Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
It’s a Sign!
A truck ran over our company’s sign. Apparently, a semi-tractor-trailer driver had trouble maneuvering into the adjacent building’s parking area. So, now, one of the huge brick columns supporting the sign is doing the way-back.
I’d like to think this is some kind of Divine Retribution for the ugly business cards that every employee in our company was given last week.*
Saturday, July 22, 2006
ohmygod . . .
The Girls played (as a favor) at a church “block party” last night . . . part of some city-wide religious out-reach . . . thing. Anyway, this guy walks up to Michelle as we’re leading Mia back to our car to go home.
This guy: “I just wanted you to know that I go to this church, and my license plate is ‘80s DUDE,’ and I obviously thought you were great.”
Michelle (backing away): “Thanks.”
This guy (reading my shirt): “What’s . . . that . . . say . . ?”
Me: “Oh, it says, ‘Oh my god . . .’ “
This guy: “Uh . . . ha . . .” *walks off*
Michelle: “Probably not the most appropriate shirt to wear to this.”
Me: “You should’ve worn yours.”
"Rock Star" • The Bad Citizen • (4) Comments closed • Permalink
Thursday, July 20, 2006
I Think Maybe that Guy was an Insurance Salesman
So, Mia’s preschool, which is still pretty new, is forming a PTA/PTO. As I’m the one who usually picks Mia up, I’d be the obvious household-representative in this parental venture. I’d missed the first meeting to elect the officers, so I thought I’d show up for the next one. Which was yesterday evening.
This was a first time for me. And if I’d had any preconceived notion how things would unfold, it would’ve been pretty much as it was: slightly unorganized, mostly cordial, and somewhat uncomfortable (hello, toddler chairs!). My favorite part was the know-it-all douchebag who showed up right as things were getting going, took over the meeting with his “questions” and unsolicited advice and, when it was clear that no-one was gonna take his suggestions and run with them, promptly got up and walked out. The other great part was the general feeling that standard fundraising doesn’t work and that most parents would prefer to just cut a check to the PTO rather than trying to foist candy bars or pizza dough on their neighbors and coworkers, especially if there were school-donated incentives.
My direct participation in this meeting was very limited, but useful, so I guess I’ll go next time. Because, while I may be misanthropic in general, I feel it’s important to be involved in Mia’s school life.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
The Longest Day
My Saturdays have a fairly familiar pattern. That’s the day I usually spend taking my mom out for groceries, which doubles as mom’s time with Mia. Sometimes, there are other activities mixed in as well. This past Saturday was overflowing, and I had the whole day planned as an orchestrated pilgrimage around the Greater Tallahassee MSA.
You see, Michelle was out of town with the Girls, so it was me and Mia all day. Besides the grocery-shopping with mom, there was a play date planned with her step-cousin in Woodville and a cookout that evening at Mr. Glory Hole’s. Plus, I was gonna swing by the office to do a couple things.
I’m actually amazed that the whole day went “as planned.” I’d asked in advance to borrow Michelle’s shitty-ass Digital Elph to document the Day in the Life I had laid out. So click on our lovely daughter to begin the Flickr tour.
I didn’t include many of the pictures from the Glory Hole cookout because, well, they weren’t that interesting. Y’know, not as interesting as a blurry shot of my wife text-calling me a “whore.”
And I chose not to do a Stats for this weekend, but I can summarize by saying that I drank WAY too much (not even a full cow-sized steak and an Anna Nicole Smith-sized breast of chicken was gonna soak THAT shit up). And I may have needed to lie down on the floor for, I dunno, 45 minutes or so to keep it real. I seriously haven’t had a drink since. Actually, I think I’m still hungover.
Or, more likely, I deserve the “Sign of the ‘P’.”
Drinking • Weekends • (1) Comments closed • Permalink
Monday, July 17, 2006
There’s GOLD in Those Black Hills!
(Erin, if you haven’t caught up with the Deadwood, you’d better not be reading this. Turn off your computer and go watch it.)
So, according to the HBO website, we’re halfway through the season and I can’t for the life of me figure out how they’re gonna hold things together for another six episodes. Seriously, the town/camp is gonna EXPLODE. Fucking George Hearst, the dirty bastard. And we know that he isn’t going to get gloriously murdered, because the motherfucker went on to discover Cosmopolitan. Y’know, by extension.
What worries me, though, is that our dark, laudenum-laced lady of the camp, Mrs. Alma Garret-Ellsworth, is NOT a real person from history. And, thus, she could get off’d at any moment. Why can’t she have the sapphic moment with Joanie? Jane? For fuck’s sake!
Friday, July 14, 2006
As we don’t have Drano in our house right now, and should you ever come over for sushi, don’t choose the long, wooden chopsticks. Use the short, painted ones.
Just a tip.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Old English in Gainesville
When you’re relaxing after your band’s set, played to a crowd of three, by listening to a heavy-metal band made up of dejected high-school dropouts lifted from a Mountain Goats’ song (with a crowd approximately 33% larger than yours), and the bum who didn’t pay cover climbs onto the stage to flap his arms to the music before he is guided from the stage by the soundman and then ushered out by the doorguy, you’d better keep an eye on your malt liquor is all I’m sayin’.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
No, Really, This is the Last One.
Three Best Things from World Cup ‘06
- That second goal Brazil scored against Ghana in the second round. Where the guy (not that fucker Ronaldo) received the ball right in front of the goalie and sort of passed it to himself around the goalie’s head.
- That time the player from Trinidad & Tobago was kicked in the balls, and he was lying on the field, reaching into his shorts and rubbing himself . . . for all the world to see. As a teammate was helping him off the field, he was holding open his shorts and spraying cold water on his battered bits. (I’m guessing. He may have had some thirsty rodents in there.)
- That my friend telecommuted for the entire World Cup and was able to watch all 64 games live (with a few exceptions). I watched several games on his giant HDTV (when I should’ve been at work). There’s a funny story where he was on a conference call during the U.S. / Ghana match and he’d told the meeting participants that he’d just come out of another meeting as if he was in the office. Just then, the U.S. scored their only “real” goal of the World Cup and someone in the living room screamed, “IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME!” Really, that story only gets better . . . each time I relive it.
Three Five Worst Things from World Cup ‘06
- You know the worst thing has to be the flopping. A soccer-hater in my office forwarded around this crude, line-drawing animation he’d found where one player is doing the alternating step-overs then the other guy kicks the ball away and the first player flops on the ground. About sums it up, right? Maybe the U.S. team would do better if they could master the art of recklessly dribbling the ball into the penalty box and then falling down whenever someone brushes against them, or stumbling over a player who’s been lying prone in their path for several seconds. Because, y’know, I’ve seen players manage to stay upright with another player leaping onto their backs, and jumping over the outstretched legs of opposing players at a full run. Does being near the penalty box suddenly make them “special?” Seriously, the most fascinating thing about the Zidane head-butting incident was that it was the first time I’d seen an Italian player legitimately fall down during the entire tournament.
- On the subject of flopping, how about Marcelo Balboa? At first, I was, all, “Eh, whatever, let’s just watch the game.” But with all of his talk about, “He really sold that” in reference to the flopping, and his general support for taking a dive to gain a cheap scoring opportunity, I started to wince every time he opened this mouth. Jackass.
- Losing $10.
- It’s gonna be really hard for me to get enthusiastic about college football this year. You ask, “Why? How could that be?” And I say, “Because you didn’t graduate from Florida State University, and your alma mater’s coaching staff isn’t going to squander some of the nation’s greatest college football talent. Again.” Or, something like that.
- The U.S. team underperformed. So, in keeping with recent World Cups, maybe in 2010 we’ll light it up. Hey, and Bruce Arena can finally use that substitution he didn’t use in the Italy game. Y’know, like, isn’t there some kind of “Sorry-We-Didn’t-Play-to-Win” raincheck/coupon for World Cup substitutes? “Here you go, Eddie Johnson. Here’s your big chance to shine. Make your country proud.”
Speaking of . . . maybe our next president will realize there’s an international soccer tournament happening and his nation’s team is, in fact, part of it. I’m sure W’d be all over it had it been some fucking cow-chip toss.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Wherein I’m a Fuckin’ Heel. And Anglophiles Everywhere Weep Wee Tears. Again.
So I guess England won’t be beating Portugal for a trip to the semifinals, eh? One nation is transformed into an appropriately sorrow’d collective of Wayne-Rooney-stomping-Portuguese-nuts-replay-watchers, while the other catapults to the top of the heap of Soccer Nations I Love to Hate . . . seriously, right ahead of Spain and Mexico. God bless you, Christian Ronaldo, you fuckin’ choad!
The other news from this weekend was my sister-in-law (in-law) giving birth. Being the one person who’d expressed a disinterest in actually being present to watch, I volunteered to keep Mia and her cousin while everyone went to witness the Miracle of Childbirth. The event started to unfold Monday, and I stayed with the girls. Until I had band practice. Which I did not cancel as we had to prepare for our show (which is tonight). And, as it turned out, the band practice magically coincided with the exact climax and finale of the birth. So Michelle had to sit in for me. Yeah, I suck.
In other news, I’ve had water in my left ear for about five days. And it’s, seriously, starting to drive me right motherfucking crazy.