big storm coming. I went to the HEB and it was a fucking madhouse.
There was no bread, meat, or tortillas.
And the beer and soda supply were dwindling.
I guess we are going to get our share of the hurricane at about 5:00 AM.
People are acting like I should be a whole lot more scared...which scares me a little.
Wish us luck.
I tried to take pictures of "The Stone", but he was elusive, and camera shy,
and they all came out blurry.
My wife said they were blurry because it is too small.
Hmpf...Sorry, It was the best I could muster.
And, considering the path it took (of greatest resistance) it is a boulder.
But, I digress.
It is New Bag Day!! Super!
I think it was Win-Dog Churchill who said
"Nothing is so exhilarating as to be shot at with no result"
Well, I submit that the Winster never drove across 2 counties in Texas with a car full of weed, WITH a bad registration sticker. What a rush! What a dumb thing to do!!
I could have waited until tomorrow, when the car will actually be LEGAL, although, I was out of weed, man.
I don't like being out. I am selfish that way. Among many.
I was a highlight from one of those real life cop shows waiting to happen. I broke the cardinal rule ( You gotta be smart when you are doing stupid shit) but, my guy can't afford gas prices anymore... so when he called me to say he was ready to see me, I jumped at the chance, throwing caution to the wind. Although, it wasn't really that dramatic...I just got in the car, and drove to his house.
It was the dumbest thing I have done, since the stun-gun fiasco--(they DO really work!)
Good thing the farm roads are never patrolled.
Very rarely. Hardly ever.Very seldom.
So, first thing in the morning, I am going to have the car inspected.
And then my wife and I are actually going to leave the house...we are going to dinner at our friend's house. Other than the car stuff, it should be a nice day.
Halle-fucking-lujah!
I "passed" my kidney stone. "Passed" can mean a lot of different things. In this case, it meant a series of agonizing urinations, culminating in a painful finale.
By that same token, "Stone" also has many meanings. In this case, it is more like an arrowhead.
Or a thorny, sharpened Conch shell, with little razors all over it, carrying scissors.
Now, we are going to go backstage, and interview "The Stone":
Q: So, that was some tour, huh?
A: Yeah. Whew. I thought I had gotten lost in there, man. I was just hangin' out, getting ready to
attach myself to something, forever, ya know?
Q: It felt like you were burning something in there. What was that?
A: Oh, sorry, Bro, It was pretty dark, and I had to light my Zippo a few times, so I could see.
Q: What did you need to see?
A: Well, I carved my name a few times, and wanted to make sure it looked OK.
Q: So that is where the blood came from.
A: Yep. Well, mostly. I had a few stapling projects to do in there.
Q: Ok, well, that hurt.
A: ... (lights cigar)
Q: No, I mean it REALLY hurt.
A: You know, you are starting to sound like a little bitch (making crying noises) Wah wah wah..it hurt..it hurt. Get over it, already.
Q: I am beginning to see why you have such a bad reputation.
A: Hey, that's just how I roll, son.
Q: Can we expect any future tours?
A: Well, not from me. I am out of the business. But I do have a few brothers, and some cousins who might step up, at some point.
Q: Why do you do it? I mean, what is the purpose?
A: Haters gotta hate, lovers gotta love, you know what I'm sayin'?
Q: No.
A: Whatever. Fuck you, man.
Q: You are quite hostile
A: Aw, man, this interview is over. No more questions.
And, with that, he ran across the street, turned around and gave me the finger, and then was gone.
Good news from the urinary tract!!
My pee looks like pee again!
I am aware that this probably isn't "blog-worthy" for most (normal) people.
But, after a day of pissing blood, this is not only blog-worthy, but it is cause for celebration.
I should point out that all 3 of the meds that I was prescribed cause dizziness, or drowsiness,
so I am not really "of sound mind".
In fact, I am feeling pretty out of it.
What was I just talking about?
I woke up this AM with a pain in my side, it felt like a cramp.
After I had been awake for about 20 minutes, it was hurting more, and more.
Then, the pain sort of spiked, and I puked (it was awesome---just like at the ' Maiden show, bro!)
And THEN, I peed...and it looked like red wine, which would be OK, if I was our Lord and Savior, which I am not (or AM I?)
So, yeah, bloody pee, pain in my side, I must be dying.
We went to the hospital (it was FUN) and we were the only people in the Emergency Room (the "ER")
in spite of all the cars in the "PL" .
I hadn't even finished filling in the paperwork, and they were calling me into the Triage Unit. (the TU)
I had blood drawn, and then was given a shot of some painkiller, and an anti-nausea agent.
They did a CT Scan, and was told I have a kidney stone (jealous?)
Anyhow, I am about to go fetch my prescriptions, (vicodin, reglan {anti-nausea drug}, and fucking Flomax!!--the prostate shrinker upper--it supposedly helps with stones)
All in all, I would give the day 2 middle fingers, way up!!
Actually though, for a hospital, it was not bad. I was in and out in less than 2 hours,
and didn't see anyone else's bodily fluids.
So, I am about to experience the miracle of childbirth, sort of.
This is totally going to suck.
Well, thank the World's one God that the Olympic Games are over.
That was the best Olympic Games in 4 years. It will probably be at least another 4 years before
any new Olympic athletes captivate America with their smiles, and stories.
How heartwarming they all are!
It is the same shit....every time.
"Athlete 'A' was just an alternate...he hadn't made the team,
but someone broke a coccyx, and he got his chance...blah blah blah"
Or even worse: " This guy has come to the Olympics to break every record, blah blah blah"
And until then, Michael "Phuckin'" Phelps' goofball mug is going to be selling everything.
He is a swimmer, man.
A swimmer.
I could understand if Swimming was a more popular spectator sport in America...
Shit, even Bowling used to be on prime time television. NASCAR is huge...
Swimming?
It seems to me as though the Olympics is the only forum (Baywatch re-runs notwithstanding) that swimmers have anymore.
And, OK, admittedly, to show up, claiming to be the Man,
and then proving that you ARE the Man, is cool... and maybe I will buy Gatorade Ocean Flavored Sweatdrink, or Powerbars, with added beefy Protein-surge technology because the Phelps told me to.
I might even get my auto parts at Pepboys, at the Phelps' behest, instead of Autozone, who was only willing to pay a sub-par swimmer to be their spokesman.
But, personally, as a guy (who is very comfy with his raging heterosexuality) I would have rather painted my balls, and swum (swimmed? swam? swammed?) naked before I wore that girly suit.
I'm just sayin'
So,
I had a birthday a few days ago. It was nice.
38.
I am now officially too old to be signed to a long-term sports contract.
I would maybe get a 3 year deal, max.
I could really rant here about our new goddamn medical insurance billing issues,
but I don't want to open that can of horrid beans again.
Yes, I do.
We signed up with a new insurance plan, on June 28th. We paid them (well, they took their money) on July 7th. Then, they took more money on July 30th.
And then they took more money today.
So, I call them, to find out WTF... Why have I paid $935.83 for something that is supposed to cost $311 a month, and I only signed up a month and a half ago...
and get it all broken down for me, as I am an imbecile, evidently.
The money that they took today, covers us until September 19. (OK)
The money that they took on the 30th of July was to cover July 18 until August 18 (OK, yes,)
The money that they took on July 7th, covered us between June 18, and July 18 (No---wait)
I said "Why do I have to pay for that time, I wasn't a member yet--I don't think that is right"
So, then, the tables turned, as I tried to 'splain to her that I signed up on the 28th of June, and surely shouldn't have to pay for the period before I was insured...and how can they charge people for retroactive health-care??
I could FEEL her blank stare through the phone.
In fact, I wrote a haiku about it:
Stupid fucking bitch
Hoping I will stop yelling
Not saying a word
Or this one:
I felt cheated and
Continue to feel cheated
By Assurant Health
I was SO inspired, that I even wrote a limerick:
There once was a man from Nantucket
My fucking medical insurance company sucks
I yelled on the phone, and didn't feel better
I am not good at writing limericks.
Yes, I know that wasn't very good, but, limericks aren't really very good to begin with.
So,
I got all that nightmarish dental work done. It sucked.
It actually wasn't all that much work, a root canal, and 2 extractions... but it was enough.
We have been busy...billing motherf- erm... clients like mad.
It is too hot to do anything else.
"Outside" is a word that gets you a funny look here, this time of year. As in : "you want me to go outside?"
Blah blah blah Brett Favre ...
Welly...
After all kinds of hurricane hype, all we got here was a few nice rain showers.
So, with the rain, of course came a sweltering humidity ( you know, it's not the heat, it's the stupidity er humidity)
so it actually feels hotter, in spite of our temp being only 82 ( that HAS to be wrong---it feels WAY hotter)
and it smells real "gulfy"... hot n gulfy.
I went to my HEB (that is the grocery store chain down here) today, and (thought) I heard some distant cheering, every few minutes, which I chalked up to a new tinnitis, and kept on shoppin'
but as I got closer, and closer to the checkout area , the festival sounds kept on getting louder, and clearer.
Cheering, combined with occasional airgun spurts....
I saw a HEB employee, and said "wtf?"
and she said "omg they R havin6 a cont3st to C who is the fast3st bagger -n- stuff" in Teenese, rolling her eyes at the distasteful interaction with me.
When I got to the checkout line, there were about 50-100 people (no joke) watching, and taking pictures...
and there was Spike, the mascot for the Round Rock Express --our local semi-pro baseball team (he is a dawg, dressed in train {engineer's} clothes... he was there too...what a thrill.
This picture is Spike at the opening of our library. Although it is quite appropriate for this post.
It might have been the lamest human gathering in history...and they were ALL into it...cheering,
one "contestant" was DRIPPING sweat, from running around and shit.
I went through the self check out line, and bagged my own shit to avoid all the nonsense ---and after I got home, realized that I had stolen my bananas (i am not to be trusted)
I am totally not into working today. Not one bit. At all.
Today can't end soon enough.
Tomorrow I get those teef pulled at Noon, Texas time. This town ain't big enough for the 3 of us.
I am getting knocked out, because I am a wuss...but it isn't the pain I am afraid of, I have been through the pain part...it is the sound I am afraid of.
I would never be able to stop hearing it, so, no.
I want to be able to eat crunchy stuff without remembering and reliving blah blah blah...
The visit with the In-laws was actually quite nice. Mother-in-law was charming & polite, and her husband is always OK. He is only about a year and a half older than me, so, we get along just fine. For those keeping score, I am 37, (38 next month) R. is 30, her mom is 53, and her mom's husband is 39.
My dear wife turned 30 on July 11 (just a puppy)...that is why the In-laws were here...we shopped and ate.
In-laws went crazy buying everything that we saw. And we saw a lot. They spent well over $4,000 on us. It was really awkward. But really nice.
So, yeah, getting teeth pulled. Shit. The next few days with that bloody cotton taste in my mouth, milkshakes, pudding, all full of painkillers...deja vu.
One thing is kind of funny (to me) on my surgery instructions list, it actually tells me to wear "loose fitting clothes"...What my pants have to do with my teeth, I will never know, but I am thinking that some web-site is about to get a taste of Peter (I am the one with tattoos, and the big beard...watch for me!)
This is a boring post...here...go read something funny. Clicky
Well...
One of the teeth I am having removed in a few days has organized a rebellion. I woke up a last week, with that unmistakable (if you have ever experienced it before) "Oh, shit, my tooth is infected" feeling. For the uninitiated, it feels like a balloon, slowly filling up in your face, combined with agony, and new, and improved pain.
So, I phoned my dentist, and told him what was up, and I asked him to call in a prescription for antibiotics...but when I went and picked up my pills, he had called in a prescription for painkillers.
The next morning I phoned him again, to ask for antibiotics, maybe, this time....only to be told that he had gone on vacation.
So, being the enterprising youngish man, I phoned my other dental buddy, the guy who is going to be pulling the teeth, and 'splained to him what was up.
He called in antibiotics, and that is that...right?
Well, no, not exactly.
5 days later, I am still all swollen, out of pain meds, not very happy.
I phone Oral Surgeon guy again, and tell them I am concerned...they tell me that because they knew I was uninsured, that they had called in the (bullshit, ineffective "poor people meds") cheapest antibiotics.
I said " Hey, Baby, the sky's the limit" so he called in some "rich people" antibiotics, and some more painkillers.
I am now on a first name basis with the pharmacist. No joke. I walked up to the counter,
and she said "Hi, Peter, still all swollen?"
I turned my head a little, and she saw, and said "Yes you are."
So, that is what is going on here...a pharmaceutical haze... mixed with moments of PAIN.
Did I mention that my In-laws are coming to visit? In 2 days?
The last time I saw my Mother-in-law, it was not good.
Really not good.
It was really bad.
If I wasn't so doped up, and out of it, I would be really nervous about it.
And, yes, the Eagle has landed.
Doctor came by at about 5, i can't believe it is already 12:30.
Time flies when you are super-stoned--or maybe it crawls, and you just don't care.
Anyhoo... the new stuff is very nice, fluffy, buddy. It smokes nice and smooth.
I am quite pleased.
Amazing how having a copious amounts can improve a fellow's demeanor.
So I smoked a bunch, and played poker, and "talked" to my buddy in NY on myspace.
All in all, a great night.
Now, I am going to get in bed with my wife, and fall asleep to Sportscenter.
Hope you have a night as nice as this one was for me soon.
Today started out like a typical day at the end of the month...with us frantically billing as much as we can, so that we can continue our lavish lifestyle (we are having hot dogs tonight...tres posh)
But then, as I was basking in the afterglow of lunch, my "doctor" called me, and said he would be out this way today. So, that means it is New Bag Day. Or it will be.
That means that I have to go over to the "shady" store, to get some papers (the last time I was there, some Vato was arguing with the guy behind the counter, saying that when he cashed his check, he had shorted him $100. It got ugly quick (front door was shattered, cops were on the way) and so I was happy to get the fuck out of there, and wish I didn't have to go back, but I am partial to "Zig-Zag King Sized" papers, and they are the only game in town, that I know of.
So, this evening should be an orgy of giant spliffs.
I love that!
So, for the last 2 or 3 days, I have had an occasional pain in my side, in the appendix area.
I was doing what I always do when my body hurts, I ignore it, and hope it goes away, or fixes itself.
I do know that I am not mature enough to handle appendectomy, or appendicitis, particularly my OWN.
Well, today I mentioned it to R. just to let her know...in case she finds me screaming, curled up in fetal position...
I don't really think it is anything serious, probably.
And (here is the weird part) then I get an e-mail from my sister, who lives about 1500 miles away, and she says:
I keep getting this weird, sharp pain in my lower gut, on the right. I hope that’s not where one’s appendix is. Maybe I ate a metallic peanut.
Fucking weird.
I figure that between Tim Russert, and George Carlin, America's collective IQ just dropped a bunch.
Drag
This is an excerpt of an e-mail, and the response, that cracked me up:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
...good to get out of the house,
and talk to someone who is not a cashier.
I have several cashier buddies in town. One is this kid (prolly 23 years old or so)
who has sold me rolling papers, and scoped my tattoos a bazillion times.
I can tell he wants to be 'bros"...he has that ratty ponytail, and bad mustache of a Metallica fan. He only ever nods at me...never says a word...just tilts his head.
" sup, bro," he is saying.
His e-mail is prolly metaldude4life@dickweed.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And the response:
I have some cashier buds, too; the ones who like me tend to be the prim, proper-looking women, who give me an almost vigorous nod of approval, sort of a “You look clean…and as though you have no secret tattoos” kind of thing. Their emails are probably things like Judy61@aol.com I give them the fake plastic smile of the suburbanite, thinking, “Man, if you knew what a pothead I am"… as I bask in the faux glow of their beige approval. ... I try to go against peoples’ expectations of my bland exterior.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In an excellent mood...
first of all, it is friday, and that means no fuckin' clients for 2 days.
Also,I found my oldest, and best friend from the first time I lived in Texas on myspace, and he lives right in Austin, with his wife, and 2 kids (I met the oldest when he was a newborn--he is now 15, so it has been a while)
We lost contact with eachother when I moved from Phoenix, to Florida, to Buffalo in one year.
We talked for a long time last night on the phone. He also doesn't drink anymore, but still smokes lots of dope (he was trying to tempt me to drive to his house with some "mean skunky bud"--but I didn't feel like driving) They are going camping this weekend, so when he gets back, we are going to get together, smoke a ton of weed, and tell lies.
His band is playing in a few weeks, (garagey-sludgey-sort of punk---or something) and R. and I will be going.
So, yeah, that is nice.
My asshole neighbor left this morning, and left his dog outside, with no water. The dish wasn't even outside. So I gave her water, and a leftover Arby's beef and cheddar (and then later a dog biscuit, and some chicken) I know that she would be fine if I didn't give her food. I just like to, she likes it ,too. But, this is June in Texas, man. Shit needs water.
We are SO taking her with us when we move. I don't even give a fuck anymore. I will knock on the door, and beat his ass to take her if I have to. I am not letting this asshole kill that dog.
I am going to smoke.
Have a nice weekend.
OK,
I have a dentist appointment on Monday...a root canal that I had a few years ago basically came out. It didn't break, it was just suddenly NOT attached.
So, that sucks, but I do need to see what other teefs need to come out...which REALLY sucks.
We are still in house-limbo...waiting for the bank to release the house from foreclosure, so we can buy it.
Just a whole lot of waiting, therefore, a WHOLE lot of smoking.
Sorry, and you came all this way.
Here, go waste some time here...
once you get past the bad handwriting, it is pretty damn funny
Well, it seems that the house that we want to buy might be in foreclosure.
Evidently, the owner thought he could get it sold quickly enough that he didn't have to make any more payments on it.
Jackass.
So, as of 5:00 PM, we are withdrawing our offer. We will probably turn right around, and make another offer, for about 5 or 10K less.
We made the offer last fucking week. He only got back to us today because we told him that we were pulling our offer at 5:00.
We had decided that we were not going to be "on hold" any longer...and today, well...we ARE going to be on hold, way longer. So, yet ANOTHER week will end with us having no idea when, or even IF we will be getting that house.
My "little experiment" in the backyard has (already) started budding. I didn't think it would even last THIS long, much less mature & produce, but starting to bud in first week of June??
God, I love Texas.
Except for the dodgy real estate agents.
So...check THIS shit out...
We have been trying to wean clients away from paying with PayPal, due to their crazy fees, and shit service. So we go with Quickbooks, and are pleased to announce to our clients that we are now able to process credit cards. We invoice last month...no problem.
This month comes around...we invoice...start receiving payments...no problem.
But just now ,we get a call telling us we must refund one of our clients, because his invoice came to $1800, and we are only "eligible" to receive payments of UP to $1500. She says "if there is a chargeback, or returned good, we have to be able to cover it, and that is the limit they have set on us, based on R's credit rating"...
What the motherFUCK??!!!
So...by making more than $1500 "at once", you are ineligible to get paid, unless you are making (lots) more.
In other (FUCKING IDIOTIC) words...we do not make enough to make more.
And they have access to our records...they can SEE he is one of several, so they can SEE that we make more than enough to cover any chargebacks.
This is yet another time where I feel like "the man" is holdin' a brotha' down.
It is a good thing the eagle has landed.
I see a J the size of a baby's arm in my future...
< / -angry rant- >
We have come up with a possible offer on the house...
But we are also waiting for mortgage approval
Now we play the waiting game...which I am playing with my "doctor" as well...
We are not very good at waiting for shit...especially important shit, like housing, and weed.
Really don't have anything else going on...just a whole lot of waiting...
Sorry you came all the way here, and I can't really play, or be a very good "host" today.
We were just having a smoke break in the garage...
we got to talking about fertility, and having a kid, and Ros said
"I am sure that your guys are going to be very distracted, we might need in vitro"
I said " What makes you think that?"
she said "because you are a stoner" (but with her accent, it sounds like "stonah")
I haven't been called a stoner in 20 years, maybe more.
That was super funny to me (because I was/am stoned)
Today is crawling...no ...oozing along.
I have decided that because Camel has changed (ever so slightly, but I can tell) Camel Wides, that I am now officially a man without a brand.
I am going to go back to rolling my own. It is more cost effective, and (hopefully) it won't change it's recipe/formula.
Camel Wides in the new pack SUCK. They are not as wide as they used to be, they burn WAY faster than they used to, and they taste like a cheap cigarette...like a fucking Doral or a GPC.
I should just quit altogether, but...
Friday, at fucking last.
I have been playing poker at absolute again...despite my animosity towards the site, and it's lousy players. I went back to absolute because pokerroom has placed all US players onto one server,
and all Euro, aussie, and all "others" on another server.
So, suddenly playing poker there is like being a substitute teacher, in a class of really dumb, badly behaved kids. I can't stand the misspellings, and abbreviations, and general malaise towards anything learned...by a bunch a idiots, who think they are clever.
So I went back to Absolute, and on my first night back, I played in a freeroll, and came in 47th out of 5000...good for .43 cents.
Since then, I have won several tournaments, and have built money up to $11... Low rolling all the way!
I am going to go do some smoking, and see if that doesn't "help" my work ethic.
Enjoy your day/weekend.
So, I started a myspace page because it was the only way I could track down my cousin.
Suddenly I have old friends popping into life, some I have not spoken with in 15 years.
Very weird. Suddenly people are aware that we have moved out of Buffalo, and live in Texas. I only told a few people I was leaving.
Funny, too, those same people make it seem like we would be hanging around together, now, but for the Texas thing.
We are waiting to hear from the mortgage lender. That is a certain way to make time stand still.
Oh, yeah...it is fucking hot today for the first time this year.
It is 94F now (36 C) and going to go UP to 99F (37. fuckin' 2 cel.)
To quote my wife, it is "poes hot". If you speak Afrikaans, or Dutch, you know what that means, and how it is pronounced.
If you don't, guess.
I am sure you won't be far off.
I have been listening to the new Opeth. It is spiffy.
OK, so, we got a letter from USCIS telling us to go to San Antonio to take the next step in R.'s
immigration proceedings (she is a conditional permanent resident and we want to have the "conditional" removed) so we take EVERYTHING that has both of our names on it just to be sure...
All they did was take her fingerprints (again!) and MORE photos. And that was it.
We drove all that nutty way, for 10 minutes...all armed, and didn't even get to fight. Didn't even have to raise our voices. It was actually nice.
And tomorrow we are going back to Palacios to look at a few houses, and sit on the beach for a bit.
2 nights ago we had a storm here that had the drainage yard next to us full to the point that water flooded our backyard, and was touching the house.
And, the aquaduct thingy that lets the water into drainage yard from the neighborhood is right next to my driveway, so the WHOLE neighborhood is nice, and clean, except for our house, which has a nice pile of sand and sediment and shit right in front of it. It's like I am building a delta.
We also found out that the dog next door is NOT named Leon, but Kona.
She will always be Leon to me though.
So, it has been more than a month since I posted anything.
That is so typical of me. When I started this blog, I was all "I'm gonna post every day, at least one dumb thing, I am not going to let it lapse" et c.
And then like 2 months into it, I see something shiny, and lose focus.
So, I was right about the In Flames show. They were the best act at the show (bearing in mind that we did not stay for Megadeth, and I suppose that there is some small, teeny, tiny chance that they put on a better show, but I also would assume that they played a whole lot of "Megadeth", and therefore sucked, IMHO) but Job for a Cowboy was nifty, too, only the vocals were WAY too loud, and were making my one ear (I am pretty much deaf in the other) feel like it had an epiglottis attached to it, all shaky, and loose, like my ear was gargling...probably not good for ears at all.
Here is a fun fact about Houston:
It is a really smelly city.
As soon as we pulled off of I-10, an odor like anything old and swampy made us both wince, and glare at one another, accusingly. Our hotel lobby smelled like the ghost of a million cigars, farts, onions, and mustardy pickles. The elevator was even worse. It smelled like an eggy bird-cage.
And then the venue itself...smelled like a swampy,gassy bog.
We seemed to be the only people there who were aware of it. Nobody else seemed disturbed, or distressed, despite the obvious olfactory biological warfare. I guess it is the oil refineries that make it stink, but it was like going to someone's house, who has a really smelly cat, that they can no longer smell, and after a little while, you can't either. Except I could still smell it. Hell, I could almost taste it.
We took a drive to this little town called Palacios (which is pronounced puh-lashes) that I had found a few houses in, that we wanted to take a look ("Have us a look-see", in local jargon) at and just kind of poke around town, and see if it is some where we might want to live.
It is.
So, unless we win the HGTV dream house sweepstakes, we will be moving to Palacios.
Now, of course, I HAVE already put a lot of my eggs in the "sweepstakes basket"...but I am truly mentally, and emotionally primed to win something. Now would be a perfect time to win, logistics-wise.
It is all a part of my (new) 5 year plan, that is based largely on winning shit.
Less than 2 weeks until we go to Houston for the In Flames---Job for a Cowboy--Children of Bodom show.
There is another band (High On Fire) who is pretty cool...kind of sounds like Motorhead's little brother.
And "Megadeth" who is headlining(whatever), but I predict In Flames is going to steal the show.
I won't know, because I am not sticking around to watch Mustaine make a bigger dick out of himself. I just don't get his version of music. Plus, I had a minor little run in with him when I lived in Phoenix. He is an asshole. If I could have bought my ticket without Megadeth getting a dime I would have.
To me, Megadeth is about as heavy as "Staind" which is to say about as heavy as R.E.M.
Which is fine..but then don't try to sell yourself as some "heavy" band.
And I really don't like how he tries to make himself seem more important in the formative years of "metal". Megadeth wasn't even on the radar for most of us.
If he hadn't been briefly affiliated with Metallica, I would have never heard of him.
I bought their first record, which sucked, because it said on the cover "former member of Metallica" which was the norm back then ( I first bought Possessed " 7 Churches" because the sticker on the cover said "If you like Slayer, check these guys out')
Actually, Megadeth reminds me of Rush. Whiny, weinery vocals over music that really wouldn't be SO bad as an instrumental.
I am really looking forward to Job for a Cowboy though, and R. is seriously looking forward to In Flames. They were supposed to play in South Africa 2ce, but backed out (they didn't want to take anti-malaria pills, or something) so she has never seen them, and they are her favorite band...or one of her favorites.
And, neither one of us has been to a show, period, since the Opeth show we saw in Edmonton in 2005.
Buffalo went for about 15 months without a single national touring act playing that I gave a damn about, except for when Napalm Death played...but I was out of town that week.
Meshuggah and Ministry (odd pairing) are playing a show in Austin 2 or 3 days before the Houston show.
It will be worth the price of admission just to see/ hear Haake play "Bleed". I still can't get over that beat...and neither can every amateur drummer on youtube...there is some unofficial contest between crappy drummers trying to play "bleed"... been a long time since there was a song that had every drummer who is into the genre was dying to master...maybe since "Reign in Blood".
I am going to try to work...why don't you go outside, and play for awhile?
Alrighty then...
This is my Wife's "You reek of weed" face:
And THIS is Leon...super cute and lonely sitting on her back step. Makes me want to do something nice for her:
This is the chicken I am going to sneakily give her:
I have her undivided attention...
So, I very quietly toss the chicken to her...trying to NOT let her parents know that I am feeding their doglet.
and the other piece...
And a hearty "thanks for that chicken":
Oh, Leon, you deserve so much more. And we deserve you.
Here is a fun fact...
If you smoke a bunch of joints, and then take the roaches, and roll them up, you have a "2nd generation" joint.
If you smoke a few of them, and roll up the roaches, you have a "3rd generation" joint.
Now, that is where I was in the game...I had 4 big, fat "3rd generation" joints, and tried to do a "4th generation"...it didn't work. I have been storing the roaches in a pill bottle to let them dry out a little bit, but after about the third toke, it was way too soggy to smoke. Not to mention the gross, little, brown resin stamp that the end became.
And then there was the stench...I reeked.
So I had to just start over, and roll a giant spliff.
I took some pictures of R. frowning, and breathing through her shirt.
It is her " You reek of weed" look.
I will post them tomorrow morning, as I am too tired to stay up.
So, it is kind of like the old "you can't fold a piece of paper in half 8 times" trick for potheads.
I am committed to this type of "research".
Knowledge make the world a better place. Especially at my house.
So, I didn't get the tooth pulled after all.
The oral surgeon said that if I have more teeth that need to be pulled, it makes better sense to do them all at once, rather than pay for the anesthesia twice.
Which does make perfect sense to me, too...but...
That means I have to go BACK to the first dentist...and THEN make another appointment with the oral surgeon.
This was after I had wussed out from letting him yank it with just novocaine.
I told him it is not so much the pain, as that tooth has hurt forever..it is the "being aware of what he is doing" factor.
Then I asked him "What would you do if you were me--bearing in mind that i have NO insurance, and a very limited supply o' cash"
That was CLEARLY a situation he was NOT comfy in...I could see it on his face...him, thinking "Me? Poor? um--No. "
But, he then came up with the plan of going back to the first dentist, and seeing what else needs to come out, and then doing it all at once.
Which did also let me save face a little...I almost felt like If I left , and wasn't bleeding, that the Aryan Vanguard of receptionists (they are SERIOUSLY all blond haired, 5'10", severe faced women in their 50's, and there were about 7 of them) would be let down.
So, now I get to look like a dick to the first dentist, because I originally saw him over a month ago, and he told me to get the tooth pulled, AND THEN come back.
The funny thing is...the tooth feels fine now, no pain. It is like it is making it's toothy case to stay.
It is telling me " C'mon man...lemmy stay here...I'll protect this portion of your gums, don't let him take me out man...please man, I won't hurt you no more"
If it was a bicuspid, I might listen..but you can NEVER trust a molar.
Today is the day...
I am getting that bad toof pulled in about 2 hours. I am shitting myself.
I know-I know, it is not that big of a deal...but either is getting on an airplane to most people, and I can barely do that. I also know that this is (mostly) unfounded fear, and it is totally deconstructive. However, my brain doesn't seem to be cooperating.
I went to the grocery store, and bought lots of "soft" foods....(ie: pudding, yogurt, ice cream, pablum) so I guess I am at least prepared...just not ready.
I am still not even sure if this guy is planning to knock me out. I am pretty sure I need him to. I feel like this tooth has already caused me more than enough pain, and I don't think I need to hear it...much less feel how hard he has to pull...Jesus.
I am really not helping myself.
I am going to go chain smoke until it is time to be a big boy.
I can only hope that they appreciate me wearing loose, easy to remove shorts, and not pesky jeans, just in case he is that kind of dentist.
Today we went to the post office.
But we had 123 large envelopes to send...so we get to the post office, unload the 6 boxes, pay for postage, and we are sorted...right?
Wrong.
It stared off promisingly, we took in just one box each, and the clerk waved us up, and said to go get the rest. So I did, as the line grew , and grew. And then...
We were sold stamps...they didn't even have enough, so SURELY that is not the usual policy. So, stamps...the postage was $2.13...so we bought 153 $1 stamps, 16 $2 stamps (which tasted really old) 123 ten cent stamps, and 123 three centers. If you are "mathy" you would see that we only had enough for 92. And that was all the stamps they had. I am not even going to mention how much time it took for the woman behind the counter to count, and recount all of the stamps.
And then...
So now we had our total..no sweat..R. had made certain to "load" $400 onto one of the business cards, so we are set, right?
Wrong again. That card "could not be read". So now, we are surely the most popular people in the post office, and to top it off, now I have to go to car AGAIN and get my wallet, to pay with a different, personal card. I don't even use it for myself, and I am paying for some dick's postage??
$205.45 to be exact...
By now a really long line had formed behind us, of course. Whatever. Fuck 'em.
Now, we certainly were NOT about to take them home again...so we set up shop on one of the counters in the post office, and started a'stampin'. and a'stampin'.
That is when I realized that at one of the other kiosk counter things, some guy and his 2 kids were eating lunch. And not a simple lunch...It was fried chicken, cole slaw, and those crappy little mini cobs of corn. So, you see, it was an involved lunch, with plates, and forks , and shit. All the trimmings.
Now when I was a kid, and on weekends visited my Father, we went to some pretty lame spots, and did some pretty boring shit,but we never mistook a post office for a public park.
And that got me thinking, as much as I thought this particular post office trip sucked,(which it truly did) it sucked even more for at least one o' them little boys. I thought briefly about kicking his ass, (using the "what the fuck is wrong with you?" opening gambit) but that REALLY would have fucked up the kid's-alread -fucked-up -lunch.
Who eats in a post office?? Ishould also mention, this post office is in the middle of nowhere, and nowhere near any restaurants, or fried chicken vendors (if there is still such a thing)
All in all, it was just as bad as we thought it would be. Maybe worse.
I am so happy it is Friday.
Well, I Crowed a pretty mean Kay, but I still lost 2 outta 3...or was it 3 outta 3?
I don't want to say my Mom cheated in croquet, but she did.
She made me use the crappy yellow ball...and I think my mallet was cracked.
And I wasn't wearing croquet shoes...and the sun was in my eyes a little.
My shirt was too tight in the shoulders, and my shorts were too loose. I had JUST washed my hair, so it was unruly, and in my way. I was too worried about the reducing the carbon footprint we had created setting up the wire thingies.
I was a feeling sick...um...I can't think of any other excus---er reasons right now...
Oh yeah...she had the home field advantage. I had driven all that way, and was very tired.
I am thinking about asking for a performance enhancing drug test.
We are going in today for Easter dinner...and maybe a rematch.
Only thing standing between me and a sure victory... I have a mosquito bite on my knee...
Well, after getting lost 3 times (thanks Mapquest....RIGHT turn on FM1825...Not LEFT!!!!)
we found the tax place, and filed...
and somehow got a refund.
I was expecting to pay about $1300...but no..Uncle Sam (and Cousin New York) said this one's on me...my money is no good here...In fact, have some of ours.
Hallefuckinglujah.
We watched "300" last night. It was Hilarious, though I don't reckon it was supposed to be.
Preparing for trip into Austin (the "Big City" to me now) which means getting clean...putting on clothes more significant than pajamas...rolling joints...all kind of a task today.
It is a bee-yoot-iful Texas Spring day. Not too hot, No IRS debt, just a lazy-feeling Saturday.
And that will soon be ruined, by the high pressure (low stakes) race that is Austin area highways.
Not to mention how narrow Austin's streets seem to me now.
Small town life has changed me.
And we are going to Houston soon, which makes Austin look like a village.
My Mom has bought a croquet set, and is wanting to Cro. She asked me if I had ever played before ( Yes, if whacking a ball around with a mallet=croquet. No, if attention was paid to rules, technique, decorum, those little wire thingies, et c). So I guess I have a Croquet game (match?) to play.
and I play to win.
Cutthroat Croquet.
It is most assuredly "ON".
And if you are thinking "does it make you feel like a big man to (maybe) beat your Mom at croquet?"
The answer is "Oui".
We are going to file our taxes today.
We just received a package (via courier...I have NEVER had a courier deliver anything..I thought that was a foregone occupation, like cobblering) from the lady who is doing our books (I could say "our accountant", but that just seems too fucking weird) and we are well armed with a tidy stack of paperwork.
In theory, we should be fine, and owe an affordable amount. Right?
RIGHT??
I don't know why I feel so panicky about this...it can't be THAT much.
It would be better if after you filed, there was a superfun waterslide that we could play on.
I have a figure in my mind of how much I think we owe.
Hope that Uncle Sam sees my vision.
Being a "grown up" sucks.
Fought an intense battle last night...
A Man Vs. Beard fight for survival. At first, it looked like the Beard might prevail, but in the end, ingenuity, and good ol' stick-to-itiveness paid off.
There were some laughs, tears, and a shitload of stray hairs in the sink. For a few minutes I looked like an extra in a barfight scene on "B.J. and the Bear", all muttonchopsy, with the big '70's pornstache. Like my name should be Ken "the Kenster" Weber.
However, in the end, the Beard was no match for the Remington Clip Deluxe800.
It was banished, to the outskirts of Sideburnsia
Instead of looking younger, I look diminished. My face looks so small to me now.
Like the joke about the guy walking on the beach, who finds the Genie lamp...
Have a big, ugly mailing project to do. Need to print 300 letters, (2 letters...a 1 pager and a 4 pager) and put them in a puffy envelope with a book. Ugly.
Let me just shill for Office Max...we ordered last night...they delivered it to us this morning, by 11 AM. We are converts. We used to be with Office Depot, but now, we are dating Office Max.
Good thing is, because they have the same first name, we will never blurt out the wrong name in our moments of passion.
I know, I know...I am a dork.
Woke up early today, and very depressed for some reason.
Not even able to put a finger on it, just feel "Blah".
Shit, I haven't even done anything to earn depression. I must have dreamed about some past anxious moment, because as I smoking, and having my bath, all I could think about was how lucky I am. My family is largely intact, mostly healthy. My wife rocks. The only thing I could complain about (well...) is that I am getting older, faster. Fatter. Slower.
So, that settles it, it was a bad dream(that's my story, and I am sticking to it)
I think Wednesday was training, anticipating our clash. It sure seems confident.
"Uncle"
I was right.
Yesterday did in fact, suck. Today too.
It rained HARD today. Hard enough that we went into the neighbors yard, and led their dog (a really pretty, skinny Black Lab) into our garage. She was soaked, and miserable. We already loved her through the fence, but now, we were free to consummate our love, sort of.
She stayed with us until about 5, then I took her back home, and removed the note we had left for her owner. So she (her name seems to be "Leon"-or at least her tag was named Leon. Somebody in this story is named fucking Leon! oops) had a nice little adventure that her parents don't know about.
And now, like the rain she is gone.
All we have left is a really stinky garage. Wet, dirty dog, and ashtray.
Love always leaves a smell, or a stain. Sometimes both.
Actually, hanging out with her, and feeling like she really appreciated us was (of course) nice.
It was all the OTHER stuff that sucked...the work...ok,--- just the work part of the day sucked. The Leon part was nice, although I am sure our cat would beg to differ.
Tomorrow had better look out. I am coming to kick it's lousy Wednesday ass.
Imagine it is the bottom of the ninth, you have 2 strikes, the ball is on the 42 yard line, you need a strike to win, ( a spare just gives you a tie) you have 5 personal fouls, 2 men in the penalty box, you are up against the ropes, the clock ticking down, you are in the rough, and out of gas.
That is how I feel right now.
The weekend is well over. I am now officially up too late.
I am calling the dentist tomorrow. No, seriously, I am.
I need to get this tooth pulled, and then set up appointments for all my other torture-er dental work.
Man, tomorrow already sucks.
Tethered...
The batteries died in my cordless keyboard, so I had to plug in my clunky old plug-in.
This keyboard sucks, it has some crazy carpal-tunnel-reverse angle to it, so you feel as though you were typing uphill, even with the little lifty tabs closed. I guess I am a flatlander.
It is in the 90's today. It feels great.
We finally broke down and had to put the AC on, we were both too sluggish to work without it.
Tired today...out of sorts. Must be all this sunshine.
I drove past 900 stores today, and forgot to get butter.
We were going to have fresh corn, but I can't (won't) eat it butter-free.
I am too lazy to type anymore today.
Go do something else.
Finished another huge project today...Salesdick e-mail sorting...
yes...I felt dirty doing it...but
I have already billed almost 30 hours this month , which means
math ... let's see, um carry the one and ....over 5 Billion Dollars!!!!! Jeepers.
I have been feeling fairly Blah! lately. Not sure why.
Just kind of a generic "who gives a fuck" feeling...that not so fresh feeling.
I am not even sure what I am malcontent about, but it is making everything sucky.
When I lived in Bflo. I always called these shitty periods my "At Risk" times, and blamed them on Bflo, and her lovely climate, and people. I mean, it HAS been cloudy and shitty for a few weeks here, but...
This is my first one since i left Bflo.I thought I had left this shit there. Maybe I am infected!
Oh well... the garage will help.
This morning almost really sucked...
I opened the document I had already worked on for hours (remember, 15 minutes is an eternity, online) only to find it was not saved.
This puzzled(infuriated) me, because I must have saved it 30 times...then I (well, R.) realized that had been working on the attached file she had sent, NOT a savable file.
Boy, is my face red.
Thank the world's one God for temp/file folders...and those clever guys who anticipated boneheads like me.
I bought some "Everlasting Gobstoppers" yesterday. Been 25 years since I had seen them last.
They are almost like health food...I read the ingredients, and they don't even have sugar in them.
Just Dextrose, corn syrup, maltodextrin, various acids, stearates , and carnauba wax( mmmm!)
and then Blue1, blue2 lake , red40 lake (my favorite) yellow5, yellow5lake, and yellow6.
all of that, with No Fat!
How does Willy Wonka do it...
With the second shot, she died.
So...it turns out that this was our Cotton anniversary, not Sponge.
I think next year it is Cork, followed by Banana Peel.
We went on a little shopping spree...I got a new bathrobe, and slippers, and shorts, and T-shirts.
R. got a nightgowny thing, some shirts, sandals, and my new bathrobe.
I REALLY wanted these sneakers with flames on them...but they were only in kids sizes.
Story of my life...
Happy Anniversary to Us...
Not nearly as hot as it was in Durban the day we got married..not nearly hot actually. It is 46F...and in Durban the day we were married it was almost 46 celsius.
I love this time of day, especially on the days that we are closed...this is the time of day when optimism reigns ( maybe I will find that elusive bag of money I have been dreaming about)
I am going to wake my wife up now... and try and give her a nice day...no tantrums, no rants.
OK...rants..but no tantrums.
I love you R... I hope you get to spend today with someone that YOU love, too.
Thanks for marrying me.
So...big weekend. Saturday was R's first sewing class in South Austin, so I went and hung out with my folks while she was there.
My mom and I went for a (very long) walk around and through Zilker Park. My legs feel like I fell into a leg-punching machine (if there were really such an invention).
Every step I take feels like my shin muscles are tearing. And this was just from a walk.
Clearly, I need some steroids.
I guess it wasn't such a big weekend after all. It just feels that way, because I feel like I played Football, Hockey, Basketball, and Soccer...all weekend. And because yesterday was the day when we turn our clocks back (so dumb) so I spent all day feeling all jet-laggy.
Tomorrow is our 2 year anniversary, so we are closed. I think we are going to go buy something, but I am not really sure yet.
I am about to hobble downstairs, and take a painkiller. I can't get over how damn sore I am.
I guess that means announcing my eligibility for the NBA, NFL, NHL and MLB draft might have to be postponed.
Wait til next year...
R. had a problem with a website host, and received the following e-mail:
Hello,
Thank you for contacting us.
We apologize for the incontinence this had caused you.
Nightmarishly slow day...not slow because there is no work, but slow because I am waiting for e-mails to come in.
I know they are coming, because I sent them, so they are floating around out there, and blocking me from doing work. Sucks.
Waiting...
I saw, as I logging in an ad for S.X.S.W.
Hard to get excited about that anymore...in the early '90's I was living in Austin, and have a foggy memory of seeing Johnny Cash do a few songs in EMO's....
I drank Guiness then. Lots of it.
Hard to top that... I have never heard of most of the acts I have seen plugged so far, and ZERO desire to see the ones I have.
Ooh, and the joy of walking down 6th street with a million of my closest enemies.
I believe I am going to take El Paso on S.X.S.W.
Waiting...
Waiting...
And then the rain came...
It has been raining (biblically) since about 10 AM. It is now 37 degrees outside.
I guess I am more of a "Texan" than I thought, because I am freezing my ass off.
I was in shorts yesterday, and now, thirtyfuckingseven degrees.
The drainage yard next to my (our) house has become a lake. Well, a pond... OK, a really big puddle, that is teeming with dirty birds.
So, Let's go, Texas...warm it up, Play Ball, let the Horns be hooked, and the Aggies gigged, and more importantly, I can quit wearing "Buffalo clothes".
Thirtygoddamnedseven...
Do you smell that?
The sweet smell of completion.
It turns out I DID have all of the info I needed, so I am finished with that (damned) project.
9 days early...4 days before I thought I would be done.
I feel like one of those "good" kids, who actually started a project when it was assigned.
My technique was always start at the last possible minute, usually at about 8:00 PM the night before it was due.
Admittedly, this strategy is not for everyone, (it used to drive my Mom bonkers) but the enforced deadline (never) worked for me.
Kind of a shame though, the grand total of pages was only 33. I would have bet it was at least 700.
It is still the biggest document I have ever produced, by about 29 pages.
It is a fascinating man-against-nature-fight-for-survival, with a romantic twist. It is the "Ulysses" of third party medical billing. Coming soon, to a theatre near you.
It is an epic, in 5 columns... date...contact...billable hours, and of course, pro bono hours.
The struggles of all 490 characters play out, in a drama unseen since "Gone With the Wind".
You'll laugh, you'll cry, but at all costs, do not miss "Third party medical billing.doc".
If you do, you'll wish you hadn't.
I am feeling like a (work-related) bad-ass today.
Less so in the time it took to type that..I thought I was right at the end of a huge project, but I forgot that I have not yet received all of the info I need to input.
Well, I am still going to finish the project early...it is due on the 15th, but I have been trying to finish by the 10th.
I should be finished tomorrow.
The rain has moved back in...a gloomy day in the 40's. Lamps are on at 11:05 AM.
Small world story #10,681 : I played poker with a Co-Round Rockee. He/She is a huge Express fan, and could not figure out why I am not, yet.
I tried to 'splain that I just moved here last August, man, and I already HAVE a team. It is hard to transfer loyalty that took a lifetime to (fester) develop. I will go to games, but it will be a few minutes before I am a "fan" of more than just the game.
I don't think He/She understood. Texans seem to be willing to root for anything Texan. I am not yet a Texan.
I am trying, though.
GO EXPRESS!!
it just doesn't feel right, yet.
I did get a letter from my father. He was cross, but maybe desperate enough for contact that he can (finally) self edit. He called me lazy...yes, laziness is why it had been [another] 7 years of us not talking. It had nothing to do with him being a jackass, and me being fed up. But , that is OK, whatever gets you through the night, Princess.
I am actually glad that we can (sort of) be like normal people, and at least write, if not talk on the phone. I do miss the talks we used to have...
Granted, the letter was about baseball, KSU basketball, and weather, so not very hard hitting stuff...but my opening salvo to him was no better ( I mentioned that we moved, I quit being a cook/chef/whatever, and how 'bout that local sports franchise).
Need to make a dental appointment, only I am shit-scared, and not sure I am ready to part with yet another toof...
Not really looking forward to tomorrow, as we have tons to do for work, and we need to go to the grocery store, unless we have cereal, and peanut butter for dinner. Which, for the record, would not be the first time for me...
In 6 days, we will be celebrating our 2nd anniversary ( I think that is the Sponge anniversary---first year Paper, 2nd year Sponge, 3rd year Felt et c.)
2 years...that is a pretty long time. So 2 years ago TODAY, I was climbing my sorry, scared ass onto an airplane that was taking me to a whole nuther world...South Africa.
My (sort of) friend even said at the time " Wow, South Africa is in a totally different atmosphere"
To give you an idea of the magnitude of that trip, I had never been off of North America. I had been to California a few times, that was the farthest away from "home" (formerly Buffalo) I had ever been. At that time, I lived in Phoenix, so going to Cali. really wasn't a big deal, but felt like it to me.
So, when I got to my "halfway point" which was Dakar, Senegal, I really had to wonder exactly where the fuck am I going? How much further can this possibly be? Am I really getting married in a few days? and Do I have any more of those pills? what is that smell?? probably in that order.
God, that seems like a lifetime ago. We had to wait 3 months for R's visa to come through, which sucked, obviously, but abstinence does make the heart grow fonder. And look at us now...no longer newlyweds, but not yet hating each other... right now we are in the "gathering evidence" stage in our relationship, somewhere in between.
It is nice.
Ok, we had a hugely productive day...we billed for , like, 800 hours, mang.
Or it was just 7, that felt like 800 ( the first hour, just felt like an hour, the second hour felt like 5 hours, the third day, you went to your mother's, so it just felt like a day)
I get The New Yorker (your fuckin' A right I do...well my mom subscribes, and gives them to me when she is finished) which is a classyish magazine...which is why this type of shit goes on.
I am going to answer "The Mail" from the Feb. 25,2008 issue.
Someone needs to...
Ok, the first one comes from Michael, who lives (unbelievably) in New York City (toughest city in the world my ASS).
Dear Michael
Thank you for your openly anal letter. Note that as the sun's angle of long axis elevates along it's concourse upwards of 105 degrees, you really seem like a massive douchebag.
I would theorize that as the sun, or moon or fucking Venus sets, rises, ebbs or wanes, that you will always seem as such.
I would have "beat your ass" [sic] in school.
Love,
P.
The second one comes from a cute little apple from Washington State named Ann...
Annie, baby,
You seem pretty hot...
Just be careful that you don't go too long without having sex, with a man.
You girls get all crazy when you don't.
Kisses,
P.
And last, and least is another New Yawker, Robert.
Bobbie,
Blah blah de fuckin' blah.
Keep reaching for that rainbow.
P.
I just had to address this...3 pompous douchebags... setting the bar really high for future douchebags. Way to go.
OK...so I feel better...and that is all that really matters to me.
This is Bechau...he is... unique.
Enjoy...
I said ENJOY!!
And that is that ...I am breaking up with Absolute poker tonight...just like HSBC.
I might as well make a clean break of things.
In theory, my computer should run quicker once I get this big , bulky program out of there.
I am playing one last freeroll.
I found some ask a question site where somebody asked how can I get more play money on Absolute, I am going to offer my 3.7 million.
Have been listening to this guy...
Lost tournament. I had AK , went all in raised $3,900 ...One guy called with 4 7 offsuit, (WHY?)
flop was K74....turn Q river J.
What the motherfuck.
Fuck you Absolutepoker.com
And the horse you rode in on.
Superfun morning---started with a nice, long phone call with HSBC.
We got a statement that our account had -.58 and would be suspended. Which is fine, because it is our old account from Buffalo. HSBC is not an option here, so, no surprise that we haven't used it.
I was trying to close the account, and the only way I could talk to a person was to open a new account.
You have to admire the balls...for support on existing accounts, you wait ... and wait.
New account? They pop right up...friendly, happy to help. Eager to take the call.
Anyhow, after explaining to the guy that we were not dissatisfied, the only problem is the nearest branch is in Miami, and that just won't work from Central Tejas...
His first response is that I should go into my local branch, and I could cancel the account there.
Yes, well Ok, No. um see... that is too far to go to bother with so...can we just break up now?
HSBC...you will find someone to take my place someday...you don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me...but I really learned a lot being with you, and I will never forget the time we spent.
Its not you---its me.
I promised myself I wouldn't cry.
On the plus side...I now have 2 big projects to do... with a third looming.
BTW...HSBC, I have been banking with someone else for over 6 months now...
Loose my phone number...It is time to move on.
Last night we stayed up far too late for a "school night" watching Mel Gibson's tour de force
"Apocaliptica". Not really sure why.
It had more holes than swiss cheese, but I guess that is always the case with movies.
I found out this morning that Liberace (yes, the Liberace) was the piano player at the Park Lane.
I never would have thought I worked in the same building as ol' Lee.
I am reading the biography of Peter Gust (Your Host, Peter Gust) who was the guy who made the Park Lane the special place that is was...long before people like Me screwed it all up.
It depicts a VERY different city of Buffalo than I experienced.
Only the place names are familiar.
The customs, optimism and class had all been long pounded out o' Bflo by the time I arrived.
During my first tour of duty at the Park Lane, there was an old, yellowed piece of paper near the back door that read:
Say Goodnight to Peter Gust.
And I did, every night I worked there. I had NO idea who he was...but saying "goodnight, Peter Gust" never seemed like a lot to axe, so every time I went out that door I said it.
Even if it was just a quick smoke break, of which we took gazillions. We probably smoked more dope than Bob Marley there... good times.
I wonder how much Liberace smoked we he worked there...
If people only knew what their chef was just doing.
And so Wednesday ends with a ...er whats that?? It is only TUESDAY?!
OK, Tuesday ends with a series of smallish mishaps that I can't figure out, and now feel dumb.
A parade of my inadequacy.
We are going to the grocery store...which isn't a big deal because we are buying shit from the fruit and veg ghost town...and avoiding the carnival atmosphere of the meats and cheese aisle...not to mention the party in the cookie/chip aisle and the clusterfuck that is the Dairy dept.
Oddly enough, the soap/paper stuff and personal hygiene departments are also usually devoid of human life.
I shudder to think...
I have to note this...
I have not cut my hair or beard since I started working at home ( Thanks, Ros!!) and this morning I washed them both ( I usually do at night). The beard looks like it always does,
beardy,
But my hair...
It is a magnificent coiffure a la Michael Landon. Swooping dramatically, and feathering you couldn't get in ANY salon (even in Johannesburg). It looks like a hair style from a late 70's show, only grayer. Like a feathery wingy gray helmet...with shine, and body.
All of this without the use of comb, or anything for that matter. Just lucky, I guess.
I am truly to be ridiculed.
And Ros is. The other day she said I looked like the singer, Kenny.
I said " Loggins??" incredulously.
"Rogers" she replied.
Shit.
I need a shave.
So, tonight should be my last night playing poker at (on?) Absolute Poker.
I can't say that I will miss it. I was so close to getting the $10 million dollar hall of fame at one point,but then lost interest in pretend money games. I still have a few million in play money...maybe I will dump it off to someone. But as of now, I am so utterly disgusted with the site, and it's lousy players that I can hardly stomach having their software on my computer.
I am not sure where I will play next...tons to choose from.
In the last 2 days, I have had 4 of a kind beaten by a straight flush (3 royal) SEVEN TIMES!!!
5 of them after hitting quads on the flop, and my opponent drawing out.
Has obviously cost me a bunch.
The last time my money was low, I went on such a hot streak, I couldn't lose if I tried.
I actually hope that doesn't happen this time.
Unless...
Ok...WTF is wrong with people?!?!!
Started off day with a call (well, 5 calls) from some stupid bitch who "couldn't understand the voice message", then got dumber the longer poor Ros spoke with her...
Dumb bitch: "I want to return this...I thought it was free" (yes, that is why you gave your credit card information on the order page. I frequently give my credit card info out for services I think are free)
Ros : " Ok, Send it to this address..." (repeats address 4 times to her royal dumbness)
Dumb Bitch: "Well, I also want to tell you, I think this book is tacky--it doesn't even have a table of contents"
Ros : "Um, I will pass along your comments"
Dumb Bitch: "Will I be charged?" (I thought you thought it was free?)
Ros: "Not if book is in good condition"
D.B.: "Define good condition"
Ros: "Able to be re-sold"
D. B.: "Well, it won't be, I have highlighted the first 4 chapters" (thought it was tacky--seems like you meant to keep it by highlighting shit)
Ros: "..."
D.B.: "I had to highlight it to keep my place" ( no comment)
and that's just the top of it.
It is going to be nice and warm today, though. 85 degrees (thats 28 degrees to you non-Fahrenheit speakers)
Today is wavering between a "whatever" and a "Godammit" so far...
and it is still early.
Sunday night...where did this weekend go?
I am tired of these painkillers. They make me feel like everything requires thought...even automatic stuff, like peeing, or walking.
Have been getting royally screwed at the poker tables, to the point where I am just going to play out the money I have at Absolute... and find a new site.
I won't bore me with the details, but after Saturday all I can say is E-fucking-nough.
Absolute Poker has something called a "Bad Beat Jackpot"...where people in certain games can win big money if they get fucked out of a hand ( 4 of a kind as a losing hand)..
the site has given away MILLIONS o' dollars for the fuck story hands...
In retrospect, that should have been a red flag ( a BIG, BRIGHT one) that the site had some sort of bullshit attached to it.
Anyhow, enough poker bitching.
Ros painted our old blue desk white this weekend...it looks much better.
Gearing up for another super-fun week.
At least it is 'pay-week'
And tomorrow marks 2 weeks since we ate meat, or anything canned or processed.
Tonight I am really craving "bad" food ( Bacon- double-cheesburger, cheese fries, and a strawberry slush from Sonic.) but I am thinking that If I tried to eat that, the grease, and shit will just make me feel sick.
Bad food is like Karma...it really sucks when you learn about it. Do you remember the day you learned the concept of Karma? Ruined everything, didn't it?
Hmpf...I'm going to the garage.
So...
Even after all these years, I STILL don't know what they meant in that song...Worth a Deuce?
Seems like workin' hard should be worth more...
I can't seem to get motivated to finish today... I don't know if it is the meds, the herbs, or just my chronic laziness (maybe one from column A, one from column B + soup and egg roll)
Friday,
Won a bunch playing poker last night.
Surprising, because the pills I am taking for my toofache are very strong, but not surprising because these young guys watch a little poker on ESPN, and think they are legends.
Then they CRY when you beat them, and resort to namecalling.
It is so cute.
I am hoping to finish this (boring) project today, but I know I won't.
Mailing a letter to my father today...hope it is well received.
Poor Ros is waiting for Pamprin to kick in, while I am waiting for my pain pill to kick in.
Come on pills...do your stuff.
Went to bed the other night with a slight toothache...
Woke up to a swollen face, and mucho pain..
Called the Dentist from the Chamber of Commerce map we have hanging in the garage at 9:30.
Was given a slot to see dentist at 10:30 ...
Was home (with meds) by 11:30.
Small towns rule.
And then this morning, I took my pills, without food ( Idiot!!) and after about 30 minutes, had to go dry heave in the bathroom until I was a big sweating sweatball.
I looked like an athlete...except for the gut.
I sure will be happy when my adult teeth come in.
Also, on my way home from drugstore, I was turning left as some lady was turning right...
she was so mesmerized by my beard, or tattoos, or maybe the pimpin' whip, that she crashed right up onto the curb, and bottomed out.
She looked like she was pulling off a nice frontside railslide ( Tony Hawk!)
I drove on past her, giving her my patented "You are a complete moron" look (developed and perfected in Buffalo, NY) and she had the absolute nerve to give ME the finger.
I was too busy laughing my balls off to respond, and I watched her struggle to free herself from the curb in my rearview mirror.
She is lucky...had she pulled some shit like that on me before I was married, I would have stopped, gone back, and really had a nifty confrontation. I have had some epic road/ street fights, and, frankly I don't take that type of shit from people. Ever.
Toothaches, and road battles..Ahhh, good times.
Lost a few bucks over the weekend.
It was like the poker site was conspiring against me. Every possible fuck-story of a hand happened, and after about an hour, I quit in disgust.
I was tempted to keep playing, force the game, but didn't.
Today was the start of Week 2 of our little food-detox experiment.
We last ate meat last Sunday...Ros ate Chef Boyar(gag)dee Spaghetti and Meatballs, but there is no meat in them, so one week.
Feels pretty good. Nice to not have that bloaty, bacon-double-cheeseburger feeling.
Plus, you feel like if you just had a big plate of vegetables for dinner,you have Earned these cookies, so treats become (even more) guilt free.
For President's Day, Ros and I dressed up in our Presidential pajamas, and watched a whole heap of crappy TV.
It was ideal.
The profitable night continues...I am currently playing in a 2 table tournament... 4 players left,
Check that...3 players left...So I am going to finish this game, and go to bed, but I will be over $40 up...
I know it isn't a lot of money, but it is very cool when your hobby can turn a profit for you.
I would (and have played for nothing)
Ok, I took 2nd place, good for another $10.80.
So, tonight I made $53.20.
Fuck, yeah!
Wow.
Meshuggah is so damn cool.
Yes!!!...time for another giddy "I just won some money" post.
$10 buy in tournament....I finished in 2nd place, good for $27.
Now the rest of my poker night feels like it is free.
Even more so...just won another $8.40.
2 for 2 tonight.
Nice night...I am going to garage, to celebrate for twenty minutes or so...
Up way too early for a Saturday.
We stayed up until about 3:00 AM watching all of the "The Amazing Race" (go Hippies!) episodes that Ros recorded.
We would SO rock that competition...except for the whole " I am shit-scared to fly" issue. I can fly...with lots of "help" but wouldn't be able to do other things, like move, if I had to take that much "help".
It isn't really fair to call it fear of flying...it is fear of crashing.
Started this post---and then realized that my submission to kissthisguy.com had been posted.
Whilst I was at kissthisguy I had to submit another lyric...Mississippi Queen, by Mountain.
I always thought he said:
"Bought a bag of pot and we were getting high"
But, evidently it is really:
"Boy, I Beg your Pardon, I was getting mine"
Boy, is my face red.
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