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Thursday, July 08, 2004
Sorry
That apology goes out to my many devoted fans. I don't even know where to begin, so I'm going to jump around with my thoughts, mainly because my mind is about as focused as a cross-eyed cat. The first thought that pops into my head is regarding my attempts to see No Doubt in concert. Several months back, I bought 4 tickets to see No Doubt with 3 friends (makes sense, right?). They were playing with Blink 182 in San Bernaghetto at the Hyundai Pavillion. And while we left later than I had originally wanted (not bitter), we still left with plenty of time to see both bands - or so we thought. The drive there wound up taking us an excruciating 4 1/2 hours - with 8 miles of the trip comprising the last 3 hours. Ugh. We missed the entire fucking concert. Was I venomous? TOTALLY. Were my friends providing any solace? Not a fucking ounce. I stewed all the way home (a mere hour drive). However, the next day I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Pavillion was not only offering refunds, but they were also offering complimentary tickets to Incubus. So, in the end, I sorta lucked out. But, I missed No Doubt, you say. Au contraire! I wound up getting tickets to their last-minute, secret-ninja show at Universal Amphitheatre...a much more pleasant and manageable drive. Needless to say, I was a happy camper.
Next topic, the art of DAD.
That apology goes out to my many devoted fans. I don't even know where to begin, so I'm going to jump around with my thoughts, mainly because my mind is about as focused as a cross-eyed cat. The first thought that pops into my head is regarding my attempts to see No Doubt in concert. Several months back, I bought 4 tickets to see No Doubt with 3 friends (makes sense, right?). They were playing with Blink 182 in San Bernaghetto at the Hyundai Pavillion. And while we left later than I had originally wanted (not bitter), we still left with plenty of time to see both bands - or so we thought. The drive there wound up taking us an excruciating 4 1/2 hours - with 8 miles of the trip comprising the last 3 hours. Ugh. We missed the entire fucking concert. Was I venomous? TOTALLY. Were my friends providing any solace? Not a fucking ounce. I stewed all the way home (a mere hour drive). However, the next day I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Pavillion was not only offering refunds, but they were also offering complimentary tickets to Incubus. So, in the end, I sorta lucked out. But, I missed No Doubt, you say. Au contraire! I wound up getting tickets to their last-minute, secret-ninja show at Universal Amphitheatre...a much more pleasant and manageable drive. Needless to say, I was a happy camper.
Next topic, the art of DAD.
Friday, April 30, 2004
Floki
Have you ever had one of those weekends where the only calories you consume seem to come from alcohol? Well, that's what this particular weekend turned into...one long binge.
I was homeless. Literally. I had to move out of my apartment by noon on Saturday. Unfortunately, the townhouse we were moving into wasn't going to be ready for another two weeks. So I packed up my 82 Camaro (to the gills) and I drove over to my Poods's place. Of course, in my haste, I had left the Febreeze bottle on top of my car, and had some drunk frat boy yell out to me as I cruised down the street. Yeah, I'm an ass. I got to my Poods' place around 12:30. It was hotter than hell that day, and everyone was out of town. Our friend, Bertie, was working til later that afternoon, and Poods was actually going to drive to OU later that evening. But in the meantime, we had some drinking to do. The football game was starting soon, so we walked up to the Bear and bought a few cases of beer, then called for some Papa John's to be delivered. By the time Bertie got there, I think we had drank a case. Then Bertie joined us. Here's where the order of events get a little hazy...
We drank, we went to a bar, our friend Chicken Head (CH) came over (with a few more cases in hand), we drank some more, we played Beyond Balderdash, we drank some more, we sat out on the patio and drank some more, we ate Chips made with that Olestra shit, we drank more, Poods drove to OU (not sure WHEN that happened, exactly, but I do know she drove there and managed to drive back in time for all of the above activities...this is really the reason I think she's a goddess, because she appeared to be in two places at once - or maybe it was just my double vision), we woke up the next morning and recited to rules of Floki Rafna (it's the day the marshmallow was invented, and thus has it's own holiday dedicated to it), then we went to Bob Evans.
So, between the pizza and Bob Evans, the only nutrients we had came from Miller and Bud Light, and then those Olestra chips...and everyone knows that those give you the shits, so it doesn't really count anyway. Even with all that craziness, it was the BEST Floki Rafna celebration EVER!
SC Rules!
Have you ever had one of those weekends where the only calories you consume seem to come from alcohol? Well, that's what this particular weekend turned into...one long binge.
I was homeless. Literally. I had to move out of my apartment by noon on Saturday. Unfortunately, the townhouse we were moving into wasn't going to be ready for another two weeks. So I packed up my 82 Camaro (to the gills) and I drove over to my Poods's place. Of course, in my haste, I had left the Febreeze bottle on top of my car, and had some drunk frat boy yell out to me as I cruised down the street. Yeah, I'm an ass. I got to my Poods' place around 12:30. It was hotter than hell that day, and everyone was out of town. Our friend, Bertie, was working til later that afternoon, and Poods was actually going to drive to OU later that evening. But in the meantime, we had some drinking to do. The football game was starting soon, so we walked up to the Bear and bought a few cases of beer, then called for some Papa John's to be delivered. By the time Bertie got there, I think we had drank a case. Then Bertie joined us. Here's where the order of events get a little hazy...
We drank, we went to a bar, our friend Chicken Head (CH) came over (with a few more cases in hand), we drank some more, we played Beyond Balderdash, we drank some more, we sat out on the patio and drank some more, we ate Chips made with that Olestra shit, we drank more, Poods drove to OU (not sure WHEN that happened, exactly, but I do know she drove there and managed to drive back in time for all of the above activities...this is really the reason I think she's a goddess, because she appeared to be in two places at once - or maybe it was just my double vision), we woke up the next morning and recited to rules of Floki Rafna (it's the day the marshmallow was invented, and thus has it's own holiday dedicated to it), then we went to Bob Evans.
So, between the pizza and Bob Evans, the only nutrients we had came from Miller and Bud Light, and then those Olestra chips...and everyone knows that those give you the shits, so it doesn't really count anyway. Even with all that craziness, it was the BEST Floki Rafna celebration EVER!
SC Rules!
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Bezoar
Lemme tell you what a true friend my Poods is. One lovely evening, we were all partying over at a friend's place. His place was small, but it had a nice porch on the second floor overlooking the main street near campus. It was a prime location - you could people watch and stumble to and from the bars. There were two problems with this particular evening. First of all, I had really bad cramps - what we called a "bezoar"*. And secondly, our friend's bathroom had no door. (I'm sure you can see how this could be an issue).
Anyhow, I wasn't feeling great, and wasn't much for partying, and my Poods noticed. She asked what was wrong, and I told her I had a bezoar. She asked if I had tried farting. I hadn't, so she said,"Let's go outside and try." We stood out on the porch about 10 feet apart, overlooking the people on the street. We sat there and talked for a few minutes, and then silence fall upon us. My Poods broke the silence. "Anything?" she asked. "Nope, not yet", I replied. "Keep trying!" and so we sat out there a bit longer while I tried to squeeze out a fart.
I wound up driving home and evacuating the bezoar. But the important thing to take from this story is the fact that my Poods was MORE than willing to stand with me out in the cold while I tried to force a fart out! How many of your friends would be game for that???
* Just to clarify the whole bezoar thing. A bezoar is a gallstone in the stomach of a hedgehog. Or at least, that's what it is in our minds. Thus, it became a synonym for gas, stomach trouble, etc.
Lemme tell you what a true friend my Poods is. One lovely evening, we were all partying over at a friend's place. His place was small, but it had a nice porch on the second floor overlooking the main street near campus. It was a prime location - you could people watch and stumble to and from the bars. There were two problems with this particular evening. First of all, I had really bad cramps - what we called a "bezoar"*. And secondly, our friend's bathroom had no door. (I'm sure you can see how this could be an issue).
Anyhow, I wasn't feeling great, and wasn't much for partying, and my Poods noticed. She asked what was wrong, and I told her I had a bezoar. She asked if I had tried farting. I hadn't, so she said,"Let's go outside and try." We stood out on the porch about 10 feet apart, overlooking the people on the street. We sat there and talked for a few minutes, and then silence fall upon us. My Poods broke the silence. "Anything?" she asked. "Nope, not yet", I replied. "Keep trying!" and so we sat out there a bit longer while I tried to squeeze out a fart.
I wound up driving home and evacuating the bezoar. But the important thing to take from this story is the fact that my Poods was MORE than willing to stand with me out in the cold while I tried to force a fart out! How many of your friends would be game for that???
* Just to clarify the whole bezoar thing. A bezoar is a gallstone in the stomach of a hedgehog. Or at least, that's what it is in our minds. Thus, it became a synonym for gas, stomach trouble, etc.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Binty
We were supposed to meet in Toronto - a rendez-vous, of sorts. From there, we were jetsetting to Munich, before driving to Switzerland. It was to be an all-star vacation. Me and my Poods. But it was in Toronto that the mayhem began...
First of all, my Poods somehow was herded off by the Canadien airport nazis, and we missed our meeting point. So while she was whisked off to another terminal, I waited dutifully for her arrival. While exiting the shuttle bus, my Poods gashed the back of her foot, and started bleeding all over everything. So while I waited for her to deboard the plane (or so I thought), she was waiting (and bleeding) in the departure terminal. Time was running out on us, so I decided that I should just go to the departure terminal. If nothing else, at least I would make it to Europe. But, sure as shit, she was waiting for me when I got there...
That was the first time we had seen each other in months, and so we took full advantage of the flight over there - Mad Libs, making fun of others (duh!), and discussing all the fun that we were going to have in Europe. Needless to say, I'm going to sum up the Europe trip with some key terms...
Erdinger
The shelf
DADing
Mashed Potatoes
Paprika Chips
Malteasers
Mierta (sp?)
Binty
Gellatto
Schutz
Nail Game
Bashing Your Head with a Rock
Oh, the memories...
We were supposed to meet in Toronto - a rendez-vous, of sorts. From there, we were jetsetting to Munich, before driving to Switzerland. It was to be an all-star vacation. Me and my Poods. But it was in Toronto that the mayhem began...
First of all, my Poods somehow was herded off by the Canadien airport nazis, and we missed our meeting point. So while she was whisked off to another terminal, I waited dutifully for her arrival. While exiting the shuttle bus, my Poods gashed the back of her foot, and started bleeding all over everything. So while I waited for her to deboard the plane (or so I thought), she was waiting (and bleeding) in the departure terminal. Time was running out on us, so I decided that I should just go to the departure terminal. If nothing else, at least I would make it to Europe. But, sure as shit, she was waiting for me when I got there...
That was the first time we had seen each other in months, and so we took full advantage of the flight over there - Mad Libs, making fun of others (duh!), and discussing all the fun that we were going to have in Europe. Needless to say, I'm going to sum up the Europe trip with some key terms...
Erdinger
The shelf
DADing
Mashed Potatoes
Paprika Chips
Malteasers
Mierta (sp?)
Binty
Gellatto
Schutz
Nail Game
Bashing Your Head with a Rock
Oh, the memories...
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Poods
So my BFF-OH, Poods, just told me that she is obsessed with the new Hanson song. I thought Hanson was dead. Or maybe that was just a dream I had. In any case, apparently they've completely gone through puberty, and blessed us with another memorable song. For fuck's sake...
Lemme give you a lil background on my Poods. First and foremost, she misses me so much, I think she cries at night. The first time I met her, she thought I was an axe-wielding psychopath. Then she realized that I didn't have an axe, I was just psycho. So, she hopped into the "blue bomber" (my car) and we sped two blocks to her brother's house where we would drink, laugh, and form an unbreakable bond...
Thus, in honor of my Poods, I'm going to be recounting some memorable moments through our history. She's fucking hilarious (like me), she's fucking gorgeous (like me), and all in all, she's just better than most (like me). You'll soon see why we get along...
So my BFF-OH, Poods, just told me that she is obsessed with the new Hanson song. I thought Hanson was dead. Or maybe that was just a dream I had. In any case, apparently they've completely gone through puberty, and blessed us with another memorable song. For fuck's sake...
Lemme give you a lil background on my Poods. First and foremost, she misses me so much, I think she cries at night. The first time I met her, she thought I was an axe-wielding psychopath. Then she realized that I didn't have an axe, I was just psycho. So, she hopped into the "blue bomber" (my car) and we sped two blocks to her brother's house where we would drink, laugh, and form an unbreakable bond...
Thus, in honor of my Poods, I'm going to be recounting some memorable moments through our history. She's fucking hilarious (like me), she's fucking gorgeous (like me), and all in all, she's just better than most (like me). You'll soon see why we get along...
Monday, April 26, 2004
Burnt
So, I got burnt. Fried, if you will. Yes, I'm talking about a sunburn. And yes, I'm talking about being just so over something, that you'd rather watch a Ricki Lake marathon (or maybe watch Ricki Lake run a marathon...) than do that certain thing. As I'm sitting here writing this, I'm so F-ing apathetic, that I figure that this will probably be the lamest load of crap ever to hit the computer screen. But do you think I care? Not a bit...
School, stress, work, stress, friends, stress, enemies, stress, money, stress, social life, stress...it's such a fun balance as of late. Just when I think I've got things under control and running smoothly, something else pops up to throw my seemingly perfect world into total disarray. But if there's one thing that my BFF "the bry" has taught me, it's that sometimes, you just gotta roll with the punches. Or wait, did JoDee teach me that? Maybe it was a joint effort by the two of them, but you get the idea. Deal with it. That's what I'm trying to do - not take everything so seriously, and maybe not expect too much. Do what I can with what is before me, and not stress out about those things that are out of my control. Try to find the harmonious blend of productivity, pleasure and restoration (anyone puking yet?). With all of this swirling around in my feeble little mind, it was time to party!
And so last weekend, when we had our school banquet, I realized it was time for a cathartic release...Me and the T-ster pre-partied it up, got there feelin real good, and basically impressed everyone with our stunning good looks and award-winning personalities. "Downtown", who had been quite nervous about having to speak infront of everyone, took to the microphone like a baby to a teet. We were off and running...
However, that weekend was also my weekend to work on my tan for the summer. But with my pasty-ass, virgin skin having little exposure to the sun, it apparently didn't take long to bake to a glowing red. Needless to say, it is 9 days later, and I am still peeling.
The moral of the story is, always wear your fucking sunscreen.
So, I got burnt. Fried, if you will. Yes, I'm talking about a sunburn. And yes, I'm talking about being just so over something, that you'd rather watch a Ricki Lake marathon (or maybe watch Ricki Lake run a marathon...) than do that certain thing. As I'm sitting here writing this, I'm so F-ing apathetic, that I figure that this will probably be the lamest load of crap ever to hit the computer screen. But do you think I care? Not a bit...
School, stress, work, stress, friends, stress, enemies, stress, money, stress, social life, stress...it's such a fun balance as of late. Just when I think I've got things under control and running smoothly, something else pops up to throw my seemingly perfect world into total disarray. But if there's one thing that my BFF "the bry" has taught me, it's that sometimes, you just gotta roll with the punches. Or wait, did JoDee teach me that? Maybe it was a joint effort by the two of them, but you get the idea. Deal with it. That's what I'm trying to do - not take everything so seriously, and maybe not expect too much. Do what I can with what is before me, and not stress out about those things that are out of my control. Try to find the harmonious blend of productivity, pleasure and restoration (anyone puking yet?). With all of this swirling around in my feeble little mind, it was time to party!
And so last weekend, when we had our school banquet, I realized it was time for a cathartic release...Me and the T-ster pre-partied it up, got there feelin real good, and basically impressed everyone with our stunning good looks and award-winning personalities. "Downtown", who had been quite nervous about having to speak infront of everyone, took to the microphone like a baby to a teet. We were off and running...
However, that weekend was also my weekend to work on my tan for the summer. But with my pasty-ass, virgin skin having little exposure to the sun, it apparently didn't take long to bake to a glowing red. Needless to say, it is 9 days later, and I am still peeling.
The moral of the story is, always wear your fucking sunscreen.
Monday, April 19, 2004
A Case of the Mondays
Mondays suck, let's admit it. Unless you're some perky Mormon missionary, you probably dread them as much as I do. The movie "Office Space" capitalized on this disdain for Mondays. But every so often, a Monday will turn out to be quite an enjoyable experience. Today, however, was NOT enjoyable...
So, not only did I wake my ass up early to drive to class after having written a paper the night before, but I had to endure what was quite possibly the most cracked out lecture I've been a witness to. Our guests were both consumers and practitioners of some Eastern philosophical art therapy clinic. As they rattled on about the history of their practice, and its founder, I found myself getting gassy. Yes, the lecture induced gas. After the ridiculous history of planting vegetables and flowers in your own garden, a volunteer was selected to come to the front and choose from a variety of "organic" flowers grown in the clinic's own garden (precious). Once the flowers were selected, they would be arranged poetically (barf).
The volunteer went to the front of the class and sifted through the basket of flowers while the lecture narrated what she was doing..."She's now examining the flowers from all angles, taking in their beauty, absorbing their energy, and selecting according to the positive powers that they release." Or maybe she was just picking the prettiest, I dunno! She chose two flowers, which were then stuff in a bottle with some water, and placed on the table. Here's where I almost shit myself - the class applauded. Two fucking flowers in a bottle of water are NOT worthy of applause, people!
Can you tell that I'm bitter I woke up this Monday morning for this?
*Read the CKQ blog for notes from this day*
Mondays suck, let's admit it. Unless you're some perky Mormon missionary, you probably dread them as much as I do. The movie "Office Space" capitalized on this disdain for Mondays. But every so often, a Monday will turn out to be quite an enjoyable experience. Today, however, was NOT enjoyable...
So, not only did I wake my ass up early to drive to class after having written a paper the night before, but I had to endure what was quite possibly the most cracked out lecture I've been a witness to. Our guests were both consumers and practitioners of some Eastern philosophical art therapy clinic. As they rattled on about the history of their practice, and its founder, I found myself getting gassy. Yes, the lecture induced gas. After the ridiculous history of planting vegetables and flowers in your own garden, a volunteer was selected to come to the front and choose from a variety of "organic" flowers grown in the clinic's own garden (precious). Once the flowers were selected, they would be arranged poetically (barf).
The volunteer went to the front of the class and sifted through the basket of flowers while the lecture narrated what she was doing..."She's now examining the flowers from all angles, taking in their beauty, absorbing their energy, and selecting according to the positive powers that they release." Or maybe she was just picking the prettiest, I dunno! She chose two flowers, which were then stuff in a bottle with some water, and placed on the table. Here's where I almost shit myself - the class applauded. Two fucking flowers in a bottle of water are NOT worthy of applause, people!
Can you tell that I'm bitter I woke up this Monday morning for this?
*Read the CKQ blog for notes from this day*
