Thursday, March 31, 2005

Rewind

As I sit here listening to more great rock music, I remembered it was about this time last year I had the best and worst time in awhile. I had a decent job, not anything I would get rich at but, I could almost pay my bills. I could go to the doctor if I got sick. I go spend a little money on music, films, nights out with the occasional adult beverage or if I was so inclined, some herbal enchantment.

I remember the snow melting, almost being gone. The air was perfumed with the strong scent of springs arrival. Things felt alive more so than they had in a long, long time. Nights were warm enough for a light jacket and days you could get by with a sweater. I had been dating a great girl. She was intelligent, funny, had a great personality, was taller than me, decent taste in music and liked and accepted me for the Jackass I am. During the time we date, we spend just the right amount of time together. Went out couple of nights a week, called her to say, "hi" and all of that puppy dog and ice cream stuff. We worked together for the same company, in the same building, but due to responsibilities...were never able to talk at work. This may or may not have been a good thing.

I was very careful with her, she was very cool and I managed to let my guard down and begin to actually like her. She invited me to a party at her Uncle's house, out in the sticks. Party was really me and three of her friends. House was something out of a dream complete with jacuzzi and jaguar in the garage. Her best friend was my friend's sister. I hadn't seen her in a long time and it was cool to catch up. She had gone through some rough shit and I was glad to see she made it through ok.

After a night of drinking, laughing and bad 80's tunes everyone went home except for me and the best friend. I overheard Jaime talking about sleeping arrangements and how,"if she was lucky, I would chose to sleep with her instead of the couch." Best friend had told me Jaime was really into me earlier, and the Harp provided me with whatever liquid courage I needed. Later on, lights went out and we were in bed, together.

It was as PG-rated as it could get and I was happy with that. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was waiting to pounce on her, that I had been biding my time and was now going in for the kill. We talked into the wee hours of the morning and then some. We holed up in bed until, the dog and best friend needed to go out. Then it was the backyard a trip to Dunkin' Donuts. Coffee and bedhead for breakfast and I would catch her occasionally staring at me doe-eyed. Things were good and the rest of the weekend was filled with more drinks, conversations, board games, movies and sleepovers.

After an entire weekend of being a perfect gentleman, I kissed her goodnight and left. I didn't remember what happiness felt like and I was loving getting reacquainted with it. Jaime made my job, Monday mornings and the Yankees all seem like things that didn't matter. I walked into work after the weekend from cloud nine and opened up my email. There was the usual corporate bs and some fwds from co-workers, and then an email from Jaime with the subject: We Need To Talk

The coffee I was drinking didn't help to alleviate the mule kick to my stomach. I stared blankly at the screen for what seemed like three days. I didn't even open the message. I walked over to her cube, waited for her to finish a call and told her I would call her when I got out. She looked nervous and relieved at the same time.

Long story short, she couldn't do this anymore. When I asked what this was, she wasn't sure but that she didn't want to go on dating. She apologized for not telling me earlier and that she was really, really sorry. She still wanted to be friends and the whole deal but she couldn't date me any more. I said I was shocked and of course it was nothing I had done. I agreed to the friendship since she hinted at being able to figure shit out and maybe have another go at it. (Which looking back was probably just keep me from blowing up/ melting down on the phone) I thanked her for her honesty or whatever and said I would see her at work.

I hung up and she never talked to me again.

She never talked, emailed or looked at me again.

She never talked to anyone I was friends with at work either.

Even though she is just another of the endless list of really cool chicks, who have totally fucked with my head & self confidence, I still miss and wish her well.

Even if she is a lunatic that missed the boat on this piece of prime real estate.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Have a sense of humor....please!

C.Monks is D.Man

Holy Heartattack...

Its obvious we have no respect for lives of other people be it outside of the United States or otherwise. Our government sticks its nose in places it doesn't belong all the time without thinking twice about it. Iraq is probably the prime example but as of late the Terry Schiavo case has become more and more prominant. If the United States government had the respect and value of life they say they do, then there would be missions of, "Shock and Awe, Slash and Burn, Rape and Piliage, etc."

We should thank the higher power that this country's fastest growing problem is obesity. I am not one to sit and point fingers but this week, with the weather being warmer and driving around more I have to be somewhat concerned not for the country, not for health insurance companies but for the actual people of these United States.

Let me start by saying, "I always have and probably always will love fast food. It's quick, it's tasty and I don't even have to get out of my car to get it." With the advances in credit/debit card processing we no longer have to go to the bank to get money, we can just hand over the card and have Ronald or Wendy or His Highness, the Burger King slide our card and ring the Taco Bell for us. This week, even with my insane sense of curiosity, I had to say, enough is enough." This latest offering from The Jan Companies, Burger King, has been recommended to be, "shared with friends" by the American Medical Association. This recommendation is for people who consider themselves to be in decent health. For myself, and a few select others in this country, this Ultimate Omelette, is just a bad decision no matter what time of day it is.

Granted there are worse things I could think of to eat, with more calories, more fat, more taste but saying that eating an entire cheesecake from this place just a no-brainer. On the radio on the way home from work today, I heard that nutritionists and doctors are starting to wonder if the fast food industry are in cahoots with the American Association of Cardio and Thoracic Surgeons. I don't think this is too far fetched of an idea, although I would like to believe that we have all not sold our souls to the Devil.

In other less apocalyptic news, I picked up the latest release from these guys as well as Purple from true rockers I am enjoying both immensely. If gas was not eleventy-billion dollars a gallon, one might go for a ride and listen to some good tunes in the nice weather. Or they could stay home and drink diet soda and play video games instead.

Who knows?

Talk to me....



"Forgive them Father, they know not what they do." - J.C.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Wrong...

Ever wake up so hungover, you didn't think you'd live long enough to get that first glass of water in you? Yeah, that's how my day started and I was only three minutes late for work.

Thursday, March 24, 2005


GOTCHA!!!

N is also for nice, naughty, neck, nibble and nosey.

A Little Drinky-poo

I am out of coffee, milk and soda. This is a matter of national security. Off to the store I go!

I should be sleeping...

but it's my weekend and I need to make the most of it. Went into work today for the mandatory meeting. Of course no one showed up, cause it was mandatory. So myself and a few others sat around with El Capitan and shot the breeze. An hour at time and a half is and hour at time and a half.

Came home watched Saved with Jeanna Malone, Macaulay, Mandy Moore and that fucking kid from Almost Famous. Decent flick, not life changing, but funny in spots. I went to college with kids like that...talk about not living in reality. I rip on them and yet they are all more successful than I am. I guess success is how you define it. Anyway I look at it, I still have a way to go.

Short nap after movie
woke up starving
well not starving cause I have never been without food
but feeling hungry
craving something I could not put my finger on
until I read craigslist
talk of a new shawarma joint on the east side
search for phone # for new shawarma joint
no dice.

Put on pants, hoodie and jacket walk out the door
it's fucking snowing again
you've got to be kidding me
no one on the road, they fear blizzards
no batteries, bread or milk on store shelves.

On the east side, no place to park...as usual
three streets up and one over and I am walking in heavy snow
snow is cold, my clothes provide little protection
find restaurant happy to find it is not closing anytime soon
guy behind counter is friendly, lets me sample falafel...mmm tasty
I'm sold

Older woman comes in out of cold, jumps ahead of me and starts to bark an order
she has no manners but I have no where to be
I signal to guy behind counter it's no big deal, to take her order
she must be very hungry, she orders a lot of food
maybe for family, for husband or friend
maybe she fills holes with food, like I do.

There are scars around both sides of her mouth
I make an inappropriate joke to myself and chuckle
I know about ridicule and scold myself
she turns to leave and mumbles something to me
"I'm sorry" I say having not heard her
she asks if I would like to have my cards read
she has a shop right next door
I am a sucker for this sort of thing
however I am also thrifty
I tell her I am all set and pray she didn't hear the comment I made to myself.

Nice guy prepares my food, chicken shawarma & falafel
we chat briefly he asks me how I found him
craigslist I say
he had no idea
we both laugh at our good fortune
I grab a diet vanilla cherry Dr. Pepper (which I will find to not taste any different from normal Diet Dr. Pepper) and head home

I want to take pictures with my digital camera
but it's snowing like a bitch
cameras not even paid for yet
food is getting cold
I have things to do at home
like eat, get fat, watch tv

I pray the snow does not stick
I'm tired of Winter
of cold
of having to dig out before going to work
I curse the fates, the New York Yankees and Old Man Winter for being a clumbsy mother fucker and slipping only to fall and die in New England
the plows outside my window are louder than the music in my head phones
it's 2:30 and I'm thinking of going out again
I need a cup of coffee and there is no milk
Tim Horton's would be nice but at this point it would be easier to drive to Hawaii

I hope you are all well.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Made it to the weekend...

Agency training is much like college. You spend the majority of your time learning things you will never actually use in the field. With all the advanced training I have gone through, the hand to hand combat, weapons and de-escalation techniques, you would think I would have to have some heavy duty shit running through my head at all times. This is also a falsehood.

The most important thing I have to remember all day long is...to be on time.

With five minutes to spare, I jumped in the F1. My three minute commute and today there was no time for a coffee stop...(DAMN YOU, GEORGE WASHINGTON!!!) Since the first day of Spring, my mind has switched to thoughts of warmer temperatures, sunshine and not having to scrape the fucking windshield to be able to see. The F1 backed out of hangar 1 and prepared for take off. The morning sun hit the aforementioned frost and illuminated the cockpit like a searchlight on a diamond. I was for all intensive purposes blind. The F1 was still to cool for defrosters to be helpful. Not yet off the runway, I had three minutes before I was supposed to be at the Agency.

"Fuck Winter, fuck frost, fuck shoveling, fuck this state, I'm not even supposed to live here anymore." many more curses were uttered gentle readers but being the consummate gentleman, I will spare you. I lit the fires and burnt the tires and took off with extremely limited visibility. It was on like Donkey Kong. I cussed out people double parked on sidestreets, yakking about nothing on cellphones, as their suburban all-terrain entitlement vehicles feasted on gas and killed American soldiers for no good reason. Weaving in and out of traffic that may or may not have been there, my windshield began to clear...just in time for me to see a cop coming up hard on my tail.

Agency training has taught me how to be casual in hot situations. However due to lack of sleep, and a general disdain for most law enforcement agents, I whipped the ponies and took off like a fat kid for the dessert table. Officer Jellydonut let me get about 200 yards away before he decided to throw his lights on and begin pursuit. I had about 500 yards before I'd be able to pull into Agency grounds. Rearview mirror told me he ment business. He was closing to fast and I was gonna have to make a run for it.

He played with the sirens as if I didn't see the obscene lights on the top of his car. I had neither the time nor desire to deal with his high school hero, trying to relive the glory days, bullshit. The F1 smelled my apprehension and gripped the road even tighter. 250 yards...he's four blocks away...200 yards...2 and 1/2 blocks away...75 yards...1 block...20 yards...up my ass and looks like I'm gonna get nailed. "Fuck this" I yelled and kept on driving. I wheeled into the Agency parking lot. Jellydonut was still in hot pursuit.

I shut the F1 down and stepped out. Jellydonut pulled up along side of me and down came his window. He started off with something calm and professional like, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I had no obligation to speak to him but wanted to make him feel like an even bigger idiot. I flashed him my badge and waved bye-bye like a small child. I can't say I've ever seen anyone clentch their jaw with as much force as this malcontent. The passenger window of the cruiser rose and I watched the towns finest punch the steering wheel and scream as he drove away.

I took small comfort in the fact I had made it to work and managed to make someone else's day that much brighter. Unfortunately, El Capitan was at the door to greet me and ball me out for being two minutes late. My watch read 7:01.

I swear sometimes it seems like the world has been completely overrun by savages.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Breakfast on the other side of the universe...

Last night #2 and I went out to bask in the easy breeze of conversation. He took me to a new bar, a cool bar, a very small, secluded, quiet bar. We were able to talk to each other across a table and drink tasty beers, which would later come back to haunt me. There were maybe 3 other people in the bar the whole time we were there and the music was very ultra lounge. Lauren, our waitress was both very attractive and attentive and made sure we were never without the proper libations.

#2 asked me my opinion on his long time girlfriend and I told him, "I don't really know her and that the reason she is not a fan favorite, is that we all think she hates us." That explanation seemed to clear up some long-standing tension. It seems #2's girlfriend felt we hated her and therefore communication was always strained at best.

Conversation continued and we spoke about my love life or lack thereof. I regaled #2 with tales of a co-worker, Hot Marlene, and how I was trying to come up with a strategy to have all of the stars and planets align. The more we talked about it, the more I realized I have some deep seeded self esteem and confidence issues. #2's sister is about 4 credits shy of her Ph.d in psychology and I was joking about scheduling a session. I told him I couldn't go after Hot Marlene cause I have no business hitting on someone that hot. He told me I was crazy and ordered more beers.

We drank long into the night and when the bar was closed, we stepped out into the night air new men. The weights had been lifted from our shoulders and the work week could continue. I had to be in work in a mere four hours but suggested a late night breakfast @ Denny's. We jumped in the F1 and screwed down 95 in search of chocolate milk and greasy eggs. We arrived at Denny's and realized we're officially old as the late night clientele resembled the cantina scene from the first Star Wars movie.

A stroke of good luck was granted to us as we walked in and there were many people waiting but since we were but two, we were seated immediately. Our waitress came over and took our chocolate milk / ultimate omelette order and told us she would be right back. She wasn't fucking kidding around cause she walked back into the kitchen and I shit you not, two minutes later, came back with two large chocolate milks and two ultimate omelettes. She placed the food down in front of us and #2 and I looked at the food, looked at her, looked at the kitchen. "Will there be anything else?" she asked. #2 was silent. "I think we're all set" I said still dumbfounded by the fact we had been in the restaurant only five minutes and we had drinks and hot food in front of us.

She left the table and I looked directly at #2, "Dude, is it you or did we just order this food?" Contemplating putting fork to food he looked up at me, "Yeah I was thinking the same thing just now." We both chuckled a bit. "What the fuck is going on in that kitchen you think?" I said and unwrapped my utensils. "Something very bad but I'm too hungry to give a shit right now." and with that #2 cut into his food and began eating. I tentatively watched the first few bites go down. I drank my milk and fiddled around with napkins and condiments. #2 was still alive and I figured it was ok to eat. We eat almost in silence marveling at the cast of characters around us. It was truly awesome. It was as though we traveled back in time to 1993 and no one else seemed to notice.

We finished out milks, paid the bill and jumped back in the F1 to go home. I dropped #2 off and made it home in time to be able to get two and a half solid hours of sleep. When my alarm went off I woke and tried to brush the taste of yak shit out of my mouth. I was convinced I would vomit either before or on the way to work. I also had the sensation of someone shoving a fire hydrant up my ass in the middle of the night. Luckily, I managed to get to the Agency on time, even after stopping for a much needed iced coffee @ Dunkin Donuts, without shitting or vomiting all over myself. It was a long day at work, but I felt like more of a man for having stayed out and lived life the night before.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

mmmmDrink!!!


Yes, I am trying to compensate for something w/ my huge glass.

I had an awesome post here but blogger ate it. So here I sit at close to three in the fucking morning typing about the hilariousness or lack thereof which is my life.

Sometimes being a super-hero is not anywhere near as rewarding as you'd think. Tuesday, by the end of my shift, I was at my wits end and just wanted to return to Jackass Central to relax. I jumped in the F1 by 3:10 and drove at breakneck speeds home. By 3:15, I was home, in shorts, and curled up in the fetal position, trying to enjoy a nap. My eyes snapped open at 4:45. I yawned, farted and grabbed the remote to hang out with my best friend, Dr. Phil. When I saw nothing but a black screen and heard nothing, I grimaced in disappointment and frustration. My cable had been shut off. Paychecks, from Superhero Central aka the Agency, sometimes get lost and therefore bills sometimes get overlooked or paid late.

Apparently the sweet people at Cox Cable felt the need to deny me my NBC, MTV and IFC. Thanks, douchebags.

As a result, I have been watching movies and reading for the last two days. Not that this is a bad thing, if anything, it's getting me ready for when I cancel my cable all together. Luckily for me, a Hollywood Video opened up less than a mile from my house. They are running a .99 cent grand opening special. With no idiot box, how could I resist? I went and picked up: Harold & Kumar go to White Castle, Ray, Ladder 49 & Anchorman. Out of those titles, Harold & Kumar was the standout favorite. Now before you get your pants in a bunch, I thought Ray was a great flick, I just felt it was a tad long. Ladder 49 on the other hand...SUCKED OUT LOUD!!!

I'm listening to Ani DiFranco's, Reveling and Reckoning and this dual disc set is fantastic. I highly recommend it. I'm also in love with Snow Patrol's, Final Straw. I was hesitant at first but that shit is good. When I have a spare $43, I'll go buy it.

The Funky Professor and I were supposed to go and shoot pool tonight, however, Ms. Professor was feeling a bit under the weather. The Professor and I are either going to hang out during the day tomorrow or shoot pool at night. Personally, I would rather do something during the day tomorrow as it is Paddy's Day. Every douchebag and their brother is going to be out tomorrow night.

Don't get me wrong, I love Paddy's as much as the next guy but I'm a spud-eating, Mic 365 and don't need an excuse to wear green and be proud. It's the fucking greaseballs without any green blood in them, who will be wearing their U2 t-shirts, while they sing, "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and make fucking drunken assholes out of themselves. Those are the people I would rather do without tomorrow night.

Has anyone seen my brother? If so, tell him to call my mom, and if he gets a chance me.

Erin Go Bragh!

Slainte!



Monday, March 14, 2005

Bladdy bladdy blah...

It's nearly midnight on a Sunday and the trash is not on the curb. I sit here clackity-clacking while most good peoples are sleeping and getting ready to do battle with that motherfucker known as Monday.

I listen to Rage Against the Machine and pretend like I have something to say. Most days I go looking for blogs who say something. Blogs that say something, anything, it doesn't have to be anything that will save the world, or change a life, although those are refreshing and always welcome. I just try and discover like minds with different voices. People who realize every day is a struggle but aren't afraid to admit it. People who can laugh at themselves in one sentence and spit enough venom in the next to make Howard Stern blush.

Let me just say right here, "I hate what Howard Stern does." I have never been a supporter and probably never will be. I think his defending free speech is good but other then that I feel he is deplorable human being. I also know this view is not popular with people in my age group and because of free speech, I can tell them if they don't like my opinion, to go fuck themselves.

I will never pull a punch.

I caught a quick glance of something on AOHell. Rosie O has a blog. I was curious. I wanted to see what the deal was. If it was going to be all puppy dogs and ice cream, g-rated, exciting like statistics class. I was pleasantly surprised. I won't link here cause I tend to talk about some questionable material and use some naughty language from time to time. I would hate to get someone in trouble because of my mouth, but its been known to happen.

Anyway, Rosie's blog is cool. I like the way she writes. It's fresh and interesting. She has something to say and things to talk about. Her words reach out and grab you, make you pay attention. I was surprised and excited at the same time. Emotions pour forth without being angsty like a 1oth grader's livejournal. Rosie is keeping it real, and while I may not be championing the same causes, the fact she is not all, "CLICK THIS LINK AND BUY MY SHIT..." means something to me. She's on the Def Poetry meets your cool, lesbian aunt tip and I can jive with that.

Even if Def Poetry is just another corporate wolf masquerading in bohemian sheep's clothes.

Wake Up...

I was in the middle of a dream, there was a fish hook through two of my fingers when my cell phone rang. txt msg. "I never get these." I thought, as my phone flipped open.

1 new msg.

"What about chicks w/dicks?"

What? Jesus, I'm still sleeping. I need to wake up. My fingers fumbled over the keys of the phone,

"I have no idea about chix w/ dicks."

My thoughts returned to freeing myself from the snares of fish hooks through my fingers and being scolded by grandparents long since passed.

and again...

1 new msg.

"You send Chicks w/ dicks to me."

Fuck, I'm awake and this IS happening. I looked at the source of the msg and realized it was the co-worker to hot for me to talk to. Trying to shake the cobwebs loose as quickly as possible, fingers punched in another reply:

I'm being framed. (send)

and I waited several minutes. No reply. I could have called her but much like conversations via IM, you never really know what the mood or intentions are on the other end. I pondered a few more seconds and began to fall back to sleep.

1 new msg.

"Who are you?"

Part of me wanted to type out that I was in her phone contacts and she should figure it out, but I didn't feel like being that big of an asshole considering there was possible sexual harrassment on the table.

"Jackass" (send) and several more minutes passed. I chuckled a bit as I thought of my friend thinking about how many different friends she has who go by the moniker of Jackass.

1 new msg.

"Jackass Jimmy?" apparently I was mistaken in thinking I was the only one. In addition to myself, she is friends with a Jackass Fred and a Jackass Ronald.

"Yes, Jackass Jimmy." (send)

"why did you send me chicks w/ dicks?"

"I didn't" (send)

"It says you did @ 9:50 on Friday night."

" I was drinking w/ you then." (send)
"I'm gonna call you." (send)

"Look, I know this is weird and all and the msg came from my phone but I was talking and drinking with you then. Someone (who will remain nameless) borrowed my jacket, with my phone in it and probably thought it would be funny to send that to you."

"Oh, I don't care. I was just curious as to why you were telling me this. I'm not mad. What are you doing?"

"I was dead ass asleep when you msg'd me. In fact, when I looked at my phone, I thought I was still dreaming."

"Oh...I'm sorry for waking you! I didn't mean to, I just saw this weird shit on my phone and wanted to get to the bottom of it. You should try to go back to sleep now."

"You should come over and cuddle, that would help a great deal."

"Now you ARE dreaming!"

"Can't fault a guy for trying can you?"

Laughing, "No, I guess not."

"I'll see you in the am, goodnight."

"night"

I fought a losing battle with the Sandman for about 20 minutes. Thoughts of my dream, my day at work, and the co-worker so hot I have no business speaking to, txt msg'ing me. I yawned and slipped back into the Land of Nod, with a smile on my face.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Dumbass...

In my pursuit of power and glory, of becoming the quintessential weekend warrior, of the girl who I have no business going after nor, will she ever be mine, I forgot one small thing.

I forgot about the medicine.

That's why I was voted operative of the week at the Agency this week, cause out of the 3,247,925 things I am forced to remember on a daily basis, I forget the most important. Most, if not all of you are probably still in the dark as to what I am speaking about so I will be a good chap and illuminate you. I have a certain condition which forces me to take several medications on a daily basis. The sole job of one of these meds is to open up my bloodstream and make my body more susceptible to the other meds I take, thus making the other med more effective. Having had this condition for several years, my body has become somewhat desensitized to my meds thus my need for the aforementioned med.

Yesterday I was voted operative of the week by my fellow agents. This dubious honor includes a handshake, a pat on the back and not having to buy a goddamned drink all night at our local post work hang-out. Since having health insurance is a relatively new thing for me, I have been skipping my needed meds so I can do fun things like pay rent and car insurance. Now that I have insurance and can afford all of the meds I need, my body is still readjusting to life in the medicated lane. Normally, I am a soda drinkin' fool. However, during our post work bonding sessions, I will have a few with my fellow workers.

Last night was the first time I have combined booze and my medication since being able to afford it again. Bad, bad move.

I had no idea the beast would be coming for me like he was because I felt no different than I normally do. I drank. I got a buzz on. I got a little drunk. I sobered up. I went to taco bell. I went home. I woke up about 4am and knew immediately I was in trouble. In addition to not being able to stand up straight cause my equilibrium was so fucked up, I couldn't ever remember being more dehydrated in my entire life.

I stumbled to the bathroom, relieved myself of whatever water I had left in me and when dust started coming out of my unit, the severity of my problem dawned on me. I sat on the throne and pondered a solution. I was confident I would be able to come up with something great, cause on the throne is where I do my best work. Water. Water was the blaring neon on the horizon. The 900 foot mirage of Jesus to the withered traveller lost like Moses in the desert. Like consolation to a fucking stupid asshole who went drinking on medication.

I ambled to the kitchen and found the biggest glass with the largest handle I could and commenced the assault on hangover # 3,247. As I turned the faucet on, I felt my stomach switch gears and throw it into reverse. "Brain, this is the stomach. We're not really ready to commence rehydration at this point." I grimmance and swallowed hard. The junk I ate last night was making another run, and I'm not sure it was headed for the boarder.

"Stomach, this is the Brain, rehydration is critical at this point. We need to commence immediatly. Negative, Brain re-H2O is a no-go. I repeat a no-go. Stomach, Brain, this is JackassJimmy, we need to work together on this to get all systems go. Stomach, prepare for beginning stages of re-hydration. Brain, relax with the idea of drinking 200 gallons of water immediately. that is all Jackass Jimmy OUT."

That was at 7am. My world stopped spinning out of control about 3pm. I managed to get down some skinned cucumber slices and a glass of milk to coat what was left of the inside of my stomach. Around 6, there was more milk and a few chips ahoy. It's almost 9 now and I am drinking more water, still feeling sub-human and kicking myself in the ass for once again putting myself through the ringer for some chick I have no business hitting on.

--END TRANSMISSION--

Thursday, March 10, 2005

At the moment...

I can't log in to my local library's website. This is making me somewhat angry. Although I have tons to read and need another book like a hole in the head, I want to be able to access my list of books.

It fucking snowed again. This joke is not even funny anymore. If it doesn't start warming up soon, I may fall into some kind of depression. Just a few days where it's not a slap in the face to go outside.

My feet are like ice cubes, so I am taking a book and going to bed. Sometimes words are better company than people.

Go Red Sox!

Monday, March 07, 2005

I Just Don't Know.

So, I was able to pull off the green hair incident without too much trouble. Work was simply work today. No more of a pain in the ass than usual. Actually, some agents and guests of the Agency were able to sit down and play texas hold em' for a good portion of the morning. Looking forward to getting paid thursday, I have some things to take care of.

Speaking of being broke...

Can someone tell me what Darius "Hootie" Rucker spent all of his money on? Enough money so he has to whore himself out to BURGER KING?!?!? Many times I will be watching tv or be chillaxing at the pub, and there will inevitably be someone who thinks they are Celine Dion and will try do outdo her in karaoke. I often feel sympathy for these people because it is obvious they have no idea how big of an asshole they are making of themselves. When I saw the new Burger King commercial, the one wear Mr. Rucker sings the praises of a chicken sandwich, I wanted to fall through the floor in embarrassment.

Here is a guy who fronted a big band. Ok, they were not huge but big enough to be on MTV and for every hayseed's mama to enjoy hearin' them boys sing n play the geetar. Now we find our hero walking through fast food fantasy land, dressed like Cletus effin' Ranchero, strumming his guitar and bending over in front of Burger Royalty.

Not since I realized that Lawrence Fishburn dressed up as, "Cowboy Curtis" on Pee-Wee's Playhouse, have I felt such shame and pity for someone in the entertainment field. Ok, I have to stop or I am actually going to feel bad.

Sometimes when it's late at night, and I'm all alone, I think about llamas.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

I lost a bet.

Well...sort of. At any rate, I will be coloring my hair electric green. Joy. With the my head being the same color as a green jolly rancher, at least I will be more apt to take 2-3 showers a day.

In other news...

My blood sugar has been horrendous as of late. For those of you not in the know, I am diabetic. I have been running on fumes lately so, if I have been overly cranky, I semi-apologize. Diabetes sucks. If you are a fatty, stop eatin' double quarter pounders and go do something.

Maybe if you're lucky, you can avoid the evil. Maybe if you're lucky, I will post pics of my green hair.

Maybe.

Friday, March 04, 2005


Hopefully, the weather will warm up soon. I'm getting tired of looking at piles and piles of the white shit.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

I should be working right now, but I switched shifts.

Yesterday was one I just wanted to hit the reset button on. It began somewhat later than normal, a respectable 8am. However, after a delicious breakfast sandwich from dunkin donuts, I commenced a day long campaign of housework. This evil was brought on by the plaster man coming to give me an estimate on what it was going to cost to fix the water damage to my ceilings. So by 2:30, all necessary cleaning was done and a very tired and impatient jackass sat down to wait for Plasterman. On Wednesday I called Plasterman, and he told me he would come by after 3pm. He had both my home and cell #’s and didn’t bother to call. I FUCKING HATE THAT SHIT. If you can’t make an appointment, just call. I would have been perfectly fine knowing he was not coming. Instead, I sat around and grew more and more pissed off cause no one was giving me the 411.

While waiting, I remembered the guy who works in the house while I am at work, told me there was a strong smell of gas in the basement, and that he shut off the gas to the stove. So, I called the gas company and told them what was up. They told me to leave the house, leave it unlocked and take a cell phone with me. I figured since I forgot to call yesterday, I wasn’t in any eminent danger. Within 15 minutes, an old Irish guy was here to close the case. Not only was there no leak, but also McGasman put in a new meter in 20 minutes. Screw you, Plasterman. McGasman mentioned in passing had I been wearing a Yankees hat, he would have let the house burn down to the ground and not lost a wink of sleep. We swapped tales of last year’s awesome Red Sox World Championship season and he was on his way.

By 6:00 I was thoroughly pissed off and late for my best friend’s birthday party. I stopped at the LQ on the way over and picked up a nice bottle of Glenfiddich. My boy likes him some scotch but as he is the sole provider for wifey and two young’uns, he is not able to treat himself often. Most of the time a large, plastic bottle of Seagram’s 7 is all he drinks…..* BLECH * As if my day was not long and hard enough, best friend’s sister was at the party. We just don’t mix and she is about as subtle as sandpaper on the inside of your ass. Of course best friend told her I was having work done and that Plasterman didn’t show up. Of course she is dating a plaster guy, the best one in the state, who can do the job faster, and more importantly cheaper. Of course the guy I chose, sucks and she hears complaints all the time from everyone on his work. Of course he is a hard worker and as honest as the trees are tall. Of course he’s an alcoholic, ex-con with three teeth in his head, who was swilling beers in best friend’s driveway, in his van, like they were never going to make it again, “just in case there was nothing cold to drink at the party.”

Of course…

I just wanted to relax. To be honest I was not in the mood to be around other people and it showed. Wifey asked me if there was anything she could get me cause I, “looked like I was very angry.” I thanked her, and filled her in on the situation. She was very sympathetic. Best friend and I hung out alone for a bit and put #2 to bed. If nothing else, being with best friend and wifey’s kids can always make me feel better. We rejoined the party and gratefully sis had to leave cause she was going to be sick. She managed to yak in the driveway cause Con-Air was too busy drinking to take care of her. Once they left, the stress level dropped considerably.

Best friend tried out his new scotch with his father in law and they were both very appreciative. There were laughs and ha-ha’s and in the end I was the last one there. I think I was too tired to go home but I made it without crashing into anything so thank heaven’s for little miracles. Screw you, Plasterman.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Yeah...Right!

El Capitan called ths morning. I love caller ID. My spider sense was tingling and normally I would never answer the phone on my day off, but curiosity got the best of me.

Me: Yeah.
El Capitan: Good morning, how are you?
Me: It's 9am, my day off and I'm still drunk from last night. What's up?
EC: (Not knowing how to respond to the aforementioned info) Oh..ha..ha. Gee, firing it up during the week huh?
Me: I work all weekend remember. Wait..no, you wouldn't. You have weekends off. Like I said. It's my day off, what's up?
EC: Oh, I was just calling to let you know you need to be here for 3 today.
Me: Why?
EC: Well, it seems administration is running a seminar on, Compassionately Controlling Agressive/Opositional/Defiant Outbursts and they want all agents to attend.
Me: So this is to learn how to compassionately kick someone's ass?
EC: (nervous) Ha...ha, in a manner of speaking.
Me: Is it mandatory?
EC: Well, I think it would be great if all agents from J-Unit would go.
Me: Is it mandatory?
EC: That's not really the point. The point is...
Me: Let me stop you right there. This seminar is not mandatory. You want the agents on the unit to go cause it will make you look good. This gets you a bigger raise and elevated status with God and the Arch Angels. The only thing this does for me is inconvenience me, take two hours out of my weekend that I don't get overtime for and take away my two days in a row I don't have to be there.
EC: *Sigh* I still think its a great opportunity and wish you would come.
Me: I hear you but let's be realistic. The guests of the Agency don't give a damn about our welfare. Seeing as how I was assaulted over 6 times last month, me spending some of my extremely valuable, free time learning how to be more compassionate to people who have told me to and I quote, "go fuck my mother." is not high on my list of priorities. Sorry Cap, I'm all set with that. I've already pulled a double this week, I'm done.
EC: Where's the team spirit?
Me: It's in the bags of ice I have had to put on my eyes, nose and family jewels over the past month cause some people don't do their job.
EC: What are you saying?
Me: Let's just say there are plenty of people who talk the talk but can't walk to save their lives.
EC: Are you referring to me?
Me: I'm not singling anyone out boss, but you should know, I'm not the only agent who feels this way.
EC: (flustered) Well...this is news to me! Looks like we'll have to have a unit staff meeting tomorrow! Is 3 good for you?
Me: I'm off tomorrow as well. You make the schedule, you know that. I'm going to go back to bed. See you on Friday. Click.

El Capitan called back approximately an hour later. Again we discussed why it is unfair that I have to come in during my weekend for administrative bullshit. He sees my point, but won't go on the record agreeing with me. It's a tough position to be in, and I can sympathize with him but I never want to be someone's puppet again. The only ones I get down on my knees for are a very cool hippie dude who walked the middle east about 2000 years ago, preaching peace and love and groovy times and very special ladies, who show no signs of entitlement and ask nicely.

Word is bond...

Destroy the Machines

I cannot overstate how much I hate weakness in any form. We all suffer from it in some way, myself included. Whether it is alcohol, drugs, food, smurf figurines or whatever, there is something you at one point or another feel powerless over.

The fact some poor souls rearrange their calendars and social engagements be it with friends or family to watch, "American Idol" makes me want to kill people. I could let it slide the first season as the concept was new, even if it did fit into the beat dead-horse genre of reality tv. However this being the 4th or 5th season or whatever, it just makes me sick to think people glue themselves to the television for this shit. It's not good television. It's not entertaining and for those who watch it just to see peoples hopes and dreams get dashed or to see how badly some people sing, grow the fuck up. That shit was old in high school and if there has been no forward mental progress for you since then, do us all a favor and dine on the bullet.

There are great books to be read, wonderful films to see, inspiring conversations to have, frothy beers to be drank, geez there are so many things to do other than sit around and waste your life with those fucking half-wits. If after your weekly dose of Idol you feel bad cause you are fat and ate a box of Twinkies during the show...NEWSFLASH: STOP BINGE EATING AND TAKE A FUCKING WALK! Don't contribute to your own misery by sitting down in front of the demon with the most fattening of foods, stuff your face and expect things to be cool. Have some sense.

Sorry, I can't go on a date tonight, American Idol is on. If I ever found out someone had cancelled plans with me to watch American Idol, Hitler would have nothing on me. People spend to much time watching other people live life and then whining about how much theirs sucks. Go figure. I loved MTV's the Real World...loved it, but at some point I had to say enough is enough. I had to shut the tv off, open the blinds and let it life. I'm not saying everyone should look up to me cause I was able to rip the nipple out of my mouth and go cold turkey, but if you honestly think about all the time you waste watching stupid shit, you should be very upset with yourselves.

-- END PONTIFICATION --