Lemmings

They don't actually commit suicide in droves. See here

That said, I'm all for jumping on the bandwagon. So, here's a meme, thanks to ella.

Consider yourself tagged, if you go for that sort of thing.


NAME SIX THINGS YOU ARE ADDICTED TO:
1. cracking my knuckles
2. cigarettes
3. caffeine
4. my children's laughter
5. masturbation
6. ella

NAME SIX THINGS THAT YOU ARE SCARED OF:
1. raccoons
2. brain cancer
3. zombies
4. losing my family
5. debt
6. George W
NAME SIX WORDS THAT YOU THINK SOUND FUNNY:
1. rucksack
2. moist
3.kerfufal
4. heifer
5. fece
6. nigga

NAME YOUR SIX FAVORITE PLACES TO SHOP:
1. eBay
2. Newbury Comics
3. IKEA
4. Old Navy
5. Toys r us
6. Ralph America

NAME YOUR SIX FAVORITE RESTAURANTS:
1. Pizzeria Uno
2. Chillis
3. El Sarape (local Mexican joint)
4. Bickford's
5. any greasy spoon diner
6.Abington Ale House

NAME SIX THINGS YOU WOULD LIKE TO LEARN HOW TO DO:
1. Play the guitar well
2. Raise well adjusted kids
3. Quit smoking.
4. Get along with my wife.
5. Use the Force.
6. become invisible.

NAME SIX SCENTS YOU LOVE THE SMELL OF:
1. napalm in the morning
2. coffee
3. moist vagina
4. babies
5. fresh cut grass
6. autum leaves

NAME YOUR SIX FAVORITE OFFICE SUPPLIES:
1. my red Swingline stapler
2. Post Its
3. drug company pens
4. stress balls
5. binders
6. paper clips, large

NAME SIX PROFESSIONS YOU WOULD SUCK AT:
1. food service
2. retail
3. sales
4. law enforcement
5. politics
6.prostitution

NAME SIX FAMOUS PEOPLE…THAT SOMETIMES…YOU WISH YOU COULD JUST PUNCH IN THE NOSE:

1.George Bush
2.Dick Cheney
3.Bob of Bob's Furniture
4. David Copperfield
5. Michael Bay
6. Foghorn Leghorn

Never Forget (excuse the repost)

The Death Star - Y4

Today, the Empire pauses to remember the terrorist attack at Yavin 4, which resulted in the destruction of the newly operational Death Star, killing all 45,802,934 people on board.

The Death Star was a symbol of the Empire's might. It was the final piece in Emperor Palpatine's galactic defense program. With it's completion, citizens across the galaxy could rest assured that they were safe, and order and peace would be maintained.

It is for these very reasons that the terrorist organization known as The Rebel Alliance chose it as a target. Not only would they keep themselves safe from destruction, but they thought they could deal a deadly blow to the resolve of the people of the galaxy and the Empire itself. They succeeded in their plan to destroy the Death Star, but they failed to topple the Empire. They failed to beat us, and our way of life.

The biggest threat to the Empire has always been the radical extremists that comprise the Rebel Alliance. They had been attempting to spread sedition throughout the galaxy since the formation of the Empire. Members of the Senate who had been sympathetic to both the Separatists and the Jedi formed a shadow organization within the Senate. That was one of the reasons for Emperor Palpatine's dissolution of the Senate only weeks before the attack on the Death Star. It was paramount to galactic security to protect all systems from the influence of these radicals. With the loss of their politic arm, the Rebels turned to terrorism.

It was in orbit around Yavin 4 (Y4) that the Rebel Alliance committed their most horrendous act of terrorism. After luring the battle station to their secret base, they unleashed an unexpected attack. No capital ships waited to meet the Empire. Instead, snub fighters were sent in on suicide runs to attack the station directly. One of those fighters, piloted by the radical extremist Luke Sywalker, penetrated the outer defense, and launched a proton torpedo directly in to an exhaust port on one of the Death Star's trenches. The resulting chain reaction destroyed the entire station, instantly killing all on board.

Those on board mainly consisted of military personal, the bulk of them being clones, serving as Stormtroopers. Although their existence within the galaxy has been a matter of debate for the past 3 decades, the fact is they faithfully serve the people of the Empire. They fight and die with no other thought than the glory of the Empire. Their selfless devotion to the principles of the Empire and it's people is something we should all honor.

In addition to the soldiers and security forces, there were countless officers, technicians and their families. Families living within the Death Star. In fact, the Death Star had just begun a Day Care center. Of the 45,802,934 people killed aboard the Death Star, only 31,622,963 were military. The remainder... innocent citizens, families of the Empire.

A horrible, cowardly attack by a terrorist group. But, they have not won. All available resources within the Imperial Navy are being pressed in the hunt for radical extremists Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, and Han Solo. The leaders of this dangerous group. Skywalker, in addition to being a cunning military strategist, is rumored to be a member of the outlawed religion know as the Jedi Order. The Jedi had once served the Republic, but had attempted to overthrow then Chancellor Palpatine and the Senate at the height of the Clone Wars. Palpatine ordered their execution during the Great Jedi Purge, and outlawed the religion as one of his first acts as Emperor. There are also rumors that Luke Skywalker may be the son of Anakin Skywalker, a prominent Jedi during the Clone Wars who disappeared among much speculation just before Order 66 ushered in the formation of the Empire.

There have been changes for everyone in this post Y4 galaxy. Security is tighter. Power among the regional governments has been consolidated. People are required to carry personal identification at all times. Ships are subject to search and seizure. All in efforts to prevent Rebel cells from operating and carrying out further attacks throughout the galaxy.

With the implementation of the Y4 Imperial Act, we can rest assure that all is being done to protect everyone, everywhere. The Rebel Alliance will be defeated, and peace will once again be restore to the galaxy under the benevolent leadership of Emperor Palpatine.

To all those that died at Y4, we remember you. You will not be forgotten.

Happy 9/11 Day!

Might as well make the most of the anniversary. Be happy, give thanks we didn't die.

Oh, and for the love of all that is holy:

Stop reminding me not to forget! I can't, OK, so you can spare me. I remember. I always will.

Thank you, come again.

Argh

Someone else made an offer and the house is off the market. I've scheduled 8 viewings for Sunday.

Whoopie fucking doo

Now the fun starts

After looking at 30+ houses, I think we may finally be done. I called our agent today and told him we want to make an offer on one of the houses we saw yesterday.

He's calling me tonight so he can write up the offer.

Woohoo! Looks like I can kiss solid bowel movements good-bye for the next few months.

Boldly going

One Year Ago Today...

Mary, grab the baby, the river's rising
Muddy water taking back the land
The old-frame house, she can't take-a one more beating
Ain't no use to stay and make a stand


Well the morning light shows water in the valley
Daddy's grave just went below the line
Things to say, you just can't take em with ya
This flood will swallow all you've left behind

Won't be back to start all over
Cause what I felt before is gone


Mary, take the child, the river's rising
Muddy water taking back my home
The road is gone, there's just one way to leave here
Turn my back on what I've left below
Shifting land, broken farms around me
Muddy water's changing all I know


It's hard to say just what I'm losing
Ain't never felt so all alone


Mary, take the child, the river's rising
Muddy water taking back my home


Won't be back to start all over
Cause what I felt before is gone


Mary, take the child, the river's rising
Muddy water's changing all I know
Muddy water's changing all I know
Lord, this muddy water is taking back my home

(J. Bundrick)

Road trip, anyone?

The Holyland Experience.

Any takers? Eh?

Friggin Fleas

How exactly do indoor cats get fleas? This I'd like to know.

How to deal with said problem:
Send wife and children out for the afternoon.
Purchase $40 worth of flea sprays and powders.
Cover rugs with powder, leave for an hour.
Corral 3 cats in the bathroom (one at a time) and spray entire bodies with noxious smelling liquid.
Wash every god damn surface they sit, lie or walk on.
Rue the day you became a cat owner.

We'll have to wait and see if this does the trick.

Hey, there's my moral outrage!

Like most Americans, I have a tendency to forget. Even when I’m remind not to, the daily grind of life tends to dull the sense and distract attention. Life, for some, goes on.

So thank you, Spike Lee, for raising my ire once again. I watched the first part of
“When the Levees Broke” last night. My heart ached once again watching the misery and suffering of helpless people betrayed by their own country. I got angry all over again.

I think I summed up my initial reaction pretty well here. I still feel that way, and watching the documentary only brought that point home more. How do I explain to my children the abject stupidity of our elected leaders? All I can say is I didn’t vote for the asshole.

No, I’ll never forget. I don’t think many people will. Be it September 11th, be it Katrina, people won’t forget. What they will forget, and what they have already forgotten, is that people are still suffering. The problems have not been fixed. And the people responsible are still making bucks and shitting on the Constitution.

Don’t wave your flags at me, brother. Get off your doublewide ass and do something about this country.

Some TLC needed

Can someone please explain to me how a house with a completely gutted attic for a second floor can be called a 3-4 bedroom?

The first floor had a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom and a pantry. That’s it. The second floor was totally unfinished, bare rafters and all. There was room for maybe 2 bedrooms.

What the fuck, yo?

Shit for shitheads

As in neighbors.

I don't think I've made any secret about how much I hate the muther fuckin trailer trash asswipes who live upstairs from us.

So, today is trash day. Yesterday, the idiot upstairs was making a lot of banging oise out on the deck above our porch. Seems he got the bright idea of putting down astro turf on his deck. So he's hammering in staples to keep it down. Seeing as it was Trash Day Eve, I decided to empty both diaper genies. I threw both piles of diapres onto the porch with the intention of putting them in the barrel after I collected the rest of the trash.

A few minutes later, I went out on the porch to have a smoke. As I'm standing over the ripening bags of diapers, I hear the ass upstairs yell: "Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that shit ass diaper smell? God, that smells!"

I chuckled to myself and decided to leave the bags sitting there until much later that night. Funny, they didn't hang out grilling on their deck last night.

You call this a house?

So, KG and I met our real estate agent today. PW is very nice. We looked at 2 houses in Abington.

The first house is apparently owned by stoners. They had a note on the door warning people not to let their cat out. The cat's name: Sativa. We also noted more than one 420 sticker. Cute, eh?

The house needs a fair amount of work. Horsehair plaster: not good. Needs an exterior paint job. The basement was partially finished, with a second kitchen. We actually liked that best. The bedrooms were small, very little closet space. We didn't love it.

The second house... bigger, roomier. Needs TLC? Fuck that, it needs a new roof. Water damage everywhere, the back deck is rotted, dirt floor basement, very little closet space. Out of the 2 of them, I'd have to go with the first one.

It was only 2 viewings, but it turned into an all day ordeal. I had to drive to Attleboro forst thing in the morning to pick up the Divas so they could watch the kids while we went out. Then I had to drive them back. Got home... had several emails from PW that I had to go through and pick out what we want to see next. Next Saturday we'll be looking at 5 houses in Quincy.

So, I did not get to go to RB's BBQ. I spent my whole day either driving up and down 95 or scrolling through page after page of MSL listings. I guess we're in for a lot of work.

But best of all, he's fun!

Coolest freakin toy ever...



I still want one to this day.

Money Pit

KG and I have finally decided to get serious about buying a house. If there is one thing I can thank the walking assholes upstairs for, it's that they have motivated us to do this.

Today I talked to a mortgage broker. Informative and frightening.

Wish us luck, we'll be needing it.

Imperial Duck Tour

That would be TK8103, the infamous Molius, and 11 other costumed Imperials tooling around Boston Saturday night on a Duck Boat.

A good time was had by all on board, and a lot of people walking the streets of Boston were left confused.

More pics here.

The cat's out of the bag

What were 25 members of the NEG doing marching around in full armor in a parking lot last weekend?

There was indeed a reason.... LFL is going to select 200 lucky troopers to march in The Tournament of Roses Parade!

Sweet! Here's hoping I'm one of the lucky ones that get selected!

Sodomy 101 for toddlers

This is Melanie, host of "The Goodnight Show" on PBS Sprout:


PBS Sprout is a great little addition to our cable package. 24 hours of PBS programming for toddlers. Thomas, Dragon tales, Zoboomafoo, Barney, all that stuff. I like it because my 2 year old can watch it before bed.

Melanie is cute, but annoying as all hell. She's so frigging annoying, I've found myself sitting there, thinking terrible thoughts. Wanting to violate her in terrible, dirty ways.

Apparently, a poke in the ass would be right up her alley!

The Technical Virgin

Needless to say, it appears young Melanie is no longer working for Sprout. I'll miss you, you daffy bitch!

I Have Kung Fu Grip!

Well, not quite, but how cool is this...

Habro has created an exclusive 501st action figure! So, I could argue that I now have my very own action figure.

It doesn't take much to make me go "w00t!"

Cars

Oh, I've owned a few. In the 17 years I've been driving, here's what I've owned:

1983 Chevy Impala I called him Elwood. It was a former Maine State Police car. 380cc 4bbl. Piece of shit that cost me thousands, but I loved it.
1985 Chevy Citation this one only lasted a few weeks. I hated it.
1985 Reliant K Another short lived car. I lost the exhaust system and then returned it. I disliked this car as well.
1987 Grand Prix Probably the nicest looking car I ever owned. It was a piece of shit. No power at all.
1990 Geo Metro The Smurfmobile, so called because it was bright blue. I loved this car. Small, dorky, 40 miles to the gallon.
1988 Isuzu Pup My first, and only, pick up. This car was awesome, and I loved it. bright red, I called it Sniff. I drove that sucker into the ground.
1974 Chevy Nova Looked kinda like this, except it had 4 doors, was hand painted, and completely rusted out. I bought it as a project car. Apparently, the project was to pay $300 for a car, leave it in a driveway, and then pay $50 to have it towed and junked.
1988 Pontiac 6000 My parents gave KG and I this car. You could usually get it to start by jamming a screwdriver into the carb. The suspension went, it sat on the street and got towed away. We didn't notice. This "free" car cost me $600 in parking tickets and $100 more to have it junked.
1988 Plymouth Horizon Another "free" car, this was my first manual transmission. After driving it once, I had to replace the transmission. KG and I dubbed it "little Lisa". It last a month or two.
1998 Saturn SL-1 My current, and to date, best car. I really can't complain. In the 5 years I've had it, I've replaced the exhaust and brakes twice, replaced the tires, batteries and rear brake lights. Other than a leaking moonroof, it's done me well.

That's it, so far.

Fucking hot

Not much else needs to be said. It's hot, humid and uncomfortable.

Got to go swimming today, which was nice. Now I'm swimming in sweat. Not so nice.

Shine On

Remember when you were young,
You shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes,
Like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
You were caught on the crossfire
Of childhood and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter,
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon,
You cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night,
And exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome
With random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

These sick days are gonna make me sick...

But what else can you do when you have a negative vacation balance due to paternity leave? Nothing. You call in sick.

You call in sick when you haven't slept for two nights. You call in sick when you plan to go to work and leave early to visit your mother in the hospital. But you drive down the street hearing your muffler dragging on the asphalt and realize you have to get it fixed. Right now.

A sick day costs $350 for a new exhaust. Then you get to go back on Saturday and drop another $600 because your brakes are shot to hell.

At least, if you're me, you're mother is doing as well as can be expected. It's hard to believe she had major cardiac surgery two days ago. She looks good, her vitals are good, she' strong.

It still sucks to spend the day at the hospital, looking at your mother in a johnny. Looking small and insignifigant. Seeing her face etched with pain. But... many others have been there, and most of them have had it worse.

Mind you, I'm not complaining. I'm just saying. These sick days are making me sick.

They Call me Mr. Misery

OK, perhaps that's being a tad dramatic.

However, it does seem that karmic forces are alined against me this week.

Izzy had her ultrasound today, the radiologist said her hips look fine. That is good news. She has her MRI on Friday to check for kidney reflux, so that is still hanging over our heads.

Had to work today, but I did have an awesome commute. I actually hit 85mph on the way in! The drive home was good as well, and a slow, boring day at work was made better by lunch at the 99 with the guys.

Yesterday my stepfather called to tell me my mom had been admitted to the hospital with chest pains. At the time it looked like she was OK, and we expected her to come home today. Well... just as I was leaving work, he called me to tell me that she was on her way to the ICU at NEMC. Seems she has a severe blockage in one of arteries, so she is having bypass surgery tomorrow.

So much for chilling and drinking on the 4th. Oh, yeah... my fucking mother! What's that about? She may not be a Rock of Gibraltar, but she is the one person in the family who has managed thus far to saty out of the hospital. It'll be a nerve wracking night while we wait to hear if her surgery was a success.

I love ya, Mom. Cut the shit, get better, and come home.

Reconnect

TKJr is away for the weekend. The house is very quiet.

KG and I went to a cookout this evening so we could see Mycalls and his most excellent sig other, G. I also hadn't seen his parents in quite a while, so it was a real treat to see them again. Back in the Bickfords days, I spent a lot of time over there.

I also, for the first time in way too long, got to hang out with Dude. Dude and I were pretty tight for a long time. We had a bit of a falling out. The typical stupid thing: a girl. That was a long time ago, and while neither of us harboured any ill will over it, it's been hard to bridge the gap and reconnect.

I have his number, and I've been meaning to call. He had mine. But neither of us got around to it. Life gets in the way, you know? So, it was really, really cool to hang out and chat. Smoke some butts, meet each others new squeezes.

I've missed Dude. A lot. It feels really good to have re-established a connection. Now I will call him. We should grab a beer and try and fill in that gap.

Happy Birthday, JeeBee

My little sister just turned 31.

Damn, that makes me feel old.

Day Out With Thomas

On Saturday we ventured out to Edaville Railroad for a Day Out With Thomas., just KG, TKJr and I.

Of course, it was pouring rain. But, we managed to have a good time in spite of the weather. TKJr was so thrilled to see a real, live Thomas. When he first saw him chugging along the track, he yelled out “I love Thomas!”

They had a lot of merchandise for sale. And TKJr spent most of his time running around looking at all of it. Thankfully, he’s pretty good about putting stuff back and not expecting to take it home. We did buy a comemorative “Day Out With Thomas” wooden coal car, a T shirt for TKJr and a T shirt for me.

I’m pretty fond of Thomas as well.

The rain managed to let up for a bit, and KG and TKJr got their picture taken with Thomas. After that we got to ride on him, and Nick really enjoyed that. I brought along the video camera, and we’ve watched that about 20 times now.

Brother, my cup is empty

Anyone else sick of the rain yet? I've finally reached a point where I really don't care. I don't even bother trying to stay dry. Being aquatic isn't really all that bad.

In fact, I'm so over it, I can't even muster the enegry to bitch about it.

I heard today that the NEG will be taking a Duck Tour on July 22nd. I'm so there! Just thinking about one of those duck boats tooling around Boston filled with stormtroopers cracks me up.

KG and I just finished watching "Airplane!" Now we're half watching some History Channel thing about the Klan. White people are pretty fucked up, yo.

So, I've bitched at length about my ass numbing, brain damaging commute. I've found a way to combat the soul crushing tedium, and tonight it is causing me angst.

Most days, if you happen to be stuck next to me in a traffic jam, you'll be treated to The Residents. Every so often, though, I'll pick one of my other favorite artists, and I'll spend as many days as it takes to make my way through their entire catalog, a day at a time.

The past weeks have been Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I love Nick Cave. How much do I love him? I named my fucking kid after him! Anyhow... I'm in to the third week of this little project, and I'm in trouble. I can't find Murder Ballads anywhere!

So, not only is my whole chronological order thing screwed up, I also can't listen to one of my favorite albums of all times. That, incidently, includes the best line ever written in any song anywhere...

"I'm a bad motherfucker, don't you know
and I'd climb over 50 pussies just to get to one fat boy's asshole."

Not for everyone, me thinks.

A few things...

The TV remote is on the fritz. It only works when I smack it violently against my hand. That trick rarely actually works on anything else.

KG and Izzy came home today. It's a nice feeling to have the family all back together. Izzy has been all smiles. I think she's happy to be back home in a familiar setting.

We're going to Edaville Railroad tomorrow to meet Thomas the Tank Engine. Of course, it's going to be fucking pouring with severe thunderstorms all day. I can only hope this leads to a smaller crowd, as the event is rain or shine.

For some reason the space bar on my laptop is acting hinkey. It only seems to stop working when I'm entering a post on this site.

I left work at 4:05 today. I arrived in North Quincy (10 miles away) at 6:35.

TKJr's daycare closes at 6. He was there all alone with a Chinese grandma who speaks no English. He handled it pretty well.

I just finished watching The Birds . I couldn't stop thinking about Crazy LM from work. I laughed.

I really, really hate traffic. I here by swear, as witnessed by the hapless few who read this, that I will personally ass rape any motherfucker that tands in the way of either flying cars for the masses or tube technology. I swear I will. That includes Dubya. Lead me to him, I'll ram it right up his brown eye.

Baby Update

I just got back from the hospital, and mom and baby are doing fine. Isabel has a urinary tract infection. Not normal for a 2 month old, but not life threatening.

We're still waiting on the results from the spinal tap, we won't have that until tomorrow night. So, KG and Isabel will be staying at the hospital until Friday.

Isabel was all smiles when I went to see her this morning, and she's trying hard to wiggle out of the splint on her arm. They are going to do an ultrasouns to take a look at her kidneys, and then she'll have to go back later for a more involved dye and x-ray to make sure eveything is normal and functional.

All in all a little scary, but everything seems to be OK.

Oh fuck

Well, KG and Izzy are at the hospital. The baby had a fever today, so KG took her to the doctor. They sent her to the hospital for a spinal tap. They will be staying there for 48 hours while we wait to see if Izzy has meningitis.

Fuck me sideways.

Where are my T storms?

It's tough this time of year when you're a big fan of thunderstorms. Every day I get a severe weather alert with the promise of damaging thunderstorms. Yet again and again the day goes by without even a single lightning bolt.

I want some scary weather, dammit!

Happy Sperm Donor Day

Seriously, to all you dad's out there... hat's off.

I had a pleasant day. Got to sleep in until 8, which is late in this house. KG made me eggs and bacon for breakfast, and brewed my coffee! I got a couple of cards, ans then my parents came over with toys for the boy.

They brought us a new air conditioner and a sand box for TKJr, which then necessitated a trip to Lowe's for "play sand."

We went out for dinner (fried clams!), and had ice cream at Peaceful Meadows. Came home, and I put TKJr to bed.

Now it's time for a beer. That'll make the day complete.

I finally broke down and bought myself a pair of flip flops for around the house. I've had a life long adversion to sandals... so for those who have known me a long time, that's big news. I figured I end up spending a lot of time poolside, at the beach, or just kicking around in a sweltering apartment, so it made sense. If I can get used to it, I'll graduate to a pair of real sandals. Woohoo for me.

I don't know what the big deal has been. I was a strange little kid, and some of those strange mindsets have clung around. I remember the one and only time my parents tried to buy me sandals. I was maybe 4 or 5. We went to a little shoe shop in town. The salesman told me to take off my socks. I refused, freaked out, and tried to run away. Never did wear those sandals.

So.. almost 30 years later, I'm finally getting over it. My feet thank me.

Headed for the smallest state in the union

The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.

Huh, I learned something new today. I had no idea that was RI's full name. Hey, James Woods is from there!

Yup. That's pretty much all I have to say. Auntie AM is throwing a party for Izzy. Thankfully, it's a nice hot day, and we're taking KG's car. Which means I can drink.

Woohoo!

Basset Wisdom

At lunch today I was recounting a tale from my pothead days. Amusing anecdote, for sure. Driving home, though, I recalled the occasion a tad more vividly and thought I'd share.
Lucky you.
A quick set up: The year was 1993. I was living in an affluent neighborhood just outside of Bridgeport, CT. I was living with my father and stepmother. My father was the rector of the local Episcopalian church, and they lived in the rectory. Right next to the church.
I worked at a scenic shop in Bridgeport. Building stage sets for Broadway and stuff like that. Cool job. I was a non-union shophand.
Anyhow... this particular occasion, my parents were out of town and I was staying home alone. Just me and Barney, the basset hound.

It was a nice, sunny summer day. The work day had just ended. One of my work buddies asked me if I wanted to take a spin with him and smoke a spliff. Sure, I thought. Why not?
I had been getting some pretty decent weed whenever I made the trek up to Boston. In CT, I didn't really have a connection. So, I wasn't about to pass up the chance to toke.
So, we hopped in his car and went for a drive. He handed me a joint and I sparked. I remember that it was made with this really cool wrapping paper that had a wire glued into it. As you smoked the joint, you pushed down the wire, and you ended up with a nice handle to keep from burning your fingers. No need for a roach clip.
Now this guy had seemed pretty cool. We talked a lot, and I had known he was a fellow smoker for a while, so we had that in common. As we drove around the neighborhood, I started to get a slightly different feeling.
He remained cool, but he started talking about getting together with me and selling pot. He knew I used to work for a funeral home, and he wanted me to get some embalming fluid to spike the pot with. Apparently that gives you a pretty intense, hallucinogenic high. All well and good, except for the fact that embalming fluid also kills you. It's some seriously bad shit. One time when I was working in the prep room , the old guy who was doing the embalming dropped a glass bottle of cavity fluid on the floor. Cavity fluid is concentrated embalming fluid. I was clear across the room, a good 15 feet away from him. Not even a second elapsed between the bottle breaking and me suddenly being unable to breathe or see. Thankfully, the other guy made a run for the door and grabbed me as well. It was like being hit with pepper mace. It was a good half hour before my eyes stopped tearing.
Besides that, embalming fluid causes cancer like kitties cause smiles. Bad shit.
I did my best to disabuse him of the notion.
Anyway... as we drove on I realized I was getting pretty damn fucked up. Not the normal pot high. We drove back to the shop and tried to play it cool, as some people were still there. As I walked through the parking lot, everything started slowing down. I could feel the asphalt under my feet melting. As I walked, it seemed I was on a treadmill, walking and walking but not moving. I was tripping my balls off.
I got in my own car and drove home. I managed to drive OK, but there were several times when I suddenly realized I had no idea where I was or how I got there. Thankfully, my autopilot had kicked in, and I managed to make it back home without incident.
Barney was waiting at the door, barking with excitment. I let him out into the yard, and sat down outside with a bag of chips and a soda I didn't remember buying. Barney, being a dog, was very interested in my chips.
And that's when it happened. Suddenly, I heard barney's thoughts. I could understand his barks and whines, the expressions on his face, and the gestures of his tail. We began to communicate.
It was weird, and very real. I had a momentary insight, a connection with this canine. I'm pretty sure he understood me as well. We talked about people food and squirrels. I watched him run around the yard, barking at people walking by. But he kept coming back, begging for more Doritos.
It was then that I saw the duality of a domesticated canine. He ran on instinct, hence the barking at strangers and running around the yard like dogs do. But this instinct kept getting subverted by conditioning. People food. Begging. Acting like a pet. I saw the struggle in his eyes. The struggle between being a dog and being a pet.
I felt pity for him.
I spent probably a good hour outside with Barney, talking rather loudly. It was only after a bit that I noticed parishoners coming in and out of the church. I figured it was probably in my best interest to go inside and ride out my buzz in private.

So, what is the point of this missive? Look, I've smoked a lot of pot in my day. There are a number of positive things about it, and there are a number of negative things about it. I'm not going to take a stance one way or another. It is what it is. On occasion though, I have altered my consciousness, and there is something to be said for that. Seeing things from a new perspective. The trick is holding on to that perspective once the high wears off. It's not easy. But it does happen.

When Gulls Go Bad

What is wrong with the world when this is the biggest news story going? Maybe we need a terrorist attack to shake things up a bit. The media has gotten so lazy they can't even spell "allegedly" correctly.

To make matters worse, I work with this guy's wife. That there is a story in of it's self.

She lay open like a road

Well, as promised, I've quit bitching about my miserable ride home from work every day. Funny, I have yet to complain about my morning commute.

Most days, it is what it is. The day is just starting, and although I don't like being late to work, I'm not in any particular rush to get there.

That said, this morning's ride in was a real crotch biter. I guess there was a big accident on the Zakim Bridge. By the time I got there, it was long gone. All I know is I popped in The Resident's "Warner Brothers Album" as I pulled out of the driveway at my son's daycare. From there, it's half a mile to the highway. The album is approx. 40 minutes long. Just as I managed to get my car onto the highway, the album was starting over.

Oh well, it was a slow day at work anyhow.

The weekend was entertaining. KG's father came up from North Carolina to see the baby. We all trooped in to the Children's Museum in Boston. That was cool. It was pouring out, and we took the T in. That was a bit of a shock. Both KG and I used to ride the Red Line every day, and I could fill notebooks with all the bitching and oaning about how much that fucking sucked.

Anyhow, the last time I rode the T (which was a while ago), you gave the guy in the window some cash, he gave you some tokens. You put said tokens in the gate, and pushed your way through the turnstile. Well... we arrived at the T station to discover no guy. Just a machine that only took debit or credit cards, and issued you a ticket instead of tokens. A Charlie Pass. Cute. I too always wondered why the stupid bitch didn't just give the poor guy a nickel.

Also, the turnstiles have been replaced with some new fangled electronic saloon doors. Pretty cool. The highlight was seeing South Station finally completed. It was like a whole new station!

The boy enjoyed the train ride. He's big in to Thomas the Tank Engine, so his first train ride was very exciting. Even if it was just the T. The baby... she slept for the entire trip.

Hoarse and Frosty Words

Last Friday's commute: 93 minutes
Monday's commute: 95 minutes
Tueday's commute: 35 minutes
Wednesday's commute: 55 minutes
Thursday's commute: 55 minutes

So, I've managed to presume this much about the ride home based on 5 day's travel: Normal, everyday commute with clear weather is 35 minutes. Twice what it should be, but par for the course. If it's raining out, add 20 minutes. If there's an accident or heavy rain, add an hour.

So why does a little rain make for more traffic? Sure, in theory people drive a little slower due to the conditions. But this doesn't explain the serious delays I encounter. Reduced speeds should not bring the highway to a grinding halt. Molius has theorized that subconsciously people think if they can't see the city due to low clouds, it might not be there, and they drive slower to prevent themselves from driving into oblivion. I'll buy into that. The amphibian part of the human brain has strange powers, and can make people do funny things. But, as far as my ride home goes, we're all driving away from the city... so I'm not sure that is as much a factor. I've thought sometimes that commuters who usually take the T opt to drive in bad weather. That would help explain the increased amount of cars, but it doesn't make a lot of sense.

Whatever the case may be, it fills me with anger and rage. A 90 minute ride home leaves me so pissed I could shit pure bile. You know it's bad when you're hoping that whatever accident is holding you up was really bad, and you're hoping people died to make your suffering worth while. That ain't good for the old soul.

Speaking of shitting, poor RB was suffering today. He had a colonoscopy yesterday, and apparently all the barium in his GI tract turned to cement over night, and he was badly bound up and in pain today. Poor bastard. Nothing worse than being so constipated your back hurts.

Here's hoping he manages to drop his company off at the pool tonight.

Sit me down with Ezra Pound

Today's 9.4 mile drive to my afternoon large regular coffee: 35 minutes.

Not perfect, but better.

Happy 666 Day!

{Edit} Just as I published this, I caught an ad for, of all things... The Davinci Code video game. Give me a freaking break!

Idle Thoughts, the Sequel

Take 2:

500 Rutherford Ave Charlestown, MA (work) to 125 Hancock St North Quincy, MA (Dunkin Donuts)
Distance: 9.4 miles
Approximate Driving Time: 14 minutes
Actual Driving Time: 95 minutes

Today there was no rain. There were no accidents or breakdowns. There was no tornado, tsunami, Godzilla or locust. Just a couple 100,000 dim witted, tail pipe fucking, shit sucking assholes all driving in the same direction as me.

Fuck Boston. Fuck the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority. Fuck the Tip O'Neill Tunnel.

And a big old special, hearty fuck to the stretch of Interstate 93 South between exit 28 and exit 12.

Oh, and fuck all you commuters. All I wanted to do was take my damn kid to the park before going home. Thanks for shitting on that.

Idle Thoughts

There's a bit of a disconnect between what is and what should be.

500 Rutherford Ave Charlestown, MA (work) to 125 Hancock St North Quincy, MA (Dunkin Donuts)
Distance: 9.4 miles
Approximate Driving Time: 14 minutes
Actual Driving Time: 92 minutes

I've been living with the hellish 93S commute for some time now, and for the most part I am resigned to it. But seriously, an hour and a half to drive less than 10 miles? Fuck me sideways.

There was a bit of a weather situation today that, while not the sole cause of this mind numbing drive, certainly exacerbated the situation. We had torrential downpours this afternoon. Weymouth wasn't too bad, and it was drizzling in C-town when I left. But Quincy got a friggin drenching. Raining cats and dogs? Only if we're talking about panthers and Newfoundlands. The flooding was insane. At one point I had to drive through over a foot of water.

Additionally, my sanity was saved thanks to Molius. For the record, the album ended just as I reached the gas tanks. Santa Dog 2000 was pretty damn cool.

I had actually started off the day by opening a word file so I could write out a nice long entry about my painful interactions with the staff of my neighborhood QwikiMart. That'll have to wait for a later date.

Summer's here

Hot, muggy, stupid weather.

The lawn mower is broke, and I only got half the lawn mowed before it died on me.

4 days with no butts (not counting minor setback last night while hanging out with names & C).

I'm really fucking tired and have nothing to say.

Those were the days....

To think, MTV actually used to play music. Let alone avant garde.
You'd think those chicken shits would honor these guys at some point, seeing as they were pioneers of music video, and MTV aired quite a bit of them when they stated and had very little to show.

King Ink

Well, well, well....

Nick cave & PJ Harvey live

Kylie Minogue, Shane McGowan & Nick!
(oh, and let's not forget Blixa)

It's sad. MTV used to play music.

And I have to point y'all to Loverman. Just because it's pretty fucking cool.

I saw these guys live once, and I spent the entire show standing still with my mouth ajar. Most intense, scary beautiful shit I ever heard.

OK, YouTube friggin rocks! I saw this video on beavis and Butthead once, and have never been able to find it since. Until now.

Well, enough. Baby girl needs my attention.

Finally...

... the sun came out! I looked up and saw a great big ball of yellow fire in the sky.

It's about time. I was seriously on the verge of kicking the living shit out of some dumb fuck just because.

De plane, boss, de plane!

So, here's the ink I got on my arm last week....

40 cubits X 40 cubits

Well, apparently I didn't get the call from the almighty to do the building. So, whoever is in charge of building the ark, do me a favor... when you're collecting two of every animal, what say you forget about the fucking raccoons, OK?

I've reached the point where the sound of the rain is about to push me over the edge. I shouldn't complain, as we're not getting the flooding that the North Shore is. But seriously, I can't take much more. I'm losing it, man.

What's new with you?

Not much to report over on this end. I just noticed I haven't posted since Monday, so t's time for an update.

Today was my last day on leave. Monday morning will find me back to the old 9-5 grind. Or 8-4, as the case may be. More like 8:30-3:50, as long as we're being honest. At any rate, I'm actually looking forward to going back. I like the routine. It gives me structure.

I should probably change my poll while I'm here. I ended up going to Xtreme Tattoos on Wednesday. It's right down the street from TKJr's daycare, and I know a little about the owner, so I thought I'd give it a try. I got a bluebird with a heart and Izzy's name. I'll post a pic next week.

Brought TKJr home a Casio keyboard. I managed to figure out the beginning of the Thomas theme tonight. He's pretty good already, and seems to have fun playing with it. I'm hoping he gets good.

The weather is supposed to be shit ass all weekend. Biblical shit ass from what Firefix is telling me. I might take the boy to the Child's Play Museum tomorrow so I can get him out of the house for a bit.

Well, that's all the news that's unfit to print. Time to watch Bubba Ho Temp. I should mention in passing that I decided to participate in the class action suit against Netflix, so for one month I'll be getting 4 DVDs at a time instead of 3. I've heard all about the dreaded throttle. I've been a customer since 2001, and I love them. I've never had a problem with Netflix, and I always get my movies right away. Granted, I'm not a "frequent renter". I tend to hold on to the discs for a while. For the record, though, if I was a frequent renter, I still wouldn't be bent about it. I only decided to take advantage of the free upgrade because today was the second time Netflix emailed me to tell me I could, and I've been watching more movies lately. Plus the TV season is ending for most of my shows, so an extra disc a week will come in handy.

People complain to fucking much. But, I'm not one to miss out on taking advantage of it if I can.

That there is some funny shit

This morning when KG and I got back from her doctor's appointment (she has a bladder infection. Fun.), I noticed an envelope in the front hall addressed to our upstairs neighbor. It was from National Grid. I didn't think much of it, other than it seemd odd to me that a utility company would hand deliver a letter (read no stamp, handwritten addressee.)

A little later I went out to run some errands. KG was home resting, and Dick (the upstairs redneck) knocked on the door. He wanted to know if we had power.

We did.

He stated that they had lost their power. Then he corrected himself. Their power had been turned off because they haven't paid for it.

He told KG that he had discovered that all the lights in the basement and in the hallways are on their bill. Dick went on to say that it wasn't fair, and he was going to call the landlord, since their bill has been $300 a month.

KG has an eternal mechanism that I do not. It stops her from opening her mouth and causing trouble. Mind you, it doesn't always work, and often time she over rides it. Point being, she actually has one. So, she didn't say anything. She kept any witty remarks to herself. Just as well, since wit would be lost on this pleib.

Here's the rub. We used to live upstairs. We never, ever paid anywhere near $300 a month for electricity. Why? because we didn't leave every friggin light in the basement on for weeks at a stretch. Since these jackasses moved in, I've been the one going into the basement in the middle of the night to shut the lights off. When I close down the house for the night, I can see the basement lights shining through the floorboards. I usually shut the hall lights off as well. Shit for brains (and that goes for the entire family) leave the lights on every time they go down there. They also do laundry every day, all day and all night.

I don't know what Dick expects the landlord to do anyhow. The house is wired the way it is wired. Not much can be done to change that. It certainly isn't our problem. Well... it's our problem in so far as there are now no lights in the basement, and I actually do need to go through some of the boxes I put down there. Plus, we're getting a dryer, so now I'll be doing laundry down there as well.

Not to mention the fact, should Dick be thinking we owe him money, that this same shithead had his washing machine hooked up to our hot water heater since they moved in (recently disconnected when the fuse for the heater blew and the landlord pointed out to him who it belonged to). Which means we have been paying to do their fucking laundry for 7 months.

All I can do is laugh. Tonight it is dead quiet and very, very dark up there. I don't think they were even smart enough to buy some candles. They are home, I can hear Dick's friggin nextel walkie-talkie squawking. But they are sitting in pitch dark with no TV or stereo.

I said ha-ha.

Lapti Nek, fucker!

Best. News. Ever.

Seriously, I am psyched. Like most fanboys, I had concerns Uncle George wouldn't do this for a long time. Now TKJr. can grow up seeing Han shoot first. The way it was meant to be.

In other news: I added eQuake Alert today. Damn, there are a lot of friggin earthquakes!

No news is no news

Not much happening over here worth reporting. Not even much to rant about, since I've been spending most of my time in the house, doing baby related things.

Good news: I'm back on the Netflix wagon. It's a nice change of pace to actualy utilized their service.

KG and I watched "Fear Strikes Out" the other night. Featuring a very young Anthony Perkins. The movie was so-so accounting of the troubled Red Sox player Jimmy Piersall. Probably the closest I've come in a long time to paying any attention to sports history.

Took TKJr to see the Star Wars exhibit at the MOS. He did his Daddy proud by crawling under the railing around the Skywalker landspeeder and attempting to get in it. I sacrificed a great video shot of it in order to retrieve him before security got involved.

Well, off to pick the tyke up from daycare. Y'all be good.

Oh, the Ironing

A couple of weeks ago I signed up for Google's adsense. In theory, you can use your blog to generate some income by having people click on ads placed on your page. Of course, in order for that to work, you need traffic.

I don't get much, save my small band of friends and lonely web surfers looking for animal fuckers.

The main reason I decided to sign up was because the adsense is supposed to scan your posts and place ads based on your blog's content. I thought it might be amusing to see what might show up.

It has indeed been amusing. Now, though, I'm annoyed.

The ad that is currently showing on my blog (as of this posting) is for Thomas the Train Engine toys. Why would this annoy me? As I posted a little while ago, the toys are very expensive. I'm looking for discount prices because I want to get them for my son.

So here, right on my site, is a link. I can't click on it, though, because adsense monitors your ISP when you sign up. If they catch you clicking on your own banner, you get booted.

So, if any of you get bored, go ahead and click on the Thomas ad, and let me know what you find.

Dancing Izzy

Thanks to Molius for the GIF.

My little gal

That's the girl who will someday break my heart. You can check her out here

I stand corrected

So, as it turns out, spending the afternoon walking around the mall was good for getting the baby moving.

At around 1;30 Monday morning, KG shook me awake. She was having contractions every 5 minutes. I got up, put on some coffee and called my Mom. We got to the hospital around 3.

They got KG set up, gave her an epidural. Not long after that, her water broke.

At 8:31AM, Izzy was born. She was 8lbs 2oz, 20" long.

Whew.

You have got to be shitting me

KG and I decided to head down to Kingston today and pop into the Independence Mall. It's a good mall. Has a big ass Target , a Newbury Comics, and it's usually not very crowded. I stumbled across it last year when I did very special troop last year.

Anyhow, we were hoping all the walking around would help expand KG's cervix. So far, nothing note worthy.

TKJr had a pretty good time. We couldn't leave Target without buying a Thomas the Tank Engine toy. He's really into Thomas right now. Target doesn't carry the wooden "railway system", only the die cast. Those don't fit on his tracks so well. He really liked a large Thomas shaped carrier, but again, that was not designed for the wooden "railway system." Whatever. I managed to find a push along Thomas that plays the theme and makes train noises. He was thrilled.

A little further into the mall we came across a store called "Wicked Cool Toys." Indeed, they had some cool shit. They also had the wooden Thomas "railway system." Infact, as we walked through the back of the store, TKJr spied a Thomas table with a whole track set up and a bunch of engines. So we let him play with it.

I wish I could describe the look of happy contentment on his face. As I watched him, I decided to find the Thomas display so I could gauge how much the tracks, playsets and engines cost. I was thinking of replacing his current Brio playsets with the official Thomas ones.

I was in for a nasty surprise. $20 an engine. $15 a car. $50-$100 for the playsets. The fucking table was almost $300! I did some quick math and determined that the set up my son was currently enjoying would cost me the same as 2 sets of stormtrooper armor.

What the flying fuck??? My son deserves to be happy. He deserves to have brightly painted chunks of wood with wheels to push around a track if it so pleases him. But come on... Christ on a cracker. They are toys. Toys!

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am sick and fucking tired of overgrown asshole children who buy "collectable" toys. I have had it out the ass with "Limited Edition" and "retired".

THEY ARE FUCKING TOYS. Toys are for kids. Toys are for playing with.

If people want to collect them and keep them in there friggin boxes, so be it. But when my 2 year old can't have his favorite fucking steam engine because his parents either can't find him or can't afford him, I get pissed.

Stupid fucking DVD-R vs DVD+R

I finally decided to break out the manual for our recordable DVD player tonight. I bought it a while ago with the intent of making DVDs of our home movies. Now that TKJr wants to watch his own home movies every day, I figured it was a good time.

So, I read over the instructions. Hooked everything up in the bedroom, broke out the package of recordable DVDs I bought when I got the player. Cued up a tape.

Invalid disc. What the frig? I look at the instructions. The model I bought only uses DVD+R or DVD+RW. I have a package of 5 DVD-R.

Fuck me sideways. To further piss me off, when I googled "recordable DVD", I found a FAQ page on about.com. Seems most recordable DVD players and all PC DVD burners use the DVD-R. But... there are some recordable DVDs that only use the DVD+R format. And that's what I got.

So, I packed everything up again. Thankfully, tomorrow we're going to the Kingston Mall for a Target run. I'll pick up the right freaking discs then.

Right now, I'm going to shut this sucker down as well, resist the urge to bitch about my wireless issues first, and go fuck my wife. It's not going to be easy or fun. We're trying to trigger contractions so we can have this damn baby already.

Later, gators.

No baby yet

KG is still at 3cm and not happy about it. We should be getting a call today to schedule her for induction. If she doesn't go into labor on her own, or her water doesn't break (neither of which seem likely), we'll be having the baby either Monday or Tuesday. If any of you out there are praying folks, pray for Monday. I don't think the poor girl can take much more.

Me, I'm just tired. I want to sleep for a day or two. That'd be nice.

I just picked up a bottle of the new Coke Blak. It's pretty good. Small bottle. I was hoping for a regular soda with coffee flavor. Whatever. It's not bad, and I have a feeling it'll join Pitch Black as a short lived obsession.

Time for a shit, shower and shave. Y'all be good.

Piggyback this, fucker!

When I bought my wireless router at BestBuy a while back, they wanted to charge me $150 to encrypt it for me. I passed on that offer.

Now, thanks to my IS buds CC and Molius and a helpful MS site, the ass clown who was kicking me off my own network can kiss my encrypted ass. Woohoo for WPA!

So, no new developments on the baby front. KG hasn't popped yet. She had an ultrasound on Monday. We got some really cool face pics of my daughter. Today KG had a non-stress test. Everything looks good. She has another NS test Thursday, and they scheduled yet another for Saturday. She has an ob/gyn appointment on Thursday as well, and we were hoping they would decide to induce her on Friday. The folks today thought they would do it Monday.

Anyway, after much talking with KG about what's left to do before the baby arrives, I've decided to start my LOA on Thursday. I'm only taking 3 weeks, so I've been trying to save it until the baby arrives.

However, one to many dumbasses at work have asked me if she's had he baby yet. I've had my fill.

So, tomorrow will be my last day for a fortnight and a half. I have a feeling I'll be returning to one hell of a cluster fuck. W00t.

It is accomplished

It's Good Friday.
1,973 years ago a bunch of paranoid Jews talked the Romans into nailing a young radical to a cross. So the story goes.

This time of year I always find myself thinking deep thoughts about JC, religion, god, all those good things. I can't escape it. The passion is deeply ingrained in me. I am the son of a preacher man, after all. I spent my formative years heavily involved in the church.

As a young adult I remained involved. Acolyte. Lay reader. Youth group leader. I even considered the priesthood. I've felt the calling, but I was never really sure what to make of that.

I fell away from the church. Ironically enough, it was the intensity of my faith in Christ that drove me away from being a Christian. It's been a long time since I've read the Good Book, but from what I do recall, there's very little in common between what JC preached and what exists today as Christianity. I had a problem with that.

There were a good number of years where I really struggled with my faith. Then my mind opened to new perspectives. That allowed me to gain an understanding of faith, of JC, of mythology, of life.

It doesn't really matter if Jesus was divine. It doesn't even matter if he was real. What does matter is it's a good story. A good example to live by.

Faith doesn't have to be blind.

This year, once again, I meditate, mull, ponder and bullshit about matters of faith. I may not go to church on Easter, but I think god would be pleased that I'm thinking. I have a personal relationship with what passes for faith with me. I don't mindlessly recite text while dressed in a suit. But, I am conversing with, at the very least, myself.

I'm 33 this year. That gives me some pause. Jesus and I are the same age. I have a hard time imagining myself in his shoes. Then again, I'm not the son of god. Still, me... hanging on a cross to save the people I see every day?

I'll say this: Jesus, I don't know if you were the son of god or not. You might have been the messiah, you might have been a mere man. Either way, you were the fucking bomb. To believe enough to die for the fuckers on this planet called people, that's something else.

I salute you, dude.

Stop me if you've heard this one

Jesus and Muhammad walk into a talent agent's office. Jesus says, "We're a family act, and we'd like you to represent us."

The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too old-fashioned."

Muhammad says, "But, this is really special."

The agent says, "Okay, well what's the act?".........

South Park tonight was brilliant. Great job, Matt & Trey. I fucking love you guys. Seriously.

Say it ain't so

Yeah, Bickford's Braintree has shuttered it's doors and slipped silently into the night.

I drive by the damn thing every day and was totally unaware until my mother mentioned as we drove back from ikea last night. I feel like I've lost a friend.

True, the place has spirled away from what I remember most fondly. First, they changed the interior from 70's orange vinyl and dark wood paneling to a fancier green and white. That was years ago. Then Braintree went no smoking. I always loved the Big B because the smoking section was the man part. The non-smokers were confined to a small space way in the back.

A few years ago they became Bickford's Grille. I stopped going, as it was putting on airs and was too far gone from what it was for my taste. But it was still there.

Now, the windows are dark, the seats are empty. There is a For Sale sign on the door. Anyone want to buy it with me? Eh?

So many nights spent drinking cup after cup of coffee, smoking butt after butt and talking about everything and nothing at all. Mycalls and I became best buddies there. As did Dude and I.

No matter where I was living, no matter what I was doing, who I was fucking, Bickford's was a homebase. A place to reconnect.

In the grand scheme of things, it's not that important. There are other places to meet. But it's been a personal landmark for a large part of my life, and I am grieved by it's loss.

I have my momentos. A coffee cup, postcards, the old school "Late Night Menu", the regular menu. There are pictures. And memories. Many, many memories.

Guess I get around

create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.

I can't really figure out how, if I've been to 25 states, it comes out to 49%. Further proof that Rhode Island is not really a state.

Dust in the Wind

Bickford's is gone.

You rearrange me til I'm sane

Holy shit.

I just finished listening to Dark Side of the Moon in Quad, man. It's late, so I'll redirect you to Molius for the details.

Suffice to say I am blown away. I wish I could have cranked it a little louder, but I didn't get started until almost 11PM, so I had to mantain a reasonable volume.

I'm going to need to hear that again. And again. And again.

Oh, and thanks for the short cut, Mole. It's a thing of beauty. Now to figure out those chords...

Fucked

KG and I received a nice surprise kick in the figurative balls today.
She went to pick TKJr. up from daycare and had (more or less) the following conversation with our daycare provider:

Daycare: You stay home after baby born?
KG: For a few weeks, yeah. Then I have to go back to work.
Daycare: Who watch new baby?
KG: Stunned silence. Um.... what do you mean?
Daycare: I have no openings.

Apparently, it never occured to this woman that we might want to have both our children in the same daycare. Or maybe she thought my company was going to double my salary as a reward for adding to the overpopulation of the planet. Neither KG or I thought to ask her about, as we (wrongly) presumed it was a given.
The result, the dumb bitch didn't leave an opening. She told KG that one of the other kids there has a new sister on a waiting list.

Not only is this news to us, it's news to us TWELVE FUCKING DAYS BEFORE OUR BABY IS DUE!!

So, KG is in an evil, inconsolable mood. We're in serious trouble. Obviously we can't afford for her not to work. If we could afford that, she wouldn't be working now. She doesn't slave away at BifDis for the fun of it.

We're not going to be able to find daycare, let alone reliable daycare in 12 weeks. The reason we ended up with our current daycare provider for TKJr. is because every other place had a six month waiting list. Not to mention every other place costs twice as much.

Neither of us has a friggin clue as to what we're going to do. We're screwed. Seriously. Fucked. Buggered.

Our daycare provider has been a blessing in many ways. Affordable, and TKJr. has been very happy and well loved there. He's learned to speak Cantonese. She has been a reliable, trustworthy caretaker.

She's out of openings? Well, there will be one before too long. We're not going to send our children to different daycares. That's lame.

What are we going to do? I have no god damn idea.

Ode to a boob

Ah, the female breast. One of my favorite creations. Call them boobs, tits, melons, fun bags, whatever... I'm a fan.

They are fun to hold, fun to squeeze. Fun to look at, fun to lick. Put simply, the breast is the best.

Tonight, I'm thinking about DC's boob. As much as I enjoy thinking about mammaries, I wish I didn't have her's on my mind. Not that she doesn't have nice ones. In fact, they're pretty perky at 42. Not bad at all.

No, the reason I wish I wasn't thinking about her tit is because she's having a needle biopsy tomorrow. Her doctor found a spot during her last mammogram. That ugly C world looms it's head, and I'm not talking about "cunt." Cancer.

Of course, at this point, nothing is certain. It could be nothing, it could be benign. But the time that passes between something being noticed or brought to your attention and the getting a diagnosis is nerve wracking. Scary. Especially when you're talking about cancer.

Being such a big fan of the breast, the idea of breast cancer is particularly disturbing to me. I can't imagine what that must be like. Yes, a woman is more than the sum of her body parts. It would be wrong, though, to ignore the importance, symbolic and otherwise, of the breast. Men don't really have a comparable situation. Sure, prostate cancer is the big concern for men. Testicular cancer is pretty scary as well. Those are both internal problems though. Neither the prostate or the nuts have the external profile that the breast does.

Not to mention, the idea of any part of your body turning on you kind of freaks me out.

Anyway, enough. My point here being I'm thinking about DC's titty, and hoping all is well with it. It's a good breast, a fine breast. As previously stated, it's damn good looking for it's age. I sincerly hope all is well with it. All is healthy with it.

Be good, boob. Stay healthy.

I should add my thoughts are with DC as well. I'm not a praying man, but occasionally I do have a one sided conversation with g-o-d when I'm on the porch having a smoke. So tonight we'll discuss boobies and friends. I'll be asking that He take a little time to look down on my lunch buddy and make sure she's OK.

Lastly, let me say it now so it doesn't become an issue later. I'm not wearing the ribbon.

RIP Chef?

Wow. What an episode. I laughed, I cried, I spit beer in my wife's face.

I can't get on the South Park Studios site right now, so I can't confirm if it's all true or just a big farce. Either way, it was a brilliant episode.

"Super Adventure Club." I love it.

Now I am the master

TKJr is officialy obsessed. We watched ANH, let's see... 6 times this weekend. He's already started memorizing lines.

While playing with a 3P0 figure "Oh look, a transport. Over here! Over here!"

That's my favorite so far. I bought him the Vader voice changer helmet today. Also got him a new pair of R2 sneakers, as he outgrew his other ones.

I think I've created a monster. Or at the very least, a mini me.

Other weekend highlights: Went rug shopping on Saturday. Didn't buy, just looked. Lowe's seems to be the best price.
Laundry today. Not too crowded. That was nice. Planning on hitting IKEA next weekend for a new couch and some furniture for Jr.
Bed soon, work tomorrow.

Pogue Mahone, y'all.

Yup, kiss my ass. Seriously.

Oh, and happy wearing of the green to all the Irish out there. I'll be sucking down a pint or two of stout in your honor.

Pogue Mahone, y'all.

That's right. Happy wearing of the green.

And kiss my ass. Seriously.

Sympathetic Syncope?

Strange day today.

I'm on my second day of not smoking. I had 2 butts total today. One this morning around 10 and the other around 2:45 in the afternoon.

This afternoon, prior to having a smoke, I was in one of the clinical managers' office having a discussion. Suddenly I felt kind of dizzy. Weird, but since I was talking to a soul sucker, I figured it was just the draining effect of her personality working on me.

Well, some time went by, and as I sat quietly at my desk I kept having dizzy spells. Mind you, I was seated and resting. So, I decided to have someone take my blood pressure.

First reading : 122/90. Not good. Hypertensive. I was a tad concerned. Mostly because it was late afternoon, so the Adderol was wearing off, I hadn't had a coffee since lunch, and I wasn't smoking. Those were all the things I could think of that tend to raise your blood pressure.

The girl that gave me the reading suggested I get another one before leaving work. She was concerned about me driving home. I didn't think the situation was that bad, but hey... she's a nurse, I'm not.

Anyway, I sat down with her as I was leaving. This time: 140/90. She was upset. Made me promise to call her when I got home.

I got to the car, called my wife. Typical KG, she was an asshole about it.

Me: Had a bit of a scare just now. Got my bp read, I'm hypertensive.
KG: Why did you get your blood pressure read?
Me: I was having dizzy spells! Besides, I'm supposed to monitor it.
KG: That's great. I have high blood pressure, and now you do too. You should rest. I'll take care of everything tonight...
Me: bye.

I hung up on her. She's 8 months pregnant, so i can't bitch too much. But... did it ever cross her mind that maybe the fact that her bp is high and she might be confined to bed rest for the remainder of her term MIGHT HAVE A NEGATIVE EFFECT ON MY STRESS LEVEL??? Hey, she's carrying a baby, and fucked up shit happens to your body. High blood pressure is a normal potential risk. Me, I'm 33 and a male. High blood pressure like that is unusual and potentially serious. On top of it all, I wasn't really that woried about it. I was just calling to share the information and have a chuckle over how worried the ladies I work with get about such things.

Some days, I really wish I was fucking gay. At least I'd ne able to understand the people I'm attracted to.

Breaking up is hard to do

You've been my constant companion for 14 years now.

Right there with me through every shitstorm and every sunny day. You sustained me, inspired me, distracted me and detracted from me.

Yes. For all you've given, you have also taken. Taken years off my life. Taken money from my pocket. Stolen hours from my family and friends.

511,000 minutes, give or take. Stolen time I will never get back. The toll you have had on my life, that remains to be seen.

But I love you none the less. I am devoted to you. I am still seduced by you. I am addicted to you.

Now I need what you take from me. I don't have it to offer anymore, as I owe it to others. I need to be here with them, not with you.

Today I erased your memory from my car. The place we have spent so many hours. Alone with our music and our thoughts.

Tonight we dance one last time. Tomorrow, I remove you from my life. I remove you from my person. I cleanse your presence from me.

But I will not escape your grasp. I love you still. So much. I will long for you. I will ache for you. Because I am weak.

However, I will resist, for I need to be strong. My son, he believes me to be strong. To be right. To be in control. For him I must be.

I'll always love you. I'll always want you. I know you will always be waiting, arms open, to take me back.

Good-bye, nicotine. Please understand. It's not you. It's me.

I'll call you sometime.

People fucking stuffed animals

A rough week at work came to an end today, finding me sitting at my desk, bored and banging around the net. I actually have tons of work I have to do, but it has to wait until Monday so we can close out last month with no errors.

We got bonuses at work today. That was a nice treat. Almost an extra paycheck. I think I might be spending mine on a new sofa.

KG had a check up at the OB today. Good news: The doctor is pretty sure the baby has flipped and is no longer in the breech position.

Bad news: KG was slightly hypertensive and is being tested for preeclampsia. From what we've read this evening, most likely she doesn't have it, as she's not in any of the high risk groups. Plus, it seems like worst case scenario she'd be ordered to bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. That, however, poses a big finanical problem.

She has a follow up with the OB tomorrow, so we're both keeping our fingers crossed until then.

On a lighter note, I lifted this link because, well... who doesn't enjoy watching animated boobies jiggle?

meme!

Because I'm bored and it's too late to start anything else:

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
Thomas' Railway Word Book "Heat from the firebox turns water into steam."

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?
I just cracked my hand into the wall.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Thomas the Tank Engine

4. Without looking, guess what time it is:
11:15

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?
11:05

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The humidifier in my kids room (on the monitor) and the furnace. And my wife watching The Ben Stiller Show in the bedroom.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
8:30, for a smoke.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
ella's latest entry.

9. What are you wearing?
This:
Black sweatpants, a maroon long sleeve T and a gray T that says "WXLZ", black Nikes. I was painting today, OK?

10. Did you dream last night?
I dreamed I was sleeping.

11. When did you last laugh?
A few hours ago when I put my son to bed.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Pictures of my kid, pictures of my wife as a kid, a glamour shot potrait of me in my stormtrooper armor, a framed print of some cat painting.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
My sister stopped by for a visit.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
It's entertaining me.

15. What is the last film you saw?
Some Aussie flick that was on IFC late last night.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
A really big house, and some biker scout armor.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
I have a tattoo of Kokopelli on my left arm.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I'd kill my upstairs neighbors. Petty, but true.

19. Do you like to dance?
Depends on the amount of alcohol.

20. George Bush:
Fucking twit.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Nicola.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
He is.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
New Zealand, in a heartbeat.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Umm, sorry about that.

25. 4 people who must also do this meme in THEIR journal:
Well, I stole this. So, if you've just read it, you'd better do it too.

Fuck the police

I live on a quiet side street. It's right off of one of the main roads here in good old Weymouth. Every day I drive to the bottom of the street and take a right. I'm pretty familiar with the intersection, and I can safely judge how fast approaching traffic is going and whether or not I have the space and time to pull out.

Yesterday morning I approached the intersection, and looked to the left to see if anyone was coming. About a block away was a cop car. I had plenty of time to pull out, and I did.

Within a few minutes, I realized the cop was riding my rear bumper. I took my usual left, the cop followed. I drove another quarter mile with him on my ass. Then the lights statred flashing.

I pulled over wondering what the hell I might have done. The cop got out and walked up to me.

Cop: When you pull out of my street and you see me coming, what do you do?

Me: Um, I guess I should stop?

Cop: You can't just come tearing out of that street. Do you live on that street?

Me: Yes.

Cop: Well watch it next time.

Me: Yes, sir. I eyeballed you coming, and I felt I had plenty of time.

Cop: Well, don't do it again.

I was a little pissed, but I'm smart enough not to push it with the fuzz. First off, I didn't "tear" out. I stopped, looked, turned. The only way he could have come up on me so fast was if he was driving in excess of the 30 mph speed limit.

He didn't give me a ticket, so I was glad of that. Not that I did anything to merit one. I'm guessing he might live on my street. If so, he's probably aware of how fast people bomb up and down it. On any given morning I flip someone the bird as my wife attempts to pull out and they come flying by. But me, I was not speeding.

I put it out of my mind. Then, this morning as I'm standing beside my wife's car, we both notice an unmarked patrol car drive by and park 2 houses up. We exchanged raised eyebrows. She got in her car, I waved good bye to her and my son and she drove off. I noticed the cruiser turn around and park on the opposite side of the street 2 houses up. facing the same direction I would be driving.

I got in my car and backed out. I drove down to the intersection. I had to stop and wait as there were cars in front of me. I pulled into the corner qwiki mart and bought a pack of smokes. Came out, got in my car, took the same left I did yesterday. I look in my rear view, there's the frigging cruiser, right behind me. The son of a bitch followed me all the way to the highway. It was the same cop from yesterday.

Fucking A. This guy now has a bug up his ass over me. And I did not do ANYTHING wrong. I didn't give him any shit. I'll tell you this much, if he decides to follow me tomorrow, I'm either going to pull over and have words with him, or I'm calling the station and making a complaint about harrasment.

A Volcano, for Christ sake!

OK, maybe it's a tad pointless to rant about something that happened 26 years ago. Be that as it may...
I'm watching (or more accurately just finished watching) Seconds from Disaster. Tonight's episode is about the eruption of Mt Saint Helens in 1980. One of the survivors is some guy who was camping with his friend not too far from, um... an active volcano.
So, the volcano erupted, he got horribly burned but managed to survive. Lucky bastard. 57 other people weren't so lucky.
Anyway, it's 26 years later. The narrator is talking about the science that goes into predicting volcanic eruptions. There's a lot of information here I don't feel like going into.
The point I'm getting at is this guy that survived, he's actually pissed off that the scientists at the time didn't do a better job of predicting how the mountain would explode, and as a result didn't properly warn him.
Some one correct me if I'm wrong, but the friggin thing didn't just up and explode out of nowhere.

Listen pal, you were camping in the vicinity of an active volcano. V-O-L-C-A-N-O. Mountain full of fire and smoke. People knew it was going to go off. You were stupid enough to put yourself in harm's way. You survived. Fucking get over it.

That's all. Now the same show is covering the crash of TWA Flight 800. I'm going to watch that.

All we are are Hanes in the wind

KG and I are going through some pretty serious housecleaning. Making room for the new arrival in April.

Tonight I found a pile of old T shirts on the bed. Shirts KG was planning on giving to Goodwill.

I personally can't bear to part with most of my old T shirts. They are very much like photos or postcards. Each one is a snapshot of some point in my life. As a result, I have well over 100 T shirts. Most of which I never wear. I managed to tlak KG into keeping most of them. I felt the pain of their loss even if she didn't.

They had all come out of a box that had been in the spare room. In tribute to the Ts that almost found there way in to the thrift store system, here they are:

White Houston Shakespeare Festival 1990. Had a portrait of the Bard done in a collage.

Gray T with John Tenniel's "Illustration of Alice" on the front.

Black that read "Behind every great woman is a great women's college. Smith 1994". She doesn't know it, but I actually took this one to wear myself.

Gray Delekta Pharmacy shirt with a drawing on the back of a soda fountain reading "Home of the World's 'Most Delektable' Coffee Cabinet.

White Simpons family portrait circa 1989.

Black with red lips reading "Spoken Word 729 HOPE Providence."

White Trinity College.

White with RI Rhode Island logo

White with graphic of the globe being held in a hand, reads "The Whole Tribe."

White PBS Mystery! logo with Edward Gorey drawing.

White Simpsons 2 sided family pic with Sebadoh logo superimposed on it. The story I hear is that on one tour Sebadoh used second hand Ts for all their tour shirts.

White 2 sided Animaniacs logo.

Gray Oxford Crew with crossed oars. Purchased while KG attended Oxford.

White Smith College Alumnae.

Gray Mickey Mouse graphic.

The college shirts I told her she couldn't get rid of. No one else should be able to wear them, and it's the only proof that she did go.

Still in the box was a black Club Babyhead T, along with a black Touisset Point Country Club shirt. And a Kbco Polarized Lenses shirt.

I had planned, back before my digital camera broke, to take a picture of both KG and myself wearing every single one of our T shirts. There are quite a few I could part with if I had a picture. It's more the memory the shirt evokes than the shirt itself.

I'll put it on the to do list.

A New Hope

After Episode 3 came out, I made a decision that I would introduce my son to Star Wars with Episode 1, and work forward. Not because that's the way George wants them to be viewed, but because I wanted to see what TKJr's perspective on SW would be having watched them in that order.

Well, I kinda screwed that up tonight. He's a big Darth Vader fan. He calls him "Dark Side". Tonight he was wearing my Vader mask and running around the house doing the deep breathing sounds. He loves R2D2. Goes nuts everytime he sees him. He likes C3P0 as well. Whenever he hears the commercial for the MOS exhibit on the radio, he starts singing the theme song. And of course... everytime he sees a stormtrooper he calls him "Daddy." So, with this in mind, I decided to put on Episode IV tonight. I figured the first 5 minutes of the movie has Vader, stormtroopers, R2 and 3P0. You can't beat that.

From the second the opening crawl began, TKJr sat on the floor, transfixed. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. He stayed that way until the jawas got to the Lar's homestead. Then his interest began to wane.

I may sound like a dork, I know. But seriously, my eyes welled with tears watching my little boy mesmerized by what he was watching. He's only 2, but the magic worked. It was like reliving it myself.

Damn, being a father has got to be the best fucking thing in the world. Seriously.

Shit, it's been a week!

And yet I still have nothing relevant to say.

Nothing.

Closed because of storne

I walked down to the local Qwiki Mart at the height of the storm yesterday, hoping to buy a pack of smokes.

I wasn't surprised that the store was closed, what with a blizzard and shit. But closed because of storne?

I'm afraid of what a storne might be. I'll be keeping my eye out.

So, we ended up with, I'm guessing, about 16 inched here. Light, powdery snow. Not too bad. Got a sick toddler on top of that, so it's fun, fun, fun over here. Oh well, I guess every day can't be all shits and giggles.

meme!

Found this fun meme over on Love and Other Drugs

Here are the rules:

Grab the nearest book
Open the book to page 123
Find the fifth sentence
Post the text of the next 3 sentences (#5,6,7) on your blog, along with these instructions.
Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! Just grab what is closest. No cheating.

The closest book to my computer is actually "Guess How Much I Love You." But, children's books don't have 123 pages. So, a blind reach into the bookcase results in "The Master Magicians: Their Lives and Most Famous Tricks" by Walter Gibson. My sentences are:

He decided to make up for it with another grand tour, this time including Europe on his route. In December, 1904, Ching Ling Foo arrived in London with a company of Chinese jugglers, contortionists and acrobats. His troupe opened as the headline attraction at the Empire Theater.

Thanks, Mycalls. That was entertaining.

Happy, happy birthday to me...

Birthday Boy by The Residents

Bulging eyes abound about
The birthday boy today;
Screaming, "Creaming eyes!"
Screamed he,
His mother looked away.
"Creaming eyes explode upon
An apple pirate toad
And if an injun ate a plate
I'd laugh and live abode."
Nervousness itself was shifting
Guests against the door,
"Forgive us dear, but, uh, baking beer
It what we should be near."
"Bye," the bothered birthday boy said,
"Bye," the bothered birthday boy said,
"Bye or sell or bye,
Bye or sell or bye."
"Happy, happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me he-he-hee,
Happy birthday to me...

Hatred is human and hatred is here

In response to Mycalls comment... it appears that the admins at myspace have taken it upon themselves to remove Jacob's profile and replace it with the following diatribe:

"While the mainstream media is busy covering this tragic yet insignificant story, important things are going on in the world. The sad irony of the supposed “information age” is a noticeable absence of actual news from America’s most popular media outlets. House fires, car accidents, kidnappings—while all certainly important to the few people they immediately concern—are completely irrelevant to the human race as a whole, yet these such stories dominate the headlines. This is said to exclude stories of celebrity lifestyles, "human interest", and sports, all of which have positively no value to civic life. This standard of journalistic irresponsibility works in direct contrast with democracy, as citizens of America—a nation heralded as a supposed bastion of democracy—remain the most ill-informed citizens in the developed world. For example, a majority of Americans continue to believe that Saddam Hussein was directly responsible for the 11 September attacks, but know for certain that Lindsey Lohan has struggle with an eating disorder.

As such stories grip American audiences, the current administration in the White House is setting a course for American the democracy that could very well see it to its finish, much in the vein of Roman democracy’s defeat beneath the boot of militaristic dictatorship. At this crossroad of history, we find America much more concerned with stories which will never amount to as much as a sentence in any history book. Fascism, the face of which has begun to emerge in America, thrives on ignorance of this sort, relying upon a population sedated by inconsequential matters and willingly ignorant of issues central to the survival of their community and species.

Shame on the American media, and shame on the American public. You have shunned the gift of knowledge afforded to us by thousands of years of human progress, and have chosen rather the bliss of ignorance. The price could prove to be the freedom of the greatest democracy of all time."

I have no hard facts to confirm my theory, but judging by FOX's bombastic coverage and the fact that they were apparently using his myspace profile for most of their information, I'm guessing they prompted the removal.

Oh well. It was all sound and fury anyway. As for what has replaced it... I have no retort. I don't disagree.

He didn't like Mondays

So, Jacob Robida dies from multiple gunshot wounds to the head. But not before 2 other people lost their life.

I'm sure the media, the pundits and wags and armchair philosophers the world over will be debating what caused this 18 year old to suddenly burn up in an orgy of violence.

There must be a reason. There has to be a reason. Or, as Bob Geldof once said:

"What reason do you need to die?"

Take a look at the boy's myspace profile and judge for yourself.

And another thing...

We're back to the occasional odd google search.

Put in "fuck jcaho" and this site comes up at #6. Probably be #1 now.

Strange this to google, so thinks me.

TK8103: Party Animal

Yup, that's me getting down with the toddler set. The birthday boy is on the right, and that's TKJr and KG on the floor to my left.
Looks like I had something funky going on with my shoulder bells.

Note to self...

Never, ever borrow someone else's video-game controller. Ever.