Quick Update

Cable's still down at home, and by all accounts, won't be back on for a few more days. So, I'm coming into the office for a bit to check email, do some stuff for the art show and check some of my regular websites.

The posters for the Personality of Cult art show are now up around Tulsa, but there's a lot more left to do to promote this thing. I guess I got so caught up in the coolness of this little cult classic art show idea that I forgot to calculate a budget for promotions and, you know, raise money. Note to self: Charge an entry fee next time!

Speaking of cult classics, I used up some gift cards and got myself a few DVDs the other night. I had set out to get the 5-disc Blade Runner Deluxe Set and the Futurama movie, but they were sold out of both. So, I wound up getting the 4-disc Blade Runner set, and with the money I saved there, I got The Ghostbusters 1 & 2 set, Enter the Dragon and Dr. Strangelove. That should keep the Cable TV withdrawals to a minimum.

Friday night I went to see Rocky Horror at the Circle Cinema midnight movie. It was a blast! I had never been, and I managed to keep myself from being outed as a "virgin". I found it amazing that with an event with so many rules of conduct, that it could get that crazy. It was organized chaos, and it was awesome! I did, however, have to dig a couple of grains of rice out of my ear canal afterwards, but that was the only after-effect.

Last night was Hosty Duo at Arnie's Bar AND my friend Heather's birthday. It was a really good show, even though the crowd was a little bit rough. A few people had to be held back before a fight could break out. But hey, most of those folks were from out-of-town, and didn't really know that Arnie's is, for the most part, a peaceful kind of joint. Another thing I noticed is that at least half of the crowd was probably not even born yet when the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up. I gotta just accept the fact that I'm getting older.

Another thought I had last night was that I think I'm reaching the point where it's getting pretty sad to close down a bar and going home alone. Most of my friends that were there with me all had this air about them that they could have another drink, get a little crazier, because they had someone to drive them home. Meanwhile, I had to do my usual thing where I monitor my buzz, cut myself off and prepare myself to drive home. Oh well, another thing for me to work on.

Holiday

I made it through the ice storm. I made it through the power outage. The only thing that was left was for me to get through the delayed freaking out those two little situations bring. It's a little annoying part of my coping mechanism. I wait to completely break down until there's no longer a reason to break down.

It hasn't been all that bad, but with everything else going on in my life all I've wanted to do is sit in my living room and stare at a lit light bulb. But, it's the holidays, so of course, it busy busy busy.

I got to go home early on Friday afternoon and take a much needed nap. That night, ben.ben. was playing downtown, and I got my name on the guest list. I had never heard them play before. It was really good. It was a themed art show/performance art kinda thing. Frank Zappa would have been proud. I really appreciated the performance, almost as much as I did laughing at the folks who had no idea what was going on. Too bad I got tired and pooped out after the first show. I needed to get some more sleep.

Saturday, I slept in for a bit...one of those mornings that you just wanna stay in bed, until the urge to pee gets too great to ignore. So, I got up and started cleaning up the last of the remains of Ice Storm Slob Fest '07. I started by just taking care of the trash and straightening up a bit. It quickly grew in scope to a rearranging of the living room. It was a long time coming, truth be told.

Saturday night was the tacky holiday sweater party at Andey and Pete's house. I didn't have anything particularly tacky, and the ice storm pretty much zapped out my kitschy thrift store budget (if I ever had one to begin with). So, I just threw on my only patterned sweater. People complimented me on my tacky sweater, which kinda hurt me because I wear it quite often. Oh, well.

Sunday was the drive to Little Rock to the folks' house. Four hours with the radio off and nothing but the thoughts I've needed to sort out. It was cathartic. I got to the house with enough time to rest before dinner and presents. My mom got me a few books I've had on my list for a while, plus the new Eagles CD, which I've wanted to buy really bad, but not bad enough to venture to Wal-Mart to get it.

Monday was my day to veg out. We got a visit from my sister-in-law's sister and her husband. He brought his Wii, and we all played around with it for a little bit. He could've just as well give me a small hit of heroin, because now I want a Wii more than ever! Gotta be smart. Car first, then we'll see about the new game system. Adulthood really sucks sometimes.

Tonight, I made a point to go see my brother and his family before they headed out to a dinner party down the street. They kept trying to get me to go with them, even having me help them carry stuff over to the party and introducing me to a few people. I made every excuse I could to leave, because I wasn't feeling that sociable and felt it better to spend time with my family, even if it's just to chat a bit during the Christmas Story marathon on TBS.

Tomorrow, I make my way back to Tulsa, with a couple holiday visits along the way. it really doesn't feel like I've lived the four day holiday to the fullest and completely recharged my batteries, but no worries. I've got another four-day holiday coming up next weekend.

I have the power

Nine days. Nine fucking days without electricity. I got it back yesterday at 4:12 pm. Cable's still out, but that's why I have DVD's.

Night before last, I cleaned out the fridge. Sweet zombie Jesus, was it nasty. Having to clean it by candlelight wasn't much of a treat, either. At one point, I actually wondered, "When did I have rice in my refrigerator, and why are all of the grains moving?", but that may have been the bleach fumes directing that train of thought.

So now, I have all my laundry caught up, I have power, and everything is almost back to normal... until the next ice storm.

Still powerless

Yet again, I'm at the office for my electricity and internet fix. My power at home is still out, and the earliest and most reliable estimate of getting power back is tomorrow or Tuesday.

Yesterday, I took some friends out to lunch and to see I Am Legend. There's nothing like watching a movie about the end of the world to take you mind off having no lights at home. All in all, it was a really good flick. I hate that special effects have gotten so good that I find myself distracted from the film wondering how the hell they did it.

Another thing that I found fascinating about the film is that they made Will Smith's character a Bob Marley fan. It's explained later on in the movie and it makes perfect sense in the end, but still, it was a strange choice for the character starting out. This subplot also allowed for one of my all-time favorite songs to be played during the end credits. Which song? Go see the damn movie!

I only wish I had gone to see it at the IMAX. Where I saw it, there was a trailer for The Dark Knight, but at the IMAX, there was a six minute preview. I found some camera phone footage online and I got the gist of it, but man, that preview is gonna be cool seeing it first-hand. WHo knows, I could possibly see I Am Legend again real soon.

In the meantime, I'm off to go pay some bills. It would suck to get my electricity back just to have it shut off again. Of course, in my defense, it's kinda hard to find your bills when the lights are out.

Movie Poster Oddities

I spent a few minutes on one of my favorite movie sites, and I've noticed a few weird trends in poster design:

The Black & White Alternating Backgrounds, Title in Color, Brooding Intensity...
The Hint, Hint, Guys! It's a Date Movie, And You Best Buy Her Some Roses Beforehand...The Hero in Deep Thought Stance...
Finally, the Silhouetted Guy on the Horizon with Muted/Duo-toned Background, a.k.a the "Private Ryan"

Powerless

Just in case you were wondering, yes, I was affected by the ice storm here. I have been without power for the past four days (I'm at the office right now). There are trucks in my neighborhood as of five this evening, but I couldn't tell if they were to fix the lines or trim the tree branches back. The best estimate I've heard is that all of Tulsa will be back to full power by about Tuesday.

I'm more fortunate than most, in that I have gas heat and hot water. So far, I've only been able to spend about an hour by candlelight before screaming "FUCK THIS!" and drive down to orders for coffee/listen to the preview CD's/magic marker the Bill O'Reilly books. The past few nights I've spent time with friends who have electricity, then went home to sleep in my own bed.

Here are some of the highlights of the week.

- Monday night, the storm was still going on, and I had the pleasure of driving past a transformer just as it blew. It took about an hour for my hearing and the ability to control the volume of my voice to regulate itself again.

- We all played Star Wars Monopoly for most of Monday night. a few minutes in, we lost power to half of the house...easily fixed by extension cords from the powered side. The game ended as 99.9% of all Monopoly games end, with everyone starting to take drastic measures to build up every property before abandoning it after about an hour. I got home a little after one.

- Tuesday night, Amy got her power back, so we all huddled at her place, had a home cooked meal and watched a double feature of the Blues Brothers and Stranger Than Fiction.

- On the way home, I got pulled over. Strangely enough, for doing 30 in a 35 MPH zone. The irony is that the cop first yelled at me, "Do you not think the rules apply to you?!?" The cop chewed me out for going too fast on slick streets, and I have a sneaking suspicion he never even ran my license when he went back to his car. I had, in my nervousness, gave him my old insurance card (not this year's), and he never asked me about the whole Oklahoma license/Arkansas tags thing, as every cop who's pulled me over in the past three years has immediately done. I think the cop just wanted to vent.

- Last night was Little Miss Sunshine at Amy's place, followed by a long talk about anything and everything. Home by eleven.

- Today, I made the mistake of driving around near Promenade Mall. The mall has power, but the traffic lights are still out. Holiday shoppers, one car at a time, through every intersection within a mile radius. I coped by sitting there and circling the people I hated around me, one by one...which was pretty much everyone.

- Now, I'm at the office, taking advantage of the satellite TV to watch CSI:. Fortunate that this whole mess happened during a writer's strike. I have one episode of one more show left before they run out of new stuff. After that, I'll be heading to the bar for a couple beers and back home to sleep.

Tonight's forecast: 100% chance of freezing you ass off, with continued mostly shitty throughout the night, followed by wildly scattered "fuck, I'm staying in bed" in the morning.

Things you'll probably never see, yet still a remote possibility

A mime riding a pony.

A Segway with a baby seat.

A wet burka contest.

Sir Mix-A-Lot testifying before Congress.

Michael Bay sincerely using the word subtle.

9/11: The Musical!

Diet whisky.

A USB-powered smoke machine.

Clouds on fire.

A TV drama about a hard-drinking insurance adjuster...who doesn't play by the rules.

Barry Bonds Day.

Star Wars: The Definitive Final Cut.

Celine Dion covering Iron Maiden.

Scented motor oil.

A Hummer H3 with a Reduce, Reuse, Recycle bumper sticker parked next to a Pinto with neon effects.

Bill O'Reilly in the middle of a 7-11 anxiously waiting on a microwave burrito.

A DMV clerk shotgunning a Red Bull.

Edible High-def DVDs.

A Stocks and Bonds section on Craigslist.

A Dick Cheney kitten calendar.

Numbers

I'm going in to see how much I pre-qualify for on car loan. So, I've been crunching a few numbers tonight. I haven't checked my credit for a while, but I feel confident that I'm a hell of a lot better off than I was a few years ago. Fingers crossed, I guess.

My needs are gonna be pretty simple. Four doors, standard transmission, somewhere in the area of $7,000 to $9,000, fairly low mileage and fairly good gas mileage. This being the end of the year, it's as good of a buyer's market as it can get. Of course, if I can find a private seller, negotiation would be much more favorable.

In an attempt to offset the change in my budget a car payment will no doubt bring, I'm gonna pull double duty at the bank and ask about a credit card, you know, while they have my credit history up on the screen. Again, fingers crossed.

I have four weeks until the end of the year, and factoring in cost of living, I'll be coming up short of my savings goals for this year. I'll be pushing for some overtime over the next few weeks to try and make up for it. Not that I've been spending wildly for the past year, just developed a taste for the name brands at the supermarket. I didn't count on a year without bagged cereal adding up to so much. Et tu, Tony the Tiger?

I talked to my folks for a bit, and they've been discussing maybe selling me their HHR in lieu of trading it in as they originally planned. I had my doubts about it, though. Too much car for me, for one. Too much money for another. While we were talking, I was checking out a few used car sites. When my mom aksed me about considering getting another Ford Focus, AutoTrader produced one match to my search criteria: a 2005 Ford Focus. I bookmarked it and marked it as a possibility. Hell, at least I know how they handle.

I got tired of thinking about it, but oddly enough, I found myself on MacMall's site, figuring out how much my dream Mac system would cost me. I do this about once or twice a year. The past couple years, I've been fairly brass tacks about my system, but not this time. This time, I went full-tilt, top of the line everything. My basic dream system, everything I know I'll need, will cost me upwards of $27,000. I went further than that, and figured out how much the ultimate dream system, with software and hardware do do the things I've always wanted to learn (3-D imaging, video editing, web hosting) ran the total up to $40,000.

It was then that I realized that I've reached a point where the things I choose to distract myself from what I'm doing, in this case car shopping, with something strangely parallel to it, like shopping for a new computer. Much like Sunday, where I took a break from doing dishes and found myself scrubbing the toilet. Or like Saturday, where I took a nap about two hours after getting out of bed in the morning. I fear that I'll eventually come full circle and take a break from my work by doing more work.

An open letter to the Golden Compass protesters

To whom it may concern:

I've been reading a lot of articles about the controversy surrounding the Golden Compass. People are upset that it is supposedly anti-Christian, that it is a slight against God, etc. I just wanted to remind you of a simple little thing: It's a fucking movie! Calm down.

I'm not writing this as some sort of anti-Christian heretic, secular progressive, or whatever catchphrase of the nanosecond someone like you resorts to under the circumstances. I just want to make the point that the more you try to keep people from seeing the movie, the more they'll want to see it. Newton's Third Law: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Ironic that science applies to this, don't you think?

Also, I'm not just talking out of my ass here. Need proof? Five words: The Last Temptation of Christ. Tons of protests worldwide, plus a theater in France showing the film getting bombarded with molotov cocktails. The film made a decent profit and even netted Scorcese a Best Director nomination.

One more word: Dogma. Again, decent profit, particularly since you squeezed Disney's balls tight enough that the film had to be sold to and released by a smaller distributor. Plus, any hit the box office gross took was more than made up for on the DVD sales. Plus, Kevin Smith is still alive and working, despite the death threats he received.

Another example: The Da Vinci Code. Bad news, folks, it's getting a sequel!

I find it funny that the one film regarding Jesus that didn't get any protests (Passion of the Christ) turned out to be one of the bloodiest and most violent movies I've ever seen. Don't get me wrong, I understood the film's message of Jesus' suffering, but for crying out loud, ten overweight hemophiliacs combined, each with high blood pressure, Hepatitis C and every vein opened would bleed less than that.

Sure, you could argue that movies like these are just another example of how Hollywood is completely out of control and has absolutely no regard for common decency. I tend to agree with that viewpoint, you blame this on films like the Golden Compass, while for me it's because Paris Hilton, Jessica Simpson and Hillary Duff have film careers. And its true that Hollywood doesn't care about either of our opinions. They don't have to. Why? Because we're not the target audiences for the films that make us so upset!

But did you see me protesting House of Wax, Employee of the Month, or...whatever Hillary Duff was in last? No, because I've got better things to do with my life than to attempt to keep people from seeing a movie I don't want to have anything to do with in the first place. Which begs the question: Wouldn't this time spent picketing in front of the multiplex be better spent, I don't know, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, or any of the other things Jesus actually talked about?

Besides, are you so afraid that your faith is that fragile that it will be shattered by listening to a song, watching a movie or reading a book? Well, maybe that's not that much of a stretch considering that your faith is essentially based on one book. Just saying...

Anyway, I'll be seeing the Golden Compass, despite your protests...maybe especially because of your protests. And don't bother telling me that I'm going to Hell or won't be allowed into Heaven because I buy a ticket to a movie you don't agree with. Think about it, regardless of whether I seek forgiveness in your opinion for my sins, if I have to spend eternity with irrational people like you, then your Heaven and my Hell are one and the same.

See you at the theater!

Famous Last Words

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"Hey, look at what I can do!"

"Your husband? Here?!?"

"I'm going with the blue wire."

"This rope bridge seems sturdy enough."

"That bet didn't count! We didn't shake on it."

"I'm getting good at this Russian roulette!"

"I'm gonna teach those neo-Nazi meth-heads a lesson!"

"Landmines, shmandmines."

"Buckle up, I'm gonna try something."

"See, these are friendly scorpions."

"I just love cooking toast while in the bath."

"Wow. When did all of these greasy Italian guys get here?"

"Sword swallowing? I'll try anything once."

"You Al Qaeda types are all alike: Total cowards."

"Stay here, I'll try to reason with the gunman."

"What's with the chainsaw?"

Weekend Update

FRIDAY

I finally got caught up on my work....that is to say that I took it as far as I could. The ball in the clients' court for now.

Friday night I went to a party at a friend's house. Had I known it was a dinner party, I wouldn't have eaten beforehand. Oh, well...It was great just hanging out with them and pound a few glasses of wine. I had to leave early to catch the midnight movie at the Circle Cinema. This time, it was Flash Gordon.

Flash Gordon is one of those movies that I remember loving when I was a kid, and I now know that I can enjoy it as an adult, but for the opposite reasons. I found myself just marveling at how unbelievably cheesy the film is. Thanks to Mystery Science Theater 3000, I've developed a love for the unbelievably cheesy. This particular viewing also allowed me to witness the greatest joke I've ever heard thrown back at the movie screen. When Flash is on the forest "planet", Timothy Dalton comes out and asks, "Do you know where you are?" From the front of the theater, someone belted out, "YOU'RE IN THE JUNGLE, BABY!" No one could hear a line of dialog from the movie for at least two minutes because we were laughing so hard.

SATURDAY

I slept in until around noon, and stayed in my pajamas until about six. Just a lazy day.

At night, I went to see Larkin down at Arnie's. It wasn't a typical crowd for a Larkin gig, but it was still a lot of fun. Hanging out at Arnie's, I gotta admit, is becoming much more fun since I stopped working the door. However, its a tough habit to break. I found myself a couple of times scanning the crowd, making sure no one was making any trouble.

I started to get really tired around one, but decided to stick around and close the bar down. I started to get my second wind around the time I was leaving, so I went home and stayed up for a while longer and did a bit of writing.

SUNDAY

I only had three things to do today: Laundry, dishes and pay rent. Those things temporarily took a back seat when Mary and Ivy invited me to a late breakfast at Blue Dome. The four cups of coffee I had there gave me the energy I needed to do the three things I had to do today.

Now, I'm just surfing the web and killing time before dinner.

Behold! Italian Spiderman!

Perhaps I'm still a bit off kilter from the past week, but this seemed to make all the bad juju melt away:

Last week

Last week was rough. Walking into the office Monday morning, I knew of one big project I had to take care of. Much to my shock, there were about twenty jobs in front of it. At that moment, I knew I might have to rearrange my holiday plans.

As I got further along and more jobs got in my way, I decided to go ahead and abbreviate my holiday plans and skip the trip to Little Rock, opting to only go to Alma for the day and drive back home to work the rest of the weekend.

It was Tuesday afternoon before I even got onto the big project. I stayed a couple hours late that night, but burn-out was setting in. I went home, cooked some dinner, cleaned house a bit, got some rest and jumped back on it Wednesday morning. I worked my ass off, and still only managed to get about a third of the work done on the big project.

I arranged a meeting with my boss Wednesday afternoon to assess what I needed (or if I needed to do) this weekend. By the time this meeting came around, I was pissed. I had just crammed a week's worth of work into three days. This has been a bit of a trend the past few months. I haven't been able to work longer hours because of tight deadlines...a lot of due-at-end-of-day stuff. So, instead, I've been working harder hours; getting the same amount of work done without the benefit of overtime.

I talked to my boss, and explained my frustration over the matter. I told him I was going to take three days off for the holiday and I'd come in on Sunday for a bit. I also took the opportunity to tell him that I would like some time off at some point. I had four or five days of vacation left over from last year that I can't use and won't be compensated for. The last day of vacation I took was one day back in August, and even then I had to come in for a couple hours. I pleaded my case for a raise without mentioning the word itself, much less the fact that I haven't had one in close to two years. After that chat, I clocked out and went home.

I went to see a late show of Enchanted with some friends on Wednesday night. A welcome distraction and a pretty decent flick, particularly coming from Disney. Plus, it had Amy Adams in it, on whom my crush may be bordering on creepy restraining order territory. She's so pretty...

...Wait, were was I? Oh, yeah, reality.

I kept to my plan to just do the one family thing on Thursday. I felt like such an asshole for doing so, but I had my reasons: A) I'm trying to save up for a new car, and spending close to $150 in gas wasn't gonna help me with that goal. B) With as pissed as I was about my job, I didn't want to vent to my family about it and the only consolation I get is another plea to move down there and live with them. And C) I just wasn't in the holiday mood, and desperately needed some alone time.

Friday was a simple, shower-free day at home. My only venturing out was to pick up cat food and groceries and a DVD and coffee at Borders. Pathetic as it sounds, getting drunk alone on a Friday night watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 was an enjoyable experience.

Saturday was starting to be another day at home, but I got an invitation to the Jazz Depot for Annie Ellicott and Erin Austin. Great show, great music, good times, noodle salad. I noticed a woman hanging around the bar there that looked really familiar. It took me a little while to figure it out, and it hit me: She was one of the artists signed up for my show. I talked to her for a bit before I left to go to a party I had heard about earlier. I went to that party for all of ten minutes, where, oddly enough, I wound up meeting a couple more of the artists that had signed up for my show. Apparently, people have been doing a bit of talking about this show, and I'm a budding celebrity as a result. Feels kinda nice.

I was at the party so briefly because my friend who asked me to come was heading over to Caz's. I finished the night up there, getting a good little buzz, letting it subside and went home to get some sleep. I slept in this morning, went into the office for a bit and now I'm back home. There may be some hell to pay tomorrow morning, but I'll be at least more rested.

Douchebag's lament

Maybe I'm just sick, but news like this just makes me laugh. Joe Francis, founder of "Girls Gone Wild", is claiming abuse during his stint at an Oklahoma jail awaiting transfer to a federal jail in Reno (he's awaiting trail for tax evasion). Guards allegedly denied him blankets and threatened to tie him naked to a chair.

Am I the only person who doesn't have a problem with this? I mean, here is a guy who has made millions by getting teenage girls drunk and videotaping them having sex. I'm shocked that the government has only managed to nail him for tax evasion...well, not that shocked, but that's not my point. My point is, the only difference between Joe Francis and a common sex offender is that Francis turned it into a business strategy.

He started out with a cheap camcorder at Mardi Gras, where he didn't have to pay the girls flashing their tits, not to mention check their ages. Those breasts were essentially public domain, which gave his startup business the benefit of low overhead. With the money he got from the proceeds of that first tape, he got a bus, started sponsoring parties at colleges, and somehow managed to convince hundreds of women that getting naked is a good way to make money.

Don't get me wrong, I like-a da porn, but every time I see clips from Girls Gone Wild, it just makes me sad. Francis can now afford high-def camera equipment, which (to me at least) can pick up the smells of vodka and Red Bull on the girls' breath, the cheap cologne and greasy hair on the cameraman, as well as the emptiness of the souls of everyone involved.

Let's face facts: How pathetic of an operation does one man have to run that bringing in Snoop Dogg as a host is supposed to make it seem more legit?

Just look at his mug shot, which is second only to Tom DeLay's in the Most Smug Douchebag category. The look on his face has slap-on-the-wrists written all over it. And now, he's claiming the guards were mean to him. Boo fucking hoo. This guy deserves much worse than what the guards could have threatened him with. Personally, I wouldn't bat an eyelash at the news that he died from complications from a particularly rough prison gang-rape. That, in combination with all of his millions forced to be donated to women's shelters, would be justice in my opinion.

10 misconceptions one may have about me if they judged their opinions solely on the spam emails I receive on a daily basis

1. My breasts are not as large as I want them to be.

2. I have trouble achieving an erection.

3. I'm paying way too much for name brand software.

4. I'm not properly invested and need to diversify my portfolio.*

5. My girlfriend is not pleased with the size of my penis.*

6. I have difficulty scoring high grade weed.

7. I really like watching drunk teen girls make out.*

8. Foreign government officials often seek out my help with moving their money to a safe location.

9. Companies trust me to test out their products for free.

10. I've had trouble with internet dating sites in the past.*


* To be fair, this may not be far from the truth.

The show is on!

I got the call from the gallery owners and we now have a date for the Personality of Cult Art Show! February 8 through March 30, 2008. The opening ceremony will be held the evening of February 7th. More on this as it develops.

Beowulf

I'll try to be brief: If you go see Beowulf, don't fuck around. Go see it in 3-D, preferably in IMAX 3-D.

I've been waiting since 9th grade English class for this movie. Looking back on it now, the epic poem was a chore and a half to read, but well worth it when I finished. I re-read it a few years ago with a different, more reader-friendly translation and fell in love with it again. When I heard that the movie was coming out, I started to read it again, but instead decided to keep my mind somewhat fresh for the film. It was a wise choice on my part.

The technology involved with this movie has come a long way since the Polar Express, and truth be told, I do think they could've waited a couple extra years and let the technology advance just a bit further. But all in all, it is still a massive achievement that blew me away. Which was no small feat considering the ticket lady somehow sold me a ticket for yesterday, the projector broke fifteen minutes in and some jackass set off the exit alarm halfway through. In most instances, that would have sent me into a grand mal seizure of a conniption fit, but the movie more than made up for it.

It took a few minutes to adjust back to reality after this film, not just because of the 3-D effects, but the world that was created for the film. I've been home for almost an hour, and I'm still craving some fire-roasted pork and a stein of mead. Speaking of which, I need to eat some dinner.

Work

The art show ball is rolling, and I'm trying to keep up with the pace. The further along we get on this, I realize how much more has to be done, and I'm amazed by how well I'm handling it all. A few years ago, I'd be shitting a brick right about now. But the me of today has no hardened clay in his bowels.

Last week, my boss got his classic stereo (complete with turntable) all fixed up and hooked up at the office. While testing it out, he turned it up to level two and you could feel the bass pounding your chest in the next room. Friday, after work, we all enjoyed some old school rock tunes while we had our end of the week frosty beverages. It was awesome.

Today, he wired up the office intercom speakers to the auxiliary output on the stereo. Those things haven't been plugged in for years, and the little knobs in each of our offices that have been a mystery all that time finally had a purpose: controlling volume. He switched it over to the classical radio station and walked around to check all of the speakers in the building.

This was just a test to see how well they worked, but everyone in the office all had the same question on their minds: "Are we all gonna have to listen to this stuff all the time now?" Of course not, but the classical music reminded me of that one scene in the Shawshank Redemption, and I was a little bit disheartened by the comparison of job to prison.

Things will be thankfully slowing down for the fall very soon, and I'm looking forward to a slow week.

Illness, vacuuming, art shows, and Biff

I'm getting sick of being sick, but the good news is that everything is exiting the sinuses, moving down to the lungs and solidifying into manageable chunks to hack up. Pretty sad that this is good news. The big problem now is how sore my chest is getting coughing all that stuff up. Another day or two and I should be back to 100% efficiency.

So, how's everything else? Well, work has been a lot of fun on the cold medicine, but I'm getting a lot of stuff done. I almost called in sick today, but I wisely decided to go in. Enough people at work have been calling in sick, leaving a lot of work for the rest of us to take care of in their absence. Besides, with there being only me in the art department, it would create quite a logjam, and I'm lucky enough to be one of the only people at the office who does all of his work at a desk. Another benefit of being alone there, I'm not annoying everyone with my coughing, blowing my nose and the thick stench of VapoRub.

Yesterday, my boss asked me to take a few minutes and clean up my office. I've been meaning to do it for months, but being sick and using a fifteen year old vacuum cleaner in a closed space probably wasn't such a great idea.

In other news, This past week, I ramped up efforts to organize my cult classic art show. Much to my surprise, Over the past two days, I've nearly quadrupled my number of entries. This thing is gonna be fun. I'm pretty much signing people up for this sight unseen as far as their artistic abilities are concerned. But, their enthusiasm is outstanding. And the range of mediums is gonna provide for an interesting show. We'll have oils, acrylics, ceramics, pencil, mixed media, digital illustration, etc. This is starting to shape up into something really cool.

I have had to urge people into some different directions. The gallery space I'm hoping for has some stipulations as far as content is concerned. They want us to keep the violence, sexuality and drug use to a minimum. Might be tricky with such films as Boondock Saints, Evil Dead, Blue Velvet, Friday and Secretary. Some of the solutions for these issues are nothing short of brilliant. More on this as it develops.

Lastly, I was watching my DVRed episode of House, and one of the guest stars was Tom Wilson...Biff from Back to the Future. I found it kinda funny how eerily accurate the old age makeup in that film has proved to be. He wasn't a big player in this episode, but he was there enough to make me want to watch BTTF again real soon.

Blech

It's 4:30 in the morning. My head has been wrapped up in a towel over a steaming cup of tea for the past fifteen minutes in hopes that my sinuses will at least entertain the idea of draining, instead of slowly wedge the snot from one side of my head to the other, depending on what position my head is in. I just want to salvage a couple hours of sleep, damn it!

Bad life lessons from video games I had to learn the hard way

When strapped for cash, don't jump on a turtle.

Just touching a door with a key does not magically open it.

When a powerful warlord from the tenth level of hell challenges you to a fight, it's not a best two out of three situation.

Eating a flower does not grant you the power to shoot fireballs. Likewise, holding a feather does not turn you into a flying raccoon.

Gobbling floating keys, cherries or pretzels are not a good idea.

Ostriches are not a good mode of air transport, or on the ground for that matter.

When firing a plasma gun that's as big as you are, beware of the recoil.

You walk around the forest wielding a sword and dressed in green tights, and the townsfolk will never let you live it down.

Dry-clicking your gun just out of your field of vision does not reload it.

When you kill a ninja, their bodies don't disappear.

If giant blocks are falling from the sky, don't try to stack them.

Jumping on top of an alligator's head is never a good idea, whether mouth is open or not.

A broken rung on a ladder doesn't mean it's impossible to climb.

It's advisable to always run away from the giant gorilla throwing barrels at you, not towards it.

If you save a princess, odds are she's just gonna find herself in peril again someday.

Jumping on a series of cubes stacked in a pyramid does not change their colors.

German historical sites are not good places to wildly fire firearms, and Hitler was not brought back as a cyborg.

Even if you are able to launch yourself a quarter mile on a skateboard, the landing is never what a reasonable man would consider smooth.

With many of today's advances in medical technology, one can go anywhere they want in a covered wagon, and never run the risk of dying of dysentery.

Playing tennis with a large, rectangular block is harder than it looks.

Buying all your necessary items with gold coins is really impractical.

When carrying around a fairy on a jar, remember to poke holes in the top. They can't save your life if they're dead.

Depending on the source, green potion is not a good chaser for red potion.

Centipedes and aliens tend to move in all directions, not down, reverse direction, down, reverse direction, etc.

Alien overlords respond better to diplomacy than a positron blaster.

Giant bullets travel much faster in real life.

Hedgehogs don't travel any faster rolled up in a ball.

You won't get very far in life playing the drums, the bongos or dancing exactly like you've been told to.

You're more likely to be injured or killed in combat if you keep stopping to recite "Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, B, A, Select, Start."

Hello NyQuil, my old friend

I am officially sick for the first and-God willing-only time this season. I just took a big shot of my private reserve, pre-pseudoephedrine-regulation-laws red-cherry-death-flavored NyQuil, and I'm waiting for it to work its warm, fuzzy magic. Soon, I'll be in bed, wrapped up in my blankets like a burrito and dreaming myself some tremulous dreams.

It all makes me think about all those people who throughout history has ruined it for the rest of us. Because someone put a razor blade in a candy apple at Halloween, we're all left with pre-packaged candy. Because this one horny, diseased guy hopped a flight out of Haiti back in the seventies, sex now carries the risk of slow death. Because someone spiked Tylenol with cyanide, we have safety seals and childproof caps that are impossible to open in the midst of a monster tension headache. And today, because of the meth addicts, NyQuil no longer has the ingredient that gave it all of its wonderful power.

I lucked out and found a three pack of the good stuff before it got pulled from the shelves a couple years ago. I just cracked open the second bottle in the pack. I'm awfully protective of my stash of this stuff. I'm not even sure I'd offer it to a friend in need...even if they looked like an extra from Dawn of the Dead. It's mine, and anyone looking to take it away from me might have a Road Warrior style fight on their hands. It's mine! My precious!

This is America! I should be able to get the good shit when I need it, God dammit! If a bunch of meth addicts want to use it to get their fix and potentially blow themselves up in the process of cooking it up, so fucking be it! Just because our leadership has problems with the teachings of Charles Darwin doesn't mean he was wrong about the whole survival of the fittest stuff! Why punish the rest of us who might actually be sick and need to be able to sleep through it like a hibernating bear? Why else do you think I keep this thick layer of body fat at all times?

Of course, I may feel different about all this if I wasn't feeling so sick at the moment. But, you gotta understand that NyQuil should always remain the nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, how the hell did I wake up on my kitchen floor? medicine. We sick consumers shouldn't have to compromise because of a few misguided tweakers.

Last year, while at my parent's house for the holidays, I was feeling pretty sick. I took some of the newer , weaker NyQuil. After two hours of tossing and turning, I had to chase it with a Tylenol PM, just so I could get some fucking sleep. And to top things off, I felt like shit in the morning. I actually reached a point where I was willing to skip the holidays with my family and drive the four hours back to Tulsa just to get some of the good stuff in my medicine cabinet.

Note to Vicks: Please package the new NyQuil with a huge, cartoon-style mallet with instructions to keep hitting our heads until the tweety birds appear.

I could go on, but this stuff is starting to kick in, and a seven foot tall Care Bear is critiquing my grammar. I keep trying to shoot fireballs at him, but the bastard won't let up with his constant nagging. Plus, the unicorn on my shoulder is requesting music I don't feel like listening to...and the wombat in the corner keeps staring at me and it's really starting to freak me out. A bright beam of light is illuminating the way to my bed. And now, it's sleepy burrito time.

See you on the other side, folks!

At least I still got my health...sorta

Yesterday, I lost my temper at work and punched the wall on my way back to my office. Well, not so much punch as slammed my palm against the wall. And by "the wall", I mean I miscalculated the distance and hit the metal door jamb. It hurt like a motherfucker.

And it still hurts. I've got a huge bruise right on the ball of my right palm. I've got it all wrapped up pretty tight in an Ace bandage, and it's not so much easing the pain as it is limiting my mobility to keep me from moving it to the point it hurts. The good news is, it's not effecting my work, except when I use the space bar when I type. An occupational hazard for both a typesetter and a blogger. So, I'll be brief.

In addition to my injury, I'm starting to get sick. Sneezing, itchy throat, ears filling up, the whole shebang. Just in time for the weekend!

Tonight is Arnie's Bar night, and I'm off to self-medicate.

Weekend Update

Friday

My boss grilled burgers and brats for everyone, and it's pretty amazing how productive I can be after stuffing myself to the gills with grilled meat. I had started out the day with a rack of work, and while I didn't get it all done by the end of the day, I left a very manageable amount for Monday morning.

I met some friends for a quick dinner at Umberto's, which is my new favorite pizza place. It's a pity they aren't open for breakfast...pizza joints are so far behind the curve on that million-dollar idea.

Later, we went to the Indie Imporium, a showcase for local folk artists. There was a really cool vibe at that show, with a wide range of styles and products on display. I'm determined to attend more exhibitions like this in an attempt to better connect with the art scene in this town. For so long, I've been doing my own thing and the vast majority of it for my day job. I've been slacking on keeping up with the latest trends out there for the sake of seeing it instead of my usual absorbing just enough to apply to my own work.

After the show, we headed over to Mary's to watch a movie. Her daughter Ivy is a huge Tim Burton fan, so we watched Corpse Bride. I had never seen it, and I really liked it. However, it left me wanting more. The film was much too short for my taste. Granted, there wasn't much more they could do with that story and elaborating any further probably would've made the film drag on, but it's the craftwork of the animation that amazes me.

One thing I kept noticing in the animation was something I've always found funny about human behavior: When you look someone in the eyes, you never really look at both eyes at once. People tend to shift back and forth between eyes. To see that kind of thing animated just killed me. I may not be alone in this, but I become hyper-aware when I find myself shifting from eye to eye, and find myself staring at the bridge of their nose...you know, just to split the difference. Occasionally, the other person subconsciously picks up on it and scratches their nose. Try it sometime, it's kinda freaky.

Saturday

I slept in until about eleven, got dressed and went out to find a Halloween costume. I was thinking about going as a mime, but too much of a costume like that is all about staying in character. I decided to make that my default; if I couldn't find anything else, I'd go as a mime. I looked around this one costume shop and didn't find anything that really spoke to me until I found a little wooden cane. Then, the light bulb went off: Old man Fritschie. I bought the cane, some white hair spray and some spirit gum to glue some wrinkles shut on my face.

I met some friends down on Brookside to watch the parade. I parked at one end of the parade route, they parked at the other end. I met them halfway. They were all on bicycles, so when they wanted to ride somewhere, I had to hoof it. We met back up down my where I parked, then back where we first met, then decided to leave the parade.

So, I had to walk back to my truck and meet back up with them back where they parked. About a minute after we split up, I heard some tires squeeling and turned around to find a jackass in a green Pontiac convertible threatening to get out of his car because my friends weren't giving him enough room to drive through. I ran over there as fast as I could, but they guy was peeling out just as I was getting close. Like I could've done anything if I had been there (got trouble? Send the pacifist.), but it was a noble gesture nonetheless.

I walked back to my truck and quickly realized that my rock star parking job came at a price. I was at the end of the parade route, and in trying to leave, I had to stalk behind the junior ROTC for the last half mile of their route. Once they reached their van, they just stood around. While I'm glad these kids are learning discipline with this group, I just wish they would learn to recognize when a big pickup truck is trying to get around them.

After weaving around the clusterfuck of parked cars through the neighborhood, I met back up with my friends and had lunch. A good time was had by all, and I got home with plenty of time to try a couple of makeup tests before heading to the first party.

The makeup looked good, even though half of my face was glued in some way and facial expressions required special care or else it felt like a bandaid was being ripped off all over the surface of my face. In order to get to the character of an old man, I drove to the first party really slow, listening to Garrison Keiller and with the turn signal on the whole way. The rest was a perfect synthesis of my mood and the character. I could sit down for the whole night, say the craziest shit that came to my mind, even fall asleep, and it was perfectly within the character of a senile old man.

I went to the second party and finished up the night there. I think I had two beers over the course of the night. I wasn't in the mood to get drunk, nor was I looking to do anything other than just hang out. I've learned not to try to get laid on Halloween, even when you're with someone. I mean, I'm all for role-playing, but this is totally different. The last time I got laid on Halloween I was in a relationship, and I couldn't get over the fact that, in essence, Shaggy and Velma was having sex.

So, at one point in the evening, the fire pit was surrounded my Little Red Riding Hood, the Unabomber, the Pharoah and his queen, Smurfette, Dwight from the Office, a cowboy and an old man. Gotta love Halloween!

Sunday

Slept in again, and had to get my ass in gear for yet another pumpkin carving party. I stopped by the store, got supplies and headed over to Mary's where we hung out, carved pumpkins and watched a (you guessed it, Tim Burton marathon. I love hanging out with this crowd because when it come to food, they never fuck around. I wouldn't be surprised if the Food Network is the default channel on everyone's cable box. We all had some really kick-ass enchilada soup and red velvet cake for dessert. I could get used to this warm, fuzzy, stuffed feeling.

So now, I'm back home. I'm full, ready for some couch time, my face is still pretty raw from removing the makeup from last night, and despite having washed my hair about six times, that white hair spray is still in there to some degree. All in all, I'm doing great.

I do not fear death, unless it's anything like this

More than our daily allotted dose of insanity from Glenn Beck

Okay, there's no room for speculation anymore. It's official: Glenn Beck is a huge asshole.

There are two surefire ways to be an asshole in my book. The first is to be an unapologetic asshole; to be a truly horrible person and actually have the balls to be proud about it. The second is to do or say something absolutely asinine and so counter to the principle of human decency, but do it under the guise of an attempt to being a decent person.

Here's what confirmed asshole Glenn Beck had to say on his radio show yesterday:

"When I say on the air, and I've said it a lot lately, that we need to come together and we need to get back into the center, we're being pushed on to the edges -- I want you to understand, that is not on policies. I don't mean that we come in the center on policies. We come to the center on principles. We come back to the center of the melting pot, that we're all one America, that just because I disagree with you doesn't mean you hate America, and I love America. We all love America. We just disagree on how we should function, what we should do, big government, small government. It doesn't mean you hate America. I think there is a handful of people who hate America. Unfortunately for them, a lot of them are losing their homes in a forest fire today."

Holy. Shit.

You know, if you ignore what he's actually saying, and just focus on how he structures the tone of that paragraph, it still boggles the fucking mind that this guy remains employed. It starts off rather noble, as if he's reaching out to those who he has disagreed with in the past and offering them an olive branch. The middle sounds like he's almost willing to reach a civilized common ground and provide a dialog for real change in our society. Then, he grabs the wheel and steers right off the edge of the cliff, landing himself back into Batshitcrazytown!

In one paragraph, he almost tricked me into wanting to listen to what he had to say, then reminded me why he should never be taken seriously ever again. The truly fucked up thing is, this is only gonna be the tip of the iceberg. If you look at the past statements of other far-right political commentators like Beck, you know that the only way this guy will ever sustain his career is by going further and further each time. Who knows, maybe for Black History Month, he might put a laugh track on Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech! Or maybe quote Ghandi, then finish it all up by announcing his intent to rape your grandmother.

I can't help but think that Ann Coulter is sitting at her keyboard right now desperately trying to write something more outrageous than Becks statement...she's gotta reclaim her crown as king of Batshitcrazytown.

Yeah, people are dying, and most others are losing everything they own in a horrible wildfire that is engulfing most of the region, and to top it all off, its all because they hate America. This begs the question: What the fuck happened to Glenn Beck during his last visit to San Diego that led him to even entertain this notion? Was he mugged and beaten after a whale at Sea World puked on him during a five-hour delay at the airport?

An interesting side effect of these kinds of statements is that whatever agencies are offering aid for these people in need experience a surge in donations. People donated more for Katrina relief after the Christian right made their claims that New Orleans was a den of sin and deserved the wrath God wrought upon it. The same with the San Francisco earthquake. 9/11 funds got a boost from Pat Robertson's statements that we deserved it. Hell, even PBS got a small surge in donations after Jerry Falwell claimed that Tinky-Winky from the Telletubbies was gay propaganda.

The point is, people somehow are compelled to help out when these kind of irrational statements are made. It's compassion through spite of our most famous hatemongers. The truly fucked-up part is, Glenn Beck chalks it all up to liberal guilt.

Weekend Update

Friday night was spent decompressing and doing a little bit of cleaning. There's still a lot more to do, but I'm past the halfway point on the cleaning front.

Most of Saturday was spent in bed. Over the past few years being able to sleep in has been hit or miss. This particular Saturday, it was a hit. I think I finally rolled out of bed around 1:30 in the afternoon. It was probably a little too much sleep because I couldn't full wake up until about five.

Saturday night was a blast. The evening started out at the Spot Awards at the Cain's Ballroom. Three Penny Upright was nominated for Best None of the Above, and we stayed there just long enough to see them lose out to Citizen Mundi.

So, we were off to the Continental to catch Eye Candy Burlesque (their one year anniversary party) and the Oh Johnny Girls (bought a CD, flirted with the lead singer). The whole night was a reminder how interconnected people are in this town. I've known Mary and Amy of Three Penny Upright for years. They're great friends with the women of Eye Candy. Eye Candy's great friend and frequent vocalist is dating an old college buddy of mine. We all shared a booth front and center for the show.

The Oh Johnny Girls' talent is only outdone by their complete and utter hotness. At one point, I leaned over to my friend Steve and asked, "Is there anything sexier than a woman playing an electric guitar?" True to his nature of one-upsmanship and answering rhetorical questions, he responded, "Yeah, a girl playing the bass." I got to talk to the lead singer a few times over the night, and she kept flirting with me even after I bought a CD, which was a real boost for my ego.

Eye Candy was awesome as usual. These women are enough to keep me from ever wanting to see the inside of a strip club ever again. They are resurrecting an art form that has, for decades, been cheapened by fire poles, bad lighting, and every Bob Seger song ever recorded. They understand, and deliver, exactly what a show like this should be: colorful characters, a great command of the audience, empowerment, and above all else, class.

And the best part is that the audience is respectful in every way. At a strip club, if you try to approach the strippers after their set, it's highly likely at least one of three things will happen to you: a side bar with the bouncer, you will leave with an empty wallet, or you feel like you need a shot of penicillin. With a burlesque show of this caliber, the girls are in total command of the audience on stage and off. They are approachable, gracious and cordial. Not an ounce of pretension about them. However, it was rather intimidating speaking to one of them after the show. I was finding it hard not to blush. After all, here was an immensely beautiful woman who just tightened the pants of every man in the room, and she was spoke so down-to-earth about it all...even sharing her embarrassment at forgetting one small part in the finale.

The part that she had forgotten was to fling playing cards at the audience. I felt compelled to let her know that at their last show, I swiped one of the playing cards, and this time I took another, that I hope they continue to perform so that I can complete the whole deck of cards. Of course, I hope that came off as incredibly charming as I hoped it did based on her reaction: a big beaming smile. I tabbed out at the bar and went home feeling like a million bucks.

Today, I had two pumpkin-carving parties to go to. It's been nearly 19 years since I carved a pumpkin, and I carved four tonight to make up for the lost time. The first was a big smiley face that wound up looking like Ernie from Sesame Street. The second was a little more artsy, with a peeled skin circle and a malcontent look on it's face...I named it Herman. The third was the party animal, Eddie, with sculpted teeth in a wide open-mouth grimace. The fourth was a deconstructive number made from randomly cutting a pumpkin apart and re-assembling it with toothpicks.

So, now I'm back home, smelling of pumpkin, and ready to go to bed.

Darkness

Wednesday night, I was finally gonna take a friend's advice and check out the new show Pushing Daisies. At the time of my conversation with my friend, a storm was rolling into town and he just got a call from his wife that the electricity was out. So, I offered to tape it for him.

Just before the show was to start, the wind outside started blowing so hard that it was whipping the trees in front of my building against the windows. I opened the blinds to watch the trees outside, and after about ten seconds I realized that was a stupid thing to do. The window didn't break, but I would've felt really dumb if it had with me standing with my face ten inches from the glass.

So, I sat down to watch the show. It was damn good, for the first ten minutes. That's when the power went out. I fumbled around in the closet by the light of my cell phone screen, trying to find the flashlight. For the first hour without power, I succumbed to boredom and watched the cat chase the light around the floor.

One of my neighbors was outside my window. We chatted for a bit, with him letting me know that apparently our building was on the edge of the electrical grid. People across the street had power, but we didn't. He also informed me of an incident across the river at Octoberfest. The strong winds had blown down a couple of the huge tents, and several people got injured. I remember commenting, "those poor bastards."

After my neighbor went back inside, I had more boredom time with the flashlight pretending to be a CSI and my apartment was a crime scene. That lasted a few minutes before becoming really, really depressing. If my apartment was ever to be a crime scene, professional investigators would have a field day trying to figure out what happened. So, I went down to Borders for a bit and got caught up on my magazines.

I got back home and the power was still out. So, I got into bed and read a book to the warm glow of mini Mag-lite. The book: Children of Men. In retrospect, maybe I should've picked something a little happier. Reading about a bleak future where the human race is doomed, while you're laying in the dark, made for some really fucked-up dreams.

Thursday morning, I got to talking to my boss about what happened at Octoberfest. As it turns out, he was one of the poor bastards that got injured. It was just a bump on the head and a small gash on his arm, but still... However, it was interesting to hear him tell the story. He made the words "And I pushed my wife to the ground and told her to stay down" and make it sound so heroic.

So, my electricity was back on in the morning, and fortunately all of the fresh groceries in the fridge survived. The funny thing is, Wednesday night was the night I was gonna finally do all the dishes and finish cleaning up after my party last Saturday. Kinda hard to do in the dark. Thursday night, I was just too damn tired, and tonight, I'm just too lazy.

Oh, well, there's always tomorrow.

Nothing new to report.

Every once and a while, my life hits a level of neutral buoyancy. I'm not soaring to the stratosphere, but I'm not sinking to the bottom of the abyss, either.

Things at work slow down, drama in my personal life is at a more than manageable level and most of the things that cause me worry have already been taken care of, or are on auto-pilot. It's at times like these that I tend to go into obsessive compulsive mode...constantly checking and rechecking things to make sure I'm not forgetting anything.

You know what I've found? Nothing. All my bills are paid. I'm caught up on my sleep. My work's getting done every day. All of my friends are there for me. Everything's good right now. Sure, there's some cleaning that needs to be done around here, but I've seen this place a lot worse, so there's no rush. Fritschie, sit back and relax.

The shocking thing is, I am sitting back and relaxing. I'm oddly at peace with the world and vice versa. Any news that comes my way next, good or bad, I'm certain I can handle with a level head and steady hand. My options right now are wide open and God knows I'm not in any rush.

The problem with this state of mind is, the blog suffers. I've got no frustrations to vent. There are no problems to sort out. There's no ennui to pine about. Right now, all my basic needs are being met. Food, shelter, clothing, human interaction, and (thanks to overestimating the demand for refreshments at my party on Saturday) I've got enough alcohol in my fridge to ensure that my furniture remains extra-comfortable in my off-duty hours.

However, for the sake of keeping this blog fairly up-to-date, I'm resorting to stream of consciousness writing. I gotta admit, though...it's harder to do without my normal thousand thoughts rattling around in my brain and that bottle of tension headache medication going unopened for more than a day. So, enough with writing about what boils down to a period of non-events in my life and, in turn, boring the reader. I'm going to bed early.

More random thoughts

I read today that Simon Pegg from Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz will be playing young Scotty in the new Star Trek movie.

If Paul McCartney dies before Ringo Starr, then we truly will have lost all of the Beatles in the exact opposite order than we rightfully should have.

I will never again play one of the specialty versions of Monopoly. No matter what version it is, I'll always call the properties by their original names.

The fact that someone still cares about what Britney Spears is doing is the reason the aliens haven't landed and shared their knowledge and wisdom with us.

Internet porn stopped being about sex years ago. Now, it's just a bunch of exhibitionists trying to one-up each other on the shock factor.

Calling Ann Coulter an expert political commentator is like calling Willy Wonka a nutritionist.

I read a news article recently claiming that Crocs shoes are dangerous on escalators, causing them to get caught and causing serious injury to the wearer's feet. As much as I like this to be a profound statement about those ugly-ass things possibly crippling the trendy assholes at the mall who wear them, it can't be. The way the world works, this won't stop people from wearing them. Instead, they'll find a way to make limping the next big thing.

I think I've finally reached the age where seeing Princess Leia in the gold bikini slave outfit does absolutely nothing for me.

I wonder what the Vatican's official position is on the word Jeebus. Is it a curse word, or does it fall into the same category as dang or shoot?

Al Gore wins an Oscar and the Nobel Peace Prize in one year. George Bush has had at least ten documentaries made about his incompetence and has started two wars in the past six years. I'm all for proof of balance in the universe, but this is a bit ridiculous.

I used to believe that we should be allowed to carry around rubber stamps that read "This person is an idiot" to be used on the foreheads of stupid people, but I've changed my mind on that. It really should be a branding iron.

I'm glad the writers of Grey's Anatomy are finally getting on with the storyline. If I hade to sit through one more episode where George wasn't gonna tell Callie the truth, I was gonna shoot the TV.

I often wonder what I'd look like at my ideal body weight. But those kind of thoughts only remind me there's pudding cups in the fridge.

We all have short attention spans hardwired into our DNA. Every single one of us learns how to play dominoes, yet every one of us instinctually wants to place them on end and make interesting patterns in which to topple. If it weren't for this instinct, we would never have the phrase "domino effect".

I miss the Muppet Show.

100,000

I was getting back from lunch today, and just as I reached the parking lot, the truck's mileage hit 99,999.9 miles. I pulled into my parking space, backed up and pulled forward about five times to bump that sucker to an even 100,000.

Fairly sad that this was one of the high points of my day.

Gotta do something

On his first week on the job, an old friend of mine made a costly mistake. Being new to the job, he was sure he'd be fired, so he tried to make a preemptive strike and resign. His boss wouldn't accept it, telling him that he wouldn't let him quit after having just spent so much money teaching him an important lesson.

We fall. We pick ourselves up. That's simple logic. I've fallen many times in my life and I'm thankful that They've all been from fairly short heights...if you look at the big picture. That hasn't stopped me from bullshitting myself into thinking it's worse than it actually was. Sound and fury signifying nothing.

I got to thinking today about some of the mistakes I've made in my life, and I'm left uncertain on most of them. Have I just been that good at assessing the potential risks and steering clear of them? Have I just been that bad at taking the bigger risks for fear of failing? Or, have I just been lucky?

The only conclusion I've come to is that I tend to take the safe route. Even when I've failed, I've done what's expected of me, what's been recommended to me or what I've seen others do with success. The only times I've never allowed myself to be talked out of a risky situation is when I've been absolutely certain I was right, and my motivation in that situation has been simply to piss off my detractors. Of course, that last category has been been a pretty small wedge on the pie chart that is my life.

I'm not suggesting that I should try cranking the knob to eleven on the risk-o-meter. There are no fight clubs or project mayhems in my future because I bruise easily and my insurance rates are high enough as it is. I'm not gonna quit my job, leave my life behind and walk the earth because, let's face it, I'd get winded before I reach the end of the block and be bitching about the foot blisters for a week and a half. However, leading an altogether safe life can get pretty fucking boring after a while.

I guess after the camping trip this past weekend and the good vibes I felt in that experience, I'm left wanting a bit more than I've been giving myself lately. I returned home from that trip exhausted and dirty as hell, but spiritually I felt like a million bucks. Looking back on it all, I didn't risk much. Sure, I spent a little more money than I had planned on supplies, killed more than a few brain cells with whiskey, not to mention wrenched my back a bit sleeping on that lumpy ground...but if I hadn't gone, I probably would've spent most of that time on my ass watching TV. I went because an opportunity presented itself to do something I hadn't done in years. It was a limited time offer and I'm glad I took advantage.

I need to be more impulsive like that, because in the months (okay, years) leading up to last weekend, most of my impulsive nature has been limited to the bargain DVD rack at Target. the video games at the laundromat and the super-size option at that drive-thru. One of the things I came to realize during my trip was that I may not need to ramp up my impulsiveness, but rather re-channel it into more fruitful pursuits.

Unfortunately, my mind's drawing a blank on what I could do to that effect. Apparently, mediocrity is a tough habit to break.

Cold, rainy, muddy comfort

I've reached the beginning of the end of my latest little funk, and all it took was calling up a friend Mary and saying the words "Fritschie bored."

And not a moment too soon. She was getting ready to head to Guthrie for the bluegrass festival, and without missing a beat, she instructed me to fill an ice chest with beer and snacks, pack a change of clothes and some camping supplies, and be ready to be picked up in about an hour.

I did as I was told, left Chuckles an extra scoop of food and we headed out to Guthrie. Acting entirely on impulse, it turned out to be just the thing I needed to recharge my batteries and get away from my life, if only for a day.

In addition to the thrill of acting on a wild impulse, I wound up being a great surprise to our friends who were already at the festival. We wound up not even going to the festival and instead just hanging around the campsite, having fun, eating good food and making friends with our camp neighbors. We all split a bottle of whiskey, got completely lit, and had a great time. For the first time in almost two weeks, I was genuinely happy.

It rained most of the night, but that never slowed us down or dampened our mood. Our neighbors had a huge tent set up and everyone had their instruments out playing anything that came to their minds. I got to sit outside the tent, let the rain mist all over me, the heat from the campfire at my back, and I was able to get completely lost and sort out everything in my head.

I came to realize that all of the changes I've been trying to make in my life, all those little things that have become much bigger than anticipated, all those big plans I've started to initiate need some revision. In my mind, I had everything laid out in front of me, and patterns started to flash before me like in A Beautiful Mind. I finally got a clear view of everything that's been done half-assed, over-done, and gone about completely the wrong way. And unlike A Beautiful Mind, I was left with absolutely no paranoia.

Patience is the key to everything working out. It's as if the engine had stalled and I got out to push, never even thinking to try the ignition again. Everything that's been bugging me melted away completely, and my mind was clear at last.

And the experience of camping tested my newfound faith. Everything at the camp was drenched, my loosely defined two-man tent on lumpy ground provided me with little sleep and much discomfort, and the negative effects of the whiskey wasn't enough to erase the good vibes I inside. I got up at dawn, sat outside in a wet lounge chair and watched the sun come up. Not once during this trip did I unpack my camera. All that I experienced was right there in my memory where it belonged and I needed no pictures to remind me of them.

The drive back Mary and I talked about anything and everything, listened to some great music, and enjoyed the rest of our trip. I commented at one point that my clothes reeked of dirt, rain, sweat and campfire smoke and I didn't give a rat's ass about it. I was greeted at home by a lonely and tuna deprived Chuckles and I promptly took a much deserved shower.

Now, I'm heading to a warm bed for a restful night's sleep and feeling ready to again take on the life I left behind for a day.

Thursday night drunken rant

Tonight was the first time I've felt close to normal in the past ten or so days. The sad part is that alcohol was involved.

Today was frustrating to say the least. I went back and forth today with a client on the east coast about some files that I sent her. The thing is that I send her the files the same way every time, but somehow they wouldn't work on her computer today. All signs pointed to a problem with her computer, but in the true ironic nature of the universe, the files worked just fine if I sent them to my boss first and had him forward them along to her. Just my luck, just when I start to feel vindicated, it turns out the problem is my fault.

Ive also had other things happen to me along the same lines, but I won't get into them here until the sense of impending doom possibly becomes a full-blown reality. As mentioned in the last post, even if the worst-case scenario comes to fruition, everything will be alright in the long run. Suffice to say that I apparently lack the emotional energy and the bargaining power needed to prevent what I think will happen. More on this as it develops.

As for the immediate future, my boss will be leaving early tomorrow, so I'm at least assured a quiet end to my work week, followed by a weekend off. Perhaps some pampering is in order, but who knows...maybe just some rest will do the trick.

Putting my finger somewhere near the vicinity of the problem

I gotta say, depression has gotten a little easier for me over the past couple years.

I never know what will bring it on. Most times, it hits without warning. I may wake up one morning and not want to have anything to do with the world outside the window. Some times, outside stimuli would trigger my depression, but even then it may just be a bad event coinciding with how my mood was gonna be anyway.

Once it hits, theres not much I can do but ride it out. There's never been one tried and true cure for my depression. What works one time doesn't work the next time. Sort of like an emotional cold sore. All I do know is what I shouldn't do. When I get like this, I don't listen to NPR for more than an hour a day...or read anything by Tom Wolfe or John Irving...or make any major purchases.

It used to be that whenever one of my funks came around, which tend to come around about once a year or so, it would be compounded by the problems in my life. Work would be hectic, creditors would be hot on my heels and relationships would be strained. Right now, work is slowing down for the fall, I'm out of debt, and my friends are being really supportive. I used to suffer from a complete loss of hope, but now, I'm able to maintain a level of calm knowing that even if the worst case scenerio in my head comes true, I'm at least gonna come out of it OK.

I also can rest on the notion that none of my depressions in the past six years have lasted more than two weeks. I'm on day eight on this ebb. Granted, I'm only counting the past six years because the depression I suffered six years ago lasted nearly ten months, but that was because a lot of shit went down (bad breakup, family issues, massive debt, near crippling loneliness, etc.). About the worst I got going for me at this moment is a struggle with nicotine addiction. Big fucking deal by comparison. Ordinarily, I'd use the blog to chronicle my frustrations with quitting smoking, but I wouldn't want to risk my friend Seth commenting with the "I sucked dick for cocaine!" quote from Half Baked.

I learned long ago that my problems are just that. My problems. And there are problems that you can share with others to get the support you need, there are problems that make you sound like a whiny little bitch, and there are problems that only make you more crazy trying to talk about them because you can't pinpoint them. I'm just stuck with the latter for now. The more I try to dig deeper to find what's getting me down, the more confused I get as to what the problem is.

I guess I've just got to ride it out. There's a feeling that something's missing, and all I can do is either wait for the problem to present itself with a solution, or eventually become insignificant in the big picture. Either way, finger's crossed.

A little down

Most areas in my life stayed at a neutral level this week, but emotionally, it's been a bit of a downer. It's not any one or any thing's fault that I've felt this way. I get in these funks every now and again. Looking back on my life, this depression is fairly mild. It's not one of my sit-in-a-dark-room-listening-to-Peter-Gabriel-nonstop kind of funks, but it's not something I've been able to shake off very easily, either. I've been able to function at work at my normal capacity and I've managed to get everything done that I've needed to, but I've had no desire to do much of what I normally want to do.

However, I've kinda forced myself to do most of those things I usually want to do, simply by virtue of the fact that they've been limited-time offers. For instance, tonight I'm going to the Circle Cinema to see Raising Arizona at the midnight movie. It's only there this weekend, and I don't want to pass up this opportunity to see it on the big screen. Also, it's been season premiere week, and I've made myself watch my shows because I was looking forward to watching them all summer.

Today was better than most days this week. I got to get away from the office and run a lot of deliveries for my boss. It felt good to break my normal routine and get to go outside for a few hours. And the best part is, it was in the company truck, with the company paying for the gas. I would've volunteered to take my truck, but it's been acting up a bit lately and actually broke down temporarily last night. It wound up being a small blockage in the fuel line, but in fixing that, a small leak in the transmission was discovered. I'll be able to get the truck into the shop next week, so in the meantime I'm just monitoring the fluid level and filling it when needed.

I had a huge laugh this afternoon when I stabbed my boss with a letter opener. He handed me a big box to carry for him, but I wasn't fully prepared for the handing over part, otherwise I'd have put down the letter opener first. He walked right into the tip of it, but he wasn't hurt (that letter opener couldn't even cut warm butter). The moment I realized what had happened, my first thought was, "Oh my God! Did I just inadvertently live out my greatest fantasy?" Fortunately, my boss laughed it off.

So now I'm home and surveying the filth that has accumulated in my apartment over the past few days. It's amazing how much this crap piles up when you're in no mood to do anything about it. Oh, well...weekend project, I suppose.

Caption Contest, we hardly knew ye

I got done with watching my TV shows last night and sat down to update the caption contest, when it dawned on me that I really don't have much of an interest in it anymore. Who knows, maybe the spark will return and the caption contest will come back sometime in the future. In the meantime, it's toast.

Here are the final two winners:

September 17th: CleverName with the caption: Lucy Van Pelt introduces her new "Block Head" line.

September 10th: Kimmy with the caption: "Special" Slip -n- Slide

Wednesday through Sunday

Wednesday was a pretty rough day at work. Not because of the workload, but because my boss and I had a huge argument first thing in the morning, which pretty much set my mood for the rest of the day. Strangely enough, being severely pissed off really increases my productivity, so all the work went by pretty fast. Any aggression left over at the end of the work day was burned up helping a friend move a piano to a bar downtown.

Thursday was fairly uneventful. Went to work, went home, went to Arnie's Bar. The rest I think I covered in the last post.

Friday was date night. Dinner at the Japanese steakhouse and drinks at a bar across the street. I caved on the no smoking thing. Big time. I smoked half a pack of Camels (regulars, not my usual lights). I wound up having only one beer over the course of the night, but I had the worst smoker's hangover I've ever had.

Most of the day Saturday was spent on the sofa, where I finished up the other half of that pack of smokes from Friday. The only time I got up was to go get groceries and attempt to find a new lazy Susan plate for my microwave. The last one got broken the other day, leaving me with a freezer full of microwave only food that now won't cook thoroughly.

Saturday night was the Assorted Jellies and Jams show at the Blank Slate, a burlesque revue that my friends Mary and Amy were playing in (playing music, that is, not the burlesque part). It was a great time. I even got to finally meet one of my Myspace friends for the first time in person. Gee, that only took a year.

I also got to enjoy hearing the piano I helped move earlier in the week. Good to know my driving didn't knock the sucker out of tune.

At the show, I heard two things I never thought I'd hear. The first came from a guy behind me during the first striptease. The lovely lady on stage, a professional in the art of burlesque, had just artfully removed her bustier, and had done her final tease to the crowd and lifted her arms in a TADAA! fashion. That's when the jackass behind me said, "Aw, man! They're wearing pasties!"

The other weird thing I heard was from my friend Mary. We were talking during the show, and she interrupted me to say "Hold that thought. You gotta watch this girl strip." How often does a man get to hear that sentence coming from a woman.

Which brings us to Sunday. Laundry, couch time, visiting friends and helping move the piano back.

Thursday night drunken rant

Tonight was the closest Ive come to wanting to swear off going to the bar. Ever since I quit smoking, its been increasingly difficult for me to be in a smoke filled room and not feel the need to contribute to the pollution. That's not really what sparked my lack of interest in going to the bar, though.

I've found that my fuse has gotten much shorter as a result of quitting smoking. It's not because I'm going through withdrawals so much as I'm not distracted from all the idiotic things going on around me by having a controlled flame in my hands practically every moment I'm in there.

Last Saturday I divided my time between Arnie's and McNellie's. Arnie's wasn't a problem for me because the bands were playing outside in the parking lot. The smoke would disperse in the night air to the point that it wasn't noticeable. McNellie's wasn't too bad because they have good ventilation, more room and fewer smokers.

However, I had to leave Arnie's earlier than usual tonight. My sense of smell coming back has been simultaneously a blessing and a curse because I smell what how disgusting that shit is and what the habit centers of my brain has been missing these past couple of weeks. I find myself not ever wanting to be one of them again at the same time I want to be their leader.

So, instead, I find myself quietly seething at the other things. The little things I was able to laugh off as part of what goes on at the bar but now really bug the shit out of me. For example...

Whenever I would work the door, I'd have people ask why we cover up the shuffleboard table when there's a band on the weekends. I used to tell them it was because the band needed the space on top to place their amps and guitar cases. The truth of the matter is we kept it covered so the band wouldn't be interrupted by the sounds of jerk-offs screaming their heads off when they make a good shuffleboard move. Jesus Christ on a cracker, calm the fuck down, will ya? When a grown man shrieks like a giddy schoolgirl after scoring three fucking points on a warped table, making it seem like this is the be all end all of all existence, it obviously means he needs to get laid, and his behavior is only hindering that prospect.

Also, any asshole who tried to carry three pitchers of beer across a crowed bar room has forfeited the right to complain when he spills half of it when people bump into him or vice versa. Tonight, I was sitting at my table, on my barstool, not moving at all. All of a sudden, Skippy McShops-At-American-Eagle bumps his Miller Lite carrying arm into my shoulder, spilling a good portion of it on the floor. He shot me a dirty look, as if it was my fault. Gee, I've barely moved for a half an hour, doing nothing other than quietly drink my beer and occupy the same space for that time. I guess I was overdue to obstruct someone from their task. I guess next time, I'll try to use the smell of Axe body spray coming closer and closer as an early warning system and try to get out of the way.

Lastly, I've come to accept the fact that if you're downtown, you're gonna get harassed by a bum at some point. Tonight happened to be a bad night for them, apparently. Usually, they are waiting when you're leaving the bar. The general rule is that if you reach your car before they can say anything, they would leave you alone. Kinda like a schoolyard game of tag and your car is base. Every once and a while, you get the aggressive ones, the ones who won't let you go until you've heard their entire life story. Tonight, I got one of the more annoying passive aggressive ones. The way my truck was parked, I could only go forward to get out of the parking lot. So this lady bum stood in front of my truck to ask me for money so she could get some food. Forgiving the fact that she was three miles from the nearest open restaurant, I told her my usual line about paying with a credit card in the bar. Ever determined, she asked if I had any food. No, I didn't. Could I give her a ride to the bus station? No. Still, she won't move from the front of my truck. She gets two words into her next question before I rev my engine a few times, flick on the headlights and reach for the gear shift. That seemed to get my message across.

I guess I'm hoping that this whole short fused temper and not give a shit about anyone attitude will pass with time. I used to be so much more tolerant.

Monday Night Caption Contest

Post your captions in the comment section below.

Here are mine for the week:

1. Be there or be square...well, why not both?

2. Apparently the Matrix's programming got corrupted by Q-Bert.


The winner of last week's contest will be announced next Monday.


September 3rd's winner is Anonymous with the caption "I was born in the year of the Snake...See? I had a Guinea Pig for lunch."

My brief time with the Scots

I made a small mistake this afternoon when I went down to the river parks for the Scottish Games. I forgot to stop by an ATM before I went there. I had just enough cash to pay for parking and admission, but only a couple bucks for anything else. I wasn't too concerned, because any festival in this area has the foresight to have one of the local banks set up a portable ATM on the grounds, right? Wrong.

I take a quick stroll around the festival, looking for the elusive ATM, and I found nothing. I decided to check with the information booth just to make sure I wasn't missing anything. Here's the gist of the conversation between me and the man and woman at the booth.

ME: Excuse me, is there an ATM around here?

MAN: I think the closest one is at the convenience store down the street.

ME: But, nothing on the festival grounds? All I got is my check card, which works for merchandise, but I wouldn't mind having a beer or two.

WOMAN: Sorry. Food and drink booths are cash only.

ME: Kinda my point. If they're cash only, wouldn't it make sense to have a cash distribution system in place at the festival? (big smile)

WOMAN: Maybe if we we a bigger festival, we would have one, but we don't. Sorry.

I was about to point out that elementary school carnivals even manage to have the Bank of Oklahoma ATM van parked outside, but it wasn't gonna change the fact that I was gonna have to leave, get cash and come back.

So I do just that, and come back to enjoy the rest of the festival. And considering they took a big hit financially due to poor attendance last year, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do at the festival this year.

I had a couple beers while I looked through all of the merchandise. I got me a minced meat pie (Scottish games after all), a Polish sausage (I'm German after all) and a large lemonade (and I'm addicted to sugar). After two hours there, I was ready to leave and take myself a nap.

Another small mistake: forgetting sunscreen. I really didn't feel it until I woke up from my nap on the couch and peeled the corduroy throw pillow from my face. Oh well, a shitload of aloe, and I should be in less pain by the morning.