Counter Thingy that Counts Crap
Friday, June 29, 2007
Marketing!!! 'd!
I bought Axe deodorant. It smells nice. I can't find the Degree shit i've been buying for years anymore, so i'm making the rounds trying to find a new fashang. I can't keep the hoes offa me now.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
District of Columbia...'d.
Friday: Flew out to DC for Librarian conference deally. Uhm....did I do anything? I can't remember. I don't think so, really. Hung out, ate food at some point I think. Wtf did I do? Wow. Uhmmm... Well, I probably ate, went for a walk around Alexandria downtown cuz I was bored offa my arse. Wound up back at the hotel bar, had a few rounds and chatted with some Minnesota dude with a Minnesotan accent that was killing me to not laugh at, wound up talking about GPS and cropdusting, pretty interesting and random. Went to sleep at some point. I guess. Oh, IRC'd for some reason, just like old times.
Saturday: Woke up, had awesome breakfast at this little diner-y joint. Went to convention, walked my ass off around exhibit halls for like 4 hours. It sucked. Ate a hot dog. Tasty. Went back to hotel, plopped down at the bar again, wound up talking to the dude that owned the joint. Random. Decided to hop a cab down to King Street, landed at Murphy's Unoriginally-name Irish Pub. Found a spot at the bar and proceeded the downward spiral while chatting up more randoms, and listening to a badass Irish guitarist-man singing Irish shit then hopping over to Jon Denver and other random stuffs. Way awesome, crowd was rowdy as shit and singing along, pretty awesome. Wound up hanging out with some geek chick who was fresh from a WoW session. No, I'm serious. She was cool otherwise though. Um, got pulled for some random arm-wrestling match with a drunken irish guy (who saw that coming), and lost horribly. Hung out with some airforce guy who just got back for Iraq, like 2 hours prior. Bought him many beers cuz I'm patriotic and shit. Drank way too much way different stuffs, had Yuengling finally, but was too plowed to taste it.
Closed the bar down around 2, stumbled back to the hotel after apparently stopping at a gas station, and buying a Snickers and bottle of water. Apparently drunk dialed Chris and Liz, not sure how that went. Apparently hit the snack machine at the hotel, bought a bottle of ginger ale, lemon cookies and Fridays potato skin chips. Hadn't ate the snickers/water yet. So I had a lot of snack items. Ate some random shit, fought the urge to puke, and watched Poker on TV.
Sunday: Slept until like 2. So hungover. Still burping beer/vodka, actually. Went to convention center again after eating Wendys. Wandered around for a bit, then went to a RFID mixer thing with free beer, awesome. Had awesome italian food. Came back and blogged. Oh wait, I just caught up. Um, I guess that's it. Flying out tomorrow afternoon.
I saw many sights in DC, including DC's awesome (compared to STL) train system, saw the Washington Monument (from the train), saw the White house (from the hotel where the RFID thing was). Did I mention I'm not into sightseeing?
Ok, I'm out.
Saturday: Woke up, had awesome breakfast at this little diner-y joint. Went to convention, walked my ass off around exhibit halls for like 4 hours. It sucked. Ate a hot dog. Tasty. Went back to hotel, plopped down at the bar again, wound up talking to the dude that owned the joint. Random. Decided to hop a cab down to King Street, landed at Murphy's Unoriginally-name Irish Pub. Found a spot at the bar and proceeded the downward spiral while chatting up more randoms, and listening to a badass Irish guitarist-man singing Irish shit then hopping over to Jon Denver and other random stuffs. Way awesome, crowd was rowdy as shit and singing along, pretty awesome. Wound up hanging out with some geek chick who was fresh from a WoW session. No, I'm serious. She was cool otherwise though. Um, got pulled for some random arm-wrestling match with a drunken irish guy (who saw that coming), and lost horribly. Hung out with some airforce guy who just got back for Iraq, like 2 hours prior. Bought him many beers cuz I'm patriotic and shit. Drank way too much way different stuffs, had Yuengling finally, but was too plowed to taste it.
Closed the bar down around 2, stumbled back to the hotel after apparently stopping at a gas station, and buying a Snickers and bottle of water. Apparently drunk dialed Chris and Liz, not sure how that went. Apparently hit the snack machine at the hotel, bought a bottle of ginger ale, lemon cookies and Fridays potato skin chips. Hadn't ate the snickers/water yet. So I had a lot of snack items. Ate some random shit, fought the urge to puke, and watched Poker on TV.
Sunday: Slept until like 2. So hungover. Still burping beer/vodka, actually. Went to convention center again after eating Wendys. Wandered around for a bit, then went to a RFID mixer thing with free beer, awesome. Had awesome italian food. Came back and blogged. Oh wait, I just caught up. Um, I guess that's it. Flying out tomorrow afternoon.
I saw many sights in DC, including DC's awesome (compared to STL) train system, saw the Washington Monument (from the train), saw the White house (from the hotel where the RFID thing was). Did I mention I'm not into sightseeing?
Ok, I'm out.
Friday, June 22, 2007
holy neat
I'm definitely sitting at Lambert, which is wifi-less, and bloggering cuz I'm a complete badass. Definitely tethered my Q to my laptop with PDANet, and it's the most coolest awesome shit on the face of the earth, comma, holycrap.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Chattanooga...'d?
Thursday: Snuck out of the office at noon. Swung through this tiny cigar shop downtown Alton I kept seeing, awesome place. Close to work. I'm screwed. Got gas, and hauled ass. Made awesome time until I hit the big red line in Nashville, TN that was on my Google Maps (love you, Moto Q). Waited around in traffic for the better part of an hour. Sucked. My dumbass somehow managed to land in the the Friday rush at 5pm. Awesome. Got through that, stopped and ate some McD's, got gas, dropped the top, and was back on the road again.
Went to pass someone, when I heard a screwball "pop-pop-pop-pop" under the hood. Hrm. Hit gas. Pop-pop-pop. Hrm. Pulled over, popped hood, saw the Coil-on-plug module for the #3 cylinder dancing to the beat of the popping. Fuck. See, the 99-02 2v GT heads have a pretty common flaw in that there's only about two threads holding the spark plugs in, and under light detonation or boost, the cylinder pressure will pop them out, taking those 2 threads out of the head with it, usually requiring at least a heli-coil, sometimes a new head (MSRP-$1k+labor). If you're lucky, the threads stay on the plug, and out of the engine.
Assuming the worst, and knowing I was nowhere near anything and about 60 miles outside of Chattanooga, I was pissssssed. Got on the phone with Allstate Motorclub to get a tow truck, and my brain melted.
Me: "Yeah, need a towtruck"
AS Retard: "OK, where are you?"
me: "No clue. I'm sitting in front of the sign for exit 117 on 24E"
ASR: "Well, what town is that?"
me: "bla bla airforce something"
ASR: "What was the last town you passed?"
me: "wasn't paying attention, didn't plan on breaking down and having to call for a tow, can't you look that up in any way?"
I'm subsequentially put on hold for about 10 minutes while she tries to find me. Meanwhile, two TN troopers pull up behind me and sit for about 5 minutes. I figure they're running my tags, and I get out (with my hands up) and walk up, and find out I'm outside of Manchester, TN. Hang up, and put in a new call for a tow, and wait (and smoke like 5 cigs).
Truck shows up about 20m later, and after deciphering what the driver is saying, we're en route back up the road to Al White Ford in beautiful downtown Manchester, TN:
Dealership was closed by this time, so we just dumped the car in the lot, and the driver directed me to De Ja Vu, the bar across the street, and noted it was karaokee night. Fab. I had Nate en route from Chatty, so I mosey'd over to drown my sorrow/anger in booze and Camel Lights.
Met a few of the locals, "BoDawg", whose favorite color is clear, and his large, denim-shirt-with-no-sleeves-and-half-unbuttoned-shirt-wearing friend, either Scooter or Stubby or Smarty or smoething. Nice folk.
Of note: you can't buy hard alcohol in a bar in Manchester, TN. You can, however, go to the gas station next door, buy some booze, bring it back, and they can put Coke in it for you.
Anyway, Nate finally showed up, and we rolled back into Chatty, met up with Chris, and drank copious amounts of beer until 4am.
Friday: Since Al White Ford didn't have a keydrop box, Chris and I had to wake up at 6:30, and drive the hour back to Manchester to drop of my key and get the Mustang looked at when they opened at 7:30. Suck. Dropped off the car with the service manager, who said they'd get right to it. Which normally means, "we'll fix it when we're good and ready, you arrogant Yank prick". But to my amazement, they pulled it in and had it apart before I'd finished signing off on the paperwork. Chris & I headed up to Cracker Barrell for some much-needed coffee and gravy-covered foodstuffs. Got back, and the car was done. $78 later, the spark plug had apparnetly just worked itself loose (again, due to the short threads), but left everything intact. The roadtrip Gods had smiled upon me, and I made multiple mental notes to create a comprehensive car-based toolbox.
Drove back to Nate's, slept till about noon. Or two. Sometime. Woke up, got cleaned up, and went to Steve's Landing for some sweet tay (tea) and fan-fucking-tastic rib lovin'. Got back, drank some more beers, and headed downtown to CBC, which was this awesome pool hall/cigar bar/regular bar multi-level thing downtown. Again, they were rocking the library-style bar with ladder. Must be the new thing. Hot chicks abounded, beer and pool was cheap and plentiful.
Left around midnight, went back to Nate's for more beer (nach), more Bomberman, and more beer. Nate bowed out around 4, Chris and I stayed up chatting about Doritos X-13Ds and drinking till 6ish.
Saturday: This section of the trip is subtitled "Bad Ideas". Woke up around noon or so, hit Waffle House for a huge pile of shredded potatos covered in whatever they could scrounge up, and a waffle. Delicious. Pooped for days. Bought copious amounts of beef byproducts and canned pickled cabbage. And beer. Went out to James Roberts (aka Diesel) house for drunken Slip n' Slide. Knowing my track record with TN-based physical activities, I made sure my insurance was up-to-date, and noted the location of the nearest hospital.
Oh, and Nate made us stop and buy baby oil on the way.
The 'course' consisited of a large inflatable kiddy pool at the bottom of a steeply-sloped lot that would be covered in visqueen plastic, and properly lubricated with water, beer, dish soap, baby oil, and God knows what else.
Setup:
The final product:
Wayner/April and Tay-um/Jenniffer showed up shortly after. Wayne was half-nude and lubed within about 10 minutes of arrival. Quite the trooper. I stood by (drinking) and monitored the situation before annointing myself with ancient oils and diving in headlong myself.
Wound up slipping and/or sliding from about 4 until 9, with varying degrees of success and homo-eroticism. Such is expected when 4-5 grown half-nude men are dousing each other with dish soap/baby oil and riding them down a greased/wet sheet of plastic, much like a sled. While singing Journey. What? No, I'm serious. It's exactly as gay as it sounds.
Had some tasty grilled meats and assorted desserts, did a beer bong, more sliding, then we cleaned up, drank more beer, and then we attempted to drunken ATV in sandals, which was a complete failure, which was magnified by the fact that the trail Diesel was intending us to take was somehow missing.
Anyway, we left there around 11 after hanging out for a bit (and drinking more). Went back to Nate's, where there was, you guessed it, more drinking and Bomberman. Chris tapped out around 1, myself around 2. Woken up at 4 by drunk Ellen. Back to bed until about 7:30.
Sunday: Woke up, slapped on deodorant, packed up and hit the road. 6.5 hours later, I arrived unscathed but tired, in Collinsville. Ate BW3, took massive nap, caught up on Tivo, watched some Miami Ink, and hit the bed hard at 9ish.
My body currently feels like...well, like I'm some sort of idiot who slip and slides drunk on a very hard surface. Current damage count is as follows:
2 bruised ribs (bottom left, top right)
1 severely bruised knee (left)
5 bruised toes (seriously, the tops of my toes on my left foot are fucked)
abs of pain (I'm assuming this is mostly from straining myself to keep Deisel's quad from flipping over on the pseudo-trail)
General muscular pain.
All in all,
AWESOME TRIP.
Went to pass someone, when I heard a screwball "pop-pop-pop-pop" under the hood. Hrm. Hit gas. Pop-pop-pop. Hrm. Pulled over, popped hood, saw the Coil-on-plug module for the #3 cylinder dancing to the beat of the popping. Fuck. See, the 99-02 2v GT heads have a pretty common flaw in that there's only about two threads holding the spark plugs in, and under light detonation or boost, the cylinder pressure will pop them out, taking those 2 threads out of the head with it, usually requiring at least a heli-coil, sometimes a new head (MSRP-$1k+labor). If you're lucky, the threads stay on the plug, and out of the engine.
Assuming the worst, and knowing I was nowhere near anything and about 60 miles outside of Chattanooga, I was pissssssed. Got on the phone with Allstate Motorclub to get a tow truck, and my brain melted.
Me: "Yeah, need a towtruck"
AS Retard: "OK, where are you?"
me: "No clue. I'm sitting in front of the sign for exit 117 on 24E"
ASR: "Well, what town is that?"
me: "bla bla airforce something"
ASR: "What was the last town you passed?"
me: "wasn't paying attention, didn't plan on breaking down and having to call for a tow, can't you look that up in any way?"
I'm subsequentially put on hold for about 10 minutes while she tries to find me. Meanwhile, two TN troopers pull up behind me and sit for about 5 minutes. I figure they're running my tags, and I get out (with my hands up) and walk up, and find out I'm outside of Manchester, TN. Hang up, and put in a new call for a tow, and wait (and smoke like 5 cigs).
Truck shows up about 20m later, and after deciphering what the driver is saying, we're en route back up the road to Al White Ford in beautiful downtown Manchester, TN:
Dealership was closed by this time, so we just dumped the car in the lot, and the driver directed me to De Ja Vu, the bar across the street, and noted it was karaokee night. Fab. I had Nate en route from Chatty, so I mosey'd over to drown my sorrow/anger in booze and Camel Lights.
Met a few of the locals, "BoDawg", whose favorite color is clear, and his large, denim-shirt-with-no-sleeves-and-half-unbuttoned-shirt-wearing friend, either Scooter or Stubby or Smarty or smoething. Nice folk.
Of note: you can't buy hard alcohol in a bar in Manchester, TN. You can, however, go to the gas station next door, buy some booze, bring it back, and they can put Coke in it for you.
Anyway, Nate finally showed up, and we rolled back into Chatty, met up with Chris, and drank copious amounts of beer until 4am.
Friday: Since Al White Ford didn't have a keydrop box, Chris and I had to wake up at 6:30, and drive the hour back to Manchester to drop of my key and get the Mustang looked at when they opened at 7:30. Suck. Dropped off the car with the service manager, who said they'd get right to it. Which normally means, "we'll fix it when we're good and ready, you arrogant Yank prick". But to my amazement, they pulled it in and had it apart before I'd finished signing off on the paperwork. Chris & I headed up to Cracker Barrell for some much-needed coffee and gravy-covered foodstuffs. Got back, and the car was done. $78 later, the spark plug had apparnetly just worked itself loose (again, due to the short threads), but left everything intact. The roadtrip Gods had smiled upon me, and I made multiple mental notes to create a comprehensive car-based toolbox.
Drove back to Nate's, slept till about noon. Or two. Sometime. Woke up, got cleaned up, and went to Steve's Landing for some sweet tay (tea) and fan-fucking-tastic rib lovin'. Got back, drank some more beers, and headed downtown to CBC, which was this awesome pool hall/cigar bar/regular bar multi-level thing downtown. Again, they were rocking the library-style bar with ladder. Must be the new thing. Hot chicks abounded, beer and pool was cheap and plentiful.
Left around midnight, went back to Nate's for more beer (nach), more Bomberman, and more beer. Nate bowed out around 4, Chris and I stayed up chatting about Doritos X-13Ds and drinking till 6ish.
Saturday: This section of the trip is subtitled "Bad Ideas". Woke up around noon or so, hit Waffle House for a huge pile of shredded potatos covered in whatever they could scrounge up, and a waffle. Delicious. Pooped for days. Bought copious amounts of beef byproducts and canned pickled cabbage. And beer. Went out to James Roberts (aka Diesel) house for drunken Slip n' Slide. Knowing my track record with TN-based physical activities, I made sure my insurance was up-to-date, and noted the location of the nearest hospital.
Oh, and Nate made us stop and buy baby oil on the way.
The 'course' consisited of a large inflatable kiddy pool at the bottom of a steeply-sloped lot that would be covered in visqueen plastic, and properly lubricated with water, beer, dish soap, baby oil, and God knows what else.
Setup:
The final product:
Wayner/April and Tay-um/Jenniffer showed up shortly after. Wayne was half-nude and lubed within about 10 minutes of arrival. Quite the trooper. I stood by (drinking) and monitored the situation before annointing myself with ancient oils and diving in headlong myself.
Wound up slipping and/or sliding from about 4 until 9, with varying degrees of success and homo-eroticism. Such is expected when 4-5 grown half-nude men are dousing each other with dish soap/baby oil and riding them down a greased/wet sheet of plastic, much like a sled. While singing Journey. What? No, I'm serious. It's exactly as gay as it sounds.
Had some tasty grilled meats and assorted desserts, did a beer bong, more sliding, then we cleaned up, drank more beer, and then we attempted to drunken ATV in sandals, which was a complete failure, which was magnified by the fact that the trail Diesel was intending us to take was somehow missing.
Anyway, we left there around 11 after hanging out for a bit (and drinking more). Went back to Nate's, where there was, you guessed it, more drinking and Bomberman. Chris tapped out around 1, myself around 2. Woken up at 4 by drunk Ellen. Back to bed until about 7:30.
Sunday: Woke up, slapped on deodorant, packed up and hit the road. 6.5 hours later, I arrived unscathed but tired, in Collinsville. Ate BW3, took massive nap, caught up on Tivo, watched some Miami Ink, and hit the bed hard at 9ish.
My body currently feels like...well, like I'm some sort of idiot who slip and slides drunk on a very hard surface. Current damage count is as follows:
2 bruised ribs (bottom left, top right)
1 severely bruised knee (left)
5 bruised toes (seriously, the tops of my toes on my left foot are fucked)
abs of pain (I'm assuming this is mostly from straining myself to keep Deisel's quad from flipping over on the pseudo-trail)
General muscular pain.
All in all,
AWESOME TRIP.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Yup, another lame weekend update...
Friday - Got home from work, starving, hit Steak n' Shake for the burger lovin. Haven't had that shit in a while. Grabbed me some shoes and new sandals cuz I was shoeless Joe. Hit Schnucks for boozery. Went home, played some xbox with the wife and boozed up a bit. Met the Lowns and Lori/Lance over at LJ Ducks, where drunkery ensued. Lori was plowed and left at some point, Lowns were tired and left at some other point. Ellen and I hung out with bar-friend Dane, who is a rock n' roll badass. Just a really cool guy. We'd hooked him up with our other random bar-friend, Andrea a few weeks ago, and they had a month of fun before her freaking out due to textbook screwed up girl issues, kinda sad. Shame. Anyway, 3 of us hung out and bullshitted till about 3. Oh, randomly ran into the waitress from steak n' shake at Ducks too, which went down about like this:
Me: "Hi. You're Nancy, right?"
N: "Uhm...yah..."
M: "Oh, you totally gave me a cheeseburger tonight. It rocked. I know you didn't make it, but I still appreciated you bringing it to me. It was good."
N: "Oh, um..thanks?"
M: "Yah.. this is kinda awkward now, isn't it? I'm just gonna leave. Well, good meeting you, and thanks again."
Stupid Redbull/vodka. Smoked over a half-pack. It sucked Saturday. Anyway, we were kinda let down in that there wasn't a 2:30a fight, like normal. The standard instigator drunk asshole did walk in around 2:15, which got my hopes up (he'd been in a couple of the 2:30s), but he was in a jovial mood and too plowed to fight, though still tatoo'd and appropriately scary. He wore my hat. It was funny. Anyway, gave Dane a ride home, went home ourselves, had toast/water/advil, passed out.
Saturday: Woke up at like noon. Sat around the house watching HGTV and shit pretty much all day. Went to Burger King and blockbuster at some point. Watched Hard Times, which was horrible. So bad. Hung out more. I went to bed at like 9:30 or 10:30 or something. Ellen fell asleep on the couch at midnight.
Sunday: Woke up at 8. Did shit all day. Cleaned garage up a bit, yard work, got hit hardcore in the leg with a weedeater, that hurt like shit. Played with dog, helped Ellen finish the bedroom, bought sheets and shit at Kmart, grabbed Forza 2. Went to a new meat market in Troy (Which also has a Pizza Man, with the oldschool logo, which I will be investigating VERY shortly). Grilled up some sweet-ass kabobs and drank beer. Watched Talladega Nights finally. Funny. Played Forza2 until like midnight or 1. Such an awesome game, my life is screwed.
Me: "Hi. You're Nancy, right?"
N: "Uhm...yah..."
M: "Oh, you totally gave me a cheeseburger tonight. It rocked. I know you didn't make it, but I still appreciated you bringing it to me. It was good."
N: "Oh, um..thanks?"
M: "Yah.. this is kinda awkward now, isn't it? I'm just gonna leave. Well, good meeting you, and thanks again."
Stupid Redbull/vodka. Smoked over a half-pack. It sucked Saturday. Anyway, we were kinda let down in that there wasn't a 2:30a fight, like normal. The standard instigator drunk asshole did walk in around 2:15, which got my hopes up (he'd been in a couple of the 2:30s), but he was in a jovial mood and too plowed to fight, though still tatoo'd and appropriately scary. He wore my hat. It was funny. Anyway, gave Dane a ride home, went home ourselves, had toast/water/advil, passed out.
Saturday: Woke up at like noon. Sat around the house watching HGTV and shit pretty much all day. Went to Burger King and blockbuster at some point. Watched Hard Times, which was horrible. So bad. Hung out more. I went to bed at like 9:30 or 10:30 or something. Ellen fell asleep on the couch at midnight.
Sunday: Woke up at 8. Did shit all day. Cleaned garage up a bit, yard work, got hit hardcore in the leg with a weedeater, that hurt like shit. Played with dog, helped Ellen finish the bedroom, bought sheets and shit at Kmart, grabbed Forza 2. Went to a new meat market in Troy (Which also has a Pizza Man, with the oldschool logo, which I will be investigating VERY shortly). Grilled up some sweet-ass kabobs and drank beer. Watched Talladega Nights finally. Funny. Played Forza2 until like midnight or 1. Such an awesome game, my life is screwed.
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