Archive for the ‘Shtuff’ Category


November 17th, 2012 No comments

She said
Show me the world that’s inside your head
Show me the world that you see yourself
You could use some help
Cause sometimes it comes with a shove
When you fall in love

(okay, even drunk I can see these lyrics won’t make a whole lot of objective sense. But in context, aw fuck objectivity anyway, I heart this song.)


A bit of reality for your Monday

October 29th, 2012 No comments

The next time you see a Hollywood scene that takes place under running fire sprinklers, remember that THIS is what the water sitting in those pipes looks like.


And this:


And just because I have a new iPhone, this:

And it smells like burnt rubber, or maybe diesel fumes. You’re welcome

Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be writers

March 29th, 2012 No comments

A wrong number to the GF’s phone interrupted one of my patented fucked up yet boring dreams. As far as I can recall an avant garde retrospective (on TV?) morphs into perfume ads via the intercession of a hipster porn starlet conducting a kangaroo court over the phone by way of stock photos in frames for sale. But it might have been a satire (the TV show, I mean).

The worst part, my writer’s brain tries to make sense of it. The what I assumed was the hipster porn starlet speaks jargon to the pictures, clearly in response to some input. Then she points them at a blank spot in the wall for a decision. But the wall communicates to the frame directly, so I guess she’s a bailiff? Or secretary? See, the pictures are the telephones. Then washed up soul singers (who I think were supposed to be the Pointer Sisters) are talking about La Creme no. 2 and wearing silly hats with absurd veils.

Sometimes I wish I was born to pump gas. I’m worried of what happens when I go back to sleep.

Tags: , ,

Oh, my silly subconcious

April 24th, 2011 No comments

My alarm just woke me up from a dream about starting a new job, a job that replaced my current one. I can’t recall exactly what the job was, I think it was driving some kind of walker (like the loader in Aliens). I was looking through my new hire paperwork, including incredibly detailed, very small pay chits and releases regarding the use of salt in the employee cafeteria.

I suppose it beats chronic nightmares but still, even I have to wonder what is wrong with my brain that this is the stuff it dredges up when I sleep.


The happy time ends

March 31st, 2011 No comments

The last two weeks I had three day weekends. Last week because I traded with a coworker, the week before that because of my birthday.

The week before that my boss was on vacation. And just as a warmup he took the prior two Mondays off (which, since I work solo on Sundays, was like a three day weekend).

But it all comes crashing down.

This weekend is one day, the other day I traded with coworker. After that he goes on a three week vacation. Which means extra hours, if not extra days.

But you think, hey, overtime! And yeah, you’d be right except for the part where it’s worth it. I mean, I’ll take the money, but it only works out to an extra three bucks an hour. Which means it’s just more time at a place I hate doing shit I didn’t learn with the student loans I’m paying off.


The commercial real estate market needs to pick up.



Driving lesson suggestions

August 27th, 2009 5 comments

Next week is the last of my three driving lessons and accordingly my final chance to get some professional instruction. Without spending even more money, anyway.

The only things I can think of I need to cover are crazy streets like 82nd, freeway driving and some parking stuff. Parallel parking in particular.

The suggestions I’d like are what do YOU all wish that you could do, or do better when driving. Or perhaps what do you wish other people knew?

I already know how to not tailgate, not that it’s a specific skill. That’s more “how not to be an asshole.”


Holy cow! (another exercise post)

July 18th, 2009 1 comment

I haven’t lifted weights in about three months. I can’t remember why I stopped, probably a Krav Maga related owie, maybe simple malaise, I dunno.

But I’m back and my focus now is less on building muscle, but on minimizing muscle loss while I’m dieting. I’m still doing the single set routine, I’ll see if I want to revise that when my goal weight is reached, or I just can’t lose any more gut. Or more probably, decide it’s not worth whatever sacrifice it’ll take. I’d like to get under 200lbs, I can’t remember the last time I weighed less than two bucks. And now, random thoughts while I’m waiting between exercises….

My stretching routine takes almost half an hour! Wow! No wonder I was having trouble finishing my workout in a reasonable time before. But it’s good stretching, so I’ll keep it.

My gut has shrunk enough that it’s noticeably easier to do leg presses. I giggle with glee shamelessly.

I want to be able to do pull ups. Why do they have to be so damn hard?

This is easier than I’d feared. A lot of atrophy happens in three months. The bench press in particular was better than anticipated. Pecs, yay!!!

Who thought up these stupid cross hatch grips? My palms are hamburger! Boo!!

Better get to the treadmill. Harry Potter this afternoon!

Okay, no treadmill. Crap. Off we go.

Tags: ,

Another winner

July 8th, 2009 1 comment

from Not Always Right.

As The Checkout Line Churns

Clothing Store | Philadelphia, PA, USA

(I’m ringing up a customer and notice her last name is the same as mine. I have a very uncommon last name, so I made the mistake of mentioning this…)

Me: “Your last name is [name]? Mine, too. Wonder if we’re related?” *chuckle*

Customer: *very serious* “What is your name?”

Me: “Oh, I was joking, we’re not related; almost all of my family lives up in New England.”

Customer: *more serious* “What is your name?”

Me: “Uhhh…I’m no–”

Customer: “Do you have a brother named [brother’s name]?”

Me: “Yes, actually…”

Customer: “Is your mother [mom’s name]?”

Me: “Uh, yeah…”

Customer: “And your father’s name is [my estranged father’s name]?”

Me: “Well, he’s my biological father, yes.”

Customer: *sticks out hand* “Nice to meet you, I’m your step-mother!”

(The entire line of about a dozen people behind her gasps, like they were watching a soap opera.)

Me: “Oh, God…please don’t tell my father I work here.”

Customer: “You know why your father left your mother, right?”

Me: “Uh…no?”

Customer: “Because she cheated on him with [my stepfather]!”

(The line behind her gasps again.)

Me: “Oh, okay…”

Customer: “You know, your father is very heartbroken about you. You’ve grown up to be such a beautiful young woman. You should call him and talk to him just so he can see how you’re doing.”

Me: “Actually, we don’t–”

Customer: “You and I need to go out for coffee sometime. I have a lot of stories to tell you.”

Me: “Okay, well–”

Customer: “I promise, I’m not an evil stepmother. Well, I’ll see you later, sweetie!” *bounces out the front door*

Me: *speechless*

Next customer: “Sweetie, are you okay?”

Me: *still speechless*

Next customer: “Why don’t you take a break? We don’t mind waiting.”

Entire line: “No! Go take a break!”

Me, to my boss: “Hey, I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in–”

Boss: “For God’s sake, go home! I’ll see you on Monday.”

Tags: ,

Hilarious review of a terrible book

May 16th, 2009 No comments

Yet another wonder from

I quote (without link, for a certain someone who can’t read underlined text, apparently).

“Deciding the wait for the woman’s bathroom is too long, Louise slips into the men’s room in hopes of relieving herself quickly. There she is assailed by the stench of the men’s room and the sight of the gorgeous man at the urinal:

‘And the sight of the huge cock the knight is holding in his right hand as he shakes off the last few drops of pee is even more dazzling.'”

Oh yeah.


Twilight: The Abridged Version

May 14th, 2009 3 comments

Suddenly, ROBERT PATTINSON enters. The paleness of him and his family members reach blinding levels while the squeals in the movie theater reach deafening levels.

Who’s the albino Wolverine?

Thank you, TV Tropes for linking me to that. Bless you, sirs. Bless you.