Saturday, April 30, 2005

Dennys Is Evil

It's almost as if they know me. It's almost as if someone from their chain has a microchip implanted in my brain and is transmitting my thoughts to their marketing division. Denny's has come up with not one, but 2 new breakfast concoctions that are a dream come true. The first is basically scrambled eggs with bacon, ham, sausage, and cheese and covered with sausage gravy. The second is hashbrowns in a bowl covered with all of the above. Why must they torture me so? I'm a carnivore to the bone and this basically designed to draw me into a Denny's and clog my arteries. Damn you Dennys!!!!

On another less damnig note, I came across this website which is hilarious. They didn't give the Der great reviews, but I still love the Der when I'm home on vacation. This guy did a whole review of the Der. Hell, The Descendents even wrote a song about the Der. Enough food talk or I'll end up at my local ER with gravy clogging my heart ........

Sports, Sports .. My Kingdom For Sports ....

This is that tough time of year between the end of the NCAA March Madness and Preseason Football. In any other year, hockey could keep me entertained since the NHL playoffs don't seem to end until June. In fact, last season was great because my team finally won the Stanley Cup after being the laughingstock of the league and even the subject of rumors of contraction. I got to see the Lightning play before they had their own arena. My ex-fiance's father had 4 season tickets, so we went to a ton of 1st season Lightning games out at the fairgrounds. I just couldn't believe that my team had finally won the big one (sorry Trixie; I'm always pulling for Da' Leafs as well).

The 'Bulin Wall

Da Cup Baby!!
It was a great way to wait until the start of football. However, this summer will be different. No hockey and well, let's face it, the NBA is a little dull these days. It's strange that since Jordan retired, we all seem a little less interested in basketball. Of course, March Madness pulls us in like our lives depended on it, but the NBA just doesn't have it anymore.

What has happened to the NBA? Remember when Jordan was playing? Oh my god, everyone and I mean everyone was glued to their TV's watching the Bulls pull another series out. Unless there is a brawl a la the Pistons and Pacers, no one really cares. Oh sure, there are still some awesome players like Duncan, Garnett, Kidd, and even Shaq. But the NBA lacks the drawing power it once had. I wish I had an explanation for the downfall, I really do. I'd like to know, contact the NBA, and have them fix it. I still love the Spurs but if they're not in the Finals and I don't happen to be watching TV at the time .... chances are I won't catch the game.

But there are reminders of whats to come in the fall in the spring. The NFL draft comes and goes in April. The NFL draft is the cocktease of sports; it's just enough to give you a taste of the football season coming up, but it won't satisfy you no matter the situation. So I'll just catch a few baseball games (pro and minor league) and just bide my time 'til preseason.

Friday, April 29, 2005

Republicans Suck Ass!!!

The Texas Legislature has decided not to name a highway after Willie Nelson. Why? Because the highway runs through two state congressional districts represented by ... guess who?? Two fucking lame ass Republicans. Congratulations there geniuses!!! Do you see why I hate them? Is there any doubt why there were number one on the Devil's enemy list?? This is Willie Nelson, not Nelson the band with the twin blonde brothers. This is Willie Nelson, not Willie from Alf. These two dumbfucks justify their actions by saying that it's because of Willie's past involvement with pot and IRS troubles when it's obvious they're doing it because he campaigned against Bush. Yet when it's time to name a highway for the Anti-Christ, they won't blink despite his DWI arrest, intentionally lying to the American people to start a war, bankrupting Social Security, and going AWOL in Vietnam. What's even funnier is that one of those two assholes, Wentworth, tried to justify it by saying that he is generally against naming roads after living people although the record shows he voted in favor of naming roads for the Anti-Christ's father, George Bush, and one for Nolan Ryan. Amazing the hypocrisy that comes from the GOP. So we won't name a highway for a man who we can say is a musical genius; a man who has received accolades from every institution that grants such distinctions including the Kennedy Center; a man who has written some of the greatest songs in history; a man who is a living national treasure. This won't happen because of 2 Republicans in the Texas legislature .... and yet the Republicans will squeal like the fucking pigs they are about Democrats filibustering in Congress? I'm just sickened to my stomach about this. Fellow Texan Kelly Clarkson will probably have a fucking road named after her before Willie does.

Keep smiling Willie ... they'll get theirs in the end.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

I've Got Enemies, You Know!!

I love how if you trace the progression of a conversation, you realize that the leaps in logic from the starting point to the end point make absolutely no sense whatsoever. For example, today we started talking about politics and the name of Richard "Tricky Dick" Nixon came out of left field. This naturally led to the discussion of Nixon's head on Futurama. Next, it became obvious that if you talk about Futurama, you must talk about Matt Groenig. If you talk about Matt Groenig, this will of lead you to start a talk about the Simpsons. This led to an episode where Barney founds Moe's enemies list that was actually Nixon's list with his name scratched out and Moe's scribbled across the top in this conversation

So naturally, the topic became enemy lists. We all started saying who would be on our enemies list when one of my co-workers piped up that she had a list going in high school and actually wrote it down. She stated it almost matter of factly "well, don't you have yours written down?" I was surprised because I guess I never reallh had a list of enemies and who would be on my list. I almost felt abnormal in the face of my co-worker's comments. Did anyone else have a list actually taken to pen and paper or am I in the norm on this?

In the age of partisan politics and unprecedented greed, it shouldn't be too hard to come up with a list. My enemies list might be more along the lines of institutions rather than individuals.

Devil's Enemy No# 1: Right Wing Conservatives. These are the worst of all in my list. Look, everyone wants to protect their nation, children, and keep what they earn. However, fucking over the system to ensure that the wealth of a nation stays in the hands of a select few by invoking God and demonizing free thought is FUCKING WRONG!!!! Simply changing the wording of things doesn't make something morally justifiable (i.e. the inheritance tax is now called the "death tax" by the conservatives to make you think you're getting taxed at death; you don't get taxed, those who inherit the money and who will reap the benefits of it are taxed just like anyone else who received a large lump sum of money; the intent behind the inheritance tax was a small bit of wealth distribution to keep money out in the economny). Oh yeah, the Nazi's did this with using gentle euphemisms to describe the extermination of the Jewish people.
Devi'ls Enemy No#2: Evangelical Christians. These are a close 2nd and go hand in hand with right wing conservatives. I love how these braindead fucks find persecution in everything. Simply because you can't have your children persecute non-Christians and monopolize our public schools with your beliefs doesn't mean you're a victim. See, what these braindead fucks forget is that little clause in the 1st Amendment that prohibits states from endorsing religion. Ooopps, they seem to have forgotten that the first fucking reason this nation was founded was to escape religious tyranny. How ironic that they actually think they're being persecuted now. And now they're calling for the recall of federal judges for one simple reason: they don't like their decisions. YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!!!! If we recalled a judge everytime we didn't like a decision, no one would be a judge because somebody would be upset; after all, there is always 2 sides in a case, you braindead sheep. Maybe these folks are more hated than the right wingers .... hhhhmmm. Enemies No#1 and No#2 are why I'm seriously considering a move to Europe.
Devil Enemy No# 3: Mini-van drivers. This filthy breed is actually procreating at an alarming rate. They're stupid, horrible drivers who only exist to hold up traffic. They drive up and down main thoroughfares as if looking for an address constantly. Now, they've slowly began the migration to SUV's which is frightening because they're bad enough drivers now. Imagine how much worse it will be when the slovely suburban housewife with the Bush sticker in her back window is driving a Blazer. They could actually make 4 wheel drive uncool.
Devil Enemy No#4. Trashy people. I grew up in a working class, blue-collar family. What we lacked in material goods, we were given double in manners and work ethic. Just because you've never been anywhere doesn't mean you should act like it. You don' act trashy, loud, and obnoxious to call attention to yourself. Wearing 14 ct. gold jewelry doesn't give the illusion of wealth. Just because you get your nails done once a week doesn't mean you've got class. Wearing "name-brand" clothes with the name of the designer splashed across the front in huge fonts doesn't make anyone think you've got good taste. If you want to impress people, use some fucking manners and watch your language. People can tell more about you by how you speak and the words you use much more so than your outward appearances.
Devil Enemy No#5. Self-Important People. Let me give you an example of this. Say you're in line someplace and you're near the front. Then a second line opens up with the employee either looking you directly in the eye or saying something like can I help the next person in line. Then out of nowhere this guy jumps to the register and starts ordering. Or even better yet, you're at the front of the line and as you start your order, self-important guy or girl makes a beeline toward the front and begins his order without so much as a glance back. They should have bricks handed out anytime you get into a line so that if one of these fucks does this, you can just slam him/her on the skull.
Devil Enemy No#6. One Upper Guy/Girl. We all know this person, in fact, we may be this person and not realize it. ML was this person and I have friends who did this in law school. No matter what you're doing or have done, this person has done one better. For instance, I'd relate a story about how in college, there were 2 girls getting drunk and naked dancing with one another at a party. This person will have the same sort of story but it was 3 girls. When you tell a story, the very next line out of this person's mouth will start with "That's nothing.." or "Yeah, well, this one time ...". I knew one guy like this in college at the fraternity, so we would intentionally lie to see how far he would push it. Terrible bastard, aren't I?
Devil Enemy No#7. New York Yankees / Los Angeles Lakers / Dallas Cowboys / Brigham Young University. For various reasons, I will watch a game involving these teams only to pull for the other teams. My dad used to have a bumper sticker on his work truck that said "My team is any team that beats the Cowboys." I guess that sort of streak runs in my veins still ... heh-heh.
Devil Enemy No#8. Boy Bands or Britney Spears-type music fans. Music is not manufactured; it is to be the product of creativity and love. When record companies intentionally set out to find a group of people to fit their mold, it's about image, not music. 99% of these "bands" or "groups" don't play their own instruments or write their own music, so it's not music. Now, some vocalists didn't write all of their own music. I'm sure Etta James didn't write her own music. However, with her, it's about her voice and how she sings, not her image. By the way, Etta is fucking awesome. Plus, you don't "elect" an idol; you let him earn that moniker on his own merit.
Devil Enemy No#9. Racists. 'Nuff said here. This one is too easy.
Devil Enemy No#10. People Who Don't Like Reggae, Ska, old Motown, or Spanish Music. I don't so much hate these people as I can't figure out how these genres of music don't move you or make you happy. I've always maintained it is impossible to any of these genres of music and be in a bad mood. I'ts impossible; this music makes me want to move.
Devil Enemy No#11. Inappropriate Laughing Guy. This guy always sits behind me at the movies. He always laughs this really loud laugh at the most mundane attempts at humor in the movie. He that sort of guffaw laugh and he's almost always coupled with "What did he say" girl.
Devil Enemy No#12. Boring guy/girl. I work with some of these people (not you JHD). These are the people who are tired by 10 when you do manage to drag them out. They will sit around the table and simply stare with a comment here and there. These are the people who need to get wild and lose control more than anyone else!!!

Well, I'll revise this list as people make me mad or make the list. That's all for now. The Devil needs his rest despite the old saying "No rest for the wicked" ... that's a load!!!

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

The Costanza School Of Stalking

Once again, Trixie has brought joy into my life in the form of the ultimate diversion at work: stalker software. This brought many squeals of delight and looks of disdain from my fellow co-workers. Most found it amusing and immediately began looking up their ex's while some found it to be disturbing that one can find their address and a satellite photo of their house.

Now of course, most of the people who are disturbed are not stalkworthy. For the most part, I don't think middle aged guys with a mini-van and 3 kids are likely victims of stalkers. There probably aren't many 21 y.o. Britney Spears wannabe look-alikes standing by the back patio murmurring to themselves, "I'm gonna make you mine, you pot-bellied stallion." No, for the most part, most of us in general are not stalkworthy (and no, I'm not a married guy nor do I have kids).

Now I do realize that being stalked is a very scary thing. I've had female friends who've been stalked and it's terrifying. However, what I don't understand is the mindset of the stalker. What would make you give up all of your free time or otherwise just time to stalk someone? Is following this person going to make her suddenly realize, "Oh my God, although you've followed me around for months, I didn't realize until now I love you."?

Me personally, I'm too lazy. I'll be the first to say it. I'd subscribe to the George Costanza School of Thought when it comes to stalking. I'd get bored and probably leave after 10 minutes. If it's cold outside, you can completely forget it. My idea of stalking might be looking out the window and saying,"Hhhmm .. about 2 inches of snow out there. I think if I concentrate real hard I might be able to stalk by transcendental meditation ... Yeah, it's too cold to go out. Maybe there's a movie on .... ". And no offense to any of you my friends, but who would I stalk? If anyone is reading this at home, they've got just as exciting a life as I do which isn't saying much. Heaven help if someone decided to stalk me. It would be just as exciting as watching paint dry. Let me give you a rundown of what my hypothetical stalker might see:
10:00 PM: Devil sitting on the couch.
10:01 PM: Devil lays on the couch.
10:05 PM: Devil sits up on the couch.
10:07 PM: Devils goes into kitchen and has a snack over the kitchen sink so that he doesn't dirty anything.
10:08 PM: Devil goes back to the couch.
10:15 PM: Devil scratches his (substitute body part here as you please).
10:27 PM: Devil plays the all-time favorite bachelor game "Find The Smell".
10:34 PM: Devil determines smell and can't believe that just eating something would produce that sort of emination.
10:40 PM: Devil checks email.
10:41 PM: Devil realizes no one has emailed him in days.
10:42 PM: Devil assumes lounging position on couch.
10:43 PM: Devil debates between pizza or Chinese.

My stalker would be bored to tears. She'd have to break my window to liven things up. I'd probably obsess whether I'm acting the part of stalking victim correctly and seek to make amends in any way possible. I'd probably do things that would completely kill the spirit of the stalking. I'd go outside to talk with my stalker and it might go like something like this ....
Devil: So ... uh, did you get the sandwiches I left out here?
Stalker: Yeah, thanks for that; I mean, you didn't have to go through all that trouble. After all, I'm stalking you.
Devil: Oh no trouble at all. Think nothing of it. Just wanna make sure you're taken care of here. You could starve just sitting out here.
Stalker: Yeah, about that ... see, well, the truth is .. I don't think this whole stalking thing is gonna work out. It's not you, it's me.
Devil: What?... I mean, what did I do wrong? Is it something I did, because if that's it, I won't do it again.
Stalker: It's nothing you did; it's just that ... well, to be honest, your life is a little ... slow. Devil: Well .. it has been lately; but I'm expecting things to pick up. You never know .. exicitement could be just around the corner!
Stalker: Right ... well, look, I'm gonna go now. Really, it was nice stalking you and all and you seem like a nice guy, ok? Good luck.
Devil: Are you sure? I mean, my mom might call at any minute, errr....., I mean some hottie might be calling and trying to steal me away. I'm quite the catch you know.
Stalker: Yeah well thanks but no thanks, ok? And I did want to thank you for the blanket and the thermos ... the hot cocoa was great.

See, I'm not stalkworthy and I'm certainly never going to be a stalker. It's too much work and I've got way too much complaining to do. If I was out stalking or trying to create meaningful relationships or meeting women by trying to convince them I'm a marine biologist, I wouldn't have time to blog. And we can't have that, can we???

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Indie Rock And The Relationship Addicted Friend

So my friend SS calls tonight. She lives in another midwestern town, one that I happen to think is actually pretty damn cool in its own sort of crazy way. She's asking me to go visit because she's getting ready to end another relationship and wants someone to keep her company when she is going through her nosedive. You see, SS is a relationship addict. Some of us are addicted to porn, some to sex, some to diet Coke. SS is addicted to being in a relationship. She cannot stand to be without a b/f .... ever. She will date constantly going on a date or two a week with different guys. Now the current guy, we'll call Steve. Steve is not her b/f despite her justifications about his behavior. What I'm going to outline are some surefire signs this guy isn't her b/f:

1. Steve only sees her when it's convenient for him. He always makes it a point to let her know that he's going out with his friends during the week, almost as if bragging. And while he does go out with her, it's on Saturday night through Sunday morning. Sounds nice that he has a plan and sticks to it, but he can't be bothered to visit her during the week.
2. Second, this guy hasn't introduced her to his friends. I don't care about any other justification, this is one of the big ones. Why wouldn't he introduce her to his friends? Well, because he's always going out with "Jennifer" or "Heather" or some other female that is "an old friend" from the past. And why not introduce her to his guy friends? Becase as men, we're fucking idiots and probably one drunken night, his guy friends might say something without thinking ... something like "So, are you still tapping that one chick?"
3. This guy has on several occassions referred to her as a "friend". Nothing wrong with your g/f or b/f being your best friend, but let's face it ... that is the ideal. Most of us know that in order to maintain a healthy relationship, it's necessary to nurture those friendships outside of our significant others. Also, I have never dated a girl I liked alot and made it a point on several occassions to note that she is a "friend". If a guy likes you, he'll let you know it and he'll be careful with his words about the "friend" thing.
4. During the week, Steve can't be bothered to give her a call. He's always too busy or he's going out with those old friends. SS actually considers him her b/f and just ends up getting hurt when he doesn't return her calls on weeknights; in fact, he's gotten downright angry with her calling during the week. I've teased her saying, "Well, did you tell him that you needed to get laid?" and she'll tell me, "Yeah, but he still didn't return my calls." I don't know that I've ever seen a guy turn down sex as much as Steve has.
5. He's told her several times that he is moving, but he doesn't know when. To where and when, he's not sure. SS is always stressed because he goes on these trips out of town to "look for other jobs" and the like. She's always afraid this is the time he decides to move for good.

Then there is the sex issue. SS and Steve are having sex on a regular basis, i.e. on their weekend "dates". Again, the problem is, he can't be bothered to see her during the week. On Sunday evenings, SS will call and tell me how great a time they had, but then by Tuesday, she's miserable because she hasn't heard from Steve. She will moan that she feels cheap and that Steve is using her for sex. But then by Thursday night, she's raving about getting to see him on Saturday. So, I'll probably take a weekend flight sometime soon to visit SS, let her drown her sorrows as I play designated driver. But hey, that is what friends are for!

On a happier note, apperently my taste in music is decent!!

Also, I'm quite the 80's geek ...

Monday, April 25, 2005

Return Of The Geeks And Triumph

I loved Star Wars as a kid. I wanted to grow up to be Han Solo. You know, the cocky, wisecracking sort of guy that the ladies fall in love with. I remember vividly seeing the original Star Wars in the theater back in this small New Mexico town. I remember there being a line, which was unheard of in that small town. Mom dropped me off with a friend and we stood in line. I felt like such an adult because my mom dropped us off. Of course, she was across the street waiting in the car to make sure we got in. Nonetheless, adulthood at that moment seemed pretty damn cool. For the next few hours, I was completely blown away. I remember walking out of there with my friend just babbling about the movie over and over. For the next few years, I was still babbling about the movie.

Then you get older and you discover girls. You discover football. You discover other things that get you up and out of the house. You discover the guitar. You discover something that doesn't relegate you to living in your mom's basement 'til you're 40. Well, nearly all of us did .... except for these folks. Maybe someone should set these poor folks straight ... oh wait, Triumph The Insult Comic Dog did. The clip is fucking hilarious!!!!

So please, if you're going to see the new Star Wars on opening day, at least get into the right line unless those guys who started camping out earlier this month. Enjoy the clip; I promise it'll make you laugh (especially since it's not even hump day; we all need a good laugh!!).

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Cheatin' Hush Puppie Love

Last night, I was catching an episode of my fave guilty pleasure,Cheaters. The format of the show is that they interview the person who contacted the show and then proceed to the video clips showing the infidelity in action. After this, they'll show the person being cheated on reviewing the footage and then the confrontation, which is what we all want to see.

Now, this past Sunday night, the interview was with a lady ("cheated") talking about her fiance ("cheater"). She's telling this story about how great things were with her fiance and how he actually proposed. You're going to think I'm the biggest snob in the world for laughing at this. But when she told the story, I was half asleep on the couch drifting into oblivion. Apparently, he took her to dinner at a classy establishment, namely Red Lobster. Nothing wrong with the Lobster if you want some seafood and don't want to shell out some big bucks. However, I hardly consider this a romantic location. Anyways, the cheated is relating that she went to bite into a hush puppy and nearly cracked her tooth on something hard. It was her engagement ring!! I nearly choked on my tongue laughing at this.

First of all, not much needs to be said about the setting. Hardly romantic; much like proposing at a Denny's or Waffle House. In addition to the overall hilarity of the situation, my analytical mind was thinking, "How did he convince them to place the ring into the batter?" ... "Wouldn't it burn her mouth since the metal conducts heat?" ... "Wouldn't the ring be full of grease?" Oh, I'm so going to hell for laughing at that!!!

Saturday, April 23, 2005

One Step Closer Perhaps???

It's no big secret to any of my friends that at least half the time, I really hate my job. I don't just mean hate in the descriptive sense; I mean hate in the sense that sometimes it permeates every ounce of my being. The company itself is great and I couldn't ask for better folks supervising me. I really couldn't ask for much more; but I really hate the job some days. Part of the problem is that I'm pretty good at what I do and that is a shame. But a company can't keep losing people and loading on the products and services that the remaining employees must support. And on top of that, the number of customers increases at a healthy rate. So with fewer people, more customers, and more products to support, it's easy to see how morale can plummet. I can't help but think how much better I would perform at a job I really loved.

I can honestly say I've had some decent jobs. I loved the work I did in the Army. I worked in military intelligence with imagery. I really liked my work; I just hated the bullshit and politics of the Army. I wrote up reports about what was going on in certain parts of the world that were disseminated to other agencies. It was like I was doing something really important. I enjoyed it so much so that I often stayed late to keep working despite the fact that my shift was over and the next group of analysts were already on the job. I'd just find some other project to work on and keep going. The other job I enjoyed was in the liquor store back in Albuquerque. Imagine being in a fraternity and getting paid some decent bucks to work at a liquor store. Sure, there were parts of it I didn't like. I hated when guys would send their girlfriends to get a keg of beer. Not only would I have to load it, but the girls would often want it on the back seat of a Cavalier or some other compact car. I would always think to myself, "How lazy a sack of shit is this guy that he's sending his g/f to pick up a keg for him and his buddies?" But, I got a great discount on my booze, a casual dress code, some decent money, and I was expected to sample the products (the philosophy was "How can you make an informed opinion about a beer or a liquor if you don't know what it tastes like?").

Which brings me to events on Friday. After another week of work, I got home and I received my package from the Teacher Training Agency in the UK. Yep, the Devil is looking at becoming a teacher in the UK. The package consisted of nothing more than some brochures. However, they've informed me of the next steps I need to take. Right now, it's just so distant of a plan that I'm not trying to get my hopes up. I would need to save some bucks to survive on and of course, there is the ever present visa problems. However, I'm sure I'd have no trouble getting situated with a school and beginning training. It seems crazy but I think I'd be so much happier working with kids and molding young minds. Life is just too short to be miserable for 40 hours a week.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Amos and Riding Horses

Reading Andre's post about breaking up with Coffee Shop Girl got me thinking about a time when I went through a tough break up and how wise the smallest bit of words can be. To understand this, I've got to give you a bit of background on my family. When I got old enough to see how terrible the world could be, I began to realize that I have one damn good family. Not the Walton's or Huxtables. No, my family wasn't that eloquent or that lovey dovey. But what they might lack in outward manifestations, they make up for with heart. Amos was an example of what my family is about.

Amos was an old man back in my hometown in Texas. Most of my mother's side lives in that weatherbeaten cowtown. As progress marched, modern ranching pretty much eliminated the need for the cowboy. Amos was one of those unfortunate souls. He had grown up in that town and got old there as well. He was at the point of just living his days out in a wheelchair; no family around; pretty much confined to his small house. My Uncle H worked for a glass company that did some work there at Amos' house. My Uncle H took it upon himself to keep checking in and eventually, Amos became a regular feature at my Aunt A's Mexican restaurant. My Aunt A's place was considered the family restaurant. On many an occassion, someone down on their luck or some illegal aliens might knock at the back door; looking for a meal when they had no money or looking for a few hours work to get a little further down the road. My family always did what they could to help out with a little money, some food, or some warm clothes.

At the restaurant, Amos would sit in the kitchen with my aunts and my grandmother drinking coffee and just listening to everyone talk. He'd throw in a bit here and there to keep conversations going. He'd regale us kids with stories about how the building used to be an old bar; how he'd washed dishes there as a kid; how sometimes cowboys would get drunk and shoot the place up (he showed us the bullet holes); and how he watched a man die one night in that place after he was shot. All of my younger cousins became attached to Amos and his face always lit up upon seeing the newest members of the family. He always wore his cowboy hat outside, but took it off as soon as he got through the back door of the restaurant. At Christmas, my family would have a dinner at the restaurant, exchange gifts, and Santa Claus (my Uncle G) would make an appearance for the kids. Amos was always there and the gifts everyone gave nearly made him cry. When he passed away, my family was there because they had truly lost a family member.

My ex fiance and I broke up twice (we got back together and I went to Korea when we broke up for good). The first breakup was during a temporary duty to Washington D.C.. I finished up 3 months in D.C. and immediately took leave back to my hometown. My time was spent with family just relaxing. I'd go down to the restaurant and my Aunts would spoil me rotten. I'd lend a hand doing whatever needed to be done to "work for my supper". My mother would always reintroduce me to Amos everytime. He'd just lean back in his wheelchair and tell my mother with a big ole grin, "I remember him. He's the boy in the service." Amos noticed that I wasn't my usual self and I explained to him what happened. He sat there a moment and finally said another one of those things that you don't forget in your life. It was a simple enough thing to say and it would later make sense in the larger context: "Son, some horses you just gotta let ride."

At the time, I didn't understand. After all, aren't you supposed to keep fighting for those you love? Isn't that the romantic notion? Why would you ever just "let a horse ride" and not try to keep it for yourself? Wasn't I different than those who had loved before and didn't I know what true love was? Experience is a bitch of a teacher. Eventually you learn that just because you fall in love with someone doesn't mean that you'll be together forerver. You learn that some things are worth fighting for, but sometimes you just gotta walk away and let things be. That's not to say that there are some people who aren't worth fighting for. Quite the opposite, everyone has inherent vaule and is worth fighting for. The only question is whether that person is whom you should be fighting for.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Where Do The Single People Go??

I've lived in this city devoid of civilization for nearly 2 years now. There are probably 4 or 5 universities situated within an hour of the city, and yet, there is no vibrant life here. I know a big part of that is I work a job that has me from noon to 9 PM and that shift isn't likely to change anytime soon. I was hoping that I might get bumped down to getting off at 8 by this summer, but the way things are progressing at work, I'll be lucky to get down to 8 PM by the end of the year. Now, the traditional convention about where to meet single people probably doesn't hold true in my case because of my work shift and my age (I'll be 35 next month ... eeewwwww).So far, here are some of the places I've tried to meet some single people and have failed miserably!!

1. Bars: Always seems like a winner, right? Wrong in this town. My experiences with bars in this town have not been the best. Apart from my last night out with the drunk, hand tatooed girl named "Tara" coming over to introduce herself, I see one of 2 creatures inhabiting the bars here. First, the ever present 21 to 23 year olds for whom the whole bar scene is new and exciting. While we all might wish we were 21 again and in the best shape of our lives, that time is well past me. I don't want to be drinking with inexperienced youth who haven't learned their booze limits yet. And the 2nd type of creature at the bar is the barfly. The older male/female, probably in their mid to late 40's. The woman still trying to dress like she's 26 who is there with her other bitter divorced friends. The guys cruising the bar, hitting on the 22 y.o. waitress who flirts with them to increase her tips, with their gold chains and bad clothes. No thanks, barland here is a glimpse into my future unless I get lucky soon!!!

2. The grocery store: Well, given the fact I'm not off of work until 9 PM, most single people have jobs with normal hours. They've finished shopping by the time I hit my local supermarket. After 9:30, the only people still shopping are single guys like myself; married guys out to pick up a few things; and shift workers who are almost never single women. "Aaaahhh Cincy, what about Saturday or Sundays?" you say ... well, Saturdays are terrible because no one is shopping at the grocery store on a Saturday. You want to be out doing things and enjoying your weekend. Sundays are a madhouse with families getting out of church or hitting the first day of the new weekly sales. Shopping, for me, is strictly out of necessity!

3. The bookstore / coffee shop: I've explored this avenue. Again, most coffeeshops here are only open til about 9 PM. Now, some bookstores are open until 11, but the only single people at the bookstore on a Saturday night are students who show up with textbooks. No one is really there socially.

4. Work: I've talked about this before. Remember, it's NEVER a good idea to get involved with someone you work with.

5. The gym: The gym I have a membership with is pretty dead in the mornings. I figure that most single people hit the gym after work. When I go in the mornings, the only people there are parents taking advantage of the free daycare while they work out or the elderly who have been up since the asscrack of dawn.

6. Take a class: I'm planning on doing this during the summer. I'm either going to take a drawing or a photography class on Saturdays. Watch out Walker Evans and Ansel Adams!

7. Internet Dating: I might do this during the summer as well. Right now to be honest, the profiles in my area are well ... not a good thing. There are far too many women in this area who will put either "NASCAR fan" or "Politics: Conservative" in their profile. And femullets are not attractive!!

So my friends, what do I do? I'm not sure where you've met your significant others or where you meet single people. I think my best option is to simply move to a place more amenable to singles.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

The Next Wave ... SKA!!!

I just read an article claiming that the next album by The Killers will feature 6 ska tracks. This is great news to me. I have always loved ska and reggae. I've already told how my mom would pull out her old Motown stuff for us to listen to while we cleaned house Saturday. Well, my mother had one of these old compilation albums. I remember distinctly putting it while cleaning one Saturday and I heard this great rhythm and voice. Desmond Dekker's "Israelites" and "My Precious World" grabbed and never let go. I would listen to that song from almost all the time until I wore out that side of the album!!

As I got older, ska began it's Second Wave. I heard Haircut 100 "Love Plus One". Wow; this was music that hit me deep and made me want to tap my toes and move my head with the rhythm. I kept thinking to myself, "How have I not heard this music before and where can I get more?" Then, it happened when I saw a music video. The English Beat "Save It For Later" captured me forever. I wanted to learn all I could about ska and reggae. All through my teen years, I listened to The English Beat, The Specials, and any other ska or reggae I could get my hands on in that podunk town I grew up in.

Enter college and after a bit of treading water there, I joined the Army. I met my ex-fiance who introduced me to the whole ska-punk movement. She kept raving about this band in this Converse ad. She finally convinced me to go to a show at this small venue in St. Petersburg, Florida. The band showed up in a van with a U-Haul at the back. What an amateur setup I thought; these guys don't even have a tourbus!! How good can they really be? The Mighty Mighty Bosstones blew me away; I couldn't get enough of this sound of punk/hard care mixed with ska. I spent the next few years decked out in plaid gear and a flatcap (until I heard Blink 182, of course).

I always like the idea behind the ska movement in the UK. The very colors and pattern
associated with ska
, the black and white checkerboard, shows a racial harmony unseen in most musical genres. In the 1970's UK, the black and white clothes of the ska movement were in stark contrast to the National Front, which is pretty much a racist group from all I've read or seen. UK bands of the time sought to bring some unity to a torn nation. Bands like Madness, the Specials (try "Message To You Rudy"), and the Selecter revitalized that early Jamaican ska sound that came across the pond in the early 1960's. Ska and reggae led to the development of punk, which is ironic considering that there are some racist punk bands who have conveniently overlooked this. I've been a fan of all 3 waves of ska (the 60's, the late 70's/early 80's, and the 90's. All I can say is that if ska is going to make a come back, it's about fucking time!!! The world needs some music that isn't manufactured by some conglomerate; music that doesn't sound like every "alt" rock band (i.e. Nickelback); and music that combines different genres, grooves, and styles into one amazing product.

Sunday, April 17, 2005


Lately my posting has been really infrequent and ridiculous. This always happens to us; whenever we get stressed out, we tend to retreat into ourselves and that sense of self loathing. I know once I get over this hump, I'll be back to my old self and post the most ridiculous stories once again.

Why do we do this? Why do we retreat into ourselves in times of stress? I've always wondered that. I guess it all depends on how you look at things. I'm trying to keep a positive spin on things right now and looking at this time as an opportunity. I believe if you look at a time like the one I'm going through right now as an opportunity to better yourself and your situation, it will make all the difference in the world. I'm trying that approach right now. I'm trying to keep in mind that once I get all of this shit straightened out, I'll be in a much better place than I've been in a while. I've just got this hump to get over.

Maybe then inspiration will return and kick me in the ass!!

Saturday, April 16, 2005

My Inner European Is .....

The always sexy and intelligent Trixie has posted another quiz. Apparently, my inner European is quite appropriate given my ethnic background .....

Your Inner European is Spanish!

Energetic and lively.
You bring the party with you!

Thursday, April 14, 2005

I'm Not A Chav?? .... Whew!! That's A Relief!!

Earth girl first clued me into this new phenom sweeping the UK, although I suspect it's probably been around a while. Here in the States, we might call these folks white trash, hoodrats, rednecks, or wannabes. It's those suburban kids acting tough at Starbucks or TCBY ("Yo bitch, I didn't ask for no whip cream on my frapucino, aight?"); driving Escalades with spinner rims, and monopolizing wife beaters. It appears that our friends in across the pond have devised a name for this menace to upstanding society: the Chav.

Yes, it appears that this sort of breed isn't restricted to George W. Bush supporters or inbred pockets of Appalachia in the States. Nope, it's a full-blown infestation. And from a comment about baseball caps, I was terrified I might be identified as being a chav should I decide to move to the UK. So I will use the guides to chavs to prove I'm not one:

1. Jewelry: Apparently, the chav is fond of all sorts of bling bling. Emulating Mr. T is a serious business with these guys. We have the same thing in the States. I always seem to come across some skinny guy in Wal-Mart with his pregnant g/f with enough cheap gold chains, rings, and earrings between the two of them to score about $100 at a pawn shop. I own 2 pieces of jewelry, a Fossil watch and my fraternity badge. Now the badge may appear a bit gaudy, but it's actually a pretty small. Plus, I don't think most people, let alone a chav, are willing to put up with a semester's worth of hazing, errr .... umm, I mean pledge educating, just to get to the honor of wearing one of these bad boys.

2. Sportswear: Now according to the website guide, the chav is quite fond of sportswear with a brand name emblazoned across the front. Well, like any red-blooded boy, I grew up with sports. I do have the requisite football jersey of my alma mater. I think the sports jersey may be the US equivalent of the chav sportswear choice. However, I can discount this because I think it highly doubtful that the kid with his cap turned sideways, wearing a Duke basketball jersey, cruising Kroger for a six of Mickey's Big Mouths, really attended Duke University. So I've got this one topped since I actually went to the school whose gear I'm sporting.

3. Shoes: Unlike the chav, I have several pairs of shoes ... and not all are sneakers. I have the requisite Sketchers, brown and black dress shoes, and hiking/work boots. Yes, I do have sneakers but they're running shoes and certainly not those bleached white Reebok classics.

4. Baseball caps: Here's where I might trip up. I do own several ballcaps. All have logos, but they're sports teams. I have the Arizona Diamnondbacks, Cincinnati Reds, Arizona State (I've actually got 2 or 3 different styles of this one), Army, and Univ. of Cincinnati caps. Of course, there aren't any Burberry caps and I only buy the faded worn in caps. I'm not trying to pull off that Fat Joe, no crease in the bill, new hat every week look.

5. Music: According to the website, chavs will listen to 3 types of music: 1. hip hop; 2. rap; 3. dance. Now, the occassional Dr. Dre, DMX, or Ludacris song may catch my fancy, but not quite often. I'm more of a Dave Matthews Band (try sampling "Ants Marching"), Jack Johnson (try sampling "Flake"), Blink 182, O.A.R. (try "Hey Girl" although "About Mr. Brown" is my fave), or Green Day kinda guy myself.

6. Movies: Now, I'm not a fan of Jet Li films, I don't think Vin Diesel is a great actor and I'm certianly not lining up ahead of time to see any movie with these guys in it. Sequels to most actions movies are no-no in my book (did we really need Too Fast, Too Furious??) and most horror movies bore me to tears. I doubt movies like Amelie, Cinema Paradiso, Il Postino, or any other indie film have a huge chav audience.

So, I think I might just be safe from the classification of being a chav, but then again, maybe declaring you're not a chav makes you one? ... Naw ....

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Oooohhhhhh ... It's Almost Here!!!!!

I know you're excited just like I am. These are some pics from the movie that just may bring world peace; feed the hungry; shelter the homeless; and ... well, damn; it's just gonna be fucking funny. Any movie with Knoxville and Seann William Scott will be the hit of the century. Of course I'm talking about the Dukes Of Hazzard movie.

Dude, that chick is totally checking me out ... She wants me, right?

I know what you're thinking ... "what a slut!" But for all we know she probably reads to the elderly on Sundays; delivers meals to the poor from her job at Hooters ... lol

Nickel beer night? Fuck yeah!!!

Act cool ... Just show him your tits and maybe he won't write us a ticket.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

I Am The Anti-Christ Of Drinking

It's official after Friday night. I have reclaimed my crown as the "Anti-Christ of Drinking". This dubious award was given to me in college. I have this uncanny ability to get people to drink ... and keep drinking. I somehow can persuade people to push it a little bit more than they should. Of course, announcing this will tip off some to be wary of me, but I just had to gloat that my title is back ... heh-heh.

In college, especially at the fraternity house, I could get a nun to break her vow of abstaining from alcohol. I don't know how I do it; but when the mood hits me, I can get people to booze it up. I've had friends and fraternity brothers get smashed on Friday night and swear off booze the next morning after 3 or 4 puking episodes. Somehow by 11 the next night, they'd be drinking again as if a cash prize would be awarded at the end of the night. I've heard many a friend and fraternity brother say "you're the devil man ..... I swore I wasn't going to drink tonight". Of course, the favor was always returned to me during the week when I tried to behave and keep a decent hour for classes the next morning.

However, Friday I was back to old form. One of the people on my team, LH, got a promotion. He has had a meteoric rise to his current position to say the least. There are people with nearly twice the tenure who would never get considered for promotion. Anyways, Friday started off as a pretty shitty day. I looked forward to a 5 hour training class for weeks only to have it cancelled once we had it started. Our customers at work on Friday were lazier than usual so I had to double my work load. Needless to say I needed some liquid relief even though I hadn't planned on going out that night.

So I meet up with the gang at this city's only choice for dining; in other words, a chain restaurant. We start with a couple of large beers and then decided to head to a small hole-in-wall bar where the fun started. It always starts innocently enough ... a few beers here and there. Then the Devil comes out with another beer ... then another. Next thing you know we've each downed like 8 beers to this point. Then the shots come, a Goldschlager, a Jagermeister, and to end it, the coup detat, Jose Cuervo. All that needs to be said is that LH was in Waffle House in a couple of hours, head on the booth table, praying that my scattered, smothered, covered, diced, chopped, and topped double hashbrowns don't gross him out too much.

But while we were at the hole in the wall bar, I got hit on by 2 different ladies. One was like 45 and was asking my boss, who is like a mother to me at work, if she could take me home. My boss teased her at first saying that it would cost her, to which she simply pulled out her credit card! The other girl was closer to my age and was sitting at a table behind our group with her best friend and a gaggle of like 5 guys that swarmed over every 3 minutes or every time she moved, whichever came first. At the end of the night, she came over to say that she was the one who played all the songs we liked (we were a hornery bunch that night .. singing and carrying on to the jukebox). She made the point of introducing herself unannounced and felt the need to hold my arm while she did so. The disheartening part was that she was taking off with some tool looking guy (probably her hook up for the night) and she had a huge tatoo of a star on the back of her hand. Now, I have nothing against tats, but please put them someplace discreet. Just knowing there is a tat someplace on your body to be found is hot; having it on the back of your hand so that everytime you pay for your Big Mac it's showing is definitely not hot.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

I Could Go For A Mess Of Squirrel And Toilet Ettiquette

My nemesis has made his rather unsavory reappearance. Yep, the infamous shitting cell-phone guy is back. My foray into the bathroom was made uncomfortable by this most unwholesome of creatures. He's in the corner stall ... the one allocated for the disabled. He's saying things like "Right, that's what I told him." and "Uh huh .... huh". I'm there at the urinal wondering to myself how is he doing this? The logistics of the whole thing have me baffled. Maybe he has one of those headsets. But then, where is he placing the phone itself? It's not as if there is a shelf in the toilet stall.

I've always had the strangest things happen in bathrooms. In the Army, it seemed to happen with alarming frequency. At my training school in Ft. Huachuca, Arizona, when you first arrive, you don't have leave to go into town. So for the first few weeks, you're pretty much confined to the post movie theater and bowling alley. There is a TV room in the barracks though, so you spend most of your Friday and Saturday nights in there. I never thought that a Friday or Saturday night in the bathroom would be so adventuresome. You'd walk in and see 2 sets of feet sticking out from under the bathroom and the nervous hushes of some guy and a girl giggling. My God, at least go outside (it's Arizona; it's almost never cold).

The worst experience was when I had been sent on Temporary Duty, TDY, to Ft. Hood, Texas. The Army was trying out a huge multi-million dollar waste of money that supposedly would do some amazing things with imagery. I went with a warrant officer (WO) and a staff sergaent (SSG). I was the lowly private first class (PFC). I should've known it was going to be bad when I arrived because the WO and the SSG had reserved rooms ahead of time at the post billets (sort of a hotel for visiting GI's) but hadn't reserved one for me. Billets was full and the only room available for a lowly PFC was out at West Ft. Hood barracks. West Ft. Hood had been an Air Force post, but the Air Force had condemned the barracks. So the Army moved in the next day. Now, my understanding of this TDY was that I would stay in Ft. Hood and do whatever was needed of me and the SSG was to go to the field site. No, no ... not quite. The SSG went out that first night on post, met some young hottie at the Non-Commissioned Officers club and decided he was going to stay at post for the next 10 days. So guess who now has to go to the field???? Lowly me, lowly PFC. This all happens within a few hours. The next morning after arriving when I awake at 6 AM, the WO and the SSG are there to pick me up and inform me I'm now the one going out to the National Training Center in the middle of California's Mojave Desert. I have certainly not packed to to go the field, I didn't bring my kevlar, I didn't bring my long johns (the desert gets cold at night in Feb.), I didn't bring wool socks (I brought cotton socks). About the only thing I had were uniforms and my field jacket. So the supply sergaent (SGT) there at West Ft. Hood scrounges up everything I need in a matter of a 1/2 hour and within 3 hours, I'm on the tarmac at the airfield loading onto a chartered plane to fly us to California.

So my bathroom experience there was probably the worst I ever had. I spend 10 days out in the middle of the Mojave; sweating like a fiend during the day, freezing at night. We didn't shower and our "bathroom" consisted of whatever bushes or scrub you could find and a shovel. On the 10th day, we go back into the main post. Now, the post has a deployment site for troops heading into the field or returning from it. At the site is this shower set up and toilets. The set up is not quite a building. It's one of those open air building where there is a wall that doesn't reach all the way up to the ceiling leaving a 3 foot gap just above head level. Your choice of water in the showers is either cold or scalding hot. So I opt for the scaldig hot shower; so hot I can only take about 5 minutes of it before I decide it's better to be a bit dirty than to have my flesh bubbling up.

However, this wasn't the worst experience at the NTC. Nope. See, in that same building are the toilets. A whole long line of toilets ... probably 15 or 20 in all in a row. With no stalls. Just an open line of toilets. So after 10 days and eating way too many field rations which are designed to keep you from becoming too regular, nature beckons and I must answer. So I walk into the building and there isn't a soul in site. So I take a seat about 3 or 4 toilets from the entrance and start to do my business.

Then another guy walks in. I sorta recognized him from the deployment site as one of the guys in the field with us. He has this thick Appalachian accent and he seems like a decent enough guy. So he decides to "cop a squat" ..... right next to me. To my horror of course. For fuck's sake, there are a good 11 or so toilets to my left but he decides to sit next to me. It's bad enough there aren't stalls, but he decides that in order to speed his process along, some conversation will do the trick. I'm stunned because 1. He sat right next to me despite the fact there are plenty of toilets to my left; and 2. He wants to talk to me while I'm doing my business. I oblige as best I can, and near the end of the conversation, I remember this .....

Toilet Guy: That dinner we had sure was good.
Me: Yeah, it's pretty cool they decided to whip out some steaks for our last night.
Toilet Guy: Yeah but that isn't what I was hugry for. I've got a taste for somethin' else.
Me: No? ... Eeerrr, ummm, well, what did ya want instead?
Toilet Guy: I tell you what, I could really go for a mess of squirrel right about now.

At this point, it is certainly time to go. I have to finish all the post downloading ceremonies and get the hell out of there. I think that experience has scarred me for life and I will always have to have my own bathroom!!!

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

99 Things About The Devil

Thanks NML for welcoming me back. It was terrible not being able to blog for a while there. I've become an addict it appears. Well, I've decided to take the easy way out on this one. I always love the "50 Things About Me" or whatever the number is. So, without further delay, I bring you the 50 Something Things About The Devil ....

1. My mother's family emigrated from Mexico when she was 3. My dad's family has been in what is now the state of New Mexico since about 1715.
2. I was born in Texas but claim New Mexico as my home, which would make me a 10th generation New Mexican.
3. I have 41 1st cousins from my mom's side (I misspoke earlier when I said it was 51) and I have 16 1st cousins from my dad's side.
4. My mom is one of 12 kids, while my dad is one of 6 and now he is the only surviving brother.
5. I have 2 sisters, KD and DA, plus one brother, VE.
6. Both my mother and my sister KD have each had 2 bouts with breast cancer, but have done wonderfully in remission.
7. I have lost one cousin to breast cancer (she was only 33), so ladies PLEASE go have your exams.
8. I tend to read anywhere from 1 to 2 books a week.
9. I watch very little TV anymore.
10. I'm also learning to play the guitar and have both an acoustic and an electric.
11. As a kid, I lived in Texas, Arizona, North Carolina, Ohio, Iowa, and Kansas before my dad was permanently relocated back to New Mexico.
12. On at least 3 occassions as a small child, I did stupid things that should've killed me (mom says God must be saving me for something special .... lol).
13. Named for an uncle who died from leukemia when he was about 11.
14. My first name is unusual and when asked, my grandmother didn't remember why she gave him that name.
15. I hate cops.
16. I can hate cops because much of my family has been involved in law enforcement.
17. One of my aunts was both the sheriff and judge in one small town at the same time.
18. Completely fascinated with the UK, Ireland, Mexico, and Spain.
19. I would love to live in any one of those 4 places.
20. I was a "frat brat" in college.
21. I was in charge of my fraternity's "hell week" or initiation week and once accidentally "shot" a pledge with a BB gun (I was shooting at something else when it ricocheted off of the target).
22. I have my B.A. in Sociology from Arizona State and my J.D. from Univ. of Cincinnati College of Law.
23. Whenever I decide to practice law, I want to practice in either Copyright, Trademark, or Immigration.
24. If money weren't a concern, I'd rather teach than do anything else.
25. I'm a great cook.
26. Unfortunately, I'm short (only 5'6").
27. Animal lover and can't stand to see anyone mistreat animals.
28. I still love my PS2.
29. I watch a couple of movies a week.
30. I can be a workaholic from time to time.
31. Lifelong fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers as well as the San Antonio Spurs, Tampa Bay Lightning, Cincinnati Reds, and the Arizona Diamondbacks.
32. I almost decided to study archaeology rather than sociology.
33. As I get older, my politics beliefs become more radical rather than mellowing out.
34. I'm a lapsed Catholic.
35. I believe that all religions are essentially the same thing, but you have to find out which one suits you best.
36. Worked in military intelligence in the Army.
37. I have been stationed (both permanently and for Temporary Duty a.k.a. TDY) in Florida, Washington D.C., Texas, Arizona, California, Saudi Arabia, and South Korea.
38. I miss the southwestern US every single day.
39. My retirement plans will be to either 1. mote to Mexico; 2. study archaeology and go on digs with a university around the world; or 3. open a small pub.
40. I love Mexican food, but hate refried beans.
41. I don't particularly like sweets, although I'll admit I'm hopelessly addicted to Diet Coke with Lime or the new Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper.
42. My father's side of the family were all essentially ranchers until my father's generation.
43. My great great grandfather had a story that an outlaw named Blackjack Ketchum once camped at one of my family's ranches in one of the deep arroyos.
44. I can still watch episodes of Jackass and still laugh my ass off everytime.
45. I'm firmly convinced Robert Smith of the Cure is a poet rather than a songwriter.
46. My fave books are Love In The Time of Cholera, To Kill A Mockingbird, Catcher In The Rye, and Bless Me Ultima.
47. I was once on a well known TV game show, Wheel Of Fortune.
48. I write left handed, play guitar left handed, but I throw right handed.
49. I'm one of the last raging liberals.
50. While in the Army, I considered going to art school so that I could become a comic book or graphic novel artist.
51. I still love comic books.
52. I love playing tennis although my forehand shot is about as flat as a pancake.
53. My musical tastes range anywhere from turn of the century blues, early R&B, ska (all 3 waves), reggae, latin, and punk.
54. I probably own about 10 baseball caps and on most weekends I wear them (does this make me a chav??).
55. I am definitely a t-shirt and shorts kinda guy.
56. I'll wear shorts as long as possible (last year I made it into October).
57. I don't get dressed up for work (because of our ultra-liberal dress policy), so when I do make the effort I'm often told I clean up nicely.
58. I'm a big softie despite being accused of having a Stifler-like personality from time to time.
59. I adore my 3 nephews; they absolutely crack me up.
60. I drive an old beat up Jeep Cherokee that I absolutely still love.
61. I hate my apartment complex.
62. I don't smoke.
63. I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol, however.
64. I wear glasses.
65. I always keep my hair fairly short.
66. I used to skateboard as a kid all the time, however, I can't rollerskate.
67. I think accents are way sexy.
68. Smart girls are defintely sexy; smart girls who go to bookstores quite a bit are sexier.
69. 69 is still a funny number to me.
70. I can make almost anyone smile or laugh.
71. I almost always have a smile on my face.
72. I have played organized football, softball, soccer, and basketball at some time in my life.
73. I don't like hot drinks.
74. I hate shaving.
75. I don't like most reality TV but still watch Cops and The Contender.
76. Jackass, The Simpsons, Chappelle's Show, and Family Guy are my favorite television shows.
77. I was once engaged.
78. My ex-fiance broke off our relationship while I was stationed overseas and it was on Valentine's Day.
79. After 34 years, I still can't read the signs if a girl is intersted in me.
80. I don't work out as much as I should or could.
81. Even though I don't go to church very often if ever, during Lent, I still won't eat meat on Fridays.
82. I think pizza is the perfect food.
83. I'm easy to please with beer although I'd prefer a Newcastle, Corona, Harp, or Bass.
84. I've never done any drug (how lame am I?).
85. I yell at the TV during policitcal programs.
86. I'm a history buff but I don't think I could ever do the whole reenactment thing.
87. I saw my first real castle in Ireland.
88. My only trip to Canada was a stopover in Gander, Newfoundland while on my way to Saudi Arabia.
89. I'm a doodler at work.
90. I'm a bad influence.
91. I'd rather date a cute geeky girl than the modelesque beauty queen.
92. I hope someday to have kids.
93. I still love kids cartoons (Spongebob rules!).
94. I could keep this list going forever.
95. I haven't been in an actual fight since I was in 7th grade.
96. Probably my favorite place in the world is sitting beside a campfire in the mountains in the middle of night when everyone is asleep.
97. Since 1996, I have moved 8 times.
98. If all goes well, I'll be moving again within a year or two.
99. There isn't much more about me, so I'll end here.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Sigh .... Music Won't Be The Same

Sorry I haven't posted in a bit. I hit the doldrums there for a while and to top it off, Blogger is acting up as it always does. It refuses to work with Firefox or IE. Is anyone else having problems with Blogger this week????

Listening to Blink on my way into work .... Music just won't be the same for me. For the past ten years, I could always count on Blink to deliver such heartfelt lyrics as "I wanna fuck a dog in the ass" or the romantic "this state looks down on sodomy". Those days are now gone like yesterday's paycheck. You still remember the money, but you find yourself asking "Where in the fuck did that money go?" (sigh)

However, I'm glad to see that music is going the way of smaller bands. The processed music crap that music conglomerates put out doesn't produce any long term artists; only flash in the pan, make a buck while you can artists. True talent like Modest Mouse, Jack Johnson, and The Shins are in it for the long haul. So that makes me smile.