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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
scoundrel01's LiveJournal:
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| Sunday, August 9th, 2009 | | 6:21 pm |
Bye, daddy-o
(check, check? Apparently I sign up for LJ and only post when traumatic shit happens) My dad died. I fucking hate saying that out loud. My dad died. But he did. And this is probably the only e-spacey kind of place I wanna say anything detailed about it that isn't maudlyn, regurgitated. I really want it detailed because, and I said I'd say it if asked to do a eulogy by mom- we had a really good last day. (Sorry if you've heard that already.) I needed/want a forum to let this out so if friends aren't too comfortable reading, I don't cut tag and move on. So I've been unemployed after my last assignment and have been waiting for my new assignment to come up soon. Mom and Dad offered to pay me for manual labor (as they are wont to do) in the interim, esp. since they are still rehabbing the grounds around the cabin up North. So for the record, I've seen my folks quite a bit in July. The last three weeks have been marked with planting huge bushes at their Plymouth townhome and de-rooting a tree, heading up the hour plus trek to the cabin. It was what it was. They usually or (he usually) talked about how sweaty I was. So I had talked to my pop a few times (A record in as many days, but since my old fiancee' broke up with me I vowed to treasure my protracted dad-talks and this shouldn't be different. He was, of course, the first I talked to at the time and the first to tell me post-break up to "ride the waves") and he agreed to meet on Thursday (we had "cabin'ed" 6 days prior, and he had to meet with the old retired Sheriff's deputies for a breakfast) So fine. 9am. He was late, per normal, and it gave time for me and the Bean to talk. I bitched and lamented about "Postle-Punctuality" and that if he had anything to do he needed to go before dad showed up or he'd be in for a lengthy conversation which'd make him late for work. (As it turns out, David ran out to hug and shake dad's hand and say "hi" just because I was silly about it) We drove up Central and our talk was about how everything has changed. Shops. Industrial centers. We bitched about stop lights. We talked about what was the same...what was different. We got up to the cabin and got to work. He showed me how to set up the temporary trailer and where to pee behind the shed. Then I started in on the work. I made him sit and watch while he threw out advice (dad grenades. I was to do the manual labor and he was to chill) I cut down a 40 foot dead fir tree and got it apart. I'm old. I had to sit periodically next to him. We went in and continued taking apart the cabinets to put in the garage. He needed to sit for a bit. I said to relax and he sat before holding up a little bullet shaped thing and said that it was for his heart. (To understand, dad has had nitro ready since 1989. It was sort of a joke, but with that, a wife who was an RN, and two kids mildly EMT ready and CPR savvy it was more of a joke. And we knew mom has made him do quarterly visits) Still, I told him to chill. Then I told him cabin stories from when I was a kid that I won't bore you with here. He loved them. I mean, it made me NOT feel like I was talking to a wall. He understood. Filled in blanks. And took his glasses off when he laughed so hard that I remembered great-grandma's brand of cigarette. It got late. Really late. And I wanted to get home to pack for an out of town camping trip ASAP. He wanted to gut some stuff and get it to the dump but we decided to chill. We ate cheese. We drank a beer and talked about the future of the cabin. And we strapped the dumb old squirrel eaten mattresses inside to the roof. The ride home was really nice. We took the "long" way which I didn't argue about. He bitched Mo and I couldn't be here for the local small town "Pie Contest!" and we wanted to pull over for a Farmers Market that had bushells (Gods, who does bushells?) of red potatoes for only $3.00!!! On the way, we opened up about a lot of things. A lot. I admitted things I had kept quiet and verified things he only knew briefly. Of covert cabin trips with (Shh) booze when I was 16, 17, 18, 19...of Zima, gin, ruined watermelons, fake grenades to scare friends, skinny dipping, vomiting. I was in such pain from the manual labor but I was crying laughing telling my dad this. In turn, he wasn't pissed! He started laughing and telling me about what HE heard about it. Then it devolved into stories on the top-secret base he stationed in the early 60's. And early cabin stories. And mom stories. We went through it all. Old girlfriends. Mo. My friends and neighbors. By the time we were up Central he was bitching that the Height's theatre had changed out "Harry Potter" and that he wanted to take Mom to that. He wanted to take me to the dump for the mattresses, but I rebuffed. I said it was 5 and I was fall over tired. I told him to pull the "old man" card and get one of the kids that work there to help. We pulled up to my house. I got out, he asked where Mo was. He asked what David was doing. We chatted, I invited him in for water, he just wanted me to call Mom and tell her he was on his way. We hugged. For a big guy. For a really big guy. I remember being glad I was on the curb. It felt good to be bigger than my dad. I was able to say "I love you" and he skidaddled. And that was that. | | Monday, July 14th, 2008 | | 6:36 pm |
Much to digest...
Sorry for the delinquency in posting. I shall not cut in lieu of trying to keep it short as hell: Fourth weekend was extended as I had Thursday the 3rd off: Weds: Hot tubbing goodness at Redwrights. Heaven Thursday: Day off, jogging, dinner with mah beeb the birthday Shenanigans at the Hortons Frids: More work outs, followed by cooking, followed by a glorious day of houseboating. Mozzle's buddy in "Mom's" owns a houseboat year round so we grilled then tootled down the Mississippi before weighing anchor between the high bridge and Wabasha. I foolishly went from beer, to G and T's (courtesy of another boat-guest's hospitality) to champers, to coconut rum/OJ's over the course of 9 hours. Needless to say I slept on the way home. Robyn was in town from TX and my face hurt from laughing at her stories (Anyone who starts a tale "Did I tell you about the time I punched Whitney Houston in the crotch?" is one to know) That weekend we took in Taylor's Falls for hiking (and subsequent bug-bitery) waterparking (at the lamest most concussion inducing water park) and dinner at Tangled Up in Blue. Read her review on the Minneapolis Finder Forum. Needless to say, it was amazing and dropping that she writes reviews for restaurants garnered us an audience (and free home-made ice cream)from the owner/executive-chef. Last weekend was just as wonderful. Caturday was birthday goodness at the WW ranch, followed by the close of "Yo Momma's the word" followed by our crashing the Starting Gate fundraiser. Sunday came too early, and I headed out to PL for my big brother's b'day and toddler time, followed by hitting Uptown for Barbette's Bastille Day Block Party. Pre-bough Vodka-Red Bulls were a bad idea jeans, and I went home zonked. Still, a Sunday with 5 hot ladies isn't all bad. Made me feel all celeb-like. Yee-ha. | | Saturday, April 19th, 2008 | | 11:31 am |
Did you know...
That if you search "Porn" on Netflix, the name "Brian Dennehey" comes up? Hmmmmm... | | Monday, February 4th, 2008 | | 11:56 am |
Let me 'splain...
No, there is too much. Let me sum up: happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com IN other news, I am now on Facebook. Which makes my registered selfish websites that I belong to now total 1,100. May Gott have mercy on my soul...what remains of it. | | Wednesday, October 24th, 2007 | | 6:36 am |
Hmmmm...
Review - Sun Tzu’s The Art of War - No Refunds Theatre Co. - 5 Stars Oct 22, 2007 “If you are not in danger, do not fight.” If you’re missing that Fringey feeling of great guerilla theater, or, heck, if you just need a really good laugh (with some formidable brains and talent behind it), have I got a show for you. That show would be No Refunds Theatre Co.’s staging of the classic military strategy text, Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War.” No. Really. Actually if you want a laugh, it begins with the program - an almost completely fabricated biography of the original author, cheeky bios under the heading “Who The Hell Are These People?,” and a director’s note that is largely just a picture of one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles above the words - “Sun Tzu is Chinese. Ninjas are Japanese. I know. I don’t care.” This disclaimer is necessary because while the text is almost entirely drawn from Sun Tzu’s book (minus the introduction and conclusion of the play), it is largely performed with the help of No Refund’s signature characters, the ninjas. Charlie Bethel, well-known for his whipsmart one-man adaptations and performances of classics such as Beowolf and Tom Thumb, adapted the book with director Matt Dawson, and the collision of the two styles works wonderfully well. Playing what would be the traditional Charlie Bethel role of host/narrator/creator of characters in this production is the urbane John Middleton, much of the time wielding humor as dry as a perfect martini. In opposition to Middleton’s self-possession is a trio of whacked-out ninjas clad from head to toe in black, only their extremely expressive eyes showing. The ninjas are Kiseung Rhee (so great in the recent Nightpath reimagining of “Measure for Measure”) as most of the royal characters, Mike Postle as Sun Tzu and most of the military commander characters, and Christopher Howie as the tall and hapless military grunt, the target of many of the other two characters’ assaults and even the narrator’s disdain. This combination of Bethel’s style and that of No Refunds could have stumbled by being too goofy (not respecting the source) or dull (respecting the source so much that one forgets to stage it for a live audience). The fact that it doesn’t wander into either of those trouble spots is something of a minor miracle, and they’re to be commended for pulling it off. The text is crisp, simple military theory, interspersed with Sun Tzu’s own illustrative examples of what to do, and not to do, in action. Middelton keeps things moving along verbally, while the ninjas alternate between a sort of martial arts version of interpretive dance and role-playing as the narrator dictates. Middleton does get in on a bit of the oddball fun when providing the voices for the story of Sun Tzu demonstrating his theories for an emperor using the ruler’s army of concubines as stand-ins for soldiers. Sun Tzu’s voice is a John Wayne impersonation that I like to think must be a nod to the Duke’s one big blunder into costume drama when he took on the role of Ghengis Khan in “The Conqueror” (The movie is painfully awful, and truly beautiful. You’ll laugh til your eyes bleed. Rent it. The fact that they filmed it downwind of nuclear test sites before anyone thought radiation was a bad thing and most of the cast ended up dying years later of cancer just makes it weirder. Only in America.) This is unfortunately the perfect time for a show like Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. I say unfortunately because our country is currently waging a handful of wars of its own devising and one wishes our political leaders had read Sun Tzu before embarking on their adventures. Sun Tzu understood the practicalities of war - terrain, politics, leadership, morale, provisioning, and above all, diplomacy. One of the more ruefully funny parts of the book concerns Tzu’s assertion that the greatest victories in war are the ones that are never fought, the ones in which no one raises a weapon, and no soldier loses their life. These victories are won by negotiation and are almost never the subject of song and story. But only the smartest and best strategists ever win them. The audience brings its own subtext into the theater with them. About halfway through the performance, I didn’t think I could laugh at the show anymore. All I could think was “Oh man, it’s so blatantly clear. Common sense, completely ignored. We’ve done everything wrong. We are so screwed.” Yet laugh I did. Because Bethel, Dawson, Middleton and the Ninjas know if we don’t find some way to laugh at it all, we’ll go mad. On top of the misfortunes of the enemy soldiers portrayed by Howie who keep getting the stuffing beaten out of them... Beyond the giggle-inducing demonstrations with action figures and crude maps scrawled on muslin... The big laughs come at the expense of the leader with no military experience who thinks he knows better than his generals. Rhee, as the incompetent emperor making one poor decision after another in Middleton’s list of missteps, also makes a series of slow double-takes to the audience which become increasingly amusing. The leader is never mentioned by name. There is no need. Those who are inclined to get the joke, will get the joke. Those who aren’t can just enjoy the inept antics of the witless emperor trying to conduct a battle with no allies, no knowledge of the enemy, or strategy (yes, a “strategery” sign makes a fleeting comic appearance). That’s one of the charms of this clever presentation - it’s full of comedy and common sense anyone can appreciate, but each audience member can make up their own mind what it all means, and how it might apply to our current world order. If you’re not in the mood for political satire, it works as slapstick. If you’re not in the mood for mindless comedy, there’s a high IQ just below the surface winking at you if you want to be in on the bigger, and slightly darker, joke. Nice to finally see a full production from the No Refunds crew. I seem to be one of the only people who missed the various incarnations of “Kung Fu Hamlet” - which developed quite the cult following. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have been scared off by the zombies and 80s TV sitcoms in their subsequent Fringe shows. Their hilarious contribution to the Five Fifths of the Wizard of Oz event was second only to the Scrimshaw Brothers for entertainment value. And Sun Tzu’s The Art of War has reassured me that whatever they do, I’m in good hands. Next up is an onstage version of a graphic novel, “What’s Done In The Dark,” a mix of action and illustration. For those who worry that might be a bit grim or edgy, they assure in the program ad, “just because it’s serious, doesn’t mean it’s legitimate theater. We’re still No Refunds, after all.” I beg to differ. They may not take themselves too seriously, and that’s to their credit, but they’re definitely legitimate theater. And very highly recommended. Final performances are this Friday and Sunday, October 26 and 28 at the Bryant Lake Bowl (810 West Lake Street in Minneapolis) All performances start at 7pm (Doors open at 6) Tickets - $15 ($12 for students with ID, Fringers with buttons, black belts, members of clergy, certified ninjas, and veterans, active or retired) For reservations call - 612-825-8949 or visit www.bryantlakebowl.com (online ticket purchase available) And as the No Refunds site - www.norefundstheatre.com - says, “For more information on Sun Tzu or the Art of War, visit your local library, or ask your mom.” It's both comforting and a little disconcerting that this military advice has been around, proven right, and regularly ignored, since around 500 B.C. Worth revisiting in this comic context. After all, those who forget the past... | | Wednesday, October 10th, 2007 | | 5:00 pm |
An ode to BJ's and Underpants
Not thaaaat kinda BJ, ya preev's. So "Sun Tzu's: The Art of War" opened last Freitag. Now, if I've been maintaining radio silence it's part and parcle to the fact that we've been nose to the grindstoning nearly nightly before we opened. (There's a lot of business, dig? And A lot of business means a lot to remember, even if I'm not talking.) We had a moderate house who, while not as keenly snickerable as we'd hoped were still receptive to the concept. (It's a lesson book, see? About war. Written in 500 BCE. That has some ironic observations/lesson's about what to do, and not to do when going into battle that the current administration could stand to learn from. IJS) If, by means of an advertisement, you have a free Friday or Sunday night in October? Head on down to the BLB for some learnin', some awesome food, and only an hour of your night. That leaves time for bowling, yo. Afterwards, I hung w/Dorajar, Mags, D, and Scora and knocked back my free-ish Surly while I watched them finish the game. We dropped off Mags, and Dorajar got this brilliant idea to hit up BJ's Cocktails, Game Room, and Exotic Dancers. Yeah. Nope. Okay, I was gonna stop there but we engaged in some interesting discourse about quality of dancer, psychology, body image, the fact that some of the "dancer's" really weren't plying their craft all that well, opting to just lie on the stage and writhe around like someone getting tangled in the sheets after a bad nightmare, and pausing occasionally to expose themselves to any one of the Hell's Angel's who went to the corner of the stage with a single. Eep. Saturday was a project day. After fashioning some brefkist burrito's, I took to edging the lawn and prepping for a mow when kaput...the Toro up and died. I'm gonna try and replace the plug, but if anyone has a Craigslist lead for a lawnmower (Preferrably one that, you know, "goes"? And doesn't result in an arm work out...) let me know. After a nap, and a brief discussion as to dinner we hit the Lund's deli (Where you should all. Go. No Sir Ian sightings though...lucky Ike) Then home. I proceeded to teach Dorajar how to "Kiss Like A Boy" (Seriously. Talking honesty I almost gave away all my patented "all new cheap moves!") Then we lounged around in our undies before watching "Heroes" and calling it a night. Sunday was a summons to the Royal Families Townhome in Ply-Mouth where I had lunch and helped turn the back forty for some plantin'. Sufficed to say, Monday sucked. Suck it, soreness. That night? I was Dorajar's date to say "Good Bye" to X. By Mama. Be good to NYC. Back at it Frasser's. If you read this, come see my show. I HAVE SPOKEN!!! | | Wednesday, September 5th, 2007 | | 7:05 pm |
Karma?
If you post something about how you think you spread good karma, does it cancel out? Our first pitstop on the way down to KS was this little rest area in the middle of nowwhere. It's interesting to note, that our first rest stop (Where the sign actually said "Rest Area") was just that. No terlets. No vending machines. Just a place to pull over and park. We chuckled, and meandered up another 40 miles before we found one with plumbing. We're giggly and goofy and sweaty, looking forward to the opportunity to stretch our legs. As I get into the building and Dorajar bustles over to the ladies room I make eye contact with a woman helping a man struggling with a walker. He's middle aged, African American, has an eye patch, and is having a very difficult time getting into the restroom. I make a quick decision to get out of there way and use the second door when she grabs my arm and says to me "Excuse me? This is my husband. Would you please help him in there? Just...if anything happens come and get me?" No worries. She tells her husband I'll be helping and he faintly registers this. We slowly make our way in and he shuffles over to the handicapped stall (I had to laugh a little. I was reminded of a conversation where someone told me that if it's available? He always hits the handicapped stall to do his business since it's roomier. And here's someone who is, you know, handicapped? And actually needing to use it. What. A. Concept.) I do my business, wash my hands, and commence waiting. The stall door is pulled open and he says "No flush!!!" loudly. I assure him that it's auto flush and it will happen on its own and he shakes his head and slides his walker out saying "not me!!!". Oh. Someone ELSE'S potty. So I comply. He thanks me and goes back in. So the rotation of individuals comes and goes, and I sit there planted against the wall. I see the wife out side and she raises her eyebrows and mouths "OK?" I nod, and keep waiting. Thought's start to invade my mind at a rapid pace. "I can't tell Dorajar and DeeZ where I am right now...it'd be like abandoning my post." "I really hope that nothing DOES happen...what do I do then? Get her and take off? And if there are dudes in here, do I announce her prescence?". "The guys, some with kids, are giving me weird looks...aren't they. Well Jesus, Baby P...you're probably giving off this very 'Craig-Like' cruising vibe. Tres Pervy...Jackass". And lastly, PLEASE bear in mind I'm not proud of my own selfish rationalizations: "Um...I'm on a schedule and have to get back on the road...how long is this going to take?" I hear commotion coming from the stall, and help to open the door while he finds his way to the sink. And boy, he was really going for the "cleanliness is next to Godliness" vibe with how long he washed his hands. (Wash, pump soap, wash, pump soap, wash...X's Five) There isn't any hand towels and so he navigates over to the hand dryer (Another brief moment of panic, as I notice that his hands are wet, he's having great difficult on his wheeled walker, and he's using his elbows to steer in order to keep the handles from getting wet. Since this is the home stretch, I thought, this is where something will happen) But nope. He dries. Slowly makes his way over toward the door as I let him pass and he gives me a quiet "thank you" before we mosey over to his wife. I'm about to turn heel and bustle off to the car when I get a brief touch on my shoulder from the woman who, with all the sincerity I've ever seen in the world says "Thank you. Thank you so much for your kindness". I mumble something along the lines of "It was absolutely not a problem" before skedaddling. All of this really only took the span of maaaaybe 10 minutes. It took me a sec to articulate to the other passenger's what just happened as I saw them both make their way in the rearview mirror to their vehicle. It made me think of the well of love, patience, understanding, frustration that has to accompany them. And I felt a mix of shame, pride, love, and a very real and profound sense of gratitude. And then it was back to the Chamber of Secrets. And maybe the karma was what kept Dorajar's car running smoothly the entire weekend. | | 7:04 pm |
Home...
Safe, thankyouverymuch... Whatta weekend. Oof. Oof to the iz-dah. Road trips for buddies are fun and relaxing, but dang do they tend to wear you out. (And make going back to the grind a monumental struggle) Of note: Frids we go to pick up DeeZ and grab some breakfast early early ( http://victors1959cafe.com/) before heading to get the rental car to make haste to points Southerly. After settling up, Dorajar tells the nice cashier our destination and we get the "dissapointed face" from her and she says "Oh...we only have a 5 state radius. We'll have to charge you $.30 a mile after 200 miles." (Sweet, I think? We're not travelling more than 3 states away! But no...it's the three SURROUNDING states. F#ck-bacon.) So we said "Eff it" and took the Mo-Mobile. 7 hours, 2 pit stops*, 1 tank refill, and hungry bellies later we arrive in Overland Park to stay with buddies. We had dinner, then hit the LQ and stayed up to the wee hours (Read: 11pm. We're old) before passing out. Sats we grabbed brefkist before shuffling off to Lawrence. We ended up hotel-ing it cheaply due to some mis-communique with previous arrangements. After cleaning up we hit a Mexican restaurant (We weren't sure if there was going to be food at the reception until we were seated, ordered food and margies, and I looked at the RSVP. Whoops) Then off to the outdoor wedding which was loverly. (Save the fact the reverend biker ladies mike wasn't on. And Dorajar getting stung by a bee. Twice. Nature, it seems, had it out for us) The reception was at this idyllic little farm/campsite in this big, garage? Like, mechanics garage. In the main hall there was the typical decorations you'd expect (Vintage auto signs, antique hub caps) In the booze room off to the side, there was just...antiques. (Lunch boxes, pennants, sports equipment, and the like) It was charming as hell. Dinner was a catered affair chock full of a lot of...meat. (Who were 45 minutes late, which created some mild tension early on) We danced, tried leaving at 9:30, were shamed into staying later, plied with energy drinks, then gibbered on and smoke cigars for another 2 hours before heading home. Sunds was continental brefkist and a tour of scenic downtown Lawrence. I was given campus and town stories, we snacked on Thai. Shopped the shops (I demolished the first two HP novels, and hadda hit a used bookstore for more dreck. This seems to be a road trip tradition I'm setting up) And finally met up w/buddies at the Free State Brewery ( http://www.freestatebrewing.com/) For beers and dinner. A couple of Ed Asner ales and gumbo later? Things get a little fuzzy. Sunday will now be dubbed "Party Night". We hopped. We frassed. And I was grateful that I wasn't hung over the next day. (Seriously, how? I mean up and jogging by 9? You are a freak, boy) Monday we had brefkist with the Scora/n and high tailed it back to Mipples. And the fates conspired against us, yet again...and in spite of a Chinese food jones, Great Dragon was closed for the day. It seems even Martian's celebrate Labor day. * I hope I win karma points for this one. There's a story here for another blog. | | Friday, August 31st, 2007 | | 7:14 am |
Later, yo...
Have a glorious and festive Laborious Day Weekend, my fellow frasser's! Dorajar and I will be heading down to Lawrence, KS to attend (yet...another) Wedding! Congrats, Chenny and Pad Thai! We're headin' to Victor's 1959 cafe for a little Cubano Brefkist (The most important meal, you know) and then hittin' the ro-ad. I love road trips. And I need a vacation. There, I said it. wOOt!!! | | 7:09 am |
So sue. This week has been busy and uneventful. (With the exception of Dorajar taking me to a"new NE Mipples" restaurant behind Bollywood Imports. Authentic South Indian fare! My tikka chicken was good, but the aloo palak was very oily) Yeah...and um, I cracked my coffee urn? Whoops? Last weekend? Pip to the Pip: Frids- Engaged in my annual bowling loss at the alley formerly known as Stardust. I made less of an ass of myself than I normally do, and have yet to break the elusive 100 mark. Happy Birthday Wiiman! Sats- was a running around sort of day. I went and visited my nephew and bro/sis in law out in the Savage Land. Lil' Zachy has discovered giggling and goober-kisses. He's a lamprey! And, if I may say so myself, is very good at understand refined humor. My dirty jokes went over quite well, thankyouverymuch. I got home in time to nap, gussy up, and head to Stipples for Kaiser and Nic's wedding at Irvine Park before departing for the caves for some recepting. It was really great to be around so many people who I love so much, you know? The night was accentuated by cave tours, explaining to Bretmonster that I don't appreciate being called "Professor Von Junk", free booze/snick snacks, telling spooky Stipples/Caves ghost stories then having Ry-Gonn correct me (I kid, I kid) and dancing to awesome 80's goodness. (Props to Dorajar for her interpretive dance to "She's Like the Wind". She's been rehearsing for days) Oh, and congrats Kaiser and NicJoy. Happiness to you both. Sunds I made plans with AL and the gay burrito to hit the Fair. We were going to go early in the a.m. in order to get out early so that we beat the riff-raff. The day, however...proved to be a lot more interesting. That's the next blog... | | Sunday, August 19th, 2007 | | 1:25 pm |
Listy from C'Brat
1. Which is your favorite character that you've played? Hoooooo, I found affinity in almost all of them. I played Orin Scrivello in a production of "Little Shop" back in '99 that NObody saw. I loved it b/c the director basically gave me carte blanche to do whatever I wanted. Fenton, in "Merry Wives" was awesome only due to the fact that Anne and I had a very prolonged smooch that we shared. But I think Laertes in "Kung Fu Hamlet" was outstanding. I get the No Refunds guys brand of humor, and it played well to the muggy/hammy shit that I think I do well. Plus I was able to do kung fu on stage. No easy feat for 3 weeks. 2. Cats or dogs? The roommate and I had a convo about this yesterday. I love animals thru and thru, even going so far as to say that I occasionally channel St.Francis. Whenever I get around buddies who have puppies (Who are friendly. No good cozying up with a frassy dog), I roll around and play. I'll chase. I'll say stoopid things like "Nom nom nom, hap hap hap hap hap..." That being said, and even though I have a pretty dog-friendly back yard I don't think I'll ever own one. I'm away too much, and I have trouble with any kind of animal maintenence. As much as Georgie-kitty is a pain in my ass? If my house were burning down I'd skedaddle out the door- Roommate under one arm, kitty under the other. 3. How many times during a day do you look at your self in a mirror? Not enough. I've had major wardrobe malfunctions (Wrinkled/unclean shirts buttoned wrong, mismatched belt/shoes, etc) Due to the fact that I usually don't see myself until my first a.m. constitutional at the office. It's been the source of simultaneous amusement/embarrasment. 4. If you knew that in one year you were going to die, would you change anything about how you were currently living? Quite a bit. I'd probably act very bacchanalian in a "fuck it" sort of way. Eating foods I don't normally eat. Not exercise. (Probably more karate tho) Drink to excess. The usual. 5. If you could wake up tomorrow in the body/life of someone else (that you know) who would you pick? I think Redwright or Dorajar. I think that they are doing "it" right...by whatever "right" truly is. They live their lives with a lot of love in their hearts, and that's okay by me. | | Friday, August 17th, 2007 | | 4:34 pm |
| | 4:34 pm |
| | Thursday, August 2nd, 2007 | | 6:22 am |
Hey
We're safe. Hope y'all are too. | | Wednesday, August 1st, 2007 | | 4:51 pm |
Ah to the Hem...
Since I'm so much the luddite I would probably f#ck up a cut tag, the whole mess (All 50 posts worth) is here. Since July 16th. Apologies for the ramble. There was just too much. And I've been to busy/poor/frassy to post: HappyChristmasbaby.blogspot.com Hope that all 5 of my consistent readers are well, in good health and spirits, and full of love and life. M. Wah. | | Monday, July 9th, 2007 | | 6:05 pm |
Back. Backa. Oooo tu no wo-tho nee toe back-doe
Some pics. Some frass. Needless to say, I'm still on vacay. The Southwest does my heart well. Really. Coming back to the cold slap of reality which is supporting myself w/ a real job was most depressing. Still, I am reminded why I love my base of operations. Why I love the Casa/Hall of Justice. And really? Nah. I'll save it. More pics etc. to come. I may even learn to cut/tag and write an epic travelogue. Oh don't be scared. We had adventures that need a-sharin'! HappyChristmasbaby.blogspot.com (And I made it thru 4 movie/sci-fi/fantasy used books from a Moab Utah used bookstore. "Krull", "Willow", "Jaws", and "Dragonslayer". Between that and the Crosswords we did in the Microbrewpubs I feel like I've done ed-ju-ma-cated myself! | | Tuesday, June 26th, 2007 | | 7:46 am |
Sunday...fuck...was a full blown evening of insomnia. I went down at 10:30 after having stayed up until 3:30 the night before. (So worth it. The joint b'day party was a s#it ton of fun. Where else can you say that you frassed around with lightsabers to the wee hours? My hands were KILLING me the next day) I got up early after some guilty voicemail goading from the gay burrito to come over to a pre-pride party (Instead of sleeping in. Shup!) This year I just, didn't wanna go to the actual parade. I've already filled my in-town parade quota for the year with last weeks NE parade (Unless the old torchlight parade brings me out) But he was insistent I pop over and see some old buddies and swill some mimosa's. A.M goodness abounds. Except the freeways were for shit. It was two tons of fun. Really. We ate quiche, drank mim's/BM's/Screwdrivers and sat around bullshitting and catching up with twocherries, faeriepainter, and the old school porkchops. (Poor Burrito's S.O. was the first casualty. Not used to cocktailing with the big kids, I was told). By the end of the day, the sun did it's damage tho and poor boy was wiped. Instead of going for a run I went into my air conditioned home to wait for Mo-Mo to get done with rehearsal. We made it through one, count it, one episode of "Slings and Arrows" before hitting the hay. Then...nada. I was too tired to sleep. And sweating again. I couldn't keep my legs together without the perspiration driving me crazy. So it was toss, turn, grab some towels to lay down, flip, grab pillow, get cold (AC) go back under. I think I had one small weird moment of sleep where I dreamed that I was Superman and this group of villains from the phantom zone threatened my family. They then made me come out to dinner while they made frightening comments towards them which my family remained blissfully clueless. I then excused myself, and flew off to distract them and save the day. I don't even care for Superman that much. Anyway, 12 became 1 am, 1 am became 2am, etc. Etc. By the time 5 am came around I just wanted one, solid, hour of sleep. Niente. Furg. Monday felt like I spent it in an out of body experience. | | 7:46 am |
Killing me...
You want a laugh? Go to wiki and look up movies that either you've seen, or not seen, and see if they have a "Detailed Plot Summary". No lie, I've gone through almost the ENTIRE Schwarzenegger canon and the summaries are frassin' HY-Sterical. Take this little ditty from "Raw Deal": http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_%281986_film%29"Kaminsky escapes, assisted by Monique (who has grown fond of him). He then suits up, gathers an array of firearms and raids one of Patrovita's gravel pits, eventually killing everyone and walking off with the cash left behind. He hands the cash to Monique and gets her on a chartered plane, then sets off to Patrovita's casino, hidden in a basement level of a high class hotel. There, he single-handedly wipes out Patrovita and all of his men, including Rocca. On his way out, he encounters a whimpering Baxter, and offers him a gun with the same line Baxter earlier used on Kaminsky: "Resign, or be prosecuted. Any way you want it." Kaminsky starts to walk off, and when Baxter attempts to shoot him, turns and shoots Baxter in self-defense." I'm sure not everyone is going to find this as comical as I am, but thus spake the wiki. I also read up on Perseus vs. the Gorgon. Great stuff. | | Wednesday, June 6th, 2007 | | 5:26 pm |
Beck in Bleck
I'm wearing all black today. Not for some weird sense of mourning or anything like that (Well, I guess the 63rd anniversary of the Normandy Invasion could count.) It was more of "Let's stick our hand in the closet and see what kind of costume you can pull off today" kinda...deal. Well the shirt is, how do you say, sateen? The kind where when you hug someone they'll occasionally comment on the fabric. Well this shirt poofs out a little in this pirate-y sort of way. So couple the blousing blouse with my long legs and what do you get? The effect of a marshmallow being stuffed into two straws. A black marshmallow. And two black straws. I'm terrible. | | Thursday, May 31st, 2007 | | 9:23 pm |
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