Liz finally got on the blogger bandwagon:
http://youcandomore.blogspot.com/
There ya be. Support her so she doesn't give up on it, because life is much easier when everyone conforms. Or something.
Counter Thingy that Counts Crap
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
hey!!
Hyere's aa good idea.
Let me start my inaogreal drunken bolgoing.
blogging.
G.
Anyway.
Hey, let's recap the night i'm still a part of.
My fingers are tingly, firtst. of.
But let me start at at the begnging. Start.
I was working on the piefe of shit truck untila about 9. Then i decided tot meet lori an her firend up at LJ DUCKS wchis is nota actulally in ca[pital letters.
But ellen si gone...no...ellenw was gone since this is a a narttative.
Sine ellen was gone,I decied to meet lori and her criends at JL DUCKS (NOT IN CAPITAL LETTERS) LJ duscks.
We all hungout. This is a a new dynamic as part of the 'make friens'sad' initiative started by us.
ANway..we hugn out. Lori and her her rally drunk friend Heather. Wait. Heather, lori's really durnk frind whatned to dance. So somehow it was decieded to go to the "black" bar in Collinsville. Which, if yo know cville, there's apparently one. And I've never been to it,s o I was all up ons. Mainstreet blues club or some such. Anyway, I was clearly too drunk to drive, so this firefifither (fighter!) dude named Mike drove us all in his wickedassbigasstuck. diesel!.
We went in, and it was awesome. SO FUCKING AWESOME. Lots of hip-hop (obviously, beeing the 'gblack' bar and all). We were 4 of like 10 white people in the place, but it seriously was awesome. There were two like 600-70 year old white grandma chicks in there sittin gat a table drinking crown and cokes and bobbin their heads to Akon and TI and shit. It was srioucsly surreal and awesome. So fucking cool. Love that place. Anyway, eventually lori and hether and some dude leaft, leaving me and Mike, who left after stong drink and woutd up at Good times (also not tin caps lock). Hugn out, and talk ed for a while, then he dropped me off.
Long story long, people are awesome, and it's weird ahow people are interconneged. I hat like 5 different connections to mike alone. Kinda nuts. I'm drinking sprit.e.
Um, it's 2. Aweome. i seriously kick butt at brake jobs. tomorrows i ned to wax my mustang for a cruise sunday, then go go gokarting atnd play poker after eating the bombs ass mexincan food. I think i'm gettingd drunker as I type this blogentry. Why am i lblioggin!
Oh. Cuz i wanted to eat chips and typing apparently ckeeps me concious. good to know. typing is for fun. If I concentrate really well, I can type excellently. Typing should be a field sobreiotey tst. Ok maybe not.
Let me start my inaogreal drunken bolgoing.
blogging.
G.
Anyway.
Hey, let's recap the night i'm still a part of.
My fingers are tingly, firtst. of.
But let me start at at the begnging. Start.
I was working on the piefe of shit truck untila about 9. Then i decided tot meet lori an her firend up at LJ DUCKS wchis is nota actulally in ca[pital letters.
But ellen si gone...no...ellenw was gone since this is a a narttative.
Sine ellen was gone,I decied to meet lori and her criends at JL DUCKS (NOT IN CAPITAL LETTERS) LJ duscks.
We all hungout. This is a a new dynamic as part of the 'make friens'sad' initiative started by us.
ANway..we hugn out. Lori and her her rally drunk friend Heather. Wait. Heather, lori's really durnk frind whatned to dance. So somehow it was decieded to go to the "black" bar in Collinsville. Which, if yo know cville, there's apparently one. And I've never been to it,s o I was all up ons. Mainstreet blues club or some such. Anyway, I was clearly too drunk to drive, so this firefifither (fighter!) dude named Mike drove us all in his wickedassbigasstuck. diesel!.
We went in, and it was awesome. SO FUCKING AWESOME. Lots of hip-hop (obviously, beeing the 'gblack' bar and all). We were 4 of like 10 white people in the place, but it seriously was awesome. There were two like 600-70 year old white grandma chicks in there sittin gat a table drinking crown and cokes and bobbin their heads to Akon and TI and shit. It was srioucsly surreal and awesome. So fucking cool. Love that place. Anyway, eventually lori and hether and some dude leaft, leaving me and Mike, who left after stong drink and woutd up at Good times (also not tin caps lock). Hugn out, and talk ed for a while, then he dropped me off.
Long story long, people are awesome, and it's weird ahow people are interconneged. I hat like 5 different connections to mike alone. Kinda nuts. I'm drinking sprit.e.
Um, it's 2. Aweome. i seriously kick butt at brake jobs. tomorrows i ned to wax my mustang for a cruise sunday, then go go gokarting atnd play poker after eating the bombs ass mexincan food. I think i'm gettingd drunker as I type this blogentry. Why am i lblioggin!
Oh. Cuz i wanted to eat chips and typing apparently ckeeps me concious. good to know. typing is for fun. If I concentrate really well, I can type excellently. Typing should be a field sobreiotey tst. Ok maybe not.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Blarney and shit
Friday: Got home from work at some point, ate some food or something. People showed up at like 10:30 or so, and we hung out and drank a bit, making it an "early night", which apparently means 2am.
Saturday: Woke up at 7ish begrudgenly. At some sweet eggs and rolls via Ellen. Had a Guinness, while we waited for Helen/Eric/Beth to show up. Made rum and coke for the train ride, and headed out to the Metro stop. Rode train into Union Station, and made our way through to the street. Located the nearest booze vendor, acquired car bombs, Jager shots, and coffee drinks while laughing at marathoners. Ellen guilt-tripped herself into actually helping her work people with the balloon in the parade, so she splintered off around 10.
As often happens on the day of the Irish, the rest is blurry. Thanks to modern technology, I took some random pictures.
Rachel found the Guitar Army, but they decided to bring sousaphones and shit. Why they were wearing helmets, I have no idea. They apprently ignored Rachel as well.
At some point, I put a lit cigar in my mouth. The lit end. It sucked. No pictures of that, thank God.
Umm... Green egg breakfast burrito. Many random drunken text messages and mid-morning drunk dials.
Looking at my sent text log, I see this I sent to Jimmy at 1pm:
"fannit some pluts from kansas but in front of me"
Which should have actually said, "Dammit, some sluts from Kansas cut in front of me". Porta potty lines were borderline retarded after 11am. I do recall my bling-bling brass knuckles ("Cash Money") kept the hoes at bay though, and I retained my spot in the pee line. Actually, they were so drunk I just cut back in front of them.
Um, some lady was carrying around a bulldog with a little hat.
The parade wrapped up around 2 I think, then we had to wait for Ellen to make the trek back from the end of the route, which sucked since it was snowing at that point. Being awesome, we made our way to Panama Red's instead of Maggie O'Briens due to probably insanity. Drank more beer and had much corned beef products. Mosey'd back to the train and made our way back to the land of the IL.
Jim managed to secure a trophy from one of the original vendors on our way back to train:
Having no real use for it, it's now a staple of the Kingston garage/bar.
Mandated naptime occured while we watched Accepted with varying levels of conciousness. Rallied the troops around 8 for Taco Bell and more drinking. Rachel and Becky stayed at home due to pain and suffering (puking), while everyone else went to Hurricanes where the drinks were strong, and the hookers were slutty and drunken and gyrate-y. The jukebox of love continues to be more lovely.
Due to packed-ness we departed from Hurricanes around 11 and made our way back to the garage where more drinking was drank. Hung out in the garage for a while with Jim and the Lowns, then decided to make our way to the jacuzzi. Eventually Jim bowed out, then Ellen, leaving myself and the Lowns to drunkenly philosiphize(??) until about 5am. Stupid beer.
Sunday: Woke up around 10? 9? Dunno. Dragged the troops to Spring Garden for the wicked-smaaat omlets and hashbrowns and oraguntans. Or something. Good food, lots of State Troopers. Guests left around noon, Ellen and I slept from noon till 5. Ordered Dominos (the new garlic bread pizza is hellishly awesome but so dense). Watched TV and the Pick of Destiny (awesome) till around 830 or so, then went back to bed at 9.
Whew. Oddly, I suffered no ill consequence from my revelry throughout the weekend (no hangover to speak of). Current theory is that my body doesn't know what hit it.
Stats:
Hours spent drinking Saturday through Sunday Morning:
-16 (holy shit)
Number of Marboloro Ultra Lights smoked
-15 (my throat hurts)
Number of times we screamed at people to spin balloons during the parade:
-93
Number of times we were granted with a spinning balloon:
-3
Number of times retarded hooker at Hurricanes with the nice boobies in the tube top but the "hot chick entitlement" issues screamed "Wooo" whenever "her" song came on:
-8
Number of awesomeness happy good times had with awesome friends and way too much booze:
-uhh...a lot.
Saturday: Woke up at 7ish begrudgenly. At some sweet eggs and rolls via Ellen. Had a Guinness, while we waited for Helen/Eric/Beth to show up. Made rum and coke for the train ride, and headed out to the Metro stop. Rode train into Union Station, and made our way through to the street. Located the nearest booze vendor, acquired car bombs, Jager shots, and coffee drinks while laughing at marathoners. Ellen guilt-tripped herself into actually helping her work people with the balloon in the parade, so she splintered off around 10.
As often happens on the day of the Irish, the rest is blurry. Thanks to modern technology, I took some random pictures.
Rachel found the Guitar Army, but they decided to bring sousaphones and shit. Why they were wearing helmets, I have no idea. They apprently ignored Rachel as well.
At some point, I put a lit cigar in my mouth. The lit end. It sucked. No pictures of that, thank God.
Umm... Green egg breakfast burrito. Many random drunken text messages and mid-morning drunk dials.
Looking at my sent text log, I see this I sent to Jimmy at 1pm:
"fannit some pluts from kansas but in front of me"
Which should have actually said, "Dammit, some sluts from Kansas cut in front of me". Porta potty lines were borderline retarded after 11am. I do recall my bling-bling brass knuckles ("Cash Money") kept the hoes at bay though, and I retained my spot in the pee line. Actually, they were so drunk I just cut back in front of them.
Um, some lady was carrying around a bulldog with a little hat.
The parade wrapped up around 2 I think, then we had to wait for Ellen to make the trek back from the end of the route, which sucked since it was snowing at that point. Being awesome, we made our way to Panama Red's instead of Maggie O'Briens due to probably insanity. Drank more beer and had much corned beef products. Mosey'd back to the train and made our way back to the land of the IL.
Jim managed to secure a trophy from one of the original vendors on our way back to train:
Having no real use for it, it's now a staple of the Kingston garage/bar.Mandated naptime occured while we watched Accepted with varying levels of conciousness. Rallied the troops around 8 for Taco Bell and more drinking. Rachel and Becky stayed at home due to pain and suffering (puking), while everyone else went to Hurricanes where the drinks were strong, and the hookers were slutty and drunken and gyrate-y. The jukebox of love continues to be more lovely.
Due to packed-ness we departed from Hurricanes around 11 and made our way back to the garage where more drinking was drank. Hung out in the garage for a while with Jim and the Lowns, then decided to make our way to the jacuzzi. Eventually Jim bowed out, then Ellen, leaving myself and the Lowns to drunkenly philosiphize(??) until about 5am. Stupid beer.
Sunday: Woke up around 10? 9? Dunno. Dragged the troops to Spring Garden for the wicked-smaaat omlets and hashbrowns and oraguntans. Or something. Good food, lots of State Troopers. Guests left around noon, Ellen and I slept from noon till 5. Ordered Dominos (the new garlic bread pizza is hellishly awesome but so dense). Watched TV and the Pick of Destiny (awesome) till around 830 or so, then went back to bed at 9.
Whew. Oddly, I suffered no ill consequence from my revelry throughout the weekend (no hangover to speak of). Current theory is that my body doesn't know what hit it.
Stats:
Hours spent drinking Saturday through Sunday Morning:
-16 (holy shit)
Number of Marboloro Ultra Lights smoked
-15 (my throat hurts)
Number of times we screamed at people to spin balloons during the parade:
-93
Number of times we were granted with a spinning balloon:
-3
Number of times retarded hooker at Hurricanes with the nice boobies in the tube top but the "hot chick entitlement" issues screamed "Wooo" whenever "her" song came on:
-8
Number of awesomeness happy good times had with awesome friends and way too much booze:
-uhh...a lot.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The inaugural PITA post
Hi. Here's the first in what will probably be very many PITA posts (Pain In The Ass/Arse). I'll define a task and assign an arbitrary "PITA Rating" (pat. pending, est. 2007) to it. Then I'll offer some insight. It'll be awesome.
Here's the first draft of the scale; I'll even provide a band reference for clarity.
1 - Less of a PITA, more of a minor annoyance. Wouldn't want to put up with it every day, but definitely isn't detrimental to my health. Kinda like Van Halen with David Lee Roth.
2 - Something that takes more time than it probably should, isn't infuriating, but I'd sure like a beer or a pound of weed afterwards to settle me down. Like listening to Phish.
3 - Number three items just plain suck. They don't suck large donkey schlong, they just generally suck. Not really something I'd slit my wrists over, but dammit. Along the lines of listening to pretty much all country music after Johnny Cash was out of the game, and or Alabama after 1986.
4 - Not quite the most tedious or nasty thing I've ever dealt with in my life, but pretty damn close. Number 4 items require all people within a 100 foot radius of me to leave me the hell alone, because I'll probably bite their heads off if they try to reason with me. Rush's Greatest Hits on infinite repeat.
5 - I'd rather be slamming the heads of puppies together for 4 hours than dealing with a #5. And I love puppies. Let's put it this way: Nickelback. On full blast. Every day, for the rest of your life.
Sometimes I'll even compare two items, like here:
Cleaning Dog Diarrhea Off Living Room Carpet
PITA Rating: 4
I know I shouldn't start off so bad, but seriously. Wow. Boris had a massive accident sometime during the night on Saturday after we'd gone to bed. This rating is only compounded by the fact that I was mildly hungover, and woken up at 6am to deal with this. Then it was onto towling everything up, renting a rug shampooer from the store, and doing the majority of the house "since we had it". Then of course, there's dealing with the nappy-ass poo/water concoction that the machine spits out. Poo.
Cleaning Dog Diarrhea Off Kitchen Ceramic Tile
PITA Rating: 2
Definitely nowhere near as bad as a rug. Tile obviously lends itself a little better to the cleanup of...liquid poo. Really, given the smell, I shoulda put this as a 3, but the actual act wasn't that bad. Yes, the dog is going to the vet.
Here's the first draft of the scale; I'll even provide a band reference for clarity.
1 - Less of a PITA, more of a minor annoyance. Wouldn't want to put up with it every day, but definitely isn't detrimental to my health. Kinda like Van Halen with David Lee Roth.
2 - Something that takes more time than it probably should, isn't infuriating, but I'd sure like a beer or a pound of weed afterwards to settle me down. Like listening to Phish.
3 - Number three items just plain suck. They don't suck large donkey schlong, they just generally suck. Not really something I'd slit my wrists over, but dammit. Along the lines of listening to pretty much all country music after Johnny Cash was out of the game, and or Alabama after 1986.
4 - Not quite the most tedious or nasty thing I've ever dealt with in my life, but pretty damn close. Number 4 items require all people within a 100 foot radius of me to leave me the hell alone, because I'll probably bite their heads off if they try to reason with me. Rush's Greatest Hits on infinite repeat.
5 - I'd rather be slamming the heads of puppies together for 4 hours than dealing with a #5. And I love puppies. Let's put it this way: Nickelback. On full blast. Every day, for the rest of your life.
Sometimes I'll even compare two items, like here:
Cleaning Dog Diarrhea Off Living Room Carpet
PITA Rating: 4
I know I shouldn't start off so bad, but seriously. Wow. Boris had a massive accident sometime during the night on Saturday after we'd gone to bed. This rating is only compounded by the fact that I was mildly hungover, and woken up at 6am to deal with this. Then it was onto towling everything up, renting a rug shampooer from the store, and doing the majority of the house "since we had it". Then of course, there's dealing with the nappy-ass poo/water concoction that the machine spits out. Poo.
Cleaning Dog Diarrhea Off Kitchen Ceramic Tile
PITA Rating: 2
Definitely nowhere near as bad as a rug. Tile obviously lends itself a little better to the cleanup of...liquid poo. Really, given the smell, I shoulda put this as a 3, but the actual act wasn't that bad. Yes, the dog is going to the vet.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Stupid star that provides light and heat for Earth
FYI: It is completely possible to get a sunburn in March in Illinois apparently. But only on your head. If it's shaved. And you spent 6 hours driving around in a convertible. With no hat. Ouch.
Sorry, I'm whacktose intolerant
Friday: Umm.... Oh. Met up with Nate/Beth at Friday's South, the newish bar in beautiful downtown Collinsville. They have Newcastle on tap. It's neat. Belhaven pints for $2. Yay.
Anyway, my friend from FGI, Lori was there with her posse, who included Beth/Nate's neighbor. Hung out for quite a while chatting up the randoms, making friends, doing the networking thang. Good times. Hung out till about 11, where we decided we'd jacuzzi it up for a bit. Got the call after buying booze that the Lowns were out, so being the troopers we are, we headed back up to the bar, wound up hanging out until 2 with this dude Matt and his girlfriend, whos name I can't remember. He's a firefighter in Granite, most of that circle is all EMT type folks. We swapped phone numbers in a total heterosexual way. Apparently the bar never closes because they were still serving at 2:30, but that was about the point we headed home, since we had to help Helen move on Saturday, and were going to make it an early night. Whoops.
Saturday: Woke up way too early, and way too hungover to move. Had some McDonalds', which helped. Headed over to Helen's apartment, loaded up the trucks, and rolled over to her & eric's new townhouse (same place as our old one). Got parked, got a call from Nate that his truck had blown up in MO. Had Lance roll me back to the house so I could get a toolbox and Mustang, and hauled ass out to Webster Groves to see if we couldn't get the thing running.
Wound up, it had thrown a belt, overheated, and blew the upper radiator hose in half. Procured a new belt as a safety precaution. Spent the next 5 hours trying to locate the eluvise retarded Dodge upper radiator hose with a cap in the middle of it. During a run to a NAPA downtown, I got the distress call from Robdrea that their load was light and flying out of the truck, and were in need of logistical assistance. Realizing I was closer than I thought, flipped a bitch, hauled ass to the retirement home they were parked at and helped offset their load, led them back to Nate's truck where they unpacked enough to keep things straight and got additional straps. Then I found Nate's wedding band, and saved a kitten from a tree. (well, not the kitten).
On the severe plus side, it was nice as shit out, around 65-70 degrees, so I was happy to be driving all over the greater STL Metro area with the top down and the JayZ bumpin. Set back out in search of the hose. Wound up at a NAPA in the ghetto, got a little turned around, Nate made a few calls, and we found a Dodge dealer in the far south end of town that had the hose in stock. Elated, we hauled balls to deep south county, got the hose, and rolled back to Nate's truck. Replaced hose (after making yet another run for a different hose clamp). Got new belt on, threw in some coolant, had Nate crank it over, and blammo, threw the belt after running for 2 seconds. Re-re-ran the belt, had him fire it up again, same thing.
Triple checked everything, came to the conclusion CSI-stylie that the waterpump had mostly siezed (it was hard to turn by hand), causing the belt to dismount, and the resultant heat from stuff not circulating caused the pressure to build up in the cooling system, blowing the upper hose in the weak plastic area around the filler cap (Dodge guy said it was pretty common). So, happiness turned to defeat pretty quickly, despite our working on the thing for about 4-5 hours. Hauled ass back to Cville, let nate take my truck so he could go home and meet Beth and go work a wedding that night. Robdrea/Lance/Ellen and I hung out, drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of food, had a lot of fire and chillin. Good times. Ended kinda early, which was completley fine with me due to being out in the sun all damn day, and getting no sleep the night before.
Sunday: Ellen woke up around 6 to take some advil for her hangover, and discovered that between all the people food Boris ate the night before, and random shit he prolly ate off the ground, had developed a nasty case of the shits in the middle of the night around most of the living room. Opened the house to vent the smell, and headed to the store to rent a rug cleaner. So much for the day of rest. Spent the morning steam-cleaning the fuck outta the living room, and knocked out the spare bedroom as well since we had it. Ate food at some point, put the house back together, then I passed the fuck out for about 3 hours. Woke up, took back the cleaner, got movies, hit wally world for random shit, and grabbed some food. Watched Stranger than Fiction and The Departed. Departed rocked my butt, but i kinda felt robbed with the ending, the Ferrell movie was kinda interesting, but the ending kinda let down as well.
Whew. Weekend.
Anyway, my friend from FGI, Lori was there with her posse, who included Beth/Nate's neighbor. Hung out for quite a while chatting up the randoms, making friends, doing the networking thang. Good times. Hung out till about 11, where we decided we'd jacuzzi it up for a bit. Got the call after buying booze that the Lowns were out, so being the troopers we are, we headed back up to the bar, wound up hanging out until 2 with this dude Matt and his girlfriend, whos name I can't remember. He's a firefighter in Granite, most of that circle is all EMT type folks. We swapped phone numbers in a total heterosexual way. Apparently the bar never closes because they were still serving at 2:30, but that was about the point we headed home, since we had to help Helen move on Saturday, and were going to make it an early night. Whoops.
Saturday: Woke up way too early, and way too hungover to move. Had some McDonalds', which helped. Headed over to Helen's apartment, loaded up the trucks, and rolled over to her & eric's new townhouse (same place as our old one). Got parked, got a call from Nate that his truck had blown up in MO. Had Lance roll me back to the house so I could get a toolbox and Mustang, and hauled ass out to Webster Groves to see if we couldn't get the thing running.
Wound up, it had thrown a belt, overheated, and blew the upper radiator hose in half. Procured a new belt as a safety precaution. Spent the next 5 hours trying to locate the eluvise retarded Dodge upper radiator hose with a cap in the middle of it. During a run to a NAPA downtown, I got the distress call from Robdrea that their load was light and flying out of the truck, and were in need of logistical assistance. Realizing I was closer than I thought, flipped a bitch, hauled ass to the retirement home they were parked at and helped offset their load, led them back to Nate's truck where they unpacked enough to keep things straight and got additional straps. Then I found Nate's wedding band, and saved a kitten from a tree. (well, not the kitten).
On the severe plus side, it was nice as shit out, around 65-70 degrees, so I was happy to be driving all over the greater STL Metro area with the top down and the JayZ bumpin. Set back out in search of the hose. Wound up at a NAPA in the ghetto, got a little turned around, Nate made a few calls, and we found a Dodge dealer in the far south end of town that had the hose in stock. Elated, we hauled balls to deep south county, got the hose, and rolled back to Nate's truck. Replaced hose (after making yet another run for a different hose clamp). Got new belt on, threw in some coolant, had Nate crank it over, and blammo, threw the belt after running for 2 seconds. Re-re-ran the belt, had him fire it up again, same thing.
Triple checked everything, came to the conclusion CSI-stylie that the waterpump had mostly siezed (it was hard to turn by hand), causing the belt to dismount, and the resultant heat from stuff not circulating caused the pressure to build up in the cooling system, blowing the upper hose in the weak plastic area around the filler cap (Dodge guy said it was pretty common). So, happiness turned to defeat pretty quickly, despite our working on the thing for about 4-5 hours. Hauled ass back to Cville, let nate take my truck so he could go home and meet Beth and go work a wedding that night. Robdrea/Lance/Ellen and I hung out, drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of food, had a lot of fire and chillin. Good times. Ended kinda early, which was completley fine with me due to being out in the sun all damn day, and getting no sleep the night before.
Sunday: Ellen woke up around 6 to take some advil for her hangover, and discovered that between all the people food Boris ate the night before, and random shit he prolly ate off the ground, had developed a nasty case of the shits in the middle of the night around most of the living room. Opened the house to vent the smell, and headed to the store to rent a rug cleaner. So much for the day of rest. Spent the morning steam-cleaning the fuck outta the living room, and knocked out the spare bedroom as well since we had it. Ate food at some point, put the house back together, then I passed the fuck out for about 3 hours. Woke up, took back the cleaner, got movies, hit wally world for random shit, and grabbed some food. Watched Stranger than Fiction and The Departed. Departed rocked my butt, but i kinda felt robbed with the ending, the Ferrell movie was kinda interesting, but the ending kinda let down as well.
Whew. Weekend.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
boom shacka lacka
I managed to forego the lure of McDonald's for Jimmy John's. #8 is my savior. Goddamn, that hit the spot.
blargar
Few things:
1-- Kinda hungover this morning due to stupid $1.50 bottles and owning the bar a few blocks from the house. (Ducks). I require McDonald's or Rally's to really straighten myself out and get any sort of work done today. Ohhh... Maybe Wendy's. That sounds good. Regardless, it's only 10:15. So I'm kinda screwed from that aspect. The aspect of productivity, that is.
2--Took table and chairs over to Helen's new place last night. F150s hold a lot of shit. It's kinda neat. It was pretty weird walking into their new place, since it is the same complex/units we lived in before we bought the house, so it was very deja-vu...ish.
3--Why the hell is it only Thursday. This whole "I've only worked a complete 40 hour week 3 times since Thanksgiving" jive kinda spoiled me I guess.
4--I should have bought (and won) MegaMillions yesterday. Bills are the sucky. So sick of finances and whatnots. Need a windfall.
5--I'd like to know why it is sunny all week, then raining on the weekends in spring, when I want to be outside working on the yard and shit. I'm old. Also, I'd like to know why it's hovering constantly around the 60* mark, which is just a tad too cold to have the top down on the Mustang and infuriating.
6--The past couple weeks have taught me that I really need to buckle down and cram my brain full of Cisco router and Exchange knowledge. In general, I really need to get back into working on my certifications. But the desire to learn is nil. So torn. I need greasy food to focus.
7--Few things suck worse than getting home at 12:30 and waking up at 6ish. One thing that sucks worse is having a dresser fall over at 3am and being up for a while making the dog stop shaking and re-assembling said dresser. I'm death warmed over today.
8--People in this office need to realize that this isn't the set of "Friends", and that I actually can hear them talk about me when I'm 6 feet away. I know I'm quiet. It's mostly because I don't like this office environment. Part due to hangover/tired. Quit talking about me.
Love,
JK
1-- Kinda hungover this morning due to stupid $1.50 bottles and owning the bar a few blocks from the house. (Ducks). I require McDonald's or Rally's to really straighten myself out and get any sort of work done today. Ohhh... Maybe Wendy's. That sounds good. Regardless, it's only 10:15. So I'm kinda screwed from that aspect. The aspect of productivity, that is.
2--Took table and chairs over to Helen's new place last night. F150s hold a lot of shit. It's kinda neat. It was pretty weird walking into their new place, since it is the same complex/units we lived in before we bought the house, so it was very deja-vu...ish.
3--Why the hell is it only Thursday. This whole "I've only worked a complete 40 hour week 3 times since Thanksgiving" jive kinda spoiled me I guess.
4--I should have bought (and won) MegaMillions yesterday. Bills are the sucky. So sick of finances and whatnots. Need a windfall.
5--I'd like to know why it is sunny all week, then raining on the weekends in spring, when I want to be outside working on the yard and shit. I'm old. Also, I'd like to know why it's hovering constantly around the 60* mark, which is just a tad too cold to have the top down on the Mustang and infuriating.
6--The past couple weeks have taught me that I really need to buckle down and cram my brain full of Cisco router and Exchange knowledge. In general, I really need to get back into working on my certifications. But the desire to learn is nil. So torn. I need greasy food to focus.
7--Few things suck worse than getting home at 12:30 and waking up at 6ish. One thing that sucks worse is having a dresser fall over at 3am and being up for a while making the dog stop shaking and re-assembling said dresser. I'm death warmed over today.
8--People in this office need to realize that this isn't the set of "Friends", and that I actually can hear them talk about me when I'm 6 feet away. I know I'm quiet. It's mostly because I don't like this office environment. Part due to hangover/tired. Quit talking about me.
Love,
JK
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Savor that shit
I just finished the last piece of a candy cane I've had on my desk since....well, December, being a candy cane and all.
It's mint-tastical.
It's mint-tastical.
Sweetness
Thanks to the wonders of VLC and a sweet-ass batch script, I'm able to finally convert basically any video files into WMV pretty easily, which means I can watch them on the 42" DLP via Xbox 360 instead of the 17" LCD in the office. This makes me so happy on so many levels. When our DVR sucks butt and decides not to tape something super-important like Lost or Heroes, I can grab the show off bittorrent and watch it in pseudo-HD in the living room, which is a step above what the SD DVR provides, anyway. W00t.
In further celebration, I made a stride in my piracy and downloaded a movie, (gasp) Beer League, starring Artie Lange and Ralph "Karate Kid" Maccio. Amazingly, it didn't completley suck. Was it fine cinema? No. But, we did make it through the whole thing, and if you know us, we're pretty apt and pulling the plug on something that just isn't clicking with us. (Cold & Dark, Dukes of Hazzard, Miami Vice come to mind). The whole thing was fucks and toilet humor layered over a half-wit very shallow story, but it was good mindless entertainment for a couple hours.
No point here, kinda avoiding doing real work at the moment. It's sunny out, and all I see is blue sky out my window, and it's 3:30p. Damn.
In further celebration, I made a stride in my piracy and downloaded a movie, (gasp) Beer League, starring Artie Lange and Ralph "Karate Kid" Maccio. Amazingly, it didn't completley suck. Was it fine cinema? No. But, we did make it through the whole thing, and if you know us, we're pretty apt and pulling the plug on something that just isn't clicking with us. (Cold & Dark, Dukes of Hazzard, Miami Vice come to mind). The whole thing was fucks and toilet humor layered over a half-wit very shallow story, but it was good mindless entertainment for a couple hours.
No point here, kinda avoiding doing real work at the moment. It's sunny out, and all I see is blue sky out my window, and it's 3:30p. Damn.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Say Uncle!!!
Yah, I'm an uncle. It's neat.
Friday: Met the Lammles and Lowns at Llewylns for luscious liquids and uh..... lavish... I can't think of a word for food that starts with "L". Had food. It was good. Lots of beer. Actually, not that much, but Fat Tire has a very strange effect of kicking my ass in a bad way on draught. Drove home, passed out.
Saturday: Woke up entirely too early, drove really fast to Indianapolis to see new niece. Saw Norah, she's tiny, and doesn't do much besides drink from a bottle, look around, sleep and cry. While I'm happy for everyone, since I don't have a uterus, I think the glory is kinda lost on me. Sat around, drank a lot of Sam Adams with the father-in-law, watched a lot of movies... Army of Darkness, Maverik, V for Vendetta. Completely gorged self on Monicals. They have Monicals in Indy. It's awesome. If it wasn't for being in Indiana, I'd totally move.
Sunday: Woke up, watched Space Cowboys, ate more Monical's, watched people hold baby, left. Sat in traffic jam for about a half hour, then hauled ass the rest of the way back to C-ville. Got home, promptly threw on pajamas, did laundry, and sat on our asses the rest of the day. Ordered Dominos, watched Being John Malkovich for the first time (yes, I know). Mind was blown, it was fun. Watched a lot of TV.
Friday: Met the Lammles and Lowns at Llewylns for luscious liquids and uh..... lavish... I can't think of a word for food that starts with "L". Had food. It was good. Lots of beer. Actually, not that much, but Fat Tire has a very strange effect of kicking my ass in a bad way on draught. Drove home, passed out.
Saturday: Woke up entirely too early, drove really fast to Indianapolis to see new niece. Saw Norah, she's tiny, and doesn't do much besides drink from a bottle, look around, sleep and cry. While I'm happy for everyone, since I don't have a uterus, I think the glory is kinda lost on me. Sat around, drank a lot of Sam Adams with the father-in-law, watched a lot of movies... Army of Darkness, Maverik, V for Vendetta. Completely gorged self on Monicals. They have Monicals in Indy. It's awesome. If it wasn't for being in Indiana, I'd totally move.
Sunday: Woke up, watched Space Cowboys, ate more Monical's, watched people hold baby, left. Sat in traffic jam for about a half hour, then hauled ass the rest of the way back to C-ville. Got home, promptly threw on pajamas, did laundry, and sat on our asses the rest of the day. Ordered Dominos, watched Being John Malkovich for the first time (yes, I know). Mind was blown, it was fun. Watched a lot of TV.
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