Old Personal News

It's somewhere near the week ending:

Sunday, November 18th, 2001:

Hello everybody! I am in a pretty good mood here on this Sunday. It was a beautiful and productive day for me and TPG. Let's try to go back and remember some of the week, too.

I went to work every day, on time, and even worked through another lunch this week. Sales are slow, the leads are weak, but it still was not bad. I led the program on one day--for the second week in a row.
On Monday or Tuesday, I saw a fist fight at the corner of 7th street and Bell; that was interesting. Wednesday and Friday were long days, as usual. There were rumblings from the neighborhood that something was going to have to be done about the dead weight at TPG's house; I sensed them early this week. On Friday, we made our sales goal an hour early, so we got to leave early.

I could do a whole commentary on how lazy and worthless the Big Dog is, and I probably will, but it's important to try and learn something from every experience in your life. What I have learned from him is that even at my absolute lowest point (so far), I was slightly more appreciative and understanding of my surroundings.

Saturday night was an awesome dinner with narul and his queen at the neighborhood bar-b-que named Lovejoy's. We were all funny; it was like old times. Sunday morning starts with Static waking me to tell me that I'm road-tripping to the bus station. Losing 210 lbs. of dead weight can certainly improve your mood. TPG and I had a fantastic Sunday together. Beware of difficult computer jargon; I bought 256 meg DIMM of P C 133 memory. It was worth $20 just to learn how to say that. I even got free installation. KISS pinball beckons me from the floor (a Playstation game).

Right now, I'm just trying to update this mess. I want to lose some more weight, too. Bye.

Sunday, November 11th, 2001:

Wow, what a week. I have had swells of emotion both good and bad. Another friend; let's call him SCUBADIVER, lost his father this week. I guess we are at the age now for this sort of thing to be common, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with.

We have decided to start paying the horribly overpriced car insurance on a monthly basis now. Either way, I should not have to pay $2.12 a day just to drive a 13 yr. old car; that's bullshit. My coverage is good, I even have towing service...but $800 a year? I like Lydia at the insurance office, though; she was pretty funny. Oh, and the office will be staying open, even though Joe is no longer there.

At work, life just got alot better. They put me on a new program, and I'm tearing it up. I love promoting it; I worked everyday this week, and I now really like my job again. If the world lasts until mid-December, I will have an awesome bonus on that paycheck.

Also, I saw the aftermath of a car wreck on Friday, and it rocked me to writing a little 'be thankful for what you have' doodle;

Lucky Friday

And, from S. Carolina, we got a happy box in the mail; candles, a lightless lantern, and another cool alien keychain.

It's fun to watch how (obviously) all of the marketing in the world is aimed at me (the white, middle class, adult male, aged 35-40). Rush songs; like "Tom Sawyer", "Subdivisions" and "Spirit of Radio" (as well as other songs from '77 to '84) are now played at most large sports venues. It is the "me" people who are buying cars, houses, and trophy wives.
Wow, I feel special.

Sunday, November 4th, 2001

Okay, I think I know how I want to say this:

This past week has been really weird.

I skipped work 2 days. I had lots of deep thoughts; in fact, one big revelation will probably show up in file form on this webpage; wow, maybe even right here:

One Fuel Source

I watched movies; Dr. Doolittle 2, and Swordfish (finally). Both were adequate for what was intended.
I scored a -22 on Rattlesnake Ridge of the Golden Tee Fore golf fame on Friday night. I can continue to win the odd replay on the weak left-flippered Medieval Madness game, too.
The Southpark pinball is now slanted hard to the left; but on Saturday night I still managed to put my name up on it twice; 255 million, and 207.

Somebody would want me to mention that November 3rd is the 19th anniversary of my "big mutha Herbie burger" car wreck; look at me acting SO thankful for still being alive.

I have a new Sidebar due (not yet finished), as well as car insurance I can't afford to a State Farm agent who died last week (sympathies to Joe P.'s family). I'll keep you posted. This update is not boring, but it lacks the "oompf" of a David Gilmour guitar solo, or even a standard Static Girl hug.

Halloween passed with no new terrorist indulgence, and I am thoroughly disappointed. Bite me.

Sunday, October 28th, 2001:

On Monday, Static Girl's parents showed up early. We went and ate at the killer Italian Valley buffet, and I was relatively polite and a good boy for the most part.

On Tuesday, at the plasma clinic, I heard their music service for the very first time--in one of the interview booths (usually we just watch and listen to the movies that they play). The song playing was none other than "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" by Sly and the Family Stone. That song is creepy, erie, and excellent; no wonder it scared me as a kid. And then on the drive home, after almost having a wreck, on the classic rock station I heard "Betty Lou" by Bob Seger, and that put me in a better mood.

Look at me, keeping up with the days...Wednesday; shit, I forgot. And I was doing so well. I think this was the day (if not, it was the day after this) that the Meier family went hiking; Cheri woke me up and invited me, and I really wanted to go, but I backed out at the last minute. I figured that the sound of my wheezing and moaning would have been a real downer to them, you know, while they were trying to enjoy nature and stuff. Hell, I did them a favor by continuing my nap. I think Wednesday night was the night of the white bean paste veggie burgers that I ate about 3 too many of--they were awesome.

Thursday; okay, now my order is screwed up. I know this because the 2 events left were the trip to the Olive Garden, and the miniature golf (I won)--and they didn't happen on the same night. Both were fun, too.

Friday, I worked until I got written up and suspended at 2 pm. They will determine my fate on Monday--look at me shaking. After my plasma donation, I got home at 5:30, and this is when we did the big veggie taco feast (MY idea). Veggie tacos rule! It was certainly time for me to go out and drink a beer or 4, kiss chrome-dome, and smoke a pack of Camel Lights. Jeff went out, too, so I wasn't the only one running screaming for the bar.

Saturday morning I had the chance to go to the zoo with Static Girl and her extended familia, however I chose to get some more sleep. [Plus there was football, like GA/FLA, and S. Carolina at Tennessee. Get this; GA was a 19 point underdog, and S. Carolina was a 7 + 1/2 point underdog; I would have bet on both underdogs, and WON! (GA lost by 14, S. Carolina lost by 7). I'm going to pay more attention to NFL odds, too.] By the time they got back from the zoo, it was almost World Series time. For the final family dinner, we ordered 2 pizzas and wings from the Italian Buffet place--incredible!

Now it's Sunday, and they're gone. Static's parents are really cool. I am glad that they came. Perhaps we will see them again. I saved alot of money this week by not going to the bar until Friday; let's see if that helps me to pay my inflated car insurance. Speaking of car insurance, I haven't had a parking ticket in 8 years, and I haven't had a moving violation in 13 years, so why is my insurance rate going up? I drive a minvan, SLOWLY, and am hardly a hazard. State Farm is about to get a very fair inquiry from the Overnight Guy. I'll keep you posted.

Sunday, October 21st, 2001:

Personal News, yeah I got your personal news right here. I worked, but not everyday. I drank, but not everyday. I played pinball too, but not everyday. I only managed to get 130 Million on the weak left-flippered Medieval Madness, which is an incredible score, thank you. But it's nothing compared to last week's 192.

I went looking for a higher-paying job; and will continue to keep looking, too. My current job is pretty sweet, it just doesn't pay enough.

Static Parents, and Static's little brother are coming to visit. I will try to be a good boy, but I promise nothing. I may have to stop prancing around here naked while talking to myself about how pretty I am. "Can't touch this..."

Wow. Sometimes I forget really important things. Although I may scribble down tidbits from the newspaper everyday--in keeping up with newspaper news, I do not have any daily record of personal news. Usually it's just me, sitting here on a Sunday afternoon with a cup of good coffee, and thinking 'What the hell did I do this week?'. And I draw a total blank. How many days did I go to the bar? Did I write anything? Were there any drug-induced adventures at work? (Don't laugh, because there have been a few.) Were there any pinball records? I will freely admit that my personal life is anything but boring, but that doesn't mean I remember everything. In fact, I can call on witnesses who will corroborate my "selective memory". Is this still the same paragraph? Shit.

So, yeah, I wrote some stuff this week; some of it will end up here eventually. One cool thing is going to go up on my "The Musical Section" soon. And, about my musical section, you people suck. My musical section exists to get other people (like you, dumbass--or--like your dumb ass) to create your own musical sections. Mine certainly isn't perfect; you're supposed to think that you can do it better, and DO IT! I've had a musical section up for over a year (maybe longer, I don't remember), and nobody says anything to me about mine, or about theirs that mine inspired; nothing. So when you hear about my Dirty Dozen someday soon, probably next week, continue to ignore it completely. Thanks.

On 3 different days, I wrote 3 different things about women. One of them shows female stupidity, one of them says it's not all their fault, and one of them says...something I don't remember. But perhaps this could be an active link:

Women / 3 Parts

And so it goes. Maybe I should keep a daily record of my oh-so-important activities:
"Today I drank 9 cups of coffee and shit on myself twice; it was a fun day, but I'm running out of underwear again." Jeez.
Oh yeah, I can hardly wait.

Sunday, October 14th, 2001:

We have to try to make things count here. I have been poor, so everything revolves around low investment. I did try out the new bar-b-que place; Lovejoys. It was okay. I paid lots of attention to Cheri, and she appreciated most of it. There's not really much here; except that I'm about to toot my own pinball horn--pretty hard, too. Oh yeah; twice, even.

Wednesday night on Medieval Madness, with a weak left flipper--NOT ONE shot up the Damsel ramp for the whole game, I scored 192 million. It was even witnessed by the kid of the other guy who thinks he's as good as I am. For a little while there, I was completely golden--I could feel it. That is the feeling that you want to achieve in pinball, and I had it. I had not had that feeling since my 4 hour, 15 billion game of Addam's Family back in 1999.

The new machine at my bar is the Southpark pinball machine. I still don't quite understand it all, but it's fun. On my first full game of it (also on Wednesday night), I scored 416 million. It is the new high score on the machine, and it's still up there. I am sure that the score will not last too long, but that was a pretty good first game, thank you.

I took Thursday off from work, and will probably regret it later. Oh well. Did you rule any pinball this week?

October 7th, 2001

We have 2 new guinea pigs, I forgot about that last week... If couples were to start by having a plant, then move up to having a pet, then move up to a high-maintenance pet, then do that "nursing a bag of sugar" trick for a week apiece, and only THEN foolishly decide to have a kid--after not killing any of these said baby-steps toward parenting, then you might have some responsible parents. But I doubt it.

Living with almost no money is fun. I don't get to go to the bar as much, but I am appreciating things more. For example, I took rift to the new pizza, wings, and salad buffet--and we had an absolute blast. I even got to feed her cheesecake. It was, overall, a 2 hour adventure. Ask her about it.

At work, I worked every day this week, even a few extra hours--being flat fucking broke will motivate you.

Wednesday night, the West Wing episode: 25 million people were watching this show that was created in one week, and it did not disappoint. Mind you, it was no better than an average West Wing show, but it was as good as one. So, when some middle-eastern yahoo wants to know why Americans treat him poorly, you can just quote Leo; "That's the price you pay for having the same physical characteristics as terrorists." Overall, for the rushed episode of the West Wing:
Overnight Guy's Grade: B+

This upcoming week should be lots of fun. If I see any terrorist activity, I will determine the best course of action for the world.

End of September:

I went to work a couple of days this week; bite me. If you're looking for some kind of motivational thumbs-up, then continue your search elsewhere. I walk around and mumble bomb noises, and the choked screams that might follow. Tick tock.

Sunday, September 23rd, 2001:

12 days ago we were attacked by terrorists. We have done nothing in response. I want to see some little brown, turban-wearing women and children blown to bits--on my tv--in a fog of nerve gas and grenade smoke.

Then I want to see a million ashtrays shaped like Afghanistan; called

Monday 9-17-01 Update:

I am fully expecting lots of people to come up to me and ask why the world didn't end. And I'm just going to smile and say "Hey, I did my best." As I pointed out to Static Girl herself; I don't measure out astrological charts of planetary alignment--to predict changes and write reports. I don't decipher the magical clues hidden in the predicted dates of the Great Pyramid--and list them in books. I don't know which of the many prophecies to pay attention to; Mayan, Egyptian, Hopi, Aztec. All I did was read the "findings" of some supposed "experts" who have turned out to be full of shit. It wasn't ME who was predicting the stuff, it was just me trying to get the word out. To be honest, I could not care much less.

What I have paid attention to in the past is the guidance of established prophets; mainly Edgar Cayce and some of Nostradamus. Nostradamus is the "Don King" of future visions (old, goofy looking, and long-winded). Cayce, more like "Rocky Balboa", was an American, in the 20th Century, and a chain-smoker (my hero). All Cayce ever said directly was that the poles would shift in 2000, or 2001; and I believe they will. Mix the "pole shift" idea with 9-17-01 being the last date in the Great fucking Pyramid, and I saw a possible connection. At this time, the Egyptians are now full of shit, too. There're at least 3 months left in this year, and a couple more days that could wind up being pretty interesting.

So here's what we'll do...You keep going on with your pathetic little nothing life; watch tv for the "fake war" updates, save money, buy insurance, and plan ahead. Me? I'm going to keep on living every day like it's my last; I've been full of energy, partying hard, watching lots of movies, and hearing some great music. Food tastes excellent, water has never been more refreshing, I think my mood has improved a bit, too. Every day that I wake up again is just another chance to worship my woman, and play pinball.

Sunday, September 16th, 2001:

Well, Monday was a good day. I worked, drank, and slept. Tuesday was when it started getting weird. It's hard to be a telemarketer during a national crisis. So we left early on Tuesday. I laid out Wednesday and Thursday. Went to work Friday for payday. This is boring. I think I went to the bar every night this week--just in case the world ended early. Priorities.

Sunday, September 9th, 2001:

First there was a Holiday Monday. Then there were 2 consecutive party nights, and we laid out of work on Wednesday. That's where it gets all hazy. I think I worked 3 out of the 4 days this week; that's pretty good. And there was at least one night that I didn't go to the bar. Why does it always center around work, and the bar? I feel like Homer Simpson.

I did some writing this week...actually, it was more like some typing. The story mostly was written a few months ago. Bits of it had to be changed, and I did add to it, and now it's here for you to study or ignore:

Job Application

As for other personal news, I have been in foul moods this past week, even when getting plenty of sleep. It's almost like I have alot on my mind or something. Jeez. Also, I have been trying to judge the overall attitude of my few fellow humans; not those closest to me, but the others that I see on a daily basis. My determinations are less than stellar. In conclusion; I think that we're about ready to go underwater. One really big tsunami, just one 200 foot wave ripping across 1000 miles of desert, yeah. That would be an attitude adjustment.

I'm so lost. At some point in the past week (here's a quick peek inside my brain) "Monday; no, Tuesday! Wait, it could have been Wednesday; but wasn't it Tuesday? I thought it was Monday, but it might have been Wednesday..." You get the idea. Somewhere in there, with many beers, I was crowned again with another 323 million game on Medieval Madness.

Chris is actually Ron; and Dave is actually Bill. Confused? So am I.

Sunday, September 2nd, 2001:

Oh God, not this again. I'm trying to come up with Sidebar 29 fodder, and you want details on the magic that makes me what I am. Great. I almost wrote some more stuff this week; a commentary on how stupid bilingual education would be, and an idea for our standing military. In fact, let's do them:

Language: If you expect to survive in America, then you will learn some English. If you expect to succeed in America, then you will learn lots of English. If you want to bilinguify something, then why don't you speak your non-English at home? That was easy.

National Security: George W. wants to build $200 million planes, and set up a big umbrella "missle condom" over our country--to protect us from nuclear/bio-chemical/nerve gas/etc. IN FACT, a standing army is so irrelevant now that finally some of them have been dispatched to help the real "soldiers" fighting the fires out west. Take it one step further, you elected assholes, and let's put some armed soldiers on the U.S. Border. After all, it is called "National Security".

Whether good or bad, people rarely listen to me. I went to the bar almost every night this week, and still worked all but 4 hours. I even ruled the last monitoring session (no news is good news; and I was the ONLY one who got no news).

There are many other things that I want to write about. Remember folks, I have been looking for an intelligent pro-life argument since 1987. As it turns out, I had 2 intelligent people try to give me good arguments today. Seriously. As it turns out, the big dog (Jeremy) considers himself pro-life. However, he has a large and complicated "gray" area that has little or no regard for human life. So; uh, he's out. The manager guy at the bank said that he was pro-life...except for rape, incest, or health problems. Without too much sarcasm, I explained to him that he was not pro-life. This is a classic example of how allowing stupid people to explain themselves really doesn't do any good. If one of you has a good pro-life argument, please submit it to me. You people are all misguided morons; and mostly unaware of your own platforms. "Well, I'm pro-life except for when..." No; you dumbass. If there is even ONE exception, then you are pro-choice.

More to write about: The End
Exactly what is the end of the world? Is it when all life is exterminated? Is it when (like in Dark Angel) an electromagnetic pulse fries all the computers? Is it when Marshall Law takes effect? Is it WWIII? Is it when there are no more police and no electricity? I say that when life stops being about accomplishments, and starts to be about food, clothing and shelter for today--that's the end of the world.

Sunday, August 26th, 2001:

Where the hell are we? It has been a really fun week; so fun that I don't remember most of it. Tuesday night was a big party with Jeremy and Robert at the bar, I spent all my blood money. Didn't work Wednesday; so what? I found more cookies, more "shampoo" (that's a Dax V and TPG reference), and acted like I was still important. Did some laundry in TPG's new washer/dryer, and I may have drunk a beer or 2 this week.

Is there anything relevant this week? Possibly not. Oh well. I hope that your week was productive.

Sunday August 19th:

In one week; Clapton, Dylan, Depeche Mode, Dennis Miller, Aerosmith, and Lynyrd Skynyrd/Ted Nugent all played in town. All of these shows cost at least $50. What kind of really desperate fucks are there who simply must see these dinosaurs before they turn into fossil fuels? $50? Not even in their prime(s), thank you.

Before this turns into a drunken, bong hit, pot-cookie, free-for-all pinball story; let me assure you that I did some writing this week. I wrote something about stupid women:

Stupid Women/Married Men

and I wrote up my first ever, and soon to be submitted letter to the Arizona Republic Newspaper. It's called:

Letter to the Republic

I got my first bonus, ever, from IMG on this week's paycheck. Smoked, drank, got my transmission worked on, smoked, drank, worked most of the week--except for Thursday when I showed up at lunch; oops. Saturday was a biggie; huge even. Static Girl completely rehabilitated my computer; she even put me on her Earthlink thing, and created an icon for me that says "Earthlink me baby". Later, Jeremy and I went and saw the sneak preview of "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" at my old movie theater,

Snootchie bootchies!

and then I went to Famous Sam's and put 380 million on Medieval Madness (essentially doubling my old high score). "Kindbud Cookies" would be a great band name.

Sunday night, now, is the season finale of "Six Feet Under". After that, tv is going to suck ass. Sheesh.

Sunday August 12th:

Where are we? Sunday night I went back to the bar. Monday I worked and wrote stuff. Tuesday I also worked and wrote stuff. In fact, on Tuesday I completed a description of my relationship with Static Girl--a description that is supposed to make the common moron (you) begin to understand how well ours is working. Unfortunately, the title

Indiana Jones and the Romance Metaphor Epic

was a tad more ambitious than the final product. Of course, I could rename the thing, but that's a pretty good name. (In the 80's, sometimes a band would conceive an entire video before the song was actually written. Unfortunately, that's a simile.) Where the hell was I? Oh yeah...So look; don't click on it, don't read it; really, it'll just make you jealous. If you want to click on something, then wait for Thursday.
So on Tuesday night I went out to celebrate...something. Um...oh yeah! I wrote that thing. I wound up exercising the worst judgement imaginable--within my own parameters. I don't even want to admit what I did in the name of beer. The miraculous part is that I was ONLY an hour late for work on Wednesday. I worked the entire day (somehow), and came home for a little nap. I did not drink, smoke or go out Wednesday; I may have even sworn to never drink or smoke again--many times--on Wednesday. Luckily I get over these little "moods" in about a day. By the way, Tuesday night was ALL Robert's fault.
Wednesday night with Cheri was very sweet.
Thursday...what the hell happened on Thurs, oh yeah, I turned 36. They got me a great card at work; I almost got in a fight with one of the darker-skinned "quota-boys" at work, and I led the room on my program.
On a whim at work on my birthday, I started writing out my

10 Reasons Why I Want Barry Bonds to Hit More Than 70 Home runs This Year

Yay. Then we went to go get drinking money, I mean, we went to go give plasma.
At home, Cheri came in with 3 cool signs she made for me at work, and then we road-tripped down to CDGB's so she could buy me the new Depeche Mode CD, Exciter.
By 7:30, Jeremy and I had a nice start going for a big party night.
I woke up Friday at 10 am, and cleaned house for 3 hours. It felt good to sweat out some of the junk. I may have sworn to never smoke cigarrettes again (and 2wice in 1 week is rare, but I'll get through it).
Paul, Jeremy, Cheri and I all went and ate at Que Pasa (finally), and it was great. #7's rule! Too full to go out, Cheri and I watched a movie. In some cultures, this would have been a very boring Friday night. I, however, had a blast. Many thanks to all. Mom called, so did Jon. I feel special. I still feel OLD as dirt, but I feel a little special, too.
Saturday had me reading the paper and doodling; waiting to go out Saturday night. And we did. Hooray beer. Thanks to Static Girl's parents, I am Domain Man.
Arriving home on Saturday night, I got a phone call from TPG, telling me to turn on the television to channel 8 (the universal 'public channel'). I had visions of Deep Throat waking up Fox Mulder with a call to tune in to some covered-up news story--like that awesome first season finale episode. But then I remembered the last time TPG told me to tune in to public tv was for a Styx concert--and THAT was great. I tuned in on Saturday night to find another concert; the Electric Light Orchestra (ELO)--with Jeff Lynne fronting. Wow! Jeff quit the band like 5 years ago, but apparently he's back. I got to see "Telephone Line", "Turn to Stone", and "Mr. Blue Sky" LIVE onstage. They sounded sharp, too. Again I wished I had $50 to donate to public television.
Oh well.

Time to read the Sunday coffee, and drink 4 or 5 cups of paper.

Sunday August 5th:

Sunday night was a very nice meal with Static Girl at the old Taco Stand of Phoenix.
Monday, I tried to write something for Cheri at work, but it wimped out. Monday (payday!) night at the bar was really good. So good, in fact, that we decided to take Tuesday off. We got oil changed and tires rotated at the great new C + R tire place on Cave Creek. We need new tires though. Donate money to my new tire fund and I promise to not drink it...maybe.
Tuesday night? I don't remember.
Wednesday I wrote a little something for Cheri at work; 'ice cream for my heart'. Wednesday night I drank a gallon at the bar (so much for my "2 beer limit on a weeknight" rule).
Amazingly, I went to work Thursday--and even did really well; had another crash and burn attempt to write for Cheri too. Thursday night, what 2 beer rule?, Robert helped to try to make me miss Friday work--but I went.
Trying to write in "free form" for Cheri is fun, but I really need an outline so that I can focus, direct, and concentrate my efforts in a specific direction. I only took a 15 minute lunch, and got to leave early, too. I am the man. Friday night...
Jeremy and I went to check out a couple of bars on Indian School; Liquori some shit name thing--they have a beat-up Baywatch pinball machine, and finally we saw the inside of the Mason Jar; nice. Too bad that they're 11 miles away from us. Then we came back to our neighborhood for a pinball festival at Sam's. I did very well. I came home and learned that grapes are a great drunk food. I will do more research too.
Saturday night had Jeremy, Paul and me going to Famous Sam's to check out Medieval Madness pinball. This was fun. I "Battled for the Kingdom" and wound up with 197 million. Jeremy slam-tilted away a dollar I gave them, and then walked away from one of my pitchers of beer; as I told him--the party is over. Golf was decent, too. Lots of beer.
My head hurts.

Sunday July 29th:

I don't remember much about Monday. Maybe the power went off. I'm pretty sure that I went to the bar. And I may have gone to the bar Sunday night, too. Sometimes I forget.

On Tuesday, at the blood plasma place, I was called in to see the nurse. She informed me that my blood has a large amount of the Hepatitus "A" antibodies. This is a good thing. My plasma will help keep more people from getting Hepatitus (Screw the other people; do I get more money?), my plasma will be very helpful for the families of the individual people who have Hepatitus (Screw the families; do I get more money?), and my plasma will possibly help to find a cure for Hepatitus (Screw the cure; do I get more money?). And, on a completely irrelevant note (because I do so enjoy helping out humanity), I get an extra $5 every time I donate now.

I did not go to the bar, okay? I do not have a dinking problem; people with drinking problems go to the bar everyday. And I did not go the bar on Tuesday night; I'm almost absolutely positive of it.

Wednesday night at the bar--I made some progress. On the new Medieval Madness pinball I scored 153.5 million. Also, I learned that during the latter stages of a really good score, there are ways to get lots of points in big chunks. This game took about 45 minutes to play; eventually I will get that 500 million high score.

Immediately following this game of pinball, I went and played the good Golf game (that had been fixed earlier that day) and got -18 on Rattlesnake Ridge (which is my 2nd best game ever). It was a good night for gaming.
Also on Wednesday, I watched some of this show "Family Guy" (on Fox); that was funny! Taped a great re-run West Wing, too.

On Thursday, I really wanted to go to work...sort of...I probably COULD have...definitely SHOULD have...but I decided to sleep in. Why? Because I fucking can; remember, we are in MY world now. And, my ear did actually hurt a little. Later, Plasma West gave me $50 to drink on this weekend.

Thursday night was another fun bar party night--even though I knew I shouldn't have gone. At least I'm consistent. But I did get up Friday morning and go to work. Work sucked. And then we got monitored...and during the monitoring I messed up the perfect record that I had. I was pissed; Joe was pissed, and the client was pissed. You know how sometimes when you mess up really bad, and you KNOW that you messed up, and it's your own damn fault that you messed up, and you just want to sink down under the floor--flat and invisible and quiet--and just eliminate reality altogether? That's how I felt. And it's a really shitty feeling. But I stayed the whole day, and even did very well after lunch. Yay.

And then there was Friday night. After a good "Invisible Man" (the cool people call it "I-Man"), I went to the bar and had a blast. Robert is cool.

Saturday (God damn, this is like one of those worthless 'web-journal' little fucking bullshit things.) I took Jeremy to get an official Arizona ID...so now Jeremy can go to the bar! Wow, all of a sudden it looks like I'll be going to the bar again. I go to the bar about as often as the Seattle Mariners win; roughly 6 times a week. My head hurts.

TPG's restaurant got robbed Saturday night; luckily nobody was injured. I was at the bar when I found out about it; is that symbolic?

Sunday starts with the usual hangover, and then we opened the big birthday box from Mom--while on the phone with her. Nice. I want some Mexican food, maybe.

Sunday July 22nd:

Wow, what a week! Big Dog showed up with no driver's license, no ID, no prescription eyewear, and no money. It's almost like he just shoved some clothes in a bag and got on a bus; yeah, well, I've done some crazy shit like that before too. Ask my mom.

Wednesday night at the bar! Partied HARD with Golf buddy Robert. On our final game of golf (after 5 beers), ripped all to hell, I somehow got -19. Then I walked over to the pinball machine to find that MY Elvira game is gone. It's been replaced with Medieval Madness. I can get replays, but that 500 million high score is going to be tough to top.

Because of the fun that was Wednesday night, I slept in on Thursday until around noon thirty. Chalk it up as one more 4-day work week for me!

On Friday, at work (yes, I went) we were praised by our employers for making the month of July profitable (already). The contracts for the program that I work on have been renewed again, and we are apparently kicking ass.

On Sunday night I went to the bar to play pinball. I have the highest recent score at 103.5 million. Woo.

Sunday July 15th:

I worked 80% of the week, and even got in trouble for missing a day. Sold some more CD's for money, and had a pretty good time overall. The sign may have said "Keep off the grass", but it wasn't talking about me.

I certainly hope that you're not looking to me for inspiration to do weird shit like read books, help the needy, or pretend that all people are inherently good; 'cause that ain't my style.

There is a library in my neighborhood; there's also a post office (TPG and I found it together). There's even a recreation-type facility that is walking distance from my apartment. Obviously, I need to get out more. Oh well.

I wrote some stuff, too. In fact, I wrote this poem and then celebrated by going out, partying hard, and missing work the next day. Oops.

Who Knows: Part 2

I wrote a couple of other things, too. Unfortunately, sometimes the completed activities fall far short of their intended elevations. I am going to try to paraphrase the pinball situation; but that will come after my Invisible Man comments.

Since Ally McBeal got crappy, and Dark Angel fell from Grace, there's only one show left that Static Girl and I watch together; The Invisible Man, on the Sci-Fi channel. This show has decent plots, a couple of hot chicks, a prankster partner, and the lead guy, Vincent Ventressca, is awesome. He's about 30 years old, good-looking, with a great voice, and he's about as stable as a recovering alcoholic. The show is thrown together loosely, but well; it is extremely entertaining, has great music, and it never takes itself too seriously. (Yes, this show easily could be portrayed as the tv equivalent of my old radio shift, but that's not where I was going.) Folks; what exactly are you looking for from a tv show? I am glad to have found one small candle that eliminates my need to curse the darkness.

Pinball: I keep forgetting the point that I'm trying to make here...You might play one game of pinball, really well, for over an hour...In fact, you could get 9 times the replay score on that one game--but you might not get a high score. Deal with it. I mean; I was very proud of my 72 million. But my lowest of 4 high scores is 84 million.

Late on Sunday, I bought an old "juicer" from Franklin for $20. Let's see if this starts a new trend of health around here.

The newest east coast transplant to Arizona lands here tomorrow morning. His name is "Big Dog", and this should be a fun week.

Sunday, July 8th, 2001

Well, the week without Static Girl has ended unceremoniously. I remained calm and unfettered; and actually got some sleep, too (a 2-day work week will do that sometimes). Let's not talk about how much I drank, or the research I did on the primal urges of a 35 yr old man. Let's just say "Hey, I'm glad that my Queen has returned.", and leave it at that.

At work, I set 2 personal (and 1 room) sales records...you know, on the um, 2 days I actually went to work. You know what; never mind.

I've been leaving phone messages on this guys voice mail, in response to an ad in the newspaper where they want a part time telemarketer to do some work for an AM radio station. I do lots of voices, and I scream and yell, and I tell this guy that he's too chicken to call me, and I make "clucking noises"; and it's pretty funny. And it will continue to be...until he puts a restraining order on me. Hey look; he's either going to hire me, or have me arrested; I'm comfortable with that.

I did some writing (in between the drinking and the sleeping--hey, call me a "Hemingway"). Where was I? Oh yeah; writing! Here ya go:

Six Feet Under

YOU probably could not care less about my accomplishments at the bar, but I do. So we'll need to keep some sort of accounted time frame.
In the month of June, on Scared Stiff pinball, I had a 103 million game (with TPG watching), and then later I had a 108 million game alone.
On the new Golden Tee's, I have gotten -17 twice.

Sunday, July 1st, 2001

I have no personal news. You're lucky that I even got online and changed this piece of shit.

Wait, I did write some crap. In fact, I created two turds this week:

Sporting Problems


I worked some, the power went off, and I didn't kill any children.

See? Not much personal news at all.

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