Saturday, May 31, 2008

The Dead Will Walk The Earth...

 I was doing my usual walk on Lonsdale this morning when I passed this dude who's back of his black t-shirt read, (does that sound right?) "When there's no more room in hell the dead will walk the earth." As I passed him I commented, "Nice t-shirt." To which he replied, "Thanks, man." Pierced lip, long black hair and soul patch... dude. I wasn't sure where the saying was from so I came home and gaver the googler and here are the results... 






        Who knew?

Friday, May 30, 2008

Certainly...

    I apologize in advance for some of my film making techniques but it's the best I could manage with the camera on my Mac... that and I'm obviously not a film maker... yet...

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Gloucestershire UK Cheese Rolling...

     Proving that human beings will go to any length for a laugh or to show how retarded we are, here's a video of the 2008 Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling this past May bank holiday. Dating back to at least the 1800's, the Cooper's Hill Cheese Rolling and Wake is an annual event in which fearless (or stupid) competitors chase an 8lb wheel of Double Gloucestershire cheese down an insanely steep hill. Unconscious after crossing the finish line, Brockworth native Chris Anderson raced to victory once again but had to be taken off the field (if that's what you call it) by St John Ambulance. Apparently he was fine and a buddy brought him the winning block of cheese...

 

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

I Couldn't Make This Up...

      I had to meet a lady this morning to help her pick a colour. She wants to paint the wood panelling in this room, they're trying to sell the house and the realtor thought a coat of paint would brighten it up. By the looks of this picture it doesn't really need it...




     It seemed kind of a shame because it's beautiful panelling but it is throughout the house and she only wanted it painted in this particular room (I immediately thought whoever buys the place will want the paint removed). The ethics of painting wood panelling, however, is not the point of this blog... it is that just when I thought I'd heard almost everything from a customer I get blindsided with another classic. She wanted some kind of an off-white to match the laminate on the desk. I didn't have a colour fan with me because I always lend them out and never seem to get them back so I sent her down to the paint store to pick up a few swatches (or chips if you will). Off-whites are usually a little more difficult to choose because the shades are so subtle but she returned with nine chips and spread them out on the desk.
       We studied the swatches and chatted briefly about the merits of this one or that one. I gave her my initial choice to which she replied, "Oh, it's just so hard, I wish it was a little boner"..... I said, "Exsqueeze me ??!!? She had her back to me at the time and it was a good thing because I almost spit my coffee all over the place. I thought, "You must know what you just said." Anyhoo, I know she meant she wanted it a little more "bone white"... At least I have another story  to add to my repertoire...



     Got 'er primed out, eh...

     Couple of quick things while they're fresh in my mind because I always forget these things and they're too short for a blog... or maybe not depending on your point of view...

- My bumper sticker says Honk If You're A Knob (my invention). I saw a young woman today driving a clunker (shit-mobile if you will). She had a bright yellow bumper sticker that read, Honk If Any Parts Fall Off... pretty clever.

- I was on a patio on the weekend when I overheard a young woman talking with a friend on her cell phone. They were discussing plans for the evening when she casually asked, "How are you guys doing booze-wise?" Booze-wise? I've heard a lot of things but they don't usually involve booze and wise in the same sentence (although after a couple of drinks I occasionally feel I have the answer). I mentioned it to her and we had a good laugh... she didn't even know she said it and it turns out she's a cocktail waitress... I was curious if she ever asked any of her customers if they were OK booze-wise, to which she replied, "I'm not sure."

- And finally, two words ladies... Jog Bra. Somebody could lose an eye...


Pork And Beans...

   Love this new Weezer song... clever idea for the video, using YouTube celebrities...

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

New Boots And Sisters Of Mercy...


   Classic...

Kaitlin's Grad Photo Op...

 My niece had her grad dinner and party this past weekend and I was invited out to the farm in Aldergrove take some photos...


    I was late... six car pile up just as I got on the highway...

   There's a deer in there somewhere... where's Waldo...


      Kaitlin and her date...

      Uncle Sudsy...

        Sis with the celebrities...

      Sis's foot... Shoe Queen 61...


     That's my other niece Karen in the middle. I forgot the name of Kaitlins friend but when she got there my Mom nudges me and says, "You better get a picture of that blonde..."






   Brother in law...



     A dewey meadow...

Monday, May 26, 2008

I've Got One Hand In My Pocket And The Other Hand's In My Other Pocket...


      When I was a teen the trick to get out of the house to go drinking was to tell my parents I was going to see a movie (it's amazing how many movies I didn't "see"). This one particular night our gang had been invited to a party near the Lougheed Mall. I didn't know the people having the party, they must have been friends of friends, but they got to know me pretty quick as the guest you don't want to invite back. There were a couple of bottles of Bacardi with the Coke mixed right in and I was swilling out of these like a man (well boy actually) on a mission. After getting completely smashed I think I may have stepped outside for some air or maybe we were heading to Denny's for some fries and gravy, I really don't remember which. I do recall getting separated from my posse and almost getting my head taken off by the side view mirror of a passing black Dodge van (I think I remember that because I wanted one at the time, with those bubble windows near the back) trying to cross the street at the corner of Austin and North Rd. I was literally right out of control, bordering on helpless. I stumbled into Denny's looking for my mates but they were nowhere to be found (considering the condition I was in the events of this evening are remarkably clear) so I headed out to try to find the party again.
       This area is densely populated with apartments and they all looked the same to me so I just started pushing some buzzers on buildings that I thought looked familiar to absolutely no avail. I was totally lost and by now desperate. Suddenly out of nowhere my buddies (if I could call them that) showed up and in my drunken stupor started thanking them profusely for coming to find me when one of them said,"We weren't even looking for you." Ouch... it's nice to know your friends have your back but in the shape I was in I can hardly blame them.
      As we are making our way back to the party (I think I was carrying a half dozen albums under my arm) I was walking with my hands in my pockets. We had to step over one of those concrete barrier things that are about two feet high and I caught my right foot on it. Result? A perfect face plant onto my left cheekbone, hands still in pockets. I don't really think I felt a thing (gee, I wonder why?). When we arrived back to the party I was checking the damage out in the mirror, trying to wipe the wound off so my parents wouldn't see it when I proceeded to get sick all over the bathroom. I tried cleaning it up as best I could but I was useless and we were out of there.
       I didn't know it at the time but when I paid my fair for the bus ride home I had dropped my house key in there as well (Dad never got mad at me for much but for some reason if I lost my house key or left the door unlocked he was furious). I get to the front door and I can't find my key anywhere. I must have been in pretty bad shape because by buddy Ian (he had my back after all) had walked me up to the door. Our place was on the ground floor so he went around back to see if he could get in through a window. I had these five louvres in my bedroom window and if you removed them you could crawl through the opening. I remember standing there staring at the front door just hoping he didn't wake my folks up. The door opened up, Ian let me in and I stumbled up to the sweet comfort of my room. To this day I have no idea how Ian took those louvres out and let me in without waking my parents, they always woke up... it must be some sort of drinking miracle.
     As was the custom on Saturday mornings, Mom would come in vacuuming at 7:00 AM or earlier (I think she loved doing that). While she was vacuuming I popped my head up from under the covers and took a look (eskimo peeping tom... Tom Tookaluk) at my mug in the mirror on top of the dresser. What a mess. Teary black eye, swollen shut, scraped and bloody... look away, I'm hideous. Mom takes one look at me and says, "What have you done?.... Go downstairs and show your father." Sitting in his chair, Dad takes one look at me and I realize I've got to come up with a good answer and quick. I thought it was pretty clever when I said, "After the movie I was running for the bus so I could make it home on time when I tripped on the curb and fell." To which Dad immediately replied, " Sure... you were probably walking drunk with your hands in your pockets and fell on your head." I couldn't believe it. How could he know? Is he psychic? I think it was that moment I knew that Dad was way smarter than I had given him credit for. I stuck by my story but I still can't get over that line, "Sure, you were probably walking drunk with your hands in your pockets..."

Boogie Man...

A kids show like only Mr. Zombie can put on...sleep tight kiddies...

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Perfume...

    We all know how effective scent is in triggering memories (and nightmares). I realized how appropriate these fragrances were for the relationships I was in...these were the perfumes they wore (I couldn't make this up)...

       Opium and cigarette smoke will always smell like true love to me.... and getting my naive, trusting heart hacky- sacked all over town...



     I could have used some to get through the breakup, hell not just the break up, most of the relationship... aah, young, first love.

 
    This was my first May/December, totally infatuated, love affair and my first "younger woman" (I was 29, she was 19). Soon found out that a 19 year old "woman" can be...

    Also my first experience with a half crazed, stalker, wait outside her house 'til 7:00 AM, try to run you off the road ex-boyfriend... after dating her I knew why.


   The only woman I ever lived with... (no wait I just remembered I lived with Opium for six months)... two and a half whole tears. (you wouldn't believe how many times I type tears instead of years and vice versa, must be some connection... or maybe the "T" is just really close to the "Y"). My heart was never there but I didn't know what else to do... out of guilt (mine) she moved in with me because I had smashed her car up (another blog) and my place way closer to her work than where she was living... good idea, one of many. Couldn't move forward and couldn't see any way out... became an...

   Ended with us breaking up but still living together... and I started dating Poison, another excellent idea... I'm unreal.
 


Friday, May 23, 2008

George Michael v Morrisey...

   I just returned from a long morning walk where a thought occurred to me (those are getting increasingly difficult to hold on to). Stephanie told me that it's a well documented fact that Morrisey doesn't like American Idol (he's just jealous). That makes George Michael's appearance on the show the other night even more compelling. I think that battleground may have made George the unofficial (or maybe official) anti-Morrisey ... Kinda like Tim Hortons is the anti-Starbucks...



   If  there are any further developments remember you heard it here first...


Thursday, May 22, 2008

Who's Cooler ?

     I guess it probably started with Beatles vs. Stones (Mozart vs. Beethoven?). It was Beatles for a while when I was young (Greatest Hits '67-'70 was my second album) then pretty much Stones the rest of the way in (or is it out?). I grew tired of Beatles songs and I almost find them annoying today. But I think the real battle that has raged on since the eighties for many music fans has been Smiths vs. The Cure, or maybe more to the point, Morrisey vs. Robert Smith.
     I'm not going to go into any great detail here but I think as far as personalities go my vote would have to go to Morrisey. I've never been the kind of music fan that needs to know everything about a particular artist (I usually let their music speak for them) so my knowledge of Robert Smith (and Morrisey) is limited but Morrisey is the more interesting of the two and  has the better solo career. As far as the bands themselves go I was always a bigger Cure fan than a Smiths fan. I simply think that they have superior pop songs for my musical tastes. (I like Depeche Mode better than both of them anyway.)
      I've started to meander a bit because Cure vs. Smiths isn't really the point of this blog (I'll let you know what it is just as soon as I do). Oh yeah it was this, I guess it has something to do with how people defend their idols and the coolness factor of some of these now aging rock stars...
       
    
    Always great hair and makeup... 




      The reason I started to think about this was the impressive performance that George Michael gave on American Idol last night (see video below) and how in the last few years he's kind of gone under the wire. I've always been a fan of his music, even in the Wham! days although Wake Me Up wears a little thin now (Careless Whisper still a great song). He's a phenomenal artist/talent that writes, arranges, produces and even plays instruments on his albums but never gets factored into any of these "who's better" or "who's cooler" or "what would George Michael do?" debates (which is probably good). He's refreshing because any time he's screwed up in the media he's taken credit for what he has done (even wrote the song Outside) rather than try to put some spin on it. I have no idea what Robert Smith is doing now (and don't really care but I  wish him well) and as much as I like a lot of Smiths and Morrisey's music I find that he has become (from what I've seen, sorry Hun I know it's his birthday) a preening, pretentious British gasbag. I don't want to come across as sounding like I have a man crush here but right now Mr. Michael could be the reigning king of British cool. Just don't tell Dave Gahan I said so... too bad the King suit in this video never caught on...







American Idol Finale...

   David Cook won (my pick from the beginning... David Archuleta gave him a good run on the final performance night). Stephanie was thrilled to know Brian Adams was on... not. The highlight of the night was definitely George Michael...



Wednesday, May 21, 2008

It's Fun To Say Caulk...



     My partner Dave and I (in work, not life) had to meet with a lady this morning regarding some exterior painting she needs done to her house. We've done quite a bit of work for these people in the past and they live in a beautiful house on the water in West Vancouver. This particular lady is really nice but how would you say?... painstakingly particular- she lives and breathes this house. After exchanging pleasantries we get down to the business of discussing the five pages of notes she has made about the specifics of the paint job (she does her homework- good for her). We proceed to talk briefly about cleaning, cobwebs, what we should paint or shouldn't when all of a sudden she blurts out, "When we get around the back of the house there's some hard, dirty brown caulk I need to show you." I said pardon?!!? She said it so deadpan and seemingly no effort was made to say the "L" in caulk, if you know what I mean. Dave looked one way and I looked the other because if our eyes had met that would have been it over... Snap! Lose it! But being the seasoned veterans that we are we somehow managed to keep it together. What had happened was the builder had caulked some of the window sills and columns but the caulking was never painted so it had discolored, hence the "hard, dirty brown caulk talk." (hope I got the commas right).
 


    Unrelated topic but Dave prepping some doors for spraying...

     This just brought to mind one other quick caulk story. Dave and I had met with this customer and we were standing outside his house discussing the details of his paint job. He had horizontal cedar siding and it had been quite some time since the house was painted. The sun had done it's work (maintenance is the key) and some of the boards had really started to curl up. He wanted to know if there was anything we could do with them (other than replace) and since they were way beyond re-nailing Dave said very matter of factly, "We'll screw it 'til it cracks then we'll caulk the slit." He had no idea what he had just said and I wasn't the pro I am now... I walked away barely managing to keep a straight face. We still laugh about, "Screwing it 'til it cracks." and "Caulking the slit." Ah, painters... a simple bunch but you have to take your humour where you can get it.  

Some Beauty in The Hood...


    
    

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

It's Troubled Me For Years ( Don't Get Me Started)...


    If god in all his infinite wisdom really wanted the supposed crown jewel of his creation, homo sapiens, to believe in him, why did he fill us with logic, reason, curiosity and intelligence and then give us a book as outrageous as the bible to try and explain himself ? And as if that wasn't ridiculous enough, threaten us with the prospect of eternal hellfire and damnation if we somehow can't get our logical and reasoning minds to believe that his son Jesus Christ, born of a virgin, (which is an ancient story, common to many religions) was nailed to across and raised from the dead on the third day for the "forgiveness of our sins"( I never even asked to be born and there's a chance I could roast and toast forever?). Well not really raised from the dead because since he is a member of the Holy Trinity (the godhead, God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost all equal... what the?!?) he actually just did it himself. And since Jesus is the "Word", the Alpha and the Omega, with God from the beginning, he knew exactly where he was going. So really what was the sacrifice on the cross ? A brief period of suffering and then back to paradise. It's like on the way to the crucifixion (fiction) he knew he had four aces up his sleeve... how fair is that to us mere mortals ?
     

Monday, May 19, 2008

GTO Judge and Patsy Gallant...

 


     I've never had more than a passing interest in the automobile. Truth be known I probably wouldn't even own one if I didn't need one for work, although I do own a 1990 Mazda Miata that's fun in the summer but becomes a bit of a hassle to store in the winter... vehicles for me are basically a pain. There was a time in elementary school I sort of feigned interest because I had a project to do with a couple of the cool kids on the stock car and I had to do the drawings... made me feel like I belonged. I was obsessed with vehicles when I was 15 or 16... dreaming of vans, sports cars and four wheel drives- wondering what I would buy and how I was going to get the money together to pay for one. I've been to a few car shows with friends, enjoy watching those over-hauling shows and have a real appreciation for people that take the time and energy to restore vintage vehicles, particularly the muscle cars of the late sixties and early seventies.
      That having been said, it brings me to the point of this blog. I was driving down "the cut" on Saturday when I heard a rumbling sound coming up on the drivers side. I glanced in the side view mirror and saw this cruising up beside me... 

    These aren't pics of the exact car and I'm not sure of what year it was but these are the best I could find on the interweb...




       It was a yellow GTO Judge, completely restored... immaculate. It rolled past me down the hill in what almost seemed like slow motion and as I was admiring it something totally unexpected happened... I found myself covered in chills from head to toe, every hair was standing at attention (and maybe something else). As I watched it pull away from me the goosebumps continued until it was out of view and even for a few minutes afterwards. Like I said earlier, I have little or no interest in the automobile but this kind of felt like love at first sight... which seems a little weird now that I think of it. I can get chills from a song, a car, an entertainer or a movie, but never a "person". That's bizarre... or pathetic... or maybe both.  

     I just posted this for fun, it's over the top and check out the little foot kick at about the 34 second mark. I wanted to post GTO by Ronnie and the Daytonas but it seemed too obvious and there wasn't anything good on YouTube...

  



Saturday, May 17, 2008

Inland Empire...


   It took me a whole week but I've finally suffered through the most pathetic piece of cinematic crap I've ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes upon... David Lynch's Inland Empire. When I rented the movie I had heard absolutely nothing about it and now I can see why. It was a seven day rental and I joked with the girl at the video store that I'll need a week because it clocks in at a whopping 179 minutes of out and out (I'm using the thesaurus here) nonsense, balderdash, claptrap (good one), twaddle, blather, hogwash, tripe, bilge, piffle and bunkum (I really like those last three).  Apparently it was filmed without a script (gee that didn't show at all) and each scene was written before being directly shot on video. Talking rabbits, a storyline based on a gypsy curse and actresses from the film claiming that long after completion of the project they still had no idea what they were supposed to be playing. Speaking of actresses the only somewhat redeeming factor of the film was the performance of Laura Dern... she basically carried it but at times I almost felt embarrassed for her.
     Most of the movie was filmed in the dark and there were even instructions on how to adjust your TV for a better viewing experience. Maybe it's just me but I've never been a fan of movies I can barely see due to darkness... in this case however, I'd be glad to make an exception. I usually watch movies with the sub-titles on so I don't miss any of the dialogue and when music or action kicks in I don't get blasted out of the room because the volume was raised... I can keep the volume at a reasonable level. To add insult to injury this movie didn't present the option of sub-titles and most of the speaking was so low I couldn't hear it and I found myself begrudgingly adjusting the volume (the soundtrack was kind of cool though) in every scene. 
     At this point you're probably thinking, "You stupid idiot, what the heck did you even finish it for?" That's simple, like a train wreck I couldn't look away and by the time I got halfway through I obviously had to see how it ended, which was badly. Don't get me wrong, I like weird and I like many of David Lynch's films (Elephant Man, Eraserhead, Wild at Heart, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive... Mulholland Falls is better) but that is 179 minutes of my life that I can never get back and the video store is phoning me because it's late... to quote B. Diederich... AAAARGH !

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Port Arms Caper...


    
       When I was 15 or 16 and looking for trouble on the mean streets of 1970's Port Moody, one Sat. afternoon it found us (we may have already smoked a "marijuana cigarette"). The three of us were just sort of hanging out when these dudes (I don't think we used "dude" then) from a rougher crowd than ours, which wasn't very hard to do, asked us if we wanted to come and see 25 cases of beer that they had stolen from the Port Arms Hotel. Are you kidding me?! You bet we do!


        The two or three of them and three of us proceeded down across the tracks (what are the odds?) to where the contraband supposed to have been hidden in the bush. When we arrived at "the spot" there was nothing there... all the beer was gone and I was afraid these guys would think that we took it. They were pissed but the gang of us just ended up leaving, heading our separate ways home.  

  The usual suspects...
    
       A little while later there was a knock at the door and it was two of Port Moody's finest. (The only trouble I had with the law up until then was the time the police caught us streaking down main street. Naked except for ball caps and running shoes, the guy at the lead of our procession looked back over his shoulder and yelled, "COPS!"  I thought he was only kidding until I looked for myself... talk about haul ass. They never caught us that night, it's surprising how fast you can run naked. We ended up having to hide in a prickle bush...ouch. I received a call a couple of days later from the police saying they had found my wallet... they had taken it out of the pup tents we were staying in in this vacant lot. When I went to pick it up at the desk the cop sad,"Here's one of our streakers." That wasn't embarrassing at all. Of course I denied it but they knew) but I digress.... My Mom had answered the door and I could tell by her tone when she called me that I was in trouble. The police had received a tip about the stolen beer, had the place staked out and followed us home. They started to ask me some questions about said beer when my Mom chimed in saying, "Take him away!" It was almost like she was waiting for this day to happen.
       They already had one of my other buddies in custody when they loaded me in the police car. I thought I was a goner, I'm gonna be doin' hard time man. When we got to the police station they put us in separate rooms for interrogation, it had all happened so fast we didn't have time to get our "stories straight" or even come up with a decent lie. Port Moody has it's own private police force and we knew most of them by name, my interrogator turned out to be one of the worst at the time, Officer Connell, I was freakin'. He was a mean Scotsman with a strong brogue and that fringe around his bald head. I don't recall much of the questioning other than,"What were you doing going down into the bush with those guys?" What do you want me to say? "Smoke a joint?". I didn't want to rat anybody out and I had absolutely no idea what my partner in crime was saying so I just used the same technique I'd been using with my folks for years, mumble, stammer and say, "I dunno..."
        They eventually let us go and nothing else ever came of  it. There was a sense of relief when they released us for two reasons. One for just getting out and two for not being known as a fink, but in looking back now the best thing about that day was my Mom and her, "Take him away..." Thanks, Mom... 

Kids Rock...

   Give this a chance, it's kinda funny...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Coco...

    When I'm painting inside of peoples houses, I'll sniff or sample the perfumes or colognes...(well maybe not the perfumes, unless they have Charlie). This classic smells pretty good... 

Uncle Leo...

  Possibly the shortest video on YouTube, but funny...

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

The Sweet...

   I'm not sure what it is... I've always loved The Sweet but it seems lately that they may well be my favorite band of all time... and I've liked a lot of bands-it's really tough to pick a favorite. They just seem to have it all for me... Glam, great pop songs- catchy with a real rock edge and most people just don't get them...



Move Over Sylvia Plath...


     It seems every decision has been wrong,
     Though many seemed good at the time.
     Situations, relations ran on way too long, 
     Wheels spinning at the starting line.
 
     A lifetime spent fighting city hall,
     And battles I would never win.
     Always feeling that I dropped the ball,
     Or left it far from the pin.
 
     Today, I know there's always today,
     The page is as black as my heart.
     Resuming the struggle right after I,
     Go to the bathroom and fart.
        
    

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

First Dates...

    I didn't date at all in junior or senior high school. The girls that I thought were cute I knew I was never going to talk to (terrified comes to mind) and the ones I had a chance with (if there were any) I wasn't interested in. There was this one girl named Dawn who stalked me throughout grades 11 and 12. Although it was flattering because there weren't a lot of other options, she kinda creeped me out. 
    At seventeen I left home to seek my fortune, moving to Penticton, as I mentioned in a previous blog. A friend of my uncle's, Don, had offered me a job at a mobile home factory and later on a date with his younger sister, Rena (pronounced Ree-na). It was a blind date and I was to meet her at Don's, who happened to live right next door to my uncle. Having never been on a date I was pretty nervous (bordering on petrified) but I knew I needed to press on if I was ever going to have any meaningful interaction with the opposite sex.


My Aunt took this pic as I was leaving... smooth...


    When I went to pick Rena up she immediately complimented me saying that I looked nice. Having never received a compliment from a female and possessing zero self confidence, I thought she was lying to make me feel good even though she seemed sincere. It felt good anyway and we left on our date, I had made plans to go to the drive-in- Led Zeppelin; The Song Remains the Same was playing... a real date movie classic. I really don't recall too much of the date other than how bad the movie was and a horrendous discovery about myself. I guess we were about halfway through the film when Rena snuggled in close, looking up at me with these big brown eyes, I knew she wanted me to kiss her. I froze and then  started to shake, almost uncontrollably. I swear if I would have let myself go it could have easily turned into convulsions, I was that scared and nervous (I use "nervous" but it was way beyond that). I blamed my condition on how cold it was and we finished the movie, our lips never touching. I don't think I ever saw her again.
     Date two was with a friend of my sisters whose name was Debbie. I sort of knew Debbie already and her and her family were vacationing in Penticton for their summer holidays. My sister was there as well and through her I had arranged a date with Debbie to go see the first Star Wars movie. As I was leaving to pick her up the fears of my first date with Rena seeped in... so I decided to take a little pre-date precaution, I downed a few ounces of vodka...

    That's my sister on my right and Debbie on my left....  


     After the vodka I smelt footh. I met her parents at their campsite where I was totally charming, funny, confident and relaxed (so I thought). I took Debbie to the Pen-Mar Cinemas where Star Wars was playing and we took our seats. We were enjoying the movie and each others company when something awful started to happen... the vodka was wearing off and I started to shake again, worse than before. This time I blamed my shuddering on the air conditioning because it was the middle of summer. I may have gotten a bit better over the years but truthfully deep down... probably not...   

Monday, May 12, 2008

Underwear, Wine and May...


     Had to say goodbye to another pair of old faithful,
     Turning into vapor trails. 
     A once proud pair of underwear,
     Now it seems are barely there.

     Hard to part with a comfy old friend,
     All good things must come to an end.
     Shed a tear and try to move on,
     Forget someone you've known for so long.


     Thought I'd try a fairly expensive French wine... maybe I ain't learned enough but I really didn't care for it... I'll stick with the $15 to $20 bottles, I can't go back to $10...



     
  I was thumbing through one of the local free papers when I came (no pun intended... well maybe a little) across this ad. I kind of thought this was every month. Are we really supposed to "step it up" in May ? It also seems that all the seminars aren't really related to self love at all- and what's up with the photo?!!? 


Sunday, May 11, 2008

Pickle Suprise...

      Some retarded things I never tire of.... 

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Classic...


Black Oak Arkansas...

     Dedicated to B. Diederich.... I know this song is the "obvious choice" but it was the only decent one on YouTube. Universally hated by the critics and my friends, I loved them... I hope it wasn't the suit. I was in tears (of joy) watching this. Now that's some good old fashioned rock n roll. Move over David Lee Roth...

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Friday, May 9, 2008

Strange Facts Known By Few...

   Did you know and were you aware...

      That a horses eye is the same size at birth as it is when it's fully grown...


      
      Although bleaching has been around for centuries in various forms (google it if you're interested) modern bleach was invented around World War 1 when researchers found that by injecting salt water with an electric current it broke down the salt (sodium chloride) molecules and produced a compound called sodium hypochlorite. This discovery enabled the mass production of sodium hypochlorite, or chlorine, bleach...




      Before a Major League baseball game 10 or 11 dozen game balls go into a canvas bag after they've been "rubbed up" with a special mud that comes from one spot on the banks of the Delaware River in New Jersey. The official story is that umpires rub these baseballs, but the job's actually done by a member of the home teams staff, usually the person who manages the umpires equipment. One tin of the official Lena Blackburne Rubbing Mud will usually last a season. Before each home game the equipment manager slips on rubber gloves so the grit and odor don't work their way into his hands, pours a discerning dollop of water into the mud, and works it into the balls (I said, pardon?) occasionally spitting on them to get the right consistency (again I say, pardon?)... 
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