August 2006
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Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.


Tuesday, August 29, 2006


Aaaaaaaaand we’re BACK from our wild adventure at Wild Adventures. Actually, we’ve been back since Saturday afternoon. And it wasn’t all that wild. For instance, the days we were there, the park was open for 23 hours (combined). I think we spent a grand total of nine hours there. Did we get our money’s worth? Mia looks happy in the pictures we took, so I’ll go with a qualified “yes.”

There was a lot of half-joking about Wild Adventures being a “redneck Disney” before leaving for Valdosta, and I was somewhat afraid that it was gonna be a fixed-base version of the Fair. Luckily, it was more grand (and clean!) than the Fair. But without the kiddie-stimulation-overload of Disney. Which I think was good for Mia’s first “real” amusement park experience. And Michelle and I had some adult-ride time (separately), and you’d be hard pressed to find un-pussified rides like The Hangman at Disney. (Definitely one of the better coasters I’ve ridden. The old-school wooden Cheetah left me feeling more beaten up than the Red Sox in a five-game series with the Yankees. Won’t say it wasn’t thrilling, though. Just painful.)

Mia only cried one ride to an early conclusion . . . ironically a motion simulator that featured Spongebob Squarepants. She did whine about getting off another ride, but I think that was because it was beneath her. Yeah, no more riding alone in a giant bee or frog and going in circles. Her favorite ride: the motherfucking tilt-a-whirl. Jesus. On Day Two, she and I rode it while Michelle went to ride the Swamp Thing (weak!), and Mia went into hysterics when I had to pull her off because, unlike the day before, there was actually a line to get on the ride.* And when Michelle took her BACK to ride it (while I was riding the Swamp Thing), someone actually threw up on it before they could get on and it had to be shut down for “cleaning” (i.e., the hose).

Mia rode three of the nine coasters at the park, which brings me to an important issue. While there’s the selling point that Wild Adventure does, in fact, HAVE nine rollercoasters, it’s close to physically impossible for anyone to ride all of them in a single visit. Why? Because the smallest is for kids around 3 feet tall, and The Hangman has a minimum height limit of 52”. I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of “kids” who’d confidently stride off the biggest, scariest coaster in the park and then say they wanna wind down on the Fiesta Whatever-the-Fuck.

Still, I give this park a strong thumb sideways. While not being magical or transcendent, it had all the requisite charm. The sometimes sullen ride operators. The surprisingly edible food (even though we were, charmingly, gouged for it). And the really nice clown (Mia’s “fairy” friend), who went a little out of her way to make sure Mia had a nice birthday.

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shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/29 at 03:49 PM
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Friday, August 25, 2006

Monthly Newsletter: Month Forty-Nine?

You’re asleep in the next room here at the Hampton Inn & Suites in Valdosta, Georgia. We spent the day (well, four hours of it) at Wild Adventures to celebrate your birthday. Tomorrow, after we wake up, take in the complimentary “hot breakfast,” and repack our belongings, we’re gonna swing by Wild Adventures again for a hopefully longer session of fun before making the 90-minute drive back to Tallahassee. Sunday is the family “party” and the many presents.

You “officially” started preschool two weeks ago, and you’re already asking about kindergarten. Which kind-of worries us, as we’re really torn about the various schooling options that lie before us . . . the overly diverse magnet school (focus on the arts) we’re zone for, the “charter” school that may or may not be run by hippies, or the school your mommy’s office is zoned for (demographically resembling the city as a whole and a solid performer). I feel like a racist worrying about these kinds of issues, but your early homecare had excluded African-American children as a business decision*, and the subsequent preschool years have been overwhelmingly whitebread.

(ASIDE: I really tried, just now, to be fair in the battle of Pepsi vs. Coke as manifested in the third-floor vending area. Of course your mommy was gonna want Diet Coke, so that was a given. But I tried to get Sierra Mist instead of Sprite, and Aquafina over Dasani, and the fucking Pepsi machine would NOT take my dollar bills. The Coke machine sucked those things right in. So we’re drinking their horrible corporate water over Pepsi’s.)

Look, Mia, we really couldn’t ask for a better daughter. Is what I’m trying to say. Sadly, you’re cursed with imperfect parents . . . your mother, who won’t eat ketchup because it’s made from tomatoes but loves barbeque sauce (denying that it’s just spiced-up ketchup), and your father, who until a year ago thought that wasabi was, like guacamole, made from avocados, and just earlier this evening uttered the phrase, “I bet Tallahassee is gettin’ tore up by rain right now.”

Rise above, sweet Mia. Rise above.

There's more to drink (click for it) »

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/25 at 08:26 PM
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Monday, August 21, 2006

A Plague on BOTH of the Other People in My House

If you’ve run into Michelle on Vox, she’s doing better. The special “neck gimp shit” that’s been beating her down is letting up . . . we think. Turns out that there’s an outbreak of that in Tallahassee right now. We found out because Mia had a rash over the weekend that the Internets revealed to be Fifth Disease (confirmed by the doctor this morning). The virus for that quite likely caused Michelle’s “neck gimp shit,” too. And it’s funny, because once you’re showing symptoms, you’re past the contagious phase. It incubates for weeks. This is adding a new and fun variable in our upcoming trips to Wild Adventures (for Mia’s birthday) and Atlanta, as we have no idea whether I’ll (also) succumb to this Plague.

So, y’know, understandably, this wasn’t the most eventful weekend on record. What, you need proof?

There's more to drink (click for it) »

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/21 at 04:01 PM
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Saturday, August 19, 2006

Black Belt

I gotta say, and I’m a little ashamed to do so, but all this JonBenet upheaval is bringing up some really difficult feelings. This is hard, but . . . y’see, I have this . . . black belt. And I can’t wear it anymore.

It started a few weeks ago, some time after I purchased the belt (used) at a thrift store. I’d been trying to find a narrow black belt to wear with dress pants to work, where most people wear shorts and flip flops and tight tops with no bras. Anyway, I showed up at my daughter’s preschool to pick her up and, well, my belt was undone. Which I discovered rather conspicuously in front of some other child’s mother. There is some strange law of physics at work here, wherein the belt-hole-metal-thingy can slip BACKWARDS through the buckle and just come open. Some part of this has to do with me having the belt too tight, I’m sure. And some part has resulted in me looking like a child molester.

I hope I see that woman next Wednesday at the PTO meeting. I’ll be sure to wear my special belt.*

There's more to drink (click for it) »

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/19 at 09:43 PM
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Monday, August 14, 2006

It’s Been Too, Too Long

I don’t really have an excuse for all the slackitude here at Kamikaze Lunchmeat. Things at work have shifted from Maximum Overdrive to a more normal, maintainable pace. There’s been a lot of downtime at home, too, as our bands had shows combined with light practice schedules this past week. And I have a renewed sense of purpose and optimism . . . relatively, anyway.

So, yeah, Tuesday nights have never proved to be a boon for our band. When we signed on to open for an up-and-coming local goth band’s CD-release show last week, there wasn’t a wellspring of enthusiasm. But it turned out really great. Even if I did knock over one of their guitars while setting up (no harm, no foul, right?). There was a healthy crowd, bolstered by people to see the three very different-sounding performances (the first act was a solo-acoustic friend of the band).

Speaking of music, my life has been a little bit taken over by Mew. I think I’d heard of them when their previous CD came out, but I’d forgotten them until I read the review on Pitchfork for their new one. Sounded like a nice find (frankly rare on Pitchfork), so I went looking for some MP3s and stumbled onto their MySpace page. Where, for the first time ever, I listened to every second of every song available and found myself swinging by Vinyl Fever on my way to pick up equipment for the show Tuesday night. In short, this band is amazing. I figured after Interpol and Metric, I’d never be this excited about discovering another band again.

In other news:

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/14 at 12:13 PM
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Monday, August 07, 2006

Like His Hero, Superman, That Kid IS Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

First of all, shout out to Tallahassee. If you live anywhere like us, you’re often plagued by noisy menaces of the road, and I’m torn as to which is worse: the souped-up pickups with too-large aggressive tires that apparently require in-board tugboat engines to fucking rotate the wheels*, or the tricked-out Honda Civics that are dropped to the ground and made to sound like mopeds**. Seriously, I don’t know which is worse, but I’m leaning toward the pickups.

So, the party was a good time. It was another one featuring horses, pony rides, and a hay ride. Figures that when the kids find out that the horses eat 40 pounds of hay a day, they’re going to abandon the just-for-fun feeding and play on the big mound of dirt in the barn. The birthday boy didn’t bully anyone because he was totally TWEAKED OUT on sugar. Seriously, the kid was running CONSTANTLY and sweating more than Patrick Ewing. The only food served at the party? Cupcakes. With tons of icing. Before lunch. The birthday boy sat down long enough to blow out a candle and lick all of the icing off one of the cupcakes. My only conversation with his mother centered on the fact that he takes really long naps every day. And watching him running around like Roadrunner, I’d say they were well-earned.

There's more to drink (click for it) »

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/07 at 04:04 PM
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Thursday, August 03, 2006

‘Tis the Season

It’s birthday time, apparently, at Mia’s preschool. In the past week, we’ve gotten two invitations to birthday parties for classmates. The first one is this Saturday, and it’s for That Mean Boy Who Pushes Mia Down a Lot.

As Michelle and I have a history of attending social functions that we don’t want to be at, thrown by people we don’t really like, Mia seems to have inherited our Socially Curious Misanthrope gene. Observe:

Me: “Do you like TMBWPMDaL?”

Mia shakes her head.

Me: “But you want to go to his birthday party?”

Mia nods.

I guess to protect her as we protected ourselves in similar situations, we should send Mia to the party with a fifth of vodka. Or some Monte Alban.

shaken and poured by Scott-san on 08/03 at 11:14 AM
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There's no "I" in threesome.


I can't remember whether I've seen anything new since my birthday. Oh, right, that one.


I was hoping for a little more detail in the accounts of mauling-by-zombie. But the anecdotes were disturbing, nonetheless..


I don't have a solid grasp on which exact cheap beers I had at the ATL watering holes.