God'll get ya...

That's what my mom would say if you ever accidentally injured yourself. (The hint, meaning you did something blasphemous and "God gets you back". If you swear, then bark your shin? God gets ya.)

Well I got got by God last Friday. Heading into the parking lot at work last Friday, my mind fixed on the pending 3-day weekend, I started cursing up a blue streak as someone tore a$$ past me at at LEAST 30+ MPH. (Posted limits are 10mph) Now for our Non-MN readers, after recent snowfalls the demarcation between parking spaces is somewhat difficult to determine. Ergo, people start parking all higgledy piggledy nimby wimby, over lines, sideways, perpindicular. No parking lines ='s Mass hysteria.

Well the snow was clear enough that I was able to park well enough within my space when I see speedy Maru getting out of their vehicle, stemming another muttered utterance of cursing about their ability to drive, what their hurry was, if they were-in fact-suffering from a sight impairment or a weighted right foot. Yeah. Throw in some F-bombs and the fecal description of their brain matter, you'll have my monologue.

As I step out of my car, I place my foot on a chunk of road ice someone had either kicked off or had fallen off a wheel well. Placing my full weight on it before realizing it would smush, I proceeded to "roll" my ankle at an outward angle. That, friends, caused a shooting pain to fire its way up my leg to my lower back. More cursing ensued.

To get it out of the way, lest I forget at the end of the day and repeat my error, I casually throw a kick at it to boot it under my car- Not realizing of course that (A) it was frozen cemented to the ground and (B) had frozen to a consistency roughly that of concrete. I caught it full on the upper ball of my foot/big toe. THAT pain was a unique experience unto itself and I shall not share it on this blog. I won't. It was nearly spiritual.

Hobbling in to work, I reminded my self of the phrase "God'll get ya" and hence- the foundation of today's bliggity blog.

ps- I didn't notice it that evening, or even the next day. But under the harsh fluorescent glare in the locker room shower, that sucker took on a shade of dark purple that nearly made me woozy.

It was still in the low negative double digits

Sub-Zero...WINS!!!

6:00- Wakes up. Amazed...amazed, mind you, that he slept through the night. Thank you, chamomille and Jack.

6:02- shuffles over to turn on PC to check his business

6:02 to 6:06- Time to make potty

6:07- Turns on sink to warm up, shoves toofbrush in mouth (chewing it, mostly) opens web browser

6:08- Blinded by the glare of Mozilla Google Start Pages "whiteness" in the dark, fumbles to type "Y-A" in the browser.

6:09- 4 messages! Cool. Temperature in the Twin Cites: -23 degrees F.

Not cool.

So:

Underwear- Check (You may laugh, but a cutting 45 below windchill can go through layers and frostbite your bits!)
Long undershirt- Check
Long undiepants- Check (They don't match, btw. F#ck a bunch of fashion)
Thick wooly socks- Check
T-Shirt over long undershirt- Check
Jeans- Check
Sweater- Check
Hat- Check (Sorry hair)
Gloves- Check
Scarf- Check
12 year old Columbia jacket with liner- Check

If I owned that heavy duty Carhart construction worker snowmobile suit? I'd probably wear that too.

I trundle out to start my car 20 minutes before leaving. It takes a second. It takes me a second to notice that my overhead light doesn't come on right away when the door is open. (Thank you, Stinson Auto, for my new battery.)

I really obsess over the cold. It's true. I think all MN residents do too, to a degree. So, for all my international readers who may be viewing this from warmer climates. ( I just cracked myself up with that one) It's officially so cold, it hurts. I packed an extra hat and gloves in my briefcase. I haven't been to the gym so far this week in spite of having my gym bag with me because it's so cold that it saps my energy just being outside (The closest I've came was Great Dragon, but dangit. Nothing says "comfort" like chicken and brocolli over rice with extra hot mustard).

Here is my email to the gang this morning, which Moda calls poetry:


Cold.
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.

It hurt going from my building to my car*. It hurt going from my car inside. It hurt running out to top my tank off at the gas station and add HEET to it in order to ensure that my car starts in the morning. (That hurt especially. Since you have to stand around cleaning off salt from your headlights and windshield since it's still too cold to try and use your wipers)

Ish.

I figure it could be worse. Chicago has it pretty rough I hear tell. (Stay WARM Magroo!!)

*It should be noted, that even the handicapped parking spaces are at least 100 yards from the entrance. Even at a brisk trot, and the fact that I start my shift at the boot crack of dawn, meant wind burn on my exposed pieces.

The shivers...

This morning, it was - 13 degree's and a 30 below windchill. Windchill advisory. The coldest a.m. start since February of 2007. (Although the previous February, I recall it being so cold that even my car heater couldn't compensate. That'd be the night I saw "12th Night" at TRP and spent the night at Moda's Hobbit Hole in Uptown...sans heat. Yeah. We huddled around her stove like vagrants around a burning trash can)

Now the snowy commute last night sucked, but that was just because it was slow. This morning was a whoooole new kettle of fish. There were, literally, 12 accidents on my way in this morning. These ranged from spinouts on the off ramp (Two were only 100 feet from each other on the 94 to 494 exit) to full blown glass strewn across the road with crumpled fenders and bumpers.

- 13 degree's. And even colder by Thursday. This s#It makes me want to move to South America. Slather on Coppertone. Eat mangos...or papaya's. I don't even know if I like papaya's.

I like margarita's. This is definitely not a margarita climate.

Sue-She

I made that. Me.

Today's blog* is brought to you by the letter "Mo". (Who I'm fairly certain wants me to post an online declaration of her awesomeness at picking out birthday presents.) THIS particular gift was in the form of a sushi chef's knife, bottle of sake' (pictured behind said sushi) and a sushi making class offered at Tanpopo in Stipples. Yee Haw.

I woke up early on Sunday in a giddy birthday mood, forcing Mo to get up too. We scarfed a bit of breakfast (knowing that having to wait to eat may have been deadly) before skedaddling out to our 11-2pm class. From there we took our stations at got a-learnin'. We fanned the rice, looked at the variety of fishes. (The coolest bit? The enormous yellowtail she took out and carved while telling us the good versus the bad bits. It was literally fresh off the boat.) We started with a couple of inside out rolls, before butterflying shrimp and creating nagiri. From there, we moved on to more traditional rolls. (Which I thouroughly f#cked the heck up. Note to self- Not so much rice and filling, mmkay?) All the while, popping the occasional roll in our mouths (Or in my case- eating the spicy tuna and spicy crab mixtures directly from the serving bowl. You'll notice a random asparagus on top of the tray? That was no accident. That was pure gluttony.)

And yeah, I was excitable. Maybe even "gregarious to the point of being obnoxious to the other students/instructor". But it was exciting. And it was fun. And if I had the disposable income, I'd love taking all sorts of cooking classes. Thai, Indian, Italian...Mmmmm...

Well, that magnificent looking tray up there? Well from the end of class to nearly 8pm I spent thoughtfully mowing through the contents, (While periodically sipping sake. Hey! The sake serving set in my China Hutch isn't going to use itself!) Which meant I went to bed stuffed, AND early. Put it this way, I didn't make it through the first hour of the Golden Globes.

Yeah. I probably shoulda invited FeeJ over to help with that. Sorry FeeJ!

*I pronouned blog with a long "O". Blog-Blog-Blog. Cracked me up.

You don't fool me, Snuggie...

Ohhhhh, don't get me started. So they're pimping this...thing. Right? It starts off with a woman on a couch, under a blanket, struggling to keep the blanket covering her body and trying to read a book at the same time. Life is hard. Mind you, they have the appropriate bluish/gray gel over the screen in order to give those who don't appreciate this womans "acting-cold" talents the sense that "heeeey...it DOES look like she's cold. Her home is BLUE for God's sake!!!"

Cut away to the happy actors buried in their SNUGGIES!!! A warm fleece blanket...WITH SLEEVES!!! Look, perfect for reclining with a book and a spot of tea. Cuddling is a SNAP with a snuggie! PERFECT for dorm rooms. The ESSENTIAL item for cold days. Why go on LIVING if you don't have a SNUGGIE! AND we'll throw in SLIPPERS!

Wait. What? Why would you wear slippers inside that stupid thing? Moreover, I noticed onnnnnne tiny detail left out of the commercial and is potentially setting up their company to be in an actionable position.

Nobody is standing. In fact, they don't show any attempts at mobility from any of the actors. They're all in various reclining, relaxed postures. Perhaps hoping that through mere apathy, sloth, and willpower you someday will actually turn the Snuggie into your own fleece skintight casing.

No, I also think you wouldn't be able to walk in the dang thing. That's right. Any hopes of mobility will make you wind up like Maggie Simpson without a balloon tied around her waist.

IJS

Huh. I did not know that.

Ben Weider passed away last year on my mom's birthday. He was the co-founder of the Internation Federation of Body Builders with his little brother Joe. I figure most folks have never heard of the guy, but I used to read about the dude constantly.

Before I hit pooberty, I looked like the cherubic little cutie on the right. When I had the old growth spurt between 8th and 9th grade (and after a gym class on weightlifting) I was hooked on working out. I familiarized myself with all the free weights, Nautilus, machines, and even brushed off the old K-Bel dumbells in the garage. (Remember those? Poured concrete covered in plastic? Granted I did like, two exercises with'em.)

Mom was most supportive, and many a trip was made to the local GNC where I could experiment with various supplements, oils, pills, drinks, bars, etc. And while I was at the ol' Brookdale GNC, I picked up my first issue of Muscle and Fitness. And I collected them religiously over the next few years. (Along with MuscleMag, Flex, Men's Fitness, etc.) Well in those fitness rags-which invariably were 80% advertising and 100% recycled recipes/routines- the name Weider came up all the time.

The guys who revolutionized modern fitness as we know it, brought it to the spot light, gave us new exercises and took the narcissistic stigma away from bodybuilding in general. Heck, the guy was nominated for a Nobel award AND was a Bonaparte scholar. Crazy.

Anyway, he's gone now. And an article I read at the gym (IRONY) said it best when it said "I guess I never thought he'd be gone. He's always just been this prescence that you knew was there. "

That'll learn my ego-centric self.

Compliment?

If you think that I'm getting bulked up...in better shape..."cut"...whatever- Saying "You're getting bigger" might get construed as a cap on moi. And we dysmorph's stew on that.

KTHXBYE!

Serves you right...

From MPR this morning. (Paraphrased, but the details are accurate)


"Several ice fishing house were broken into in Northern MN which has resulted in hundreds of dollars worth of goods, including fishing equipment and propane tanks."


"Ice fishing houses on Lake Minnetonka were robbed last week. Items include stereo equipment, propane tanks, and flat screen TV's. Estimates as to the amount of goods that were stolen are around $7,000."

Sighs...

You know something? I always thought that ice fishing was a moment of Zen for guys when their wives kicked them out. Sit in a shanty over a dark hole. Eating beef jerky from the local gas station. Swilling PBR out of the can. (Or Wild Turkey if that's your thing.) Breathing in propane heated air (And the occasional prrrt) while hoping to land a muskie or Northern when you'll probably walk away with some perch, blue gills, or a sauger.

Flat screen TV's? Really? Ain't you got no mama? And here I thought the acme of our societies overzealousness for entertainment was when they started putting DVD player's in Mini-van's and SUV's. I mean, s#it, we had to get away with reading while our parents yelled at us to "PUT DOWN THE BOOKS AND LOOK AT NATURE!!!"

Sidenote-

To piggyback on that last post-

No, Fitness Frassroads. I do not think a foam roller would have made a great holiday gift. In fact, if I were to receive that pool-toy looking piece of crap I would bopped the sender on the head with it.

Sincerely,

A frassy consumer

Hygienical Gym Question...

Heck, even an "at home" hygiene question- When you soap up in the shower do you use a vehicle to assist in cleaning yourself up or do you just push the soap around? I mean, it's simply a surficant so I'd think all you do is lather up but it really does nothing in terms of cleanliness.

I only bring this up because of a conversation I had with Moda last weekend where I asked the same question which bore the response "Why...because you use a poof?" with the accompanying stare which said to me: "Do you know how I know you're gay? You use a poof at the gym".

No. I think the important issue is utilizing said poof (or a washcloth, loofah, whatever) as an exfoliating vehicle. Merely pushing the soap around to create lather in and of itself does nothing. (In my mind) So using something to remove the superfluous molting epidermal layers via sloughing should not be looked down upon. I guess since I sweat like it was going out of fashion I feel kinda gross anyway after my workouts so the extra scruba-lubbing diminishes that feeling. (Until I start to sweat again after dressing. Hooray for fat kid metabolisms)

Anyway,

I'm already experiencing the post-New Years misanthropy that goes with being a regular gym rat. I usually hustle there after work so I can sequester a treadmill in front of the TV that plays "Jeopardy". (Yes, I'm that OCD/Anal that I can time the time it takes to get to the gym, stretch, do my abs, and hop on a treadmill. SUCK IT!) Except this shining new face come durpy durping out of the locker room right after I did, grabs a towel, and gets on MY TREADMILL!!! I start mentally ripping on his running form, outfit, Ipod, pace...Yeah. Then the one next to it had an older woman wearing what looked like a pants suit walking her hearts content on the next one. (And she. Had. Too. Much. Perfume on. At the gym) I will love late January when the weekend warriors/Resolutioners start to talk themselves out of gym visits.

I just don't want to have to start going at 5am. Ugh. I should, I should...

Lastly...How. How is it that these ginormous bodybuilding dudes- You know. The one's wearing the Under Armour brand spandex shirts and matching tights. Thick worn leather weight belt. Sweat band. Wrist wrap support gloves. Brand new shiny white kicks.

How is it that they can walk in, go over to the squat rack, lower the bar, load 4 plates on each side, grab it, lift it, step back, do a single shrug (Accompanied by an exhale of air that sounds like "WHUT!!!") Step away. Unload the plates...Annnnd they're done.

WTF?

Why so S*A*D?

While convalescing, I decided to organize the CD puddle that was spilling out of my soft sided case. (It's full now, and with gifts coming in the form of mix and burned CD's, I tend to come away with more jewel cases than I know what to do with, meaning my case is bulging at the seams. It also means I need a better way of organizing my CD's)

Well one of those CD's was an X-Mas mix that I'd played a few times over the last few weeks that was a gift from D and A back in 2007 which has got a fairly eclectic and very non-annoying array of Christmas tunes. Sliding it back in the case, I was reminded that here we are. It is now after the first of the New Year. And from here on out, winter is going to seem less cheer-y and more winter-y.

So for the next few months until mid-to-late April, my soul is going to enter a dark world that can only be described as a bleak, cold, blustery, and desolate place. Very similar to the outpost stationed in John Carpenter's "The Thing" only without the coolness of Kurt Russell.

In fact, the only thing that cheered me up was that I discovered on MCN an infomercial for a X-Mas DVD (You know...only 8 days after "the day"*) I first saw this guy last year and neglected to write down his information because "HOLY S#IT HE CAN PLAY TWO RECORDERS AT ONCE!!!" (Moda made an unkind comment about what the two tubes looked like when he blew them-) Hint- Watch the video preview for "Village of Dreams". The German (Pronounced "Chur-mahn") grampa character gives me the shivers.

http://www.davidyoungmusic.com/slideshow.asp

Ahem. Hey, man. Good for you and your recorders.


Happy Deep of Winter, everyone. If it hadn't gotten so mind-numbingly cold so soon I would be b#tching about the upcoming deep freeze. At this point, after having busted out the long undiepants SEVERAL times already, the point seems kinda moot.

*This is from the guy that is dragging his feet taking down his tree. If you follow the myth of the 12 days of X-mas I shoulda had her down yesterday. (Ornaments and decorations left up after the 12th day are supposedly bad luck)

Again, with the tales of Veggie...

I feel that not having a character on "Veggie Tales" based on the noble avocado is akin to vegetable racism. While we're at it, let's get a bulb of garlic in there. Mm'kay?



ps: Happy Belated birthday Sssssteve. Your twin brother actually friended me on Frassbook which meant I could re-verify the date. Because you're twins. Dig? And why, burrito, are you not on FRASSBOOK!

Luddite.

A little of moi...

It is my full intention to write a new (hopefully short) post every day this week. This weekend presented far too many riffable observances to not let go un-commented. I'm serious. And they all happened in the span of, like, 3 hours. (Reading subtitles on the treadmill will do that to you. You end up focusing on the details in the pictures)

To start things off, a ganked meme from Moda's blog (themoped.wordpress.com) :


1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before? ASM'ed a show; started a vegetable garden and reaped its unbelievable bounty all summer long; went on a Cruise;

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Resolutions are for chumps! Kidding. I kind of effed up. It's been the same every year and I am (A) Still in debt and (B) had to buy huskie boy jeans.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? My brother and sister-in-law. Ry-Gonn and Julie. The Frethemases

4. Did anyone close to you die? Not that I'm aware.

5. What countries did you visit? Mexico. A really filthy city in Mexico. Oh, and Catalina island.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? Piece of mind. A reduced waist size.

7. What date(s) from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? The cruise in March. Building my garden in May. Hosting a bride/groom BBQ for 50 people, then acting out "Ghostbusters" for two littlle kid guests. Tallen's birthday the next day and the hurricane that nearly stopped it. July 4th cruise. Taylor's Falls for hiking and kibbutzing. My niece's berf on August 14th. Fringe festival. Working a anime convention. Dinner/game nights. When the stock market started going kerflooey. November 4th. Thanksgiving at my house. The coldest December in ages. Myyyyy birthday! (Well, that last one isn't etched so much as it's like a sidewalk chalk drawing that got in the way of a sprinkler.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? ASM'ing an awesome show. My GARDEN! Finishing the front porch. Hosting the Bean's BBQ. Cooking many delicious meals. Learning how to cut food appropriately with good knives and getting an Epicurious cutting board. Going to the gym regularly. Being in a fairly well attended and received Fringe show. Seeing my girlfriend perform in her shows at least twice each.

9. What was your biggest failure? Not traveling enough. My car. Not squirreling away cash to help alleviate my personal debt. Not seeing a lot of movies on the big screen. Not getting to karate more. Not spending enough time with buddies

10. Did you suffer any illness or injury? I had a couple of colds, some really sore post-gym visits, and my most recent bout of, f#ck, I don't know. Consumption? "I gots the black spot on mah lung, pa."

11. What was the best thing you bought? A cruise for me and mah beeb. A good cutting board..

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? What does this even mean, Corky?

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Judge not (publically, on your blog), lest ye be judged (publically, on a blog). And it's market volatility, I know, but f#ck all it sucked when folks around my office started getting let go.

14. Where did most of your money go? Bills, Bills, Mortgage, Bills, Cruise

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? The Cruise. Mah berfday. Mah niece. "The Dark Knight" and "Iron Man". The "Watchmen" trailer. Sneaking Mo's presents into the Theater Garage without her knowledge.

16. What songs will always remind you of 2008? “White Winter Hymnal” –Fleet Foxes, "Polite Dance Song"- The Bird and the Bee, "Grapevine Fires"- Death Cab for Cutie, "Fidelity"- Regina Spektor.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder? I’m probably about even.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Travel. Save dough. Get cast in shows

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? $Worry about$. Frassed

20. How did you spend Christmas? It was epic and exhausting. (See previous posts) And apparently I have the constitution of a bull if I went from champagne, to a martini, to a glass of wine, to Scotch, to however many cocktails the Market gave up, a kamikaze, and more Scotch.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008? I stayed in love with my girlfriend, and really knew that when I tell my family and friends that I love them that I mean it with all my heart.

22. How many one-night stands? I have one nightstand.

23. What was your favorite TV program? "Heroes". Get better, Heroes, or I kick you in the nards.

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Not really. Sometimes when I see the "legacy" W is leaving behind it raises my ire.

25. What was the best book you read? I loved "American Gods", "It's Superman!", and "Garlic and Sapphires"

26. What was your greatest musical discovery? Fleet Foxes; The Bird and the Bee, Death Cab for Cutie, Dan Wilson's latest, Regina Spektor, and Blitzen Trapper

27. What did you want to get? Growth, Peace, Joy, a flat screen TV

28. What was your favorite film of this year? "The Dark Knight". Yeah, Yeah. "Don't break your leg jumping on the bandwagon there, P!!!"

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I was celebrating the 13th anniversary of my 21st birthday and avoiding alcohol poisoning/Pulling a Jimi Hendrix.

30. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Moda. Becoming an uncle/Godmother.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? Clothes are overrated. Seriously? I'm lucky if my socks match. I am fashion clutter.

32. What kept you sane? Mo, Folks, Booze, Books, teh Interwebs, .

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Obama. Tina Fey.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? The election. Proposition 8. And more recently, the hubub on the Gaza Strip.

35. Who did you miss? Ryan, Adam, and Steve respectively

36. Who was the best new person you met? I thought Larry Roupe was pretty awesome

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008? Do not watch soft core pr0n when you think your roommate will be out all night. You will be uncomfortable as he peeks in every so often to see what scene you are on.

Anyone else think that it's kinda jank?

To have to go into work on a Friday, the day after a National holiday off? That's just..."week-us interruptus" and we have to eat it.

Shows what I know. I've already had to take two unscheduled days of personal time off due to sickness. (Which, in this economy fills me with a certain amount of dread coming back)

Sighs. And what do I do? Stay up until close to 4am video taping an impromptu ABBA inspired dance party in the hopes that one of the guests will make as much of an ass of themselves as I did on my birthday. (They did. To be sure, being sick ensures that I won't be drinking fine pink champag-na to the wee hours and impeding the crap outta my recovery. And I did get some bueno footage, boy howdy)

No. Now I'm just tired. And will probably turn in at a reasonable hour after having some chamomile tea with lemon and honey. Think very hard about 2008 and what I can do better. Update my resume' some more. And try to complete "A Prayer for Owen Meany". A book that I very much should have probably read when I was a sophomore or junior in high school. (But the impact probably may not have resonated)

Happy new years, all. 2008 was a challenge, so let's all give thanks if we're still here and buckle down for a more optimistic 2009.


ps- "The Dark Knight" is 25 x's of cool the second time through. And probably will be the 5-10th time through.

I blame the Laphroaig...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laphroaig_Single_Malt

"You danced, and now you have to pay the piper..."

I've always liked that quote. My old co-worker when I was at the Bullseye said that to me when I stumbled into work one Saturday after partying the night before with the Porkchops. (This would also be the day I snuck up to the 11th executive floor, snuck into an empty office, and fell asleep under a conference table for an hour. Whoops)

Sick. Sick as a dog. Woke myself up this morning super early in a wracking, dry-coughing fit. I felt my back get all funky and now it's awful today. Runny nose. Blurry vision. Not fun. I hate coughs that don't produce. Gross, I know. But it's giving me a sore throat. Ow.

X-Mas was great. I wish I had time to respond to everyone that sent love and well wishes. It was really awesome to see my frassbook page filled with all that goodness. The day of X-Mas is probably what started me on this road to ruin...

So I hopped over to Broiler's who was also awake waaaay early and was able to get RSVP's gift. (7am) Then home to a frassy 'Bean who was chatty. Finally succumbing to exhaustion, I claw my way into bed only to have a panicky mom call 10 minutes later to have me hustle over and help clean. I go over, caffeine up, and get to work. The rest of the fam damily shows (RSVP and brood) we have a great day of gifts, food, love, etc. Finally it's 3:30 and I'm in need of boogying so I can hook up w/Moda, pre-hotel. I am in desperate need of a nap.

We exchange gifts while swilling fine pink champers and I beg for 20 minutes. It's for naught, and we head off to BANK for dinner. Another cocktail consumed w/dinner, we head back to the hotel. Now, we're both pooped. The nap again is for naught, since cell phones start going off at regular intervals inquiring as to our status. Folks show up, and BW-J pops in with his annual Scotch gift. (Instead of the usual McAllens, it's the above mentioned whiskey) So, we get into that filthy, filthy stuff and commence "cheers" etc.

Now it's off to the Market.

Now I don't pay for a single drink. Of which, I believe, I had several. We danced. We sang. I shrieked myself hoarse. I. Iiiiii was that guy. You know him. A little drunk. A little louder than necessary. And doing a shuffling little jig when Elvis is sung.

Back to the hotel. Where I proceed to nurse another filth and water. And try and get folks out of their clothing. And lifting up my shirt repeatedly as an example. It was 4am before we got everyone out of there. Then finally pass the frack out. And drag our carcasses out at noon so we could meet RSVP for brunch at Keys. At this point, the night before manifested itself into a hum-dinger of a headache. We napped for 3 hours before calling it quits, watching "WALL-E" and going to bed.

Caturday night was game night at Panda-Bot's where it was mulled wine and wine-wine. Home at 1:30.

I'm just. Yeah. I think I'm getting to old for this s#it.

Oof.

Oh yeah

I made it. That's right.

Except the only reason I was up at that ungodly hour wasn't due to (A) Nostalgia (I'm a little past that. I remember doing this when I was an early teen out of some sense of ritual or nostalgia. I'd even play happy birthday on my cheap Casio or something) Orrrrr (B) Actual childbirth. Something my poor mother had to endure all these years ago.


Nope. I had to go to the bathroom. Then needed to check the laundry tub and the floor was cold. And realized I hadn't re-set the coffee maker alarm so my house smells of organic breakfast blend.

And my internal (infernal) alarm sez "WORK TIME, BABY P!!! IT'S TIME TO MAKE THE DONUTS!!!"


Grrrr...First post as a 34 (whoops) year old and here I go making an awful Dunkin Donuts reference.


Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy (late...late) Diwali, Kwanzaa...Festiv...(F#ck it. It's made up. "Happy Porkledeedorkle day, all!") Be well, safe, and if you are an orphan in the Twin Cities metro I imagine I'll see you out and about tonight at one of the...3 or 4 open bars.

Your friendly neighborhood X-mas babe







Heavy emphasis on the babe. It's my birthday. The economy sucks. Thick and heavy compliments are free.

Another fine year you've gotten us into...

I'm home. In the TV room. 2 rolls of the roomies wrapping paper in front of me and a few assorted bibs and bobs strewn about. And celebrating the evening before my (harumphyMcharumpherson) birthday.

I ran out into the world tonight to grab something as a favor to my mom which wasn't as heinous as I imagined it could have been if you were to believe the news. (In and out of stores within scant minutes) And now I watch as the twilight hours of the last year celebrating my b'day tick off.

I figured since I was born on X-Mas, this last magic birthday meant I would be dragged off by Roman Centurions around Easter to be asked a bevvie of questions regarding my self-proclaimed awesomeness. It was not to be, however, and it just meant a very minor case of buyers remorse and fond memories of a tax-rebate funded cruise with my beeb. Could have been worth, savior-wanters.

So this year, I have asked family to avoid gifting me in lieu of either donations to charity, gifts for my growing niece and nephew, well wishes, and a general hope that we as a society/country can start to do the slow crawl to more prosperous times. This is dubious since my mom was asking for an X-Mas list up to the 22nd. Sigh...

I'll try, again, to rise for my "I was born at 5:54 am" post saying I was there I ushered in a new year for myself.

Instead, I'll probably be snoozing off the night with Santa overhead.

Happy Holidays, Frassers. Be safe, well, and loved this upcoming New Year.

I hate wrapping gifts. My cuts look like a 2nd grader attempting to do it with their non-dominant hand and I could probably stand to single-handedly finance the gift-bag industry.

Le whew

Well. The dreaded big team meeting was a bit of a let down. It boiled down to "We don't know anything either. Please stop spreading rumors if you can. We aren't going anywhere any time soon".

So whew, and huh? We ended up talking about the weather. How very...Minnesotan...of us.

I'm growing so violently sick of the terms "Market volatility" and "Unstable Financial Conditions" that I'm pretty sure that I'm getting an ulcer. And poor NMMC. Laid off 80 nurses? Right. Before. Christmas? (My co-worker's wife was one of them) Ugh. Just. Ugh. Thanks, hospital of my birth.


Okay. Done with that.

Last night the SO and I attempted to watch a racy flick from her queue. Seemed like a pretty good idea at the time. Until the roommate came home about 5-10 minutes into it. It was pretty uncanny how often he found an opportunity to bounce upstairs with some form of current events or another. And to see which scene we were on. Awwwwwkward. (It was awful, btw. If you want to watch "Lie with Her", don't. Get pR0n instead. It was pretentious smut. The worst kind.)

Below zero temperatures belong in mid-February and need to last 3-4 days. Nothing "Wonderful" about this "Wonderland". It's a wonder I don't pack it in and head South. Frass...



ps: Yes, Moll. Anything by Dan Folgerburp is crap, IMNSHO. If James Brown is the "Godfather of Soul"? then he is...like...the "Great Uncle of Emo-Rock".

What I want, need...this Christmas

Need/Want-ish:

Out of debt (Never happen this X-mas)
AAA membership. Mine lapsed this year, and it is the SINGLE greatest investment an older car owner can have. I was towed 4 x's in 2007.

Help staining/attaching the molding

Either a new laundry tub, or to replace the U joint that's clogged and won't get unclogged.

Gift Card to take Moda out on a proper date to a proper place. Or subsequent cash.

DVD- "Iron Man", "The Dark Knight", "The Incredible Hulk", "Boogie Nights", or flicks I've lent out and subsequently lost. (Pick one)

Dumb liquor- Cooking stuff, mostly. But Bailey's, Whiskey, Brandy, etc. Would be nice. I cook at home a lot, now.

Cooking classes to share

Dance lessons (Like, I don't know, salsa or something. "Picosa" has them for free, but dinner there seems smarter

Dry cleaning done. I have many shirts that could use it.

Big boy underpants. Couple of packs. I'm a large Marge these days.



FRIVILOUS, kinda necessary, but can't afford right now-
New bathroom. Tile. Tub. Toilet. Sink. I hate my bathroom.
New garage. You know? One that didn't seem "practical" in 1884?
New car. Hell, New USED car. At least older than the "oughts".

Ridiculous, can live without, but want. Just want.-

Trip to Paris with a Ryan Air puddle jump to Rome. I have a huge history jones that will not be denied. And wikipedia kills me with information.

Expando cable. This is more for my roommate than I. He watches TV (when he's home) like it is his job. And I know that he sneaks off to his cousins to watch IFC. Know it.

Big frassy HD TV. 40 inches or more. I love watching movies more than air. And with the HD craze coming, I wouldn't mind seeing the "Dark Knight" Chinese building jump with all the details revealed intimately.

One, just one problem with Batman

I love those two recent Bat-mama movies. I do. I re-watched "Begins" and can't wait to own "TDK". And as I talked to a co-worker about them, he had this to say:

"I hate how B-Man talks. It's just, stupid"

I responded, of course, with the wonderful line "It's not who I ammmmmm..." with the postured over-inflection that we found in "BB". And he's right. And then I thought, hm. He's got it all wrong. He's frassin' about stealth and secretiveness when he's doing his vigilante gig in what amounts to a fricking mini...tank. Not easy to tool into Gotham and park in the "90 minutes or fewer" street. What. Will you throw a cover over it?

Here's a better idea buddy. Since you are mega-rich and fight the muggers hand to hand anyway. (And, you know. While the tank is cool. And makes an eventually SPOILER cooler motorcycle) it is faaaaar from practical. Think of the environment.

Try a plug in. Hybrid. Or better still, stop at the local dealer (GO LOCAL) and grab a 97 Geo Metro. GREAT gas mileage. And? No one will give two s#its about a dude in a bat costume hanging out and listening to MPR for the latest.


I'm just sayin...

It is not. A con-sarn...GROCERY STORE!!!

I approach the local green of Wal when the parking lot is full, only because that means a line. Now, a line at the super-chain grocery store is part and parcel of shopping. You sort of know the risks. But at a drug store, you figure there are folks in the back by the pharmacists to buy said drugs. And a few to pick up...oh, I don't know. A card.


So when you wait behind someone at the Green, or CVS, or whereever...with a shopping cart...that is FULL of crap (Milk, chips, nuts, beef jerky, mittens, and whatever the newest cologne Burger King sells)

Well. I get ticked. I have Carmex. A stick of gum. And a diet Coke. Maybe shaving cream. And the poor cashier is NOT having it.

This has happened way too much lately. For that much, GO to the chain mega gro-gro stores. Or the wholesalers. With the amount of crap you buy, you'll save yourself a fortune.

Grumble Grumble Frass...

Dear Local Gym...

I am glad, that you got my SO into your free fitness classes.

As a practitioner who's family has been involved in the arts which are martial for many a year, I actually thinks that it is cool that "cardio-kick" has enamored her of late.

However, when I roll over in the middle of the night with a bout of insomnia, go to smooch her cheek, and she cold cocks me with a hook at 3:30 in the morning on my jaw...Well...

I beg of you to not get her too warrior-ed up.


With much gratitude,

Me

I think...we can do...away...with X-Mas

Let's start today, friends. KOOL 108 aside, I think that there are a lot. A LOT of X-Mas songs that need to have found their way to the Dead Pool. Seriously. And not to knock at secular tunes that have been around for a minute. I mean really. Really. Let's look at songs "created" for the season to fill playlists and make ears bleed starting post-Thanksgiving up to and after December 25th. F#ck. After Hallowe'en, if you're being realistic.

I'll start:

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"- No it isn't. F#ck you. Today? It's cold. Painfully so. And the most wonderful day, for some of us, was the day we drank too much wine and watched TV on November 4th. "There'll be much mistletoe-ing" isn't even a sentence. It's douchey. And stop trying to created a beloved X-Mas song by being so damn commercial.

"Santa Claus is Coming to Town" (More specifically, by Frankie)- I love the guy. I do. He is unabashed in his Bacchanalian debauchery. His buddies. His crooning. But I don't feel like getting crooned to by a guy who is the face of debauch about "Naughty and Nice" when you know sure as f#ck he is on a 11 day bender at the Flamingo with 16 different show girls from the 60's version of "Follies Bergere". Moving on.

"Frosty the Snowman"- We hate snow. Even snow days suck. And even we, we hardy MN'ans get one. We get enough precipitation in October to cause the state of NC to declare a national emergency (true) that we don't need to know about anthropomorphic snow-douches in foppish top hats gaily striding about with their propaganda that global warming doesn't exist. And that's all you are, Mr. Frosty. Propaganda. And the name of a milkshake at Wendy's.

"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer"- Who. Gives. A. S#it... It's about the fat one, let's be real. If we cared about the workhorses, we should have ALL known the name of the Budweiser Clydesdales by now. Oh, you don't? EPIC FAIL! "You know Stoli, and Patron, and Mount Gay, and Got Blitzed..."

"Simply, Having, A wonderful..."Oh frack I can't finish. - Sir Paul? This Moog synth atrocity brings me so far back to evil that I want to punch the dash board. Boo. Boo, Boo, Boo, Boo. I cry. I thought you'd leave repetitive douchey tunes to George. ("I've got my mind set. On...Douche")

Any. Every. Country version of a X-mas song made. Sorry. They tend to sound alcoholic even if it is about the three Wise men. Same for pop stars doing covers. I hate to say it, but I like the warbly scratchy versions of the standards.

Grrrrrr.

Play more BNL and Sarah. "Bring a Torch". The Hallelujah Chorus. I'm no Scrooge, but crap all. It's my birthday. Easy present. Let's start to dissect the remnants.

I reserve the right...

To complain. This...weather? Hm, yes. Is bananas. Yeah, I live in an older house. Yeah, I take the prerequisite measures to stop draftiness. (Plastic on the windows, weather stripping, etc.) But I feel the cold like it was my job. Just looking outside? Makes me cold.


Couple that with the fact that my heater AND rear defrost in my my car makes me frassy...well I'm trolling jobs in the South. No joke. There is no WAY that in 10 years it has fallen below zero in December. What happened to this all happening in February? Sucktastic. Dying.

In other news, the loaner they gave me is Piiiiimptastic. An 88 Old's with a red interior that makes you feel like you're in the waiting room of a house of ill repute. I lurve it.

Saturday Close Captioning reveals Cartoon Deification

Sooooooo....



I'm at the gym.


Trying to get my workout out of the way to make way for...I don't know. Saturday stuff.

I don't own an IPOD or Shuffle or Shuffle off to Buffalo pod. I read the stupid Close Captioning. Deal.

Since we're both up at the crack of (10) and she's off cardio-kicking imaginary opponents and saying "Woo"! with the rest of the class.

I've finished my lifty mc-liftersons and have retired to the treadmill. Now, to para-phrase Mr. Leary I kinda do feel like a hamster in a wheel on the treadmill. I haven't owned a walkman (LUDDITE ALERT!) in ages. The last thing I had resembling sound producing head-gear was this wireless headset that looked like you were answering phones in the 50's and was the size of Princess Leia's hair in "Star Wars". Not fun. And it gave me a headache AND it'd bump channels every few blocks.

So I run silent. Adrift in my imagination. A bad place to be. Except I've discovered a few things about my club...

If I book it out of work, when I do. And if traffic is conducive- I can make it to stretch out, work my tummy, and watch "Jeopardy" on the treadmill villa Close Captioning. A fine pursuit, to be sure. You don't need sound. You watch the questions pop up, mutter the answer to yourself and either (A) curse inwardly if you get it wrong...stupid MENSA teen's...or (B) Try and time your prrt's in the vain hope that there is no one on the treadmill behind you.

What?

So on a Saturday A.M. I figure 'toons are all I need to let the world go and watch mindless 2-D animation whilst I program my routine for the next 3.2 miles. I've timed it PERFECTLY with NBC's newest venture: 3-2-1 PENGUIN!!! (It's like "3-2-1 Contact", right? Show's y'all my frame of reference)

The NEXT thing I know, is they're quoting the bible ("Remember what the good book says!") and the normal non-anthropomorphic character's are spouting ("Get ready for church, dear" and "Did you want to say our prayer's together?")

What?

I'm dubious I would've caught it if I hadn't been reading the text via close captioning. I thought "Where is the exploding coyote being pushed off the cliff by that rascally road-runner?" The doofy lisping hunter with the wily wabbit? Spider-man, and his AMAZING friends" Which is to say I have some amazing friends too, and can empathize with the wall-crawler.)

Then V-Tales came on. And besides being the bastard step-child of El Muppet-ino (Seriously. How MANY drugs must one be on to have vegetables give parables, wear clothes, and perform normal human tasks sans hands. And really, turn on the CC option on your TV and read the intro-song. It's drugs, people. People using drugs and eating vegan. Check it out.)


Although I felt warmly toward the asparagus with the yellow cardigan. I thought to myself: I wonder if his pee smells funny, or if the novelty is lost. Ponder, folks.


Anyway, I miss my blow'em up cartoons in lieu of this stupid Bob Ross inspired "happy" crappy. I don't wanna be a grumpy old man, but a world with grape soda caving in the walls ( "3-2-1 Penguins" distinguishing plot point) is nothing compared to "Thundarr", "Plastic Man", Super Friends", "Godzilla and Gadzookey" or cripes...even "Gummi Bears".


Ish.

Well, a fine mess

I'm awake.



I dreamt that there was a bee in my apartment I was sharing with Morgan Fairchild and when it lit on the floor I threw my body atop of it to squash it with my head. I heard it buzzing in my ear and roused myself awake with the feeling that it'd sting my inner ear. So here I am. 3 am-ish.

The moon I see is fat in the sky. Orion is shoulder-to-shoulder with it. And it is cold.

Not a very triumphant return to the blogging world, but here I am. I work in the fidouchery world, so it's been a really scary time to want bread on your table. My day to day blogs have had to be tabled in lieu of simple web surfing since my bosses (Or managers. Direct reports. Whatever) have been hovering to make sure I'm "productive". Three "bosses" in twelve months. Re-dick. All of whom have said they'd be there for the long haul. I should've known. At least they're still here. There've been many, MANY lay-offs (sorry. "Re-structures") in the last few months and it's provided a fellowship of fear. Not fun to be working.

So...

I've been tasked with taking forced time off ("Floating" holidays. MN branches of our office don't take normal sanctioned national holidays and we're given three "floaters" to take that aren't considered "time off") So Thursday marks "National Me Day 3"*. (Last Thursday being the official start of Me Day) I hope to blog some more and more over, write some more.

That's right. I don't hope to quit my day job, but I've recently been harboring a secret wish to write for a living. Creatively. Go fig. It started with a wish to pen my dad's memoirs about working for the county- which I've been nagging him for years to do- and made me think it would maybe make some great non-fiction ala' Sanderson. We'll see. It's some fascinating business, what 36 years policing our county will provide. I've been also experimenting with home cooking which falls in line with our troubled economic times (e.g. No restaurant reviews in the future)

All told, we're holding steady. And I hope to post more topical s#it as the days progress towards my birthday.

Oh yeah. The *? So I'll be posting my wish list later (In the vain hopes that the government wants to do a Baby P Bail Out some day) but for my birthday? Think of something nice for/about yourself. Just one. Real quick like. Or about me. (I'm a selfish Sammy) And either post it, or think it. It's no big whoop.

Hope to frass at you some more on my down time.



ps: I have a call back tonight. Think of me, frassers.

Sorry this took so long

And it's very concise-



Go Vote today please.

Dad tried to kill me...

Oh, forgot to tell you all this one. It is a dooze-


Dad's been wanting me to paint the garage door trim and a couple other area's of facia outside of his townhouse due to the association getting up in arms over some chipping. He assured me that it was only going to be 20 minutes worth of work (A very "dad" thing to say. Dad-time tends to stretch out a bit longer than his initial estimations, so I made the appropriate calculation's in my brain. 20 minutes ='s 4 hours. You need to account for the griping.) He also insisted that he needed my 26 foot extension ladder, which I didn't understand why since a platform or step ladder would have been just fine for the garage if my memory served correctly. I can't remember the architecture of their TH specifically, and the way he was describing it was impossible for me to understand where exactly we were going to be painting. I just figured it was close to terra firma.

Oh no.

He wanted me up on the roof to reach the facia and HE would do the garage door trim. He was sure that I could get up on the roof, scramble up to the top story and lean over the side to paint it. (On the peak, so there really isn't a place to "lay" down. The peak looks like this and is about as steep- " /\ "and I would be at the point. Dig?)

I balked and said no.

He then extended the ladder the full length and precariously set it on the top most gable over the entryway, which is about 26 ft up so now he's playing to my fear of falling. To make things better and to make sure that the tips are not too low-he sets it next to a paper wasp nest. (Fear of wasps is met as well. And you know, it's Fall, so they're aggressive due to temperature changes. I watch two furiously flying at each other and sting at the same time. Exxxxcellent) I ask for the wasp spray-("NO! You'll stain the siding!!!") I ask for the paint bucket to carry up with me. ("NO! You'll spill it on the way up!!! I'll bring it to you") So I tentatively crawl up the ladder, which is shaking and bowing in as extension ladders are wont to do when they are at full extension. Dad's below me shouting encouragement, cajoling, and lastly outright insults. ("What the hell, Kiddo?!?! You used to climb all the time when you were a kid!?!?")

When he follows me up the ladder (And my old man is big. The ladder is rated for 300 lbs. And every rung he takes causes the ladder to shake violently... while I'm 26 feet in the air.) with the paint, then down, then back up the brush. All while wasps are periodically lighting on my face. I take a deep breath decide not to focus on where I was and let my mind go. I see the giant decorative window and figure if the ladder (which is only barely leaning against the trim) I'm going through that sucker. Deep breath number two and I start painting.

I succeed in painting myself into the gable before returning to terra firma. I refrained from kissing the asphalt) Next, he wants me up on the garage roof to paint the small chipped fascia at the peak. He's trying to be all MacGuyver about it ("I could set up one ladder, then set up the other one on top of it like an upside down "L" and I'll sit on it for counter balance"- Me: "F#ck no")

Then he just sends me up there, assuring me that my grip would be fine. Except it wasn't. I was clinging on to the roofing with my knee's locked and I could barely shimmy up. I couldn't get three points contacting the roof while holding the paint and my shoes were doing nothing to propel me forward. I felt my body slide back and I locked my legs tighter, feeling the skin on my inner knee, palms, and elbows abrasing. Tummy too.

I tried one last valiant attempt at going forward when my shoe kicked into air and had no traction, aaaaand I slid down towards the side of the roof but finally stopped myself on the gutter with my foot and shouted "F#ck this" and got back down. The first thing my Dad said was to watch my language, then asked if I damaged the gutter, and finally he hoped that I didn't spill any paint on the shingles. My stomach was in knots, I could feel blood seeping through my sweatpants, and I wanted to kick him in the shins. And then he said- "Okay. We're done for today"

Anyway, it kind of got me over my fear of falling. And wasps. We were cooling down in the back yard and yellowjackets were lighting on me and my glass of wine and I was like "meh".

Fear is the mindkiller.

The I.V's, take 4

2005
2006
2007





2008
This year I did it right. I went with the good Torcher folks so that I actually had a theatre company to sit with. (Rather than we dolefully sit in back making the occasional snarky comment and nipping from our flasks) We hit Solera before hand, then skidaddled over to the theatro for the actual shindig. And it was okay. Thoughts? (Opinions, please)

Buddy...you were so right to wear the hipster pop culture-y t-shirt and tux this year versus full out formal wear/dress suit. Sure, you're about 10 years out of date with the look and you own 6 or 7 tux coats...but f#ck that. You at least could maintain a modicum of cool when it was a veritable sauna (again) inside.

Hosts...quit talking about yourself. And your show. You're from LA and NY respectively. The TC has to have some representation.

Again, we enjoyed 25% of the acts. The remaining 75% caused hand holding, squinting, flask groping, eye rolls, sidelong glances, runny nose, fever, and erectile dysfunction. Per normal, BNW puts out the most crowd pleasing act. Thank you. And thank you Dudley Riggs.

The kids...at least they relegated the kids act to one this year. But still...it was the finale' and it was from a show that...aw f#ck it...I left so I could beat the rabble to the after party. Moda...she...she didn't make it...I couldn't...I couldn't save her.

The faux paparazzi? Ugh. I get that they're trying to create this glamorous atmosphere but really? We're stage actors. We usually make a pittance and not 7 figure contracts plus residuals and a percentage of the gross. And it reminded me of this gig. http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2008/03/huh.html
And seriously, dude? Take the lens cap off your prop camera.

The models...the f#cking modelling show. Can we...ugh. Can we not do that next year? 4 years running it has been the LEAST favorite part of the after party. It leaves everyone with a bad taste in their mouths and pumps the breaks on the evening.




Otherwise...I love dressing up for this thing. I love hanging out with the TC Theatre community. Hanging with folks who have the mutual sense of purpose. Of desire to create. (Poncey little git, aren'tcha P?) Of the hugs, kisses, and smartness which is (We) who brought our flasks in lieu of buying pricey cocktails ($5.50 for tonic and a diet coke? Sorry, nope. Think if there was actually BOOZE in them?)

And the afterparty at Moda's? Kicked ass. And Gremlin? F#ck yes. I screamed. We all did.

Snicker...

Time to dust off the old HS letter jacket and tuxedo t-shirt...I'm done paid up for my 15 year reunion.

Pip!!!

Fairy Godmothe...what?

2 events (3 if my first foray into making veggie hardshell taco's counts as "An Event")

1- We checked off Ren Fest on our to-do list of summer activities (Thanks to Turtle and Smudge for the comps) It made for a lovely day where we basically traipsed around drinking, eating, and futzing through the shops for the afternoon. By EOD, the shared food tally between the two of us was: Fish and Chips, Wild Rice Soup in a Bread Bowl, Caramel/Apple Ice Cream, Gyro, and several wines/beers/1 mead (Meh). Moda walked away with some awfully pretty pottery for their new kitchen. We ended up ki-boshing trying to hike the trail adjacent to the fest in lieu of a nap (We were tired Tina's) and later in the day we were able to put down the aforementioned taco's and a little BSG before bed.

2-The baptism...That's right, the royal niece had her day in church on Sunday. We lingered, took pictures, and as I sat with the co-Godfather (My bro-in-law) the Priest was giving the candle and smock to us and casually stated that usually the Godfather gets the candle and GodMOTHER gets the smock so we could fight over who gets what.

Oh.

Then it was off for family time and cooing over Lil'Z and Claire the Bear before skidaddling home.

Thoughts on the ceremony.
- The priest looked like a mix between Lou Dobbs and Lee Iacocca.
-He talked like Ben Stein's character in "Ferris Bueller"
-We should have more in the say of how we end a prayer or liturgy. Like instead of "Amen" say "F#ck YEAH!!!"
-I will never sit by my dad again. I was frassin' w/Co-GF and we were joking around yadda yadda when my dad elbows me and whispers "YOU NEED TO RAISE YOUR HAND TOO!!!" so I start to raise my hand while I see the priest is doing it too when I glance around and see that NO ONE ELSE IS DOING IT...I quickly lower my hand and throw dad the stink eye as he's laaaaaughing.

I'm gonna be sent to hell...

Food...The thing that brings the inner d-wad out...

So we picked some mondo sized eggplants from Vietnam last night (I've dubbed them "Fat Man and Little Boy" due to their size and shape. They're HUGE) and as we were looking at out bounty it occurred to me that I haven't the foggiest idea of what the frack to do with them.

I've enjoyed Buca's eggplant parmigiana in the past (I have 3 dishes there that I insist the group orders to share and that's one of them...the other two being the lemon chicken with capers and garlic bread) and I've had it made for me from scratch which sort of put me off of it. (Dinner party. Everything was from scratch, including the sauce which I abhorred)

So it was off to Epicurious to see what they had to say on the matter. The recipe seemed pretty simple ( I only had to look up the term "dredging" as it relates to cooking...which is to say the same as it means any where else would I had trusted the context of the recipe...durrrrrrr) and curiousity led me to the review pages...where I discovered that recipe submitters and suggester's are mildly snooty a$$holes. (My apologies to the Garden of Olive. You aren't a bad place, per se. You're just kind of chain-y. And cheesey. But I kind of think that this was mean spirited for mean's sake)

A cook from MA says:
"This is a simple and great recipe; those who didn't think it compared with the Olive Garden perhaps could try this."

A cook from NY replies:
"If Olive Garden is your point of favorable comparison, you might want to get out of the Italian food business altogether."


Harsh...

Hmmm...

Just watched the RNC hullabaloo last night. I tell ya, nothing makes my least favorite chore (folding laundry) go by faster than listen to a bunch of BS on how we've made significant progress in Iraq...


ps: So they kept showing W's old man and his mom. Is it just me, or hasn't she been like...87 years old...for the last 20 years?

Great Weekend everyone!

It was a globorious laborious day weekend...one where I didn't go kite boarding and nearly break my knee in the process... coughcoughMDcoughcough (Holy s#it, Doc. Are you for real? That's my ultimate nightmare, yo.)

Friday- I Fair'ed it. And it was glorious. AL, the gay burrito, and m'self headed out mid-morning for the festivities. We did the things you do, including my visit to the Eco Building to see that stupid little skit I shot last year. (Royalties? Hello? I cry bulls#it.) It grew hot during the day, so much so that it almost became heavy and oppressive. We were done by 2:45 or so and I headed back for the day where basically I came off of a gnarly case of sunstroke before proceeding to my "playing house" at Moda's new joint. It was kinda sad that we didn't do the grandstand vendors or any booths (Curmudgeonly McDickhead was adamant about avoiding the shops) so goes an era...

Total food eaten: Deep-Fried Turkey Sammich, nabbed a few deep-fried pickle chips, 1.5 foot Pronto Pup, 4 Sweet Martha's cookies, a bite of steak sandwich (avoid), 3 pieces of cheese curd, 1.5 small beers (I couldn't finish'em. Boo for alcohol abuse) and a shared plate of the Australian Batter-fried potatoes. (Overrated and messy. This is what put me over the edge of sanity)

Caturday was more jogging and lounging (bliss) followed by seeing "Baby J" again and laughing my a$$ off again followed by post-show partying. By the EOD, we were tiiiiiiired. At least we didn't go to BJ's..

Sunday was Hike Day. We ate a big brefkist and then scooted out to Elm Creek Park Reserve where we got lost and had to ask a stoner park employee how to find the Monarch Trail (No lie, honest quote: "Um...I don't really look at maps") After that it was naps and a festive dinner before retiring to the new Casa Del MoBri and chilling on the porch. We got antsy, and decided to check out some of the neighborhood bars, which consisted of walking in. Turning our heads left and right. And leaving. Yeah.

Annnnd, Monday was hot. Muggy Hot. So we spent the afternoon relaxing at Redwrights in the BBP with buddies. (The Bean even came out to play) Amazing food was had (I must have eaten a gogol of crab stuffed mushrooms and half a wheel of cheese and carmelized onions)...needless to say it was great, I spent the night awake pretty much all night long sweating away my indiscretions...and was unhappy at the prospect of returning to the office.

Waxing Scientifically Nostalgic

I caught the "SW" exhibit at the SMM the other night and boy howdy did it inspire my inner geek. Mega cool, it was, to see the land speeder (which I wanted to sit in) and the other various props/models from the original trilogy. Then we were over to the Omni (always a good time) to watch "Special Effects" which proved to be a grand spectacle.


But here's where I'm gonna raise my flag as one of the few detractor's of the exhibit and the SMM in general since they've moved. (My ma, who was my date, pointed out one that my old man brought up)

1- The lady at the ticket booth said "Allow for at least 90 minutes for the exhibit" and I was all like "Yeah! They've gotta have a TON of s#it!". When in all actuality it was probably closer to half to 1/3 of the exhibit was dedicated to the actual films and the rest was interactive games for kids and adults ( hint hint...kids) to play with mechanical devices inspired by the movies! ("Make the robot walk! Build YOUR own robot from these unrelated scraps! SHOOT the ping pong ball with forced air! LOOK at this beam of light with dust in it!" I assume that last one was to emulate the lightsaber effect. And is it really such a chore to get an adult sized compressed-air hover chair? Height restrictions my Aunt Tilly...) I'm just sayin' more Star Wars, less gimmick.

2- I missed the 2000 exhibit at MIA when it first came 'round (A tragic day to be sure. It was a rainy day, sold out, and forced my big brother and I to partake in beers from Chili's and the movie "MI: 2". Not a good substitute.) point being, they only were probably able to dredge up a minute amount of dreck from the prequels (Eps 2 & 3 having not been released) Anyway, it had some great propage, yeah, but would it have killed them to have Luke's Ep 6 costume? An X-Wing Pilot suit? Obi-Wan's distressed Ep 4 costume? Heck, Darth Maul woulda been all right...

3- More. Lightsabers. From. Original. Trilogy. No Luke. No Darth Vader. No Obi-Wan. No Luke 2. They had frickin Shaak Ti or someone...f#ck. I don't know. I'm betting dollars to tacos that the prop storage at the ranch has a hell of a lot more coolness to show than just the prequels.

4- I think I caught a goof. If I'm not mistaken, Luke had the top of his hand shot in "Jedi" and they said it was from "Empire". Oooooooo...Geek.

5- The Toy Store at the end was...a little much. There were sc-REAMING pampies that were being dragged out by their heels, by their folks (Clutching at action figures and demanding purchase immediately) It seemed to be the pinnacle of make-a-buckmanship and left a bad taste in my mouth. Moreso because the decided to toss more toys in the Imagination store. C'mon...

6- Instead of a stupid photo-shop your face on your favorite SW character scene that you can find at the State Fair or WI Dells, why not have "Get a Photo" in a replica Millennium Falcon cockpit or Landspeeder. Everything related to the actual films was so hands off that it felt like I'd have been better off watching the movies at home with a toy lightsaber. I'm pretty sure that the ILM can build a decent practical prop on the cheap.

7- Boba Fett? Where's Boba Fett? You coulda rebuilt or just re-dyed Jango and we'd be none the wiser.

8- The Omni film. Yeah. It was okay. I just thought a film with that title would have had more recent information than just 1997. Seriously. It was a 10 year old film. It woulda been cool-ER in 1998...but still. We've had s#it like "The Matrix" since then.

9- General Gripe-vous with the new SMM in general...

Do y'all remember the old (Well, according to the SMM History room "Old since 1978") SMM? It was more...museum-y. And this is where my previous comment via my dad comes in- It's now more of a kids museum. And while I understand the need to stimulate and bring in new audiences, the old museum fit that bill just fine. They had the mock-ups of a Mayan Village complete with stone for grinding corn that you could play with. The Egyptian section was treated with reverie instead of being relegated to the "History of the SMM" walk-through where it's displayed as an anachronistic icon of the "Old" SMM. There were pins you could stick your hands into to make shapes. Robot arms to pick up pieces of foam (AND THE BIG ARM!)

I mean...is it so wrong to want a museum that blends science and history together that doesn't pander? Chicago has one...they're close...

10- Get rid of those musical stairs. Headache. Central. And the m@sturb@tory pump-action golf ball game that attracts 13-15 year old boys to pump-pump-pump FIRE accompanied by "YEEEEAHS!!!" and high fives...well, great game to put in the cafeteria.


Anyway.


I liked the history of the SMM section, seeing the real "Vader" costume (Dang. He was a big dude in real life) the Millennium Falcon prop (The details, you know?) and the dinosaurs. ( I coulda lived without the beetles that clean the bones of dead animals exhibit) And the next Omni film is "Mystery of the Great Lakes" which looked hecka cool. (I can has date?)

End. Rant.

This...

Is not a day to be at work. This is a day to be sleeping in. To get the occasional flash of light behind closed eyes before the distance boomies go off. To have kitteh nestled in the crook of your arm. To be shut down for a little while. I live for mornings like this.

I think that 2008 is the year of meteorological hindsight rearing it's ugly head. I've lost count as to how many foul ups have occurred regarding mis-forecasting the daily weather, as well as how many plans have had to be abended due to inclement weather. In the morning "Looks like rain!" and by the evening "It was a BEautiful day in the Twin Cities..."

My lawn desperately needs it.

Yee-Haw

I told you so...

See? SEE?!!?!? I told you that social networking is messed up! As are some pet owners...

http://www.startribune.com/lifestyle/pets/26331279.html?elr=KArksUUUU


doggyspace, btw...Sounds strangely like a bestial fetishests website.

By the skin of our teeth

So you know the old addage: "Where's a cop when you need'em"? That describes this morning. Except they were there. Get this, fellow assertive drivers...

So I confess that I drive 5-10 miles over the speed limit. It's true. If you had the learner's permit instructors of my dad and big brother (Who's only mantra when teaching was "Don't drive like me...") you'd be an assertive driver too. With all the tricks, like...watching the light change out of your peripheral vision so you start to go before you get your green light. Or forearmed with the knowledge that county mounties won't tag you if you are at 8-10 miles over on the freeway or 5 miles over on the back streets. Or to slow down when on the freeway when you are coming around a blind section b/c that's where the fuzz will be parked with their radar guns pointed right atcha...all that jazz.

So imagine me, putzing along 94 EB on my way to work. Flying about 68 mph. Listening to the banter on the Current. In the speed lane. And someone behind me is barrelling up to my tail like a bat outta hell. I move over, like a good commuter, to let the a$$hole passhole. I look over at them and they are talking on a cellphone. I reiterate verbally my assertion that the individual is, in fact, very similar to a rectum- As they tear a$$ past me going (I'd guess) 85 mph.

That's when I see the state trooper parked by the upcoming exit ramp.

So I, like the rest of the world and traffic, slow waaaay the EFF down as did Mr.D-bag on the cell...when the county mountie pulls out (just as I pass, btw) passes me, and flips his cherries on. Behind the d-bag. Eventually pulling him over.

I wonder how he ended his conversation?

CARL!!!

Yeah, it's blurry...but that's cuz I just got finished KICKING NINJA A$$!!!

Excuse me.

So yeah, that ugly looking thing is now history now that the Con is over. I gotta say, I won't miss it even though Moda seemed to think it was sexy...(WTF) Man...Do yourselves a favor and hit one of these con's. I was kind of nervous/self-conscious walking in. Imagine that guy up there...feathered back hair, handle-bar redneck 'stache, big glasses, "Army of One" t-shirt tucked into camo pants, all-white tennis shoes, and a weight belt. Yeah. Color me dorkus.

Well sshhheeeeeeoot. The rest of the time I was stifling laughter. These people are SERIOUS. I mean...I just...I can't even begin to describe it. People dressed like Vampire Hunter D. People dressed like Sailor Moon. People dressed as Robotech Veri-fighters. People walking around with what I can only describe as 8 foot, "swords"? People that clearly put a s#it-ton of time (and money) into their costumes. I was doubly impressed and weirded out at the same time.

The bit itself went fine. I ad-libbed probably 95% of it, which for me means letting my mouth go until something is supposed to happen. No one was hurt. We had about150 odd (and oddly dressed) attendee's who actually sat through it. And I sweat through my outfit like it was my job. Wowsers.

The next group in the room was a kendo (legit) school doing a demo. I'd have liked to stay for that.

But thank goodness that is over. Hoooo boy...

In other news...CON'DDDD

Mattso slipped me some roofies and convinced me that working a staged comedy ninja demo here would be a pretty good idea. Ergo, I will be spending this sunny and hot Caturday afternoon milling about with anime' enthusiast's and the invariable indoor kid. I'm sure that at least a few of the participants will have beaten their own high scores playing Guitar Hero at least three times the morning before attending.

I kid.

Actually, I'm kinda anxious/curious about the con as a whole. The last fan convention that I attended was back at the "Dr. Who" con that was held at the Mpls. Armory back in 1986. (I went as the 5th Doctor, thankyouverymuch...I did not get Colin Baker or Patrick Troughton's-RIP-autograph.) Sci-Fi or Comic Con's I'd fare better at, since my frame of reference for Anime' is pretty much vague memories of watching "Robotech" and "Voltron" when I was a kid.

Soooooo, it'll be interesting to say the least. Heh...

Oh, I'm playing this guy, btw (It's a character description, you ya-yo's)... My plan is to have my feathered 1992 poofy hair (sans mullet. No time to get a mullet extension either) and a handlebar 'stache as an homage to my friend Chad G. The only real thing I'm concerned about is riffing in front of a group of con attendee's who either will, or will not be expecting some semblance of "real" martial arts. (Of which there really won't be. I'll post pics and explain the gig later) Anyway, we're making each other laugh which tends to be a pretty good sign. And so far only 72% of my jokes have clunked. Which means that I'll end up talking fast and make poop jokes. It will be glooooorious.


If you have absolutely nothing to do and want a social experiment, you should attend. IJS.

FRINGE'DDDDD

That's right, bitca's! The 2008 Minneapolis Fringe Festival is in full swing, and if you love theater then you owe it to yourself to turn off "So You Think You Can Frass", drag your butts outside, and take in some shows! But first, I must turn your attention to some peemping:

No Refunds Theatre Company is re-mounting their fall show which had a successful run at the Bryant-Lake Bowl: "Sun Tzu's The Art of War". Come see yours truly and the rest of the ninja's as we tell the tale of war and strategy, and it's relevance to today's current events. There is also a Mambo. (Seriously, this is a really funny show that I am most proud of) More information is available at: http://info.norefundstheatre.com/?page_id=3

See a endorsement with an attached online review here:

http://www.tcdailyplanet.net/blog-entry/2008/07/18/fringe-top-10-2-no-refunds-theatre-co.html#

See Mattso Boomer's and Mr. Charlie's (The writers) Interview on MPR:

http://minnesota.publicradio.org/display/web/2008/07/30/fringefestivalturns15/

(btw- It isn't bad kung fu. Clearly they haven't seen the show yet. hiiiiiYA)

Or, check out the Fringe Festival show selection (For there are many, many good looking shows this year) at: http://www.fringefestival.org/2008/schedule/

Go now! Rarig! Opening Sunday night! Your stupid will turn to smart!!!

Frassbook...

In my interest of only being a part-time luddite, I started joining "social networking" sites about 2 years ago. (Blogger notwithstanding...that was originally started to frass about homebonership...LJ was for personal frass, and then I was reminded that everyone and their kitteh was on Myfrass, Frasster, and the newest: Frassbook)

So I joined, joining the millions of folks who enjoy keeping tabs on their buddies or simply like to measure their status based on the number of peeps they can "friend". (As a testament to my inability to touch these sites at work, I've narrowed down my daily visits to Frassbook and Myfrass...Frasster comes in dead a$$ last)

So weird things happen on these places, adding fuel to my normal luddite tecknolojickal feerz...


1st- I've been "found" by a number of peeps in my youth. Meaning, waaaaaay back childhood. Like, folks who were infants when I moved out of my home the first time back in 1993- Founded me. Not to mention old S.O.'s who have moved on and started families on their own. Like I said...weird.

2nd- Someone threw a sheep at me.

Wait...Okay, so yeah I get it. First you get "poked" (which, for some reason, illicits laughs from yours truly b/c I always turn it into a double entendre. It's a high school joke that...nevermind) So "Suzy Q has poked you! Poke her back!" or "Bill Pants wants you to join the group 'If you mix 'Star Wars' and 'The Grapes of Wrath' you will have a recipe for greatness!"... So you get my point. I've been poked, prodded, scratched, spat on...I half expect to log in and have it say "Tom R. peed in your fridge! Did you want to pee in his tureen?" And the groups! "So and So just joined 'Watching Rocky Balboa makes me want to take on the world!'" or "Blah de Bloo just joined 'Zombie Fetishest's are Misunderstood"...

Right.

And then some MF threw a sheep at me.

Sometimes teh interwebz gets a little to weird for even me.

You know you're getting old when...

You're getting your hair cut and the stylist starts tugging on a fine clear hair growing OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF YOUR FOREHEAD!!! (I said that I was going through my unicorn phase) I asked her kindly to leave it be but it was all like "Nooooo, no I'll get it!" Like she was doing me a favor.

And then she asked if I'd like my white eyebrow hairs plucked. (PAI MEI...I AM IT!) I drew the line, citing that they made me look wise.

Grump.

SPEAKING of old, I'd like to wish a happy belated bloggy berfday to my big brother: RSVP! I spent Sunday (his actual B'day) at his place chasing my nephew (Who is now ambulatory, able to reason, and enjoys running full tilt with his x-foils locked in attack position), my parents dog, and eating grilled goodness. Awesome. I usually note his birthday with some embarrassing story, but really...what's there to say about a guy who was run over by a bus when he was in senior high?

And if I had a scanner, I'd post a picture of him posing in his mesh crop-top shirt. Boo-ya.

All new old Theater Room!

Oh. That story? The one you ALL read? (Re: The live-action recitive of the first 10 minutes of the movie "Ghostbusters" for my captive elementary school audience a few weeks ago?)

Garnered me this.

Apparently, the G-ma was very appreciative of my efforts.

(Pats self on back)

Now if I can appreciate someone into a new garage, I'll consider myself a theatrical unqualified success.

party times deux...

Here...are some pics. (Of the 'Bean's daughters marriage party and of FeeJ's b'day jamboree!)


#1- Towards the end of night two (Out of order'd!!!) After gale force winds forced us to knock down the backyard tents and embed them into the ground. Otherwise, they may have ended up in Oz.

#2- There's a story behind that one. Let's just say that I hit a wall mid-way through the birthday festivities mid-grillin' and said "Moda...if I don't lay down right now I won't come back"

#3- Grillin', whilst the Bean supervises

#4- Griller's SMASH! (shortly before having to abandon the grill in order to video tape the toast/polka)

Weirdo

So last weekend I hosted the two back to back parteh's (The 'Bean's Daughter Wedding Jamboree and FeeJ's Nordeast Birfday Bonanza) They were both pretty fun (In spite of burning my frickin' finger on the grill during the former, and a hurricane nearly sailing away the party tents at the latter) The Bean had warned me that there would be a couple of wee pampies coming over (code for: Hide the p0rno and the action figures in the tv room) and to be ready.

We as soon as I was introduced to the brother and sister pair, I knew I was in trouble. The brother was mega-ADHD. Mega. And I was "Batman" to him. All. Night. Long. ("Batman, Batman...we, uh, gotta stop Jokuh!" and "Batman, Batman...can I see your TV Room?" I'm blaming him for tugging on my arm causing me to drop the burger on the grill and giving me a blister.) His sister was the shy one. Hardly a word spoken. So after asking him to chill while I served food and played host, I promised I'd show him some cool stuff upstairs in the TV- IF he behaved.

So after everything had wound down and folks were leaving, Young man did not forget my promise (After having reminded me no less than 23 times) so he and his gramma and his sister walked with me to the promised land: The fabled TV room.

Now I'm pretty proud of myself. I was able to gussy it up so that it looked a little more TV roomish (Cleaning out the closet. Hanging Framed musical/movie soundtrack lp's all over the wall instead of 2 lonely ones off kilter. Making an accomplishment wall) As the three of them stood there looking at pictures, and after I showed young man and sister a Spider Man mask, Darth Vader's helmet, and a lightsaber...His sister points at the center album and says- "What's that?"
"What's what?"
(Gramma chimes in authoritatively) "You can read those words, sweetheart"
"Ghost. Busters. What's that?"
(Moi) "Only the single greatest movie that has ever been made...ever"
"Why?"
"Why? (Scoffs indignantly) Well it's cool from the first, like, 2 seconds! I mean..."

It's here where I proceed to play out the first 5-10 minutes of the movie (Basically a paraphrased recitive of the library scene- Complete with taking books off my shelf and spookily moving them behind my head to simulate paranormal activity. I'm a cave man)

It was kinda cool though, actually. The kid, for once, didn't utter a peep. And they both had the google-eyed look of two kids hearing a ghost story at camp. Gramma was amused, although I'm pretty sure she was just relieved that I didn't have p0rn lying around, and it was an actual Spider Man mask vs. say a "Gimp" zipper mask.

Finally, Sister sez: "Is it scary?"
"Kinda. But it's funny too. Really funny. And if you can laugh at what's scaring you-"
(Kid finally regains his ADHD Interuptus composure) "It ain't SCARY any more!!!"

"That's right"

Then I showed them both how to properly hold a lightsaber so that they didn't hit the ceiling fan when they swung it over their heads. Gramma gave the "Time to go" signal and they were marched back downstairs. Before showing them the door, she turned around and said "Thank You."

Cool.

And I crap you negative, I was so frickin' tired by the end of the night. Oof. Da.

Crime against active cultures

I'm always able to find my yogurt in the fridge here at work, in spite of around 6 other yogurts that are the same brand/container. Why?

Because all those other sucka's bring in the worst flavors in creation. Yo-play market research team has me questioning why they'd even invent those flavors in the first place. In short, the following flavors should be banned:

Key Lime, Peach, Lemon, Apricot, Cheesecake, Raspberry, Chocolate Cake, and Mocha.


Of course, then everyone would be eating Vanilla, Very Cherry, Mixed Berry, Blueberry (and sometimes if I miss-grab: Strawberry. Which is still pretty bland) and I would probably wind up eating some other poor bastards yogurt by mistake. Major cafeteria foul, that. Like the time someone bogarted my diet Coke. Which has now prompted me to open the bottle and take a swig before storing it in the fridge.



And this wins the award for the lamest blog, ever.

RIP Stan Winston

Well that sucks. I didn't even know he was sick. A guy whose award winning make-up and practical effects artistry was part and parcel to some of the coolest films of my childhood (Terminator, Monster Squad...heck even more recently with Iron Man just to name a few)

It's pretty knee-jerk for me to say I wanted to start acting because of Star Wars. (When it was actually my mom encouraging me to try out for the 9th grade play and there were some really really cute girls auditioning) We role played like a lot of kids, but the thing we really liked to do was get into the characters. Dressing up of course was the easy part. But as I got older, my taste kinda shifted into scary monsters.

Mom did make-up/props for the Park and Rec as well as some local community theatre productions. Sometimes it was a clown face-painting class. Other times it was during "theme" days during the summer programs. I'll never forget (and still probably have) the dog-eared copy of Dick Smith's (Make-Up designer for "The Exorcist" and "Altered States") "Do-it-Yourself" Monster Make-up. It talked about grease paint, and crepe hair. It had the pictures that started with normal looking kids and after slicking back one's hair and painting a black upside down triangle at your forehead scalp line, putting on lipstick and a little fake blood made you a vampire.

In my early teens, I was experimenting with facial hair and gel masks. I was reading about Universal Monster films, Hammer Horror, watching Freddy's/Jason's/Leatherfaces in their original stories tear up the screen. I read Fangoria. I learned about Lon Chaney Srs "low-tech" approach to special effects. I learned about Jack Pierce- the original Make Up celebrity- responsible for Karloff's Frankenstein's Monster and Chaney Jrs Wolf-Man.

I tried to emulate their work. I futzed with spirit gum and crepe hair with less than spectacular results. I used a brown paper bag and paint to try and make Frankenstein's flat top work. I fashioned a gaping head-wound from a styrofoam plate and crepe hair. Fake skin. Pointed tooth caps. I started learning about the contemporary FX teams. Rick Baker (the First person to win an Academy Award for Special Effects for "American Werewolf in London") Tom Savini, and of course:

Stan Winston

Here was a guy who loved Harryhausen (As is evident in the final scene in Terminator when they're getting chased by the stop-motion Termy through the factory) A guy who eschewed CGI when CGI was getting popular. A guy who wins multiple Academy Awards for making the big named hubba-bubba's look cool.

No. I think I wanted to be an actor because it gave me a chance to work with make up and effects. I thought it'd be cool to be the guy sitting in the chair while a plaster mold was made of my face so that they could make appliances that fit my face specifically. To sit down in a chair while those special FX were applied and my eyes are closed, only to open them and find someone completely different staring back. I had the utmost respect for those folks. And we've just lost one of the great ones.

Have I drank some poison of which I did not know?

Sick. Tummy Sick.


I'm not ruling out poisoning. But with my recent spate of health maladies I'm gonna sniff everything I put in my mouth.

This sucks. And I have a considerable amount of stuff to do.


F#ck. I hate throwing up.

I would also like to add that a healthy continuence of nibbles in the form of gourmet waffles, asparagus, cheese, and crackers (And beer) assisted in the aforementioned venture.

Thank you dear.

Done and Done

PORCH'DDD

This project has been a thorn in my side since I moved in. It started with someone's general hatred of the carpet, followed by tearing it up, followed by multi-tasking (Homeowner mistake number 1- Don't work on multiple things at once. I think I ponied this job up with cutting and laying the brickwork patio out back) followed by stripping the gawdawful wood, followed by dismantling the existing Pergo on a dance floor, followed by discovering it only covered 1/4th of the floor...followed by 2 years of sitting on it.

Then Daddyo and RSVP came over last fall where we made the discovery that "Hey...they discontinued this brand of Pergo!") And we waited through the winter. And now that the 'Bean's daughter is getting hitched party is at mi casa, I needed to pretty her up. So I hauled a new darker pergo in to help mask the eventual dusting. Turns out, new pergo has the foam backing already attached so we had to take up the existing foam I layed down last fall.

6 hours, three sweaty P men, and a whole boat load of cursing later- Done'd.

Sooooo...if anyone has a line on some nice wicker furniture, and a matching area carpet/runner that would "really tie the room together"...find me.


ps: I also repaired and painted the picnic table out back. It's a nice, rich colonial red. But I've been fighting my wabi sabi hankering to splatter different paints on it ala' Jackson Pollack.

Long time no post...

"Oh. Hai. Ur homez urly! Itz not whut youz tink, rlly!!!"


Sigh.

Last night he tried to steal my soul in my sleep. For real. I woke up and he was curled up by my head, face right in mine, sucking out my soul through my nose.