Old Personal News

(starting September 15th, 2002)

Sunday, December 15th, 2002

Monday had a couple of hours on the phone--trying to get the worker's compensation ball rolling; no love. To compensate, I cleaned the house; both Everclear albums were my "sweeping and mopping" music. The Everclear tear was inspired by watching the movie "Loser" Monday morning. Did you know that Athen's own Trinket had a song (Bloom) in the "Loser" soundtrack? I notice things. And then I cooked vittles; sort of. I made a veggie delight (cucumbers, avocado and broccoli) for my awesome veggie delight girlfriend. She liked it so much that she left me a thank you note. So I went for liquid therapy with Al. Our best golf ever; I own all 3 courses. Tuesday has me back on the phone trying to get answers from the Industrial Commission; they apparently have none. Tomorrow I will get my own answers. For a change of pace, I wore my street hikers out. The support felt really great; easiest walking since I broke my ass. During Charmed, Depeche Mode's "Dream On" was in it, and I sang; impressed all of my pocket money women. While driving, I came to the musical conclusion that Marrs "Pump Up the Volume" (1985) may be one of the 10 best ever--because it tries to do so much--and succeeds. I figure things out. Dollar store chili (a great band name) was for dinner, then Static Girl and I watched K-Pax--a good movie. Wednesday morning had lots of back pain. I went to go see Dr. Pirie, my new family doctor. She's a body-builder from the 80's, and she totally digs me; hey, she hugged me goodbye. Found the problem with the worker's comp paperwork; now we have to fix the problem. Note to any moron who reads this; Christmas from the Overnight Guy is coming late (and cheap) this year. I got out and ran some errands; people are stupid, mean, and cannot drive. Advanced Care's billing company, the main fuck-ups in my medical dilemma, still haven't taken care of anything. But I will get through. The newspaper today had tons of crazy shit in it. And I wrote about

Racial Mixing

Wednesday evening. After typing out some of my love for pinball, I decided to go play some. It was good, and then Bill showed up. We wound up closing down Gallagher's with 3 games of Golden Tee.I think I forgot to tell you that Ray Krone's sister is all pissed off at me and threatening me and stuff. You would think that even with NO attorney at all Kronie could have easily shown how his teethmarks were not the same as the ones in question, but maybe the whole prosecution was a smokescreen. I'll try to get some more information from sister Krone, because I want to do another commentary about our frequently "inductive", and sometimes "convenient" legal system. And then it's Thursday; talk about a blind spot; veggie lasagna. Friday comes, and it's time to go pick up Mom packages at the post office. Caught up with Brent. I cooked some rice, yummy kettle chips, fantastic snuggle, and I'm off to close down Sam's with Al, Steve, and a generous Dave. This led to a hurling bathroom adventure, and a slow Saturday until 4 pm. Dad's package came, yay. Ran some errands, and I'm off to Sam's to play Junkyard pinball. 1 game, 145 million, thank you very much. Solo golf, and then I'm home to crash. Now it's my last Sunday before the Iowa trip, and I'm gonna go see TPG.

Sunday, December 8th, 2002

After such early productivity, I went...somewhere...elephino. Sunday night I went for more liquid therapy while the Saints won--good for Atlanta. Monday was the return trip to Advantage Care. 2 trips, actually. No work until further notice; bummer. Went and got my doughnut; yeah, 'have another doughnut'. Apparently I am not quite ready for regular snuggle, and later it would become more liquid therapy with Al. So then I roll around Tuesday with the cold guinea pigs, and then go for pocket money. No luck in trying to talk to the Industrial Commission. Got some groceries. Stayed in. Wednesday getting out of bed was easier, yay. Static Girl was in a mood, so we pretty much avoided her. Out to rule golf with Barney. Late nachos, and bed. Waking up Thursday was tough again, and that pissed me off. Finally got through to the Industrial Commision; they don't have my paperwork yet. Okay; but at least we now know. It became a Junkyard pinball festival at Sam's; I meant to get the other 2 high scores--so that I would have all 4; and I did (you now need 64 million just to get on--good luck). Friday is kind of lazy. I watched my A+E specials on Richard Pryor and Andy Kaufman, wow. Wound up out with Brent to rule golf again; and Sam's. Home for crash. Up Saturday, getting ready for the SEC championship, watched the "Rumble in the Jungle" on ESPN classic; sweet. To Sam's for the UGA romp. To save money, I came home for nachos. Trouble sleeping, but we're up Sunday for the Falcons/Bucs. Went and rented "Man on the Moon", "K-Pax", and "Monsters Inc.", then went to Sam's to watch the Packers come back again. Home for great nachos, and to sleep. Waking up Monday was not fun.

Sunday, December 1st, 2002

Later on Sunday, I head up to TPG's with a sirloin roast. We footballed, Sportsnighted, and ate like kings. Later I went out to watch an amazing Sunday night football game at Sam's. Emily called while I was out. On Monday, at work, during lunch, a folding chair disintegrated underneath me, and I fell to the floor. My tailbone went numb, and pain developed above the actual point of impact--which is kind of confusing. Work suggested that I go see my doctor (wish I had one), so I came home to find a real doctor in the phone book. The real doctors in the phone book all said that what I have is an "industrial accident" that goes under the heading of worker's compensation. Whatever. So girlfriend takes me to Advantage Urgent Care, where I got checked out by Dr. Rudy. Rudy says to go get X-rays, but I can't get them until tomorrow morning, great. Walgreen's went above and beyond to create my worker's compensation file, and give me my prescription. I did get X-rays Tuesday morning, and then went to work 3 hours late (7 hours have been wasted on this injury so far, and no snuggle). Worked, did the pocket money dance, and came home to call Dr. Rudy to find out that I have broken tailbone vertebra, around S3 and S4. Yes, I busted my ass. Wednesday morning was an adventure--trying to get out of bed. No work. Rudy said that my struggles were fairly common. Later, no snuggle again. Thursday, Thanksgiving, I went to narul's for a feast, and to write out my (now famous) My Thanksgiving e-mail. Football, Sportsnight, and I'm home for Gran Turismo2 (I played at least 20 hours of GT2 this week). Friday was payday, and I stumbled to work to pick up my check; Joe sympathizes with the broken tailbone. Shopping with girlfriend, and later we engineered some excellent limited affection. Emily called, wanting attention, right before I went to do liquid therapy; sorry Em. Home early, crashed early. Lots of sleep. Woke way too early, decided to stay up to root through UGA killing Ga Tech. Dad and Dave O. called, but I went to go waste a few hours with Barney. Wound up at Sam's, leaning in a corner, to watch 'Bama beat Hawaii, USC beat Notre Dame, and FSU beat FLA--I think. Home with (oh no) a bag of cheeseburgers again; heartburn again. Off to bed, and to wake up Sunday morning at 11 am. More fun trying to get out of bed, but here I am. What will today hold? Happy freakin' December everybody.

Sunday, November 24th, 2002

Last Sunday, yeah, cool, after 2 pm I headed up to TPG's for steak, football, 3 loads of laundry, and 5 episodes of Sportsnight. Later, to Sam's, Gallagher's, and home. Hugging Julie started an impressive week of female attention. On time Monday, I'm training, it's tamale day. Home for more mashed-in-the-pan potatos, great snuggle, no patience for Barney, and it's a MNF golf tournament with Al. Somehow we are on time Tuesday, very hungover, dehydrated, zit lip, trying to get sick, can't focus--can't even read the paper until after 9 am, throat hurts, full draining sinuses--post nasal flood, finally got to feeling better at the end of the day when Andrea marches up to me and loudly announces 'you got my number, right?'. I revel and take the number, thank you. To pocket money, home for burritos and a viewing of "Clerks". Later, during sleep, I had the neat-o dream with Emily. On time Wednesday, home to create ricebeanshroom, snuggle, and out for 71 million on Junkyard pinball. Early Thursday, sniffly, but effective. To pocket money, where girls are talking to me, and Emily slides me her number(!), home with a green can-opener to rip my finger open making some kind of chili-tamale-jalapeno stuff that makes you cry and sweat (yum). Friday, early again, a long day. Home for pizza, and out for another golf tournament with Al. Home to pass out by midnight, and then I slept till 1 pm Saturday.
Friday night I taped the new 2-hour show about the Roswell crash on Sci-Fi. It was really good; a picture is worth 1000 words, and a picture WITH words pretty much proves everything;
take that!
Afterwards, instead of being happy to just be alive on Saturday, I'm over here wondering why I feel so blah. TPG reminds me that beer is a great cure for blah, so why not go watch LSU beat Ole Miss at the bar? Okay. And then I did 90 mil on Junkyard; it's early, but it's empty, so I came home with a bag of cheeseburgers again, crashed early again, woke up with heartburn again, hmmm. Up at 10 am Sunday to do some cleaning, fail miserably at Gran Turismo, and I'm getting ready for a trip to narul's. Happy noon everybody; go San Diego! (losing 10-3 to Miami right now) I want to eat, I want to drink, I want to scratch, I want to call Emily; I have issues!

Sunday, November 17th, 2002

After being so productive so early last Sunday, I decided to go trash the rest of it. Wound up drooling at Sam's by 8 pm, so I came home with a bag of cheeseburgers. Hello heartburn. Lots of sleep. At work Monday I was staring. Monday evening I don't really remember; so it was something like snuggle, and then out for beer and golf. Tuesday was a standard workday, standard pocket money, but on the way home some dumbass blonde bitch screamed at me for being on her ass; this is rush hour traffic. She called the cops, and then backed her car into me. You can imagine the rush of emotion this gave me, considering how calm and centered I usually am. Somehow, I did not kill this bitch. I sat patiently and waited 30 minutes for the cop to show up. He laughed it all off, but confirms that I did the right thing by waiting. I wrote that stripper cunt's tag # down, and we'll see if it leads to anything. So I came home Tuesday night in shock. TPG said I deserved a beer, but I stayed in. Wednesday at work, I trained Selene on DSL. She has a bad attitude toward it, but it ain't my problem. Home for rice, some long distance chatter, snuggle, and out with Barney. The early start turns into a no start, with me getting yanked around completely. So I went to Sam's and played golf late with Al. Fun. Wound up oversleeping Thursday morning and shitting all over myself; later, at work, I would brag about it. Got written up for being late; bite me. Weird feelings about the world, the end of it, and how I don't matter. What the fuck does matter? I needed some pocket money, and got some, then 2-store shopping, and home for nachos plus last night's West Wing, and a good Scrubs. Managed some good sleep Thursday night, and early for work Friday. Weird day with blips of passion and rage. Amidst all kinds of strange mental tangents, I have concluded that Matt Frewer's "Doctor Doctor" character (Dr. Mike Stratford) is the best example for the backbone of my personality. Got 3 Scrabble words, and wound up writing a poem (Girl Next Door) for Static Girl in 2002 (Finally!). Payday means a trip to Target to get the 6 DVD set of Sportsnight for TPG, yay (just wait till Sunday). Paid my cheaper insurance, and had mixed veggies with my girlfriend. Enriched double snuggle, and I'm off with Barney for golf. Later to Sam's, too. Home for shiver-puking like a true alcoholic. Up before noon on Saturday, getting ready for UGA's big day in Auburn. I called my girlfriend a "PETA freak", so she made me clean the kitchen floor. Wound up enabling Barney, and watching the Dawgs pull a come-from-behind victory while playing golf; wow. Then it's to Sam's where I have all 3 golf high scores, and many trips through the neighborhood. Home with a bag of cheeseburgers again; passed out early again, woke up at 4 am with heartburn again, but have so far managed to maintain control of my bladder and bowels, wood knock. Dragon breath, Rolaids, and UGA will play for the SEC championship; kiss me. Why can't I sleep? Got a couple more hours of sleep, then played on the webpage here with some strong coffee; it's noon Sunday.

Sunday, November 10th, 2002

Last Sunday was the 20th anniversary of my biggest brush with death; so we CAN look at what happened last Sunday as some kind of measuring stick for my world, maybe. Shit; I don't know. Last Sunday I went up to TPG's house for steak and 2 loads of laundry. It took 2 trips to 2 different groceries to get it all organized, but we did it. You now need a pass code to get into narul's side of the apartments; it was tricky and frustrating, but we did it. Good steak, laundry and football. Home at 8:30 to go rule PGA golf with Barney. I got my first high score ever, a -15, and I'm addicted to backspin. Home at 11:15 to remember that it has been 20 years. I had lots of trouble sleeping, but that figured to be part of the deal. Some strange noises in my room made me feel like I wasn't alone. The snooze button got in my way Monday morning; to work with no shower. Not a bad day, just tired. Home for a nap, and then out to play. Another -15. Tuesday was a weird workday. Slow on sales for everybody, and Joe had to bitch us out. Pocket money, and to shop. At Food 4 Less my bread and soda were both less than 10 feet from the front door; cool. While walking around, I realized that where usually they play Mexican music, today we're hearing "Over My Head" by Fleetwood Mac. To Fry's grocery for the 10$ chicken dinner that's only 5$ with my Fry's card. I maybe was going to go out anyway, but then girlfriend called me a stupid alcoholic. Huh? So I responded by saying 'Fine; I'm goin' out drinking.' This gets pretty big now. I pull a -17, my best game ever. As we're leaving, we watch a car with 2 drunk people plow into this other car, and then drive away. I take Barney home, and because it's only 11 pm, I decide to go by Sam's. It becomes a crisis resolution drivin' and pukin' thing, the funniest ever. I get most of the puke off of me, and go to Sam's for more golf and pinball. Home late, it doesn't look like I'll be working on Wednesday, right? Wrong. I wake up early, somehow, and take a long shower; nice. To work, and I feel like death. Forgot to bring the rest of my chicken. But they let me verify a few sales, and that made me feel better. A few people did get sent home, but not me, and I actually got another DSL sale. Home to go straight for a nap. Up later for chicken, good snuggle and West Wing with my awesome girlfriend. Brent pissed me off on the phone again. Looking forward to some better sleep tonight. What a week! And it's only Wednesday night! Thursday there's more terror at work; who will be sent home next? It's widespread panic; I try to calm people down, but everybody acts like a sniper has us in his crosshairs. While not getting sent home, I wrote out Fried Phoenix. At pocket money, I broke the machine--sort of. They recommend that I eat heavily and down at least a quart of water; okay, so I went drinking. Pool tourney at Sam's; I watched Al and Carl both kick major ass. Later, Al and I would have a golf competetion--he's getting better. Home late, but going to work an easy job where they love me, at 8 am, ain't so tough. More people are sent home, but not me, I'm still like the crippled vegetable; yes folks, I am "special". Out and home at 4; veggies in guacamole dip, impressive snuggle, and out to get another -17 on PGA golf. Then to Sam's. I must have done really well, 'coz I don't remember shit. Girlfriend wakes me up at 1 pm; it's strong coffee, Code Red, an amazing LSU comeback on Kentucky, then we're naked (oops) and getting ready for Sam's. Please let UGA/Miss be on at the bar (Yes! It's on ESPN2.). An hour of Gran Turismo2 was nice. Got my best ever, a -21 on Buckhorn, more drivin' and pukin', UGA won by 14 (no cover, no bet, no problem). Home at 10 for nachos and early bed with a Pink Floyd lullaby. Up before 10 am Sunday; here, hello.

Sunday, November 3rd, 2002

Game 7 Sunday continued; yes, we went back to the bar--but not until the game was on. (I flipped and spun my new mattress before I left.) I even sat at the bar, like a true alcoholic. What a game; wish I gave a shit about baseball now. Home shortly after 10 pm, and to sleep. Monday morning, to work at 7 am, but there's NO rain dance and NO free lunch. I was pissed. But I worked well. At home there was a nap waiting for me; good vegetables, snuggle, and out to play bad influence with Brent (he has a computer over there, hmm). Great golf, and home before midnight. Up and to work Tuesday. The headache I started with got bigger as we were sniffing the highlighter pens. Made it through the day, and pocket money, then home for nachos, Gilmore Girls, and to make the Iowa Christmas list (long story). For the record, I stayed in tonight. What was the final tally? HA! I did NOT go out last Tuesday--so it's not 2 weeks in a row of partying--it's just, like, 20 of the last 22 days--NO BIG DEAL; whew, and I was worried that I might have a problem. Wednesday came in like a rare, sober example of good breeding; in other words, BORING as hell. It was a workday with new training on the Loan Transfer (LMSI) program. Payday. Home for, what? Veggies? Pasta? Think, McFly; what the fuck did you eat for dinner last night? Okay; so it was a mystery dinner, and then some great snuggle (I remember that), and then it's a rush to get to Brent's house to check my e-mail, and start the party. And the party went just fine, thank you. We even ended up at Sam's, and you know that's never good. So we were a little late for work on Thursday, but I made up for it with a strong work ethic; believe me? No you don't, you fucking moron. It's all I can do to NOT demand 2wice my current salary--and steal one of those pretty 17 inch HP moniters from the frozen west. Dammit. Right; yeah, so I deny the hangover all day, and stayed late, went for pocket money, then home for serrano pepper clam chowder and 3 days of recorded VHS shit. Rift giggles at me. I didn't even get to the computer until 11 pm, so I may as well have gone out tonight, too. Where do the hours go; where do the years go; how the hell am I almost 40? Thank God for Static Girl. And then it was Friday. I got all 4, 7-letter Scrabble words, 297 points. And the women told me how to make mashed potatos. Veggie dinner, great snuggle, and out. Crash at 1 am, no alarm, and up at 11 am. Picked Barney up to go see Jackass, wow, what a movie. It turns into a party day, complete with all the frustration and disappointment of hanging out with Brent for too long. Then I went to my Sam's for more golf with Al. Home with a bag of cheeseburgers at 8 pm. Choppy sleep. Up for good at 10 am Sunday; no Sunday shift for me. Could this be a Steak Sunday? I feel kind of funny; somewhere between hungover and lucky as hell. Pre-noon Sunday I am saying that I won't be going to the bar today. We'll see. By the way, today is the 20th anniversary of the car wreck I died in; look at me feeling all happy and blessed and shit. Bite me.

Sunday, October 27th, 2002

More from last Sunday...early shopping, talked to Mom, and then we went to the bar. Partied with Al, Steve and Dave. Home at 10 for nachos, and we didn't puke or anything. On time Monday, somehow, and the new insult from my oh-so-mature co-workers is to call somebody "butt slime". Home for veggies, great snuggle, and out to have too much fun. Slept in a little; up at 8, work before 9. Stayed an extra hour again. Pocket money, RTM coupon dinner, laundry, Gilmore Girls, and then Barney calls me out. But I was mature and responsible, no really, and home before midnight. On time Wednesday, Big Montana leftover breakfast and lunch, home for a nap, Cheri pasta, snuggle, and out to party with the "new attitude" Barney. Home before midnight. On time, wow. Good workday; sold my first DSL in 6 months. Pocket money, Scrubs, and out to win the "Little Pink Dress" Golf Tournament. Home before midnight, as if that makes partying 5 nights a week okay. Early to work Friday; great talk about military life. "Mobile Sniper's Den" would be a great band name, but probably not this week. A promise of another rain dance on Monday sounds sweet. Home for quickie house cleaning, veggie machoroni, a nap, great snuggle, and back out for more golf and pinball. I rule Golden Tee and pinball; but am not yet the master of the EA Sports PGA thing. The party cycle just won't end; but I don't actually have to go to work on Saturday, because I'm already signed up for the 5-hour Sunday shift. Right now, literally, UGA is losing to Kentucky and their 300 lb. quarterback. I did write a commentary this week; where the hell is it? Work with me here...
Modern Advertising
Perhaps I should step away from this for awhile; Barney has already called, and he wants to "trash my day"; he's using MY OWN WORDS against me. Jesus. Go Dawgs; sack the fat guy! UGA will win, and be 8-0.
Right, so armed with the attitude of 'hey, I'm going out at 4 pm; I cannot possibly party until midnight', I went out. Bad move. Golf, beer, Dairy Queen, more golf, more beer, you get the idea. Quite a Game 6 of the Series. Norml Ron showed. So we come home at 11:30 to eat yummy nachos, and crash hard. Then I woke up on the couch; huh? But I was up and ready for the big Sunday shift. Kicked major butt, ruled the monitoring session (free lunch Monday). And now we're getting set for Game 7 of the World Series; go Angels. My head hurts. Place your bets on whether I'll go to the bar for, what, the 12th day in a row?

Sunday, October 20th, 2002

Sunday I continued to ignore Static Girl (oops) and it became a Barney party. Watching the Raiders lose with a big Raiders fan is fun. Later I would wind up pinballing at Sam's, sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. Worked Monday, TPG is back running the neighborhood RTM, toaster oven foil dinner, apparently Grandpa Walter died on Sunday--and there are many details about the family and stuff that I never knew, and it's sort of weird, oh well--super snuggletime, I'm broke, but Barney drags me out for golf, beer, and the best game of shuffleboard ever. I did a suicide cruise through a cop checkpoint on the ride home; luckily they had a carload ot teenagers pulled over.
At some point in the past month I was sent this e-mail about dumbass lawsuits. Having recently been in contact with a lawyer, and seeing first-hand how pathetic they are, I decided to redo the e-mail into a file for your reading enjoyment:
Dumbass Lawsuits
On time Tuesday, strange emotions from Cape Girardeau, payday, pocket money, Crooked okra, Del Taco, 3 stores, Gilmore Girls, bed by 11. Early to work Wednesday, hello rain dance, great attitude. Snuggle, and out to take care of Barney and Amy. Too much snooze button, and 30 minutes late on Thursday, training the new cool Gene guy, pocket money, nachos, and I'm out alone for golf and pinball. On time Friday, yawning and slow, I am the good example. Paid insurance, home for killa veggie machoroni, good snuggle, and out to lose on the new golf game. Twice. Back to close down Sam's, and home to not puke. Up at 1 Saturday; UGA is stomping Vandy early. Barney has already called, stay tuned. Out for early golf and shuffleboard, and another 140 million on Junkyard pinball. Home for nachos, watched Fried Green Tomatos with Rift, and ate my Crooked okra. Bed at 11ish. Up to shit at 5:30 am; shit 4 times before 8 am; goood okra. Since I was up, I went ahead and shopped. Came home and cooked beautifully for me and Static Girl. Strung out at 1 pm now.

Sunday, October 13th, 2002

Then Barney begs me to come over and cart him around town on Sunday. He promised I would not be disappointed; he's a lying sack (I should be used to this by now). But I am the ultimate pushover friend. Monday's workday flew by; I went and bought a toaster oven at Fry's. Shopping with Static Girl, Safeway pizza, Marie's avocado dip rules, snuggle, a little heartburn is okay. At 11:30 pm, two little pricks knocked on our door. Grrr. Tuesday morning we're trying the new (this means that it was on sale) Folger's Special Roast; it's not bad, it just needs to be made strong. I wrote the first draft of the 2nd Crooked Sky poem, pocket money, a stop by the Crooked Sky, and home to cook Crooked okra in my new toaster, yum. Out for smog and Barney golf. Home early, up and to work Wednesday:

There are only SO many ways to have a great day at work in telemarketing; you might hear a really cool song (or pair) on the way to work (I heard Tool backed by Monster Magnet); you might make the first sale in your program (I made the first 2; 4 in the first hour, wow); you might read the whole newspaper and get all 4 scrabble words (I did), and you might write (or revise) a really good poem into one of the best ones you've ever written, like Countdown to Misery; and you might pay $5 for what may become a rain dance--to help this drought. Okay; so this is about as good as a day of telelmarketing gets.

Home Wednesday to go sign Rift's insurance papers; dinner at Subway, then snuggle, and out for golf and shuffleboard with Barney. Not a responsible night this was; oops. So we were a little late for work this morning (3 hours), but then it went pretty well. I sold everything. Then it's time for pocket money, and home for more toaster cooking. I want both the new Beck, and the new Peter Gabriel CD's; help. So it's a quiet Thursday night in my underwear; actually the whole apartment is quiet, too. Sigh. Got some good sleep, and early to work Friday. No rain dance, but I stayed in a good mood. A day of subdued sarcasm and comedic comradery. Bought a fuel filter. Made a pretty veggie plate at home, and killa clam chowder. Snuggle, and out to cart Barney around again. Dumped him at 10, and back to Famous Sam's for some singular golf and pinball. Home for nachos; getting excited about college football Saturday with TPG. AM, out to go get steaks and eggs; up to TPG's filthy apartment. We watched UGA beat UT, yay. Laundry, and back home for early party bugs to bite. Norml Ron is at Sam's. I liked the way he prepared Chromie on the table beside the golf game. We're riding, we're golfing; I eventually got a -20 on Kiwi (again). Took him home early, and I came home for more nachos. Early bed, and early rise here on Sunday. Quiet in my underwear again, spinning some Lo-Fidelity All-Stars, then Fig Dish, and "Barrel of a Gun" re-mixes. This was a good week; it had a little bit of everything.

Sunday, October 6th, 2002

Last Sunday, the 29th, I said I felt "blah". What do you do when you feel 'blah'? Housework! So I started cleaning, and I soon felt better. And by the way, although keeping up this webpage IS alot of work, it's much better than dealing with you morons constantly on a one-on-one basis. On the way to work Monday I finally heard the new Michelle Branch/Carlos Santana song, and it's good enough to be #1 for a month; work had the usual payday higher level of intensity; gee imagine. Groceries, haircut, macaroni, snuggle, and out to FAIL the responsible partying experiment. Oh well. I was only 15 minutes late Tuesday, which is impressive, considering my headache. Pocket money, then home for nachos and tv (There's a 13-day, daily "The Shield" marathon on F/X, plus my daily PTI, plus standard viewing). Wednesday I was 10 minutes late, kiss my ass, and I wrote out my 5 Pissy Paragraphs, home for tv, then a nap that became bedtime with no snuggle; lots of sleep. At work early Thursday, a strange day. The Westside pronunciation of the Spanish word "caliente" winds up sounding like a bad Asian pronunciation of the words "killer instinct" (killa intake), and it's actually pretty damn funny (I said it was a strange day). Big news; the Crooked Sky Garden will stay around for one more year, yay, then groceries and home for 'leftover wipeout'. Out for a new golf game, and success at partying responsibly. One game of pinball won 3 (I like those games), then home. On time Friday; the morning paper had no comics section, and we were all pissed. But there was a $2 coupon for a $6 hamburger at Carl's Jr, so I went for it. Another strange day. But we got through it. Heard my favorite song, Time, on the way home. Baked potatos and a veggie plate dinner (to get girlfriend in the mood), snuggle (yay, it worked), and then out to continue killing Barney at the new golf game (he's SO out of his league). Back to Sam's for my Junkyard pinball encounter (I have all 4 high scores; it's going to take 75 million to bounce the lowest one off). I came home with the minute possibility of going to work Saturday morning; naaa. Nachos and tv, up till after 1 am. Girlfriend came and woke me up at 1 pm, or I might have kept sleeping in my delicious bed until dark. So it's a Saturday at the computer with the Blue Dazed + Confused soundtrack, and then the full "Bat out of Hell" Meatloaf treatment. Of course Barney calls, and wants me to come take care of him again. So I did. He finally beats me at the new golf, woo. After consuming everything with him, I head back to Sam's to get a -18 on Golden Tee, and 141 million on Junkyard pinball. Home at 11 pm for triple jalapeno nachos, and excellent sleep. Quiet Sunday for now...

Sunday, September 29th, 2002

Monday was a boring workday. Home for a nap, snuggle, and to fail miserably at making potato skins. So I went out, Barney's there, met Ron, and played 'parking lot smog'. Tuesday I was 20 minutes late, seat shuffle, stayed 20 minutes late, pocket money, Del Taco dinner, groceries, then home for The Shield pilot and Gilmore Girls premier. Out to huff and puff with Barney. Wednesday I was 5 minutes late; groggy but alive. Home at 2 to make salad, fry potatos, and watch the West Wing premier. Wednesday afternoon I finally got my newest rant typed out:

Just in case there's a dumbass mother out there who I haven't pissed off yet

because I don't want to be remembered for being half-assed about thinking women are completely full of shit, okay? Thursday it gets fuzzy again. Work, pocket money, and then home. The toilets are broken. Barney convinces me to go out; bad. Ron's there again; bad. Beer, beer, and beer; bad. Home to sleepwalk and mark territory in the hall; bad. There's no work Friday--sore throat. Maintenance makes 3 trips to try to fix the water; almost. Went and bought my new bed with TPG from Bob at Kaeleen's. Set it up, and to Wal-Mart for a mattress pad. Then up to TPG's for steak, laundry, and the Scrubs premier (again); waiting to get cussed out by Static Girl. She was wonderful, actually. Snuggle on the new set-up, and then out to rule pinball. New attitude, and only 2 beers. Home for nachos, and wonderful sleep on the Serta Monitor 266 bed that is my new horizontal napping domain. Saturday the courtyard is flooded to fix the water problem (lakefront); one more maintenance trip to fix it (hopefully). And Barney has already called at 1:30 pm, trying to get me to go out and spend my last $7. Shit. So Saturday gets trashed at Sam's. Home at 7 pm to channel surf aimlessly.

There's all these people on the news protesting; "no globalization", "no war in Iraq", "no World Bank"; I don't get it. But I guess it's refreshing to see all these people on the news carrying signs and bitching about things they have no control over. Wouldn't it be funny if people in the government were to start protesting; "no crack babies", "no illegal immigrants", "no welfare families", and bitching about things they have no control over? That'd be a fun protest. But you don't see government people wasting their time with that bullshit, do you? I'm just asking.

So I got some more great sleep Saturday night. Early chili with jalapenos; and I'm feeling a little blah. Maintaining a website is alot of damn work.

Sunday, September 22nd, 2002

Sunday night I got zero sleep; laid in bed for over 4 hours wondering what was wrong. Monday was the worst back pain ever, I cringed at everything. But it was payday, so I got gas, paid insurance, and then took a nap. Felt a bit better, ate veggies, played online, and lost another long e-mail. Tuesday morning still had pain, but not as much; heard Suite Madam Blue and Enjoy the Silence on the way to work (sweet). Trained the new 21 yr.old mother of 2, she was a real winner; at 6:15 am she wanted to know when she could take a break, and she whined all day. I still sold really well. Pocket money, and we went bed shopping. Beds are total bullshit and very expensive; it looks like I'll be getting a "scratch and dent" mattress from mattress liquidators. Barney convinced me to go out and get 3 awesome golf scores, as well as 100 and 168 million on Junkyard pinball. Wed.s I was 15 minutes late, and still hurting, but a little less. The mom is gone, and I'm training this new cool black guy Eric. 10 minutes before the day was over I was called into the office, reviewed, and given a raise. Wow. Home for another sneak attack nap, hash browns, and more sleep. Thursday I almost wasn't hurting anymore, 10 minutes late (Did I mention that I never AGREED to start going to work at 6am--they just told us to?), but I got going. Worked with Eric some more, and talked alot of (shit) sports. More pocket money, and a trip back to look at mattresses. Never stopping, it's carnivore dinner with TPG, laundry, and e-mail. I could be into my last 2 nights on that mattress of misery. Friday I'm early for work; we're all dressed up for the client who's coming. Lousy sales day for all; a Big Mac lunch, and then I'm training the wheelchair-bound but extremely sharp Christine on loan management. It was fun talking to her. Home to make veggie machoroni, and take a short nap. Snuggled with an apathetic girlfriend, and then I'm out to whip Barney at golf. Home for nachos and Gran Turismo2, then sleep with the power going off. Up at 11 am Saturday to set 8 different clocks. My back no longer is suffering; it makes me wonder...Yes, it does appear that my major back pain starting on Monday may have been more of a singular experience rather than a situational culmination (what?). Like, okay dude; my bed is messed up AND my back is messed up, too. Deal with it, piss boy, nobody said it was going to be all fun and comfortable with relaxing sleep. Right. So then Barney told me about this Kaeline furniture store up by us--so we went to check it out. This looks to be the best deal yet. And then it was time to clear out some resin and lose some golf. So? I wind up at home eating nachos early, and early bed, too. Up Sunday for the Sunday shift, and now I'm at home with some "Wish" Cure music; opting for Dew instead of more coffee.

Sunday, September 15th, 2002

Monday I'm at work early, and training a new guy. It's funny how after 20 months of work that I'm still just a grunt--but I train new people. And I've asked to be promoted, and I'm due for another raise, and, well, never mind. Tuesday I worked, pocket money, wound up out, and then up till 3 am playing Gran Turismo2. Wednesday was 9/11, we were off, and I celebrated by playing Gran Turismo2 and threatening the phone company (Wouldn't it be cool to have digital cable, digital phone, and cable internet for free?). There was a moment of tension between me and Static Girl, like 3 seconds worth, and that's the longest fight we've had all year (Is YOUR relationship this good?). I didn't sleep well Wednesday night, but it was okay, because on Thursday at work I wrote the 7-verse poetic masterpiece:

Symbolic Suffering--
(The Crooked Sky Garden Tribute)

and I was pretty stoked. After pocket money, and getting my slow leak of a tire plugged, I came home to hug my awesome girlfriend, eat nachos, and go to bed by 8 pm. Friday I'm at work early, starving, and just trying not to start screaming. But I made it through, and I have just over $30 to last until Monday. The Queen and I got some groceries, snuggled, and then I went to golf and pinball. Home for late nachos, cookies, and Nick Nolte-ish sleep. Up at noon, thanks to my better half, and Georgia is playing S. Carolina on channel 5; wow. TPG is off at 5, and a free man this evening; the possibilities are limited only to funding...It became a Del Taco feast, leading to a change jar cash-in for 2 pitchers and pinball. 170 million, with TPG as my witness, is my second highest score. Home for more Gran Turismo2 and a sandwich. Yummy sleep wakes up to strong coffee yet again. Football and the final IRL race of the year beckon (Helio or Hornish?).

The personal news for the week ending September 8th, 2002 was lost in a freak cut-and-paste catastrophe. I feel bad about depriving my fans the trials of another trivial week involving no poetry, no commentary, and no job change. I sit here now and try to remember if anything of mention occured, and I draw the typical short-term memory blank.
WAIT! Static Girl says that it is saved after all!

Sunday, September 8th, 2002

Tuesday was a big day. Both ears were hurting as we went to work. Went to meet my new 34 yr old Dr. Syms at 10:30 am. He's cool; gave my ear drops, a prescript for this new antibiotic, and the number of a facial reconstruction doctor who might be able to fix my nose. And Dr. Syms explained the Q-Tip hoax to me. Got my drugs and scared some kids at Walgreens; home to veg in front of the tv. Static Girl still thinks Gilmore Girls is a dumb girl show, but she watched it with me. Bed before 9. Wed.s we're up and refreshed. By 9 am my left ear was popping, yay. Open, close; open, close; I LOVE my X-Files ears. I haven't always loved them, but I sure missed them during the month they were gone. I'm definitely going to have to go drinking tonight. Home for phone calls, bad crab meat, and out to rule pinball--and I mean RULE. Good golf, too. A little late for work Thursday, 3 hours, and for my punishment that sat this loud feminist bitch next to me. If I am SO sexist, SO mean, and SO evil, then why do feminist cunts continue to talk to me (I mean, why don't they go cook something, or clean something?). Pocket money, Bubba burgers, and a quiet night at home with no smoke alarm (It's broken. No it's not. It's BROKEN. NO it's NOT.). Friday we're up early, work has computer problems; feminist comes back and CHOOSES to sit next to me (she's just a fly in my web now). I amuse her forged superiority; feminists are so cute. The day drags like a bad B-movie. At home it's baked potatos and fake meat to keep the Queen happy. Later it becomes a pinball and golf event sponsored by Michelob Light. At home, after nachos, Mr. Sleepwalker peed in rift's toilet (Not the bathtub?), and then passed out on the warped tour (this could begin to explain the back pain). Up at 10 am to go see the "Signs" movie; a decent movie until the final plot point--which was even dumber than that bullshit "Unbreakable" movie--which was made by the same Shaymalan freak (oh he's SO talented; not). "Excuse me, waiter, but I think there's a dead alien in my water." Please. And my back is killing me. I will be going up to TPG's house for some kind of carnivoration later; and yes, I'm just making up words now. Chuck steak, 4 lbs. of it, and lots of Code Red. Later the pinball bugs would bite, and Tiny showed up for golf and pinball. T is working on a cool new private plane in New Mexico, and has all his expenses paid (like the 5 litre Mustang he's driving). Closed down Sam's. Home for Gran Turismo, almonds, and the Breaking News pilot. Power goes off, and Static Girl wakes me up at 1 pm Sunday. Football! Ever since Static Girl said she didn't like Phoenix on Thursday (no trees, no rain, etc.) we have had 3 days of rain and gloom; puddles and branches everywhere.

Okay; so I forgot about Dr. Syms, the Q-Tip hoax, getting my ears back, the feminist bitch, Bubba burgers, sleepwalking for the 4th time, the Signs movie, golf with Tiny, and 3 days of rain. I have NO memory; none, zero, nada; it's a wonder I remember to wipe my own ass--most of the time. Thank God for my computer savvy and low-maintenance girlfriend; honestly I don't know where I would be without her.

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