Here We Are Now, Entertain Us

Wow, listen to those stocks fall! You can almost hear them whistle as they fly by! I listened to This American Life on Saturday, and the show was all the about the "current economic crisis," and basically just tried to explain what the hell is going on, and how it happened, and possible outcomes and/or solutions. It's pretty scary. And a little exciting. Although I'm guessing that if I had children, a home, or any sort of responsibility it would be less exciting and just scary. But anyway, it was a good program, and worth listening to online if you're at all interested in economics (which I usually am not, but still found the program interesting).

I have started rereading Infinite Jest (and have already, at page 77 or so, been reminded of why it is the Greatest Book Ever) and it has got me thinking about entertainment, and what type of entertainment I like, and I'm realizing that without a TV and with very limited exposure to movies, the entertainment I've been enjoying is a lot different than what it used to be. (It just took me like 5 attempts to try and type 'different' correctly). My current top pieces of entertainment (and maybe I would so far as to call these things 'art'): DFW stuff, Savage Love, This American Life, and Car Talk. And I think there's a definite common thread among them all, and it probably has something to do with the narrative tone and the word conversational.
But then who cares.

BJ called me on the goddamn telephone the other day. A mere one day after Schlueter and I had decided that we were writing him out of our respective wills because he is a non-answerer. So he's back in the will. TO BJ GAILEY I BEQUEATH: ONE SMALL-TO-MEDIUM SIZED BAG OF SNACK CHIPS TO MAKE UP FOR THE BAG I ATE.

For those who haven't heard: we think that the J-Dog got the highest grade in her class on the ol' physics test last week. She got like 160+%. She's a hard worker.

A Look At Yesterday

7:15am --Alarm goes off. Hit snooze once. Shower. Leave for work.

8:30am-11:30am -- Work.

11:30am-12:50pm -- Drive to bus station at the Maryland Travel Plaza. Get required passes for parking, pick up bus ticket, wait for bus.

12:50pm-4:30pm -- Ride bus to the Port Authority bus terminal in NYC. Listened to some DFW readings, latest David Byrne/Brian Eno album, et al.

4:30pm-7:30pm -- Arrive at the Port Authority bus terminal in NYC. Walk around Times Square a little bit. Buy some beers and a bag of Doritos. Walk around a little more. Get approached by a man who asks, "Is your name Augustine?" Take beer and Doritos and hunker down across the street from the back door of the Letterman show. For some reason, this is my absolute favorite place in New York. It's a good place to people watch, and it's out of the way. I saw, in order: Bill Hader, Calista Flockhart, various Late Show band members, Alan Kalter, and Paul Schaffer. Then walk to Schlueter's hotel, just around the corner.

7:30pm-10:45pm -- Schlueter arrives at hotel, we walk to restaurant in neighborhood. Some type of pub. I get my steak, have beers. Schlueter gets a wrap of some sort, has beers. We talk about lots of things. Good time.

10:45pm -- I check my phone and see that my bus leaves in 45 minutes. Pay tab, quick goodbye on 8th Avenue.

10:45pm-11:20pm -- Run down 8th Ave. a few blocks to the Port Authority bus terminal, which is large and confusing. I ask the person at the information desk if she knows where my bus will be leaving from. She says Gate 74. I find Gate 74 with a few minutes to spare. Above Gate 74, one of the destinations listed is the Maryland Travel Plaza (my destination), so I figure I am in the right spot. There is no bus and no people there. I wait for the bus to arrive.

12:15am -- Still no bus. I ask a Greyhound baggage dude walking by if he knows when the bus will arrive. He tells me that my bus left from Gate 78. He says that the next bus will be at 3:45am and that it will take me to downtown Baltimore, not the Maryland Travel Plaza.

12:15am-3:45am -- Fitful sleeping on the floor of the Port Authority bus terminal. Buzz from beers going away rapidly and unpleasantly.

3:45am -- Board bus to Baltimore. More fitful sleeping on bus.

5am-ish -- Vomit in bathroom at back of bus. Thank god for gum.

7am -- Arrive at downtown Baltimore bus terminal. Wait for transfer to Maryland Travel Plaza.

9am -- Arrive at Maryland Travel Plaza.

9:45am -- Arrive home. Poop.


So it was good to see Schlueter. Would I do it all over again? Yes. I would probably just have the Doritos, though, and not the beers before dinner. And I would ask someone different where I was supposed to catch my bus. But other than those 2 things, it was a really fun trip.

The Internet is Not Dead, Bitches!

I am getting a cold. Perhaps acquired from my father (who had a cold this weekend), perhaps acquired by swimming in the ocean when it was probably too cold to be swimming in the ocean. I went to bed last night at 6pm and woke up this morning at 6am. I drank a half gallon of juice throughout the day at work today. Must kick this bastard in its johnson. What the hell, "johnson" isn't in Blogger's spellcheck dictionary? How the hell can one compose a decent blog post without "johnson"?

My parents arrived on Friday evening and we drove up to Wildwood, NJ when the Jeanners and I got home from our respective jobs. We spent the weekend going to the beach, exploring the Jersey shore, swimming in the hotel pool, eating at various restaurants, and driving. It was a good time. Although Jeannie and I did have an argument. Which was definitely the low point of my trip. Thanks a lot, Jeannie! Sheesh! It makes me want to buy some new shoes and get a divort.

My parents ended up staying in our place on Sunday night, which was not planned but worked out fine. It's weird to have your parents sleeping in your bed (not while we were in it, of course. We were on an air mattress in the living room).

Found out some shit about my dad's stomach tumor. I'm gonna call it a tumor, because although nobody knows quite what it is, I'm pretty sure you can call pretty much any unexplained growth a "tumor". So anyway, he showed my the report he got from when they gave him a CAT scan for the kidney stone (which still hasn't passed, by the way), and from the report I learned that the tumor is not in his stomach (the organ), but rather his abdomen. And it's 11cm X 11cm X 8cm. Which is bigger than I had imagined it to be, and seems big. So it's concerning. And his tests are scheduled for October 13th, and it'll be like 3 days of tests, and I'm sure just not very fun. But we had a good chat about it (in the jacuzzi at the hotel) and he seems ok with it, and ready to face whatever is on the way. And of course, there is still a chance that it could be nothing. So we'll see...

Thursday I am going to take a bus up to NYC after work and meet Schlueter for a fabulous New York dinner (I think I'm gonna have a steak, goddammit) and then bus back late Thursday night. Looking forward to it. Headphones, reading material, walking around New York, Schlueter, dinner, headphones, reading material.

Doesn't Anybody Care About Long Turds Anymore?

A few interesting DFW links I have come across in the last few days, especially interesting if you've read Infinite Jest:

http://theknowe.net/dfwfiles/pdfs/Wallace-Amherst_Review-The_Planet.pdf

and

http://www.granadahouse.org/alumni_letters.htm

Also, purchased the Dolly Parton album Jolene yesterday and have been totally enjoying it. If you've ever thought that maybe you might enjoy a Dolly Parton album (and I know you have), I would definitely recommend this one as a good place to start. There's a bonus track where she sings a song called "Cracker Jack" that's about her childhood puppy (the titular Cracker Jack), and I know you're thinking, "Jesus Christ, Dolly Parton singing a song called "Cracker Jack," and it's all about her childhood puppy -- that sounds like my idea of a very very bad thing," but it's really not. And two main reasons it doesn't completely suck are A) subtle production and B) Dolly Parton's vocals. She can sell the songs, and she does it by honesty.

I had a dream about The Beej last night. I think he had come to town to see some sort of CSC production. It was nice to see him, even if it didn't really happen.

Both Jeannie and I were sleeping very very soundly this morning when the alarm went off. It's not often that we're both sleeping well. And 5:45 felt far too early.

My parents are still planning on coming for their visit this Friday. Daddy-o has not passed ye olde kidneye stone. But left a message today saying that he feels up to the trip.

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that I'll bet that this is the first blog post that ever talked about David Foster Wallace and Dolly Parton. Two great tastes that taste great together.

Update!

Well, there really isn't much of an update. My dad went to the oncologist on Friday, and the oncologist said, "Yes, we should perform tests on whatever this thing is in your tummy that showed up on the CAT scan for the kidney stone." The semi-good news is that the oncologist did not seem like the tests needed to be performed immediately and said that my folks could come out here for their visit and then get the tests when they return to the Lou.

So, now I'm just hoping that my Dad passes his stone (ouch!) before they come out here, we have a grand ol' time, then he gets his arse back home for tests and everything turns out hunky dory.

Other updates:

I ran 10 miles the other day. Jeannie knows all about it.

Eating less fat makes for very long turds. There, I said it.

Schlueter might be coming East! Possible NYC rendezvous in the works...

Me Pap

So I got a call from my sister this evening, who told me that my Dad went to the emergency room this morning, and the long story made short is that he has a kidney stone. And the other part of the long story is that they found a "mass" in his "stomach."

Now, we don't know what the "mass" is, and we don't know if "stomach" means the actual organ or what my dad calls the area between his boobies and his pants. So he goes to his oncologist (my dad had lymphoma back in the day, when I was like 8) tomorrow, for tests and probes and pokes and who knows what else.

(sigh.)

I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago, and he sounds fine. He sounds like the thing he's most concerned about is trying to get my deposit on the hotel back if they have to cancel their trip. We are all professing the belief that we shouldn't worry until we actually have something to worry about, and at the same time I'm sure that we are all worried.

The Day

Feeling better. Woke up this morning and felt as though a little bit of the fog of the past few days had lifted.

Things of the day stuck in my head:

1. An old man and his wife came into the department this morning. I asked him, "How are you?" He said (in a cute, smiley old man French accent), "I'll have to go into deep communion with myself in order to answer that question."

Five minutes later, he walked by and said, "So-so."

Five minutes after that, I took he and his wife to find a Pete Seeger cd and he said, "Fantastic."

Then, five minutes later, as he and his wife came to pay, he said, "Overflowing with happiness."

I don't know. That little snippet doesn't do justice to the guy. I just liked his answers. They weren't standard "How are you?" "Good, thanks." answers. They had thought behind them. Which is more than I can say for my questions, and as a result I put a little more thought into my interactions during the day.

2. At about 11:30 this morning I confronted a shoplifter who was trying to steal some blu-ray DVD's, and when I told him that he needed to give me the DVD's back, he said, "ARE YOU ACCUSING ME? ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF STEALING? CAUSE IF YOU ARE I WILL FLATTEN YOU!" And then I said, "Yes. Yes, I am accusing you, and I need you to give me those DVD's back. And I was very genuinely scared, because this was a big guy, about 6'3", muscular, 220 lbs, and an asshole. And a thief. So I was scared, and he tried leaving so I followed him out of the store and then down the street, and I asked him where we were walking to, and he said, "Someplace quiet so I can kick your ass." And I said, "Oh, OK," and kept following him. And I don't really know why I kept following him, because I really seriously thought that he was going to at least punch me in the face. And I was still scared. But for some reason (and I will interject here [in admittedly stolen DFW fashion] that a weird reason that I kept following him had something unexplainable and very much in the back of my mind to do with how my head has been screwed up over DFW's suicide, and getting my ass kicked really didn't sound all that bad at 11:30 this morning) I kept following him and trying to annoy him by asking his name and making stupid small talk, making him painfully aware that I would follow him wherever he decided to go. And after a little bit of that, he eventually took the DVD's out of his cargo pocket and threw them over his shoulder, and I got them and went back to the store. And for the first time in a very very long time, I felt brave. And I felt good.

I have two days off starting tomorrow, and I'm hoping to get some laundry done, but other than that I don't know how to spend my time. Cleaning? Working on music? Running?

or E) All of the above?

More DFW

Haven't really known what to write. This DFW thing has messed with my head a little more than it probably should. Work for the past few days has been incredibly slow, so I've had about 6 hours a day to do nothing but stand around and think about it, and feel bad, and wonder, and be scared, and sad. I think that it's a pretty ludicrous reaction to the death of somebody you never knew, and I'm embarrassed to be writing it, but there it is.

I watched this yesterday, and it didn't help at all, but I'm glad I watched it. It's long, and it's from over a decade ago so there's a distance there, but I like it.



"What the really great artists do is: they're entirely themselves. They're entirely themselves, they've got their own vision, their own way of fracturing reality, and that if it's authentic and true you will feel it in your nerve endings." (27:08)

That's the last I'm gonna write about him, for now.

R.I.P. DFW

I just read that David Foster Wallace was found dead in his home on Friday night. Jesus fucking christ.

Let's Get Physics-cal!

Well, it's been over a week since I've written, but Jebus Christ, nobody else has been writing, either, so I don't wanna hear it. Thanks to OAA, who I can always count on to save my daily shit-checking regimen from being a complete wash.

Here's what's been happening:

1. Working with the J-Dog on her Physics. It's harder than I remember it being. It's really been a long time since I've had to do any math harder than say, well, addition. But we seem to be making progress.

2. I ran six miles the other day. And I've been telling Jeannie about it every day since. Pray for her.

3. My parents are coming out for a visit at the end of the month. We're going to drive to New Jersey and stay here. Hopefully it will turn out to be as enjoyable as their visit last year.

4. Jeannie found my toenails. And she was, as predicted, grossed out. And seemed a little pissed, despite the fact that she already knew, from reading this blog, that they were hidden somewhere. Sheesh!

5. There seem to be rotting tomatoes everywhere in our apartment.

6. The first stage of my secret project is done.

7. Work has been b o r i n g. But the holidays are looming with their dark, evil loominess.

8. J-Dog and I may go on a date tonight! Maybe dinner, maybe see the new Coen Bros. flick.

9. Gonna go give myself a haircut.

Alone

I'm spending the evening by myself tonight, as the Jeanners has a late night with her Physics class and then lab. So she won't be getting home 'til around 11 or so. A long day for her. So I'm sitting here, and I just finished a couple of veggie burgers for dinner, and I went for a run earlier, and now I'm a little bored. So I'm listening to Bill Evans' cd Alone and trying to find some inspiration somewhere. Inspiration for what, I'm not exactly sure. Just something to put a little bit of my energy (or what's left of it) into.

Lordy, Lordy, tonight I've decided that I really, really hate politics. I think it brings out the worst in people. And I think that I hate politics because at heart I prefer inaction to action. C'est la vie.

I've been reading a Kerouac book lately that I first read a long time ago and didn't like. Visions of Cody. When I first read it, it was pretty easy to dismiss as gibberish, but now I'm finding it to be really good. I think the key is that it's not meant to be read like a normal novel, it's meant to be read in a series of short (usually, luckily for me, bathroom-length) bursts. It doesn't really have much of a plot, it's more just a series of impressions. But they're very detailed, very richly described and perfectly written impressions. But then again, maybe I just haven't gotten to the part that sucks yet. I think it's gonna take me a long time to finish (hopefully I won't be bitching the whole way a la "Mason and Dixon"), and I might give up midway through, but I'm enjoying it for now. The original unedited scroll of On the Road recently was published in paperback and I'm interested in getting that...

Korn's last day at the B&N was Tuesday. She's headed off to Jersey to have a real life. I'm happy for her, and glad that she's taking steps in the right direction (away from the B&N), but I will miss her at work. The one rule of B&N: everybody leaves. Anyway, we had a good little gathering at the Rec Room where I had one goddamned tasty muthafuckin', juice-drippin' burger and kept my beer drinking under control so I didn't make an ass out of myself. Or at least no more of an ass than I usually am. I did drink a lot of Sprite though. Sprite is good!

Earlier this evening a good portion of our apartment smelled like Vicks Vap-O Rub. The smell seemed to be coming into the apartment from somewhere outside (?) (!!) I think it is one of the signs of impending apocalypse when your city starts smelling like Vicks.

This cd is not quite as moody as I thought it would be. But maybe I'm just not listening closely enough. It is pretty good, though.

Don't Let Me Into This Year With an Empty Heart

Jeannie and I got back last night from Caretaker Farm, which is in the northwestern corner of Massachusetts, outside a little town called Williamstown. We visited our friend Katie, who has been working as an intern on the farm since April, and will continue her internship until November, when she may return to Baltimore or continue farming.

I am not one to throw around superlatives lightly, and I am not really a touchy-feely, wishy-washy type guy, but I have to say that the place was really special and in a way, life-changing. I was really blown away by the friendliness, coolness, and quiet sense of pride and satisfaction that the small group of people who worked there seemed to have. And of course the place was beautiful.





We had planned on camping, but instead ended up staying in a common room for the 4 interns on the farm. It looked like this, and it was pretty cool:



The common room is built over the part of the barn where the pigs are kept, so at night while you're trying to sleep you can hear the pigs rustling around underneath you, as well as the mice scurrying around in the ceiling above you, and then in the morning the cows start mooing right outside the window once the interns start milking (also right below the common room).

It was a great trip, and wonderful to see Katie, who showed us around the beautiful area (the farm is located in the Berkshires), took us hiking, and introduced us to everybody and made us feel perfectly at home. The "visiting friends in interesting places for vacation" policy has once again proven itself to be a wonderful thing.



Last night on the way home Jeannie and I stopped at a cute little diner called the "Penn-Can" in, I believe, someplace called Birmingham, Pennsylvania. The place looked like someplace out of a Tom Waits song and served food that would have made the folks at Caretaker Farm wince -- all fried and greasy and guiltily delicious. It was a nice little truck stop type place.

Today the J-Dog and I spent a good part of the day studying physics for her class. Trying to get the basics mastered so the rest doesn't suck. I'm so glad I'm not in school anymore.

Into the Bush

Tomorrow morning J-Dog and I are leaving for our little end-of-the-summer mini-vacation, which will consist of us camping on a farm in Massachusetts. Please water our plants while we are gone.

While I was writing the title of this post, I was reminded of a dream I had the other night: In the dream, I was looking through a stack of old photos that my parents had from the 70's. It looked like my parents owned and operated a swanky nightclub in the 70's, because everybody was decked out in leisure suits and had big swanky collars and looked generally coked to the gills. And then as I was flipping through the stack of photos, I came across a picture of Ava Gabor's bush, and my mom said, "Oh, we'd better get rid of that one." That was my dream.

Over this past weekend, I must have been attacked by a swarm of some sort of industrial strength, mutant swamp mosquitoes, as I have about a hundred bites on my legs that have been itching fer days.

Loose Ends

Many things have been happening and jumping:

1. The most wonderful and amazing thing is that PKP and T is gonna have a baby! Woo-Hoo! I am excited by this news.

2. I got stung by a bee!

3. I went to court about a week and a half ago cause I got subpoenaed for the shoplifter. I didn't really have to do anything because the shoplifter sort of plead guilty. But court was boring and interesting at the same time. It was interesting to listen to other people's cases. It was also interesting to watch the State's Attorney, the Public Defender, and the Judge, all of whom seemed to know their jobs very well. It was funny because everyone talked VERY FAST all the time.

4. Jeannie and I are going out of town this weekend on a super-secret semi-impromptu-but-not-really vacation. We're gonna camp. Theoretically. Unless I wuss out and decide I want to stay somewhere with a hot tub.

5. I guess the Schluetermetz' should be arrivin' in Oregon right about now? Or soon?

6. Korn is moving away. Which makes me sad. But I'm happy for her because I think her life will be more exciting and interesting once she moves.

7. I ran 4 miles the other day.

Goodbye O, Hello O!

Well, in a few days, the Schluetermetz' will be leaving Ohio. Truly the end of an era. Poor Ohio, which I have long held to be the suckiest state in The Union, now has no redeeming qualities. And although I definitely have great memories of hanging with the cool kids in Columbus and Bellefountaine, I am feeling surprisingly un-sentimental about their upcoming move. I really think that the good times haven't even started yet, that the West will treat them well, and they will enjoy it. And we will enjoy visiting them.

Still though, I'm always a little sentimental, especially at nighttime, so I've uploaded a few songs about Ohio and one about (I think) Oregon and the Northwest. Looking back and looking ahead. Although I will admit that the Too Much Joy song "Goodbye Ohio" has little to do with Ohio, except the title. But the Damien Jurado is pretty damned good...

I stink.

Goodnight!

Just About 80 Percent...

...of the cd's I've bought in the last year have been jazz cd's. Do I like jazz more than pop these days? Jury's still out...


...of the atmosphere at the B&N tonight was composed of my farts.


...of my dinner was my own chest (I hope) hair.


There's a little bit of a chill in the air tonight. It feels good. I can feel a little breeze blowing across the floor onto my bare feet.

The Jeanners signed up to go back to school today (I'm very proud of her, and I told her so), and yet she strangely didn't want to rent Rodney Dangerfield's 1986 laugh-fest Back To School to get her in the mood (which saddens and disappoints me).

My Big Day, or The Year of the Roach

Yesterday was an important day, for two reasons:

1. It was my 31st birthday.

2. I fucking finished Mason and Dixon. And this is what I have to say:

a) Fuck that book. Fuck it in its A S S.

b) Fuck Thomas Pynchon for writing that book.

c) And finally, and definitely not least importantly, fuck BJ Gailey for recommending that book. Fuck him with a big fat cock. Or at least 2 medium-sized cocks. (Together, not one at a time).

Had a good, low-key birthday. Worked in the morning, went to the gym, went to dinner at a place in Little Italy [where, when the waiter came to take our plates, a cockroach scurried out from either on or underneath my plate. Woo-Hoo!], and then watched an episode of The Tudors while lounging in bed. The Tudors is still bad and nowhere near as good as Rome but damned if we aren't a little bit sucked in.

Spent a good portion of the day working on music and the rest of it on the phone with Verizon trying to fix our internet connection after it mysteriously stopped working. Every time they kept trying to transfer me to someone else, so I eventually hung up and somehow got the thing working myself. Or rather, it started working despite my efforts to screw it up even further.

Thanks for all the Facebook birthday wishes! Sorry for all the bad language!

Not Tired

It's starting to get late but I'm not tired. I mixed myself a big G&T when I got home from work this evening, and I'm still working on it. I've been reading through some old blog posts and realizing how glad I am that I've been keeping this here bloggy-blog. I don't look back at old posts too often, but when I do there's usually something back there that I don't remember writing that makes me smile.

I've been missing folks a lot lately. I listened to some Emmylou Harris at work the other night ("Sweet Old World"), and it made me miss Seanyboy. What it really made me do was look forward to one day having the songwriting visit that we talked about when I was visiting Alaska. We decided then that our next visit would be a songwriting visit rather than a recording visit. So I'm looking forward to that.

And I've been missing the Beej because he's leaving his podcast, and I feel like I haven't seen him in awhile, and I don't know when I'll see him next. Whenever I'm at work and I have nothing to do, I often feel the desire to call him up and shoot the shit. But I don't because A) Inevitably, as soon as I pick up the phone to call someone while I'm at work, 10 customers will walk into the department and I'll have to get off the phone and do my goddamn job, and B) BJ is a bitch and doesn't answer his phone.

And of course, the Schluetrmetz', cause they're moving and have some major changes coming up, and I wonder how our lives will intertwine in the future. Will we end up in the same place? Where is that place? What the fuck will we all be doing? I am beginning to realize that they have a profound effect on my phsyche: 1) I quit smoking after a visit to the Schluetermetz'. 2) I quit eating like a piggy after a visit to the Schluetermetz'. 3) I feel rejuvenated and creative after a visit with the Schluetermetz', and am somehow able to come home and start working on songs again.

Somehow they help me transition out of any ruts I might be traveling in...

(I have just hidden some toenail clippings somewhere in our living room for Jeannie or myself to find at some point in the future and be entirely grossed out. And now I've probably grossed you out, too. Sorry. But it seems like a fun game? No?)

And today I was playing on the guitar that Rich made for me, and I can't pick the damn thing up without wondering how he's doing, and I hope he's doing well. I hope that he gets a chance to come out and visit at some point this year. That reminds me, I need to send uncle Rico an e-mail and ask his advice...Rico is one of a kind.

And jeez, I've been missing people who live right down the damned road. I haven't really seen Pat all summer, haven't seen anybody from CSC, haven't hung out with A-Train. I think there's something inside me that hibernates during the summertime, and I don't know why, exactly. And I really hope that it is just during the summer, and that I'm able to come out of it during the fall, and get off my ass, and make the effort to go see people when I can.

I was listening to some of my songs on the way to work today, and I decided that my favorite line that's in any of them is a pretty simple one: "When will I see you again?"

So, when will I see you again?

Alright, I should go attempt some sleep. Eye doctor appointment tomorrow!

SMARTIES! Part Deux

Seriously, I think I have given myself diabetes with the number of SMARTIES that I have eaten in the last two days. When I was finished tonight at work, I had filled about half of a standard-sized office waste can with discarded SMARTIES wrappers. But dammit if they didn't make the night better.

I'm gonna go ahead and post the rough draft of this song I'm workin' on. The vocals are pretty much just gibberish I was singing so that I will remember a possible melody when I actually try to come up with real words. I think it's a good start, definitely similar to 'The Ring' but maybe different enough...we'll see what happens with it.

Do you want some golden fried jumbo shrimp? Or is it just me?

SMARTIES!

Had a good, productive day yesterday. Went to the gym, did some laundry, baked some cookies, made some dinner, and worked on some music that could turn into a pretty decent song. Now I just have to come up with a decent song. But I like the music, because the things that were "accidents" ended up being the most interesting things, and that's always fun.

Listened to BJ's last podcast today, and it made me kinda sad. I will miss my semi-weekly dose of the Beej.

Tonight work was so god-damned boring that I seriously wanted to kill myself. Then I ate about 15 rolls of SMARTIES and it got a whole lot better.

I am currently stuffing my face with some delicious popped corn and some even more delicious beer.

When I typed "popped corn" just now, I first accidentally typed "pooped corn." How silly. It won't be pooped corn 'til I eat it tomorrow night...

There Will Be Transvestite Shoplifters

I just finished watching There Will Be Blood. I liked it. Daniel Day Lewis is pretty awesome. The whole time I was watching the movie, I was picturing PKP in the Daniel Plainview role, though. I think Pat probably would have done just as good a job.

Went to the beach on Sunday. Hung out with folks from B&N down there. It was a good time, pretty laid back, relaxing. Nothing too outrageous. I got a little bit of a sunburn. I was pretty good about using the ol' sunscreen, though. But I guess I should have put some on my titties, cause that's where I got burned.

I got subpoenaed the other day. Turns out that I have to go be a witness 'gainst the shoplifter that I chased down at the B&N. Anyway, it'll be my first time in court. I hope Harry Anderson is the judge.

The Jeanners and I have been watching the epic western miniseries Lonesome Dove. One of my favorites. We just finished it the other night, and both had ourselves a good cry. If you've never seen it, for the love of Jebus, do yourself a favor and rent the sumbitch.

Thanks a lot, Kneser.

This has been in my head (and Jeannie's, too) for several days.



From Knese's Emergency Pudding.

Download That Shizzit!

NPR is streaming (and you can download it, too) a full Tom Waits concert (2.5 hours!) from Atlanta. Score! Get it HERE.

I have to say, I preferred his setlist in Columbus. In fact, I have yet to read a setlist on the tour that I liked more than the show he played in Ohio, mostly because of the inclusion of "Cold, Cold Ground" and "Time."

Not much else to report.

The Jeanners and I might be taking a semi-impromptu trip to the beach this Sunday. Which should be enjoyable because Korn and John and maybe Brian G. will also be down there.

Got the day off tomorrow. I think I shall bike to the gym, eat some eggs and black beans, and maybe work on music. Maybe not. I farted around on some music today, with not-very-good results, but may have turned up something that I want to go back and revisit later.

Oh, Shenandoah

Today the Jeanners and I went on a float trip on the Shenandoah River with people from her job. I have discovered over the past few days that apparently people here don't use the term "float trip" and have no idea what the hell it is. So, if you don't know, read the sentence after the following sentence. If you do know, you don't have to read it. A "float trip" is when you float down a river in some sort of boat (in this case, a canoe) or other floating device, such as a large inner tube. It might, perhaps, be necessary to note that a float trip should not be attempted with any sort of smaller inner tube, such as a bicycle inner tube. It just won't work. Unless you are an infant (or just infant-sized) and have the inner tube wrapped around you like two or three times. Which might hinder your enjoyment of said float trip.

One day I might want to look back on this day fondly, so for the benefit of my rapidly failing memory I will list the people who went on the float trip: Matt, Kedri, Rodney, Ian, Nancy, Melissa, Eugene, Miriam, and me and J-Dog.

For each of the past 2 days I have held a shit for longer than 8 hours.

Confidential to E. Elz regarding unicycles: When I was a kid, there was another kid who was a few years older than me (I think his name was Mike) who used to unicyle around the neighborhood. The kid was kinda weird, and he looked just like a platinum-blonde version of the kid from the "Rothsdower" MST3K movie.

Today we paid $3.74 for gas. I felt like it was 1982.

Drunk Bike Ride

I came home today from JT's going away party on my bike, and I was a little bit buzzed. And then, when I got close to home, it started raining real hard. It was pretty fun.

The last (and only other?) time I went drunk bike riding was with Sean back in Kirksville. I think we were just riding around Kirksville on some bikes of unknown origin ("borrowed"?) after having been at the Dukum for awhile. I think we ended up at the Schluetermetz' place.

Speaking of the Schluetermetz', Brad posted this video today which made me miss my friends. Also been thinking a bunch about (and missing) the Beej. Especially after having had a delicious burger at the Rec Room.

Summa-time

Not too much happening. Biking, running, going to the gym, hanging out, sweating. I biked to work a few days this week, which has been good, and will save on the ol' gas. I also got asked for money by a panhandler while I was speeding by him. That's a first.

It's been hot.

Last night I had a dream that I gave Matt Davis (from Truman) a backhand slap across the face because he was bothering me.

Wow, I just paused midpost to go take a poop!

A few days ago I downloaded a trial version of some Auto-Tune software so I can make my voice sound like T-Pain.

Hmmm. That's really about it. Today I'm going to a going away party for somebody at work and I'm gonna eat a delicious Rec Room burger and drink some beer.

You fools!

The last post was just a test. Now I know which of my friends are quitting pansies (PKP, RR, JS, EE), and which are tough like me (way to go, JK!). I'm gonna finish that goddamn book! And what's more, I'm gonna finish it by tomorrow night!






























Ok, I've thought it over, and that last part probably won't happen.

Decision Time

I am on page 599 of Mason and Dixon, but I haven't picked the book up in several weeks. I have 174 pages left to go. I took a break and read a Tom Waits biography, and then we went on vacation (and I brought the book but never opened it up), and then I just read Slaughterhouse Five because BJ's review of it on his podcast was so damned good. So now I am faced with the prospect of going back to M&D, which I really don't feel like doing, but I also don't feel like throwing away several months of my life only to NOT finish the book. What do I do?

In other news, the J-Dog and I biked to the garden the other night, and it was a good time. But then she took a spill on the way home. She's ok, but she's scraped up a bit. It was pretty scary.

I biked to the gym yesterday, which turned out to be a surprisingly simple ride, but hilly. And, because the gym is right next door to the B&N, I now know that I could bike to work, which is a nice option.

Time to go poo!

Finally

1. Finally done with 'the ring.' Seriously. I've checked the mix on every possible listening device that I have available to me. Done. Moving on...

2. Finally clocked in at under 180 lbs. today. For the first time in probably about 12 years or so.

3. Finally ran over 3 miles. For the first time in like, ever.

4. Finally got the bike (that we brought back from the Lou for me) up and running.

5. Finally (Saturday in the shower) decided on my two favorite words in the english language: ocean and raining.

Xtreme Bass

After listening in the car to the song I posted yesterday, I discovered that some of the low bass at the end is a little out of control. I'll have to fix that.