The Grass is Bluer

Don't Be McHatin'

2010-04-17T19:03:00.001-07:00

Ok, not to put too fine a point on it, and at the behest of Cleavant Derrick, Kick-Ass kicked ass.

It's better than fricking ZOMBIELAND.

SEE it. See it NOW.

A puke-pile, by any other name...

2010-04-13T17:35:00.000-07:00

Ignoring the warnings of my betters, I foolishly forked a small piece of potato salad harking back from Easter, chewed it, and swallowed, and realized it had turned. Now, my head is pounding. Alas, I am past vomiting for relief, it is 'down in thar'.

I may not be going to work tomorrow.

Have I told you lately that I hate you?

2010-04-10T08:00:00.001-07:00

Psst, hey, Kentuckiana!

This one's for you.

There's this thing, that the other 49 states, and many nations throughout the inhabited earth do, using automobiles, that we like to call driving. Now, y'all have autos too, and I can only assume that you call what you do with them driving, but allow me to assure you, you aren't.

In point of fact, what you do with automobiles more closely resembles two monkeys fucking a football than it does driving. Here's a by-no-means all-inclusive list of examples.

Drivers use this device on the left side of the steering wheel called a turn signal to inform other drivers of their intent to perform maneuvers like changing lanes or turning left or right. You spurn these devices as if they were made of plague and coated in feces.
Drivers accelerate their vehicles in a relatively timely fashion to a velocity at or near the posted speed limit, and set their cruise control on the highway. You can't hold a steady speed with a gun to your heads, and the half of you that aren't going 15mph above the speed limit are going 5-10mph below it.
Drivers pay attention to the roads, and to signs along the road, informing them of upcoming exits, lane closures, and constructions effects, and take appropriate measures, like getting in the right lane if the left is closed ahead, or slowing down to 55mph in a work zone. You ignorant sister-raping father-blowers just tool along utterly oblivious of the road ahead, until you reach a point 500 or less feet from the impending effect you should have adjusted for a mile or two ago, and assume that every car that HAS done so will simply stand on the brakes and wave you on through because, apparently, you're the King Shit of Turd Isle, and rules don't apply to your dumb ass.
Truckers apparently lose all memory of proper driving techniques (or maybe it's just that the 60-day driving school dumb-shits are now so prevalent that the last remaining actual truckers are rarer than proverbial hen's teeth) as they cross the KY state line. This is obvious in little things they do, like driving in a manner more reminiscent of what someone driving a Ferrari Testerossa would do, rather than as someone at the helm of 80,000 pounds of steel and cargo could rightly be expected to. NEWS FLASH: You are NOT driving a Mustang, or an Impala, or anything other than the gigantic, slow-moving chunk of shit you're driving. It handles like a pig in shit, and accelerates like a river barge. If you're in a 70mph zone, are going 62mph, and the truck ahead of you is going 61mph, and there is a hill coming up, NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME TO PASS. WAIT UNTIL YOU GET OVER THE FUCKING HILL, MOUTH-BREATHER!! Those of us driving vehicles whose rate of acceleration is actually greater than 1mph per hour would not like to slam on our brakes and go off the road avoiding your ignorant dumb-shittery.

Now, there's other things too. As I said, this list is not at all complete. But if you could just work on this much, that would be dandy. In the meantime, have your sister sit up (and yes, that means your cock will no longer be in her mouth), turn off the cell-phone, beat your eleven-toed albino kids often enough that you don't need to yell at them in the car because they actually behave themselves, and generally try real hard not to suck.

DVD Wishlist

2010-02-06T21:49:00.000-08:00

Recent purchases have at least caught me up to recent releases. I now have the new Trek movie, the theatrical Watchmen (but I'd really like the Director's cut), Ironman, and of course, Zombieland.

Stuff I'd love to see roll up in the future... (and it still shocks me that I don't own these yet)

Indiana Jones trilogy (TRILOGY. There is no fourth IJ movie. Don't tell me there is, la la la la la, I can't hear you.)

the Back to the Future trilogy

Evolution, fun and funny.

The Christian Bale Batman movies, even though the Michael Keaton ones were WAY better, these were pretty darn good. (I have the MK ones.)

Ghostbusters III, er, I mean The Frighteners.

The original Nightmare on Elm Street series of movies. Teen slashers at their very finest.

Speaking of series, any seasons of The Simpsons, Family Guy, Robot Chicken, the Sci-Fi Battlestar Galactica run, The Flash, Sliders, X-files, or G-Force: Battle of the Planets (nostalgia).

The Hulk (the Ed Norton one, don't try telling me there's another, la la la la la, I can't hear you)

I'm sure there's more, but it's late and I am tired.

Ok, stop messing up MY joke...

2010-01-21T17:02:00.000-08:00

I made the mistake of putting my joke about 4 nuns online at some point in the past, and it has been retold (poorly, oh so very poorly) a few trillion times, and is pathetic.

Here is the original, funny, joke:

Four nuns are returning home from a charity event when their Volkswagen is crushed by a semi truck. They find themselves in Heaven, standing in the express lane off to the side (12 sins or less). This line is run by St. Timothy as Pete continues to hog the action at the main gate.

St. Timothy smiles at the sisters (imagine his voice in the rich Irish brogue I deliver this in verbally) and addresses them as a group:

"Ah, suren begorrah, tis a sad day indeed to greet four sisters of the cloth, all so young. I shall ask but one question of ye lasses." He addresses the first nun: "Sister, have you ever touched a man's penis?"

The nun blushes shyly and nods.

Timothy gently asks, "With what did ye touch it?"

The nun holds up her right hand, pauses, then raises her left.

Timothy shrugs slightly, and says, "Wash your hands in the font of holy water and enter the kingdom of Heaven. He turns to the second nun.

"Sister, same question. Have ye ever?"

She sighs and nods affirmatively.

"With what?" he asks in reply.

She motions to her rather full bosom.

Timothy lifts an eyebrow, gives a small shrug and rolls his eyes. "Bath your chest in the holy water and enter the kingdom of Heaven."

Now, while Timothy has been addressing the second sister, the third and fourth nuns have been holding a whispered argument. The third nun apparently loses, and they switch places.

Timothy, naturally curious about such an action, addresses his next question to the formerly fourth, and now third sister in line: "Why have ye taken your sister's rightful place in line?"

"There's no WAY I'm gargling that shit after she-" she jerks a thumb at the now fourth nun- "sits in it!"

In the future, I would appreciate that anyone telling this joke please not fuck it up. Also, yes, you HAVE to do Timothy's accent.

One Sweet Friggin' Suite...

2008-10-28T15:23:00.000-07:00

So, here I am in the Windy City, gettin' mah lern on fo' the company.

And I ain't exactly stayin' at the Motel 6...

It's the Wyndham.

Dude, it's friggin' suite.

Yay!! Free toy inside!!

2008-10-07T10:16:00.000-07:00

Ok all you Magic: the gathering lovers out there, fire up a new browser tab, and go to http://www.magicseteditor.sourceforge.net/, and download joy.

It's EVER so much fun!!!

'Cause It's America, Fuck Yeah!!

2008-03-21T08:23:00.000-07:00

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1031254/faq#.2.1.1

Less reading this drivel, more clicking the link!!

Oh friggin' yeah!! Lost Boys has a sequel!! W00tage Triumphant!!

R rated, lots of C-list hotties wearing less than the MPAA will allow, heavy metal soundtrack, and Coreys Feldman and Haim, which is exactly what a teen slasher vampire flick should be packed to the gunwales with.

The Frogg Brothers are Back, bloodsuckers beware!!!

I'm Looking Over, a Field of Clover...

2008-01-21T14:49:00.000-08:00

So, Super-Dependable Teen and I took in Cloverfield yesterday. And I want desperately to blog about it, but not to spoil it for anyone else, so I'm going to blog it, and I'm going to make sure there is nothing I'd consider a 'spoiler' when I'm done. So, here goes...

First off, as you'd know form the previews, teasers, and trailers, it's a monster movie. Secondly, and as noted firstly, it's shot 'Blair Witch' style, IE, 'real' people film the movie 'accidentally' on their minicam. A disclaimer: I've never seen Blair Witch. The concept held, and continues to hold, absolutely no interest for me whatsoever. I don't believe in ghosts, even less in witches, and could care less about a movie about a ghost of a witch that was filmed for less than $30k. Bunnyman's alluded movie about baloney vampires shot in a laundry hamper by 8-year-olds sounds positively enthralling beside it. So, other than knowing from the trailers that it was shot in similar fashion, there are no other comparisons to it that I can or would want to make.

Let me just say up front that yes, there are several plot holes, of such depth and breadth that Super-Dependable Teen and I saw fit to point them out and comment on them to each other, and that they served well to let me once again confidently say that Hollywood still knows shit-all about science-fiction as a genre, and this depresses me to no end.

But in spite of those problems, I think the movie was well-done for a monster movie, extremely well-done for a BW-style cinematography, and definitely worthy of seeing in theatre. It has good special effects that will suffer badly on the small screen, so see it as large as you can.

We both found ourselves wincing and urging the lead characters to safety as peril after peril imperiled them time and again. To me that means they kept the action moving almost fast enough to gloss over the plot holes, but the tires still dipped, and the lurch when they hit the far rim of the hole remianed a jarring impact each time. I shall now decide whether or not said holes constitute spoilers if discussed... ... ...

Plot Holes One and Two (not in order with other plot holes):
OK, in vaguest possible terms: one of the characters is impaled through the chest (and from the angle, almost certainly through the upper lobe of their left lung) on a piece of exposed re-rod* (eh, industry term, it's the metal bars they put inside concrete to strengthen it, a reinforcement rod, aka re-rod). Said character is 'rescued' by lifting them off the re-rod (which would of course cause all sorts of internal damage, unplug the hole from original impact, and kill them rapidly) and not only is no worse for wear from the ordeal, but is in fact seen sprinting away from danger in the next scene. I uneasily muttered 'adrenalin?', and tried hard not to think about it any more, but... arrrgh, I hate Hollywood. Do some sci-fi right you bastards!!

* Editor's Note: I am assured by Superwife and Bunnyman that re-rod is in fact known as no such thing, and is actually called rebar. Shrug. I've heard it called re-rod, but also heard rebar. Maybe both are valid, maybe not. So, anyway, impaled by rebar, running around fine a minute later.

Plot Hole Three:
I don't know what brand of camera was being used, but I want one. They're absolutely indestructible. And have a battery that never fails, even when you run the light. And the tapes run a good 90 minutes or more. Yeah, I'll take two in fact, don't even wrap 'em. I can't tell you what sorts of things this camera went through unscathed, but believe me, short of its own stasis field, I can't see how it remained functional.

Plot Holes Four and Five:
This one is dangerously close to a spoiler. Be warned. I'm going to change the color to match the background, so select this area to read it, just in case. This way, if it is a spoiler, it's your own fault for reading it.

One of the characters is bitten/slashed/gouged savagely by a lesser monster. This character does not go into shock, despite some impressive blood loss. The lesser monster and its buddies, whom the army has been hard-pressed to deal with with M-16 A1s and M-60s, are rather handily beaten off and back and away by four humans usings fists, feet, and a steel pipe.

Ok, that's about all. So, as usual, badly flawed, but, if you can shut down your higher analytical functions for 90 minutes, an altogether creepy romp.

Oh, and when you think the story is over, and you're just watching what didn't get taped over by the interesting parts, keep watching anyway. Especially the right side of the screen, far off in the background.

On the Road Again

2008-01-12T14:08:00.000-08:00

Hopefully, this is the last time for a long time.

Once again, two guys with a truck showed up at my place, loaded almost all of my heavy-ass shit (scratch that, they loaded ALL of my heavy-ass shit, all I did was some of the lighter stuff) into said truck, and carted it to my new address. 2.2 miles away. Their bosses charged me $300 for the service (which is deductible), and I tipped those gentlemen $20 each, and gave one of them my old entertainment center, as the laws of physics decreed that it could not, save by exertions of the Uncertainty Principle, be made to occupy my new home. A trip to Walmart yielded the last one in the store, which waits in my trunk for me to summon the strength to hoist it out and into my apartment. I even got a bargain on it, maybe.

Did I mention that I moved from one third-floor apartment to another third-floor apartment? And after swearing I'd never do it again. Eh, shows what my word is worth. Bunnyman and Superwife, and the older two Superkids have been helpful also. In fact it was Superwife who recommended my movers, and they showed up on time, did the job on schedule, and basically rocked in hearts and spades. Thanks again, Superwife.

Later--

Ok, was beaten savagely away from the Castle Anthrax mainframe in the middle of typing this by Bunnyman, but he's on the Wii now, so I'm safe.

We just got back from the Come Back Inn, an Italian eatery with a decidedly unexpected name. The Pasta Gorgonzola was, dare I say it (Oh dare, dare!!), magnifico. I'd never had it before, and wasn't sure what to expect, beyond gorgonzola likely being a 'strong cheese, given a name like that'. Fortuitously, I likes the strong cheese. Basically, it's Chicken Alfredo, but Alfredo met the gaze of Medusa, and turned to stone. And that's likely because there were no broccoli bushes for poor Al to hide behind. And that's good eatin'! Bunnyman had a roast beast sammich on ciabatta bread, which he requested special, and which turned out, apparently, to be a mistake, because he thought the ciabatta sucked. Superwife got a more traditional dish, meatballs and marinara, and it smelled divine, and I already knew the marinara was good from the breadsticks we had earlier. So we got that going for us, which is nice.

Anyhow, I got one (count them) trip left up my new stairs tonight, and I'm making it count. Several strapped satchels shall be strapped to my strapping form, and bootstrapped up the stairs so I can strap myself into the intrawebs at some point tomorrow.

But I ain't looking forward to that trip.

Swag! Booty!! Avast, ye scurvy scalywags, go get yer own!!

2007-12-25T18:14:00.000-08:00

Yarrrr!! Twas a proper chest o' dubloons I staggered home under the burden of!! Well, dubloons well-spent at any rate, on the likes of some fine booty indeed. A list o' sweet swag follows:

A World of Warcraft Raid calendar
A 'Best of' Stray Cats CD
A Tenth Edition booster of magic, the gold from which was Mirri, green 2/3 forestwalking legendary vigilant first striker, and one of the uncommons of which was a Femeref Archer. Oh yeah bitches.
A pair of Holy Hand Grenades of Antioch, cleverly strung on a creeper to form a bolo of Biblical proportions. One... Two... Five! (Three milord!) Three!!
Several stylin' Tees: Two Transformers, one old-school solid red and one new tarnished-style Autobots logo, a larger Green Lantern, a kickin' Spidey holo, and the piece de resistance, a custom jobber with the Ultimate WoW slayer-player from the South Park episode, with the oh-so gnarly legend, "How can you kill... that which has no life?"
A bottle of Maker's Mark. Oh yeah bitches... Oh yeah.
Several excellent additions to my sci-fi library, including a Harry Turtledove, a David Brin, and some others
Superwife's mom gave me, out of the blue (and thank you ma'am!) a tin of Planter's Honey-Roasted Peanuts, and some silk boxers, both in the same gift-bag. Insert your own joke here. (We did, and it was funny as hell, too.)
More epic Foghorn swag: another painting from Jojo, and another collector's glass from her sister Susie Q, and a Kleenex cover featuring that storied fowl of Dixie
Lots and lots o candy, some sugar-free, some not. This included a Tobler's Orange, which, you know, just frickin rocks out loud.
A toothbrush. See above.
Swedish Fucking Nuts. If you know what they are, you've nodded sagely and thought to yourself, 'Damn right Swedish Fucking Nuts. They're that fucking good!' The rest of you, well, you know how sometimes you just get sad for no discernable reason? Well, it's because you don't know what Swedish Nuts are, and that makes you sad from time to time. Someday you'll know, and then that won't happen anymore. You'll know exactly why you're sad, because you ate them all, and now you have none left.
Oh, oh yeah, and an unrated, extended version, WIDESCREEN* edition of the funniest movie of 2007 easily, and quite likely what will end up being the funniest movie of the 21st century, (the first decade of such almost for sure) SUPERBAD.

* For the love of Satan, people, if you're going to spend your hard-earned cash on a movie for me, always always ALWAYS get the widescreen version. I hate missing 40% of a movie because some moron decided to cut the edges off to fit on an NTSC screen. That's just a footer for public interest. I suggest you do that for anyone you buy a movie for, so that eventually, someone somewhere will get the hint and just stop releasing movies in any other format but widescreen, to save me the trouble of requesting it.

In addition to mere swag to bear home and bury, I alos got to spend oodles of quality time with Bunnyman, Superwife, and the Super-Kids, all of whom I can safely say enjoyed the rather lame present I bought them. Seeing the Super-Kids light up when they tore through the wrapping was probably the best part of the morning.

Slaying Treebeard's Cousin

2007-12-09T19:57:00.000-08:00

It was a long and bloody battle, but in the end, Man and Saw defeated Ent (Tree, Root, Leaf, and Branch).

Bunnyman and I were tasked on Saturday with finding, securing, transporting, and setting up the Castle Anthrax Annual Christmas Tree. The first three of those tasks we performed flawlessly and almost entirely without comment with the aid of Local Boy Scout Troop #42. Or should I say, we stood around with hands in pockets while said boy scouts and their scoutmaster did all the hard work, and I finished all that by driving it slowly back to Castle Anthrax, much to the consternation of River City's automobile-equipped.

It was only once we arrived at Castle Anthrax that the trouble began, but oh what trouble it was! Our adversary was a Blue Spruce, measuring well over six feet tall, weighing in at four sextillion tons, and completely armored above and below with razor-sharp thorn-like spikes amusingly misnomered as 'needles'. I wisely donned my $250 Leather Armor and Gauntlets of Yard Work before approaching our foe, which was wise indeed, as it's D&D stats include 15' of reach, 100 attacks for 1d4+2 damage each, a Base Attack Bonus of +14, and the Large and In Charge feat. In WoE stats, that comes out to Att 30 (with the ability to attack up to 100 times with no penalties to attack, defense, or fumble), Defense 54, Initiative 30, Damage 1d4+2, and a Damage Resistance of 240. (Hereafter, stats are given in D&D / WoE format.)

Bunnyman and I, being level 3 Commoners, were clearly in over our heads, as we were armed only with my Tool Bag of Electrical Controls Work / Class II Tinker's Kit, and a Tinfoil Tree Stand -2 of Enfeeblement / Cursed Tinfoil Tree Stand of The Gods Will Laugh at You.

Our foe proceeded to sped the next two hours beating us to a standstill, until finally, beaten and bloody, we retreated to the phone, to call in Superwife as reinforcements. Superwife was on her way back to Castle Anthrax with Super-Dependable Teen anyway, so she arrived, cast her spell of Martha's Transformation / Transform into Martha, and led us back into the fray, now being an impressive level 15 Aristocrat / Master Decorator (level 10 of Magistracy, Intuition, Willpower, and General Competence at Everything). Thus emboldened, Bunnyman and I charged in, renewed in spirit, and confident of victory.

And our foe performed his deadliest trick, Quickened Tree Stand Destruction / essence-powered Tree Stand Destruction. Our Tinfoil Tree Stand -2 of Enfeeblement / Cursed Tinfoil Tree Stand of The Gods Will Laugh at You promptly crumpled under this onslaught, setting even Superwife back on her heels momentarily. And then she bade us go forth on a holy quest for a Saw of Mighty Cutting and a Tree Stand of Puissance.

Daunted and fearful, we rode forth from Castle Anthrax to the Place of Many Shops, and bravely entered the outdoor store there. After reading the signs in the dirt (and maybe one or two hanging from bars near aisle fronts, we were sorta stumped, until Bunnyman espied and accosted a native guide, who pointed us to the objects of our quest, or at least, to the resting places of such things.

Saws were easy to obtain, there being many, and it was fortunate we went there first, for it could have been necessary to lay about us with it to obtain our second quest item, the Tree Stand of Puissance. There was but a single one of these storied relics remaining, and we pounced upon it like a starving man on a sausage inna biscuit.

Triumphantly, we bore our prizes back to Castle Anthrax, and, guided in the ancient rites by Martha/Superwife, we finally slew our foe, and mounted it.

So, you know, there's another tree standing indoors in another house this year. And man was it pissed.

And that is fricking it. I ain't lifting another finger to decorate for the rest of the season, possibly for the remainder of my days.

Oh, the weather outside's delightful...

2007-12-02T05:45:00.000-08:00

In Kentucky, November is a fine month for working outdoors. Not a whole lot going on any differently (other than the early parts of my weekdays starting earlier...) eh, here's a proper breakdown...

0600 The alarm goes off. Whistling cheerfully, I shut it off, hop spryly and eagerly out of bed, and perform my morning ablutions.

0645 Check to make sure my keys are in pocket or hand, and depart Casa Mio for work. That involves turning left out of my driveway, turning left at the end of the block, and going straight for about a mile, hitting an on-ramp, the going straight for 6 miles, hitting an off-ramp, going straight for a mile, and turning left into the parking lot. About 10-20 minutes, depending on traffic.

0715 With coffee in hand, I pile my gear (ok, put my little black toolbag and my lunchbag in the back of my partner's truck cab) into the truck, and we begin an hour-long drive to northern mid-Kentucky. Along the way, we chat (both of us are fundamentalist Christians, so there's a lot of choir-preaching, and thus far we've managed to avoid coming to blows over the minute details of our differences in beliefs), drink coffee, and listen to bluegrass on satellite 62, or maybe 65, I fergit which.

0800-0830 (depending on jobsite and traffic) We arrive at work, already having planned where to go first to do what.

5 minutes later: We discover that the contractors have bottlenecked us again, either by failing to perform something important we absolutely needed done, or by half-assing it so it doesn't help us at all. I repeat the old soldier's adage: "No plan of battle ever survives first contact with the enemy." We shrug and get to work.

Several hours later: In spite of Murphy's best efforts, we've gotten some significant amount of work done, and more of our commitment to this job has been fulfilled to contract specifications. We pile into the truck, and return to HQ, where I transfer to my auto.

40 minutes later: Home again, or maybe I braved I64 only long enough to face the dread nightmare that is the Watterson Expressway on-ramp to get to Castle Anthrax.

~10:30: Bedtime for bozo.

Mmmm, mmm, good!

2007-11-19T19:43:00.000-08:00

That is one tasty fish!

Gotta go. I need to get up early for work y'all.

A healthy shade of Azure...

2007-11-08T11:57:00.001-08:00

So, I got a call from the 'fish' I mentioned in the last post. You know, that nibble that turned into a sho-nuff bite?

Yeah, that fish is now alongside the boat, and the net is ready. And it's a significant raise from my job up north.

In a state with a lower cost of livng.

I just totally broke the poverty line!!

I'm Lower Middle Class!!

It's a dream come true!!

Casting the Bones

2007-10-03T09:44:00.000-07:00

Not just a cool black enchant, it's also an ancient method of divining the future. And there's a light at the end of my jobless tunnel.

And no, in point of fact it does NOT appear to be an oncoming train, but is in fact the lantern held aloft by the kindly brakeman who spotted me stuck on the rail in one of the tunnel cameras, and is walking down to assist me, having warned via radio the oncoming freight train to slow to 30mph, which will give him ample time to free me and for us to be on our way since it is some miles distant yet, thank you very much you pessimistic person you.

Damn I can draft a run-on sentence like there's no tomorrow... That's a real skill you know.

Yeah, I've been availing myself of Superwife's extensive network of connections in the Kentuckiana HVAC, building, contracting, and conrols industries locally, canvassing for jobs, and had hit a sort of calm backwater, drifitng listlessly, when all of a sudden, I got the above-mentioned nibble. Which, as it turns out, is a sho-nuff bite, and it's actually swimming parallel to and in the same direction as the boat I'm fishing from. So I got that going for me, which is nice.

Heh, speaking of availing myself of Superwife's anything, I just got done availing myself of some more of the fantastic vegetable beef soup she sent home with me... Sunday?, I think. Dang that is some gooooooooooood soup!! It's like, V8 for vegetable stock, and chopped up chunks of what seems almost to be steak, and all sorts of wonderful veggies, including cauliflower (which was a new but by no means an unwelcome addition to soup for me) and of course celery, without which soup can only dwell in darkness and despair. She served it with grilled cheese, but I ate mine with a ham and cheese, which was ok. Yeah, I should prolly mention the grilled cheese sandwiches, or at least, the things that pass for grilled cheese down here.

Ok, so, you start with your basic white bread. Now, most normal folks'll butter it, toss a slice of cheese in there, butter the outside, and toss it on the griddle. Contemptible fools! Superwife's grilled cheese sandwiches spit on you! She put mayo on the inside, which spreads the heat better, making for an evener melt, and LOADS cheese into the middle. Then she tosses the outside-buttered sammidges onto a buttered griddle, and joy ensues.

I am so dying of heart disease at or before 50, and I say bully for me.

In other odds strangenesses and news tidbits, I found a bottle of unopened champaigne, with real Frenchie words on it and its foil seal intact, lying in the grass outside my apartment building Sunday morning. Not wanting kids to get it and get in trouble, I put it in my trunk in a safe spot, and wound up giving it to Teh Hawt Gal in the Tallest Tower of Castle Anthrax, ie the rather splendid lady living upstairs from Superwife and Bunnyman (whom some may know as Doctor Alfonse 'Doc' Nebula). She was rather pleased with the serendipitous champaigne that fate had gifted her. Has goodwill for me accrued? Who can say? I think she'd be a great friend to hang out with, but I'm not sure we're couples material. I'm keeping my options open.

See, it's because I are a g-knee-us

2007-09-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

Heh, Day... lessee, carry the three... Thirty-One, of the Age of Aquarius.

And the friggin' air conditioning is on the fritz, AGAIN. Thankfully, today was a blissfully cool and low-humidity day of a somewhat chilly 85dF. It's down to a barely sub-arctic 70 or so now. But I think it's time to close the bathroom window and fire up the window unit I installed last week or so.

You, dear readers, may be wondering what's been occupying my time lo these thirty-odd days. Well, mainly, I've been hanging out at Bunnyman and Superwife's place, getting schooled by the Superkids at everything from Magic: The Gathering to the finer points of watching Skanks of Love, (Some MTV unreality show about various hos vying to be the latest ho George Michaels drills-- no, really, that's really what it's about.).

Which reminds me of that Drug-Free America commercial, where the two stoners are hanging out smoking dope in an upstairs room, and you hear the one guy's mom yell up from below: "Did you even look for a job today?"

No. No I fricking well did not. My rent is paid up through the end of Octogre, I got plenty of dough in the bank for now, and cost of living is way lower here. The various promising leads I had to check out just didn't pan out. And that's ok. I'm working without a net, for once in my life, and yeah, it's a little scary, but it's also kinda cool. And I really enjoy setting my own hours. This, this is a very, very, VERY well-earned vacation as far as I am concerned.

I will find a job. It may not be as good as the one at SU was, and if not, so what? At least I finally took action of my own instead of reacting to what life saw fit to give me.

Now, lest you think life in River City is all doom and gloom, let me tell you how a typical (school) day in the current life goes:

10AM: I condescend to get out of bed. Somedays, this results in an immediate hygeine ritual and dressing. Most days it does not. Over the course of the next hour, I go potty a few times, eat something, check e-mail, and either work on a deck or watch a DVD. I just finished watching the entire D&D Animated Series from the early 80s. That took most of a week.

Noonish: I contemplate what to do next, having finished either a DVD, or my latest deck tunings and constructions. It being noonish, I consider the possibility of lunch, and all its sordid possibilities. Perhaps I cook something, more likely I decide not to heat the place up given how hot it is out. The computer reminds me that I have internets and WoW, and so I fiddle with that for a while.

1:30PM: If I haven't already, it's time enough for hygeine and dressing. That completed, I head over to Castle Anthrax, bringing my decks. There Bunnyman and I test each other in the crucible of mortal combat in various ways.

3PM: Super-Dependable Teen arrives soon after I do on weeks when her bio-dad does not work hard to firmly cement her distaste for his presence in her life in her mind, and joins our contests of skill and strength often as not. She is a doughty warrior teen woman, and often bests me.

4:30-5PM: Bunnyman and I journey to Super-Adorable Kid's school to pick her up, and return her to Castle Anthrax. She regales us on the way home with tales of 7-year-oldness, which pleases us mightily. Often, other minor chores of shoppingstance occur on this sojourn. Upon our return, I boot up the X-Box and load my save of KOTOR1.

~6PM: Superwife returns to Castle Anthrax from her day of soul-crushing tedium, and Bunnyman attends to her.

~7:30PM: The dinner gong is struck, and we rush headlong into the kitchen to fight for scraps of whatever divinely inspired commestibles have been whipped up from the ether by that most puissant kitchen-sage, Superwife. We all, singly and in groups, again deplore her cruel and harsh refusal to bring tears of joy to the eyes of all Kentuckianans by opening a resturaunt. Truly, truly, yea verily I say unto thee, hast thou not partaken of the sublime gustatorial delights and gastronomical perfections that flow from Superwife's kitchen like proverbial manna from Heaven itself, thou cans't not possibly ken the depths of thy privance and suffering.

8PM: Belching contentedly, the inhabitants of Castle Anthrax and their guests (occasionally Colon or D-Wreck will seek to better themselves by accompanying Super-Dependable Teen or Super-Drama Teen (respectively) and join me on the oh-so-priveliged guest list) entertain themselves in various manners, often taking the form of team Magic games, sometimes other venues offer.

9PM: By now, on school nights, other guests have departed. Super-Adorable Kid is snugged, storied, and sleepified, or at least that process is begun in earnest. The dish-monster churns and gurgles contentedly in the corner, licking the crumbs and gravy-stains off the crockery lucky enough to have been annointed by Superwife's culinary delights that night. Super-Dependable Teen prepares for her own slumber, whilst Super-Drama Teen continues to manage her drama online via various chat agencies.

~9:30PM: Deadwood on DVD. Al Swearingen begins to grow on me, and his illness brings a swell of sympathy to my heart. Well, I could go on for some time about the doings in Deadwood, but I won't.

~10:30PM: I take my leave.

11PM: I log onto WoW and seek some West-coast people LFTank to raise my SU guild tank to 70 so he can properly serve with distinction.

3AM: Bedtime for this bozo. Unless I have something better to do.

My New Kentucky Home

2007-08-23T10:53:00.000-07:00

My stuff arrived on Tuesday, how about that? Naturally, the day started off in a heavy downpour, which rapidly gave way to thunderstorms. There seems to be a trend building here, where if I'm involved in something that can be adversely affected by rain, it rains. Apparently I am Louisville's new rainmaker.

All Hail the Rain King!!

Fortunately, the guy who was supposed to help the driver of the moving van unload it quit. I say fortunately because it took a couple hours to both find a replacement and unload some stuff for another delivery, and by the time all of that happened, the skies over Louisville had reluctantly given way to a distinct lack of precipitation.

And now much of my stuff is stacked neatly in boxes, much else is set up and being used (like my bed, futon, and fans). I've only unpacked a few dishes, just enough to get by, since I'll be moving again soon.

Oh yay.

Auuuuuggghhhhh!

2007-08-19T19:24:00.000-07:00

Good grief!! Thanks to a small mix-up on my lease papers, my cable, phone, and INTERNET won't be hooked up until the TWENTY-FREAKING-EIGHTH!!! Auuuuugggggghhhhhh!!!

But, on the bright side, I won't have the bulk of my things until Wednesday or Thursday anyway, so I guess it isn't that big of a deal, right?

I'm trying not to hyperventilate...

Tomorrow is my interview at Trane. If you're superstitious, wish me luck, burn incense, chant, or whatever floats your particular boat. And thank you for your support.

Holy Crap...

2007-08-17T05:18:00.001-07:00

... I'm homeless!
... This trip is taking forever
... These drivers in Ohia suck
... These drivers in Kentucky literally have no idea what a blinking amber light on one side of my car's rear means
... I'm here, and no longer homeless!

... my stuff is gonna get here WHEN!!! Augggghhhhh!!!

... it was a smart move to put my suit in the car.

My God, has it been that long?

2007-08-10T14:06:00.000-07:00

So, just shy of 7 years working at Syracuse University, keeping college coeds warm at night, and now I've gone and given notice, this being the last day of employment, and I'm traipsing ~680 miles SW to Louisville, KY, to start fresh.

What am I, crazy?!?

Who can say? Anyhow, it's a done deal. My current landlord is showing the apartment, I've paid my new landlords (at Aquarius Apartments), my utes are getting cancelled on the 17th, and Mayflower is showing up to take my worldly possessions and truck 'em down.

This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. So let the sun shine! Wish me luck.