Ew. I just got some blog on me.

From the land of Oz, to the land of "Ah Shit, it's HOT!"

2006-08-02T13:38:00.000-07:00

I've landed in Hotlanta.

I haven't had much time to post here lately. Literally, from about the day of my last post, to now, I've either been:

- without internet
- moving
- settling
- working like crazy

Sorry for the delay. However, I've been taking notes about things to blog about, so hopefully I won't end up with any writer's block any time soon.

I went from what I was doing in Wichita, and in about a week, had a new job in Atlanta. I now work for the Senior VP of Programming, and help oversee a region that includes Washington DC/Baltimore, down to Miami, and over to Louisiana. It's pretty sweet. A stupidly overwhelming amount of work, but all is beginning to settle down.

My move was as bullshit as a move usually is. Movers didn't show up on time. They broke shit. It was $1500 more than I expected. They lost shit. They found it after I threatened to owned their company before I was done. Fuckin' drama.

Once I got my stuff on the move, I had to move myself, of course. Moving me wasn't much of a big deal. Moving my cat...now THAT was something to experience. Turns out I have a cat that gets carsick if she's in the car too long. So, and unplanned trip to the vet required sedation for the rest of the trip. Ever seen a drunk cat? Ever seen a cat's third eyelid? One of the weirdest experiences of my life. And all she could do was look at me with that, "what the fuck did you do to me?" look.

I'm pretty settled now, thank goodness. And no, I wasn't a fucking liar. I just didn't expect to be transplanted 1000 miles in such a short period of time. It was crazy. And I neglected my blog as a result.

More to come...

Cheers.

The Wedding Weekend, Part 3

2006-06-28T13:01:00.000-07:00

Part 3 - Saturday.

The plan was to meet up in my room at 11am. Sharp. Probably the biggest surprise of the whole weekend? The fact that all the guys in the wedding showed up on time. Believe me. I was as surprised as you were.

Next was getting ready in my room, and proceeding to the church at 12:30 for pictures. Much like the night before, it was hot. Not a neat kinda hot, like "glistening supermodel" hot. "Sweaty fat-guy-balls" hot. Not good.

It's funny how hours of pictures actually don't even feel like that on such a big day. I was dreading it, but it was far from painful.

Yes, I cried during the ceremony. Yes, I cried when I wished my mom could've been there to see it. Yes, I'm starting to cry now as I write this. But it's a good cry.

After the wedding, we boarded a trolley to take us to the reception. We loaded the Walmart styrofoam coolers (yee-haw!) with booze and made our way. Of course, it was only, like, 6 blocks to the reception...lots of work for little return...

As is customary with wedding receptions, the wedding party waited until the rest of the guests arrived before making our grand entrance. But there was a catch. As we waited in the lobby of the adjacent hotel...and drank...we got scolded by the front desk because we were drinking booze that we didn't buy there. Asses.

We proceeded up to my room, as it was the...uh...nearest to us, I guess. Styrofoam coolers and all. We drank for about another 45 minues, and then left the coolers there while we made our way to the party.

The reception, for me, was quite a blur. Not because I was hammered. Well...not JUST because I was hammered. Mostly because I saw pretty much every person I'd ever grown up with and around. It was crazy. Every time I turned around, it was a person I knew. Nuts, I tell you. But awesome.

The part I remember the most was...well...I won't bore you with the details. It was basically a tribute to my mom, with 300 people crammed onto a dancefloor the size of my bedroom, everyone crying and laughing. It was the most surreal moment of my life. I start to shake just thinking about it.

At the risk of this getting too long, I'll paraphrase the next few events:

- Pizzle hits on young in-law cousins
- young in-law cousins are COMPLETELY infatuated with Pizzle.
- Pizzle and Dennis take said cousins out after the reception to a club, and proceed to rip the place to shreds.
- Dennis gets into a drunken dance-off with about 40 black guys.
- Dennis wins.
- Pizzle and Dennis get into a water fight at Denny's.

When we got back to the hotel, we stumbled back up to our room(s). As I got to my room, I fumbled with my key, thinking only about how soft my bed was about to feel.

*squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak* goes the door.

Finally home.

*squish*

"What *squish* the *squish* fuck?"

"Why is my carpet wet? Like...all of it?"

Remember those styrofoam coolers? Yeah...they didn't hold.

Number of sytrofoam coolers: 3
Number of bags of ice filling them: 6
Number of ice cubes that WEREN'T melted, and still in the coolers: zero

"I'm *squish* so dealing *squish* with this *squish* in the *squish* morning," I said in a drunken-4am-stupor.

And that's exactly what I did.

Luckily, there wasn't much to worry about...nothing that I owned personally was affected by the water. All it really had to do was dry. Since it's been a couple weeks and I haven't heard from the hotel, I assume there wasn't much damage done. Whew!

It was a unique end to a suitably unique weekend. Perhaps the best weekend I've ever had. There are definitely people I wish could've been there and shared the event(s) with us. But I think everything happens for a reason, in spite of our ability to affect change on our own. They were there in spirit, and through our memories.

And it will be something I never forget.

Fin.

The Wedding Weekend, Part 2

2006-06-19T04:55:00.000-07:00

***For those that missed Part 1, click here. I've also gone back and added picture proof.***

Part 2 - Friday.

Some of the boys ended up at the Strip Club on Thursday night. As the future brother-in-law, it should've been something I took part in. However after my sister shut her eyes before telling me, "Uh...have...uh...fun...just please don't tell me what went on," I found that my reputation had significantly preceded me. I'm always the "make me forget my life" guy, and most know it. She didn't want me unloading all this knowledge on her future husband.

That, and I'm too old. They didn't even want to go out until 11:30, and by 11, I was like, mmmmmmmmm...hotel bed. I'm going to make sweet sweet sleepy love to you.

We woke up Friday knowing that it was going to be the lightest day of the three. We'd already picked up our tuxes on Thursday. All we planned to do today was go go-karting, and of course, the rehearsal.

The gaggle of dudes proceeded to the go-kart place at about 1pm. These weren't ANY go-karts, mind you. These are helmet-required-watch-a-safety-video go-karts. Suh. Weet.

Something no one told me before we all went...New husband's friends all race. Some professionally. They came with their own helmets. So, basically, it was them darting in and out of corners while I drove Miss Daisy. To put this in perspective...I got lapped THREE times. I'm not even that bad of a driver. It's just that they're that good. Do you know how retarded you have to be to be lapped three times? Well...let's just say there might be more than one reason why they gave me a helmet. "Huh huh...whersth my basthball."

After about 20 minutes of that, and the subsequent yelling that was required after the mandatory hearing-loss, we all made the trek back to the hotel to rest, get cleaned up, and make our way to the rehearsal.

There's no way to really transition into this next part. The A/C in the church was broken. I've never wanted to say "fuck" in a church more in my life. And that lack of sugar-coating that fact was about as abrupt as our realization of it that day.

It was BRUTAL. Like, sweat-beads down our back. The kind of heat that makes you giggle because you're so miserable.

Thankfully, we got out of that as fast as we could. The dinner that followed was extraordinary (and in a different, A/C-rich, location). We drank. We told embarassing stories. We watched a video with an amazing amount of embarassing pictures. It was a great night.

...and the best was yet to come...

The Wedding Weekend, Part 1

2006-06-13T15:34:00.000-07:00

I say "Part 1", because I don't have the likely incriminating pictures associated with said weekend, and will definitely be posting them at a later date. In addition, because there are many days associated with this event, I'm going to recap them in segments. To follow:

- Days Leading up to the Big Day
- The Big Day and its Aftermath
- Photo Evidence

And now, Part Uno - Thursday.

Thursday morning contained big plans for the boys. The men of the wedding party, and the dads, were all doing one of the time-honored traditions of male-bonding: golf.

Men golfing: 10
Men who can actually golf: 3

Now...most of us HAVE golfed. But we don't actually golf. Add to this the fact that we were playing one of the toughest courses in the Midwest. Hilarity ensued.

Hole 1. I teed off and managed to make the green in one shot! Of course, the green in question belonged to hole number two. Yes. I hit the ball, and it went so far to the right, that it crossed the rough and various foliage and landed on the green of the following hole.

Hole 4. I smacked the shit out of my tee shot on this one. I was really straight. For about 50 yards. Then the following conversation took place:

"Well...I'm not getting THAT ball back."

"Hey...that may actually clear the fence."

"Wow...is that going to hit the street?"

"Uh...that's not going to hit that minivan, is it?!"

*sssscccreeeeeeeeeeeeeech* <---that's the sound of a pissed off dude in a minivan, squealing to a stop in an effort to avoid my bouncing golf ball in the road.

Hole 6. We finally got the beer cart girl to find us. Thank God. We each bought four beers, and went about our business.

***EDIT - A random shot of Matt and Shanshu golfing...***

Hole 7. Shanshu hit a house. Actually, he hit a grill, then the bottom of the deck, and then the house, before landing in the rocks. Now THAT takes talent. Here he is hitting the ball...

And where the ball ended up...(there was a fence in the way, or we would've retrieved the ball...)

Hole 10. We're already exhausted, and the holes we're playing now are inversely proportional to the number of beers we're drinking. In other words, Shan and I stopped playing for the most part, and mostly just drank.

***EDIT - Another random shot...this time, just of the course...basically so I didn't feel like an idiot for bringing my camera.***

Whole Thirteeeeen. By nowe, we've been DRINKINGING plentiness and stuff. Did anywon knew that Corona can come in an can?! HAHAHAHAHA...I said "come ina can." I really does though. But it's hard to git the lime in it.

Hole 17...fkdlfj eork opwv weoruuf os.elf wehr lfiuer. We need food.

***EDIT - I don't even remember what hole this is from. While it may look like my tee shot, here's what it really is. It's my first shot. Meaning, when I hit my first shot, from the white tees, this is exactly where it landed. On the red tee. Another talented shot, if you ask me. And if you look closely, you'll notice that I'm taking the picture with my right hand, and still have a beer can in my left. I may not be a pro at golf, but...***

Yeah...we didn't even finish all 18 holes. We rolled back to the hotel to get cleaned up, and headed to dinner. At least...that's what I was told by the sober people the next day.

What I DO remember about dinner, was eating so much good food, we just weren't right for the next 3-4 hours. It was so gluttonous, that there was actually a point in which Shanshu pleaded with the server to leave us alone.

"If you come back, you'll bring us more food...and I will die."

One day down. Two to go.

Up next: Part 2 - Friday.

Geocities sucks a nad.

2006-06-12T19:10:00.000-07:00

I guess the downfall to free templates is that you're at the mercy of their graphics. I didn't bother to look at said references until I logged into Blogger today and noticed that all my backgrounds and graphics were gone.

After further review, I noticed that Geocities is the host of said graphics. No wonder.

How is Geocities even around anymore? They suck so bad that I'm surprised ANYONE wants to put up with them. It's really on the verge of rediculous.

Anyway...all my allotted "blog" time was devoted today to fixing the debacle that was my template. Sorry, but the wedding story from this weekend is going to have to wait another day. It's a great story, though. I promise it won't disappoint.

Wedding Nazis and the RSVP

2006-06-06T14:03:00.000-07:00

My sister's wedding is Saturday. So you know...her wedding planner chick is a nazi. My sister probably appreciates it, but it's fuckin' up my chi. I've gotten a zillion e-mails in the last couple of days, only about 10% of which even pertains to me. I'm the single brother. All I do is show up and make a drunken ass out of myself at the reception. It's either that or field questions all night about "when are YOU getting married"...

I've only spoken to my sister's wedding planner once on the phone. The story went like this:

*bbbrrrrrrring*

Pizzle: Hello?

Kindra: Hey, it's Kindra.

Pizzle: What's up?

K: Have you sent in your RSVP yet?

P: To what?

K: Becki's wedding.

P: No, why?

K: Because you have to. Why haven't you yet?

P: Uh...because I'm her fucking brother. And I'm IN the wedding. If I don't show up, there's a hole. And her gay male bridesmaid won't have anyone to walk down the aisle with (yes, that's true.)

K: Can you please send it in anyway?

P: I'm burning the edges first just so it looks funny when you get it. That way you'll know it's mine.

K: ...

P: Buh-bye.

Only thing funnier is that my dad had to do the same thing. Yes...you read that correctly. The man who's not only giving her away, but is PAYING FOR IT, had to RSVP to his own event. Heh. Guess that'll show him.

I'm leaving for Kansas City tomorrow, so I'll be absent from here through the weekend. Wish me luck that I don't cry like a 4 year old. I'll catch you all on Monday, with what I'm sure will be a VERY entertaining story of the weekend's events. Toodles.

Why do Mondays suck so bad?

2006-06-05T05:59:00.000-07:00

It's always interesting to wake up on a Monday and always feel the same way.

Mondays suck.

I had a great weekend, though. It was stupidly busy, but in that looking-back-on-it-puts-a-smile-on-your-face kinda way.

Had gigs with the band Thursday night (took the stage at 12:45am...done at 2:30am...in bed at 4:30am...ugh). That made Friday a little rough.

Another gig on Friday. It was one of those where the crowd was light, but fun, and the group, amidst all their exhaustion, let loose a little bit. It was good times.

Saturday was particularly stressful only because everyone was starting to hit a wall. The first gig on Saturday was at 2pm...a quick 45 minutes as part of an all-day festival. Group played well, and we sparked some really solid networking.

Saturday night was great. We had our final gig of the week at a place we love. We always wonder if this time will be the time when it sucks, and it never does (*knock on wood*). The crowd was a little later than usual, but after they filtered it, it was game on. As the resident sound nerd, I couldn't have been happier. It was some of the best sound we've produced in a long time.

4 gigs in 72 hours. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

For those interested, pictures from the weekend are located here and here. Though, I encourage you to dig through the rest of the site, too. You can click here to do that. :) Oh, and no, I'm not in any of the pictures from the weekend...that's what I get for being the one who takes them all...

Back to the point...There's little better than working your ass off amidst tons of pressure, only to actually pull it off.

Which brings me to a future topic...my younger sister's getting married this Saturday...whoa...

But more on that later...at least it's not happening on a Monday...

Strippers Abound!

2006-06-02T05:17:00.000-07:00

Your Stripper Song Is

I'm Too Sexy by Right Said Fred

"And I'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way I'm disco dancing"

Yes, you're super sexy. But you never take yourself too seriously!

What Song Should You Strip To?

Well...it's Friday, and there's little I like more than the idea of strippers on a weekend. Ignore the fact that my stripper song basically says I'm full of myself and gay.

Happy Weekend, all.

Guess who's back, bitches!

2006-06-01T04:58:00.000-07:00

Wow...for what it's worth, I thought I was dead, too.

I really didn't think that I would ever pick this up again. But, low and behold, the new month begins, new things in my life begin, and it only makes sense to get back to writing. <---heh...you'll never see this because I hit delete too fast, but I actually spelled "writhing" first instead of "writing". Freudian slip?

To commemerate my return, I present you with a new look, as well as a story of a Memorial Day weekend gone by. Oh, and to prove that I'm going to be around for a while, I've already written 10+ posts, so I only have to hit "publish". :)

On to the tale...

With Memorial Day Weekend comes a standing tradition amongst some of my friends: The Summer-Kick-Off-I-Bet-If-We-Feed-Pizzle-Enough-Booze-He'll-Do-Something-Stupid Party. So it goes.

A beautiful day set the backdrop for pool fun, great food, and flowing drink. It began at about Noon. By 2pm, none of us had eaten, but we'd been drinking plenty. It was time to soak up some of it. We did, but only then did the fun begin.

And now, I present you with a list of the day's events (hint: I got the list from Dennis...I don't remember everything that occured on it):

* Noodle bongs
* Jaeger bombs
* Vanilla Ice dance-off
* Noodle battles ("Monkey!")
* Booty dance lessons
* Appropriate trampoline front flip execution training (thx to the
vacant neighbors)
* Naked Pizzle or Pizzle in Rachael's shorts

I became the official "that guy" of the party. I was the one who slipped into the pool, and have the bruises, concrete rash, and sprains to prove it. I was the one who remembers everyone hanging out, then suddenly wakes up in the passenger seat of his own car AS HE'S BEING DRIVEN HOME BY HIS FRIEND'S PARENTS.

Yup.

As I spent Monday feeling sorry for myself, I questioned whether I would put myself in that situation again. Not until Labor Day Weekend, I suppose.

(Before I forget, also see the post below)

In addition...

2006-06-01T04:56:00.000-07:00

I have NO idea who's still rockin' the blog and who's not. I like to keep my links filled with people still active so that if others find you through me, I'm not leading them to folks that have taken a break or something. Also, I'm not big on having the most links ever.

SOOOOOO...please let me know if you want me to add/re-add you to the list (commenting at all will basically let me know you're there).

Holy fuck, I lost my phone.

2006-03-13T04:03:00.000-08:00

I hate the idea of having a home phone. I don't have any real use for it anymore. Long distance is a thing of the past, and who the hell is home long enough to actually be reached?

With all my phone equity placed in my cell phone, it doesn't exactly bode well if said phone is ever misplaced.

After a night out (surprise), and getting a ride home from a friend, I proceeded to my apartment like usual. As I got in the elevator, I did the usual slightly OCD pocket check. Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Phone? Fuck.

Now, with no phone, I find myself in a pickle. How do I reach said friend and inform them that apparently my phone is now taking residence in their car? It's not like I can call them and let them know.

So, after reaching my apartment, I tried a few things, including, but not limited to, screaming, cussing, and using the internet to text message both my phone, and my friend's. After a while, I gave up, and went to bed.

Luckily, the following morning, my friend figured it out and was able to drop it off before work.

It just goes to show...regardless of how well connected you might feel, it all goes away rather fast if you're too drunk to remember where you put your "connection"...

Blogger will be my bitch

2006-03-09T10:01:00.000-08:00

I've been a bad blogger. A bad bad blogger.

However, I'm saving up some recent events to blog about, and will be (hopefully) back to the normal every day/every two days thing.

Look for topics to include:

- The Art of the Drunk Dial
- Why I hate the handicapped bathroom (had to get ONE in there about poop, right?)
- Holy fuck I lost my phone

and so on...

The fun begins Monday...

Snow skiing in Hell, anyone?

2006-03-06T16:42:00.000-08:00

Well...the world is finally ending. Three 6 Mafia won a fucking Oscar.

I've never been a fan of the whole Oscar thing, only because the Acadamy is full of a bunch of douchebags that don't particularly depict my personal tastes, or anyone else's for that matter. It's frustrating to see a huge deal made out of a show that's essentially just a bunch of old guys sitting in a room deciding what kind of film we should appreciate.

And then came the coup of all 78 years.

Bigger than Halle. Bigger than Jamie. No..."It's Hard Out There For A Pimp" is officially the biggest breakthrough in bridging the Oscar stereotype gap.

Aside from the profound impact that hip-hop has and will continue to have, I've actually just been giggling thinking about a bunch of stuffy old guys bobbing their heads. Elton John this is not.

As I watched the show tonight, it reminded me of just how lame award shows have gotten anymore. But...I watched anyway...

Oh, and by the way...as Jon Stewart pointed out...

Three 6 Mafia: 1. Martin Scorsese: 0.

Spongeback Mountain

2006-02-23T08:58:00.000-08:00

In the world of Brokeback Mountain parodies, few cut through.

This is the best one I've seen...

Laughter is truly the best medicine

2006-02-22T04:06:00.000-08:00

So you know, I saw someone snort on a TV show last night, and that's what prompted this whole post.

I've always prided myself on laughter.

Laughter is what makes not only MY world go round, but the people around me, as well. I don't imagine that many come here just to hear me wax poetic about something somber.

Laughter is what has gotten me through some very tough times, and is really a daily therapy. And sometimes, laughing is just as entertaining as what you're laughing about.

Shan and I laughed about something at one point, and so long and hard, that we simply laughed at the fact that we were laughing. We had to take breaks only to breathe. We even had to separate just to settle down. Laughter can do that.

Heather and I have a funny cycle we get stuck in now. We each have a quirk. I snort. She laughs like what's-his-face from "Revenge of the Nerds". If ANYTHING makes one do it, the other starts, making the other laugh, and so on. Example: I made some comment last night about our bass player...basically just talkin' shit...but it was very well timed, and quite witty, if I do say so myself. Anyway, it caught her off guard, and made her laugh in that quiet I-don't-want-to-laugh-in-his-face-but-that-was-fuckin'-funny laugh. In spite of the quiet, the "Nerds" laugh slipped out, which cracked me up so much, that it made me snort. And it was pretty much all she wrote.

One of my favorite quotes of all time came from Charlie Chaplin:

"A day without laughter is a day wasted."

So laugh, if for no other reason than the fact that today's Wednesday, someone actually nicknamed the day "hump day", and it stuck.

Oh, and poop. Laugh and poop.

You can't have a weekend without "eek"

2006-02-19T22:47:00.000-08:00

Let me start by saying you know the weekend went well when you have a mascot to represent it.

Come to think of it, I have two.

Sometimes a weekend is just really fun. There's nothing necessarily crazy or remarkable, but it's still a couple of days that just the mere mention of has the ability to put a smile on your face.

Both Friday and Saturday night were gig nights, so it was pretty typical, as far as plans go. The added bonuses, though, were visits from folks that I don't get to see nearly enough.

Friday I had a friend of mine in town from Minneapolis. Technically, she's in "the business", and was here for a show the next day. BUT, I was able to convince her to come in a day early so we could hang. So, she became my roadie for the evening.

It was her first time to hear the band, which is always exciting for me. After all...who better to show off in front of than your friends?

The place we were at this particular weekend is one of the farthest locations we travel to. It means for a long drive if you're by yourself, but with friends, it makes it considerably quicker.

The drive home on Friday was hilarious, filled with a drunken fast food rendezvous, and one of the prizes of the evening. Even though you have to talk them into it, it turns out that grown women can flirt with the Drive-Thru guy and get them to give you a Happy Meal, even if you're too old. They'd probably do it anyway, but at the time we definitely felt like we were on to something.

In the Happy Meal was some freaky fairy angel thing that now resides on my rear view mirror. We tried for the entire drive home to figure out what the hell it was supposed to be, but we still have no idea. We just call him "Moe".

On Saturday, my sister and her fiance came in town for a wedding, but cut out early so they could join Dennis and Tiz at gig number two for the weekend.

My sister gave me mascot number two as a belated birthday present, in the form of All My Heart Bear. Of course, now that Heather and Dennis have started the idea that I'm into Care Bears, everyone's getting in on the action. Fucking fantastic.

So, Saturday was filled with a Care Bear, guys who only know how to dance in a circle, and my sister proving that you really can pass out on a bar stool and not fall off.

And finally, this is the best T-shirt ever, but not for the reason you think. Long story, but something I just had to acknowledge out loud for the one person who will read this and get it.

Here's to the countdown to next weekend...

Duck!

2006-02-16T09:57:00.000-08:00

I promise, I'm trying to blog...I've been so rediculously busy, it's freakin' me out. It's a good busy, but not particularly conducive to my blog family.

Just know...I'm trying...

In the meantime, Cheney's Got A Gun...

Why Valentine's Day is stupid

2006-02-13T15:24:00.000-08:00

OK...so this is totally going to look like a post by a bitter person. I'm really not.

Valentine's Day sucks. Here's why:

There are only two ways V-day can go. Either "expected" or "badly". Quite simply, if you do something on V-day, it's expected. If you don't, you're an asshole.

Perhaps there aren't enough dudes out there that would send flowers on a random day and have the card read "...because it's Tuesday" or "...because you're you." So, some stupid holiday had to be derived so that guys could get their quota in, and girls could feel like they accomplished a change in their otherwise semi-retarded manboys.

If I were a girl, I'd be pissed if the only time I got cool shit like flowers was on V-day or my birthday. If I'm as special as you told me I was before the first time I slept with you, I should get that shit all the time. And randomly. And in front of my co-workers so I could show off.

As a guy, to feel OBLIGATED to do anything such as this is just silly. I'd much rather give you jewelry because you just gave me the best head in my life. Of course, then I wouldn't trust you after that. You never trust the woman that gave you the best head of your life. Ever.

Not to create a cheering section amongst the women readers, but we should do that stuff without provocation. We should do it because you really are pretty fuckin' cool EVERYDAY, not just on the day we HAVE to say it.

But, then again, most guys don't know this, and it allows those of us that do to have much success. After all, if I give you flowers randomly, it may lead to, uh...jewelry *ahem* later that night. *wink*

Gym Musings

2006-02-07T04:50:00.000-08:00

I think someone at the YMCA has been reading my blog. This would normally be creepy, but there's a victory to be had here. THEY'VE FIXED THE SHOWER CURTAINS.

I went and worked out (more on that later in the post), and when I showered afterwards, I was thrilled to find COMPLETE shower curtains. They went from post to post! Woohoo!

I'm not sure why this is such a big deal to me. It did afford me a rather large smile which, I might add, is a dangerous trait to have in a room full of naked 50 year olds. Eek.

As to the workout, it was awesome. I'm sticking to it, as it's better than cocaine, right? While a good way to lose weight, there are dangers to cocaine, like losing a ton of weight and falling into the straw.

Anyway...I spent about two and a half hours there, and while it's difficult to walk now, there's nothing like the feeling of a great workout.

I'm not really the type to drool over chicks while at the gym. I know girls hate it when you do that, and plus, there's little motivation in flirting with someone at the gym when there's far more attractive dudes there than me.

Guys like me are an acquired taste. We're not the quick hookup. We're the "charm the pants off you when you bother to have a conversation with us" type. As a side note, this is why I have better vacations than most of my friends. Most guys are like, "Dude! We have to find the chicks! We have to get laid!" Guys like me don't get laid on vacation, and I'm apparently one of the few that know this.

Ever heard your girlfriend get back from Vegas and call you immediately, screaming, "OMG! I just got back...I hooked up with this guy! He's, uh...from Kansas...and average...uh..."

See what I mean? I'm more likely to be the guy YOU sleep with while your girlfriend's on vacation.

However...back to the gym. While I'm not one to drool, I CAN get caught off guard from time to time. Case in point last night.

While not the hottest girl I've ever seen, definitely in the top 5 since I've been in Wichita (for those that have never been here, they breed them well here...hot women abound). She was that cute, petite, fun-pink-Barbie type. Just a total Yowza! body. Short blond hair tied in little handl...errrrrrr...pony-tails.

Just gimme a minute...

Lovely.

Anyway. She positioned herself on a treadmill, in PERFECT view. I still had 40 minutes left on my cardio. I have an aural deterrent in my iPod, and a visual deterrent in her. Oh yes!

Oh no.

You see, it was the perfect view because there was an empty treadmill between the two of us. Then the largest woman EV-ER found her way onto the treadmill between us. While I give her credit for hauling her sizable frame to the gym, it was depriving me of some serious masturbation material.

You'd think I'd get rewarded for picking only a few times in my gym life to wish everything was in slow motion, but no. Maybe it was karma. Whatever it was, I definitely got the visceral smackdown.

I still powered through my workout in spite of the disappointment. I should at least get credit for that...

I got tagged. It tickled.

2006-02-06T03:08:00.000-08:00

So, I've owed SB a tag for a week or so. Here we go...

THE RULES: the tagged victim lists 8 different points of their perfect lover/partner, mentioning sex of that partner.

Female.

1. Funny. Not necessarily "Funny-Ha-Ha". She just needs to have the same kinda sense of humor that I do. She needs to "get it".

2. Independent. Have a life. Have a job. Have girlfriends.

3. Caring. Don't just let me care about you. Care about me. And show it.

4. Be strong. Stand up for what you believe in. Fight for things. Don't just sit there and let people have their way with you.

5. Be vulnerable. Even strong women need to let their guard down from time to time and allow others to help.

6. Honest. Cliched as it may be, it really is the basis for lasting relationships.

7. A good communicator. What good is the above if you won't share it?

8. Have the Vibe. The Vibe is what makes you attracted to someone you'd never expect. The Vibe is what makes you rip each other's clothes off if the time is right. The Vibe is what allows you to look at each other, have a conversation, and never say a word. The Vibe is what happens when you can fuck with your eyes...your mind...your imagination. Have that.

Get ya tag on if ya want to...

Hope your weekend was swell. Not to be confused with "swollen". It goes without saying that I hope THAT's true.

Weekend's here...

2006-02-03T11:56:00.000-08:00

Weekend's here...I don't have much to blog about today...

But, I'll leave you with this for your weekend. Click HERE.

See ya Monday. :)

Removal of the protective coating

2006-02-02T04:40:00.000-08:00

Honestly, I've been too busy laughing at the Chunk thing to post anything worthwhile for the last couple of days.

However, magic happened last night, and it's outweighed my need to giggle at the picture below.

Last night...I found an ab.

You see, since last summer, I've been on a bit of a mission. Ironically, not really a conscious mission...it just sort of happened. I changed my whole lifestyle. I've been eating better. Exercising a bit. Gave up the really poor habits in my life.

Since August of 05, I've lost 21 pounds. Not the biggest milestone for many, but it was no easy feat for me. I'm under 200lbs for the first time in 9 years.

Imagine if I was this charming and cut! I'd be unstoppable.

Last night, while catching up on some TiVo, I went from my "lying on the couch" position and sat up. I looked down, and what did I see? My first ab.

Imagine the thrill! I almost masturbated right then and there. Thankfully, good taste, and my cat's constant what-the-fuck-do-you-think-you're-about-to-do-in-front-of-me stare, prevailed.

There is much headway to be made, and the fight is not over. For anyone who's ever tried to lose weight, it's a constant struggle. For anyone who's had any success, you know that little things like this are what keeps you going.

Wish me luck.

Next stop? Being able to see my penis in the shower when I look down. I'm buying a fucking yacht when that happens.

The Truffle Shuffle is impervious to bullets!

2006-01-31T10:21:00.000-08:00

Bow down, bitches!!!

One year closer to death

2006-01-30T03:35:00.000-08:00

Isn't that the most morbid title in the world? It cracks me up when people use that to describe a birthday. Hard to celebrate anything when you put it in THAT context.

But I digress...

Birthdays are tricky. Oh...by the way, mine was Saturday...I don't say that to garner oodles of well-wishes...it just gives me an excuse to bring up certain points...

Like I said...birthdays are tricky. Rarely do you encounter a so-so event. Either you had a good birthday, or a shitty one. Even if you don't really do anything, if you have one person (or many) do or say something cool for/to you, it automatically makes it good by default.

They're also tricky, because whether you like it or not, you make a short list in your head of people who HAVE to acknowledge your birthday. They HAVE to, or you'll hate them forever. It's so incredibly High School, but that doesn't make it any less true.

I'll wait while you quickly compile your list...shouldn't take long...

See what I mean?

This short list, while dire in its importance, is also very easy to satisfy. You see...these people don't actually have to DO anything for your birthday...they just have to point out the fact that it's coming up/here. Any amount of acknowledgment is suitable. It just has to exist.

Some will lob it out to ya early. "Hey, don't you have a birthday comin' up? Happy birthday!" You see? That shit is cool.

My short list is pretty easy. Simply put, the family and the Best Friends Five.

The family, while pretty much a given, still went out of their way to wish me good times. Sister called me up a couple times that day, which was super cool. We talk regularly, but she wanted to make sure it wasn't just some message left...so she called me again to make sure we talked in person. She even got Sister's Fiance' to call. Cool message to get, and very unexpected.

Dad was, albeit surprising, another easy mark. He actually went out of his way to make the 6-dollar-a-minute cell phone call from Aruba, where he now spends a good chunk of a couple months. We had about an $80 conversation, and he told me he was going to buy me something shiny while he was down there. Word.

Got a couple e-mails from the Best Friends Five towards the end of the week. Shan and Nashville hit me up that way and wanted to reach out so they wouldn't forget on Saturday.

Got a phone call from Peterson on Saturday. He and the wife were going to come out, but sick twins and mom-with-pink-eye sorta grounded that takeoff. Still...I've always maintained that it's the acknowledgment is what counts.

Dave and Tiz had me over to Tiz's parents' house on Saturday. Originally, I was asked to...wait a minute. Dave's real name is Dennis. I'm tired of calling him Dave. I'm not sure why I even thought he needed an alias in the first place. Anyone who reads this and knows him knows what the fuck I meant anyway. So there.

Anyway, so I was originally asked to go to Tiz's parents' to help set up the satellite dish and make sure it works for the Super Bowl. Truth be told, I totally thought that was a ruse to throw me a surprise party. But alas, I was wrong. We fixed the dish, and had some great food. Tiz even baked me a cake for my birthday. Awesome! But, nothing really out of the ordinary. It was even a little depressing...at the time...

Mother fuckers. Little did I know I was about to get Punk'd.

You see...out of the Five, it leaves only Heather. Now, Heather hadn't said ANYTHING to this point. Nothing during the week at work. No call. Not even a text message. SOME kind of acknowledgment. Nothing.

Then comes the gig that night. She's IN the band, so I'm certain that at SOME point, she'll say something to me.

Two hours go by. Nothing.

I don't know that I'd ever reeeeeeally get pissed if one of these Five forgot. But, I was starting to get freaked out. What was this to say about our friendship if someone forgot? Have I put too much pressure on the entire concept? My friend's b-days are a big deal to me...is it fair that I need mine to be a big deal to them?

The real kicker? The band even called some dude up from the crowd whose birthday was shared with mine, and SANG HIM FUCKING HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I'm thinking, "OK...seriously...can't I get in on some of that?"

I'll preface the rest of this long-ass story with the fact that I'm the KING of planning shit for my friends. Gonna surprise Peterson for his last night at the Pub? Cool. I live 50 feet from the surprise. Tiz wants to strip for Dennis' birthday? Cool. I've got the stripper pole and the plan. NEVER does anyone beat me at my own game.

Until Saturday.

Mere minutes before midnight, with all but seconds left before it's no longer even my birthday, it happens.

Everyone stops what they're doing, and the spotlight is on me.

"Where's PJ?" booms from the speakers.

Shit. You mother fuckers.

This was no ordinary calling-out. This was the whole bar singing. This was 6 cameras to catch the stupid look on my face.

This was the time the cake came out. Not just any cake. A fuckin' CARE BEARS cake. This was pretty much the gayest cake you've ever seen in your life, and it was fuckin' awesome. I mean, this cake was so gay, it almost came out on fire. This cake was so gay, if it were a gay man, it could sit on a popsicle and tell you what flavor it was. THAT gay.

Heather had this whole plan up her sleeve from the beginning. Everyone knew. Tons of people showed up thanks to the work of her, Dennis, Tiz, and others.

I suppose, when you go to such lengths to make your best friend question the friendship, it just makes it that much sweeter when you realize just how much they really DO care. I almost tear up just writing that...uh...I mean...where are my red meat and guns?!

To recap:

Number of cakes on my birthday? 2
Number of Care Bears action figures I got to take home with me? 2
Number of people who seem to think I'm pretty fuckin' cool? Too many to count
Person who was made everyone's bitch on his own birthday? Me
Person who loves that fact? Me
Best birthday that I can remember having in years? Definitely

Long drives, many drinks, and puking paste

2006-01-27T04:55:00.000-08:00

By now, you've probably read the story of the last time I hung out with Boomer. And the saga continues...

It begins by arriving in St. Louis at 6:52pm. I only know this specifically because I was challenged to get there by 7pm, and I did. With time to spare.

We got to our hotel, and did the usual check-in, dump your shit, figure out the plan portion of the event. We made ourselves pretty...well, I did. The guy that drove up with me is very securely and happily married. There was no "get ass" goal, but there's a big difference between "just in case" (me), and "don't want to even if I could" (him). So he watched the Travel Channel.

Around 7:30, daddy needed to pick up smokey treats for the evening of drinking, dancing and God-knows-what-else, so we make our way to the hotel bar, in hopes that they sell smokes.

Nope.

Fuck.

However, they DO at the sports bar by the hotel. Cool.

"What? Just follow this walkway and it will take us right to it? Thanks."

It's at this point, that we realize that not only did we pick a hotel that was close to the evenings festivities, IT WAS CONNECTED TO THEM. We literally didn't even have to go outside to get from the hotel, to the bar, and back. That fucking ruled.

So, we're early, and could eat the ass end out of a large, dead animal, so we hit up this badass sushi place that also happened to be in this same area. (Incidentally, I just pretty much gave you the layout of this whole area...hotel, sports bar, sushi place, club...all next door to each other...sweet).

After dinner, we hooked up with the party, and had a truly wonderous time. Keep in mind, that Boomer is about 6'5", and I have no idea how much he weighs, but he's big. Like...the biggest man I've ever known. That big.

We drank and drank, and drank some more. Many drinks were bought...others were simply siphoned from the bottles themselves. You know you "own" a party, when they just start handing you bottles of liqour because they're tired of dealing with you. So we drank from them.

Please note that the above was NOT due to not tipping said people. We did the math later, and after our huge tab was calculated, we realized we had actually tipped our bartender MORE than what the tab total even was. 20%? Try 120%. No wonder they were ready to just give us the keys to the bar.

I managed to latch on to the young lady that takes the money at the door. I must've had pent up flirting in me, because it began the second that we hit the door, and I felt the need to keep bringing her drinks throughout the night. Don't get me wrong...she appreciated them. A lot. In fact, after one round...and a little tongue...she even gave me my cover money back. It kinda made me feel like a hooker. Not in the "my daddy touched me funny and now I am just seeking affection" kind of way, but the "sucker...I would've fucked you for free, but got you to pay me for it anyway" type.

But anyway...back to the guest of honor...

I've had a lot of drinking experiences with this guy, and I've seen him drunk. I've NEVER seen him THIS drunk. Wow. At the end of the night, he was using guys my size to hold him up. For the record, that's tough to do. I didn't get any stronger in the few hours I was there, and he didn't get any smaller. And it's not like my balance was the greatest, or even straight-line capable. After all...I only had to go 50 feet to get to someplace I could sleep and not get arrested.

By now, it's morning. There's a point in everyone's drinking cycle where, if you've had too much to drink the night before, you must make the critical decision...do I try to stave off the puke? Or do I just submit, let it take me, and get on with my day?

I chose the latter...

If you were paying attention, you'll note that I had sushi for dinner the previous night. Well...when you drunk-puke sushi, it's a very interesting experience. You see, it's not like when you just vomit your liquid hell from the night before. No...because of all the rice and such, it was practically paste on the way up. Picture puking in slow motion. The gag gets there at the same time as other experiences, but the food takes it's sweet fuckin' time to come up. Pretty much the most disgusting vomit of my life. And that's saying something.

Luckily, having submitted to the vomit-breathing dragon, I was pretty good to go the rest of the day. The drive back was long, but having had such a good time the night before, all that was necessary was to recall an event from mere hours before, and we were all smiles.

Everyone has friends that cause you to do weird and stupid shit. This guys is one of them. I probably spent half the night answering to "Really? You just drove up here for this?" than anything else. I know I literally spent more time in the car in that 36 hour period than I did in St. Louis, and I don't regret the decision for a second.

Fuckity Fuck Fuck

2006-01-25T04:43:00.000-08:00

So, my timing sucks, and I just realized a blunder. I'm going to be out of town today (Wednesday) for most of the day, and almost all of Thursday.

Sooo...no OSW...no audioblog...nothing likely on Thursday, either.

As to the audioblog, with the reaction it got last week, I'm going to commit to doing it again and often. I had planned on doing one today, but alas, I didn't leave time to do it.

I'm off to St. Louis. A friend of mine is having a going away party, and I'm that guy who's willing to take two days off to drive 6 hours, drink until I hit on homeless people and forget how dangerous East STL is, and then wake up, hope I'm not still drunk, and drive home again. Good friend? Perhaps. Idiot? Definitely. Ah well...he'll just have to owe me one.

Put it this way...last time I drank with this guy, THIS happened.

That one is perhaps one of my more entertaining posts ever...well...that didn't relate to poop. It's also one that came about way before most of you current Pizzle-heads even started reading this. If you haven't had the pleasure, I suggest getting through every letter. I won't usually pat myself on the back for such debauchery, but if one must make exceptions to every rule...

Regarding the road trip, though...good news is, I'm picking up a crew in KC to make half the trek up and back with me. That should pass some time. And help me survive this.

I know, I know. I'm a naughty Alpine Boy and must be spanked. Save the swats for Friday. That's when I'll most likely be back into this world.

Peace, bitches.

Time to hit back!

2006-01-24T05:05:00.000-08:00

Slap Your Co-Worker Day is coming!!

Tomorrow is the official Slap Your Irritating Co-workers Holiday:

- Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't care about?

- Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you?

- Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their mouth and see what your boss had for lunch?

- Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious, when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?

Well, I am so very very glad to officially announce tomorrow as SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY! There are the rules you must follow:

* You can only slap one person per hour - no more.
* You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day.
* You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant.
* No weapons are allowed, other than a stapler or a hole-puncher.
* If questioned by a supervisor [or police, if the supervisor is the irritant], you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE!

Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of and get to slapping...and have a great day!

A Quest to leave Randomtown

2006-01-22T23:19:00.000-08:00

Seems like all I can think of to post lately is random musings and things that make me laugh at odd intervals (yes, those both mean the same thing...just seeing if you're paying attention...)

So...here are some things that made me laugh over the weekend...

- Why is that married girls always "leave their husbands at home because they're lame" when it comes time to hang out with me? Either I'm just that much fun, or I truly pose a "threat" to said men and they don't want the drama. Either way, it's an odd balancing act between pretty cool, I guess, and kinda depressing.

- The longest words you can type with your left hand only are AFTERCATARACTS (plural for a condition that sometimes follows cataract surgery), TESSERADECADES and TETRASTEARATES. Betcha didn't know that. And no, I'm not making that up.

- JOHNNY-JUMP-UP (a fast-growing flower or a brand name for a type of toy) is the longest word you can type with only your right hand. Seems to me that righty got the shaft. Actually, for most of us, righty DOES get the shaft...maybe that's why lefty gets the cooler words. Pity. Seems like small consolation...

- Did anyone watch the Steelers/Broncos playoff pregame? Is it me, or does the PA announcer for the Broncos sound like Kip from Napolean Dynamite, if a third testicle were added? Sheesh...you only need to find 32 PA guys for the whole league...you ran out of guys without lisps?

- It's pretty cruel that "lisp" has an "s" in it.

- Either I dick with my sleep schedule too much over the weekend, or it's just a weird coincidence, but I can't seem to get to bed at a decent time on Sunday night, and it pretty much fucks me up for the whole week. At least the first half. By the time Friday hits, I'm good, but then it's time to fuck it all up again.

Enjoy your Monday...or try, at least...

Fuck It Friday

2006-01-20T11:55:00.000-08:00

Well. It's Friday! I'm so excited to get my shit done and relax tonight that I almost forgot to blog. Perhaps, in the spirit of HNT, OSW, and the like, I should create "Fuck It Friday". Something about Friday just makes me want to post shallow, lackluster things. Hmmm...

For the first time in a while, I've got a night off tonight, so I plan to nerd out and stalk everyone's blogs and comment. I haven't been that good about that lately.

Enjoy the weekend!

A poem for Pizzland

2006-01-19T10:22:00.000-08:00

As I Mature...

I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.

I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assholes.

I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and only suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.

I've learned that you can get by on charm, but having a big wang or huge boobs helps.

I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to others...they are more fucked up than you think.

I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you're finished.

I've leaned that if you rub my penis, it's good luck.

I've learned that we are responsible for what we do...unless we're celebrities.

I've learned that 99% of the time, when there's something that isn't working in your house, and child or pet probably did it.

And finally...

I've learned that the people you care the most about in life are taken from you too soon, and all the less important ones just never go away.

Audioblogtastic

2006-01-18T05:06:00.000-08:00

Click HERE, bitches!

Please Please Please

2006-01-17T08:49:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

I know we don't talk much anymore. I also hope you realize that I don't ask for much. However, this time, I really hope you can help me out.

I'm praying that I was the first to find this. Please please please let me be the one to present it to the world. It's that big of a deal, and it would mean a lot to me.

Amen and stuff.

Dear Pizzlites,

This began on a Mixed Martial Arts message board about a week ago. Some guy from New Jersey posted a pic of himself with his friends at a club. What happened next was perhaps the best website ever.

You see, everyone began to talk shit on this guy, so he felt like posting MORE pictures would make him look less...well, I don't want to spoil it. Eventually, 137+ pages of shit-talk had formed on this thread, and people began photoshopping his pictures, adding even more hilarity.

Eventually, someone actually created a website JUST for this whole phenomenon, and it seem like it will be an internet legend in the making.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: Lee Hotti

Make sure you click through most of the site...it's priceless.

Amen.

UPDATE: He's on freakin' MySpace, too!!! :)

Post #100

2006-01-16T12:10:00.000-08:00

Fuck it.

While some have deemed my absence as negligence...truth be told, I simply didn't want to blow my wad on a 100th post and fail miserably. I have huge expectations for such an epic event.

Then, it turns out, that the pressure of coming up with some grand 100th post is rather overwhelming.

I can't just write about some normal daily thing. That's too ordinary for the magic of post 100. I could list 100 things about blah blah blah, but then I realized that the only thing worse than coming up with 100 things about anything, is having to read that many things. So, that's out.

With post 100 looming, it was keeping my from fun commentary on other things, and that's not fair to either of us. I haven't even been visiting others' blogs out of guilt.

It feels strangly similar to why I couldn't be a porn star. Well, aside from the I-don't-have-a-massive-wang part. The pressure to be good and stay good for that long, with spotlights all around, can be overwhelming.

So, fuck it. Post 100 can blow me. It's not grand, or spectacular. It just is.

There. Now I can get back to posting about things people want to read about. Like poop.

OSW in the Hizzy

2006-01-11T09:27:00.000-08:00

Today's OSW isn't anything I have in my office. Yet.

This, is the Optimus keyboard prototype. Each key is an Organic LED screen. It can be changed to suit whatever you need. Examples are below.

English and Russian (above)

Photoshop and Quake (below)

Wow. Just...wow.

Take notes, people.

2006-01-10T05:27:00.000-08:00

Tuesday is kind of a random day, and a day seemingly devoid of purpose. With that in mind, I present some random thoughts for a random day.

- When it's really really nice outside (say, like, last weekend), don't leave your coat in your car, for soon, it will be cold. Then, not only will your nice warm coat be in the car when you need it, when you finally finish cursing and GET to your car, said coat will be even COLDER than the air, and all weird and stiff.

- On a container of Altoids, it says the serving size is "3 pieces". Ever put 3 Altoids in your mouth at the same time? You might as well just light mint on fire and suck on it. Minty fresh breath only works if you haven't melted your lungs into something resembling a lagoon creature at the end of a B-movie.

- If you don't suck (or if you suck without teeth), click here and enjoy (Shanshu, you are required to click that link).

- Here are some brand new beach pics of the stunningly hot Jessica Alba. She looks too skinny here, but it wouldn't keep me from tossing off a few knuckle children to the thought of her.

- After guys wipe, they look at the TP to see what's on it. Those that say they don't are lying to you. Some say it's instinct. In my scientific opinion, I would argue that it's part morbid curiousity, and part skidmark protection.

- Chipotle is awesome. Chipotle after 9pm induces really fucked up dreams. These include, but are not limited to, getting chased by large apes in motorized shopping carts with AK-47s made from pussywillows that shoot poisonous Gummy Bears. I know...don't ask.

- Speaking of pussy...this cat fucking rules:

That's all I got.

Funky Monday

2006-01-09T10:52:00.000-08:00

Fair warning...don't keep reading if you're looking for a laugh.

I woke up this morning feeling really weird. A funk, if you will. Truly, I was in a really shitty mood.

Many of you have read that I'm involved with the Komen Foundation...and I say that to say this...

Almost like ESP, I walk into my office to find that a long-standing Race participant, Jan Murphy, died this weekend at the age of 46. She's been at more Races than I can remember, and will truly be missed. She had a difficult battle, and it truly is a blessing that she's now at peace.

She's survived by her husband and two adopted kids. If you're into the God thing, praying for them would probably be appropriate. Say "what up" to Jesus for me...we haven't spoken in a while.

There's no punchline today. Sorry to be such a downer, but these days come with the territory of being involved in something like this.

If you can find someone to hug today, I highly recommend it.

If you drink it, will it make you gay?

2006-01-06T09:31:00.000-08:00

So, whilst visiting the parental unit over the holidays, I found this in my dad's fridge:

Setting aside the instant giggles that come from seeing something called "homo milk," it made me think of a considerably more pressing issue...much like the Bachelor post from the other day...how the fuck do people let this stuff get by them?

If I'm in the approval department of the packaging division of some milk place, you'd think that when my 17 year old intern snickered while delivering the design ideas, that I wouldn't immediately go for the sexual-orientation-specific carton cover.

I suppose I could get it if it was manufactured in another country and the translation ended up silly. But no...good ole-fashioned American cow juice was this.

I mean, really...it couldn't be "hom milk"? Or "homog milk"? Maybe even, I don't know, "milk"? Maybe they saved ink on not writing out the entire word "homogenized". Or, even more likely, they didn't know how to spell it.

As a side note, I always thought Diet Coke was a homophobic bitch, but this totally proved it. Just look at how her back is turned. I'm so disappointed at others' close-mindedness.

Happy weekend.

This One Night, in Paris...

2006-01-04T09:49:00.000-08:00

Well...with a new year comes the inevitable "new winter line-up".

The only reason why I bring this up, is because a new season of "The Bachelor" begins on Monday. I couldn't care less about the show. I just needed an excuse to bring up the commercial I saw for it.

According to the commercial:

"The Bachelor begins his search for true love in the most romantic city in America...Paris!"

Yes...you're reading that correctly. I couldn't believe my ears and actually had to rewind the TV show I was watching to see if what I heard was really true.

We're not talking Paris, TX here folks.

Or Paris Hilton.

They meant Paris, France, and they totally fucked it up. Since when is France in America? Yikes.

I would get it if it were a live read by some broadcaster or something...but no...this was a produced TV commercial by a major network, with scripts, voice guys, and APPROVAL.

I mean...how does it get by THAT many people?!

That just cracked my shit up, and felt like it was worthy of sharing.

Happy Office Supply Wednesday. Today's OSW? I call this one, "A Complete Waste of Tape".

T-minus 10 minutes until I write 2005 on accident. Again.

2006-01-03T05:39:00.000-08:00

Another year.

With vacation comes the inevitable "holy shit, I'm back at work and have to figure out what to catch up on." Now that such a time has come, I'm afraid this post won't be a ten-days-built-up explosion of information. Truth be told, little happened to me that's worth writing about. Yet it was a great break.

Most of the time was spent relaxing. Spent some time with the family for the holidays and with Shanshu just hanging out and being nerds. Spent a couple of nights out. Spent others in...with others.

As to New Year's Eve, it turned out much better than even anticipated. I couldn't write about it much here, as the subject of the plan is a regular reader. Here's the scenario:

There's a group of us old dudes that have/had worked in bars and nightclubs for the better part of a couple of decades. Most of us have moved on to other things, and other priorities. ALL of us have stories for the ages.

The last of a dying breed finally retired. He had worked at the same club as the rest of us, though he had been there the longest...something like 8 years. We were all "entertainers", which for this club, meant a DJ/MC/party starter/dancer-in-clothes-that-we-wouldn't-tell-our-moms-about (I have a whole CD of pictures and a video exists that really shouldn't see the light of day if we ever hope to run for public office).

Anyway...this guy's last night was New Year's Eve. Instead of planning out a big farewell, we faked absence. We all set it up so that he would think we were all going to be out of town. Then, we all pulled out the old gear and moves and showed up before midnight, much to everyone's surprise. What followed, both at the club and after, is worthy of a tell-your-grandchildren story and pictures. But, neither will likely happen. At least until the statute of limitations runs out.

Needless to say, many tears were shed, we proved how important friends and family are, and showed just how out of shape we've all become. It was a plan that was difficult to keep under wraps and, much to our surprise, was executed about as well as one could hope.

I hope that everyone else avoided a New Year's worth writing home about. After all...it couldn't have been THAT fun if you could tell your parents about it.

Happy 2005...errrr...2006.

Signing off...if only for a little while

2005-12-22T08:42:00.000-08:00

Well...Today marks the first day of my vacation. I'll be around, but doubt I'll be blogging much. Likely not at all. My apologies if I've become part of your daily reading.

Wait. I'm not sorry if I've become part of your daily reading. I'm sorry if I've become part of your daily reading and I'm not going to be posting, therefore not allowing you to read it on a daily basis.

There. That's better.

I'm not going to be lame and wish everyone good tidings and cheer. Your holiday will be whatever you make of it. Me wishing good things upon you, however sincere, won't actually affect things unless you want them to. BUT, I do hope it is a good few days for you.

Oh, and don't waste your time trying to make New Year's Eve some kind of epic evening. Like many days of the year, it will be a let down if you put too much work into it. Beware the New Year's Eve. Just let it be, and find some quality people to hang out with. That makes for the best possible evening.

Here's to 2006. :) I'll be back on January 3rd.

Happy OSW

2005-12-21T12:50:00.000-08:00

Today's OSW: A picture of Office Christmas Pictures.

Ice, Ice Baby

2005-12-20T11:21:00.000-08:00

OK, really. Is there anything funnier than watching someone slip on ice?

It's seriously the single most entertaining and sad-at-the-same-time thing there is, I think. No matter how cool you look, trendy you are, or "together" your life is, there is just no cool way to manage icy parking lots.

EVERYONE looks like a total idiot, as we try to simply survive the walk to our cars. Minutes ago, I walked out into my parking lot to get something out of my car, and counted no less than 4 times in which I completely thought I was going to bite it. And, I'm pretty sure a little pee came out each time. Priorities, I suppose. Balance overrides bladder. Owned.

There are only a few times in life when hilarity and depression coincide with the exact same situation. Like when an animal or person meets a gruesome, horrific, hilariously unexpected death in a movie or something. Or when you're in a race to get home because you have to take a shit, and just as you get out of your car, you poop your pants a little bit. On one hand, it really sucks, but on the other, it's really fuckin' hilarious.

When someone finally falls on the ice, you have to fight back the laughter in an effort to provide the more socially acceptable action of concern for their well-being. You'll find yourself considerably more vocal about your concern, because it's easier than trying to stiffle the "church giggles" that are brewin'.

While I wish pain on few, fuck 'em. I think it's hilarious. Even when I do it. If you don't want me laughing at you, watch where you step.

Kisses.

Santa Day

2005-12-19T08:45:00.000-08:00

Ponder this...

There's been much controversy regarding the religious (or in the case of this year, the LACK of religious) nature of the holidays. Everyone's afraid to say "Merry Christmas" or anything similar for fear of offending. Even the White House sent out "Happy Holiday" cards instead of Christmas Cards.

In addition, there seems to be a renewed interest in the intense commercialism of the season. Everyone wants to capatalize on the spirit of the holidays and, well, simply make a buck. That pisses off a bunch of people. Personally, I couldn't care less...as it relates to Christmas, it seems to me that it's been a REALLY long time since anyone woke up Christmas morning and shouted HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS! Just because we're jaded now doesn't mean we should be all pissed that someone has thought to make a little skrilla off of it.

But I digress...

What if we went a different route? What if we created something new and fresh that was the best of both worlds? In that light, I present:

SANTA DAY

The idea behind Santa Day is such: A day in which EVERYONE can celebrate, regardless of religious background. Let's say we put such a day on the 26th or 27th of December.

As individuals, we can celebrate our respective religious days on our own. Christians can high-five Jesus. Jews can chill with Hanukkah Harry. And so on.

THEN, on Santa Day, we can ALL come together and celebrate the commercialism of the season with fruitcake, Hokey-Pokey Elmos, Xbox 360s and self-propelled vacuums.

Before you comment with some weird "Santa Claus was based on something religious," I ask you this: When was the last time that you ever looked at a Mall Santa and thought, "Wow. If THAT'S not the Spirit of Jesus, I don't know what is."

My point exactly.

St. Nick was really just a folk hero to kids. And now, more than ever, is the face of the commercialism we're immersed in a love/hate relationship with. He should have his own, new day.

So, as you prepare for the in-laws, or the creepy uncle that keeps trying to get your teenage sister to sit on his lap, keep Santa Day in the back of your mind. It seems like just the kind of thing that could bring the harmony this season was supposed to be about in the first place.

Happy Santa Day.

Things that made me giggle while pooping in a public restroom

2005-12-16T04:38:00.000-08:00

Now, by public restroom, I really mean the bathroom at work. However, it's built like a public pooper, and there are definite correlations.

Ever notice, when you're originally alone in a public restroom, and then someone comes in, you HAVE to make a sound of sorts to let them know you're in there? I'm not sure if that's more of a courtesy for them or you. Personally, I think I do it so they don't do something they'd be embarassed about if they found out I was in there...after the fact.

Another reason to make noises: when you feel a loud-ish fart coming on, or when you know your poo is about to hit the water. There's little worse then ever-silent bathroom tiles echoing the sounds of your dingleberry hitting the water.

Wait. I thought of something...

Diarrhea. The only thing worse than diarrhea in general is trying to have it quietly in a public restroom. It's kinda tough to look a co-worker, or complete stranger for that matter, in the eye, and explain to them that you're not sure what you ate, but you could basically poop through a screen door and not hit a wire.

P.S. They know. They just heard you.

Whether it's the rustling of papers, coughing or shuffling of feet...you'll find SOME way to "divert" the attention of your potty-mates. Me? I find a hearty giggle works just fine. After all, while trying to think of some noise to "non-chalantly" make, I usually just end up laughing at myself for feeling the need to do such a thing in the first place.

We all poop. It's a regular subject here because I think it's silly that it's so taboo. Believe me...if we DIDN'T all "drop the kids off at the pool", we'd have a considerably worse time getting through our days. They're usually fucked up enough as it is.

Thursday Thinking Out Loud

2005-12-15T08:28:00.000-08:00

- This morning, I noticed that there are almost 40 patents on the back of the packaging that my toilet paper is packaged in. Wow. I wonder if the CEO of Charmin ever wipes with something else and says, "Wha? These sons-of-bitches are using one of our patents!"

- I wonder if someone has ever thought to wreck their car in order to get the insurance money so they can make the payment on the car. For some reason, that seems perfectly acceptable to me.

- Boston Legal may just be the greatest show on TV right now. I just discovered it a few weeks ago, and it is a complete can't-miss hit for me each week. YOU may not think it's the best, but I at least encourage you to watch it once or twice. It's that good. Denny Crane.

- I brushed my teeth three times this morning. It still tastes like a midget shit in my mouth.

- Anyone remember the board game "Stratego"? I really liked that game, but don't even remember how it was played. Rit's "Strategery" made me think of that.

- If you work in an office environment, have you ever noticed that there's that one person who coordinates all the "team-building" events and parties, but you have NO idea what else they do? We have someone like that here. She has an office in the corner, and no one really sees her much until it's Christmas Party Time or Hayride and Cornfield Maze Time. Yes, we have hayrides. Shut up.

- It's Thursday, but I'm ready for the weekend. In addition, I'm now in Senioritis mode and can't wait for my vacation time. I'm taking 12/22/05 through 1/2/06 off. It can NOT get here fast enough.

Tasty Treats

2005-12-14T13:50:00.000-08:00

Today's OSW is dedicated to the tasty foodstuffs that I've received from co-workers. Yummy.

Happy OSW. :)

The whole concept of laundry is wrong.

2005-12-12T15:02:00.000-08:00

It's really frustrating how one has to do laundry.

I'm wearing what one might term an "outfit" today. Undershirt, underwear, button-down, jeans, jacket, socks, shoes, accessories, etc.

Let's say I want to wear this outfit again this next weekend when I'm out. Well, not without washing it.

Therein lies the rub.

Can I wash this outfit all together? Hell no.

First, it must be separated. Jacket, shoes and accessories don't need washing. All good there. Undershirt and underwear can go into the same pile, as they're similar colors and types of fabric. Button-down requires special washing and hanging. Jeans will leak blue if I wash them with anything too light. Ugh. Socks are easy, but don't fit into any previous category.

Now, with one outfit, I have multiple loads of laundry. Will I waste detergent to run four to six loads of laundry with one item a piece? Of course not. I now have to wait until there are enough clothes in each category to actually justify a load of wash.

I know what you're thinking. "Uh yeah...we all know this...that's the way it's always been."

That's my point. Isn't that stupid?! In all our infinite wisdom and technology, we haven't figured out a better way to create clothing? We have cheese in a can, and e-mail in our cell phones, but we can't think of how to make one red sock not turn every white I own, pink?

This almost ranks up there with how rediculous windshield wipers are. Again...we have cars with cruise control that can detect upcoming vehicles and apply the brakes if you're coming up on them too fast, yet we don't have a way to rid your windshield of rain, snow, and ice that doesn't completely suck ass.

Anyway...forgive the rant today. I spent a lot of time doing very little laundry, and can barely see out of my windshield because of all the residual snow/slush crap that's dried on it, and is difficult to remove with shitty wipers.

Happy Monday.

Friday "Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here" Thoughts.

2005-12-09T15:34:00.000-08:00

Got tagged by BK Babe:

It was to be entitled "Things I have not changed because I have tolerated". I've been thinkin' and thinkin'. It's really one of the tougher tags.

I suppose I've put up with a certain lack of cleanliness in my life for some time. I've gotten a LOT better, but I still have a certain level of Ick that I'm willing to live with.

I suppose I'm not the best with money. Again, another thing that's gotten steadily better as I've gotten older. I spend CONSIDERABLY less frivolously.

Outside of that, I really try to live my life in a way that allows for change. It's made me pretty happy.

Sorry BK, if that doesn't really fit the bill.

As to the rest of Friday...

Last night was a "client holiday party" in which a bunch of advertisers come by and we schmooze until we want to puke. Good news was, there was plenty of food, and a TON of booze.

A client holiday party is much like a staff holiday party, in which people are seemingly so overjoyed that they aren't working (and sans spouses, I might add), that they're willing to drink the night away and say whatever pops into their head.

People wonder why I blurt things out and have a pretty poor filter when it comes to political correctness. Well, primarily it's because when I'm at a party such as the above, I can end up drunk, and no one thinks twice about what I say. Someone who works at a bank, say, would have a much harder time looking co-workers in the eye after they got hammered at a Christmas party and humped an inanimate object.

Put it this way...my office was dubbed "The Make Out Room" by 7:30pm. Oh, and someone actually had to send an e-mail out today that said the following...and I quote:

"For whoever left your pants in the Channel 963 side studio, you can pick them up in the Channel 963 jock office."

It was a fun party.

It's ironic, because our staff Christmas parties are usually not as fun. Those things are fun for some because, again, if you worked at a bank, you'd go day to day and see little of your co-workers' personalities. In radio, we're jackasses, and we pretty much wear that on our sleeves. So...when you put booze in us, we don't end up much different. BUT...when clients who live stuffy lives and have stuffy jobs get thrown into the mix, all Hell breaks loose, and a good time can be had by all.

So, here's to drunk co-workers. And the girl last night who did that one thing with her tongue. Some people should get paid for talents like that.

OSW and the return of Action Figure Jesus

2005-12-07T09:16:00.000-08:00

Well...since Action Figure Jesus was such a hit last week, I feel a recurring theme...

For OSW this week, I present Action Figure Jesus making a call.

Guts or Balls?

2005-12-05T23:54:00.000-08:00

We've all heard about men having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them?

In an effort to keep you informed, the definition for each is listed below.

GUTS - Arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"

BALLS - Coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say: "You're next."

I hope this clears up any confusion on the subject.

The funeral is Saturday.

Accidentally Out

2005-12-05T03:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, "I think I'm just going to take it easy" turns into, "Another round of shots. And this time, put some STANK on it."

I call it being "Accidentally Out". Sure, it's really your fault that you gave into peer pressure. It's really your fault that the next round is on you. However, the importance lies in your lack of intention for such to ever take place.

I know, on the surface, it sounds about as guilt-free as, "Honey, I accidentally slipped and my penis ended up in her." But again, it's the INTENTION in this case. One, you want to make an appearance, and be able to put in some quality hang time with your friends. Second, there are only so many times you can be called a pussy before you haul your stupid ass 30 minutes out of your way for ill-advised drinking.

Flash back to Friday night.

Before you get excited, there's no debaucherous "following morning". It does end with an outcome I didn't expect when the night began, though.

Basically the short-list of what was intended:

- A couple of drinks on the East Side.
- A movie on the East Side.
- Dropping friends off; saying "call me tomorrow" to others.
- Phone call to yet others, mentioning that I'm tired and probably just going to go home.
- The End.

What happened:

- A couple of drinks on the East Side.
- A movie on the East Side.
- Dropping friends off; saying "call me tomorrow" to others.
- Phone call to yet others, mentioning that I'm tired and probably just going to go home.
- "Don't be such a fucking pussy" eminating from my phone at such volume levels that one could only assume that the beer was doing the talking.
- A drive to the West Side.
- Drinks on the West Side.
- Friends too drunk to drive home.
- The search for houses of drunk friends.
- A very, VERY excitable Pug.
- A cat, pissed off at the Christmas Tree.
- A bottle of wine.
- Drunk conversations about "what my passions are" and "what I'd be doing if I weren't doing what I'm doing now".
- Getting yelled at for not having answers to the above questions.
- The Three Tests.
- More wine.
- Being accused of being in love with people that don't exist.
- Two cigarettes.
- A Pug that snuck out when we weren't looking.
- Looking for said dog.
- Everything back to normal.
- A period of sobering up.
- More conversation.
- Goodbye pleasentries.
- The drive home.

See how many more steps to that night there are than the original plan? It was an accident.

But, even accidents yield good times. Such was Friday.

How are YOU in Love?

2005-12-02T03:35:00.000-08:00

Something about Friday makes me not feel motivated to blog. Not sure why. Good news is, there's about a zillion of these silly quizzes to do and post. Happy weekend.

How You Are In Love

You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time.

You tend to give more than take in relationships.

You tend to get very attached when you're with someone. You want to see your love all the time.

You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change.

You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard.

How Are You In Love?

A little bit OCD, a little bit Rock-N-Roll

2005-12-01T08:38:00.000-08:00

There was something I had to do today. I mean, HAD to.

As I was getting out of the elevator in my building, I HAD to push all of the buttons. Yes, I sent that elevator to every floor after I exited. And the basement.

Now, normally, I wouldn't do such a thing. It's rather juvenille. However, I certainly think about it. It got me thinkin' about something else...

I have a feeling that most of us have a little Obsessive Compulsive in us. Some of us more than others.

Of course, I don't mean the kind of crippling 18-time handwashing type of OCD. Just little stuff.

Here are some examples of mine:

My earrings. Most don't notice this one, but I end up touching them a zillion times a day. They're those 12-guage horse-shoe types with the screw-on ends. I don't know why I have an obsession with them. Perhaps I'm afraid I'll lose them.

Necklace Clasps. If you have a necklace on, and the clasp has made it's way to the bottom/front of the chain, you damn well better believe I'm going to say something. Make a wish or do whatever. I don't care. I just need that clasp in the right place.

Shirt/Bra tags. If your shirt or bra tag is sticking out, see "Necklace Clasps." A close second to this one is bra straps. While some would just enjoy the view and maybe even log the memory for the ole Spank Bank, my skin crawls. I'll try to be discreet when I tell you about them, but discretion takes a back seat to the need to fix the problem.

How are you OCD?

OSW

2005-11-30T12:33:00.000-08:00

Wow. Screwy last couple of days. Sorry this is going to be such a short post. However, I hope to make up for it with my Office Supply Wednesday shot for today.

Today, I present Action Figure Jesus humping my stapler. Happy OSW.

Thankful for the Daily Grind?

2005-11-27T23:11:00.000-08:00

Well...another Thanksgiving down.

While I can't speak for others, mine was exactly as intended. Not filled with a meaningless smattering of well-wishes to relatives I don't ever see. Not filled with shopping-till-I'm-dropping. Not filled with "Ooh, great...now that THAT'S over, let's start singing Christmas Carols!" Rather, a small gathering of friends, family, and soon-to-be-family, with good food, a little bit of TV, and little else. In fact, it was one of those good, relaxing times, in which you spend so many days doing nothing, that you actually forget what day it really is. Now THAT'S relaxation.

However, it wouldn't be a truely long weekend unless a few funny observations were had.

Case in point...

The Tryptophan phenomenon is astounding to me. Regardless of height, weight, or amount you eat, you are GOING to fall asleep on the couch. You can't fight it. Don't even try.

I shit you not...at one point, all eight people (and three dogs) that were at my dad's house, were asleep in the family room for at least an hour. I only know this because I was one of the last to fall asleep, and woke up only long enough to see everyone else passed out, let out a slight giggle, and re-slip into my coma. A phenomenon indeed.

A really cool outcome from this past weekend...ran into a buddy from high school that I hadn't seen in years. He's married and has dogs. And is EXACTLY how I remember him. He lives in Denver, though I was convinced he was in Boston. Now I can visit him and not have to clip coupons.

Really cool outcome number two...one of the Best Friends Five proposed to his girlfriend this weekend. At the Miami/Virginia football game. On TV. In front of 100,000-plus people.

Pays to be well-connected, huh.

I knew it was coming, and it was still really fuckin' cool. Needless to say, she was an emotional wreck, and he pretty much maxed out his pimp points for the next few years.

Oh, the bachelor party's in Vegas. Looks like she's not the only one who won with that proposal.

Also entertaining this weekend? Well...there are the ever-popular people-that-get-too-drunk-and-wish-they-didn't-look-so-stupid. I found a couple of those on Friday night while doing sound for a friend's band.

One was the guy who felt like he knew every word to the songs. And sang them. Horribly. You just can't help but smile when they mouth the words, are about a beat behind, and can't seem to get anything right. It's just so cute. Oh, that, and he felt like, "mbhbmbhb...PRETTY FUCKIN' HOT" was a compliment to the girls on stage. Perhaps if it was in a complete sentence...

Second was the girl who tried to dry-hump every dude (and a few girls) in the bar. I mean, really. She was ducking under tables and stuff trying to get at dudes.

When the bouncers have to come into a small-town bar and remove you from the crotch of other people, you know you're too drunk.

The only thing missing was the tattoo on the back of her head that said:

Let go of my ears...I know what I'm doing.

It gives me a new-found respect for the fact that you ladies really don't appreciate it when dudes come up to you while dancing in a club and knock their cock against you for a couple of hours. Unless he's hot, right?

Finally, all of the shitty eating for the last few days has only yielded a gain of two pounds for Your's Truly. Fuck yeah.

So, it's back to the Daily Grind. For many, it means back to the j-o-b come Monday. Let the countdown to the next holiday begin.

Harvesting Tryptophan

2005-11-23T08:20:00.000-08:00

Ahhh, Thanksgiving.

When asked what my favorite holiday is, I'm not sure that this is it. But, it's definitely a good one.

It always means a four day weekend. Except for some.

It always means good food. As much of it as I can stuff into my bloated face before the Tryptophan kicks in and I pass out.

It always means football.

It always means family and friends. I'm lucky, because mine don't suck.

Because it's almost T-day, I'll use this as an excuse to blog what I'm thankful for. Shan's the expert at lists, but it feels only appropriate for today...

I'M THANKFUL FOR:

- G.I.Joe and Star Wars toys. My entire adolescense would not have been the same without them.
- Being disease free.
- Crushed Ice. It's very overlooked.
- My family and friends. It's a close knit group, but they're fucking awesome.
- Vacation spots. Without them, how would we ever appreciate home and wish we didn't have to go back to it at the same time?
- That girl who did that one thing with her tongue. You'll always hold a special place in my heart. And loins.
- My cat. For a cat, she's badass. She's not a bitch like most cats. And she's GREAT with girls.
- Stripper poles.
- Intimate moments. Whether between friends, previous lovers, or people you've just met, it's the connections and vibes that count, even if other things surrounding them are drama and bullshit. Also, see "Stripper Poles".
- The loss of my mom. Many would think this is silly to be thankful for, but it's through adversity that a person's true colors shine through. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for her and that situation.
- My sense of humor. Without it, I don't know how I'd function.
- The SUperFInger.

...and finally...

- Blogging. It's a VERY fun way to express myself, and the people I've met on it are great. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday (or to our Canadian friends: Thursday), and that we all come back 10 pounds heavier.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm Old

2005-11-22T13:20:00.000-08:00

25 WAYS TO PROVE I HAVE FINALLY GROWN UP

1. My houseplants are alive, and I can't smoke any of them.
2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question.
3. I keep more food than beer in the fridge.
4. 6:00 AM is when I get up, not when I go to bed.
5. Sometimes I hear my favorite song in an elevator.
6. I watch the Weather Channel.
7. My friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up".
8. I went from 130 days of vacation time to 14.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."
10. I'm the one calling the police because those fucking kids next door won't turn down the stereo.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around me.
12. I don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.
13. My car insurance goes down and my car payments go up.
14. I feed my cat Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.
15. Sleeping on the couch makes my back hurt.
16. I sometimes take naps from noon to 6 PM.
17. Dinner and a movie can be the whole date instead of just the beginning of one.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather than settle, my stomach.
19. Girls go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condoms and pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff."
21. I actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time.
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to..." replaces "I'm never going to drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time I spend in front of a computer is for real work.
24. When I find out my friend is pregnant I congratulate her instead of saying, "Oh Shit! What Happened!?!?!?!"
25. I color my hair to cover the grey. Not to look cool.

My accessories are FABULOUS

2005-11-18T09:04:00.000-08:00

Blah. Another un-inspired Friday.

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Blind Goliath
Your Superpower is Accessorizing
Your Weakness is French People
Your Weapon is Your Venomous Analyzer
Your Mode of Transportation is Stilts

What's your Superhero Name?

I can't believe that my superpower is accessorizing. Ugh.

How you found me...

2005-11-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

I have a Stat Counter for the ole blog. It's pretty entertaining to really get into it and check the info they have on there. One of the more fascinating attributes is the "Came From" link. Here, they have the sites that contained a link to my blog that were clicked on.

Many I recognize. Most are off my profile, and many are from the people you see linked to the right.

Every now and then, though, there are "came froms" that are REALLY funny to me. Most derive from Google searches and the link. Some of the more recent searches that got a hit on my blog, and that I found really funny are:

- Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can

- Thank you for your concern.

- Snooze Game

- "lady in the street but a freak in the bed"

- "more than sex" heist pet monkey

and my personal favorite...

- how to make your boobs grow faster

Yeah...not sure what that's about.

Anyway, if you have a counter and haven't explored these things...I HIGHLY recommend it.

Happy "Day-Before-The-Weekend".

Shopping Cure-All

2005-11-15T22:03:00.000-08:00

Ladies...this one is for you, and one I would hope you can chime in on.

This whole post is going to reek of gay, so buyer beware. In fact, the only thing that would make this more of an episode of trading spaces is if I could work in the word "fabulous". I'll try my hardest not to.

Shopping. Not something I get to do often, and VERY much a cure-all for whatever ails you. Yeah, I know...that's mostly a girlie thing to say. But perhaps, in my years of trying to understand women, maybe there are some things that have carried over and I can now appreciate.

Don't get too excited ladies. It's like saying that women are smarter than men. While I definitely would concede such, it isn't really saying much. That's saying you're smarter than a creature that when he takes off his underwear, he picks it up with his toes, flips it in the air, and catches it with his hands. You're smarter than that.

It is pretty cool when you catch 'em on the first try, though.

But I digress...

I wouldn't say that I've had a bad week. Hell, it's barely Wednesday. I definitely feel like the rest of the week will surely be better than the beginning, but I have little remorse or spite for the first two days.

Maybe it's having been sick, and having a shitty week LAST week, that told me the only way to fix my problems was to spend money on myself.

Well, it worked.

It's not like I threw down NBA-player style. A couple of t-shirts, a pair of jeans, a dope-ass pair of new shoes (I'm a total shoe whore, btw), accessories including new jewelry for the ears (I have my ears gauge-pierced, and they've been in for over half a decade...it was time for something new), and finally, TWO leather jackets that were on sale for $50 a piece. Fuckin' legit.

Anyway, after the initial sticker shock and typical buyer's remorse, I'm over it, and feel great about it. I hadn't been shopping in months. Sure, I've BOUGHT things, but that's not the same...right, ladies? Yesterday I shopped with no plans. I didn't know what I was going to buy, and wasn't looking for anything in particular (though I KNEW I was going to end up with new shoes...I'm so dirty).

Last night was just like the first day of school...I laid out my outfit for the next day, and couldn't wait to rush to sleep so that I could soon wake up and put on my new threads. Sure, no one will likely notice today. But I'LL know. And I'M the only one that has to feel good about it.

Such is the end to my tale of problem-solving by way of substitution. I feel much better about the crap at the job, and the current lackluster personal life. Oh, that, and I have a friend coming into town tonight that's taking me out to a nice dinner...their treat. Oh, and girls invited me to a strip club on Thursday. That will help me not think about normal bullshit, too.

Happy Office Supply Wednesday.

Things that have annoyed the shit out of me in the last 24 hours

2005-11-15T08:12:00.000-08:00

- The guy on the highway that has had his turn signal on since 1955. I GET IT. YOU'RE TURNING LEFT. EVENTUALLY.

- An aluminum can of drink that actually listed it's "servings per container" as "about 2". What am I supposed to do? Put the rest in a ziplock bag when I'm done with the first serving? YOU LEAVE ME NO WAY TO SEAL IT.

- The movie "Shopgirl". Never heard of it? I hadn't either. A friend called and suggested it. I took her up on the invitation. To her own admission, she's now fired from movie-picking. Ugh. It was terrible. You'd think, with Steve Martin at the helm, it would reek of hilarity. QUITE THE OPPOSITE. I needed booze to numb the pain. There wasn't even a bare boob in this flick to save the day.

- This zit on my head. It's just one of those that, even after it's popped, just stays red and very visible. I hate those. YOU STICK OUT LIKE A SORE...UH...ZIT!

- Wind. I'm not sure what it is about it, but wind is just annoying. It's just so...so...disruptive. Don't confuse this with a nice gentle breeze. Stale air is just as frustrating as excessive wind. A gentle breeze is good. ENOUGH WIND TO MAKE ME NERVOUS ABOUT MY CURRENT STATE OF "CLOTHED" IS UNNECESSARY.

Happy Tuesday.

He's baaaaaaaack...

2005-11-13T07:50:00.000-08:00

After the hellish beginning to the work week, I managed to get sick at the end of the week. Really sick. So, this post is dedicated to the reasons why it can be proven that I was REALLY sick.

Reason 1 - "Uh...hi. I know you hate me, but will you help me?"

Picture this...your vomiting is so bad that you run down a list of people you can call for help, and you actually give consideration to calling an ex-girlfriend to take you to the hospital.

"Wait, I could call him...nope...he's in Houston."

"Oooh! I could call...nope...he has twins now."

"Wow...uh...haven't talked to HER in a long time...I wonder if her number's changed...you know what? I'm just going to lay here and tough it out..."

Reason 2 - "Why did you just say that?"

Any time you're at the doctor, and they utter the word, "whoa," whilst in the middle of the checkup...look forward to new, experimental medicines and "alternative" treatments.

Reason 3 - "Oh God! My eyes!"

Any time you can make vomit come OUT OF YOUR EYES, consider yourself REALLY sick. Now I can't really prove it, but I had my glasses on, and it ended up on the inside. The INSIDE. Ew.

Reason 4 - "Who am I?"

Sometimes, you get sick enough that you just stop caring about personal appearance. By the end of the week, I had a full beard. I hadn't worn pants in three days. I lived in my sickly filth. I'm pretty sure I only showered to wash the vomit from my eyes.

Reason 5 - "pizzle963 dot something or other dot what the fuck"

You stop blogging. You KNOW you have to be pretty sick to be at home, and not even have the interest or energy to sit in front of your laptop and blog up a storm. I mean, shit. It's not like I was doing much else...

----------------------------------------------------------

As a sidenote, I considered not talking about some of the gross stuff above. But, then, bad taste prevailed for the sake of entertainment, as it usually does, and I realized you sick sons-of-bitches would eat it up. Well...not literally...now THAT would be gross.

So...now that I'm back, know that you were missed. I'm considerably better now. And happy to be back. :)

Out of sorts...

2005-11-06T22:33:00.000-08:00

For the few that read this regularly...

I'm going to be out of sorts for a few days. Much has come up, and it requires all my attention. Nothing bad...just the kind of busy that keeps you in check for 99% of your waking hours.

Keep checkin' back...I should be back to bloggin' in a couple of days.

Holla.

Am I Having Fun?

2005-11-03T22:50:00.000-08:00

Stole this from Spinning Girl...

Your Power Color Is Gold

At Your Highest:

You are engrossed in passions that mentally stimulate you.

At Your Lowest:

You seek thrills and neglect what's important in your life.

In Love:

You see dating as adventure and approach it with an open attitude.

How You're Attractive:

You passion for life makes others passionate about you.

Your Eternal Question:

"Am I Having Fun?"

What's Your Power Color?

BCC'd like a Sea Lion

2005-11-03T03:51:00.000-08:00

This was forwarded to me from a friend. He got an e-mail from a buddy of his, and what MY friend forwarded was their e-mail exchange. My buddy was BCC'd on it.

Priceless.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

From: *********
Sent: Tuesday, November 01, 2005 5:22 PM
To: PJ
Subject: FW: ugh

Piz,

So, friends of mine were at The Hunt at Far Hills Race Track in New Jersey this weekend and ran into another friend of theirs with this blonde chick (who I guess he was seeing.) Regardless, read the first email from Elizabeth (the Blonde) and then Brad's (my friend) response back to her.....too funny to not forward on:

Subject: ugh

Brad,

It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever.

First, let me start by saying that Iam truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say allof us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing.

I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something.

The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not.

I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know thatfighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it.

I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that youwon't. If not today, then maybe some other time.

Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that.

I am so sorry.

Elizabeth

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Elizabeth,

Thank you for your concern.

I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about".

You did a stupid thing huh?

No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar.

To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't fuck him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday.

Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room.

The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened.

By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.

P.S. I BCC'd about 100 people on this email.

Talk to you never,
Brad

The Snooze Game

2005-11-02T07:14:00.000-08:00

I would challenge everyone who comes across this to the following duel:

There is no one better at the Snooze Game than me.

You know which game I'm talking about. The "how long could I possibly sleep in 9 minute increments before I'm threatened to be late" game.

I set my alarm for 6:50 this morning. Got up at 8:29.

There are two elements to the Snooze Game.

First, there's the "how far ahead you set your clock in an effort to fool yourself into thinking it's later than it really is so you'll get up and still have time to get ready" element. (Sidenote: Scientists are working on a shorter name for this.)

But, it doesn't work, does it. Nope. I used to set my clock something like 36 minutes fast. Yet for some reason, I could do the equivalent of quantum physics in my head with one eye open, and the other filled with eye-boogers. I could calculate the time my CLOCK would have to read, for it to have passed the threshold of lateness. If only I could harness such a power for evil...

The second element is the "every 9 minutes" element. Why snooze buttons don't snooze in another increment is bizarre to me.

It's also another example of amazing math at amazing times. For some reason, you can calculate when your alarm will again go off, hours in advance of the current blaring of noise. Remarkable.

The oddest thing to me, is the idea that my body and mind THINK that dozing off for 9 minutes at a time is actually healthy sleep. While my brain can do amazing math, apparently logic isn't a strong suit.

They say we only use about 10% of our brains. It's probably because the other 90% is sleeping.

Quotes from Halloweekend

2005-10-31T09:14:00.000-08:00

Various quotes from various people over the weekend:

- "Dude. This is going to so-fucking rock."

- *muffled* "Guys? The first one's out and everything's OK."

- "I can't see anything to my left."

- "You...you...MELLON-EATER!"

- "Dude, I can't figure this corset out. I think it's tangled."

- "Woohoo! They're like drums! bubbada-bubbada"

- "Oh my God. I'm, like, the sluttiest pirate ever!"

- "Argh!"

- "Great, now I'm blind in my good eye."

- "I've been wanting to snap that eye-patch all night."

- "Go ahead."

- "There is no way I'm going to get sick tonight."

- "There are boobies EVERYWHERE."

- "Wench! Where did the rum go?!"

- "The Stewie pumpkin is the shit!"

- "What do you mean that we put the corset on her upside-down?!"

- "Are you OK? Nope."

- "I'm never drinking again. And this time, I mean it!" *wretch*

Also, in honor of Halloween, I trick-or-treated at Heather's blog, and found out what kind of candy I am:

Snickers

Nutty and gooey - you always satisfy.

What Kind of Candy Are You?

What your dog really thinks...

2005-10-27T08:44:00.000-07:00

Certain things shouldn't be done to pets.

You shouldn't hump them.

You shouldn't shave weird patterns into them.

You shouldn't dress them up in costume for Halloween.

Thanks to my unusual ability to channel the thoughts of your pets, I present you with, "What your dog really thinks when you dress them up in costume for Halloween."

"You see, my FUR keeps me warm. Your sweaters only serve to insult me."

---------

"When I say 'woof,' I mean 'I hate you.'"

----------

"If the choice is between prison and playing dress up with you, I choose prison."

-----------

"As if it wasn't hard enough being called an anorexic all the time; now you dress me up as an old drunken hooker. "

--------

"If you think I won't eat you when you die, you're dead wrong."

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"Though I have provided all the evidence in the world, perhaps I should take this time to state a certain fact explicitly: I am a dog. I am NOT a CHILD."

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"As you must be mentally off, I'll cut you some slack."

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"If you wanted a bunny, why didn't you just buy one?"

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"Please remind me why I'm supposed to love you."

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"I wish your husband took me with him when he left."

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"If I had hands I'd strangle you."

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"What is wrong with you? Seriously. Did you not get enough love as a child? Is your world so completely devoid of meaning that you think dressing me as a flower is a form of care taking? I hope the house gets burglarized tonight."

-------

"Remember this moment when I pee on your Persian rug tonight."

--------

"What am I wearing? Am I a picnic table? A waitress?"

-------

"I wonder how many of these I have to slip into her water to end the torment."

--------

"Could someone out there please have my owner put to sleep?"

---------

"Very funny. You come up with that yourself?"

--------

"Look, I'm barely a dog. I have enough identity issues without you dressing me up as a cheetah."

--------

"Dang it. How am I going to get a girl when I look like I'm being strangled by a cartoon cat?"

---------

"You are ruining what self-esteem I have left."

---------

"And I thought the bunny suit was bad... What am I now? A Dogglebee? Please stop. Please."

--------

"You're going to embalm me when I'm dead, aren't you?"

-------

Student Drivers in 18-Wheelers

2005-10-26T09:17:00.000-07:00

There may not be a scarier thing than watching a student driver navigate a normal street on a particularly normal day.

Of course, there are fewer things as funny as fucking with one of these poor souls. After all, they're only taking the course to make it easier to get a license, and in case the white knuckles weren't an indication, they typically scare easily. In fact, I think back to the idea of seeing a bug or animal and being told, "you know, they're more scared of you than you are of it."

Still, you can understand my fear when I almost got t-boned by an 18-wheeler trying to make a left turn with "STUDENT DRIVER" all OVER the sonofabitch.

They're driving in the middle of downtown, in the middle of the day.

Is it me? Or does an full semi-trailer seem like something that, if you screw up and mis-judge the angle, could end up doing a SHITLOAD of damage?

I'm all for people learing how to drive. In fact, I truly think that the standards by which we base our driver's license requirements are severely lacking. Particularly in the elderly. However, I don't think the regular public should be subjected to Billy Bob learning how to work a double-clutch for the first time.

Besides. Their seats are too high...they're too tough to fuck with. And, because they're inexperienced, you can't drive by them while getting bunnied by a member of the opposite sex, either. Without the experience, they're sure to crash. The veterans know how to watch the action and keep the truck straight.

Uh...The End.

Your m3ds are here! V.iaggra!

2005-10-24T23:00:00.000-07:00

So, as I sit here on my laptop at home, I ponder something. It's 1am...I'm done checking the usual stuff like e-mail before I go to...but wait...

Long ago, in a land far far...wait again...no, same place as now. Anyway...years ago, when I first moved in, I got the ole high-speed internet hooked up at the house. With said high-speed internet, you must sign up for an e-mail account in order to be able to login.

When I first moved here, I used this new e-mail address quite a bit. It was the primary form of e-mail communication for friends and family.

As I moved up the ranks of my current job, my work e-mail began to take precedent. I was at work a lot, so if you wanted to e-mail me and increase the liklihood of me seeing it and responding quicker, you sent it there. With the liberal job in which I partake, you could even send the stuff usually unsuitable for work, so no matter what you sent, I was pretty likely to get it in a timely fashion.

Eventually, the old home e-mail address, much like the home landline and corresponding telephone, became a thing of the past. Sort of.

You see...the e-mail address never really went away. It can't. It has to remain for as long as I have the account active. I forgot about that.

That led to my curiousity tonight. I don't even remember the last time I checked it. Turns out it was May 20th, 2004. Wanna know how I know? Because I've been getting e-mails ever since.

Not just "hey, what's up?" e-mails from friends. No one even has that address anymore for that kind of e-mail. You get a cookie if you guessed spam.

Spam. A...LOT...of...spam.

Nine thousand, nine hundred, and sixteen e-mails, to be exact. Even in digits it looks like a lot: 9,916.

Pretty much any type of spam you could think of. Porn. Meds. Penis Enlargement. Pregnant housewives getting railed while their husbands are at work. Big Naturals you have to see to believe...or so I'm told. Nearly 10,000 e-mails. Ten-freakin'-thousand.

I can't say I'm surprised. You leave an e-mail address idle for long, and you're bound to get blasted by the spammers of the internet underbelly.

At first, I thought it would be entertaining to go through them all eventually. I got about 250 in before I realized I should be institutionalized. So, I deleted them all. It took my browser nearly 8 minutes to compute that. I was curious so I counted. That's a long page-load-time. I'm just happy it didn't crash.

Here's hopin' that someone, somewhere, didn't only have that e-mail address for me, was reaching out after years of no contact, and hence caused me to miss the opportunity to get caught up with some long-lost love or friend. If you were buried under the spam, you were deleted. And for that, I'm sorry.

As to you, the rest of the e-mails in that inbox...

I $ay f.uc.k offf! @nd, save t.housands on ur m0rtg@ge!

Poop and the Morning Routine

2005-10-24T09:10:00.000-07:00

I definitely wouldn't say that I LOVE to poop, but there's something about a good poop that will make anyone feel better. Anyone disagree? I doubt it.

Ladies, no comments about how girls don't poop. You do. And the difference between dudes and chicks is that women will go out of their way to cover it up, and guys are just hoping that someone walks into that room after they're done. Even those with whom God is not a large part of their life will be praying that someone walks in and doesn't inhale untill they're fully immersed in the room and it's too late.

Because of men's affection for poop, sometimes it's tough to prioritize life events when one is starting to rear it's ugly head. Pun intended.

Oh, and by life events, I don't mean your child's first birthday or something...

"Honey, I've got a big one brewin' here...better get me the Bible to read. And don't even bother to check on me until after the Creation. See if our child can wait until she's two to open presents."

I'm one of those people who has exactly enough time to wake, get ready, and be at work on time. If any one thing goes differently, my schedule is pretty much screwed.

Usually, I like to wait until I get to work to poop. For those in corporate servitude, isn't it better to waste (<---ha!) a good chunk of minutes in the bathroom than spend more time in your oddly-similar cubicle? Now, my job isn't THAT bad at all, but you get my point.

My digestive system doesn't exactly set my alarm for an earlier time if a turtle-head is comin' on. That sonofabitch. It knows. And it won't do anything about it.

So the debate rages on...be late to work? or drive to work standing up...

Today, I was late.

A couple of quizzes...

2005-10-21T13:19:00.000-07:00

Another "Non-inspired Friday"...

Stolen from Nameless:

I'm:

Part Passionate Kisser

For you, kissing is about all about following your urges
If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story
You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses
A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble

Part Expert Kisser

You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity
You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off
And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave
When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

Also, I'm:

Your Passion is Orange

Your sex life is driven by your wild fantasies.
For you, sex is a dramatic performance where you are the star.
And you love putting on a wild act for your lover, trying to top last night's show.
Whether you enjoy the actual sex is irrelevant... it's all about putting on a good act!

What Color Is Your Passion?

Advice from a picky eater

2005-10-20T10:22:00.000-07:00

I'm a picky eater.

My friends know this. Family and past girlfriends became experts at the art of "Acceptible Pizzle Cuisine".

Granted, I've gotten MUCH better over the years. There are really only a few things now that don't jive with me. That said, I have some advice for those who might ever serve me food.

1. Please take into consideration that if I ordered the food in a certain way, chances are, I really wanted it like that.

2. If I'm in a sub shop and order my sandwich plain, don't look at me like your shit don't stink. Don't ask me if I'm serious. Yes, fuck-stain. I want this particular sandwich plain. I just made less work for you. Don't try to make me feel guilty for prefering something different than your own particular tastes.

3. If you cut said sandwich with a knife that has a bunch of shit like mayo and mustard on it, you might as well put that shit on my sandwich. If you don't wipe off the knife, it gets on the sandwich when you cut it. Basic physics, folks.

4. If you put mayo on my sandwich bread, you can't just scrape it off when you realize I didn't want it. It requires new bread. I didn't want mayo because I don't like the taste of mayo. Guess what. Unless you're removing bread with the scraping ,there's still some on there. It's like trying to baptize a cat. No matter how drunk you are, or how hard you try, it can't be done.

Forgive the rant today. The above is not really THAT big of a deal to me, to the point where I won't eat something or send it back and be a dick, or whatever. I just have this silly theory that, unless a menu says "no exceptions", you should be able to get food that you order, the way you order it.

Really, it's just a sub-plot to my overwhelming problem with stupid people. I'm realizing now that most don't know about my utter dislike of stupid people. I'll be sure and expand on that at a future time.

Wine is Heaven and Hell all wrapped up into one bottle.

2005-10-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

Was at a convention for the last two days, so sorry that my first post is on Wednesday this week...

My weekend at a glance...

I'm not nearly as good at lists as Shanshu. However, as random as much of that night was, a random list seems the only appropriate way to recap it.

Wine. Yummy.
There's nothing better than a wine drunk.
There's nothing worse than a wine hangover.
Not being told that your ex-girlfriend and her new husband are going to be at the party is, uh, awkward.
The above is more awkward when you're wasted.
99% sure that ex-girlfriend's new husband was NOT a big fan of meeting me, irregardless of the fact that it's been YEARS since I've even talked to her. No need to be worried, dawg.
Did I mention that I was hammered that night? I could have made the above up in my head.
Shanshu and I tested a theory posed to us about groups of 5 at a party. We've found evidence to suggest the theory is accurate.
That potted plant was hot. I don't care what anyone says.
When leaving your dad's house, getting a designated driver if you're drunk is a great idea.
When moving your car so your sister can get out, and the above is true, be weary of where you put it.
Apparently, grass and asphalt look strikingly similar in the dark. On wine.
Your father's neighbors tend to be less than thrilled when you thought their yard was a place on the street to park.
No, I'm not kidding.
Friends that don't want food, but will take your drunk-ass to the grocery store anyway, fuckin' rock.
Trying to be funny in the checkout line at the grocery store probably comes across as more sad than anything.
Totino's Pizza Rolls are some of the best drunk-food ever. Fuck my diet.
You know you and your friends got really drunk when you wait until 3pm to even determine if all your plans you made for that day are even worth considering.
That funny thing that Shanshu mentioned is still really fuckin' funny. And will be for a looooong time.

Add all that to Shanshu's list, and you get a good idea of how the weekend went.

Today's a little random

2005-10-13T12:07:00.000-07:00

So, I have a couple of things on my mind that are worth bringing up, but none of them really warrent their own post. Just not enough content to sustain an entire blog. So, here they are in no particular order...

- I really thought that all the guys who thought it was cool to wear shirts with flames on them had died or something. I'll admit, obnoxious, shiny, glittery, flourescent shirts were all the rage at one time, and not even that long ago. However, those days long went away with the days of consistant raving and X-pills. Even if you went clubbing currently, things are considerably more basic and styles have changed. Lose the flame-shirt, dude. Unless you're a beatnik, own a tattoo shop, or drive a very large, loud motorcycle, you can't get away with it. Still wonder why you live in mom's basement and the only woman you "touch" is Virtual Vicki?

- If you're broke and can't afford rims for your car, for the sake of all things Holy, don't put chrome wheel covers on your busted-ass wheels. For fuck's sake. They even make spinning wheel covers. Gimme a break. Save up, like every other person who's priorities are fucked up, and buy real rims for your '84 Buick Skylark. If you're gonna do it, do it right.

- I have kind of an oral fixation. (Hahahaha funny face. Make the jokes. You done?) Yes, I kind of mean that in a dirty way, but I also like to chew things. Mostly pens and keys. However, I fucking HATE it when I drop an open pen out of my mouth, while I'm typing, and it marks my shirt. I just did that. FUUUUUUUUCK.

- Does anyone else feel like, after they've gotten their haircut by someone new, that they've just cheated on someone? I had a haircut/color last night, and my usual girl was sick with the flu, so they had some other girl do it. She did a great job, but the whole time, all I could think about was getting caught or something. Nevermind the fact that getting your hair washed in that sink is moderately erotic (I forgot how hot it is when you wash someone else's hair...ladies? Sound off. Made me long for the days of trading hair-washing with the girlfriend in the tub...).

Anyway...I truly felt dirty when I left last night. It was even kinda awkward.

"Well...I guess I'll see ya later."

"Uh...yeah...nice to, uh, meet you."

"OK...I'm gonna leave now."

"Cool...uh...drive safe."

Haircuts and extra-marital affiars...one in the same? Hmmmm...

Now I have a few weeks before I have to confront the "significut (<---HA! You like that?) other". Maybe the guilt will have subsided by then...

Pizzle Images

2005-10-12T08:58:00.000-07:00

Well...since the "Google Needs" post was such a hit, let's try this one...

Directions: Go to Google and click on the images link.

Type in the following and post the first (or your favorite) picture the search engine finds.

- The name of the town where you were born or grew up
- The name of the town where you live now
- Your name
- Your Grandmother’s name (pick one)
- Your favorite food
- Your favorite drink
- Your favorite song
- Your favorite smell

Town where I spent most of my little-life: Midland, TX (Yee-haw)

Town in which I reside currently: Wichita, KS (apparently, we only have two buildings)

My name: Pizzle (I don't even know what this is from, but it sure is funny...no that's not me)

Grandmother's name: Marianna (Yikes.)

Food: Sushi (yummy!)

Song: "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire

Smell: Women

Pizzle needs

2005-10-11T08:15:00.000-07:00

OK...so this is one of the more interesting things I've ever done.

Stole this from Lulu:

Ok, go to Google.

Type in "(your name) needs". Remember to use the quotes.

Look at the websites that say you need something. (Use different websites)

What are the things you need?

Here's mine:

"Pizzle needs to go here"

Uh...where? It's just like you to be vague. Men are clueless. We need more specifics than that.

"Pizzle needs help. Show him like you showed me."

Yes. Please do. I consider myself pretty well-aquainted with women's needs, but each woman is somewhat different, and there's nothing sexier than a woman who tells you what she likes. MAJOR bonus points if she SHOWS you. I'm sorry...did it just get warmer in here?

"Pizzle needs to PM me for pics of my balls."

Uh...no thank you. I don't even have many pics of MY balls. Not many, anyway.

"Pizzle needs to have green on to be accepted into our cult."

Despite my affiliation with what seems to be the entire country of Ireland (I lose count of how many hundreds of Irish friends I have), I will not join you! I will celebrate your yearly holiday every March, and drink like the rest of you, but that's as close as I get.

What do YOU need?

Blast! "It" again.

2005-10-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by BabyJewels.

Rit said: I made up some questions, so answer bitches!

So here goes:

1. How old were you when you found out Santa was not a jolly man, but your Mom and Dad? I don't remember how young I was, but I was pretty young. I remember asking my mom if Santa was real, and she said, "Do you really want to know?" I said, "Yes." And the rest is history. Didn't really bother me. Santa had good taste in presents either way. :)

2. Who was the first celebrity's poster you had hanging on your wall? Dallas Cowboy players Danny White (QB) and Hershel Walker (RB).

3. How many times have you heard the phrase, "Please step out of the car Ma'am/Sir."?
None. Not to say I haven't been in kinda-trouble ("Hi Mrs. Seacrest"), but thankfully it wasn't felonious law-breaking.

4. What is the lamest reason for breaking up with someone you have ever gave or received? I once told a girl that I couldn't date her (after hooking up the previous weekend) because my job caused me to potentially move a lot, and I just couldn't get involved only to leave someone. Yes. I didn't date a girl because there might be a possible chance in the near future that maybe I could possibly move.

5. What is the dumbest lie you ever told your parents to get out of something? That it wasn't my baby. Ha! Kidding. I don't really have a good one for this. Most of my lies aren't dumb. ;)

6. Paper or Plastic? Plastic. They're easier to carry and are re-usable. Plus, when they rip or break, they do it in a much cooler way.

7. What did you want to be when you grew up when you were little (under 10)? An astronaut. Then, on my 8th birthday (1/28/86), I stayed home from school and watched the Challenger blow up. I decided Earth had better jobs.

8. What do you want to be when you grow up now? I just want to keep having as good of a time as I have been. A little responsibility is welcome and hasn't hurt, either. If that means I stay in radio, cool. If not, people are much more important to me than what's on my business cards.

9. What kind and color of underwear do you have on right now? Burgundy Boxer Briefs.

10. What CD are you ashamed to admit you own and listen to? If you're not into Top 40 radio, you wouldn't like MOST of the CDs I own.

11. Who would you sleep with if you had the opportunity to? Jennifer Love Hewitt. Actually, I wouldn't just want to sleep with her. In my personal experiences with her, I've found her to be one of the most genuine and special people I've met. She's probably the only famous person that I'd want to try dating, too. But back to the question at hand...yes, I'd eat her ass through a park bench if given the opportunity.

12. Finish this sentence and say what movie this is from. The FBI is going to pay me to ______? (I know you will read this first, but if you didn't know don't lie.) No clue.

13. Are you a lame asshole who lied on the above question? No.

14. Why did you come to the blog that tagged you? Cuz she's one of my bloggin' buds.

15. What is your biggest fear? Spiders. I have a crippling, sweaty, 12-year-old-girl-at-an-*NSync-Concert fear of Spiders.

16. Do you watch reality television and why/why not? I do watch some. I don't prefer it over scripted television, but there are some shows that I get wrapped up in. I think it must be my fascination with other people's shitty lives. It's like watching Jerry Springer...five minutes alone with that show and you already begin to feel better about yourself.

17. Have you ever slept with someone and wondered why the hell you did that? Yes. Usually makes sense at the time.

18. What is your biggest regret? I try not to regret anything. I figure you can gain knowledge from every experience; learn from every mistake. If I had to regret anything, it would be that sometimes I spend too much time as a character, and not enough time as a person. You kinda have to know me to really know what that means.

19. How old where you and what happened the first time you got drunk? I can thank Shan for getting me hammered on my 21st B-day (correct. I didn't drink before I was 21). My first shot of anything ever was of tequila. That should give you an idea of how THAT night ended.

20. Which would you rather be, the hammer or the nail? Depends. Is she hot?

21. What is your favorite curse word? I'm a big fan of the word "fuck". I also enjoy words not used often as slang. For example, I'd much rather say "shave my coinpurse" than say "shave my balls". It's more descriptive, I think. Also, I like using clinical words because no one does anymore. My favorite is "vagina". Technically, it's not a curse word, but I don't really ever use it in appropriate context.

22. If there was one thing you could ask your parents, but never had the guts, what would that be? Probably what the drugs were like when they were younger. ;)

23. What are 3 things that make you go Hummm?

Women who put makeup on when they drive.
Every person who thinks they're smarter than Judge Judy.
The way my cat can play fetch.

24. Real or fake boobies? Much prefer real, but if they're well done, I ain't likely to kick a girl outta bed...

25. Do you like being tagged by people? Only if they're gentle.

I tag:

Shanshu
Musie
Jen

How much are you worth?

2005-10-07T12:13:00.000-07:00

It's Friday, and I'm not feeling very inspired today...so here's a stolen link...

Stole this from Anamika:

Apparently, I am worth $2,033,444 on HumanForSale.com

How much are YOU worth?

The shower curtain equivalent to a hand-towel.

2005-10-06T08:24:00.000-07:00

Ever tried to dry yourself off with a hand-towel?

No, ladies. Cleaning him or you off after you decide not to swallow doesn't count.

I'm talking about after you get out of the shower, and have only a clean hand-towel in order to become dry.

I work out at the local YMCA here, usually over lunch a couple of times a week. Because I must go back to work, I shower there after the workout.

Before you comment with "Ew! You shower at a public gym?!" let me stave off your disgust.

The way I see it, if you've been through either Vietnam or college, you're pretty much prepared for anything that can be thrown your way. I didn't go through Vietnam as I'm much too young. However, I had plenty of years in college, and the way I see it, there's probably not going to be anything more disgusting in this particular public shower than witnessed or stepped in while being in my early 20's, having male roommates or being at frat parties.

Anyway, at the Y, there are individual stalls with their own individual shower curtains.

But, here's the kicker: The curtain on the stall is about 6-8 inches THINNER than the stall opening.

Uh.........

To me, the idea of even having the curtain is so that you can enjoy a modicum of privacy. Having a Curtainkindof, as I like to call it, is really kind of pointless to me. If you put it in the middle, you have a solid 3-4 inches of open space on either side. Why not just have a free standing, open shower space? I might as well just scrub my balls with a toothbrush while sitting on one of those 50 cent towels, on a bench in the locker room.

It really hurts my head to think about what the purpose for this was. Do you really save all that much money by making them smaller? Is there some plastic shortage?

I equate this to the concept of "number of hot dog buns in a package versus number of hot dogs in a package", as well as the concept of "why bread is square and bologna is round". Granted it's not food, but it's equally stupid.

I think the next time I work out, I'll spend the shower-time with the curtain open. Strippers would. And if I thought someone would actually pay me to get/be naked, I'd definitely be a stripper right now.

I'm "it".

2005-10-05T09:16:00.000-07:00

Been tagged by Shanshu.

Here ya go:

10 Things I'd like to see come back:

1. Thundercats
2. Big Wheels -- Yeah, I know, they still exist, but not for big kids like us.
3. The Delorean -- Back to the Future. Need I say more?
4. My sex life.
5. "Pizzerias" Pizza-flavored chips
6. Smoking in bars in cities in which it is banned.
7. Women that think it's OK to actually be a woman. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for equal rights and independent women. In fact, I'm usually drawn to those types of women. But, at least let us believe from time to time that you want or need us in your lives, even if you don't feel like it all the time. We have fragile egos. We've been raised to hunt and kill and be the man and have a big penis and blah blah blah, and no reassurance to that end can be a negative. We don't always WANT to go shopping with you or buy you flowers, but the smart ones do anyway.
8. My goldfish that, uh, "ran away" when I was young.
9. Jelly Shoes
10. Swatch Watches with the bands you could change yourself and the rubber "face guards" n stuff.

I tag the following:

- Anamika
- Baby Jewels
- Brooklyn Babe
- Rich
- Nameless

Pizzle and the Brainfart Monster

2005-10-04T07:57:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, Pizzle arrived home from work. He opened his door, and noticed a drastic change in the temperature than when he left.

"Did I turn down the A/C?" he pondered.

He made his way to the light switch, and gave it a good click.

Nothing.

"Wha?"

Then he noticed a sheet of paper someone had slid under his door.

From: Westar Energy
Re: Your electric bill

Once upon another time, Pizzle forgot to pay his electric bill. He's not sure why. It's usually on his monthly list of things to do. Yet, for some reason, one costly brainfart segued into the Hell that is No Electricity.

Enough of that, class. Now let's go over the list of 10 things that NOT having power makes VERY inconvenient.

1) There's no A/C. When you have central air, and no electricity, you're doomed to the weather at hand. It was 82 degrees when I woke up this morning.

2) You can't see ANYTHING. Just when you think that you know where everything is in your house, believe me, you don't. My shins really fucking hurt.

3) You can't DO anything. I'm convinced that centuries ago, people either didn't read, or had amazing eyesight. Reading by candlelight is dumb, frustrating, and very difficult. It's also the only activity other than sleeping or playing with myself that I had to do in my house...that didn't require electricity.

4) You can pretty much assume that everything in your refrigerator and freezer is fucked.

5) You have to HOPE you wake up on time. No electricity. No alarm clock.

6) Showering by candlelight is not nearly as romantic when you're by yourself. And for the record, your hot water heater is operated by electricity. I didn't know that until this morning when I had no hot water. Awesome.

7) Trying to dry off after the shower while not catching your towel on fire is very annoying.

8) Finding clothes that match in the dark is much harder than it seems.

9) Trying to aim your deodorant, hairspray, et al in the dark, without tagging your eyes, is quite the daunting task.

And finally...

10) Spending the whole day hoping that your power is back on by the time you get home is exhausting and something normal people shouldn't have to go through.

So there you have it, boys and girls. Needless to say, Pizzle has learned his lesson. At the top of the priority heap each month is now the electric bill.

Read. Rinse. Repeat.

Suspending your expensive shit from a crane. Part 2.

2005-10-02T23:23:00.000-07:00

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

As Dane Cook puts it, there are only two things men want more than sex. To own a monkey as a pet, and to be involved in a heist. Incidentally, I have no idea how this applies to the women that read my blog, but you're just as curious and sneaky as the dudes. I know you're up to something...

I could feel your curiousity seething through the screen. "What's he gonna put up there?!" You just wanted to know so you could determine if it was worth stealing or not.

But now you've been found out. Silly blogger. Now I know, and while you're busy trying to scale my crane or get your plan and buddies together (including the one that you've never met before the heist, but who someone in your crew can totally vouch for. "No, dude...he's totally cool." But he's not cool, is he...).

While you're busy, I'll be with the monkey, in the van, getting away with my valuable shit. I'll be halfway to Canada before you figure it out. Don't bother trying to close the border. We've ditched the van and are now in a helicopter.

Actually, it's Airwolf.

Enter, the Airwolf theme.

Suspending your expensive shit from a crane. Part 1.

2005-09-28T14:26:00.000-07:00

FYI, this will eventually tie-in to the theme from Airwolf.

Often times, I find myself looking at things that seem strange and think of what it would be like to apply them to real life.

Take those construction guys who suspend their shit from a crane after the shift is over. Ever drive by construction and see a generator or backhoe hanging in the air? That's what I'm talking about.

I'm not sure if it's more silly to think that someone would steal (or, even funnier, has stolen) a forklift for their own personal use, or perhaps it would be more silly to think of someone suspending their comic book collection or favorite cat every night before they went to bed, just to make sure that no one were to see it on the ground and take it.

I take that back...if you had a comic book collection (still), you'd probably believe in flying criminals, or aliens, or government conspiracies. You'd never keep it up there. Besides, there's plenty of room in your mom's basement.

Then I thought to myself, if I had to suspend ONE thing from a crane every night to make sure it wasn't taken, what would it be? Would it be something tangible? Or should I get all deep and shit and think of something metaphoric to "place on the hook".

I could say "me". Nope. Makes me look like I'm too high on myself. Pun intended.

I could say something like "the key to my heart". Awwwwww.

Fuck that. I'm not that closed off. I love. I hurt. I put myself out there. Don't analyze me. I'm fine.

Perhaps it would be something material. My computer? My TV? My car? Naw. I like all those things, but not enough to not be able to live without them. Shit, I used to have people I didn't even know in my house, and tons of shit could've been taken...didn't seem to worry me much.

Sidenote: That's really a true story. I used to have afterhours in my house EVERY weekend. I didn't know many people, so I invited people I didn't know. It was expensive to fill that many people with booze. To give you an idea of how often random people were at my house, a weekend when I was in Portland, OR was interupted by a phone call from the girl that was going to watch my house. At 4 in the morning. Asking me if it was cool that there were 40 people in my house.

Anyway. Back to the crane.

OK, so nothing really metaphorical. Nothing really tangible. Aha! That's the answer...

Hanging from my crane is...

to be continued...

Skeet Shooting

2005-09-28T14:14:00.000-07:00

I live in Kansas.

We are stereotyped.

Most of the time, people are surprised to find that the stereotypes aren't true.

However, I can't defend this one.

I've made the drive from Wichita to Kansas City many many times. There's really not a lot to see. You could play "I Spy" and be done after the 2nd question.

"Uh, I spy, with my little eye...something grey..."

"the road?"

"Yup."

"OK...I spy, with my little eye...something brown..."

"Uh, wheat?"

"Yup."

"Uh...now what?"

So, when something out of the ordinary comes along, it jumps out at you.

Take, for example, the family of folks sitting in the back of their pickup, in a field, skeet shooting. Yup. Had the thing that throws the skeet up in the air and everything.

Would've been less disturbing and Deliverance-like if they weren't facing the highway.

"Oh well, Billy...you waited too long on the skeet and it dropped behind that car...no worries...you got the car."

*ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding* <--That's Dueling Banjos. Count he dings. I dare you.

Where's a highway patrol car when you need it? Surely they doth protest...

Kansas is, like, 80% field, and the one road that cuts through it...you aim at THAT?

The good news is, I no longer have any fear of falling asleep on that long-ass, formerly-boring drive.

Are you a loser?

2005-09-20T12:38:00.000-07:00

Stole this from Heather:

Ha ha...I'm cool...how about you?

Boobies!

2005-09-20T07:42:00.000-07:00

Just a reminder that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and is coming up fast. Ladies, get educated on your self-exams and start looking into mammograms if you haven't yet. If you'd like to look into a free mam, see this guy:

Our very own Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure is this Saturday. Not that any of you will be in the neighborhood, but here's some info if you're interested.

The party's in the kitchen

2005-09-16T09:33:00.000-07:00

Another interesting human phenomenon...why is it that, when you have a group over, at some point you all congregate in the kitchen?!

If you haven't noticed that, congratulations. Good luck being at someone's house or your own and not noticing that. You're welcome.

I'm not sure if it's because you have a sink, so if someone has to puke or pee, and there's a dire need to not have to take a few steps, you're safe.

Maybe it's because there's instant access to glassware. Or the fridge. Are we all too fucking lazy to get up from the couch to get another beer?!

What's weirder at my house, is that when people are over, if they've been there before, they assume the same spot at the bar/sink/stove that they did the last time.

I'm sure there's some psychology to all this that would render me insane if I tried to comprehend it. However, because it's Friday and I'm already think towards the weekend, I think to myself how silly human nature can be.

There's your topic. Discuss amongst yourselves.

Next week's topics will include:
Skeet Shooting
Suspending your expensive shit from a crane
Student Drivers in 18-Wheelers

The "Donut Rule"

2005-09-15T08:57:00.000-07:00

So, most know that Shan and I have known each other for a long time. A ree-hee-HEEly long time. What many DON'T know, is that we were cheerleaders in high school together. Well, technically, we were yell leaders, but the reactions are much more entertaining when we say we were cheerleaders.

Our senior year, everyone on the squad had to take turns selling donuts for a fundraiser before school. You have to wake up before God does, pick up the donuts, try not to eat them before you get to school, and sell them for 50 cents each in the lunchroom.

After many weeks, it was finally the guys' turn. We got up, met up, and did our due diligence to sell as many donuts as we could.

Actually, I'm lying. We didn't give a shit how many donuts we sold. We were still pissed we had to be in the school at 6-fuckin'-30 with food we couldn't eat ourselves.

Minutes of minutia and monotony followed, until argueably one of the hottest girls in school came up to "purchase" a donut. You'll see why I put that in quotes in a couple minutes.

Sidenote: Shanshu actually took this super hot girl to one of the 800 dances you have each year in high school. Kudos to him for that! However, he was not able to procure the poon, so he must hang his head in shame. Did better than I ever did at that stuff in high school. At least he had the balls to ask her.

She says: "Hey guys! Can I get a donut, please?"

We say: "Of course! That'll be 50 cents."

She says: "Well...you see...I don't have any money on me..."

*pause*

We think: "How the hell do you not at least have 50 cents on you?"

We say: "You know what? That's cool. You can just have the donut."

She says: "Thanks, guys! You're the best."

We think: "Wow, she's so nice and hot and nice and boobies and hot and drool..."

*pause*

We say: "You know why we did that, right? We thought, 'hey, maybe if I give her this donut for free, she'll have sex with us.'"

We think: "Yup."

Thus, the "Donut Rule". Any time, ladies, that you use your vagina or possibility of your vagina to your advantage, it's all part of the "Donut Rule".

I think my cat is left-handed.

2005-09-12T17:29:00.000-07:00

Have you ever looked at something and said to yourself, “Holy shit. How have I not noticed that before?”

The other morning, I had just ended my peaceful slumber, and as I sat on the edge of the bed, my cat appeared before me. Not like, POOF, there she was after the smoke cleared. More like the “fuck you, I do what I want” walk that cats possess when they enter a room.

After the usual “hey, how are ya” pleasantries, she proceeded to plop on the floor in front of me.

Sidenote: My cat has a HUGE ass. When I say plopped, it’s not a figure of speech. It literally affects your gravity if you’re standing in her vicinity.

More moments passed and after not petting her, she stood back up and walked to me. In the ever-so-charming way that cats say “hey dick! Pay attention to me!”, she placed her left paw on my bare leg.

It was early and I was groggy, but as I stared at her, I thought to myself, “I wonder why she used her LEFT paw. Why not her right?”

I began to think back to other times we had played stupid cat games or simply laid lazy-like on the couch to watch TV. It began to dawn on me that she is absolutely left-side dominant!

If you have a cat, you no-doubt are familiar with the wrap-my-front-paws-around-your-wrist, bite-at-your-hand, and kick-you-with-my-back-paws game. Every time? Left front paw over right front paw.

Creepy.

When we sit on the couch, she always lies on her left side, at least to begin with.

More creepy.

When she goes to clean herself, she always begins with her left side!

Wait. How the fuck do I notice this stuff?

Anyway, the weirdest one was the test I tried this particular morning. I grabbed her right front paw. Not aggressively, just subtly. Nothing but the blank stare of, “uh, what are you doing?”

Then came the left paw. It was like a knee-jerk reaction. She pulled away almost instantly.

May not be much, but all the clues are adding up, if you ask me.

Too bad cats don’t masturbate. Then we’d REALLY know the answer.

Back in the proverbial saddle

2005-09-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

Wow.

While much is still going on, I'm finally back to a less stressfull environment and can get back to posting.

Overall, we put together 5 semis worth of water together, with the help of the other stations in the building, and have shipped that off to the folks in the Gulf Coast.

Between that and the money we've raised so far, everything seems to be going well around here. We're now on to "Show Us Your Teddies!!", collecting teddy bears for kids affected by the hurricane.

Thanks for the comments you've left so far...here's hopin' I haven't lost all of my few readers! :)

I've got a TON of notes I've taken over the last couple of weeks, and those will turn into posts for the next couple. Good stuff and musings from the goofy shit I see on a seemingly daily basis.

More to come...

What a week

2005-08-31T10:10:00.000-07:00

Between the budget meeting hell that I'm in, as well as the hurricane relief efforts we're putting together at the station, this has been a busy week. Sorry the regular, humorous posting has been postponed. It'll be a couple of days before I can get back to normal on the ole blog...

However, I did think of a couple of posts I'll put forth in the near future.

- I think my cat is left-handed

...and, because everyone is so fond of my bathroom observations...

- Poop and the morning routine

If anyone would like to help with the hurricane relief, you can make a donation to our website, Storm Aid, which was actually set up for the Tsunami relief, but has been re-activated for the gulf coast folks. They're saying that thousands may already be dead...if you're the praying type, they would be a great point of focus.

Thanks for reading. :)

Weekend Recap

2005-08-29T09:22:00.000-07:00

Whoa. I've been all out-of-sorts lately. Not sure why. The biggest blessing in disguise has been the day-long budgets we were supposed to do today, but got pushed back until tomorrow. I've been able to get very caught up on work, for the first time in a long while.

I guess I don't really have much funny to say, so I'll just recap the weekend and hope something funny comes of it.

Friday night:

I do sound for Heather's band. Yes, she sings in a band. Yes, that's sooooooo hot. Many of the gigs are at bars/clubs/venues with many people. However, every now and then, the band will do a private party. Such was the case on Friday.

The location was a golf course country club West of Wichita. The approximate attendance: 60. The average age: 60.

Whoa, boy.

After the first hour, it really almost became laughable. The band did very well, as always, but I'm not sure what the crowd expected. It sure wasn't us. They just kind of looked on in awe.

Sure, they'd slow dance and get excited about a rendition of "Proud Mary", but the majority of the gig just became band-members screwing around while the party talked amongst themselves.

I figure there's no better way to show how uncomfortable the evening was then to end this part of the story in just as uncomfortable of a fashion.

The End.

Saturday:

If you're into Noodle Bongs, you would've enjoyed yourself on Saturday. This time, it's Tiz's b-day, so we all got virtually hammered WELL before the sun went down. You know, the great thing about getting drunk before dark is that by the time you make it home, you still get enough sleep to survive the next day.

Between new Noodle Bong escapades, to the argument over pussy- versus dick-drinks, to playing pool chicken, it was a considerably eventfull day. It's interesting how a few drinks can cause a bunch of adults to completely disregard the rules we set forth upon children when it comes to playing in/around a pool. I guess that's what makes us the adults.

Sunday:

I didn't do anything. Really. I didn't even leave my house. I put shorts on only long enough so the pizza guy wouldn't freak out when I answered the door. Ta-da!

The End again.

All of a sudden, the only funny thing in this post today is how unfunny it is. I'm laughing to myself knowing many of you will just be like, "Ugh. Well THAT wasn't worth it."

If it makes you feel better, this post feels like a Go Bot. You know, the bastard brother to Transformers? Come to think of it, I think Hasbro not only has Monopoly, but they had a monopoly in the mid-eighties. That's why Go Bots never got their due recognition.

Would you like IOUs with that?

2005-08-26T10:57:00.000-07:00

I'm in a hurry to get home.

I have nothing in particular to get home to. Just tired of being "not home". I've just finished my haircut, and need to get gas.

As I'm getting gas, I look across the street and see a fast food joint.

"Sounds as good as anything," I mutter to myself.

When you live by yourself, you find little reason to cook. I haven't cooked anything short of a microwave meal in years.

As I pull through the fast food joint's drive-thru, I order like usual. I get to the window. I choose to pay with my credit card.

*swipe*

*10 seconds pass*

Drive-Thru-Helmet-Wearer: "I'm sorry sir, the credit card machine has been hit or miss today. It hasn't been working with everyone. Would you like to try a different card?"

Me: "Uh, OK. I suppose"

*swipe*

*10 seconds pass*

DTHW: "I'm sorry sir. Same problem. It's our machine's fault. Do you have cash you can pay with?"

Me: "Nope."

DTHW: "OK. Well, I'll tell you what. I'll print off a receipt showing you paid, and you can just bring it in and pay at a later date."

Me: "..."

DTHW: "Is that OK?"

Me: *trying not to giggle* "Uh, yeah. Sure. No problem."

DTHW: "Great. Here's your food. Have a great day."

Yes. You read that correctly. I got an IOU from a fast food place. There's no indication of my name or similar on the receipt, not to mention it shows I paid for the food.

Who the fuck, in their right mind, would go BACK to a place and pay for something they don't need to? I might feel morally obligated, but I feel like free food is adequate compensation for the inconvenience of their stupid machine not working, so to me, it's a wash.

If there was ever a sign that certain people were destined to spend their careers as fast food attendants, consider this the apocolyptic version.

Wow.

7 Things

2005-08-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

I got tagged by Shanshu.

Seven things I:

Plan to do before I die:
- Get married
- Have kids
- Buy a house
- Travel to Japan
- Buy a car worth more than my house
- Retire
- Lose a few pounds so when I'm in the shower, I can look straight down and see my penis.

Can Do:
- Drive a car with a manual transmission
- Play the tuba
- Expertly beatmix two songs
- Talk a woman into doing something she wouldn't normally do.
- Be friends with a woman without needing to hump her.
- Say what everyone else is thinking, but don't have the balls to.
- Beat a video game with Shanshu in less than 48 hours.

Can't do:
- Touch my elbows behind my back
- Roll my "R's"
- Stop being a work-a-holic
- Manage money as well as I would like
- Make my penis any bigger than it is
- Speak any other language
- Stop laughing at the fact that you tried to touch your elbows behind your back.

Am attracted to in the opposite sex:
- Sense of humor (Not just having one. Having a specific type of humor.)
- Ambition
- Teeth
- Eyes
- Ass
- Having the desire to have a man in your life, but not needing one.
- Outgoing, but not overwhelming, personality.

Say most:
- "I'm not gonna lie to ya..."
- "The reality is..."
- "Wud up?!"
- "Holla"
- "For fuck's sake..."
- "Oh her? She's just a friend."
- "Wanna come over and watch a movie?"

Celebrity Crushes:
- Jennifer Love Hewitt
- Eliza Dushku
- Rachel McAdams
- Jessica Alba
- Kelly Brook
- Jessica Simpson
- Milla Jovovich

People I want to take this quiz:
- Nameless
- Rich
- Musie
- Cass
- Baby Jewels
- Danius Maximus
- **~*E*~**

What part of the chicken do the fries come from?

2005-08-24T08:09:00.000-07:00

This was first brought up by Cass.

Burger King now has "Chicken Fries".

After discussing the topic on Cass's blog, it came to light that no one had tried them. I decided, last night, to take one for the team, and try out our new fast-food-curiousity.

The verdict?

It's chicken. Really skinny chicken.

There's nothing funky about them at all. Take the regular chicken finger thingies you can buy from BK, make them long and skinny, and you have Chicken Fries.

To be honest, I'm actually a little disappointed. I thought they'd at least TASTE different or something. But alas, my dreams have waned.

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.

To snip or not to snip...

2005-08-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

I'm truly torn.

On one hand, I really think I could be good with children, and should have one or two eventually.

On the other hand, I'm not sure how you people do it!

Flashback to Saturday.

It's about 1:30pm, and I get a text from Heather** about Lauren's 5th birthday party, which is coming up at 4pm. Apparently, EVERYONE that got an invitation is going to show up. How the heck do you get THAT to happen?

Anyway, Heather, as a single parent, now has to oversee about 40+ kids with little parental supervision.

Hence, the text. She was hoping I could come by a little early and help out. I was planning on going anyway of course, but now I've been enlisted. Cool with me. I told her I'd just be her shadow during the party, and anytime she needed something specific done, to turn around and pout***.

Oh. My. God.

Here's what one minute for me was like at the party:

"No Alex, it's not your turn to bowl. It's Lauren's."

"No, sorry Lauren-who's-last-name-starts-with-an-R, I meant it's Lauren-who's-last-name-starts-with-an-A's turn."

"Arianna, can you please go get Cole's head out of the ball thingy"

"OK, Lauren, I'll come help you throw the ball"

"No, Lauren-who's-last-name-starts-with-an-R. I meant Lauren-who's-last-name-starts-with-an-A."

"Alex! Pull your pants up!"

"Ha ha ha...no that doesn't mean pull MY pants down."

"No Lauren, you can't pretend that the bowling lane is a Slip-N-Slide."

"No Lauren-who's-last-name-starts-with-an-R, you can't either."

"Alex. What's up? I look like a horse and you want to ride me? OK. Now you're just weird."

Ironically, none of these are my kids! Well...I'm pretty sure.

Anyway, I can't even imagine having this kind of stress on a daily basis. I'm sure it's different when they're your's, but wow. Don't get me wrong...this doesn't scare me from doing the kid thing in the future or think that I won't be that great at it (not including the time I played "fetch" with Lauren). I really DO want to have kids at some point. Perhaps a steady girlfriend would be in order...

I will say this. I think I accidentally gave myself a mental vasectomy on Saturday. I don't think I can get sperm to come out of me if I tried. I tried masturbating last night, and all I could muster was a puff of air. I'm sure that'll wear off, though.

I continue to garner new-found respect for parents, especially new parents and single parents. There's no joke to be made here. It's the toughest job in the world. Period.

In closing, I adore Lauren, and am excited she's five. Only 13 more years until she's as hot as her mom, and legally date-able. ;)

Here's the most-recent pic of me and Lauren (forgive that it's a camera-phone-pic):

Awwwwww.

Shut up. It's not cute! I'm gonna go scratch myself and pee on something to mark some territory. Red meat, anyone?

**Most don't know much about Heather, so a quick explanation: I consider myself to have 5 best friends. Shanshu has been around the longest, and is really more like a brother (I've even introduced him as such, and people buy it. I have another that lives in Nashville, another here (My Goddaughter's dad), and another that commutes between Wichita, Seattle, and Krypton ("Dave"). Last, but certainly not least, is Heather. Not to be confused with the Heather that has a linked-blog and that comments here. I don't know that one that well. "My" Heather, if you will, is defintely in my "best friends" rung of the "people I know" ladder, and the first female short of my sister that I'd turn to if I needed that perspective. Who am I kidding? She's as good or better with guy's perspective. :)

***HA! If you knew her, you'd think that statement is a funny as I do. Put it this way, she's not the pouting type. Not even close.

I'm Hairy Muff

2005-08-19T16:00:00.000-07:00

One of those funny blog quiz things again...

Your Outrageous Name Is

Harry Muff

Outrageous Name Generator

Question this!

2005-08-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

Some questions asked of me by **~*E*~**

1. On the best night of my life I…

...will look back on this question and think, "THIS is the answer!" I've always been an advocate for the "best is yet to come" philosophy. I don't feel like the best night of my life has happened yet.

2. What is your favorite city to visit (and why)?

This one's easy. Las Vegas. Sure, it's a pretty standard answer, but I really do enjoy the town. Most of my best stories started with, "So, there I was in Vegas..."

It takes me about a week to "get right" after a trip there, but the stories I can tell after a quick jaunt to V-town are worth the price of admission.

3. Shanshu is:

A. my bestest friend forever

B. my co-worker

C. my best blogging buddy

D. none of the above

There's not really and answer here that doesn't reek of gay, but for the sake of honesty...A, B, and C all qualify. We've been best friends for 14 years, so that takes care of A. We have worked together, so that's B. He's the one who got be started in the blog world, so that pretty much takes care of C.

But, his face looks funny, so I try not to claim him as someone I know unless I have to.

4. If you could only drink one drink for the next year it would be…

I'd probably stick with the old standard - Captain and Coke. It's been a staple of mine since college, so who am I to screw with the original?

5. Your all time favorite (I'm gonna change this to "right now", as my tastes seem to change by the week):

- Movie Quote
"Please, Gary, I'm not from Hollywood. I'm not going to fuck your mouth and my time is extremely valuable."
- Spottswoode in Team America: World Police

- Song Lyric
"We want a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed."
- Ludacris in Usher's "Yeah"

- Piece of Advice
"Relationships are only difficult if they're not going your way."

Thanks for the questions **~*E*~** - anyone else fancy a go?

Official Interview Game Rules:

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below asking to be interviewed.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Fast Food Finds

2005-08-18T11:58:00.000-07:00

When discussing fast food, many put the focus on the food. In this post, I'd like to focus on the non-food items that are the most, and least useful.

----------------------------------------------------------

Least useful: Ketchup Packets.

Show me one reason why these were ever a good idea. I dare you. Ketchup packets are a scourge on the human condition.

First, you can't open them, particularly if your hands are greasy. Then you use your teeth. Then you get the ketchup on you. Now, after having conquered the despicable packaging, you now have, uh, just enough ketchup for one fry.

Wha? All that work for less than an ounce of ketchup?

With the gluttonous society in which we live, you'd think we could get ketchup by the bathtub if we were so inclined. I mean, we can order a small ocean's worth of soda, yet we are relegated to only enough ketchup to stain our work clothes sufficiently?

Bastards.
-------------
Most useful: Extra Napkins.

When I get sick, I don't do anything. I mean nothing. I just sit in a primarily vegetative state and wallow in my own self pity.

As a result, I end up with a pretty dirty house. I don't really pick up after myself, and I sure as shit don't shop for necessary items to function.*** Case in point: Toilet Paper.

I haven't had toilet paper in my house in several days. It's not because I'm broke. It's not because I'm disgusting (BELIEVE me when I say I haven't had a guest over in a while for these obvious reasons). It's because every night in the last 10 days or so, I've had something to do, like a dinner or meeting. By the time I get home, I'm not that interested in cleaning, and I've forgotten that I need toilet paper.

Good news. Napkins are made out of paper.

I'm not proud of it, but thanks to our friends at McDonald's, Planet Sub, Chipotle, et al., my ass has remained successfully clean for many a day.

Now THAT'S a usefulness beyond compare. Ironically, it's much better than the toilet paper we have at work.

----------------------------------------------------------

Read. Rinse. Repeat.

***after I'm better, I ALWAYS pick a day and "detox" my dwelling so I can resume having people over. Today is that day. I know it reeks of gay, but I can't go a week without getting my clean on, even if it's just a little bit.