Junkie Whores

I have learned...

You dont motivate your top performers by cutting their incomes $1000 a month.  Especially after they just heard stories about what happens when you pour concrete down the pipes of a home.

My New Favorite Website

I would eat 90% of these dishes. 

http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/

Back on the Smack

My name is Chuck and Linda got me addicted to the Ask Rosie section of Rosie.com.  I am so hooked on Rosie's smack that I check it 3-4 times a day for the updates.  I'll be posting some of the questions and her responses here to help explain my new addiction.

BTW, I'm back on the Diet Coke.  Full On.  Anyway,  we'll start with my favorite from several weeks ago. This was the first hit that started my cravings.

JP writes:

Hey Roside, why aren’t you getting your head out your butt and be more sensitive to Asian-Americans.Don’t post this message and see how you are hiding your true facade.You suck and need to get off tv.

go fuck urself jp

Delicious.

Holidaze Shaken not Stirred

I've been lazy, bored, bizzy, dizzy and basically uninspired to write or post or imagine.  Trying to make a living sent me into a depressive tailspin combined with the holidays and birthdays and eating and eating and then more and more time just kept getting eaten away and then I blinked and it was February 1rst 2007.

But I am going to rededicate myself to entertaining myself because no one else can make me laugh like I can.  I heart me.  My goal is 3 new posts a week.  Starting now.

Happy Turkey Day!

GOBBLE, GOBBLE

Stop Me Before I Stop Myself!

I hit rock bottom recently and had to confront my addiction.  It's been going on since I was 14 years old.  It is worse than my daily need for heroin. It was destroying my life and the lives of everyone around me.  I was hooked on the Diet Coke.  Not inferior Pepsi or inferior Pepsi related products.  Diet Coke.  Only for the hardcore. 

My original plan was to stop drinking Diet Coke completely.  I had good intentions.  The desire to quit had been building for some time.  I heard the science.  But I'm not a scientist.  I'm a singer and a dancer so what did it matter to me?  Jeezus whispered it's sins in my ear one night during an erotic dream (Not with Jeezus mind you...with Judas.  Jeezus just likes to watch).  But Jeezus is long dead and from a different time; so why do I care what he thinks?  But then I read an internet post.  It was compelling.  I found out it was really bad for me; that it's made of substances not found in the natural world and that it can be used to clean battery terminals and clear clogged drains.  Who knew?  Jeezus didn't mention any of that.

So my choice was clear and I began preparations to quit by slowing my intake.  I stopped buying 2 liters.  A 2 liter might last me about 2 days.  Then I stopped buying cans; even if they were on sale.  I usually had a can in the morning and at random in the afternoon or with dinner (on top of the 2 liter and huge 44oz fountain bucket)  I preferred the cans to the plastic bottles because they were always much colder. And being a connoisseur of the cold beverage, I can tell you a few degrees makes a huge difference.  Then I was slowly down to the 44 oz fountain soda.  1-2 a day.  Then, Tuesday November 14 2006 I stopped buying my fo'ty.  I just knew I would feel instantly better, want to workout more and maybe I would finally take up jogging or sign up for that glass blowing class at JU.

By day 5, I noticed no change.  No real cravings.  I felt the same way as before.  I had just quadrupled my water intake is all.  Was that my triumph?  To be soggy?  What a let down.  So for Sunday lunch brunch, I had 3 glasses of diet soda to retaliate against my body for not providing a new high to replace my diet cola intake.  The sodas hit the spot but I didn't feel the expected need to run out and buy the 2 liter.  And today, I bought my beloved Bucket O'DCoke.  Just for fun.  It was like hugging and old friend that I never wanted to see again. 

So it seems I can take it or leave it.  I feel randomly indifferent to it which is no where near as interesting as having an addiction.  So now I'm going to compile a list of 12 massively distributed products that cost under $2 and pick a new one.  I'm thinking Now'n'Laters.

Fauxcabulary Exercises

Secondtively- not first, but definitely second.

As used in a sentence:  First, let me say I agree and secondtively, that guy needs to be punched in the throat.

Secondtively.

*via JennShady.  She's good for at least two made up words on  a weekly basis.  Please note that I had not boughten this word from her.

Vocabular Exercises

Perquisition.

\Per`qui*si"tion\, n. [Cf. F. perquisition.] A thorough inquiry of search

Through a constant perquisition for terrorists, George W. Bush terrorized many innocent people.  George W. Bush is a fucktard.

Perquisition.

Week of Many Lost Photo Opportunities

Big Things Come in Small Packages

She Let me Take Her Photo Because I was the First Person Who Knew She Was Dressed as The Phoenix. (it was the only Halloween photo I would end up taking so she wins first prize in the costume contest I was gonna have)

View From Unknown Place in Central Park

Version 2

It Was Bigger in Person. (Look towards the back for the Chrysler Bldg)

Randomness

Randomness V 2.0

Once I figure out how to compress the video I will try and post it too.

Thus concludes our NYC trip recap.

New York Summaries

I think this will be our last full length NYC trip for the near future.  We have Canada, Europe and Portland/Seattle to explore next.  Our next visit will probably entail a long weekend with some road tested fashion sneakers.  Here’s a summary of our trip and the lessons I learned:

• YOU WILL NEVER MAKE IT IN TIME FOR YOUR 6:OOAM FLIGHT.  IT’S A PIPE DREAM CHUCK.
• Stay at a hotel with a subway stop on the corner.  Every block away adds up fast.
• Stop taking the Subway and just grab a cab.  You are on vacation gawd dammit.
• Buy the $335 pair of shoes you liked at Saks.  Just do it.
• Central Park is huge and pretty this time of year.
• Take the time during your cab ride to soak in some of the architectural detail that's all around.
• Find a corner bar near home base (hotel) to hang out at during interim periods and make sure it has an internet jukebox.  It saved us from having to listen to Patti Fucking Labelle and (insert cheezy gay diva here) all night.
• Tip your hang out bartender well because the music you load the internet jukebox with will run off ½ the customers in the bar who’ve never heard the Yeah Yeah Yeahs before.
• Buy your fashion sneakers and road test them prior to departure.
• Stop and go into that store you just passed that looked interesting.  You are not going to pass by it again.
• Be sure to tell the person you are walking with that you are stopping to go inside a store that looks interesting.
• Go see a play.  I regret not doing it each time.
• If you can’t and shouldn’t eat an 18 oz sirloin in Florida, you can’t and shouldn’t in NYC.  Even if it is at the Old Homestead Steakhouse.
• Go eat at the Old Homestead Steakhouse. Yum-yummery goes on there.  Get the 18 oz sirloin (you don’t have to eat it all).
• Nooch rules.
• If you have the choice of Chelsea/The Village or Upper West Side/Times Square.   Don’t expend the energy to decide:  It’s Chelsea/The Village if you want fun and interesting.  West Side/Times Square if you want to catch a cab or ride the subway to Chelsea/The Village.
• Keep looking until you find a bar you like- Posh and Art Bar were among our very favorites- they got the music right.  (Memo to NYC bars:  Cheezy gay disco musik doesn’t cut it anymore)
• Just because you are from a medium size city doesn’t mean the (small) bars in NYC are automatically better.  I can think of some places here that trump anything we saw in NYC.  That’s right.  (At least so far.  We’re not finished drinking our way through NYC).
• Just stop what you are doing and take the photo.  You won’t be back again tomorrow to do it.  Especially if today is Halloween and you are in the middle of the Village.
• The Paramount Hotel is fantastic.  Our room was small but it didn’t bother us.  However, only stay there if you can get a large bathroom.  I had to sit sideways on the toilet (which meant I was in the shower) and I had to move in slow measured quarter turns to turn around in the shower.  The sink was primo however, I could stand in front of it with no problems.
• Yes Linda, the sheets were like a little hug from Jeezus.
• If you have a balance on your Metro Card or unused tickets to something or another; pass them on to another visitor before you leave.  We scored from the kindness of a stranger and it was a nice treat.
• Flava Flav is about 5’6” and weighs a buck forty.
• You shouldn’t point and laugh at Flava Flav.
• We eavesdropped on a dinner conversation that confirmed Kenny Chezney(sp?) is gay.  And we didn’t care.
• We eavesdropped on a phone conversation that confirmed Heidi Klum will not attend your shit party.
• We were in NYC for a full week but we’re going to end up driving to Decatur Georgia to see Amy Sedaris.  WTF?
• “Winging” your trip just means you will end up walking 50 blocks in one day “exploring” the city because you didn’t have anything planned to do.   We missed Courtney Love slurring her way through a book signing, most of the good CMJ bands and Amy Sedaris perform Friday evening.  Had we known about CMJ and Amy we would have rebooked our trip through the weekend.  (The moral is:  Have a researched itinerary and blow off the things you change your mind about.)
• If you’ve seen a taping of Letterman once, don’t bother with doing it again.  It’s the same and it eats up a lot of your day.
• You can't swing a cat without hitting a great restaurant in NYC.
• Don't be afraid to make the cabbie repeat himself over and over and over again until you finally come to a mutual understanding as to what the hell he is asking you.
• The little old ladies that scream obscenities at the cabbies will steal your heart.
• Taking 6 more photos than you took last time (4) is not progress.

Change Your Shoes, Change Your Life

So.  I seem to have this bad habit of picking the wrong shoes for our NYC adventures.  This year I went with a heavier fashion hiking boot that seemed to be extremely comfortable prior to our leaving.  Once in NYC we typically walked 20-50 blocks per day. It just ended up that way because by the time we’ve cleared 10 blocks sight seeing, we just keep going and before we know it, we are close to the next place so....we keep going.  Therefore by Day 3, I couldn’t walk without pain and was audibly cursing every fourth step.   Walking had become torture and I was beginning to hate every moment.  I hated just walking the four blocks to the Subway station.  At the end of my rope, I began my perquisition for new fashion sneakers.

Being in NYC and a short cab ride from any store I could ever want to purchase a pair of shoes from-- you’d think this would not become the huge crisis it did.  For some reason we could not grasp the concept of taking a cab to Macys instead of walking around endlessly to find it.  It’s like admitting defeat and there would be no white flags on our bayonets.

Luckily we found a little shop near our favorite Thai place (Nooch) and I promised myself that the first pair that I could stomach, in my size, under $100 would be on my feet as I left the store.   The clerk helping me actually had a personality (a first) and never complained when going up and down the stairs 4 times to get me sizes.

Because of my ridiculous standards and the fact I wear a common size, I didn’t find a pair until the evening of Day 4 out of our 5 day trip.  I lowered my standards three times.  Merely acceptable would now do.  (I should caveat this with the fact that I did indeed find a pair on Day 3 at Saks, for $335.00.  I still dream of them.)

Here's the story on why I was having such problems: I tend to like chunky, dressy shoes, with good width.  Think Dr. Marten with a comfort flex sole or Kenneth Cole Reaction.  The current crop of trendy shoes are borrowing from womens pointy toed pumps and that's just not acceptable.  Also, because of my mutant foot shape I don't like shoes that "mold" themselves around my foot-- ala Sambas.  I was ready to accept a pair of tennis shoes but every shop I found a pair at- would be out of my size.  By the time I was ready to accept a typical pair of gray/blue generic tennis shoes--- the shop we land at doesn't carry generic tennis shoes.  But I had a promise to keep and a body that was going to go on strike at any moment if I didn't improve conditions in the workplace fast.

So I kept my promise and selected the first pair that fit and walked happily ever after for the rest of the trip.  They were comfortable but are so hideous I can’t stare directly at them for fear of being blinded.  I'm not sure who is going to get them for Xmas yet.

We're gonna be a part of it V2.0.

We are returning to our unofficial second home, NYC next week.  We have no real itinerary, just a list of people, places and things to seek out and hopefully stumble across something extremely interesting.  We're also very excited that Moby just released our theme song to sing the whole time we are there.

Here's the list so far:

• Guggenheim
• MOMA
• Bootlegs
• Pomme Frites
• Amy Sedaris' cupcakes and cheeseballs
• Cafeteria Mac N' Cheez
• Explore the East Village
• Letterman-  That's right- We got tickets again! Oh Happy Day!
• CMJ bands-there are tons of them playing
• Halloween Parade
• Central Park
• Spit on an unnecessary celebrity (I'm hoping for Paltrow)
• Spot a cool celebrity and get them pose for a wacky photo
• Widget hunt

We are open to other suggestions as well....Anyone...?  Linda?   

New York, New York by Debbie Harry via Moby

One day, I will have photos of my own to share instead of these photos I borrowed from Google.  I am going to try real hard to avoid last year's incident of putting the camera through the xray scanner at the airport.  Oops.

Ode to Gym

So I have been going to the gym a little more frequently now that I have my iPod.  And I have a few issues that need to be discussed:

1. What happened to the guy that looked like a model and always wore skin tight workout clothes?  I miss him.
2. Will someone in a position of authority please tell the older,heavier (read: extra sweaty), handi-capable gentlemen that if he would simply shower ahead and wash his gym jacket (which is zipped to the neck) and sweat pants, I wouldn't make faces at him and start gagging when I am forced to workout next to him?  Geezus, you stink worse than my beloved decomposing dead dog ever did.
3. How many more years is the guy who is practically bald going to hold onto those three strands in the front and continue to spike them up in a effort to conceal the large bald surface behind it?  Seriously, you are 5"2 which means everyone can see the top of your head.  Who in the world do you think is falling for it?
4. I am proud of the fact that my gym gives financial assistance to those that need help.  But just because you are poor doesn't mean you can't afford to put on your t-shirt like everyone else (read: I am not attracted to you; because you are poor). (that's only  a joke- it's just gross)
5. If I "accidentally" want to leave the premises with a thread bare workout towel so I don't sweat in my car, don't stop me or act like you are about to hit the button that opens the trap door beneath my feet when I tell you "No", I am not giving it back.  If I say I'll bring it back, you're just going to have to trust in me.  Besides, Jesus told me I could have it.

 

Guns of Steel or Sometimes I Think That I'm Bigger Than the Sound!

So.  Yeah Yeah Yeahs is my new #1 band after seeing them perform live in Orlando.  I was initially excited just to go see them perform "Turn Into" live and basically if they did anything else I liked-- it would be the bag of chips to go with all that.  Seeing a band play live can always help translate the music from their cds like nothing else can.  Songs I didn't really give much attention to before took on a whole new life and I can't stop listening to their albums nonstop as a result.

The show delivered like dominoes from start to finish.   Karen O took the stage in some sort of shiny shiny costume thing complete with mask and opened with Cheated Hearts (my 2nd fave) and started takin, takin, takin' it off.  It just got better and better from there. Two thirds of the way into the show, it was bathroom time.  They began "The Warrior" and I figured the coast was clear to hit the head, grab some cash and refuel.  Obviously, they wouldn't dream of following it up with "Turn Into" just like the cd.

The Hard Rock has a long and winding road leading to the long and winding staircase that leads to the basement where the bathroom is (or seems that way).  By the time I got to it and began my urine stream, what the hell do my ears pick up faintly as I finish up?  "Turn Into".  Sometimes you size up a situation and have to come to some harsh realizations.  I- I wanted to wash my hands after I finished. 2- I am too old to go running out of a public bathroom at a concert proclaiming "They're playing my favorite song!" 3- There was no way I would make it back up the several flights of stairs and back to my group for enough of the song to make it worth having to just go back down to the restroom area to use the ATM. 4- I'll buy the live album.  So I missed most of my favorite song but I did score some cash at the ATM and bought us another round to ride out the rest of the blessed show.

After the best show ever, we were stuck at City Walk trying to find something that fit our needs to no avail.  After a lengthy sweep of the area, we decided we could have more fun back at the motel-no-tell.  All we needed was a cab to take us back there.  An erroneous detour later,  we found our way back to the Hard Rock Hotel where we were dropped going to the show and requested a cab back.  After Valet guy refuses my paltry tip but insists on a hug (?) he calls us a cab.  Minutes later, a cab pulls up and motions to us speaking broken english.  We oblige and soon we are on our way.

Ivan (assigned name- He was Russianish) then comes to a stop before we have moved 10 feet and begins arguing with the valet who was courteous enough to call us the cab.  The valet blocked him from exiting with another vehicle but soon pulled back enough to allow him to proceed forward with a stern warning not to come back.  5 more feet forward and we are suddenly in park, the cabbie is out the door and we're sitting in stunned silence watching him do a hybrid run/waddle (he was a large man) straight to the Valet's car.  His hands disappear into the shadows of the Valets open window and more words are being exchanged.  Before we could make a collective decision to bail or not, Ivan was back and his adrenalin was pumping.  Ivan hit the gas and began muttering to us about what an asshole the other guy was etc etc.  It turns out that Ivan is an independent driver and not the cab Huggie Bear the Valet guy called for us.  Drama!  We loved it.

So Ivan is going on about the altercation and we're just mainly concerned with arriving alive to our destination (after a pit stop for some adult beverages to drink in the safety of our room).   He finally brings the cab out of warp drive long enough to take us to the Walgreens.  Becuz they sell beer there per Ivan.  Which we all thought was strange but we were in Orlando and Orlando is surely more liberal than Jax.  Jenn Shady and Ben-J get out but I stay put.  I decided I wasn't going to miss a second of Ivan Theatre.   Sure enough, we began circling the Walgreens while he goes on and on about what a jerk the other guy was and how he didn't poke him in the eye but if he wanted to hurt him he could blah blah blah.  Suddenly, we stop in the alley behind the Walgreens instead of circling back to the front.  Ivan flexes a tight bicep muscle (again huge guy) which is roughly the size of my right thigh.  "Feel This" he says.   My routine of patronizing him wasn't good enough for Ivan and he insisted I feel his muscle.  When you are stopped in a back alley in a strangers car that you're reasonably sure you can't take in a fight, you have to wonder what he's going to make you touch as a follow up.  But, I was half liquored so I took a chance, slapped his gun and changed my routine a bit so that he had a second opinion confirming he could indeed have hurt that guy.  If he wanted too.

This made Ivan happy and the car starts moving again.  Walgreens in Orlando shockingly do not sell adult beverages.  But the Chevron across the street did.  After Ben-J and Jenn Shady get back from shopping at the Chevron we are off.  Ivan's adrenalin has lowered and now he is taking the path of peace.  He asks Jenn Shady for one of our "fancy" beers and a couple of her "yellow" cigarettes.  Because if something is in a yellow box, it must in turn be that color.  Ivan is a prisoner to the concept of color coding I guess.  We oblige and Ivan says he is going back to make a peace offering to Valet Guy.  After he promises not to drink and drive we send him on his way and head up to our room.  What a great way to wind down from the concert.  It's not everyday you get to help broker peace between an independent russianish cabbie and a valet guy who hands out free hugs.  I like free hugs.

Must Go Recycle My Precious Machinery

What do you do with old computer parts?  Luckily Apple will allow you to recycle up to 2 pieces per year or something like that (when you purchase a new Apple).    Who knew they were so green?

Junkie Whore, Interrupted: Property Ladder Wrap-Up Edition

Here are some fun facts and reasons we were barely seen or heard from during the month of August:

We spent a total of 36 days equating to about 339 hours working on the investment property.  33 of those were CONSECUTIVE Days.

I owned it less than 60 days before selling it.  These results are not typical.

I was very lucky but I also did my research prior to purchase.

I now have a 60gb Ipod with Hi-Fi.  It's dreamy.

I need a security system.

One thing will always lead to another no matter how well you try to anticipate.

I did a great job anticipating.

The tiny cuts on the ends of my fingers are healing nicely.

Wal*Mart carries the best line of paint(Kilz Colors) and the lowest prices on painting supplies.

I will buy an expensive sprayer before I paint an entire house again.  It's worth every penny as long as it can hold multiple gallons.

Some people actually like cheap dark paneling and will tell you that they wished you hadn't painted it.  2 days after you spent 2 days priming and painting it.

It is possible to inhale too many toxic fumes.  Some toxic fumes will make you nauseas.

The prospective buyers who reported to me they could still smell dog urine in the back bedroom were wrong.  It was caked on people urine from the adjacent bathroom they smelled.  Cleaning the bathroom just brought it all to the surface.

It only took 2 days to regain the feeling in my fingertips after scrubbing the urine soaked bathroom with some caustic, intensive cleaners.  I seriously couldn't open jars or tops for a while.

Somebody who drives up in an old, beat up, junked up sub-compact car is either too poor to afford your $300k renovation or too cheap to pay for your $300k renovation.  In my case, she was cheap (and rude).

Make notes of every conversation that takes place with buyers/buyers representatives.  It's amazing what some people forget when they fuck up.

The resurfaced bathtubs looked great.  I would resurface an old tub before I would replace it now.

We never found any lost stashes from the junkie that used to live there.  We looked pretty hard too.  We wanted to buy more expensive fixtures for the place.

If you ignore the belligerent neighbor, eventually he'll quit asking you to fix his pool drain cap that one of your workers broke.

A pool is not supposed to be drained into the public sewer system.  Make sure to bring this up to the belligerent neighbor.

I was informed by Neighbor A that Neighbor B was 2nd generation Arab.  I believe that I was told this because I lived closer to Neighbor B, the 2nd generation Arab, and could help Neighbor A keep an eye on this potential sleeper cell.

Don't forget to thank the neighbors that helped you keep an eye on the property.  Even the 2nd generation Arab.

Try to ignore the people that ask if you are going back to "work" after you finish the rehab.

That giant, long vanity in the bathroom?  Double check that it's not 2 vanities under 1 counter top before you assume you can't replace it without a special order (i.e. $$$).

Take a break after a certain number of days.

Caulk and Caulk related products are your best friends.  Goo B Gone is your BFF.

I think after a month or so, I might be ready for my next one.  I want a super deluxe portable tennis ball machine and a bigger house for my iPod.

I've been tagged.

I started to answer the questions but then I thought, it would be more fun to answer Linda's answers.  So, here we go:

1. If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be?
Linda:  This one takes more thought than it used to. For years, I could have instantly answered "Eagle Nest, New Mexico" with absolute surety. I loved this pristine mountain lake in the middle of nowhere but close enough to Taos and Santa Fe for a touch of urbanity when I got the jones. Now, it's been (over)populated with, of all things, trailer homes. And it's only a matter of time before the first McDonald's pops up. And then there's the whole problem of it being in America, which isn't high on my list of favorite places right now, even though I live here.

Me:  I'll be in NYC.  You can go play indian priestess in the desert if you want.

2. What’s your favorite article of clothing?
Linda:  An old t-shirt from Banana Republic. It's girl-cut, which I know isn't really a word but, to me, that means that it fits me, a girl, just right because it has little cap sleeves and it curves to my body -- so much so that I would never wear it outside of the house. I love putting it on right before I go to bed because the fabric is so soft and worn. It calms me down before I go to sleep.

Me:  Same vibe for me.  For me it's my long sleeve black military oxford that I've had for over 7 years I think.  I heart it for multiple reasons and everyone loves it.  Everyone.

3. Favorite physical feature of the opposite sex? Linda:  The nose. No, the adam's apple...no, I think it's that little bowl-like indentation where the neck curves into the upper chest. Well, maybe it's actually the area between the navel and the pubis...I think it might actually be the whole body. But the thing that attracts me the most is not physical. Though the physical is a part of it. Oh! I could go on and on. I'm a feminist but I do just love men.

Me:  All of those features are among some of my best.  Fur shur.

4. What’s the last CD that you bought?
Linda:  Niyaz. Highly recommended.

Me:  Do you and the husband play "Casbah" at home a lot?  Burn me a copy.

5. Where’s your favorite place to be?
Linda:  My husband and I have a nightly ritual for going to bed (does everybody? probably so). Anyway, we always sit up for a little while, reading. Then one of us turns out their bedside lamp, and the other usually follows suit immediately. Then Beloved turns on his right side and I spoon up behind him for a few minutes. Then we both turn over on the left, which is usually when we go to sleep (unless we're both so exhausted we've already fallen asleep on the right side). Those few moments on the right are my favorite place in the whole world. It's a reassurance that there is peace and order in my world. I hope it never goes away.

Me:  Geezus Linda.  TMI.  Whore.

6. Where’s your least favorite place to be?
Linda:  In a car, anywhere.

Me:  Wal*Mart.

7. What’s your favorite place to be massaged?
Linda:  Oh, I do love to have my feet massaged! But massage me anywhere. I won't complain.

Me:  Define massage.

8. Strong in mind or strong in body?
Linda:  Definitely strong in mind. Because it takes a strong mind to grow a strong body. At least, for me.

Me:  Yup.

9. What time do you wake in the morning?
Linda:  Between 6 and 6:30 during the work week...later on weekends. If I never had to work again, the time would get later and later. And I'd eventually be up all night.

Me:  When I am forcibly removed from my bed and blanket by noise, sunlight or an overwhelming sense of obligation to be somewhere else.  Time is a theory.  Like Evolution.

10. What’s your favorite kitchen appliance?
Linda:  Has to be the coffee maker. Because it makes coffee. But it could be the stove. Because it makes mint tea.

Me:  Bottle opener.

11. What makes you really angry?
Linda:  Idiocy. And there is an overabundance of it here. Just one example: my co-worker is on a prescription where she takes one pill a day. The pills come in a 30-pill pack. Her doctor recently altered the dosage, cutting it down to one pill every other day. So she went to the pharmacy to get the prescription filled and it cost twice as much because now, it's a two-month supply instead of a one-month supply. Nevermind that it's the exact same 30-pill pack. The pharmacist could not comprehend her displeasure at paying twice as much for the exact same thing simply because she was planning to consume it at a slower pace. That's idiocy.

Me:  Ditto.

12. If you could play any instrument, what would it be?
Linda:  The piano, the piano, the piano. I would play it all day every day just for the pleasure of listening to the glorious sounds it makes.

Me:  Guitar or Bass Guitar or that Wurlitzer thingy.

13. Favorite color?
Linda:  Violet next to garnet next to lilac next to gold.

Me:  Wasn't your Kitchen all of those colors at various points in time?  For me it changes daily.  Usually black though.

14. Which do you prefer, sports car or SUV?
Linda:  Oh my god, neither one. Please.

Me:  Wuss.  Sports car.  Fast and furious.

15. Do you believe in afterlife?
Linda:  Yes, I think I have to believe in one, though it's a hodgepodge of different ideas and certainly not heaven or hell. I just don't think I 'm capable of living life and knowing, in my soul, that this is it. This is all there really is. There's nothing else, whatsoever. I don't want to go through every day thinking that. Maybe one day, I'll be more spiritually advanced and I won't be depressed by thinking that.

Me:  It is Gawd's will that I live on after my physical form has diminished.  We're planning a little something after I "die".

16. Favorite children’s book?
Linda:  Horton Hears a Who. Because a person's a person, no matter how small.

Me:  You should stitch that on a pillow for Will-Z or print it on a T-Shirt and give it to a midget.

17. What is your favorite season?
Linda:  Ah...the fall. I love fall. I love to call it fall and I love to call in autumn. I love all the months in it, especially October. I love the colors and I love leaves falling. I love the crisp, cool air that cuts through the thick, wet heat of summer. I love it love it love it. Love every single thing about it. I wish I were walking through Central Park in October right this minute. And for the rest of the day. At least.

Me:  Anyone who knows me will understand why I'm giggling.

18. What’s your least favorite household chore?
Linda:  The only household chore that I actually like is paying the bills. Not to be confused with earning the money to pay the bills...just paying the bills. I love writing the checks, entering them in the check register, putting it in an envelope, adding a stamp. I love the stack of envelopes waiting to go in the mail. I don't know why I love this, but I do. I thoroughly dislike all other household chores. I can't think of a single one that gives me anything more than the passing pleasure of having a thing done.

Me:  You need to get the husband a job.

19. If you could have one super power, what would it be?
Linda:  To be able to transport myself without an automobile.

Me:  I'll be hitching rides with you.

20. If you have a tattoo, what is it?
Linda:  My beautiful late friend, Tommy Gomez, once said to me that tattoos are bad for the soul. Coming from this wise creature, it somehow stuck with me, and I've never gotten one. Lately, though, I've been wanting to get that hebrew phrase (is it hebrew?) that goes something like "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine" tattooed on me someplace (maybe under my wedding ring?). But Beloved thinks it's bad karma to do that (he has a fear of irony) so I won't.

Me:  That guy needs to get a job so he won't have all this time to think so much.

21. Can you juggle?
Linda:  Believe it or not, I can.

Me:  Define juggle.

22. The one person from your past you wish you could go back and talk to?
Linda:  Can I please have my mother and my grandmother at the same time? Please, don't make me choose between the two. I love and miss them both, so very much.

Me:  I keep on keepin' on.  So no need to go backwards.

23. What’s your favorite day?
Linda:  Thursday. It has all the order inherent in a work day, but with the sweet-smelling promise of the weekend. I dislike Friday because it takes so very long.

Me:  Any day I get paid.

24. What’s in the trunk of your car?
Linda:  My yoga mat, a Hot Wheels car, and several CDs that I should take better care of.

Me:  A clean and orderly array of items.

25. Which do you prefer, sushi or hamburger?
Linda:  I would not, could not, eat a fish. Ever. Never have and hopefully never will. And today, I would not, could not, eat the child of another cow. A cow whose child was forcefully torn from said cow's side. Can't do it and don't want to do it. And am also uninterested in vegetarian substitutes. Why would I want a hamburger when I could have hummus and tabouli intead?

Me:  Bring on the forcefully torn, chopped and pattied cow!

Thus concludes the tagging.

Property Ladder Junkie Whore Style

Every waking moment right now is consumed with getting an investment property ready for sale.  I've watched my sister do it for years now, so I figured it was my turn.  Besides, I want a pool for next summer.  So since I can have no other thoughts until the rehab is completed, I thought I would record what I've learned so far:

• Make a budget and try to stick to it no matter what.
• Dog urine wreaks.
• Some people live like animals and I'm becoming less certain that it was the dogs that urinated all over the house.
• Ask anyone and everyone you know who they know that knows how to do something you need done.  I've saved over $4000 in potential labor costs and immeasurable blisters on my hands just by doing this.
• Sometimes you get what you pay for.
• Every $100 trip to Lowe's adds up fast.
• 1 pallet of sod covers about 500 square feet.
• A yard is always bigger than it looks.
• Not all sod is created equal.  Factor in whether your yard gets full sun, shade or partial shade when ordering your sod.
• Do not taunt the sod man.
• True friends will come over and paint with you.
• True friends who come over and paint with you deserve a grilled hamburger or steak depending on how much they paint.
• Just because you always see construction people drinking beer from a cooler every day after 4pm doesn't mean you should too.
• Find a color palette and stick to it.
• Always ask if you can get a designer color matched in a lower grade base paint which means half the cost.  Saving $40 is also worth flirting in my book.
• Fill your nail holes before you paint.
• Don't be a sucker, kick the old lady out of the house the day you sign the closing papers.  It doesn't matter that she fixed the oven prior to closing.  Bring a box to hand to her after the closing.
• Take "before" photos.  After you get a room looking all clean and shiny, you'll never convince visitors that "they should have seen it before the work".
• The neighbor across the street with vines growing on the house, baby blue trim and a foyer filled with crap is indeed crazy.  Don't talk to the crazy neighbor across the street or make her feel comfortable enough to come talk to you.
• Keep your eyes on the prize.
• Keep telling yourself that you are not afraid to file bankruptcy.
• Pray to Gawd that the sod cutter you left sitting out in the backyard for the lawn crew will be there tomorrow morning.
• Never leave equipment like a sod cutter sitting outside overnight.
• Ask friends if they know anyone with a sod cutter.

I'll keep updating as I learn more. 

Surely, this must be a sign of the coming Apocolypse....

Ummm...if you don't understand the implications of this photo...you are doomed.  The earth is coming to an end and the Flying Spaghetti Monster is about to call us home.  Or maybe I'm just being dramatic...but I'm going to say a little prayer right now anyway.

Scenes from a Happy Hour 072106

Pretty she is, pretty she can be...

It's officially a conspiracy.

Gawd dammit!  They did it again today.  Went to Authorithai for lunch-- craving my Chicken Padt, Chicken Padt, Chicken Padt Thai and what happens?

1)I get water that tastes like a recently treated swimming pool.

2)Our server brings me the Chicken Green Curry.  To which I say, "Well, that looks good- I'll eat it-- I don't care".  He ignores me (hearing problem?).

3) 5 minutes later after watching everybody around me eat, I get my dried up Chicken Padt Thai with the wrong kind of rice.   But I don't care.  I was hungry and just wanted a big pile of food.  Wet, dry, whatever.

The only thing that made me feel better after strike three was that the table behind me had two whine boxes who clearly would be better off having gone to Zaxby's and ordered their chicken fingers (don't get me wrong, I heart the Zaxby's).   Just listening to them order was a sure sign of impending disaster.  Sure enough, 10 minutes after one dish was sent back and a replaced with the same as her eating partner-- because it was "good", the "head" waiter and manager were called over to the table to hear a list of grievances.  I suspect having a "head" waiter was just a ruse because that place is too small and there are only 2 waiters on duty for lunch.

Upon our exit I did get some justice because grievance #3 was that her Chicken Padt Thai was dry and the one they brought her friend "had plenty of sauce".  I do take solace in the fact that at least they are conspiring against us all.

Thai Fighters

We went to AuthoriThai (aka Aurathai) last night for dinner. We got there early so we decided to sit at the bar and have a glass of wine while we waited for our friends and a table.  The owners did a great job with the build out and it has a nice atmosphere.  We've been there for lunch on many occassions and consistently have problems with the service such as...forgetting to put in my order of food, forgetting what it was that I ordered, serving the entire party one by one in 10 minute intervals etc etc.  However, the food is so good we don't care what happened by the time we leave.

Our friends arrived and joined us at the bar for the long wait.  Shortly afterward we were swarmed by a whorde of Avondaleness.  We only had our backs to the door for 2 minutes when they appeared out of nowhere demanding tables for 10 and a wine list.  "Is your coconut milk fresh?" one of them cried.

I quickly realized we were now surrounded by the Kip and Kiki contingent of Avondale.   Here's the breakdown-  Kip is usually on the unattractive tip or is an outright beast yet he is married to Kiki who is attractive, fashionable and is so up to date on the area schools she can offer an authoritative opinion of any teacher within a 10 mile radius.  They always travel in packs and rarely mingle with anyone whose child doesn't attend the same private school or soccer field.

True to form, the Kips began talking about something mundane while the Kiki's began drinking. Heavily.   You can almost always count on the Kiki's for some heavy drinking.  It is doubtful that Kip minds, because let's face it- it's to his advantage.  Most of the Kiki's are closet smokers and will put a knife to the throat of anyone who might expose them.  But you just know they have a pack on top of their kitchen cabinets next to the vodka bottle and vicodin.  Remember, the Kiki's are the ones home all day listening to the kids scream.  But they have a big home and a Porsche Cayenne in the driveway so that helps to drown the kids out.

I am fortunate enough to have a friend with some inside knowledge of the group so she fills me in on them.  The restaurant is small so when it gets filled up with a waiting list,  you're just going to have to rub elbows until you get your table.  After a few glasses of wine I couldn't help but notice one of the Kiki's was talking smack rather loudly about something.  I looked over and asked my insider friend "Who's the girl with the drunk hair and smokey makeup?  Is she newly divorced?  She looks like she'd be fun to hang out with..."  My friend rolled her eyes and responded "No. She's just loud.  If you think loud is fun, then she's for you."  Drat.

The restaurant was clearing out which meant they began seating again.  As we took to our table, I noticed that the Kip's were all clustered at one end of the table and the Kiki's were clustered on the opposite.  I don't blame the Kiki's, I would rather slit open an artery than listen to Kip and Kip dish about golf clubs.  But it was weird nonetheless. 

Mind you, it's not that I hate the Kip's and the Kiki's or find them annoying or bear any ill will.  It's just not my world. I actually find them fascinating.   For me, watching them is the same as if I was in a foreign land like Qatar, sitting in a cafe watching people.  I wouldn't understand a word of what was being said around me but I could sit and stare for hours.

Once our waiter arrived (eventually) and my attention was diverted to food (after finally getting a menu) we settled into dinner and of course it was delicious start to finish. Fresh spring rolls, calamari, soft shell crab in a chile sauce and so on.  And as usual, dinner was so good it didn't even matter that they served each of us our entrees in five minute intervals (down from ten).  So in summary, the food is wonderful and the service is getting better and better.  Or maybe it was the wine.

If only Drew had been there.

For some reason that escapes me now, it was determined that we must not miss Echo and The Bunnymen performing in Orlando this past June.  At the House of Blues. In the middle of Downtown Disney.  Downtown Disney is the center of hell unless you have children.  For us non child bearing peeps, it is torture to walk one end to the other.  Fat asses, fanny packs, strollers, running children, dirty children, children with dirty hands, germ carrying children, and their smelly parents, were everywhere. But we managed to make it to the HOB relatively unscathed.  Thank goodness we wore rubber gloves and surgical masks.  It's worse than being in a room with 10 hippies and a tambourine.

Echo sounded crisp and very clear.  The acoustics in the HOB are incredible.  We were stage right at the bar when the show began and we could actually have a conversation.  Later we moved down to the floor after I decided it had to be louder somewhere in there.  Sure enough, we could no longer hear ourselves and suddenly began vibrating from the bass.  Which is how it should be at a rock n roll concert.  All in all a great show and it was nice to see a band that has had so much influence still out and about.  I never saw them in the eighties (cuz I was too young of course) so I'm glad I got the chance now.  Strange that they would owe their resurgence to Drew Barrymore via Donnie Darko though.  She obviously had good taste in music when she was 10 and strung out on heroin.

"Don't Listen to Him...

So the wee nephew graduated high school.  Long story but in the 11th hour of his high school career it is decided that he should be home schooled-via correspondence courses-via a Church.  First Heritage of Baptism by Hellfire (where they prefer whites only-but their doors are open to everyone).  Or something like that.

The trip out to his graduation was treated with a great deal of casualness.  I envisioned 6 kids who never met each other in a small room with a "Happy Graduation" banner under which they would receive their diploma along with Wal*Mart application and be encouraged to throw their ballcaps or golf visors into the air.  To the side of the banner there would be a folding table with a "Happy Graduation" cake (white with white frosting) and punch bowl filled with fruit punch with floating orange slices.  Within 15 minutes, we're back in my car headed to my sisters house in Crackerville and bing, bam, we're back home within 2 hours.

Instead, it was a large church, with a large parking lot getting filled rapidly.  We entered the auditorium for the ceremony and surveyed the near capacity crowd.  Lots and lots of middle class rednecks and the self righteous.  There weren't 6 kids graduating but something like 30.  And all 30 were represented by large families from siblings to close eyed cousins.  It was quite the human zoo.  The ceremony was a grueling affair loaded with all the fixins.  The spirituals, the speeches and of course the keynote speaker.

I think they should have opted for the small room with folding table and maybe a bigger cake.  It's a little sad when your keynote speaker is the prison chaplin from Rayford.  Aside from the ham handed attempts to scare the kids straight and the obvious strays into subject matters that he would have gotten heckled for (and possibly punched according to my sister) had he made one false move, it was all "you are going to hell...repent now...christian values will save your soul...come to Jesus...God is a vengeful god...Marriage is a man and a woman...Obey God's will...blahblahblah".  At one very tense moment, when my eyes, my partner's eyes, my sister's eyes, her partner's eyes, and my brass knuckles were all fixated on the very next word about to come out of his mouth; I discovered something that in a matter of a nano second, reduced him to an absolute joke to me.   

I immediately started giggling and looked at my partner who was clearly about to shed his skin.  I pointed at the podium and whispered "Don't listen to him...he's wearing cowboy boots."  I could barely get the words out without cracking up.   If this guy couldn't even take himself seriously enough to wear proper dress shoes to deliver the keynote speech for a graduation ceremony, why should I waste any more of my time caring what he said?  Of course, one thing led to another and I began wondering, "exactly what are the proper dress shoes for a polyester suit?" and "how far down the list do you go before you're stuck with the prison chaplain from Rayford or was he at the top?"  By the time he shut the fuck up, I could barely contain myself.  He went from being annoying to an endless mockery for me.  My favorite was picturing him driving his Buick with his freshly ironed Klan hood and robe in the back seat with a "Real Men Love Jesus" sticker just below his memorial sticker to "The Intimidator" on the back window.  Unfortunately, I couldn't hang around long enough to follow him to his car to see if he actually had either the Buick, the Klan suit or the Jesus sticker.  (The Intimidator sticker is a given).  I would still put money on all three though.

Back by Popular Demand...or Peer Pressure.

I stopped posting as I started think about how silly it was and before I knew it, 4 months rolled by.  So here I am! (again).  Posting for the masses (my 4 friends who read this- you know who you are). 

I didn't run out of ideas or stories but lost the desire to share them.  Life is funny that way.  I now realize how stingy I am being with my amusement these days.  I have a list of things to write about and will diligently update each day until I'm all caught up.

Vamos Junkie Whores!

What was in the Cake?

So it was time to have my teeth cleaned again yesterday.  And as I have written about previously in I bet she likes cake  I believe my dental hygenist might be mildly retarded.  Today's conversation was about how everybody is stealing her Senso-dyne when she's off.  And without the Senso-dyne she won't be able to do her gum massage.  Realizing that I could be left with tense gums, I suggessted a "lock box" or small portable safe, like the kind you can buy at Target or in her case Wal*Mart.  She got very perplexed and told me she didn't have the counter space.

But my favorite part was at the end with me laying flat in the chair after completing my cleaning including annual x-rays.  She and I were waiting on the Dentist to arrive and give me the all clear.  It was taking awhile and I was entering a trance as we waited in the cold silence.  Then, without warning, there was an odor.  The kind of odor that in a polite public setting, you hold your breath and hope for time to go by quickly.

Acknowledging or trying to excuse such a transgression never helps anyone involved.  You just have to move on.  However, realizing her faux pas, she quickly grabbed a can of air freshner.  As she sprayed it about the room, she began telling me that it just gets so "musty" in there and especially in "this back corner".  The same back corner she had been standing at prior to needing to spray air freshner.  Once the "musty" smell was gone, I had to stop the giggles from coming.  It took a heavy sigh (thank god for the air freshner) and I had to pick a spot on the wall to stare at while I waited on the Dentist to rescue me.

I just wish somebody could be there with me to witness the glory that is this woman.  I've gone from the "What is wrong with you" phase to now expecting her to enterain me on a grand scale.  She's my monkey.  My little retarded monkey.

Honorable Mention

As we were walking around the Village/Chelsea in the early-ish a.m. during our stay in NYC, we noticed some guys being filmed across the street.  We got fairly close to the camera man and watched the guy(s) being filmed for a couple of minutes.  One seemed to be rapping and referenced Narnia a lot.  We shrugged, deduced it must be some NYU students doing something to protest the mass marketing of the Narnia film coming out and shuffled along our way.

After returning to JAX, I kept seeing references to a SNL skit all over the web.  I finally clicked and watched it.  5 seconds in- the OH.MY.GAWD.'s started.  It was the closest we came to a celebrity citing and unfortunately, we had no clue.  I think we would have made an query had I known crazy delicious cupcakes were involved but the sound was muddled from our side of the street so we ruled it irrelevant and went about our business in the usual way.  Looking for cupcakes.

C

Hail to the Chief!

We Never Saw or Touched Any Monkeys.

We got our Letterman tickets about an hour after arriving at the Ed Sullivan theatre, via subway thank you very much.

Following a small break we had to be back at the theatre for the taping. Stephen Colbert was the guest that night along with some lady playing with toys intended for tots. Once you get in the theatre to prepare for the show, the interns subject you to multiple pep rallies. It grates the nerves after a while especially when there is lack of sleep involved. We both had less than 4 hours sleep since leaving Jax. I normally get 8-10. Once you finish with the seminars on how to clap, how to laugh and pass the final exam on how to show Dave you're having a great time, you're ready to hit the seats! The audience is then herded into the main theatre by the now Krishna inspired Interns clapping loudly and rapidly. It felt like a hazing as we were sprinting from the foyer to the interior of the theatre- I kept expecting to get paddled as we ran the gauntlet to our seats.

Once seated we were treated to a 5 minute warm up by one of the producers or Dave's manager or something like that. Then the band is introduced one by one with Shafer coming on last of course. The band is incredible. TV does not do them justice. Once the band finishes their warm up(s), Dave comes out in time to answer audience questions. Conveniently, he comes out 2 minutes before taping. That means, he has time for one question. The lucky audience member Dave selected for our taping asked the amazing question of "Who do you most want to interview"? Dave made fun of the guy/question for a few seconds and finally answered with "I don't know" basically because "he doesn't care" about anything/anybody. Blah blah blah then he runs off to get ready for the taping that is about to begin in 10 seconds.

Once the show starts it is over in a flash. The band plays during commercials and the next thing you know Dave is waving goodbye and running off stage. We had a great time and from what I understand, it is very hard to get tickets to his show so we were very lucky. From watching the show on TV to attending it, I was left with a completely different idea of it though. Initially, I thought Dave was very spontaneous with a lot of ad libs and nobody was counting every second etc. No. It is a very tightly wound, tightly run professional production from the time they hand you the ticket to the point of ushering you out of the theatre. Dave hit his marks and was out of there basically. I always thought they sort of made it up as they went along but it is quite rehearsed and scripted. The feeling was kind of like when I first discovered Madonna was only 5'4". It didn't change my love or adoration but it certainly made me question reality for brief nano second. Oh and the stage is much smaller in real life.

Leaving New York is never easy

Neither Ben nor I wanted to get on the plane.  We only needed a few more days to connive and figure out how we were going to pull off moving there.  New York is so incredible and I can't imagine spending your own money on going anywhere else.  Here's the breakdown:

We arrived at JFK early Wednesday.  On maybe 4 hours sleep.  Shuttle service drama ensures. LONG story and 1 transfer later, we arrive at our little motel-no tell after four hours.  Lesson learned:  Never take a shuttle- arrange for the car service.  It doesn't cost that much more and you won't waste four hours of your life in a shuttle van while some disgruntled driver holds you hostage.

The little B&B we booked based on an online review (can you feel the nerves) turned out to be just supa dupa!  Clean rooms, friendly house cat, helpful staff and ultra importante:  Right next to a subway stop.   Oh Happy Day!  Once we checked in it was straight to the room to immediately put on thermals.  We went from about 50 degrees here to 17 degrees in NYC.  17 Degrees with wind.  We then had maybe an hour to play with before we had to be at the Ed Sullivan Theater to claim our Letterman tickets.  I'll do a separate post on the Letterman experience.

The highlights of our trip were seeing Moby perform for 2 hours solid (a complete fluke getting tickets-Thank you Jenn R.) , MOMA, eating, the blessed angel on the subway that told us we were in Brooklyn not the Upper East Side,  riding the subway everywhere, The Village, BOOTLEGS!, Central Park and pretty much everything we did.  We could have spent another 2 weeks there and still not run out of things to do.  The feeling of being in a major city where people of varying races and beliefs are forced to get along or else, is such an amazing feeling.  It's the way it should be.

On the way back (we took the car service) I put the two disposable cameras we took photos with in my backpack.  And of course, put my backpack through the scanner.  All of the film was ruined.  I do have a few photos I took with my low quality camera phone.  They are all we have left until the next trip.

I am the Ice King, hear me snore!

It's been over 60 days since I last wrote anything.  Almost back to back since my last little cathartic musing was NYC vacation, Festivus, New Years Eve, Multiple back to back Bithdays and lots of cold weather peppered with suspiciously warm days.  Mmmm, pneumonia anyone?

For some reason, I shut down during Winter.  I don't like to be cold and my body's natural defense to this is sleep.  Once the temperature drops below about 65 degrees I immediately look for a blanket and somewhere to prop my head securely.  My greatest challenge during the winter season is simply staying awake.

As a big fan of the nap you would think I would look forward to cold weather induced comas.  But I do not.  It means I lose all motivation to leave the house or see people.  I literally don't want to move when I get chilled.  This downtime usually lasts about 60 days until the harsh reality of my expanding waistline and the rats nest I've built in my living room comes into focus.  There are usuall 3 or so blankets, a pile of shoes, assorted wrappers and all the remote controls are within a fingers length.

In retalitation to my hibernation, I always try to snap my mind into another direction.  This year I am going to try jogging to recalibrate.  Unfortunately,  I am more of a sprinter than jogger so I don't know how this is going to work out.  I just hope it keeps me awake.

We're gonna be a part of it...

We are leaving in the middle of the night tomorrow for a 120 hour tour of NYC.  We are flying economy on CommieAir and expect not to crash.  Our stay will be at a little B&B in Chelsea that has gotten fairly good reviews.  My only requirement is for the room to be fairly clean, bed bug free with a toilet and shower.  So with the bar already set that low, how could they disappoint?

In anticipation of the cold weather we purchased an abundance of insulating layers, wonderful gloves that we loves, a wide assortment of hats and mufflers, and our long coats.  No one should be able to recognize us now.  We have tickets to see Letterman and plan to visit MOMA.  A friend gave us a list of restaurants so we can eat our way through the city.  We are going to hit Central Park, Rockefeller, Times Square (just to see the TV), Ruperts Deli (Hello, Deli!), The Empire State building and if Ben can manage to drag me, the Statue of Liberty.  In between we plan to eat some of Amy Sedaris's delicious cheeseballs and cupcakes, shop Soho and the Village and exhaust ourselves in general.  We(I) have also decided that if we run into a celebrity that we don't like (and there is a long list of them) we will let them know that their story of transitioning from porn and making it big is really inspiring or tell them we love watching them the "Reba" show. 

I can't wait.

I am Techno, Hear Me Beep

I decided to begin importing my cd collection into Itunes on my home desktop-- basically until it explodes.  I got tired of those 1 am fumblings into a dark cabinet to find that song I loved 4 years ago and have convinced myself I want to hear again.  To picture the scene correctly, you have to imagine almost laying on the floor with a heavy duty spotlight trying to scan through hundreds of cd titles.  This ritual is of course following an in depth conversation analyzing said band or maybe I've just pieced together the desire from snippets of our conversations.  One minute we're discussing angels and an hour later it has morphed into angel dust and guns and Viola! I want to hear Dazzle by Siouxsie.  Some of these selections are nearly unexplainable though.

I have a nice little system going for keeping control of what’s been imported etc and by going through the exercise I've started thinking about my various musical phases.  I initially transitioned from cheezy 80's pop to alternative/industrial/grunge.  After the alternative/industrial/grunge trifecta entered the mainstream and became a fad, I remember being repulsed like many other people and was forced to renounce my involvement with Band XYZ because they were now “bobo” or whatever derogatory word was envogue to convey “lame, shame or cheezy”.  (Although we all still secretly listened to most of them, at least if we felt confident we could defend them as not being sellouts.)  My goodness life was simple when I was young(er).

From this I moved into my electronica phase.  This was basically post underground Rave era but still not quite making the 6 o’clock news or Dateline investigations.  This now brings me to the point of my little essay.  Electronica or House or Techno or whatever we called it- it’s had so many names, has not withstood the test of time for me.  I now think of it exclusively as background music or club music.  I cannot think of a single organic occasion to play it anymore.  Aside from some acid jazz/lounge when we’re just hanging tough, I have no desire to put my old Sasha mix on the hopper and crank it up.  As I pondered this, I think I realized the music itself, ultimately, had almost no meaning.  It was kind of like filler music.  I couldn’t think of a single DJ mix that changed my life or made me think about anything other than dancing like a fool. I didn’t realize it at the time but I think that 93.46% of Electronica is just plain disposable.

From that perspective it most certainly is an organic/natural expression/representation of the late 80’s and 90’s and now it makes perfect sense to me.  It’s the ultimate manifestation of the society we were dealing with at the time:  superficial and advancing technologically at an alarming rate.  With my new understanding of it, I’ve decided that it fits perfectly into my new phase that includes: Flair Pop (cheezy pop)/Post Modern Indie (alternative)/Disposable Synthetics (industrial, electronica, lounge).  I feel at peace now.  Sasha was too good looking to be tossed in the trash bin.

W Can Suck It!

Yup.

Freedom Fighter

We have been very bizzy lately with more fun to come over the course of December.  We saw Lily Tomlin which was an opportunity we felt we couldn't let slip by.  We rarely get anyone of that quality here in Jaxin'ville.  She was top notch as we expected. Even more so I think.

Post Lily we have witnessed a local production of a variant of Dicken's A Xmas Carole.  It was a lighthearted romp through Xmas stories past starring a good friend of Ben's.  The hole it was being staged at was decorated in 1970's thrift store clearance items.  The troupe made the most of what they had to work with production wise (imagine seeing a play in someone's singlewide trailer---decorated with clearance items from a thrift store) and managed to keep me entertained throughout the performance despite being sober.  I know, I took a big risk.  Kudos to them.

Now we have an adaptation of Santaland Diaries coming up by another local theater troupe.  They are presenting it in an actual theater setting so they had best do a better job than the thrift store thespians or I will have to publicly shame them.

From there it's off to NYC for vacation.   I have not taken a bona fide vacation in over 7 years and it's been over 5 years since I've visited NYC so we are really reved up.  We're trying not to let the horror of the cold invade our minds too much.  I'm going to scout around online for tips.  Surely there is a subject matter expert somewhere out there.  Seeing real snow is going to be a treat though.  Besides I can't wait to write "I wuz here".

All of this is just the buildup to the kickoff of our 2006 campaign "Operation:  Sofa Release".  This is only the beta test so we'll see how it works out.  The goal is to liberate my sofa from my ever expanding ass by extricating it to other places.  It was either that or kill my tv and I believe in peace, bitch.

Zing!

I can across this comment on a blog today and it made me laugh, cuz it's true. I've never heard this before and I love it.

"The great thing about being paranoid is that you're always the center of attention."

It's scary only if you think about it

Check this out  Flight Patterns

Interesting.

You cant spell Addiction without Dic

I firmly believe the best blogs are the ones that routinely feature nudity.  Tastefully of course.  Which is why MySpace has been a complete disappointment.  However, it's not a show-stopper for some others whose addiction is reaching new heights each day.  The bad poetry, stealth stalking, coded messages and bad photos awash in a sea of incestuous cliques and claques has drawn them in.  Some have to swear it off for days only to return desparately shaking while others are translating Canadian-French poetry into English on a profile for no explicable reason.  Where does it end?  Are we ever going to talk to any of these strangers in real life?  Will we ever get a chance for our closeup with anyone?  Not likely. It's just us, the servers and those wonderful people out there in the dark.

Simple is Better

Saw Jarhead.  It's not the explosive action packed, bruiser of a movie I thought it would be.  It also wasn't that deep unless I missed something on the first go 'round.  Very simple story with limited character development.  I would watch it again on a Sunday morning on cable.

I Heart Pranks!

tee hee hee

Friday's Menu Change

I Hear Vermont is Beautiful This Time of Year

Go Vermont!

Convention Held in Vermont to Discuss Seceding from the Union

I'm already checking housing prices....

Warning: Don't think too hard about this.

I stumbled upon this while viewing a fellow typepad site; Falling Sky

Prepare to view the 4th dimension

I heart science.

Illegal Photographing is Illegal

100% Crazy caught on tape...

http://www.ifilm.com/ifilmdetail/2682006

(Adjust your volume down on this one)

I believe!

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

Now if he could get some of his "followers" to lighten up a bit too....

 

If only the daylight theory was true.

Another Beautiful Day in Paradise

This morning I made my usual stop at the corner Quickie Mart to get my bucket of Diet Coke and begin my day.  As I was counting out my change to ensure I had enough for the Mega Bucket plus tax, I noticed a man standing off to the side of the building calmly smoking a cigarette with a sly grin on his face.  He was dressed in standard issue waiter/undertaker fare.  Black pants, black jacket, white shirt, black tie.

Since he wasn't wearing the typical jean short and Nascar t-shirt combo popular amongst the Quickie Mart patrons, I allowed eye contact.    For a split second I had an ominous feeling rush over me.  Not quite Deja Vu, but something close.  It was like recognizing that old friend you haven't seen in years then realizing you never really liked them anyway despite having that one memory of a great time.

As soon as our vision locked his grin widened and he said simply to me:  "It's another beautiful day in Paradise".  At this point my mind is racing to remember if there is a nearby half-way house or crazy bin, but nothing came up.   I forgot to mention that the sky was pitch grey and not a shred of sunlight to be found through the cloud cover.  I just smiled back and said "Yes. My goodness gracious, but it is a beautiful day."  I was secretly hoping I just cracked the code and would be handed the briefcase with cash and instructions for my secret mission. The instructions would be instantly discarded of course.  I wouldn't have time for a "mission" when there was so much cash to spend.  I've had my eye on a new Acura RL.

After a few seconds went by and I had not received the hand off, I figured it was time for me to continue my journey from the parking lot to the interior of the store.  My new friend then began to ask me if I worked at the Acura dealership in Orange Park, because he was about to go visit some friends there.  I queried back, "Friends at the dealership?"  He said ,"No. In Orange Park."  At this point I knew if I continued, the conversation was about to derail and crash straight into crazytown so I replied back that I did not work at said dealership and wished him a good day.  Normally, I would have probably gone along for the ride but it was early, and I really wanted my Diet Coke.

Before I could take my next two steps, he informed me that he was going to finish his cigarette there along side of the building.  "...away from the gas pumps.  I don't want to blow the place up." This was followed by an "all knowing" type of wink, as if I was "in" on the joke/terror threat.   "Well, we don't want that" I said.  "Where would I get my bucket of Diet Coke each morning?".  He took his last drag, grinned and began walking away.

As he walked away, I felt like I had just given the go ahead to begin Operation Blow it All to Hell to Agent Carnie Freak.  It was one of those weird conversations where you have to check to ensure that you are not the one who has suffered the break with reality.  Luckily, it was not me because As I noticed him walking away in full view, I knew I was the only one of the two of us that still had   enough sense to know you don't wear brown belts and brown shoes with black suits.

Run Papa Smurf! Run!

tee hee hee

 

What if....

Gawd expected the next messiah to have two mommies?

This story is both disturbing and disgusting and not just from the impact to Lesbian couples.  The proprosal will dictate how and under what conditions a woman may become pregnant outside of marriage.  Indiana to Regulate Assisted Pregnancies   Unfuckingbelievable.

Word on the Street

Apparently Judge Judy declined his offer.