setting my cup down and backin up off it...

In case anyone is planning on breaking up with someone but isn't sure how to go about it, I offer this:
1) Honest approach
This is one of the hardest ones as honesty is not usually pleasant in these situations. Usually honesty involves things like letting the other person know they suck, you have been cheating on them or you just really don't care anymore. Honestly though, it is better to be the one doing the crushing than being the one crushed, so just go for it.
2) Deception
Don't tell them you are breaking up with them, tell them you are moving far far away, joinging the peace corps (and hope they don't realize you need skills to do so) or that you are gay. They will want to believe the lie as they do not appear to suck as much, there is a reason beyond their control... Plus, if you get caught somewhere down the road, it still isn't their fault, because apparently you are a juvenille asshole.
3) Disappear
Just disappear, but in order for this to work, you have to leave the general neighborhood, and probably change jobs, and never contact your family again, or friends... hmmnn... bonus all around...
4) Start a fight and break it hard...
Find something that you know will set your insignificant other off and don't back down and let all hell break loose... I offered this suggestion to a friend:
Ask her if she farted. When she says she didn't, insist that she did. When she says she didn't get a little freaky, ask her what the big deal is cause you know she did and all she has to do is admit it, and when she doesn't you can get super freaky and accuse her of never wanting to take responsibility for anything and always trying to blame him for her problems... this should blow the lid off the whole thing... and he can storm off in a huff...
Of course, if she admits she did you will need to take a different path... tell her how disgusting it is and tell her to put a cork in it and then go into some sort of sexual disfunction tirade and storm off in a huff... whatever ends up in you storming off in a huff will work
5) Get "caught"
Hook up with someone someplace where she can "catch" you. Like in her bed. Or someplace that will cost more money, like her couch, cause you know she would have to replace the couch if she saw your naked ass shufflin' around on it... Do it like Tucker Max did, leave a skid mark on one of the cushions... Like a magic wand waved in the air *presto* no more girlfriend.
6) I suppose there are other ways, like if she was real good looking you could let me hook up with her and then catch us... You would be able to blame the whole thing on her and I would be doing my civic duty... I am all about community, after all. But I would need to get permission, which is unlikely, as my wife is not as civic minded as I am or would potentially be if I had permission to be so...
Oh, and besides, when you dump someone they are never going to be the one that got away. The one that got away is more likely to be the one that dumped YOUR ass because you sucked and couldn't like up to their whorish expectations, oh, and they are probably making tons of money and with some loser, too...
***
Hey... I spent money on myself today on something other than food...
Wanna see what I ordered?

Pretty cool, huh...
I was thinking about hi-tops today, wanna know why?
OK, well, I was on the bus, and I was sitting there facing the snaggle tooth gal and I could see her feet... Don't stop reading!!! You are probably thinking, oh, she had hi-tops on... but she didn't!!!
She had low tops on. I was looking and she had the most f*ck3d up cankles I have ever seen. You know how like when you see someone with a muffin top (for those of you that are lost, a muffin top is one of those gals that wears pants and the jelly roll comes up over the waist of the pants making it look kinda like the top of a muffin)(FYI... Muffin Tops are OUT, but Whale Tails are IN, ladies). So she had somehow stuffed the section at the end of her legs into these tennis shoes and over the top of the shoes was spilling all this cankle... I saw flesh... her actual ankles were like dimples, just indentions in the dough, you dig... Dude, riding the bus, it is like going to the zoo... I just kinda sit there and watch the animals randomly move and do things and freely stare... Serious, you know like when you see the giraffes and they are standing there chewing and they kinda look at you and you stare back and don't care if they are looking at you cause they are animals and there is nothing going on there... it is kinda like that... I can sit and observe (gorrila's in the mist again) and if they look at me I don't care... So I watched the snaggle and she kinda threw her head around, woke from her slumber, slumped back, fanny packs jingling... I saw her look at me and thought I saw a glimmer of something in her eyes, I immediately thought of Algernon, like in flowers for Algernon, and she was Charlie Gordon... funny, huh...
***
So I am a fancy boy right now, got a new haircut, new jeans on, new shoes on order, hopefully a new car in the near future (Caprice or an Astro Van anyone?), uhh... yeah, fancy...
I was speaking with the lovely wife earlier and I was all like, hey, whats going on this weekend, eh? and she said things and I made uh-huh sounds, and I was all like, hey, it is my turn to talk, and I want to do that thing with the meat, and she was all like, what thing with the meat (she has a dirty mind, she said it like "what thing with the meat") and I said Pork and we laughed and laughed, but really, I said I want to go get a big thing of pork and cook it up and she was like, Oh... so I had to scramble, and I was all like trying to accentuate it, like that thing with the pork is not super fancy enough, and I was all describing how I would cook it all day and eat it after it was done and stuff... and she was all like, uh-huh... so I wasn't really asking permission or anything, but was hoping to get her buy in, like, hey, what a fantastic friggin' idea, you rock and I am going to hump your leg... stuff like that... like I do when she says things... if I don't get that I just have to sit and pump myself up, you know, like, pat myself on the back for having such a great idea, self satisfaction and shit... Ahh, I hear you thinking out there, damn he has some low self esteem and smells like a lesbian (so I have been told, so I love lesbians, unless my lovely wife actually hates the way I smell, then I hate lesbians)(side note: my lovely wife told my daughter that she could probably play for the Storm one day the way she was dribbling the ball and I started thinking of that south park episode where they were all in love with the teacher and Cartman was licking some carpet and eating a box and stuff and I almost said something, but I didn't) but you know what, I don't have such low self esteem that I need to take YOUR crap, so keep it to yourselves... I only care about doing exceptional things and/or exceeding expectations as far as my wife is concerned, which makes me a fricken noble bastard... like chief seattle or something... oh, sorry, that is native american, uhhnnn...

Looking for a Ride...

HEY!!!
I forgot to mention, I am looking for a new ride...
Actually WE are looking for a new ride...
Something for the lovely MRS. to drive back and forth to church and such, so I am not trapped at home and can shuttle the kids to their misc. functions and stuff...
Thought I would put this out their to ya'll, in case you know of a sweet ride for not too much money that we can pick up in the near future how about dropping me a line.
This vehicle should be in running condition, relatively safe, and really cool... I am leaning towards Camaro or El Camino but the lovely wife is leaning towards like an Aspen or a Dart or something.. although a mini van would be just fine... or a full size van with a bed and captains chairs and stuff... yeah!!!

Today I kill the Barber...

I was sittin' there yesterday, doing Viking things, as usual, when I took my Viking lunch. I ate some raw meat and misc small rocks then called the lovely Viking wife...

How's it going, I say.

Fine, she says.

What are you doing? I ask

Nothing, she says.

What are you doing, she says.

Nothing, I say, Haven't killed anyone all day.

You are going to the barber shop today, she says.

To kill the barber? I ask.

To get your haircut, she says.

Can I pillage after I am done? I ask.

You are taking the littlest Viking for a haircut also, she tells me.

Oh, I says, I know there will be no plundering with her...

So I did my thing for a while, random boat carving and knife sharpening, the usual and went home.

The good lady Viking had made me some dinner, meat with vegetables (mushrooms are vegetables, right?) and she starts giving me instructions on the haircut that the little one is too received.

OK, I says, So what about my haircut, what am I to tell the barber to do with my hair?

I was kinda joking, although this is a new barber, I figured I would give her the same instructions I had given the old one.

Well, she says, now that you mention it, I always hated your old barber. The way he cut your hair made you look like a big asshole. Made your head look "long" and you smell like crap.

I was all like, whoa... I have been seeing the same barber for like 15 years. He was a good barber, he did what I told him. I shared this with the lady...

Well you are a dipshit then... she says...

Remember that one haircut you got long ago in Bothell? You looked like George Clooney and I attacked you after that? That is what you need..., she tells me...

I don't remember...

But I am willing to get my haircut any way she wants if it means she will attack me... see, Vikings, when they are attacked, usually fight to the death, a battle well fought... Being attacked by their Viking wench, well, it is still a fight to the death, but just a "little death". Vikings dig that, gives them a chance to do some role playing, act "vulnerable", like they are helpless and are not capable of breaking you in 2 with their bare hands... Of course, it always ends with a slap on the ass to remind them who is boss... but Vikings dig that...

So I went to the barber. Vicky, that is a good sign, almost like Viking... anyway, I grabbed her by her shirt collar and shook her around a bit, growled and shit, made sure she realized who was boss. Gave her some instructions, something along the lines that if she didn't give me a killer haircut that resulted in some action there were going to be consequences... She said she understood... She spent much time on my hair... I thought it looked nice.

She did the little Vikings hair, it looked nice. The littlest Viking pillaged the licorice bucket, leaving it in shambles. Thats my girl. I hurried home for some action.

Ahh, your hair looks nice, the lovely wife says... to the littlest Viking.

I came in and turned for inspection, 90 degrees turns, 4 times, a complete circle.

How do you like it, I ask, feeling like a big puss, cause Vikings don't care about that shit...

Eh... she says... How do you like it?

Fine, fine, I says, but I am not interested in attacking myself...

and that is where it was left... Pins and needles, muscles coiled like boa constrictors waiting for the anticipated attack... which never comes... soon the torches were burnt out and I covered myself with buffallo hides (which the Vikings stole from the Indians) and layed down, hand on my sword...

***

But seriously, I was ready to kill yesterday. Felt all jumpy and shit, like I had to watch over my shoulder all the time, every step was painful... anything that took effort was an uphill battle. I have no idea why this was. I know I was feeling some frustration, of a general and non specific variety. I know that there was some loud noises at home, tired girls and shit... and my lovely wife was in a cleaning frenzy, which made me uncomfortable... I can't relax if she is cleaning, I feel like I am supposed to be helping or participating or something.. but there is a fine line... I can't actually help her with the same task, so I have to find a similar but different task so we are not interferring with each other. So I get done with a task, and if she is still doing something then I got to find another task... if I sit down I get all twitchy and shit... Now, she has not directly told me that I need to help and stuff... but I kind of infer it. I am not laying any of this on her, it is my own trip, so don't get me wrong.

I don't know how I got to be so sensetive... like a delicate flower or something... like a frog or butterfly that is affected by the slightest change in the ecosystem...

I woke up last night, I don't know, around 11pm and thought I smelt cigarette smoke... I figured it was coming in the window from the gal upstairs who smokes like 3 packs a day, plus whatever her boyfriend is smoking... so I had to get up and wonder the apartment looking for where the smell could be coming from... I was all like, goddammit... then I get all wound up about having to get up in 4 hours and NEEDING to get back to sleep and then I get all twitchy on any random thought that comes into my head...

Anyhow, I am better now, I think... gonna drink coffee until I explode or something...

***

Hey!!!

I just got the Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I am going to start reading it today. I think it will be fun.

I just got done reading Getting Stoned with Cannibals, by J Maarten Troost. This was a follow up to The Sex Lives of Cannibals. Both are kinda travel journal/adventure books, which I really dig... of course, now my dreams of laying on a beach in the south Pacific are kinda shot... not so appealing now... as a matter of fact, going anywhere outside of the PNW sounds bad... anywhere, east of Yakima and south of Oregon = bad... I am going to limit my travels to western Washington, Oregon and up into BC, to include Alaska... anywhere outside that is right out... unless it involves Morocco or something... Tangiers...

Anyhow, I can't remember what I was reading before that.

As far as recommendations go, I would recommend you do NOT read a book called The woman who walked into doors. It was well written, I guess, but it still gives me nightmares and should be avoided at all costs...

Next, I think I might have to pull out some Vonnegut. It has been a while since I read him. What's that one, God bless you Mr. Rosewater, or something like that... I think that is the one I remember so well, apart from Bluebeard and Slaughterhouse 5 and Breakfast of Champions. Hmmnn... Actually, it has been a while since I read some Tom Robbins... hmmnnn...

****

You know, I expect more from myself than this crap. I really do. Maybe a couple days off would help, I don't know. I have a couple theories that I can't discuss right now, but I expect that there are some distractions that I could do without. Or could do with, or something...

I think it might be best if I put it into song:

Good times for a change See, the luck I've had Can make a good man turn bad So please please please Let me, let me, let me Let me get what I want this time ...

So, in the meantime, sorry about the crap... I will try to do better in the future...

a big fan of Pies, Taco's and wild Beavers...

I did an quick survey at Home, the demographic being girls between the ages of 4 and 8, and posed this question:
"You know what?"
Overwhelmingly the answer to this question was, you guessed it:
Chickenbutt.
I was a bit suprised that 100% of the girls between the ages of 4 and 8 would have this answer, so I followed up with the question:
"Do you know what is under there?"
Again, the response was immediate and overwhelmingly:
Underwear!!!
Furthermore, I can see your buttcrack...
Less commonly, it has been determined that you should:
Stop looking at me!!!
I didn't do anything!!!
and
STOP IT!!!
I decided to step it up a notch and took a list of words to my wife for her to respond to... I wanted to do this in a very informal setting, so waited until we were at my parents house...
First word... PIE...
I got no response, so I tried mixing it up...
Can I hold your PIE? and Nice PIE.
Want me to do something with your PIE?
Overwhelmingly the response back to these questions were something along the lines of me being an asshole... I believe the most common response was: You're an asshole!
Similar response to the comment: Nice Beaver!!!
***
Bunch of new pictures up on Flickr...
Click on the homo to get there...

***
Man, I got nothin today...
Oh, it was mentioned that some people just LOVE peaking at my stuff... they also enjoy reading my blog (boom boom chaaa)... but they can't think of a good nickname for themselves... Damn, you should have let me know... I can make one up for you... We could be like the Ramones, yo, only it would be like Trey Ramone, or Trey Bootywiffer... or Stefpoonie... whatever... We are all friends here... except for Larry Lagasa... screw you Larry!!! I still hate you!!! oh, and Rainwater!!! Lick it, Rainwater!!! You Suck!!!
***
Oh, and theoretically speaking, but not really, say you were going to break up with someone, but like, your anniversary was coming up, or Xmas, or Festivus, or Friday, whatever is important to you on your holiday schedule... it is my feeling that it would be just fine to break up before, on, or after any of these events... maybe might delay if they had concert tickets, or they owed you money or something... but there would be no need to delay just because it was the holiday season, right? That is my opinion, in case anyone were wondering... Also acceptable is having noplace to go yet... OK to delay until you do as long as it is not a year or two down the road... Also ok to delay if they are the ultimate evil and a slight delay might CRUSH them even harder... I, of course, believe that the best time to break up with someone is when you have fallen in love with an angel, but that is just how I roll...
***
Speaking of gay butt sex, not really though, I was thinking that the most anal thing about me is the loading of the dishwasher. I do not know why, but things have GOTTA be in the right order and location or it is wrong wrong wrong. I have been known to unload a dishwasher and reload it if I find it is not done correctly... Damn, I hope that is as bad as I get... I don't think the bathroom thing is really the same, that is more of a survival thing...
But I have this feeling that there is some sort of tick or emotional freaky deaky thing thiat I am not aware of that everyone in a room would all say they have noticed...
I remember playing this game with some friends once, something called what I hate about you or something... we went around the room and told the person of the moment what we did not like about them... we were pretty loaded, and suprisingly not a lot of bad feelings came from it... I was looking forward to my turn and the best everyone could come up with was that I moved my arms or hands or something too much when I spoke... yeah... I was pissed... thats it? So if I stop moving my arms I will be perfect? Hhhmnnn... I have always assumed, to this day, that they were scared to say anything more than that for fear that I would kill 'em all... go on some sort of rampage and just kinda leave them bloody and dead and shit... hmmnn...

...gently floating like a leaf, down down down

Fu-fu-fu-friday...
I have a hankerin' to fire up the deep fryer this weekend. I have a 800lb bag of potatos in the cellar, 3 or 4 bottles of corn and or canola oil, and a strong desire... seems like it should be a slam dunk. Dude, I read something within the last couple days, this chick was asking why fries fried in HORSE fat taste so much better than other fries... I, of course, had no explanation, so I read on and someone explained that HORSE fat is low or high in saturated fat or unsaturated fat or something... the details are fuzzy but I am sure that if you arrange those words in the right order it would make sense... I don't really care... I pretty much lost the desire to have a taste at the word HORSE... although part of me is intrigued...
Not sure how this relates, but Red Bear Seattle likes to AIM me random headlines or something and sent me one about words you don't want to appear in your obituary or something and it said something like "... next to his body were found a condom and a tube of KY Jelly.". I tried to explain that it may not be so bad... all you have to do is add the words "... and a smile on his face." to the story and it would completely change the context.
I guess if we change the word HORSE to PIG I would get a boner... Change HORSE to something like, uh, GOAT, well, I don't know, I have had goat and it ain't that bad... How about change HORSE to BABY... yeah, I wouldn't eat them fries either... what a question that would be though... "Why do fries fried in Baby Fat taste so damn good???"
***
Dude, ok, so I changed the header/banner thingy up there... I like it... I added a few link to the right there... NOW, DO IT NOW, CLICK ON COOP!!! He is soo cool, I want to be his buddy. He does things, with art and stuff, real cool, and he put up a bunch of Glam Rock Videos... Ballroom Blitz by Sweet is the first one, there are actually several Sweet videos... I watched them all yesterday and am still mesmerized... His art is real cool also... and he is cool and does cool things and cool and stuff...
***
I had to go to the bathroom again today. When I got there, the light was out, which is a good sign, means there ain't no one in there...
I sat down gently. It was quiet, contrasted to yesterday, my breathing was like one of those air pumps in the hospital, gentle swishes, maybe a slight whistle of air through my nose... There was no grunting, straining... my refuse floated like a feather to land on the gentle blue lake below, and slowly sank into the abyss... a quick pass through the valley, a flush, and the smell of flowers... and I was outta there... more proof that I should use the womens room... I am dainty in my daily ablutions... if my going to the bathroom was a painting it would be from the romantic period, serene and chaste...
They should give me my own bathroom... it would be one of those places where people could look in the door, over the rope, but never transgress, cause they know they don't belong and they would be afraid of breaking something... it would be one of those places people just know they are not allowed in, forbidden, or like a chapel or something and they would need to be on their best behaviour, but they would never actually do their business there cause it would be a sacrilege and the very foundations of the earth would shake from the outrage...
People allowed to use my personal bathroom:
The Lovely Mrs.
Neko Case
The Dalai Lama
I think that about covers it.
***
I feel like shopping, maybe for a pair of Vans hightops, like I used to have, a new camera, a external storage device for the home comps, a couple t-shirts, and some new sheets for the bed (deep pocket, perhaps with Hello Kitty on them, or something from Sin in Linen... google it...
I feel tired which makes me: a) consider depression, b) antagonistic c) something something
I feel like having a drink: A Rainier Ale and some Black Velvet... or some really cheap Tequila and a Pabst... Oh, yeah, a homemade Cruzan 120 proof rum pina colada... those are the ones with coconut and pineapple juice, right? yeah, that sounds good...
Still feel like deep frying something... Doh, like doing up some of my world famous Puerco Domingo and making some Chimichangas... erp, wood...
I feel like a big puss for wearing my heart on my sleeve like this... like ya'll are reading this and thinking, "What a big puss."...
***
So the chick that waters the plants was in watering the plants again. She did not appear to be digging my shit and hasn't the last few times she has come in...
1) So what...
A) I am a Viking now and if I want the woman I take the woman, it is the Viking way
B) I am married to the most wonderful woman in the known universe and at least 6 different dimensions so other woman really hold no appeal.
C) I shouldn't be mingling with "the staff".
D) She is probably a lesbian, which is hot, but I understand.
E) She is probably suffering from low self esteem and figures that someone like her could never make it with someone like me and it makes her mad and sad at the same time cause I am so killer and desirable.
So I was thinking along all these lines and maybe a little bit that she thinks that I am an ugly asshole (yeah, RIGHT!!!) and married and stuff, and considering our interactions and relationship consists of her watering a plant near my desk once a week and our interactions to date have consisted of 10 minutes worth or time, that in the big scheme this doesn't really matter. But I put this to you, consider this or even something less, like someone not sitting next to you on the bus, and they are cute or otherwise admirable... you want to be admired back right? That is pretty basic... I think even on the most superficial level you want to be found attractive to others, but being so superficial, the level, how do you determine that you are or not... does that make sense... what am I trying to say...
It doesn't matter if someone doesn't want to sit next to you on the bus but you would like to think that people would want to even though you will eventually be getting off the bus and sharing the seat will no longer matter... uhh... I want people I find interesting to find me interesting too, even if nothing comes of it? damn, I don't know... forget I said anything...

Gawd Damnnitt...

Just walked into the friggin bathroom... I should know better, but I had to pee...
I need to call someone...
Dude in there, grunting and grunting, sounding like a gorrilla or something... GRUNT!!!
Then heavy breaths... huh huh huh...
Then GRUNT!!!!
Then huh huh huh...
I peed faster than I ever have before, but delicate, you know, like a friggin gentleman...
Zip it and bust a move to get out before something bad happens...
I just get the door open, 10 seconds from freedom, and suddenly the dudes O ring busts out - KapOWWW!!! SPLAT!!!
Dammit... for real... Dammit all to hell...
At least it has replaced the Wicked soundtrack echoing in my head... but WHY, dear lord, WHY???

I am going to start using the womens room exclusively, since there are only like 5 girls on this floor or something, but I bet you could have a row of 20 stalls all filled with the ladies, they could all be crappin at once, in unison, you dig, and I bet it would sound like the morning, like with birds chirping and the dawn slowly breaking... all peaceful like... Oh, and smell like baby powder... yeah...

Cussing and Shit...

I have been reading different things lately about the use of cuss words (and shit) in writing and how it makes the author appear ignorant and is completely unnecessary or something...
You know what I have to say about that... ahh, you know... (add funny/ironic cussing here, except it wouldn't really be ironic cause you damn well know I was going to do it anyhow)...
Now, I disagree... colorful cussing adds a certain flavor, a spice if you will, to the bland meatloaf of your day. From what I have seen and heard and thunk up myself, it is usually people who feel they are better (or above) others that like to look down their noses and discount the dirty bastards that use potty language... Now check that out... ain't nothin like throwin the word bastard in a sentence... when I see or hear the word bastard somewheres I get a boner... like being in a restaurant and having some super hot waitress ask if you want some fresh cracked pepper or cheese on your meal... Hell yes I do, dammit... and jiggle while you do it...
Now, I will admit that there are certain styles I don't like, and you can tell when people are just dumbshits and throwin' around big words for no apparent reason... too much pepper, dude... and anyone should be able to tell the difference between me being all flavorful (have I mentioned I am tasty? like an all day sucker... a blowpop...) and some dude being a moron... you can, can't you? Come on!!!
Oh, and I was reading this thing about not using "like" as a sentence enhancer... "I was, like, running..." or "he was all, like, running..." You know? But when I throw that in there, I hear it in my head, but in a different voice, like it ain't even me, it is like masturbating left handed... I do not believe that I actually use that kind of sentence structure when I am speaking with people, yo...
To be honest, I was reading some Maddox yesterday (see his picture on the lower left and click on it) and he was giving kind of a manifesto FAQ and he explained a lot of this and I was all like, hey, me too... although I should not have to explain myself, and I will stop... except to say that I think you should be free to cuss and people who don't agree are assholes...
Oh, and I am not going to be a ninja anymore... or a pirate... for real... I am now a Viking.
Supposedly, and I had proof of this at one time, but for real, there is Viking blood coursing through my veins... Way way back in the family history, like 1000 years or something, my people came from the places that Vikings come from... whats that, Norseland or something... Scandinavian? I am too lazy to look it up right now, but north of France (loosen up a bit, it is north of France kinda like McHenry is north of Fargo... I ain't no phd of direction, damn)... And I am not making this up, but the family name, way back, was Savage (or Sauvage as they were originally known in France)... Long story short, I hate french people and will hence forth be a Viking instead of a Ninja... Lets get real... I am kinda stealthy, can sneak up on your shit and stuff, but really, I am more of a frenetic kinda straight forward bash you on the head and steal your women and livestock kinda guy... and I love those Viking helmets... Like in that Natalie Portman rap video, that dude in the end dressed like a Viking... I would love to dress like that every day... in fur and what they call it, jerkin or something... with a big old horny helmet... yeah...
Hey, you know how sometimes when I put something down here and instead of spelling it out I just throw a ' on it? Like 'cause instead of because? or sumpin' instead of sumping? Thats flavor. yep... spicy...
**
I am at a loss for words, although I had typed out about 1500 on how my wife rocks and shit... but really, when I try to describe in words how she is really cool and hot and stuff it all sounds like crap... not big and grand enough... like I should be writing in bold font that literally jumps off the screen and slaps you so when you read about how fantastic she is you get a head rush and your life flashes before your eyes or you think you have been brushed by angel wings... and you pass out... so you kinda just read it and go WOW. Annoying? Hhhmmnn... imagine what it is like to be her and I am all throwing myself at her feet and following her around stuff. It must be hard for her, being all up on a pedestal, with the blood sacrifices and cooked pork all the time... and yet she wears it well...
All I am saying, I guess, is "KUDOS to you, baby. Well done!"
**
OH, Dude...
Yesterday the Noner came up to me while I was on the computer and was all like, do you know where my gaucho's are? I was all like, What?!? And she said it again. Now, at that point I had no idea what she was talking about. I have heard the word before, and I was thinking she meant something about her Mexican soup, but I know she wouldn't be asking me for her Mexican soup... Then I thought shoes, but that would be zappatos or something... Man, as far as girls clothes go I can pick out the following if they were in a pile: Bra and Panties (cause, you know, I have had lots of experience with bras and panties being in a pile) and I know what a shirt is, and pants, and shorts... beyond that... no... oh, yeah, I knew by then she was talking about clothes, should have put that first... anyway... so she is asking me where her gauchos are and I had to just shake my head at her and she went on to describe them in words that made them sound like pants, kinda... I was way too confused by this point so the best I could come up with was to check the dryer... Thank your favorite god, that is where they were... Turns out they are like pants, but not all the way to the ankles, kinda past the knee or something... is that right? I think so, or she grew some more, or they shrunk, but they were brown and came to mid calf and she was happy with them...
So my problem really is, how does a 7 year old girl pick up all the girl clothing terms when a 38 year old dude doesn't? I mean, what the hell... My daughter should not know more than I do about anything at this point... and is this stuff like intrinsic? Girls just know about this stuff? Secret internal handbook that boys don't get... as far as boys (and men) go, we know there are certain things that happen to women and that women do that we do not know and don't want to know and just kinda freak us out, and I am fine with that... I know all about the girls secret network, a million words being passed with a glance... but at 7?!?!
Ahh, but she is going to be a little fashionista... they are already laying out clothes days in advance, and changing 5 times a day... not playing dress up, that adds... just changing... Heh, the youngest one likes to put on "cool underwear" at random intervals, cool like, not hot...

There is a place in the sun for anyone that has the will...

Ahh, if you've got a bad attitude today, raise your hand...
You, yes, you... Ninja in the corner, I see you have your hand up... what seems to be the problem?
Me, using my ninja skills, burn holes of hate into him with my eyes... uhh, him being me in this internal dialog, does that mean I am filled with self loathing?
Negative, ghost rider...
Had a negative day yesterday, not positive... which, of course, left me stewing in my own juices, and unlike slow cooking pork, which is delicious by the way, slow cooking me is not... it really is a shame, cause I am Tasty (note the capital T)... so I go rollin' into today with a self fullfilling prophesy of hate and unhappiness...
Dude, I am trying to work myself out of this funk...
Got my hand down my pants and am trying to picture my happy spot (well, technically I am at that place where I spend all my time so actually I have my thumb up my ass)...
Listening to some good tunes, Morrissey and the Smiths, Tragically Hip, Janes Addiction, Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, The Cure... uhh, others...
That solo Live Morrissey, Live at Earls Court, let me just say, it is fantastic... he is totally on I tell you...
The Hip... Vienna Giftshop, Apartment Song, ahh... Grace too...
Janes Addiction - 3 days... Dude, when I hear that song I still travel back about 15 years to this one night in Seatac... I remember it was warm, their was foil on the walls of this apartment, drinkin' and smokin with some new friends... very mellow but it always sticks there...
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - Where have all the rude boys gone... if you are my wife and you are reading this, you will find this song on the computer... you should listen to it...
The Cure... I think that Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me is their best album ever... If only tonight we could sleep, Like Cockatoos, Just like heaven... damn...
Oh, Radiohead... wow, do people realize how cool they are? Apparently...
and a blah blah blah...
**
Hey, raise your hand if you haven't smoked since early May!!!
You, yes, you... Ninja in the corner... good for you. Hard to throw a ninja star with one hand and hold a smoke in the other hand... your skills are growing daily...
**
Speaking of Ninja's and the Smiths... chatted briefly with a chick I used to work with... it was pretty random, but I seem to remember that she had misplace judgement when it came to which Smiths/Morrissey song was the best one in the world... I can't remember now, but if I had to start the debate again I would tell her that Hand in Glove or Hitchhikers of the World Unite or Handsome Devil is probably at the peak of freshness... I decline to debate solo Morrissey vs. the Smiths... it is too sad...
Anyhow, she has a blog at HERE
She is pretty cool and I like her pictures... how come mine are all fuzzy all the time but hers seem to be crisp and clear? I blame my camera... I think it is time for some disastrous calamity to happen to the Fuji... My photo ninja skills are sound, it must be the equipment...
Anyway, from what I remember of this chick (it has been a few years, yo) we had some conversations, I seemed to be coming from more of a liberal standpoint or something... and something about her husband being 3 1/2 feet tall or something... but cool, you know, tiny but cool... I can't really remember... it was one of those deals where you ain't really buddies or anything, you respect each other and are willing to argue with each other without it getting to personal or holding a grudge... at least that is how I remembered it... and I guess she is willing to randomly speak with me, so I must not have been too big an ass... it is kinda like I have a friend or something...
Hey, friend! Hello!!!
**
Oh, and Hey... I am feeling better... I may go for a walk later...
Funny, how sometimes you can get all agitated and let things build up and there doesn't seem to be a way out and then it all melts away or, looking back, in retrospect, it ain't that bad... it ain't that bad...

Aaahhh, what a bunch of crap...

What is a bunch of crap? Ahh, well, this and that.

I remeber driving along during the vacation and mentioning to the lovely wife that you would think or hope that given time away from the place you spend so much of you life and given time to just sit and think you would come up with something. You know, figure shit out and stuff. Like what you would do different, or what is wrong that needs to be made right... stuff like that. Then you come back to the real world and are ready to kick some ass, not take it anymore, fight the good fight, or quit.

I was hoping that I would suddenly remember what it is I always wanted to do with my life. Suddenly have that bright and shiny moment where I figured out how to make all the money I need, be happy doing it and how to execute this in a quick and efficient manner. Or at least suddenly develop the balls to tell the overlord where to go and make a grand statement with my actions.

Heh, but damn, it is soooo easy to fall right back into that ass groove here on my chair. Right on back to the old habits and squashed soul.

Oh, don't pity me, it ain't that bad, but I feel that I am just floating a bit too much, waiting for something to happen... and here's the thought that I had this morning, perhaps instead of waiting for something to happen I should MAKE something happen. Like, Dude, you can't wait for a cake to fall in your lap, you gotta make the cake, you dig... WOW, ain't that a breathtaking discovery... but, see, the problem is, and the reason I have been just kinda floating along, is probably because of my ninja training, it takes a lot out of me, but also because I am a lazy bastard and for the life of me I can't think of anything to DO... Hell, I can't think of what I want for dinner, how can I think of something I wanna do with my life... perhaps I should write things, how about that... ok, so I am... now I just need someone to pay me for it, like randomly stumble across my ramblings and say, HEY, that's genious, and he's a ninja, I think I will pay him to be a genious ninja for me... now how many zero's are in a million again? (at least 6 for those of you keeping score)...

I figure that wouldn't be much different from when I was a professional lover... now I am a retired professional lover, not getting paid for it, you dig, but a PRO, yo... you know, getting paid for what I do for free...

I don't know, I wonder what it would be like to have someone wanting 5000 words on schedule or deadline or something... I remember what it was like in college, something about drinking heavy and staying up late the night before something was due... hmmnn... I think it would be different this time. I think I do better NOT drinking heavy and perhaps getting UP early... but really, someone calling me up and saying "gimme 5000 words on traffic in Seattle" and then being able to crank it out... hmmm...

Speaking of traffic in Seattle, there was some crap in the paper sunday about traffic in Seattle, or drivers in Seattle, or something... Damn, bitch and moan... get tired of hearing about the crappy drivers around here... and there are tons of them, and I know (I am admitting it here) that I become a bitchy driver at times, not being patient or friendly or something... but damn, there are some downright BAD drivers around here... And I have to believe it is deliberate. I don't think that it is completely just brain dead mouth breathers who are responsible, I think it is all people who know better but are gonna be pricks either because they feel entitled or because they want to make an exception just this once...

OK, so say I am in the Carpool lane, which is the far left lane, which is sometimes called the fast lane, and I am doing 65 in a 60. Someone comes up on me from behind and is riding my ass because they want to go faster, but I am already going over the limit, eh... I should get out of their way, I really should, assuming there are only the 2 of us on the road and there is no real reason for me to be in the fast lane... but assume I am in the carpool lane because traffic is uber heavy and I am passing everyone in the normal lanes... why the hell should I get out of someones way just because they want to go faster than I do? Why should I be going 80 just so they are not riding my ass... I would not be the rude one in this situation, it would be THEM... ultimately, noone should be riding someone elses ass if they are going over the speed limit, or at it, or at least, they should be expecting that they are going to get slowed down...

Merging??? yeah, you bastards that run the lane until it ends and bust in front of everyone else at the last minute, like, say on I-5 where the right lane ends up around the southcenter hill... or you assholes that want to exit 405 to get to Renton or Kent and try to get in the line of cars just before the exit starts, despite the fact... despite the fact... Aarrghghghg...

Feeling some frustration right now... mostly because this is all in my imagination and should not matter in my "REAL" life, you dig... more and more this life is infringing on my "REAL" life... or I am just pretending that the two are not reversed... Back to the sea with me, I say... would be good to be barechested and feeling the ocean spray from the hull of a schooner as I cross the equator... rum and buggery, thats the life for me... and tattoo's... buggering women with tattoo's... oh, I am so confused...

Go HERE and dig on the Dresden Dolls... Girl Anachronism is freaking me out lately...

Oh, Yeah, Hey!!!

You can check out more pictures at HERE ..
I am thinking about getting a PRO account at Flickr... need to organize a bit...

Back back back back

This is my vacation post, I shan't speak of it again, well, maybe I will... I am planning my next vacation, a real vacation, yo...
I am picturing some sort of opium den, velvet on the walls, big comfy bed and/or pillows strewn about the room and white rabbit playing low in a continual loop... Of course this image also includes random nudity and pork products, not at the same time, perhaps... Sea air would be nice, perhaps hotsprings... ahhh, I can almost imagine the silence... sweet sweet silence...
Oh, here are some pictures, do the clickety-click thing to make them real big... The first picture has already been stolen and posted on the red bears blog...




I met this friendly bear while we were in Medora... One thing led to another and, well, you get the picture...

This is the steak that resulted from the Pitchfork Fondue. It was lucious. I think that everything is just a little better after it has been deepfried. If someone dipped ME in hot oil I would rise from the oil glowing like Krishna and shit... Holy, yo!!!

These are the pitchforks I mentioned. I figure they went through something like 2000 steaks in about half an hour...

Down one of the side streets in McHenry... Road seems to go on for ever and ever, eh? I think this was very pleasant.

Behind the abandoned school in town there was an abandoned playground with a big ass slide. I figured if the girls tried to go down it they would disappear into some sort of time warp and reappear 20 years in the past and start crying and shit, so I wouldn't let them go... It looked hella rickety anyhow...

These are on the Enchanted Highway. I figure it should not be called this, more like real interesting highway, not quite enchanted yet...

These were like the punk ass bufallo from the herd of buffalo we plowed through in the Spirit Lake area... The one on the far left is my favorite cause he's got a broken horn... I figure he is either the bad boy in the herd or he used to be but is now getting his life back in order but still bears the scars from that knifefight he got into when he was in Juvi...

This is also on the Enchanted Highway. Huge friggin scultures... See my beautiful old lady real tiny compared to the sculpture? Yeah...

BACK!!!

OK, bitches,
Daddy is back in town...
Left Billings yesterday at something like 9am (after getting gas and espresso) and pulled into the parking lot at The Pointe (need one of those umlauts (oomlahts?) above the e) at 9ish pm last night... Oh, there were 2 time zones in there so it is actually like 14 hours and 800+ miles...
I think I said HEY!!! at least 1000 times, either to yell at the kids and old lady (HEY, knock that shit off) or because I saw some on the side of the road or on a truck (HAY!!!)... You should try it, next time you see some just yell it out like someone just stepped on your toes or something... It freaks peoples shits outs...
Oh, I was going to mention, everybody knows the rule about honking in a tunnel right? Now, not the dirty kind, you bastards, but like, if you are driving somewhere and you go into a tunnel you gotta honk your horn, I like to do the shave and a haircut thing, myself, but equally impressive is to just lay on the horn the entire way through... The goal is to get other people to honk back (not just slam on their brakes because they think it is the horn of the coming apocolypse or something... So seldom do I get someone to honk back, but when you do, yeah, it is like someone ackowledging that you are alive....
Anyhow, honk your horn and shit...
I will consider the last week or so and post something up tomorrow or today or something... Gotta figure out how to get all the pictures somewhere... hmmm...
So anyone wanna fill me in on what I missed and what kind of shitstorm I will be walking into when I go back to that place I spend all my time?

Me-ooowwwwww

Ok, so according to my lovely old lady, there is about 800 more miles to go from here, which, at 80+ mph should only take about 10 hours.... at 60 my calculations put us at around 200 hours, so the path is clear, balls to the wall, put the hammer down, ooh, I feel a song coming on:
" I said a-little honey bunny tell me what's your 20
I got my rabbit ears on and I wanna get chummy
Yeah you're a speed-freakin' demon blow my back doors off, Lord
But if you ain't gettin on then I ain't gettin off
Well I'm 10-4, 10-8 an' I got the 10-36
Yes, I'd like to stick around and get my miniskirt kicks, hey
C'mon, C'mon cut yer radidio on
I'm in the hammer down lane steppin' all alone
You pass your steady-rollin' buddy from the Guitar Town
I'll raise hell on wheels & knock the slack right out
C'mon perty baby, why don'tcha cut em on
Yer diesel-drivin' daddy's gonna get real gone, hey

Well my CB sweetie just put her big ears on
Her Rattletrap papa's who her handle's on
She knew I wasn't no Smokey with an X-ray gun
Now she's in my bottle-popper all ready to run
Well, she's my li'l lot-lizrd but she don't shed her skin
She just skins the cat when my big rigger rolls in."

It is actually going to be more like the cowboy junkies...
" I've got 200 more miles of rain asphalt in line
before I sleep
But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms
to fall into tonight

They say that I am crazy
my life wasting on this road
that time will find my dreams
scared or dead and cold"

Ssshhhhh...

I am in Billings, MT...
Somehow the town is full of people and almost all the hotels are full, so we ended up at the Dude Rancher Lodge... in a suite... Really, though, it is not as luxurious as you would imagine from my description...
So much to talk about, really, but it all really boils down to misc animals; white tails, buffalo and beaver... Oh, and I played cards with the inlaws and did not lose...
Oh, you will see, you will see, I took tons of pictures of haunted places and dead things (I think) and other annoying stuff...
But I drove for 12 hours today and am only half way home and I am verry tired, so screw you... ya'll can tell me how much you miss me later...

Kicking the old mans ass (supplimentary)

I know the old man from way back, from when I was first coming up in the agency, I was a firey young whiper snapper and he was old and tired and ready to get out. He told everyone that he was an "engineer" but always neglected to tell them he was an engineer of chaos and mayhem...
Coincidentally, I had met his daughter, although I didn't know it at the time. Part of my cover was to pretend to be a community college student, and that is where I met her. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I couldn't take my eyes off her. But I noticed that there was something strange going on around her. Protective agents roaming about (I thought at first they were keeping an eye on me) and there was that one tme that the belltower on campus exploded. She wasn't around at the time but she usually would have been.
Anyhow, it came to pass that I was putting my secret agent moves on her and suddenly I am called in to command center for a discussion. It was just me and the old man. He told me to leave her alone, I don't want to get involved, and I told him I did and to stay out of it old man, and he, you know, he tried to play it cool, tried to use logic and shit on me. Explained that she already had a "boyfriend" and I explained that he wasn't much of a boyfriend (he agreed and we high fived, YEAH!!!) but he was easy to control and could betaken out at any time and noone would cry about it...
He told me, I am telling you, stay away from her.
Lick it, old man...
This started an epic battle that is still spoke about in whispers at the academy... for 3 days we fought, starting out with general name calling and challenges to our manlinesses... I bared my chest and he bared his, my pelt beat his pelt... He wagged his, well, you get the point... Random name calling turned to violence and after a while we were beating on each other with all sorts of shit, some of it capable of inflicting injury, some of it not... it was all very random.
Eventually I wore him down, he was tired and I finally found my opening and got a leg lock around his neck...
Let me have her, I shouted at him.
Never! he cried (boohoo, the big baby)
I will break your neck old man!!!
Go ahead!!! he sobbed through his tears.
I was this close (fingers held about this far apart) and could actually feel his neck bones starting to crumble, when I stopped... I let go and stood up. He layed on the ground bawling like a big puss.
I won't kill you old man.
WHY?!? he cried
Because I don't think I could go to your funeral with your daughter and be able to pretend that I was sad about the whole thing.
Then I walked away.
I was sent to ninja school at that point, because although they admired my tenacity my style was horrible. They hooked me up so I wouldn't embarrass them swinging like a girl anymore. The old man retired and I ended up hooking up with his daughter anyhow, cause I could have any girl I wanted, yo, so I took the best...
Every once in a while, since we are family now, we still pull some missions, like ripping the nuts off of crazy bastards that randomly call out Asshole in family restaurants.

Vacation Day 4: Thems storm clouds approachin'

Nothing happened today...
Really, pretty uneventful.
I may have just become numb to the pain, but I don't think so...
Lets see, there was this episode at the motel, I was packing the car and the ladies were in having their free continental breakfast, so I went in for some more coffee to power my day, you dig... so I am filling my cup and this chick comes up to me and is all like, hey, are you planning on eating breakfast and I was all like, no, just getting some more coffee, and she said, are you sure, and I am like, no, just getting some coffee, and she is all like, ok, cause if you are I would have to tell you that you need to put some shoes on... OK, so I told her twice that I wasn't, not sure why she felt the need to keep pushing it, or what she was prepared to do if I went and sat down without putting shoes on, call out the goons??? who knows... I decided she was just doing her job and this was the extent of her hemisphere of influence so I let it slide...
Then I was checking out, but I was not the only one checking out, if you know what I mean... Had the wife and kids with me and went up to the front desk and handed my keys to the chick behind the counter and I could tell she dug me, duh... so she was all like, did you enjoy your stay (meaning I would have enjoyed it if she had her way), I was like, sure... then she was all like, Hey, how far you goin? You know what she meant, it was obvious... I get this all the time, but not with the family there so I was not sure how to play it real cool you know... So I told her and she (I shit you not) raised her eyebrows and said "WoW, you are going "FAR", I bet it will take you "LONG" to get there" and she winked, or she had a wanky eye, not sure, but I was all about to reach over and slap her but by this time the family was outside so I just told her, OH, I will "MAKE" it!!! It's not too "FAR" for me!!! Yeah, take that...
Things are different in Montana... you know how we have Taco Time? Well they have Taco John... and at Taco Time they have Mexi-fries? At Taco Johns they have Potato Oles... for real... and at Taco Time you can Grande Size it? At Taco Johns you make it a large... also for real...
And check this out...
Met up with the inlaws in Miles City, it is/was so friggin hot, holy shit... Like the kind of hot where, after you have been sitting in a car with the air conditioning cranked all afternoon then you step out into the real world you are all like, holy shit... that hot... The inlaws got here like 5 minutes before us... It was cute, we had been on the same road, I-94 eastbound, and to them traffic was hellish, lots of cars going way fast (faster than their 80mph) but for me, it was like a wide open roadtrack where I can crank it out to 80+ and set the cruise control and take a nap. Funny world...
Dude, then we went to the 4B's restaurant, they are all over the place apparently, kinda like a low rent Denny's, dig that... So I was sitting next to the mom-in-law and she ordered the liver and onions... I about gagged, but held it in... Had the Ruben myself, another disappointment as Rubens go... we talked and ate, shit like that, then dig this, we were leaving and I noticed this total cooter sitting there in this booth all by himself, he just didn't look right, was talking to himself and as we walked by he yelled out "ASSHOLE"... I kept on walking cause of course he wasn't talking to me... We got to the door and the dad-in-law is all like, did you hear that? I told him I sure did and agreed with him that the dude should have his balls ripped off... We are going to pull a code black tonight and go find the guy and rip his balls off...
In the meantime the chirren are still screaming about something, probably tired, I'm not sure, I ain't no child psychologist or something... I think it has something to do with us being the retard family and the special parents have rubbed off to create special kids... It's fantastic... Next vacation is definately going to... ahh, who am I kidding, it will be just like this... sigh...

Night Falls over Day 3

  

Vacation Day 3: Big Sky Country

Day 1 is in the bucket... uh, Day 1 is in the barrel... Damn, what's that phrase... Can, Day 1 is in the can... dammit...
Ok, so we hit the road this morning at 7:30, which is FANTASTIC!!! Except my old lady said the plan was to be on the road at 5:30...WTF!?!?... really?
I don't remember that conversation, but no bigee... So, in discussing this with my PA last night, he wanted to know where we were planning on getting to on the first day, I told him Missoula, he said something about do you realize how far that is and I was like, yeah, and he was like, you better get rolling at the butt crack of dawn, and I was like, yeah, I know, I figure it will take 10 hours, and so he says that if we leave at 7 we will get there at 9... I was like, What?!> but, of course did not challenge his math skills (14 vs. 10 hours) as doing so would have resulted in a conversation on how fast you can drive and how it takes x+5 hours to get anywhere that I know will take less than the original amount of time... uh, yeah, anyhow, I avoided most of it, and DUDE!!! You know what? I actually made it in 9 hours! Take that old man!!! You want some of me? You want to take ME on? I can take you, I swear, I will kick your ass... Anyhow...
Leaving our place we hit the first 18 redlights possible, until I yelled GODDAMN!!! at the light, all green after that... We made it about an hour before the first meltdown. I think it had something to do with the change in altitude, someones ears were not popping as they should... and the sun was shining and we did not have glasses for all the little chirrens, and perhaps the screen was hard to see in the dvd player and we couldn't reach it from the front and it wasn't fair...
I swear, and I am going to try to repeat this as it occured, but this is the kind of stuff I had to deal with...
J: Get off my pillow F
F: I am not on your pillow
J: Yes you are!
F: No I'm not
J: Yes you ARRRRREEEEE!!!
F: Fine, take your goddamn pillow,
J: You are still on it
F: I am not and you aren't using it anyway.
J: FFFffffff
F: "SCREAM"
J: "SCREAM"
F: Take your pillow
J: Fine
F: You are always accusing me...
J: No I am not.
F: Aaahhhghgghg
ME (whispers): Goddamn!!!
There was more to it, but you get the idea... and this happened a couple times...
The littlest one puked, just a litte bit, completely missing the container we gave her and somehow missing most of herself, but getting in in the crack of her carseat... a nice little puddle.
I am sure there is plenty that I am glossing over, but I am a little tired right now...
Oh, heh, at one point after we had been busting down the road for some time my nose got all dry from the air conditioning and I was feeling a little stuffed... you know how you get... so I discretely kinda, uh, picked at my nose... didn't "pick" my nose, you understand, just kinda pawed at it, barely just brushed my finger in the general nosal direction, you dig, just to scratch... Anyhow, somehow, and I still don't understand how this happened, I ended up with some nose gold on my finger... I was doing close to 80 at this point... so I couldn't really roll the window down and flick it out into the world like a father teaching his child to swim... and I couldn't ask the charming wife for something to put my treasure in/on and I didn't have a collection started in the car so I was kinda out of options... so I drove for about 50 miles with a booger on my finger tip... for real!
Dude, you can do like 85 or so in Montana... you gotta do at least 80 so you don't stand out. Suhweeetttt... I closed my eyes and imagined I was actually cruising in a Camaro at one point, I realize now not to do this...
Went swimming, they have slides here, big old twisting slides...
Dude, I was going down the first time with the oldest daughter and we were hardly moving, she was sitting in my lap and I figured there was probably a weight thing going on, so I picked her up off my lap and pushed her down the slide ahead of me.... she looked at me like, what the hell are you doing, then she went flying down the slide. I was still barely moving and trying to figure out what I was doing wrong when I looked behind me and saw these 2 little kids coming right for me... I somehow got out of the way and they gave me a look as they went by... I decided to kick their asses when I finally got to the bottom... Anyhow, I searched back into my happy past, when I had actually done something like this before and remembered that there was something about laying back, so I did and moments later I was flying down the slide... Whoosshhh... I went, flew off the end of the slide... apparently my legs are lighter than my torso and soooo, my legs went up in the air and ther rest of me went down to the bottom... my back hit the bottom of the 3 foot pool, water went up my nose and under my eyelids... I came up smiling so as not to appear a total and complete knob... but I felt like some... knob... or something... heh... good times... my old lady went down the slide, I heard this screaming and I was like, what the hell is that, and suddenly my old lady comes flying out the end of this tube... she claims the scream is involuntary but necessary...
Uh, that s about all I got right now... tomorrow should be fun...

Vacation Day 2: Fork in the road, one leads to heaven and the other to Hell

Sigh,
Oh-kay... Power struggles are starting over who gets to make the decisions... it would be so simple if it was between me and the old lady, I would just get pouty for a while or she would kick my ass and we would get on with it, but the real power struggle is between child A and child B and me and child A and me and child B and me and child A and B...
I think it looks like this...
A vs. B, B vs. A,
A vs. Me, B vs. Me, A&B vs. Me, A vs. Me&B, B vs. Me&A
Current struggle = Swimming.
Now, If I say we are not going swimming, A&B will throw a hissy fit because they want to go... If I say we ARE going swimming then either A or B will throw a hissy fit because they do not want to go... We are currently in the "Let me take you swimming right now" challenge... A is already suited up and ready to roll, B refuses to go swimming until she is ready to go, and I quote, "I don't want to go until I want to go and I will tell you when I want to go in a little while"...
The only reason I really bring this up considering I am on vacation and should be above this is because I am on vacation and should be above this... but I have this need to maintain this happy cloud of happiness and/or denial... must not rock the boat, must maintain positive vibe, cannot start trip on bad note...
I figure if I start today with the happy-happy then we can roll right into tomorrow and leave the house early without any problems or crying or whining... Ain't that a hoot?
Ahh, it has really started now...
A is ready to go, B doesn't want to go still, decided she is going to stay out and play with her friend, I told them there are 2 options:
1) Lets go swimming and have a good time and shit...
2) Stay in and take care of business, cleaning, showering, packing, etc...
This resulted in crying and shouting and fighting... B still refusing to go swimming, so I haul both of them in and throw them in their room...
"Git to cleaning!!!" I gently suggest to them...
"SCREAM!!!" they reply.
"Shut your trap!!!" I offer up on a soft pillow.
"I don't want to!!!" retort them
"Rage and grumble and shout" counter-retort I...
WINNER!!!
They are currently busy little bees... I had to give final instructions not to speak to each other, and suprisingly it has been very quiet... I give it 5 minutes before someone comes out and tattles or they decide they are done and ready to go swimming... but it is too late, the chisel has dropped (cause I writ it in stone, you dig) and stuff...

Vacation Day: 1

Slept in today, clear up till 6am...
Got my day all planned out... gonna make pigs in a blanket chili dogs with sour cream and maybe some chili fries, except I will have to use the 3 half potatoes in the fridge from the other night... hows that for a plan...
This trip may not be so bad... I was looking at pictures online last night, and when the family was in the room I pretended to be looking at pictures of places for our trip (zing, just a tiny one, bad, uh, mechanics, not enough build up, you were supposed to think, oh never mind) and it turns out that the one place we are going (Medora) was a built by this crazy french asshole who everybody hated (duh) and smelled real bad (duh) and stuff... he married this rich chick, took her daddies money and built a town. Named it after her, her name was medora, duh...
He was going to raise cattle (free range) and then kill them and ship the meat back to Chicago... but he built the town in this place we like to call "badlands" which typically means that doing things here and hoping for success is not a good idea... so there was a drought, the cattle died, noone wanted them anyway cause they like grain fed cattle not free range stringy beef... so people lost money, dude killed a couple other ranchers, did some other unhappy type things and then left (funny, not sure what happened to his wife, she is only really mentioned when they say the town was named after her, hhmmnn)... I guess the only thing left is a smokestack from the old meat packing plant... that and some big ass house...
So that is cool, and the Medora Musical should be really funky... there is supposed to be this comedian dude there, some chinese acrobats, a shit load of old people, and a butt load of wholesome family values... Oh, and the pitchfork fondue... did I mention the old people?
Seems that in the summer months, when people go on vacation, the hip people usually migrate to the outer edges of the US, or at least up in the mountains or down in the gullies, and the old people head for the midwest... That is a huge generalization, but I am gonna roll with it... I expect many old people and hope to start a fight somewhere along the way about the government getting rid of the penny... I bet I can get some old people way agitated with that...
Anyhow... if I don't have anything to say tomorrow I will post something from the road, Missoula... Hotel has wifi, gotta do it...
Oh, click that friggin picture...

speaking of disgusting things...

OK, so I was heading for the bus yesterday, and typically, in the afternoon in SODO you get some interesting smells. Walking down Occidental first thing I often smell is the produce warehouse, very producey... Next, is sometimes the Pecos Pit, BBQ'y... Next is the Pho Cyclo, which is very Pho'y... I love smelling Pho Cyclo, I get so hungry as I walk by there... the next smell is usually, believe it or not, mail. Yep, have to go buy the mail place (dammit, I know they are usually called post offices, but this is more like a sorting center or something, screw you). I do not like the smell of mail... then the other BBQ place, I think they BBQ their stuff with old pallets and shit... they are not good BBQ... once I get past that, if I am lucky I get to smell a long ass train, throwing up dust and misc other crap, if I am not lucky the next smell I usually get is the garbage transfer station... Rabanco!!! this place has got to be about the worst smelling place in the world... I have never come so close to actually puking as I have going by Rabanco... then I get to smell misc traffic things, and this telephone pole, for some reason when I walk by this pole it always kicks me in the face...
I know, I know, WTF am I going on about... Boring!!!
OK, so yesterday (speaking of smells) I was walking along by the school admin building and there, laying in the grassy knoll (what the hell is that place called, between the sidewalk and the street, has grass, you know, damn) was this person. Standing next to this person was a cane with 4 prongs... It was Super Freaky, the cane was standing up and the dude was laying down... I was trying to figure out if he had came shuffling up, saw this spot in the grass, decided this was just the perfect spot, let go of his cane and then gently layed down... or if he came to this spot and collapsed...
What if he was dead? Should I shake him or something? That would be pretty freaky, dead dude laying by the side of the road, everyone just walking on by, not seeing a thing... but what real difference is there between him being dead or him being passed out drunk, or just generally being passed out... just a 200 pound piece of meat...
I had this general idea that I would pretend to not see anything... I would carry it to my grave, noone saw me seeing this guy and doing nothing, noone needs to know... so I got closer and closer and then I noticed the flies...
It was like a cloud of flies, all over this dude... I was like, holy shit!!! He IS dead!!! Flies are drawn to dead people... Then I thought, I wonder if he smells like death, you always hear that death has a specific smell... for real, that was my next thought... So I took a whiff... Funny, I thought, death smells like shit... like a LOT of poop... funny that...
Then I noticed that the flies were not ALL over the dude, just all over his ASS... Coindcidentally, there was POOP all over his ass... his pants were covered in shit... the back of his shirt was covered... it went all the way down to the back of his knees... I assume the dude had to have been walking when he did it, and it went running down the back of his legs and eventually he decided to take a nap and there he was...
I happened to be walking through a cloud of flies and shit stink... fantastic...
So, I get on the bus... there is this little game that goes on... I get on the bus and there in the front there are usually a couple seats to choose from... there is this old lady that I have a bit of history with, in a good way, she is cool... I can sit next to her, or I can sit next to the thick thighed scandinavian chick... they look at me all hopeful like... see, they ALL want me to sit next to them, they all fear the sweaty guy... If I sit next to them then the sweaty guy can't... but it is not as simple as that... see, if you leave any room, ANY room, could be 6", he will take it... he is so sweaty that he can slide into tiny situations... like a greased pig...
So first is sitting next to the woman, next is to set bags or purses or whatever in such a position that sweaty dude can't get in... then don't make eye contact when he gets on the bus (he looks like one of those crazy wild horses that find themselves in some sort of weird situation and they are all like crazy eyed and unstable... and crazy...
So I got on the bus and found a seat... there was this big old dude sitting on one end of the bench, so I sat next to him. I put my pack on the seat to the left of me and the thick thighed Scandinavian put her purse next to that, so there was NO room there... heh, we had him licked... the other gal was sitting accross from the scandinavian and there was no room next to her... so you would think we were set...
So we pulled up to the stop, we all looked out the front and could see the sweaty bastard putting his bike on the rack... he was extra sweaty today... he came galloping up into the bus, swung his might mustached head to the left and to the right, he was all dangly... he made like he was going to move on to the back of the bus... suddenly he backed up, turned in a circle, looked at all the possible spots he could sit (I swear there were better spots), calculated the angles to get his dangle into different spots and the amount of force required, and BAM!!! shoehorned his ass in between the two of us, me and the big dude...
Now the thing is, when you are all greased up to squeeze into a tight space, some of that grease ends up rubbing off on the parts that you are trying to squeeze into or between (betwixt)... eases the friction or something, but ultimately that is what allows you to get into spots you didn't think you would be able to get into, or something... So, when the dude inserted himself into the spot I got some of him on me... he takes up maximum room, so if he can squeeze his ass into the spot he will then spread out so his dangle can dangle and stuff...
I looked at the gals and they looked at me with these really strange looks, grateful looks to me for taking it for the team, grateful looks that he didn't sit next to them (2 different sort of looks) and revulsion at how he was all gross and pressed up against me (side to side, yo) and fear at the thought of what it would have been like if it had been them he was all up on... So yeah, they looked kinda all over the place... I kinda smiled at them, so they would think that I did it on purpose so they wouldn't have to, that is how cavalier I am...
I tried to make myself as small as possible, but doing that just gives him more room to spread... but if I hold my ground that means from the knee to the hip and then shoulder to elbow I am touching him, or if I move my arm forward that means this sweaty shoulder to elbow is pressed up into my side... and I was kinda hot already so was a little damp (misty maybe, a little dew perhaps) so our sweat would mingle... he was, of course, wearing a tank top, so the flow would all be off of him and onto me...
I decided to just find my center, go to my happy place (not my super happy place, not on the bus) and read my book and hope that time moves real fast and traffic is smooth flowing...
This worked pretty good, but the dude falls asleep... and since his mustache is so large, and he is wearing a bike helmet and sucks, his head falls forward, forcing his body to fall forward a bit, just enough so that the back of the bench is not supporting him so much anymore, which causes him to sway side to side... as he sways to one side his large noggin sways that way also... I took a look at him and saw that he was falling over onto the big dude next to him (not big like a biker, kinda big like Ron Jeremy, except I don't know about his dong, and he had really bad dandruff)...
Now when people reach a certain angle they suddenly kinda jolt awake... so he did this, made some noises like you would expect people to make when they wake up like that, noises I dislike...
He went back to sleep... slowly swayed toward the big dude again... the big dude did not look like he was enjoying this... then the bus slowed down a bit, forcing the dude to sway the other way, right towards me... I had my arm all cocked, holding my book, but my ninja training has trained me to be ready for violence at any moment so it was at the perfect angle of attack to crack him in the nose if he came too close... he came within milimeters of waking up bloody (if he woke up at all, I was kinda questioning the amount of force I wanted to use, or, not really wanted to, cause that was maximum force, but should use)(maximum force would have broken his nose, gave him a couple blacks eyes, whiplash because of the force and speed that his head would be forced backwards, strained muscles in the front of his neck (see force and speed) and maybe a concussion from hitting the back of his head on the glass of the window) but he woke up making the same sounds as before...
This didn't seem to phase him as he kept doing it over and over again... my pants were getting wet at the hip from him... I still had the smell of poo in my nose and it was mingling with unhappy sweat and anger and the blood was pumping in my temples...
Then I got off the bus at my stop and went home and everything was all better...
**
Dude, I am going to blog from the road, it is going to be so cool... I will take pictures and put them up and say stuff like, here is the hotel we are staying in, and, this is a deer we passed on the way and crap like that... and I will also say, it sure is hot here, but it is a different kind of hot, and how my butt is sore and back is sore and what the hell are we doing out here...
How exciting, eh???

hungry for taco's

There is a little Bingo tournie going on here at this place I spend all my time... Fantastic prizes, yo...
One of the prizes is a semi-perfect gay boyfriend... he is only semi perfect because he has body image issues, see, his member is soooo large that he is afraid to get intimate with anyone as they are often so intimidated that they run away screaming... he is sitting here on the desk with the other prizes (NO, I know, I should have said this up front, but the first prize is not ME... I know, the description was SO close, but I am NOT gay... for real), and he was kinda scared and excited at the same time... I was talking to him because, you see, he is wearing these cutoff jeans and his WANG kept peeking out so I told him, I said "Hey, but the horse back in the barn"... he laughed...
Another one of the prizes is going for donuts with Keyra Augustina... I am not sure who arranged this, but I think it is part of the plot to kill me... See, me and Keyra, we go way back... She needed some advice on how to shake her booty, and she had seen me and my old lady walkin' down the street and she assumed that there was no way that my old lady could shake her booty that well all natural like, so she figured I must have taught her (I didn't, my old lady has a naturally hypnotic booty shake)... I was deep undercover at the time and.. ahh, hell, just google Keyra Augustina...
Prizes today include: Stainless Steel Deep Fryer... DUDE!!! Throw in some Pork and I am sold...
A Vase... eh, I could put stuff in it I suppose
Those 2 lights from yesterday... I figure I will go for the Naughty/Nice one and can put it in the master bedroom (my room, yo)(Because I am the master) and my wife can turn the light on so I can plan my night... If it is naughty I will try not to smell too manly, or more manly, or something... if it is Nice, I will go to sleep... HOW CREATIVE, huh... I bet I was the first one to think of this... heh, it is a booty light... how funny...
**
But for real, we had some contests going on here, people won prizes if they could answer certain questions about things... I won a sandwich maker deal, gave it to the dude next to me... anywho, 2 of the prizes are these square lights, when you turn them on one side says naughty and the other says nice (HAHAHAH) and on the other one side says last call and the other says happy hour (Ooohhh)... so this chick won one of these... she took it and left, but came back a couple minutes later because it didn't work, she wanted to trade for the other one but wanted to make sure it worked, I was all like, uh, is there a bulb in it? She looked at me like I was crazy to expect her to know this... She plugged in the second one, and it didn't work either... I said again, I bet there is no light bulb... I whipped out my handy Dr. Snip pocket knife (Mrs. Chow, have you gotten your husband fixed yet? Jim needs to get snipped!!! heh) and used the unscrew attachment to unscrew the screws so the top was no longer screwed on (find the subliminal message in this sentence)... LO and BEHOLD!!! there was no bulb... duh... so, simple solution, I told her, you can just get yourself a bulb and screw it in (heh) and you will be good to go... She looked at me like I was vastly over estimating her mechanical skills... Serious, dude, she could not go through the effort required to study up on the fine art of screwing in a lightbulb (how many lesbians does it take to screw in a lightbulb? I don't know, but I wouldn't mind watching, heh)... So she left the lights and took a candle holder thing instead... I am ultimately concerned that I work with people that can't put a light bulb into a socket...
***
OK, you may not want to hear about this, so turn your monitor off for the next couple minutes...
Had to go to the can, and you know how I feel about that...
So I went creeping into the can and took a peak under the stalls and saw no feet, so I busted into the stall and locked it... figured I would break off a quick one and get out, just like that... so I was in mid, uh, dangle? and heard the door open and someone came in... I was all like, ok, just relax, find your center, you are alone in the universe, let it go... they went in the stall next to me, I lost it, busted it out so hard that I got a muscle cramp in my ass... serious... then someone else came in and I started freakin out, I was suddenly surrounded by people and was sitting there in my own stink and still had to, uh, clean the petals, no, thats what the ladies do, eh... uh... wipe, there, I said it... so I had to rip the paper, fold it neatly and clean the back beaver... like 3 times... damn... and there are people walking around like 2 or 3 feet away and there are cracks in the door and if you peeked in you could see me... so I finally worked through it and then I had to wash my hands cause there were witnesses, someone might recognize my shoes and notice that I left without washing my hands and tell people that I pooped and made a big stink and then didn't wash my hands and when I pooped I made grunting noises and there was a big plop... GAWD!!!
So I washed my hands and came back here and the charlie horse in my ass is slowly receading...
Ok, you can turn your monitor back on now...
***
I made reservations for this hotel in Missoula, has a big ass indoor pool with water slides and stuff... should be fun... I told the girls yesterday that I made reservations and they wanted to know if it was at the one with the big pool, etc... I was like, yeah, and they were like YAY!!! and I say, hey, dig this, we are going to need to bust ass to get there in time to enjoy the pool. It is like 500 miles away and we are going to need to leave at the buttcrack of dawn and shit... So remember this and don't bust my butt about wanting to stop and shit or we will never make it there in time to have fun and be happy, dammit...
I don't want to be one of those dudes with the watches and shit that have a time schedule and knows how many mph to average to get from point A to point B within x hours... I wanna be like the dad in Pete and Pete... with my elbow way out the window and a personalized license plate that says "kngOrd" and go skinny dipping in the pool with Christie Brinkley and my wife will call me Sparky...
***
I got "lei'ed" yesterday, HAHAHA!!! As part of our fiesta we had some sort of tiki smoothie super happy trivia game... I actually had to hand out plastic leis in the morning and there were a bunch left over so I hung them all over the friggin place, and I ended up wearing one all day, a red one... I think it was because this person who has a power of position over me is on the committee or something and felt this person expected my happy enjoyment of lei wearing...
So I took one home for my wife so she could get... uhh... yeah... so... uhh...

changing his pitch up...

Holy Shit, Dude...
I think someone is trying to kill me!!!
I was walking up to the busstop this morning and right where I usually stand there was this big red X... I thought, hey, that is kinda strange, and I was about to stand right in the middle of it, but I noticed my shoe was untied so I stopped and stooped down to tie it and WTF?!?! an ANVIL fell right onto the red X... I was all like, whew, that was close... didn't think much of it.
So then I get on the bus and was just sitting there, groovin to my Creative Zen Micro MP3 player (although it also plays WMA and WAV, but not AAC)... so I smelt something kinda burny and, of course, I figured it was the sausage or something, but it wasn't... I kinda looked around and noticed this smoke coming from under my seat... I looked and there was a big round bomb sitting there... What the hell??? I thought and was just about to reach for it when the bus started going up this hill and the bomb rolled to the back of the bus and then it BLEW UP (pow) and the whole back of the bus was gone... The driver kept going cause the people that sit in the back of the bus are kinda nasty and losing them is no big deal...
I really didn't make any connection until I got off the bus in Seattle. On the corner of 4th and Lander there was a funky looking like mime or something, had some wires and shit sticking out from him hear and there and was kinda all hurdy gurdy, doing the robot, jerkin and shakin... I tried to ignore him, fought my instincts to kill him on sight, and waited for the light to change to the little white walking dude...
So this freakin' mime comes up to me and is all miming (mimeing?) at me and was like making motions like I should pull his finger... now I love a good fart joke, who doesn't... but I hate mimes (and midgets, with their tiny little stubby fingers and big heads and stuck up attitudes, little bastards) so I just burned holes of hate into him... he was quite insistent, I turned up the heat a little bit and felt my hands turning to fists... luckily for him (and me, trying to lay off the killing for a while) the light changed and I crossed the street... Someone passed me going the other way and I heard them say something like, hey, a mime, and, you want me to pull your finger? then there was an explosion... I could feel the heat on the back of my neck but didn't bother turning around, just kinda marvelled at what a strange day it was so far... weird shit going down...
DUDE!!! then I was walking by the BBQ place and this arrow goes bwoinggg into the tree next to me...
Then all these holes appeared in the side of this building and a window broke and I swear I recognized the hiss of a 30.06 flying through the air around me...
There was a big hole in the sidewalk, I almost stepped in it, but this dude came riding his bike down the sidewalk (asshole bicyclists) and I moved out of the way and he went into the hole and disappeared, so I decided to avoid it...
Then this dude tried to deliver a telegraph to me but I figured he was a process server trying to serve me with a paternity suit or something (chicks are always trying to accuse me of knocking them up because of the way I swivel my hips and my spectacular package and shit... they WISH they could get my DNA in em... but I would have to charge for breeding services and there would probably be licenses and health inspections and signs about washing my hands before returning to work or something and I can't be bothered) so I gave him a karate chop to the jugular and left him laying there... besides, I thought I could smell a slight scent of strychnine...
Then, and then, I got to work and was riding up in the elevator and just stepped out on my floor when the car fell behind me a crashed in the basement...
Then I had to stop by the lavatory to drain the mighty python, amd DAMMIT there was a naked guy AND some dude taking a major dump AND bloody boogers on the wall by the urinal... One at a time this is not so hard to handle, but when you add all 3 it creates this negative chemical reaction, and nearly blew my head off...
I did a quick ninja roll out of the bathroom and decided to hold it a while while the stink cleared (in these instances, it is always the smell that has the biggest impact, they say the smell is our strongest sense and the one the we associate emotionally with, uh, things)...
Then this dude came in and he was all like, here, I was at Starbucks and they screwed up my order and gave it to me free, you want it?
I immdiately sprung into the flying monkey, whacked the coffee out of his hand with my right fist of fury and kicked him in the nuts with my left foot of fury and screamed at him in rage, YOU FUCKER!!! Who sent you here to kill me??? WHO?!?! but... but...
You see, when confronted with this devilish tool of destruction, well, instincts take over... Fight or flight is strong in me... well the fight part is, flight, sure, when I am flying at someone to rip their ass in two... so, yeah, I killed him. Its cool, really, don't worry too much about him, he died REAL quick...
The worse part? Well, I had the stench of poo shadowing my mind, now I have the stench of bad coffee shadowing my soul...

keeping it bottled up inside...

I have decided not to kill anyone for looking at me funny as I travel accross the country.
You always hear about the dudes that go on a multi-state killing spree, but you never really here about the multi-state not killing spree...
I am sure I will have to hold back, cause you know sometimes my fists just fly on their own...
I am going to be a kinder gentler dude on this trip... If someone does something that would normally warrant their death, like frontin' on me or something, I am gonna let 'em go easy, I will stop at burning holes of hate into them with my eyes... there will be a little discomfort, and maybe some nightmares, but they should recover nicely in a month or two, although some people suffer some sort of post traumatic stress so it could go on for years, but at least they ain't dead, and I will have the pleasure of knowing their torture goes on and on...
It will be a long 2 weeks... that may be the longest span that I can remember that I haven't bathed my hands in someones blood... I hope my skin doesn't get all dried out... I am going to take a ball peen hammer with me so I can continually pound on my nuckles and testicles so that they stay tough... gotta be ready to take a beating even if I ain't gonna dish one out... plus, if someone tries to provoke me I figure they can bust their nuckles on me and hurt themselves all they want and as long as I don't fight back I will still be honoring my intent...
That and avoiding high fructose corn syrup... and maybe just plain old corn syrup also... oh, and just to annoy the inlaws maybe corn in general... except indian corn... heh... Hope to eat some indian tacos while I am out there also... hhmmnn, tacos...
I hope to have some tacos before we go on our trip, because 2 weeks would be a long time to go without having any tacos...