate it: Butt-Bare-Butterball-Nekkid. Ma snapped a polaroid for posterity, showing me so many years later that what amazed her was that no one in the picture seemed to care. Oblivious. Everyone is standing around, eating cake, with this nude dude in the middle. Ah, the folly of youth.


Nowadays I do such things for pure shock value (ala' Saturday night, when either Dorajar, the curious, or myself'd wind up lifting up my kilt up for giggles. Don't worry Ma. I was hammocked)

So, I have the best old gift coming up which is getting out of Dodge for a week, and in a completely self-serving act (In addition to trying to drum up commentor's. Y'all have been ridiculously quiet. Time was when folks'd leave 6 comments a gander!) I want you to comment on the following:

A) 1st memory or any memory of yours truly that sticks in your head (Doesn't have to be from a birthday, but it'd help.
B) A great birthday memory of your own, or regarding someone else.

Word. This'll go up on LJ to, frasser's.

HAPPY HALF B'DAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Bass Ackwards...

So you heard Sunday. Low key pride-ing with the Porkchops. Caturday was fairly uneventful too during the day. I got up and used my back rublet gift card to call in my complimentary one hour massage. She recognized and got the bits that have given me some area's of irritation in my trapezius/sternocleidomastiod tie-in's. (Or as I say: My twin I absorbed in utero) She told me she could tell I was a runner due to increased tension in my "ITS"...and I went home with a puffy head. (After stopping in for a small smoothie at Tao. I haven't been in a year, and a protein power smoothie seemed like a nice hippie way to round out the a.m.) I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning my house a little before Ry-gonn and Dorajar stopped over for home made fajita's and to watch a little "Ali G" and "Robot Chicken" (Bock bock bock, buh-bock bock BOCK!)

Then Mozzle came back from her show, we grabbed the Pust and all caravaned out to the B'day. I went kilted coz that's how I roll. Mozzle looked leggy and hot. And lightsabers. Oh, the aforementioned lightsabers. They're "not for connecting" with one and other, but that didn't stop the whole bally lot of us nerds from going outside and playing. Awwwww yeah.

It was a long, LONG a$$ night in spite of being so fun. So yeah, happy birthday boys. Many happy returns.

Why, Morpheus, Why?

Well. That was a full blown evening of insomnia. I went down at 10:30 after having stayed up until 3:30 the night before. (So worth it. The joint b'day party was a s#it ton of fun. Where else can you say that you frassed around with lightsabers to the wee hours? My hands were KILLING me the next day) I got up early after some guilty voicemail goading from the gay burrito to come over to a pre-pride party. This year I just, didn't wanna go. I've already filled my in-town parade quota for the year with last weeks NE parade (Unless the old torchlight parade brings me out) So he insisted I just pop over and see some old NHCC buddies and swill some mimosa's.

It was fun. Really. We et quiche, and mim's/BM's/Screwdrivers and sat around BS'ing and catching up. The sun did it's damage tho', and instead of going for a run I went into my conditioned air home to wait for Mo-Mo to get done with rehearsal. We made it through one, count it, one episode of Slings and Arrows before hitting the hay. When...nada. I was too tired to sleep. And sweating again. I couldn't keep my legs together without the perspiration driving me crazy. So it was toss, turn, grab some towels to lay down, flip, grab pillow, get cold (AC) go back under. I think I had one small weird moment of sleep where I dreamed that I was Superman and this group of villains from the phantom zone threatened my family. They then made me come out to dinner while they made frightening comments towards which my family remained blissfully clueless. I then excused myself, and flew off to distract them.


I don't even care for Superman that much.

Anyway, 12 became 1 am, 1 am became 2am, etc. Etc. By the time 5 am came around I just wanted one, solid, hour of sleep. Niente. Furg.

Today'll be...interesting, to be sure.

This is killing me...

You want a laugh? Go to wiki and look up movies that either you've seen, or not seen, and see if they have a "Detailed Plot Summary". No lie, I've gone through almost the ENTIRE Schwarzenegger canon and the summaries are frassin' HY-Sterical.


Take this little ditty from "Raw Deal":

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_%281986_film%29

"Kaminsky escapes, assisted by Monique (who has grown fond of him). He then suits up, gathers an array of firearms and raids one of Patrovita's gravel pits, eventually killing everyone and walking off with the cash left behind. He hands the cash to Monique and gets her on a chartered plane, then sets off to Patrovita's casino, hidden in a basement level of a high class hotel. There, he single-handedly wipes out Patrovita and all of his men, including Rocca. On his way out, he encounters a whimpering Baxter, and offers him a gun with the same line Baxter earlier used on Kaminsky: "Resign, or be prosecuted. Any way you want it." Kaminsky starts to walk off, and when Baxter attempts to shoot him, turns and shoots Baxter in self-defense."


I'm sure not everyone is going to find this as comical as I am, but thus spake the wiki. I also read up on Perseus vs. the Gorgon. Great stuff.

Feerkin' Essited

Minneapolis to Denver
Denver to Moab
Moab to Cortez/Mesa Verde
Mesa Verde to Santa Fe
Santa Fe back to da airport
Homeski and Hutch

Good lordy I can use a vacay.

Gah! I suck!

I suck worse than "Short Circuit 2"!


Okay:

Happy belated Anniversary to Ry-Gonn. The first of many. The symbol for Annie-#-one is "paper". So, uh, give her a Mead loose leaf notebook or something. (I mean for the love, Rainbow foods of all places has cleared out a section by the soup to advertise school supplies. In JUNE! Hello, let's not depress kids too soon. 'Kay? I mean, will you be pimpin' X-mas over the 4th of July? Bastiges)

Happy early Anniversary (6/29) to Mom and Dad. It's nice to see dad relaxing more.

Happy Birthdays (Belated) FeeJ, Forte', Kaiser, Grantpa, Linzie, Srustie, BeeJ, BWJ, et.al.

Happy Birthday...Today...to Daddy-O P. He turns the big 6-4 this year. Many happy returns, Papa-san.

Happy Father's Day. Spent it frassin' with the rents, admiring my big brother (And Dr. Weef's) parenting skills, and amazed myself by wishing HIM a happy father's day. (Much to my dad's chagrin. It used to be all about him. Poor guy)

Happy (early) Pride. Way to be gay!!! (And am I meeting Sssssteve and Twocherries or whart?)

I ate grilled halibut. Pip Pip. X can cook like a beast.

I went to an amazing fundraiser party. Good times.

I attended a Fijian luau and ate lamb in honor of the birth of FeeJ. This was a weekend of eating foods that my normally panic induced fanatical healthy-pants self wouldn't touch. (Steak on Father's Day, being the 2nd) I also pimped my idea for a project to her beau. Thoughts be a-brewing.

Um. Big brother is going to start fighting in BC again. Gotta get in shape.

Nordeast had there annual parade. Dorajar and I walked to it and admired the steamy seamy throngs of individuality and culture that milled around, planted on so many folding chairs. Watching the pampies scramble after dirty strewn candy. As the representatives and council members waved from convertibles. As the princesses from towns as far as Red Wing waved that familiar and strangely comforting pop and lock wave of theres, smiling their princessly smiles. Listening to the marching bands, and the step teams, and the hollering Shriner's. And getting mauled by Klondike Kate. It was such a profound, and robust feeling of connectivity that I found myself getting all emo over it.

Maybe it was the booze. Who knows.

Everyone who reads this, who hasn't seen it- Go see Uncle Vanya at TRP. I don't care if you live in Walla Walla, Washington. This is the final weekend, and it is a profoundly moving piece of work. And yeah, bias is as bias does- Dorajar does some fantastic work.

I love...

Love...the fact that my workplace cafeteria has an "Imagination Bar" in lieu of a "Salad Bar". And that Wednesday's theme was "Pasta- YOUR way!" and part of the offerings was "Your Health-YOUR way" (Being that it offered whole wheat penne as a substitute)

I meandered in there to check it out. Yup. There was the wheat penne in one pan, regular in another, parmesan cheese powder in the third, and...what's that in the sauce pan? The single sauce pan? The only sauce option available?


Hamburger meat sauce.

Your health, your way indeed. As long as you eat your noodles plain.

Beck in Bleck

I'm wearing all black today. Not for some weird sense of mourning or anything like that (Well, I guess the 63rd anniversary of the Normandy Invasion could count.) It was more of "Let's stick our hand in the closet and see what kind of costume you can pull off today" kinda...deal.

Well the shirt is, how do you say, sateen? The kind where when you hug someone they'll occasionally comment on the fabric. Well this shirt poofs out a little in this pirate-y sort of way. So couple the blousing blouse with my long legs and what do you get?

The effect of a marshmallow being stuffed into two straws. A black marshmallow. And two black straws.

I'm terrible.