   |
|
|
COMPLAINTS, MUSINGS, AND OF COURSE WISDOM FROM DOUCHEBALL HIMSELF! NO'MSAYIN'? ~George Carlin
Archives
April 2001 May 2001 June 2001 July 2001 August 2001 September 2001 October 2001 November 2001 December 2001 January 2002 February 2002 March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 December 2003 January 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 January 2005 February 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 December 2005 
|
Friday, January 31, 2003
Pictures
If you haven't been to Scott's weblog in a while, I've posted some new pictures there. Check 'em out. There's some really good ones. Again, I can't say thank you enough to Toni for scanning the pics. Love you Toni.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Takin' the week off...
...since I can't seem to kick this thing quick. It did please me to hear my doctor say that it had been 3 years since I'd last had my dreaded bronchitis. I used to get this on a yearly basis. Ever since my folks quit smoking, the frequency of it has decreased dramatically. So, I'm asking everybody to blog more this week to keep me entertained. And I'm talking quality blogging. No copying and pasting articles or any crap like that. Maybe some good confrontational blogging, like we were all enjoying a couple weeks ago. Maybe this time Toni and Shane could go at it? Anyhow, I'm disappointed that I'll be missing British punk legends GBH in concert this week. In my condition, there's no way I can go to a club full of cigarette smoke. Jeremy will be disappointed. We saw them about 12 years ago at the beloved Speedway Cafe. It was a chaotic, insane show. These skinheads brought a huge American flag and carried it while they were circling the pit, whacking people with it time to time. Then they got confrontational with the band and were flipping them off and threatening them. Within a minute or two, their heavily tattooed manager comes out and lets the skins know that he is strapped and will not hesitate to use his piece if any harm comes to his band. It was awesome. Drama, mild violence, a good circle pit, and I'm sure me and the boys were all shitfaced. Those were the days.
Sunday, January 26, 2003
I feel like sharing...
...a little story about Scottie. I don't think that anyone knows this story except for Jeff and Lorene. It came to me out of the blue the other day and I wanted to get it posted/told before I forgot about it. Allow me to preface this story by stating that Lorene loves black people, and that is what makes this story even more amusing: One day, Scott was giving Lorene a bad time about something or other. Somehow, by the end of the conversation, Scott announced to Lorene (with his huge toothy grin) that he was now going to start introducing her to all of his friends as follows: "This is my friend Lorene. She hates black people." When he said this, poor Lorene was absolutely mortified. She (justifiably) believed that he was actually going to do it. He reminded her of his plan regularly for about a month, and every time he said it, Lorene would squeal "DON'T YOU DARE!" or some other exclamation that equally reflected how appalled she was at this prospect. This was one of his best japes ever, in my opinion. I know that I bore a large brunt of his teasing, but sometimes he would turn his attention to Lorene, who wasn't as equipped to deal with it as I was. Lorene reminded me today how when he would call her, he would frequently ask "how's my favorite negress?" This always flustered her, as she is not amused by talk like that, even in jest. But she had to cope with it from Scott. I consoled her by telling her how he would regularly refer to me as a "dusky negress", so I think that she got the better end of the deal. And other people got their turns. I wish I had a tape recording of one evening that Scott, Jeff, Jeremy, and I were hanging out playing video games. For whatever reason, Scott's attention was turned to Jeremy that evening. For about 3 straight hours, he tortured Jeremy with one brutal joke after another about how small Jeremy's penis is. I seriously have not seen someone so mercilessly tease someone since I was in junior high. It was hilarious for the first hour. The second and third hours were absolutely painful, with Jeff and I shaking our heads in disbelief. I think we felt bad for Jer, but at the same time we were glad we weren't Scott's target. It didn't matter that everyone had quit laughing but Scott. He remained relentless for the entire evening. And although Jeremy was obviously starting to bristle, he put up with it for the whole night. Jeremy, you're a better man than I. I have more funny Scott stories that I will share at other times. These are just 2 of my favorites.
Feel free to mock me...
although that wasn't what I was thinking while the living nightmare that was the Super Bowl was on. Thoughts ran through my head of temporarily banning Janet from commenting on the weblog. I believed I would be depressed beyond belief. Fortunately, Lorene was with me to make it all better. Now, I am ready to move on. Nonetheless, I'm trying to decide whether it would've been better if the Raidas had just lost early on, so that it wouldn't have been such a letdown. I think my conclusion is that I'm glad they went, even though they were completely shut down until it was too late. Better to be 2nd best than not even in the running, I guess.
Saturday, January 25, 2003
I nearly fell out of my chair...
when I read the following headline on the Onion this morning: "Mormon Family Trying To Ignore Dog's Huge Boner". I laughed so hard and long that I aggravated my cough terribly this morning. I'm having a rough time today, as it's stayed pretty steady on the phones. If this cold isn't pretty much over with on Monday, I plan on calling in sick all week. Every time I spend a bunch of time talking, I just get worse and worse.
Friday, January 24, 2003
Goddamnit!
I fucking hate not having much of a voice! How the hell am I supposed to chant "Raidas! Raidas! Raidas!" on Sunday if I have no voice to speak of? It's pissing me off.
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Just As I Suspected...
...my cold has been agitated by going in to work. Not because the work is strenuous, but because I have to talk to people all day. My throat hurts like hell, but I didn't want to call in sick. I have no desire to use up my PTO at the beginning of the year. Thankfully, my weekend is now here. I will be doing very little apart from sleeping over the next couple of days. Hopefully, I can be fully recovered for Jeremy's birthday deal (can you believe that all he asked for this year was buttplugs and anal beads?). Don't forget to listen to Jeff on X-96 tomorrow morning. I'm actually gonna try to be supportive and listen at home. He starts a bit after 9:00am.
Monday, January 20, 2003
RAIDER NATION IS REJOICING!!!
Of course, I'm mainly talking about my Raider faithful here in SLC: Toni and Jeff. And Lorene has agreed that if I shut the fuck up, she'll "root for the fuckin' Raiders". Actually, I think she likes the fact that there's a bunch of old guys on the Raidas... They are going to the muthafuckin' Superbowl! It's good to be a Raider fan right now! Granted, I'm seriously sweatin' Tampa. But I still think our boys are gonna pull it off. RAIDAS! RAIDAS! RAIDAS!
Saturday, January 18, 2003
My turn
I've finally caught the cold that I've been dodging for so long. I am fighting it tooth and nail with Zicam, Vitamin C, and Coldeeze. I have to do this because usually when I catch a cold, it turns in to bronchitis and sometimes pneumonia. I would probably have no issues working through my colds, except for the fact that my job entails talking to people. This becomes difficult when you have a painfully sore throat. But it will have to get pretty nasty before I take any time off because of it. Well, it's do or die again for my Raidas tomorrow. Titans are good, but I think we'll take 'em. I'll be sweating this one nervously at my desk tomorrow between calls. Just want to say to the "anonymous commenter", not everyone has been fooled by you. What you have done is absolutely shameful, and I hope that you can find some decency somewhere inside of you to come forth, admit what you did, and let Connie off the hook. You do realize that she is taking the heat for what you said? Do you feel good about that?
Thursday, January 16, 2003
Thursday morning...
...and I feel kinda shitty physically. I'm hobbling around the house like I'm sixty, trying to shake out the aches and pains. I think I need to get out for a little while. Go for a drive or walk or something. My apologies for my last entry. I'm going to try to get back to writing within familiar territory...in other words, getting down to some good old fashioned complaining about everything under the sun. I don't really have that venom in me today, but I bet if I go to the mall and be around some people or something, my bitching cup will runneth over again soon. Oh, did I tell everybody that I have new speakers in my Vue? Now, I can shake the earth, just like the Mexicans down at Liberty Park. Well, maybe not quite as loud as them. Jeff and I used to stay over at Tom Kade's house on a regular basis when he lived across the street from Liberty Park. Every fucking morning, we'd wake up and the floor would be shaking, thanks to these dickweeds circling the park slowly in their old fucking cars that would scrape the asphalt with enough people in them. Jeff, Scott, and I used to jump in my car, throw in a Sir-Mix-a-Lot tape, and slump down real low in the car and drive by the basketball court they would all congregate at, bobbing our heads rapper style in mockery of them. We found this entertaining until the gigantic black dudes playing ball took issue with it and started walking toward us in a menacing fashion, one Sunday morning. Young and stupid, we were. Those were the days. Oh, and by the way, I noticed someone leaving an anonymous post on JJ's weblog. Let me just tell you how pussy I think that posting anonymously is. Stand behind your fucking convictions or keep your fucking mouth shut!
Monday, January 13, 2003
My 2 Cents...
I can see that with all of this talk that is going on between Connie and JJ about parenting, that the perspective of someone who has little to no experience with children (and generally dislikes them), is desperately needed. I don't write this because I wish to argue with anyone (and unless you really provoke me, I won't). However, I don't believe that either of you can look at this issue any other way than subjectively. So here goes: Connie: On one hand, I can certainly understand how parents who have paid their dues with a child for many years would take offense to someone who has assumed a parental role for less than a year deciding that they are now a parent. I should think that accepting the term "Mom" would be a pretty serious responsibility that you should have to pay dues for. I don't know what the dues-paying period is, but I doubt that it's under a year. JJ and Brad: On the other hand, there are certainly more egregious activities that someone could engage in than feeling maternal about a child that is clearly craving, welcoming, and may in fact need another parent (I've endured the single parent thing for a few years in my childhood; my mother was great, but it still sucked ass). If the gun has been jumped and Connie has fallen in to the "the child has called me Mom, therefore I am" trap, she has probably accepted that titling prematurely. But should it really be that big of a deal to anyone outside of that circle (the circle defined as Connie, Lindi, and Sara)? I don't see it as a slap in any parent's face nor does it diminish what outstanding parents other people have been. It may be irritating and annoying, but is it something to get worked up about? Hardly. For the record, I wouldn't define Connie as a mom at this time either, but am I bothered that she does? Not particularly.
Sunday, January 12, 2003
Raidas! Raidas! Raidas!
You'll have to wait at least one more week to mock me, Janet. As the Raidas are heading to the AFC Championship!!! Woo-hoo!!!
Thursday, January 09, 2003
Small redesign is basically complete...
Turns out, I think I didn't really have to do it. It's a long story that I don't really care to type up, but I think I know why my prior template wouldn't accept an extremely long entry that I wrote this morning. Let's just say it didn't have anything to do with how long the entry was, just one of the words. However, I think I'll keep this template even though I've got the other one saved in a word document. I've seen how the old one shows up on other people's computers, and the interior (and sometimes exterior) scrollbar is often blacked out, and it was generally more difficult to navigate around than this one is. I hope everyone likes the way it is now. If not, gee sorry. I know I've got a few things to fix and add, but I'm about ready for bed. Anyhow, below is the entry I had ready to go this morning, but had so much trouble with: Long time, no write... So, how has everyone's new year started out? Mine has been pretty good. The only bad thing about it has been that Lorene got sick when I had some vacation time, so I didn't get to spend near as much time annoying her as I wanted to. I did get to go to Wendover on 01/05 with my folks. That was relatively fun and I only lost .02g's. It also gave me an opportunity to get in touch with some (fairly petty) things that drive me fucking nuts. First of all, I got to experience my Dad's music all the way down and back. Now, this is nothing all that new to me, but the last few times I've gone out with them, I brought a tape of my own so that I could at least hear one bearable bit of music on the drive. This time, I decided not to bring one out because there's nothing that pleases my dear father more than choosing all the fucking music all the fucking time. Right off the bat, that's something that makes me nuts. People who think that somehow they are the master of the stereo and the music at all gatherings of any sort. Somehow, these people believe that they have the magical power to choose the perfect music for all occasions and they will enter someone's house or car and commandeer the stereo for the entire time. Don't get me wrong. I like to control the music in my own house and vehicle as much as anyone else. But I don't think that I am entitled to stereo dominance at every gathering I attend or drive I engage on with mixed company. When Lorene and I travel, we alternate every other CD for the drive. That way neither of us gets driven insane for the entirety of the trip. Oh, back to my Dad. So, we're driving to and back from Grab-your-ankles-whilst-we-take-all-your-money-ville, and I get to hear lovely songs that I've endured in the backseat for the majority of my childhood. Classics such as "Mr. Diddy-wah-diddy", "Roll In My Sweet Baby's Arms", "Hey Good-Lookin" and "Say What", which includes the brilliant chorus of "say girl, say hey, say what". I will say that he had "Take This Job And Shove It", "So Alive", and some instrumental Metallica song on his mix tape, which I did actually enjoy. But for the most part, I was just trying to grin and bear it, as my poor Dad has been working helacious hours lately, and I didn't want to deny him any small joys at this time. So that was annoyance #1. Annoyance # 2 was when my mother said to me at dinner "there's something going around" (as in an illness). I swear to fuck that I have heard someone say that at least once a week for most of my lifetime. Never once in my entire existence has there NOT been something going around. There is no need to even say that phrase any more, because it is always true and is simply a given. Annoyance #3 is these fucking people who stare at you while you're playing a slot machine. You know how you can see them in the reflection of the metal on the machine? And it's usually some old person. In this case, I had some old lady standing behind me watching me play my beloved Regis Philbin machine for about 15 minutes. She then sat down right next to me and told her husband "let's watch this guy". So, I have a fucking audience for about a half hour. Then, she decides she wants to play the machine next to me. She then asks me how to play the machine. So, I give her a little lesson. She puts in about 2.00, doesn't win anything, says what a terrible machine it is and leaves. She doesn't even play the nine nickels per pull that it takes to get anywhere with the machine. She puts in 3 or 4 each time. First of all, I don't know where people get it in their head that putting 2.00 in to a slot machine should make the fucker pay them out a huge hit, but what-the-fuck-ever. Second of all, I don't go to Wendover to socialize with every douchebag who sits down next to me at a machine. I really only want to socialize with the people I came down with and a cup full of nickels (and if I'm staying down there, I may want to socialize with a pina colada or a screwdriver). Third, I hate being stared at and watched. This happens when you're as antisocial as I am. My ideal person to sit next to me down there is someone who sits down, looks pissed off, doesn't smoke, doesn't talk, doesn't stink, and only looks over at me to glare if I hit big. Now aren't you glad you read this delightful entry? Music: "Creature From The Black Leather Lagoon" by the Cramps
Thursday, January 02, 2003
|
